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asumofwords · 7 months

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst, self worth issues, angst angst angst, fighting, yelling, tension, gods the fucking tension, smut, creampie, big feels, drinking, drug use (weed).

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Is this chapter 11.4k because I didn't want to split it up into two parts and I'm determined to keep this series at 15 chapters? Yes. Is it smart? No. Am I stubborn? Yes. Look it's a long ass chapter, but I hope that means it makes up for the late post, however I will say this, I have finished writing sublet, so the final chapter will come in a few days! And then, THEN, I shall get to your naughty little requests hehe. If you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, no you didn't. Enjoy ! <3

Chapter 14: Over the Edge

Warm rays of the suns light beat down on your body as you lay by the pool, a cool breeze rolling through the estate causing the drops of water on your skin to cool you down. There were few clouds in the sky, and the air around you was filled with the laughter and splashing of the boys in the pool.

Daeron sat astride Aegon’s shoulders as he wrestled with Lucerys; who sat atop Jacaerys’. Their fingers were interlocked as they tried to push each other off their brothers shoulders, shouts, grunts and encouragement being yelled by Baela and Rhaena who watched on beside you and Helaena in the sun.

The day had breezed by, and as a group, you had made rounds to the kitchen to fix yourselves cocktails and snacks.

Reaching beside you for the gin and juice drink you had made, you found only the remnants of melted ice at the bottom. You surveyed everyone else’s glasses, the boys beer bottles empty beside their chairs.

Standing, you asked if the girls wanted anything to drink. Rhaena looked up at you lazily, eyes squinting in the bright sunlight as Baela did the same, though the elder stood and came to your side, eyes skimming the empty glasses.

“I’ll help.” She offered.

You gave her a wide smile, “Thanks Bae.”

Helaena however, did not look up at you to answer your question, her drink beside her half drunk and half melted, most likely warmed by the sun. Slim pale fingers held her phone, speedily shooting off texts to someone, too engrossed in looking at her phone to have noticed you asked her a question.

“Hel.” You tried to garner her attention, watching as her eyebrows lightly lifted, eyes still on the screen.

“Huh?” She murmured, thumbs flying across the keyboard.

Helaena was wearing a daffodil yellow one piece that had small brown flowers printed onto it, her large floppy hat atop her head again to protect her face and shoulders from the sun, with large round glasses that had slid halfway down her nose, eyes peering over the top of them as she furiously text someone back, bottom lip pulled into her mouth by her teeth.

You clicked your fingers in her face, “Hello? I said do you want anything to drink?”

Helaena finally tore her eyes away from her phone, and you watched as she swallowed thickly when she met your eyes.

Worry struck inside of you.

Had something happened?

Rhaena and Baela sensed her change in demeanour, though neither said anything, and turned to face the boys, asking what they wanted to drink instead. Aegon, half tilted in the water as Daeron slapped away Lucerys' hand that grabbed at his shoulder, asked through gritted teeth for a Pina Colada, the weight of his brother taking a toll on him. The others settled for beer.

“I’ll have what Aegon is having.” You told the girls, watching as they went inside, casting a curious glance back at you and their cousin.

Shifting, you stepped closer to Helaena, watching as her eyes flitted to her phone as it vibrated in her palm twice before back up at you. She looked guilty, nervous, and perhaps even a bit worried.

“Hel? What's going on?” You probed, sitting down beside her on the bed, “Don’t tell me you and Sara are fighting?”

You hoped that they weren’t, and instead wished that they would get back together again. Helaena evened Sara out, and Sara did the same for Hel. They really were a good match, and you had never seen Helaena so happy until she was with her ex lover.

Violet eyes met yours, then away to the lit screen, then back up to yours.

Her avoidance was making you nervous.

Lips parted, and then came your answer.

“Aemond’s coming.” Helaena confessed sheepishly, and you felt your heart immediately begin to race.

Your mouth felt dry, and a knot began to form in your stomach.

Aemond was coming.

Here.

To the Red Keep.

“What?” Disbelief in your voice.

Helaena said he would never come here.

Your best friend looked suddenly guilty, eyes looking anywhere but you, “Yeah.” She said quietly, “He’s on a flight here.”

And then it made sense.

“You told him I was here.”

It wasn’t a question.

She locked her phone with a press of her thumb, turning it face down beside her on the tanning bed, “I did.”

The words put a sour taste in your mouth.

“What? Helaena, I can’t see him.” You shook your head, fluttering feeling in both your chest and your gut.

The Targaryen woman frowned at you sadly, watching you as you stood, wringing your fingers together.

“I think you should hear him out.” She whispered, but you were too anxious and annoyed to reason with her in that moment.

She had told him you were here.

Stepping away from her, you frowned, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

The rest of the day was filled with heightened anxiety after Helaena confessed that her brother would be arriving to the Red Keep. You had left her by the pool, feeling all eyes on you as you stormed back inside.

You knew it was likely childish, but you felt sick to your stomach knowing that he would turn up, and that you would have to pretend to everyone around that nothing had happened between the two of you. That you couldn’t even tell them what had happened. That you would have to pretend to be little more than strangers who simply shared a space, and that was it.

The only person there who knew the truth of it was Helaena.

And despite the small piece inside of you that missed him, that yearned to see him again, it was quickly squashed with the way your stomach turned in on itself, mind reeling with an array of ‘what if’s’ about what the silver haired man had gotten up to in your absence.

Had Alys come back?

Did she stay the night?

Had she been there ever since?

Did he do the things he did to you to her in your own home? On your couch?

But then a more unsettling thought popped into your mind.

Had she hurt him?

Had she made him feel weak? Like he couldn’t escape?

Had she taken away the smiles that you craved to see?

It was all too much, and you had to take deep and calming breaths to try and beat the tears that began to prickle in the corner of your eyes.

Why was this so difficult? Why were you so hurt by this? Why did you care so much?

You had made it to her bathroom, and that was where Helaena found you, hunched over the double sinked basin in her ensuite, eyes shut as you breathed deeply through your nose.

“Hey.” You heard her approach. You straightened, blinking the tears away, your reflection joined by hers blurry in front of you, “I’m sorry.” She whispered.

You shook your head, turning to face her.

Why was she sorry?

This was their home, not yours.

“You don’t need to say sorry to me.”

Her light brows furrowed as she came towards you, “He was worried about you. Didn’t know where you were.” She explained, making you feel guilty for your reaction to not only his messages, but her telling him where you were, “I only told him because he wouldn’t stop asking. He knew you weren’t at Cregan’s. I didn’t think that he would come.”

Aemond was worried about you.

But how did he know you weren’t with Cregan?

“Look,” Helaena sighed, stepping closer to you, “He wouldn’t come here if it wasn’t important.”

“Your father dying seems pretty important to me.”

You regretted the words immediately as they came out of your mouth. You didn’t say it to be mean, or to hurt her, it was just a statement of fact.

Helaena simply sighed again, “Yeah, and has he been here? No. He’s coming for you. And you’re going to hear him out.”

“Hel-“

“-No. You will. He’s coming all this way, to a place he didn’t want to come to. It’s…triggering for him. At least do him this one act of kindness and listen to what he has to say when he arrives.”

Listen to him when he arrives.

That was easier said than done.

Every fibre in your being told you to tuck tail and run.

He will probably tell you that whatever you had wasn’t real, and that he was in fact back with Alys. That he was moving back to Harrenhal with her, and that you would never see him again, bar an occasional gathering with the rest of his siblings where he would probably ask you to keep whatever little tryst you had secret from the others in order to keep the peace.

And you would agree to it, for him.

But hearing those things from him was something you didn’t want to hear. You didn’t want to feel lesser than you already did. You didn’t want to have to lay in bed each night when he leaves, picking yourself apart in comparison with her. You didn’t want to know that you would never be enough for him, and she would.

You blinked at Helaena. You didn’t want to cause her anymore grief. But by staying here, and having to talk to him, to hear his rejection face to face, you didn’t know if you could do it without breaking down.

You breathed in deeply before exhaling.

In.

Out.

“There’s nothing to say.” You shook your head, “Alys was on our couch, judging our home, Hel. Judging me. And he let her. There is nothing between us besides something physical.”

Those eyes you adored stared at you, narrowing slightly.

Time stretched uncomfortably between the two of you as she didn’t respond to your terrible lie.

She knew you were lying.

You knew you were lying.

There was no denying it, the feelings you had for him. Not to her at least. Not with her spooky intuition that she had. Nor the way you reacted when you thought of him, or how you had fled to her family home in a moment of crisis because his ex had been on your couch, hand on his thigh.

The image made your chest light with jealousy and hurt.

You walked past Helaena and into the bedroom, eager to get away from her all seeing eyes, plopping down onto her bed heavily, stomach feeling as though it was full of stones. Had the wolf in Little Red Riding Hood come into the room in the dark of night and fill you with rocks? Or was it just the more rational, and far more nerve-racking reality that you would have to come face to face with someone who you liked, more than a friend, and deal with the impending rejection and subsequent end.

That’s why he was coming.

To end whatever the two of you had.

That was it.

You picked up your phone from the side table, forgotten once again, to see another 4 messages from Aemond, asking where you were and if you were safe. The last of the messages stating that you weren’t at Cregan’s, and he that he was calling Helaena.

His sister stood in front of you again, this time, with her arms crossed.

“You’re going to hear him out.” She stated, voice stern and steady.

Here was the rarer side of Helaena, a side that Sara had taught to her. A side in which you knew meant business. You searched her face for any sort of wriggle room.

There was none.

She continued, “And if you don’t like what you hear, then you can go home.”

You breathed deeply once more, in through your nose, out through your mouth, resigned to your fate.

“Fine.”

Helaena smiled at you gratefully, “Good.” Her tone was lighter, arms uncrossing in front of her chest. You could see a wave of relief flit over her body, and you felt some sort of calm knowing that she was happy with your, though forced, answer. “I think he deserves a chance to have a voice after so long without it.”

Helaena dragged you back down to the pool, Aegon eyeing you warily before handing you your half melted Pina Colada. You took it gratefully, plonking down on the bed beside him, sipping at it deeply.

If you were going to get through his arrival, you would need something to soothe your nerves.

And some liquid courage.

If Aegon knew anything about his brothers soon to be arrival, he didn’t say anything, but you could tell by the way his lilac eyes surveyed your face and posture, that either Helaena had told him of her plans before hand, or perhaps he had been told by Aemond himself.

You didn’t want to know either way.

You were not about to draw attention to it.

You complimented the twins on their cocktail making skills, and spent the rest of the afternoon by the poolside with everyone. You had smiled and giggled and joined in on the fun, the drinks helping somewhat to calm your nerves, however as the sun began to set, and Helaena escorted you back to her room to get ready for dinner that evening, anxiety reared its ugly head inside of you once more.

Helaena gave you another dress to wear, less done up than the one before, which made you think that the job proposal was perhaps far more orchestrated than you had realised. Tonight’s dress was a warm black, with short sleeves that sat off the shoulders with a Bateau neck. It was floor length, light rippling layers of differing lengths towards the bottom that were sheer and moved like waves.

Why these families always had to dress up for dinner in their own homes, you had no idea, but it felt as though there was some sort of silent ‘holier than thou’ competition between them all.

You had pulled your hair away from your face, and eventually made your way down to have dinner with the family again. You moved to go outside to the dining table in the back, but Helaena steered you differently, taking you to a small (if you could call it that despite it being larger than your flat), ‘intimate’, Helaena’s words, not yours, dining room.

Rhaenyra and Daemon sat beside an empty, larger, much older chair. One you assumed would have been Viserys’ usual spot it he was well enough to join. Jacaerys and Baela sat up the end with Rhaena and Baela, and Daeron was looking at his on the other end phone in his lap.

Aegon and Alicent were nowhere to be seen.

Aemond, also absent.

You sat beside Jacaerys, Helaena beside you, and greeted all with a small smile. It felt easy, being in their presence, and with the majority of the Hightower kin being missing, the tension in the room was almost nonexistent.

“Have you thought more on our offer?” Rhaenyra asked sweetly, sipping at her wine as Daemon held her hand on the table.

You tucked yourself into the dining table, “I have, I-“

Footsteps and a hissing whisper came from behind, and all seated at the table turned to watch as Alicent guided her sons into the room.

Both of her eldest sons.

His eye immediately found yours, and your heart skipped a beat in your chest, breath stilling in your throat. He was dressed in all black as usual, but more formal, likely for his mother and for the meal with family. He wore black slacks with a black dress shirt, three buttons undone at the top so that you could see the sliver of the silver chain he always wore. Aemond’s hair was up in a low bun at the back of his head, small wisps falling around his face with some tucked behind his ears.

His violet gaze pierced yours, and you turned away sharply, shifting your attention to the centre of the table, looking at the flickering of one of the many candles in the room.

Oh yes, very interesting.

What a lovely candle.

Definitely attention grabbing.

Aemond seated himself at one end of the table, Lucerys shifting at the other end as he too avoided his uncles gaze. Daeron seat was a seat away from his mother, who sat in the chair at the head of the table, the one that was usually reserved for Viserys.

Aegon, beside Helaena.

And there it was. The tension again.

But it was riper than usual.

Thicker.

And you couldn’t help but notice that perhaps it had something to with the fact that there was a certain member who had returned, that all others had not expected to see.

The heat of his gaze warmed the side of your face, and you couldn’t help but feel anxiety pull sharply at your gut.

Do you say hello?

Do you ignore him?

What do you do?

If you didn’t do something, they would know something had happened. All knew you were living together, the least you could so was give him a smile.

So biting your cheek, you turned to land your gaze upon the man you had fled from, watching as his chest rose sharply when you locked eyes.

“Aemond.” You greeted him, though your voice sounded slightly strained, and the smile that pulled at your lips looked more like a grimace.

His eye softened at the sound of your voice, his head tipping towards you in acknowledgment.

A pressure moved to your thigh, and you pulled your eyes away from the man at the end of the table to the woman beside you. Helaena had her hand gripping your thigh, a soft reassurance and act of comfort.

“Rhaenyra.” Alicent greeted her step daughter, tone warmer than the last time.

Rhaenyra turned the top half of her body towards the woman. Open, responsive, listening.

“Ali.” Her violet gaze moved further along the table, settling on her half-brother, “Aemond, I didn’t know you would be coming. How is Harrenhal?”

You sucked air sharply through your mouth, feeling uncomfortable for both Aemond and yourself.

You looked back at the candle, watching the flame flicker.

Do not look at him.

Do not-

“I left.”

Blunt.

Emotionless.

Straight to the point with no room for her to continue the conversation.

All at the table felt the air crackle as an uncomfortable energy shifted around the room.

“Your talents were wasted there.” Rhaenyra spoke again, voice calm and un-probing in the way they were delivered, “Will you be resuming your studies?”

The orange flame flickered gently, and there was a pregnant pause that filled the dining room before Aemond answered.

“Yes.”

Although he was speaking with Rhaenyra, you knew just by the goosebumps that erupted on your skin that he had not once taken his eye off you. If Rhaenyra was annoyed by her brothers lack of response, she didn’t show it, and instead took it in stride, giving him a soft smile before turning her attention to the auburn haired woman beside her.

The dinner felt as though it went for hours, when in reality, shortly after Alicent and her sons were seated, food began to be placed upon the table. Entrees, sides, mains, and then finally dessert, and yet not once, did he take his full attention from you. And not only that, the tension between him and his nephews made for a more uncomfortable dinner than it already was.

You could now see why Helaena avoided visiting her family.

Lucerys would occasionally sneak glances at his uncle, but Aemond would only meet his gaze for a moment before returning it back to you. But his watching didn't go unnoticed.

More than once, Daemon and Rhaenyra would give you and then Aemond shared looks, and Daemon on one occasion, flat out laughed, clearly enjoying the train wreck of tension that was the evening.

When dessert was placed in front of you, a fluffy pavlova with passion fruit and differing berries, you found you didn’t have the appetite for it. You dabbed your lips gently with your napkin before pushing your chair backwards to stand, all eyes lifted to you.

“Thank you for dinner, it was beautiful.” You smiled at Alicent, her bright eyes creasing in the corners as she gave you one back, “Please excuse me, I'd like to go to bed. I’m quite tired.”

You knew he was watching you. You could feel it. You could feel the heat of his eye on your face, on your neck and shoulders, on the way your hands wiped nervously against the sides of your dress.

Alicent nodded her head at you, “Of course.” And being the well mannered host that she was, bid you a good night and went back to entertaining her “guests”, immediately turning her face towards Rhaenyra who gave you a sweet grin.

A pressure at your hand caused you to cast your eyes downward, meeting Helaena’s concerned gaze. You gave her a reassuring squeeze and a subtle shake of your head.

No.

I am fine.

I am totally okay.

Not at all struggling to breathe with my heart in my throat because your brother, who I’ve been fucking by the way in case you forgot, had his abusive ex over at our place which resulted in a fight and me coming here, has been staring at me this entire dinner and I don’t know what to do.

Without another word, you turned and walked away, briskly leaving the intimate dining room to go to Helaena’s bedroom, feeling that same heat on the back of your head as you left. Your footsteps echoed on the stone floors as you tried to take deep and steadying breaths, stomach tying itself in knots.

You felt on the verge of tears.

You were halfway up the stairs when you heard footsteps coming swiftly towards you.

“Wait.” Came the smooth and deep timbre of the man you were so desperately trying to avoid.

Your mouth opened, and you increased your pace up the stairs, almost lurching yourself up them two at a time. Not ready to hear his rejection. Not ready to speak to him. Not ready to feel the pangs of pain in your chest again.

A deep sigh came from behind, footsteps closer now.

“Would you wait a second?” Aemond called to you again.

No.

No I will not.

I am going to take myself straight to bed so that I can cry in the shower and pretend that I’m not crying.

You finally came to the top of the stairs, taking a sharp left turn to speed walk down the hallway towards Helaena’s room.

Goddamn them and their stupid, giant estate.

“I said wait.” Aemond jogged in front of you, stopping abruptly in your path so that you would have to stop.

You almost ran straight into him.

His chest was heaving and his brow was pulled down as he looked at you. There was a blush to his cheeks and you watched as he swallowed thickly as he took you in.

Your chest fluttered.

“What?” You breathed, lump forming in the back of your throat.

All you could think of was your last interaction.

I don’t know.

“I was worried about you.” Aemond muttered, eye roaming your face.

There was that dastardly pain in your chest. You tried to swallow the lump, but it stayed thick and heavy in your throat, sadness seeping into your bones.

You shook your head, “I’m fine.”

The man frowned, “You’re clearly not. I texted you.”

Guilt.

“I know.”

The way he was standing in front of you was so unsure, so closed in, like he didn’t know what he was doing, or how to speak to you in that moment. It reminded you of how small he made himself look with Alys.

Alys.

I don’t know.

You moved to step around him, trying to get to the room which was further down the hall.

Get to the room and then you can cry.

Get to the room and then you can let it out. Don’t let him see you like this.

Don’t-

Aemond blocked your path again.

You huffed, breezing past him, your shoulder lightly brushing against his arm as you made your way forward.

Almost there.

Almost-

“Can we please talk about this?” His voice came from behind.

Keeping your eye trained on Helaena’s door you responded, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

Yep.

Keep lying to yourself girl.

Cause that will make it all better.

“Y/n, please.”

Your steps slowed, door right before you. If you leant forward enough and reach out, your fingers would graze one of the door handles and you could simply press down and slip through the door.

But even then, would it be enough to keep him out?

He had flown all the way here.

It was time to face the music.

You spun around, gnawing gently at your bottom lip as you looked at him. He looked almost relieved to see you turn to him, and his hands twitched at his sides. He stepped closer but kept his distance, watching as you shifted on your feet, counting your breaths.

Don’t cry.

“I’m sorry.”

Oh shit.

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him.

Aemond breathed deeply.

It was quiet for a moment, but you let it hold.

It was his turn to speak, and once he had told you that these things didn’t come easy to him.

So you would give him time.

You would give him five minutes to say his peace, you reasoned with yourself. Five minutes to let you down gently, to tell you that he was back with Alys, and then you could spend ten minutes wallowing in self pity and cry in the shower, and then, after all that, you would make Helaena let you go home.

She did say you had to hear him out first.

Well, now was his chance.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” He continued, eye boring into your own, “I was just as surprised as you were.”

Surprised as you were?

He let her in.

Irritation stirred in your chest.

Not just at his words, but his inaction during what had happened.

Inaction for his own autonomy and self respect.

“Surprised.” You said tonelessly.

Aemond cast his eye to his shoes, watching as they shifted on the hundred years old stone.

“I don’t expect you to understand-“ He began.

“-Then help me to.”

His sharp jaw ticked, “I wasn’t thinking straight. I just- I saw her and-“

“-Let her into my home without asking. And to top it all off,” Here came the anger and hurt, “You shrugged me off in front of her and allowed her to insult me.”

“She didn’t insult you.”

You scoffed, looking away, eyes focusing on an old portrait of some Targaryen ancestor with a silver crown atop his head, “You still defend her. Even when you’re trying to apologise to me. You said I was just ‘Helaena's roommate’, as if we hadn’t spent multiple nights together in my bed. How did you expect me to take that? It was humiliating!”

There goes your plan to let him to do the talking.

Regret flashed across his pale features, eye casting away from you, “I’m sorry.” He shook his head at himself, “You didn’t deserve that. I didn’t mean to dismiss you, or make you feel as if you didn’t mean anything to me.”

Mean something to him?

“But you did.” You stated bitterly.

Aemond took another step towards you, and you had to fight the urge to not take one back.

You pressed your tongue into your cheek as you waited for him to respond, waited for him to finally tell you that he was back with her. That whatever you had together was over. You just wished he would get on with it.

The waiting was worse than the knowing.

Tears began to prick at your eyes.

“Please just get it over and done with.” You blurted, and watched as confusion washed over his face, “Just-“ You wet your lips with your tongue, “Just tell me what you came here to do.”

Aemond shifted on his feet, brows lightly furrowed as he looked at you sadly. His mouth opened and shut twice before words came forth, “I know my actions have hurt you, but I’m lost. I know that isn’t an excuse, and I shouldn’t try and use it as one, but I don’t know what to do.”

You picked at the skin of your finger, “I don’t know what you want from me, Aemond.”

“I want you.”

You blinked.

What?

“I need you. I came here because- Because I- I needed to see you. I needed to make it right. I’m sorry.” His face grew sullen, and you wished that he wouldn’t look at you that way. It made you want to step forward and pull him into your arms, “I shouldn’t have let her talk to you like that. I shouldn’t have let you leave like that. I should have done many things, but I didn’t. I’m lost. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He breathed, eye roaming your face. Aemond took another step forward, face suddenly becoming harder with conviction, “But I know that I want you.”

I don’t know, replayed in your mind over and over again.

“I just don’t know what to do.” He breathed, and your heart sank.

He didn’t know what to do.

And that meant, you would be strung along for the ride until he made his decision.

A traitorous tear escaped the corner of your eye, sliding wetly down your cheek. Aemond’s lip twitched as he saw it, and his hand moved towards you. You stepped back, hand pressed against the handle of the door.

“That’s not good enough for me, Aemond.” You choked, pressing the handle of the door down to open it, stepping inside without another glance back.

Tears fell down your cheeks as you shut the door behind you, back leant again the wood as you stifled a sob with the back of your hand.

He wanted you.

But he didn’t know how.

He didn’t know what to do.

He was lost.

But only he could make those decisions.

You couldn’t do that for him.

He had to do it himself.

And it hurt.

It hurt so much, that your shower was a blur of tears, and you hadn’t even noticed when Helaena snuck into bed beside you after, brushing your hair away from your face as she cooed sadly at you. You let your best friend hold you as you sniffled against her, turning Aemond’s words in your head over and over again.

You wanted him.

He wanted you.

But neither of you knew what to do.

The next morning you woke with swollen eyes and anxiety in your gut. Another day, and you would once again have to face him. There was no escaping the man who came here to talk to you, and although you had heard him out last night, you knew that it wouldn’t be the last time he would try.

Helaena, being the sweet and wonderful friend that she was, trying to cheer you up, ran down to the kitchen and brought up a cool gel eye mask for you to put on. She made you sit up and put it on you with a small giggle, the frosty gel making your eyes tear involuntarily.

You sat there for a moment with the makeshift gel goggles on, watching as Helaena’s violet eyes probed yours. She knew Aemond had spoken to you. You were sure everyone knew something was going on, what with him running out after you once you left dinner and his constant vigilant gaze upon you.

You knew what she was going to ask, and yet you couldn’t help but sigh, “Ask whatever it is you’re busting to ask, Hel.”

The silver haired woman flopped down into bed, wavy hair fanned out on the pillow as she looked up at you, “Did you hear him out?”

“I did.”

She frowned at the lack of elaboration, “What did he say?”

You inhaled deeply through your nose as you scratched at the back of your head, lightly tugging your hair, “Apologised.” Helaena’s eyes lit up, “Said he wants me, but doesn’t know what to do.” You flopped down beside her, eyes staring up at the ceiling.

You were sure you looked as ridiculous as you felt.

“And what did you say?”

“That it wasn’t good enough for me.”

Helaena didn’t hum, or speak up again, and you could feel her encouraging gaze upon you, knowing she wanted you to elaborate, and so you did.

“I can’t just go into something with him if he doesn’t even know what he wants. You should have been there, Hel. He called me your roommate and nothing else to her, and now he turns up and decides he wants me but doesn’t know how?” You felt your gut twist in feeling inadequate, never enough, “I’m not going to be his rebound for him to figure out what he wants. If he wants me, he needs to do better than that. He needs to show me that he does. No more secrets, no more whispers in the dark of a room. He’s either all in, or I’m out.”

It felt good to get that off your chest, to let it out, to breathe the words that settled inside of you like a stone. If he wanted you, truly wanted you, he needed to show it. He needed to build that bridge. He needed to take the first steps, because you couldn’t hold his hand and guide him through that.

But in some ways, him coming all the way to the Keep to see you was a first step, but even then, you needed more.

“I need assurance that he isn’t just going to run off to her and leave me in the dirt. I need assurance that this isn’t just some game to him. I’m happy being single, don’t get me wrong, Hel. Cregan is really all I need to get shit out of my system, but there’s something more with Aemond. Something more than just sex.”

You cringed, turning to face her, expecting to see a grimace as you spoke about having sex with her brother. But there was no cringe in her features, only a look of understanding an empathy.

“Sorry, Hel. I know he’s your brother, and this is already weird.”

“My family is weirder.”

You chuckled softly, “I think I just need to go home. I want to go home and just pretend none of this happened.”

Helaena hummed, “You and me both.” Then as if realising her words, “I didn’t mean about you and Aem, I just mean in general. Mum is driving me up the wall.”

“Come back with me.”

“I can’t. I have to be here for them.” She rolled out of bed, moving to her wardrobe as she fished out some clothes for the day, “Only consolation is mum is gone, won’t be back until tomorrow, but that means Cole is with her. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow when they get back.”

You sat up, pulling the eye mask from your face, feeling far more refreshed than you wold have liked to admit. The puffiness from your eyes was gone, and you felt fresher, more alert and awake. Or perhaps that was from your conversation.

“That’s fine. This place is huge, I’m sure I won’t see him at all.”

Your previous statement proved to be false. Despite the sheer size of the Red Keep estate, Aemond seemed to pop up no matter where you were.

At the pool.

In the Library.

The Billiard Room were you played a game of pool with the boys.

No matter where you were, he always seemed to find you, eye searching you out immediately as he would slowly, and awkwardly, make his way toward you. You had dodged him thus far, leaving with an excuse to go to the bathroom, all but racing up to Helaena’s room, or saying that you were hungry, running to the large kitchen to sip at a glass of water.

It got to the point where it was simply ridiculous, and even the others seemed to notice his sudden appearance, and then your very sudden absence thereafter. It was like a game of tag, he would arrive and you would leave just before he could reach you, keeping that sweet distance safely between the two of you. Because if he were to say anything like he had the night before, you didn’t know if you would be able to keep yourself cool, calm and collected.

It was late in the afternoon, the sun beginning to roll down from the sky, where you found yourself in the gazebo at the end of the garden. It was large and open, chairs, lounges and tables all within, and Aegon had brought another bag of joints down with him.

You suspected that he most likely had a plant growing somewhere on the property. And the twins, with the help of their step-brothers, brought down a large esky.

With the presence of the two brunette haired boys, you likened that Aemond wouldn’t venture down to the Gazebo with the rest of you, thus your false sense of protection from he man.

Tomorrow you would leave, and then you would be safe to wallow in self pity as much as your heart desired.

There was a cool breeze that rolled through, but you were all relaxed for the most part, enjoying each others company with the music that played steadily out of Daeron’s portable speaker, drinking and smoking, and enjoying the warmth of the sun.

You had been rolling a cigarette, offering one to Aegon as he eyed your pouch greedily when Lucerys shifted in front of you, large brown eyes looking past your head. The younger man’s face changed, brows pulling and posture straightening. He was nervous. Dread settled in your gut. The only time that you had seen Luc react like this was when his uncle was around.

You turned in your seat, filter for your cigarette hanging from your lips, to see Aemond slowly making his way across the grass towards you.

“Aemond!” Aegon called out, lifting his half drunk beer, joint pinched between two fingers that held the bottle towards his younger brother, who made his way up the steps to the rest of you.

Your mouth felt dry, and you looked away just as his eye found you, scurrying to roll your cigarette and Aegon’s, using it as an excuse to look down into your lap and not up at the man who sat himself beside Aegon on the opposite side of you.

Movement caught your eye, and you lifted your gaze through your lashes, watching as Aemond plucked the joint from his brothers fingers, bringing it towards his plump lips, inhaling a long draw of the blunt. The ember lit and moved down the paper as he drew in, and you were annoyingly impressed that he had the lungs to hold it.

You looked back down at the tobacco in your lap, slowly filling the centre of the paper as you rolled it together between your pointers and thumbs, making a long, and neat cigarette.

You didn’t want to look up, but as soon as your tongue darted out to lick the paper to get it to stick, you could feel heat rising into your face as Aemond, unashamedly, watched. You reached out blindly, handing the cigarette to Aegon who thank you with a chirpy ‘Ta’, diverting your eyes back down to your lap to repeat the process.

Jacaerys, picking up on the tension, opted to speak to you, and only you, trying to keep your attention on him as he passed you over another can of some sweet drink Baela had brought with her. The whole time, you felt Aemond watching you.

Irritation boiled inside of you as you licked the cigarette closed, bringing it to hold between your lips as your hands patted down your lap and then sides for the lighter.

“Here.” Aegon caught your attention, leaning forward with his white lighter for you. You leant in, eyes on the flame as you inhaled to light the end of the smoke.

“Thanks.” You mumbled back, exhaling deeply, watching the smoke, trying to focus on the lyrics of the song instead of focusing on the way your skin prickled as you were being observed.

“In my imagination, you’re waiting lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs.”

You turned to Daeron, “Really, Daer? Arctic Monkeys?”

The youngest son of Alicent turned to you and snorted, “It’s not my phone that’s connected.”

“What's wrong with the Arctic Monkeys?” Aegon huffed, joint back in his hands as he watched you with glassy, half-lidded eyes.

“Didn’t take you for a Tumblr girl, Eggy.” You teased, inhaling your smoke, ignoring the way his brother beside him stared at you pointedly.

“It’s what gets the girls hot and heavy, babe.” Aegon winked, and you could have sworn you saw Aemond’s body shift beside him.

Helaena gagged, “Such a slut, Egg.”

“Hey! No slut shaming in my house.”

Baela, being quick witted, jumped in, “But I thought you liked a little bit of shame?”

If you had thought Aegon’s flirty glances towards you were intense, the one he cheekily threw at Baela stilled your breath, “I love it all, Bae. Why are you interested?”

“You’re foul.”

“You love it.”

The tension somewhat diffused after that, but Aemond didn't join in on anyone else’s conversations, merely listened, and kept his eye on you. It was driving you, as Helaena would say, up the wall. You didn’t know if you wanted to kiss him or scream at him.

Maybe a bit of both to be honest.

You had gotten down to your third or fourth drink, sun right behind the horizon, a deep orange glow spreading across the estate, when Aemond finally came to do what he had clearly intended to all day.

He stood, and you stiffened, seeing in your periphery as he came to sit beside you on the other side, Helaena having gotten up to get another drink out of the esky, lost in giggles with Luc and Rhaena.

“Can we talk?” Aemond sat beside you, voice soft and quiet.

You hated that he was trying. You hated that he was trying because it meant that there was a chance that you could get hurt again. You just wished, in some sick part of you, that he would be horrible to you so you could just move on.

The cigarette moved in your lips as you murmured to him, the same words you had repeated over, and over despite their lack of integrity, keeping your eyes ahead, “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Y/n, please. Don’t shut me out.”

Jace, being the ever perceptive man that he was, had noticed throughout the day your tension, and finally snapped, “Dude, back off. She clearly doesn’t want to talk to you.”

Aemond’s gaze snapped to his nephew across the gazebo, and all around you, the giggles of Rhaena and Helaena halted, and that inexplicable tension exploded into the space. It was like everyone held their breath, watching as Aemond’s lips pulled down into a sneer, “Mind your business, Jacaerys.”

The brunette sneered back, “No.” Hand extended towards you, “Look at her. She’s uncomfortable as hell-”

“-Jace, I-“ You tried to defuse the ticking time bomb that was building between uncle and nephew, but Jacaerys wasn’t having it.

“-Don’t pretend you’re not. You’ve been avoiding him all day.”

You swallow.

“This doesn’t concern you.” Aemond snapped, and even though he was irritated, you could tell he was trying his best to keep his body language calm and cold beside you.

To show you he wasn’t a threat.

Jacaerys shook his head, fingers strumming against the neck of his beer. Helaena’s eyes darted back and forth between brother and nephew, uncertain of what to do, mind running a million miles an hour as she evaluated the situation.

“It does if you’re making my friend uncomfortable.” The brunette scoffed, “I don’t know what you did to warrant her not wanting to speak to you, but you should take the hint.”

Oh fuck.

Fuck.

A sharp breath was blown through Aemond’s nose, “And you should take the ‘hint’ that this doesn’t concern you.”

Jacaerys shifted his eyes to you, warmth and concern bleeding into his features. In any other circumstance, you would have appreciated his defence of you, and even come to his side, but right now, you didn’t know what to do.

“Y/n, do you want to talk to him?”

Did you?

Yes.

No.

Yes.

Oh Gods.

You stayed quiet, not sure what you wanted. Talking would mean you would be let down again. Talking would mean you would have to have the same roundabout argument, your silly heart too stubborn and too sensitive to be hurt again.

Everyone watched as they waited for your answer, but Jacaerys, taking your momentary bout of silence, chimed in once again.

“See? she doesn’t-“

Aemond stood from his seat beside you, irritation rolling off of him in waves, “-Fuck off, Jacaerys. Learn whats good for you and mind your own.”

Jace shot up from his spot across the Gazebo, poor little Lucerys beside him standing with wide eyes, unsure of what to do.

“Say that again.”

“I said, fuck off.” Aemond hissed.

“Woah. Okay! Maybe we should just-“ Aegon starts, but was quickly interrupted by Jacaerys.

“-Get your brother in line.” He barked at Aegon, whose glassy eyes widened, and pale brows rose up his forehead, “He’s been harassing her ever since he arrived.”

“Harassing?” Aemond fumed.

Oh for fucks sake.

This was exactly what you didn’t want to happen.

The son of Rhaenyra Targaryen narrowed his eyes on his uncle, and stepped towards him, “She doesn’t want to talk to you. Whatever you have to say to her, she clearly doesn’t want to hear it. Leave her alone.”

Aemond shifted, but didn’t step towards his younger nephew, staying firmly by your seated side, “What would you know about what I want to say to her? She can speak for herself.”

Oh, Aemond.

The brunette let out a humourless laugh, “Well she hasn’t spoken once yet.”

“Because you haven’t given me the chance!” You exploded, feeling all too overwhelmed with it all.

You didn’t want them to fight because of you.

You knew that this would happen. That their previous familial tension would be the underlying root of whatever this was.

But you didn’t want this.

You didn’t want everyone against Aemond.

Your brown haired friend, someone you adored immensely looked at you with impatience, “Do you want to speak with him?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

“See? She doesn't even know. It's no secret you hate her-“

“-I love her!”

The air in the gazebo stilled.

The sound of blood rushing into your ears was loud, and you felt your heart beating against your ribs, desperate to escape as you felt it lurch into your throat. Your mouth opened, and a sharp inhale moved through you. You couldn’t think.

All eyes were on you again, and the silence was back, the previous song slowly rolling out, to give way to the next.

Helaena watched knowingly, as did Aegon, who relaxed beside you.

And what was more surprising, was that you could see the tension in Jacaerys’ shoulders slowly bleed from him, a blush blooming on his high cheeks.

Oh shit.

“I mean- I-“ Aemond breathed, gathering what was left of his composure, voice coming out less irritated than before, “Please, I just- I need to talk to her.”

Your mouth felt dry, and your palms sweaty. You couldn’t even look up at the man who stood beside you.

What the-

Helaena moved quickly towards her nephew, linking her arm in his as she began to lead him out of the gazebo, “Let's let these two talk, hm?”

Aegon stood and clapped his hands, “Let's go play some pool and let these two love birds sort out their little lovers spat.”

Your eyes widened at him.

Love birds?

Lovers spat?

You-

Wh-

You were completely, and utterly gobsmacked.

Love?

Loves you?

Slowly but surely, all left you and Aemond at the gazebo, and you desperately swallowed dryly, wishing you could run again. Jacaerys’ eyes gave you one last lingering gaze to see if you needed help, and it reminded you of the way you had been with Aemond not too long ago.

Pain strummed in your chest.

Then finally, you were alone.

Aemond jerked away from you pacing, brushing a nervous hand through his hair as you stay seated.

You didn’t even know if you could move.

Didn’t know if you could stand.

Didn’t even know if you could lift yourself even if you wanted. You had grown to the chair, and at the mercy of the silver haired man who walked briskly in front of you.

“Are you going to let me speak to you?”

“You’re already speaking.” You quipped back, nerves taking a hold of you just the same as it did to him.

Aemond’s gaze flicked to you, then back down to his hands which he clenched and unclenched, wiping them against his black slacks, clearly irritated and unsure.

“You’ve been avoiding me all day.” He stated.

You don't respond.

“Why?”

“Why?” You scoffed, “What do you mean 'why?'”

“Why won’t you talk to me?”

Gods, why was this the only fucking question he had?

Didn’t he have the wherewithal to figure the rest out?

It was as if his irritation bounced onto you, heat rising into your cheeks.

You snapped, “Because there is nothing to talk about!”

His violet eye narrowed on you as he turned to face you completely, hands at his sides, “Yes, there is.”

You shook your head, feeling that irritating little pull in your chest, and the even more irritating prickle in the back of your eyes, “No, there’s not. You made that abundantly clear. You don’t know what you want, Aemond.” You sighed sadly, looking away from him momentarily, anything to escape his piercing gaze, “You don’t even know if you really want me. This isn’t healthy. I’m not going to be your stepping stone from Alys.”

The man’s brows pulled down into a frown, “You’re not a stepping stone.”

“That's how I feel!” You felt like you were going to burst into tears, you didn’t want to show him this, you didn’t want him to feel your insecurities, but the words just kept coming, “I don’t feel wanted. I feel like an option. I don’t want to be an option to you.”

Aemond took a step towards you, hand out in front of him, palm up, “How can I make you feel that when you won’t talk to me? When you won’t let me show you. You’re not an option for me. It’s only you. If you would just let me speak to you-”

You stood up, moving away from him as you felt tears gather in your eyes, “You haven’t shown me that I can trust you. How do I know you won’t hurt me again? That she won’t just show up here? This isn’t the first time you’ve done this. Remember the first time we got involved? I can’t keep doing this and getting myself hurt, Aemond. I won’t.” You cast your eyes out to the horizon, the blanket of night falling across the realm, stars above beginning to twinkle in the darkness.

You heard Aemond come up from behind, “I’m done with her. For good. As it should have been. I haven’t seen her since that night.”

That night when he dismissed you.

That night when you ran here.

It sounded as though he was speaking about something that had happened, months, years ago, but in reality, was not that long ago. Mere days.

“And did she come back?” Your voice was small, and you felt embarrassment for impulsively asking one of your burning questions, something that had been eating away at you almost every night since you left.

“What?” There was disbelief in his tone, “No. I didn’t want her to come back. And then when I saw you were gone, I thought you went to Cregan’s or Sara’s. But then, you didn’t come back. And you wouldn’t respond.”

“Why was she there for so long?” You turned to face him, watching as his eye softened, before looking down sadly. You knew she was a hard topic, but so was this.

“Because we talked about everything. The abuse. The…grooming. All of it. I wanted her to know I didn’t want that anymore. I needed to prove to myself I didn’t. She just wouldn't stop.”

“Then why did you say you didn’t know? Why did you say that to me, Aemond? But suddenly now you know? Can you you see why I’m so lost?”

Aemond lip was pulled into his mouth as he bit at it nervously, “Because I didn’t. It was an intense conversation to have right after her, Y/n. And you deserved my full capacity, deserve my full capacity, which I didn’t have in that moment. I needed to grieve, and I felt like I was being pushed into talking.” His voice became, softer, and you watched as his hands flexed beside him, itching to do something with them as a distraction, “I didn’t know what way was up, or what to think. It felt like my mind was put into a blender. I felt everything and nothing all at once.”

Gods damn him.

Why was this so hard.

An ache spread in your chest for him, for everything that he had been through.

“I wasn’t pushing you," You shook your head softly, "I would never do that to you.” You sympathised, feeling slightly guilty, “I just wanted to know where we stood.”

“Stood?”

Of course he would pick up on that.

Past tense.

You sighed, threading a hand through your hair, “I’m not going to be your experiment, Aemond.” The man’s head reared back in disbelief at your words, “I’m not going to be your fixer upper. Or your new start. I’m not putting my all into something when the other person doesn’t even know what they want from me.”

“I do know.” Aemond corrected you, head cocked to the side, eye imploring you to understand.

In any other circumstance you would be a puddle on the floor.

“But you said-”

“-I know what I said.” He interrupted you, “And I thought on it. I know what I want. I want you. But I just don’t know how.”

“This is the issue!” You threw your hands up in frustration.

Gods strike me down.

It was the same thing, over and over. He wants you but doesn’t know how.

As a friend?

As a roommate?

As a lover?

What did he want from you?

Not even he fucking knew.

You stormed away, a lone tear falling down your cheek as you brushed it away angrily, jogging down the steps of the gazebo as you made your way back inside of the Keep. You passed Helaena and Jacaerys who stood in the kitchen, eyes wide as they watched you speed right past them, Aemond trailing behind you, hot on your tail.

Jacaerys moved to come towards you, to ask if you were okay, but you snapped at him, hand up, “Don’t.”

You kept on, desperate to get to some privacy where you could actually let it all out. Cry and scream, and kick and shout, and then fix your makeup and head back downstairs, and if Aemond came again, you would let Jacaerys give it to him out of spite.

Aemond jogged after you, coming around the corner of the entrance that had a large staircase that wound up to the higher levels. “Let me finish.” He puffed, “I don’t know how to assure you that I want you, or how to promise you that I won’t hurt you.”

You spun back and sneered at him, “And that's not good enough for me, Aemond.”

You watched as he flinched back slightly, and your face softened.

Fuck.

Goddamn it.

You hoped the regretful look on your face soothed his anxiety momentarily before you kept on, pace getting faster once more.

“What if I got on my knees and begged.”

You blinked.

The memory of the joke that had been uttered in your apartment floated to the front of your mind. The sides of your lips twitched, but that short lived happiness and fondness was squashed at the reminder of why you were having this conversation in the first place.

You turned, finding Aemond dangerously close at the top of the stairs, his eye narrowed on you as both of your chests heaved, “No. I’m tired of being used by you.”

“I’m not using you.” He took a step froward.

You took a step back.

“Oh no? So I’m suddenly not ‘Helaena’s roommate’.”

You knew you were being childish, but you couldn’t stop it.

“I said I’m sorry.” His voice sounded strained, almost coming out as a growl.

You shook your head at him, “Just stay away from me.” You turned away heading down the hall to her room, “You can get your things from th-“

A large palm wrapped around your elbow and spun you.

Soft lips crashed into yours and you gasped, hands flying to his shoulders as he pushed you backwards into a wall, all teeth and tongue. A warmth spread through you, and as your mind caught up with you finally, you kissed him back, biting at his lip roughly in anger.

Your hands wove into his hair and pulled at it meanly, hearing a grunt fall into your lips as he pressed into your body with all his weight, smothering you, covering you, claiming you.

Aemond’s hands held the side of your neck before skating down your body, grabbing at your waist and hips, before sliding behind to pinch at your bum.

A moan flittered from your chest as heat settled in your gut, a wetness beginning to seep into your underwear.

With stumbling steps, Aemond guided you backwards, the two of you clawing and nipping at each other breathlessly, pent up anger and frustration pouring into your bones.

The wall behind you fell through, having been a door Aemond opened, and you parted momentarily as you stepped backwards, his large boot kicking the door shut as he grasped your cheeks, pulling you back to him. He continued to walk you backwards, your feet stumbling on the edge of a rug.

The world spun as Aemond shoved you backwards, eyes popping open as you landed onto his bed with a squeak. Your eyes took him in, and then the room. It was similar to Helaena’s, but only dark greens and black.

A room which looked like hadn’t had someone in it for a very long time.

Aemond had taken you to his old room.

He stood in front of you, chest heaving, eye narrowed on your form as his hands moved to his belt, roughly unclasping it, sliding the long length through his belt loops with a snap. Your legs clenched together as you watched him unbutton his shirt, his pupil having swallowed his iris whole, leaving an inky black look of desire as he devoured you with his eye.

Once his shirt was off, he kicked of his shoes and socks, and then he was on you again, lips and body pressing you down into the soft duvet that covered his sheets, a long groan peeling from his chest as he gripped your hair tightly, grinding his hardened length against your covered core.

You whined, hands flying down to the button and zipper of his pants as he ripped at your clothes, tearing them off of you until you were laid bare beneath him.

He looked down at you hungrily, tongue peeking out of his lips to wet them as he murmured at you, “So beautiful.”

Your hands found his zip and yanked it down, fingers diving under the elastic of his pants to grasp at his girth. You gave him a rough squeeze, arching up to nip at his bottom lip. A hiss came from between his clenched teeth before he gently batted your hand away, sliding off of the bed as he tugged you roughly towards him with a squeak.

He parted your legs hastily, eye immediately locked on your slick folds. You tried to close your legs, feeling heat bloom in your chest, but his hands prevented you, that and his hardened stare as he leant down and licked a broad swipe up through your folds.

Your back arched off of the bed as you whined, pleasure sparking through you. Your hands flew down and grasped his hair, tugging him towards your centre as he began to lick and suckle at your clit. He hummed into it, placing nips into your inner thighs and kisses against the sensitive nub.

It was too much.

All that pent up emotion.

The waiting.

The wanting.

The hurting.

The yearning.

And now he was back between your thighs, rubbing a long digit through your folds until he pushed it inside of your entrance, curling it upwards to rub against the spongey patch within. You jerked as warmth shot up through you, your core clenching around his digit, before he added another.

“So fucking tight and wet.” He moaned, head dipping back down to suckle at your clit whilst he fucked you on his fingers, “Such a perfect pussy.”

The room was filled with the slick sound of your heat and your moans as you writhed atop his bed, the coil within you winding increasingly tighter with each flick of his tongue and curl of his fingers.

It was raw. It was primal. And it was a flurry of desperation.

He came away from your core, crawling up your body as he kicked off his pants and briefs, “Want to feel you cum around me.” He breathed against your lips, settling himself between your thighs as you lifted your hip up to meet his tip, which he fisted in one hand.

He didn’t spare a second to check in, to see if you were ready, before slamming himself inside, his pace immediately fast and hard as he rutted against you desperately. You cried out, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as each snap of his hips drove you up the bed, your walls clamping down on him.

“Fuck.” He hissed, feeling the way you tightened around him as he changed the angle to drive his hips deeper, lifting one of your thighs to wrap around his hip, fingers digging into your flesh in a way you knew there would be bruises come morning.

“Please.” You whined beneath him, chest arching up to brush against him, nipples pebbled in arousal.

“Please, what?” He smirked, purposely slowing his thrusts.

You tilted your hips upwards to try and increase the pace before you huffed, “Please, need to cum.”

Aemond dipped his head, kissing your cheek softly, the first sign of affection, “You’ll cum, baby, be patient for daddy.”

He fucked into you harder, his forehead pressed against yours as he looked down to where you were connected, watching as his length disappeared into your slick folds over and over, your arousal coating his shaft and your thighs in a way that glimmered in the low light of the room.

You chased his lips, bringing him back into a passionate kiss, feeling his tongue slide over yours, chasing you desperately as you deepened for him, feeling your chest flutter, and your cunt pulse.

His hand found its way to the side of your cheek as he fucked you, breaking the embrace to look down at you.

There was a light sheen of sweat on his forehead, silver stands sticking to the side of his face as the rest dangled over his shoulders messily. His eye bore into your own, and you watched as his pupil dilated further, a blush creeping on his cheeks as his thrusts faltered.

“I want you.” He whispered, “Only you.”

You whined, shutting your eyes as you turned your face into his palm feeling overwhelmed by his gaze, his words, and the way his cock drilled so perfectly into your cunt.

“‘M close.” You panted, fingernails digging into the skin of his shoulders as you pulled him down closer to you, wanting him to be closer, needing him to be pressed against you entirely.

His scent surrounded you, and you felt safer, calmer, and ready to burst.

You were so close.

So close.

“’S perfect, baby. Cum for me.” He groaned, his pace beginning to falter, hand still against your cheek and neck, holding you in place as he watched you come undone beneath him.

You came with a cry, eyes scrunched shut as he grunted, warmth immediately flooding you as he came with you. Pleasure erupted through your body, your walls fluttering around his length as he fucked himself through the both of your highs, prolonging it.

His weight pressed down onto you from above as you both breathed heavily, his hips finally stilling as you felt his length throbbing inside of you. Aemond's thumb brushed against your cheek, gently, back and forth, back and forth, soothing you as you refused to look back at him, keeping your eyes shut.

You didn’t dare open your eyes, you didn’t even know if you could, but if you did, you would have been met with the loving and gentle gaze of Aemond, a warm glow on his cheeks.

Pulling back, Aemond slid himself from your warmth and you both hissed quietly in the sudden stillness of the room. But you were too tired to talk, too tired to argue, too tired to even think about what this meant.

He wrapped you up in his arms, pulling the sheets over the both of you as he tucked your head beneath his chin.

You curled up against him, enjoying the familiarity of his warmth and the safety that he gave you.

Fingertips brushed up and down your arm, raising goosebumps in their wake, until slowly but surely, the moment slowed, and his breathing evened out. Your eyes adjusted to the low lit room, as you took it all in, breathing in time with the man beside you.

Your throat felt tight.

The lump you wished you could remove with your own hands, growing in the back of your throat.

Your chest grew tight, and there it was once again, the prickling in your eyes as tears threatened to rise.

As carefully as you could, you slid out of the bed, halting each time his breath would change, or he would move, careful to not wake him. When you stood beside the bed, you looked down at him as you put your clothes back on.

He looked at peace.

Calm.

And so, gods be damned, beautiful.

Silver hair that had a slight wave to it now was nestled around his head on the pillow, small strands falling down his face over his seeing eye. Those plump lips you loved to kiss were slightly parted as he slept, breathing in through them and the sharp nose above.

Your heart ached as you watched him.

You didn’t know what to do.

You both clearly wanted each other, but you were scared of getting hurt.

Aemond said he had made up his mind, but had you?

You snuck out of his room and into Helaena’s, crawling into bed beside her. She blinked at you sleepily before rolling over to go back to her dreams.

You found you could barely sleep, mind occupied with only one thing;

Him.

Thanks so much for reading along with me, if you wish to be added to the tag list please let me know :) Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated ! Enjoy <3

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pleasingforharry · 7 months

Note

Hi!! Is there any chance I can request a oneshot with actor y/n x harry, where Harry is y/n's plus one to her new movie premiere which she stars in as a romantic lead with another famous actor but he gets jealous and overprotective as he has to sit there and watch the steamy and sex scenes with his girlfriend and her costar he has a keen dislike for, and has to try not explode watching that, then going to the after party watching the actor trying to flirt and share small touches (holding her waist to walk past etc) then when harry and y/n get back to their hotel room he shows her just how much he wants and loves her, to the point he wants that actor to hear her scream harrys name a few doors down

this is so jahshdkrkbwaksocjwnw

you know my other bae andrew garfield had to make an appearance ;)

actress!yn

WORD COUNT: 17.9k words... whoa sorry.

WARNINGS: Uh... SMUT. and yeah smut :)

You and your boyfriend, Harry, are in your hotel room, changing quickly for the premiere of your new movie, Hot Shot. It's been a long few months filming this, especially because you just finished advertising The Good and Bad Days, which you starred in with your boyfriend.

“Harry, can you zip me up, please?" You ask him as you stand at the wide, full-length mirror. Your body is showered, shaved, and glowing—soon to be sucked into your tight dress. You and your stylist wanted to make a statement with your two outfits; for the premiere and for the afterparty. Hours were spent trying dresses on, gagging at some, staring blankly at some, struggling with some, falling in love with some, debating with some.

But you finally have the two that will make you feel beautiful, sexy, and confident on your day. You're feeling great about tonight.

Harry emerges from the hotel bathroom while clearing his throat, hair finally tamed.

Only twenty minutes ago were you two completely naked and handling some serious sexual tension after seeing each other in your premiere attires. This is the second time you're putting on this dress, thanks to Harry.

"Of course, I can, baby," Harry says, gladly slipping behind you to admire the tan on your back. As Hot Shot was filmed in Florida, you were under the beaming sun for months, and Harry has never been so attracted to a simple tan.

He takes his time leading the zipper up your back. Your eyes shift to his through the mirror, and you both hold a long stare. It's filled with another potential round of tension.

Harry's eyebrow cocks up. Yours does too, in a tease. "One more round?" He speaks suggestively. Your hand reaches back to hit him on the forehead. It's ignored, though, as he continues to stare with hope.

Your boyfriend is a horny, horny man when it comes to you.

"Absolutely not. I can't be late to my own premiere," You scoff at him with an apparent look through the mirror.

"Sure you can," Harry shrugs, finishing the zipper, before wrapping his arms around you from behind. He presses a soft kiss to the crook of your neck. "Taking care of my beautiful girlfriend is worth the tardiness. Make her scream my name and tug on my hair because she just loves when my tongue plays with her pretty, pink clit so good, hmm? When it’s all swollen and sensitive. Spread her legs wide so she's all open for me. Her come sticking to her thighs that I'll lick up. How's that sound?" His mind seems stuck in a daydream as he trails his mouth to your ear. His hot breath shoots instant shivers down your neck.

You bite your lip and let your head fall back onto his shoulder. Your dress is slim, thin, innocent in pink but also seductive and sneaky enough to replicate your character in your film. Harry's hands can't help but wander down your sides and land on your hips. He unexpectedly bumps his thickened pants against your ass with a smirk.

"Trust me, we can be late, baby."

You sigh and slither around in his hold—facing him correctly. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you lean forward to kiss him. He eagerly waits to envelope your lips, holding you tighter at the hip.

"Just think—“ you whisper against his mouth—nude lipstick plumping your lips, "as soon as the afterparty is over, we'll have hours to do whatever we want. You can have me in any way, and I can take you from anywhere, for the rest of the night." If Harry wasn't already throbbing in his tight, dress pants, he is now.

"I can't wait," he responds breathlessly, before putting himself out of his misery and kissing you properly. He holds you loosely as his hands squeeze at every curve pulsing your body shape. He loves everything about you. And you're all his. But not for the whole day.

You pull back from the kiss and smile. "Ready, plus one?" You wink.

He laughs, "This is weird. Now I have to stand aside while you take pictures, huh?" You shrug.

"We’re too sexy-looking for the cameras to handle. It's for their own good," You joke. Harry grins, loving your voice, your humor, your smile. You. And he knows it's gonna be a long premiere with him having to share you with the world.

"Alright, let's go before I throw you on this bed. Again," Harry teases—one last kiss for good luck.

"Y/N!"

"Y/N, over here!"

"Y/N, who are you wearing?"

"Y/N, you look amazing, darling. Look here!"

"Y/N, what do you think about—“

Your name is being yelled out in all directions as soon as you step out of your car, finally arriving at the Hot Shot premiere. Your hand hovers over your eyes as you wait for Harry to round his side. He finds his arm around your waist and whispers, "Ready, superstar?"

"More than ever, rockstar," You say back, before letting him and your crew bodyguard you to the carpet. Tabloids have been waiting hours to see what you'll show up in. News channels have been pushing each other around in hopes to be the first to talk to you. Your fans have been nail-biting anxious to see how the premiere will treat you.

Today is going to be interesting, you think to yourself as you squeeze closer to your comfort person, Harry.

Hot Shot is your movie about a trained assassin, your character, who is being hunted down and chased by an ex-police officer, played by your co-star, Andrew Garfield. It involves a lot of action and sex scenes as the two characters have a big love-hate relationship.

This movie is different from what you've done before, and you're proud that it's finally out and people are going to see your hard work. That's what you tell the interviewers that stop you every few heeled steps.

Harry stands with your manager, waiting and watching patiently as you do your thing. A year ago when you two were at the premiere for your movie, The Good and Bad Days, Harry was by your side answering questions with you. But not anymore. As much as Harry loved to shoot the film and have his actor era with you, he missed touring and making music. That's why he's fine watching you instead of joining you.

"And yeah, I was a little nervous during—“

Suddenly, a heap of screams come from the fans at the barricades. You look over your shoulder at Harry, who simply shrugs. His height helps him slightly see over the crowds of people. But then his eyes focus on the man stepping out of his car with that award-winning smile.

Andrew Garfield.

You continue to answer questions, wanting to get all of your interviews out the way. And as everyone is asking the same thing, it's getting a little boring.

Andrew starts walking down the carpet, waving at fans, before quickly splitting away from his crew to take pictures with them. Harry watches from afar, his hands fisting at the one person he knows he’s going to have to deal with all night. Your main co-star.

As the two leads in the film, Harry knew, just like during promo season for The Good and Bad Days, you and Andrew would be together a lot. And you guys were. Three weeks of promo meant three weeks of Harry watching his girlfriend obliviously be flirted with.

You finish another interview, before your manager snatches you away. You thank them tremendously, before searching for your boyfriend. And he's standing patiently off to the side, making sure he's not drawing any attention. As famous as you were, Harry is also a popular face. And he wants to make sure he's not affecting your moment in any way.

"Okay, me and you. Pictures," you say as you approach Harry. He immediately finds his hand around your waist, pulling you into his chest. And you can feel the flashes of cameras on your back.

"Yeah, I'm ready," he nods while fixing your hair that got messed up from the slight pick up of wind.

Your manager stands next to you guys, explaining the next few steps. But it's nothing new to you two.

"So then, after this, Y/N, you'll come back for pictures with Andrew, and then the whole cast, okay?" Your manager says. You nod in understanding, missing the slight pout casting on Harry's face. He ghosts his eyes from you to find Andrew in the same position you were just in; answering questions for different news channels.

But as your back is to everyone and you're solely facing Harry—the only person you want to look at—you don't see how Andrew turns sideways to motion the premiere set as he answers a question. His eyes absentmindedly move to you and Harry, and the warm smile he had on forms into a devilish grin for a split second. He looks directly at Harry, before shifting to the backside of you. And the examination he gives you in your thin dress has Harry sidestepping so only he is in Andrew's line of vision.

"Hey, you okay?" You ask while tapping Harry's chest. Your makeup crew finishes their touch-up your face and disperses, allowing your full attention to be on Harry and his shift of mood. But he simply smiles at you in reassurance.

"Yeah, of course. You're just making it really hard to not get a dent in my pants," he leans forward to whisper in your ear. Harry enjoys the laugh and swat to his shoulder that you give him. And he doesn't miss the glare he gets from Andrew.

Your manager holds onto your arm to get your attention. "Alright, the carpet is ready for you two. Good?" They ask. You puff out a breath and slip your hand into Harry's. He kisses your cheek gently.

"You look gorgeous, baby. I'm kinda upset all these people are going to have pictures of you on their cameras,” Harry makes a joke, simply to see that smile.

Your head tilts back to laugh, stretching the cleavage that tips over the neckline of your dress. When you look back at Harry, he's unabashedly staring at them. You swat him again.

"Pervert," you mutter while he snickers. "Come on, boyfriend. Let's look hot for the cameras, once again." Harry nods, staying right by your side. And the slight shift of Andrew's jaw ticks as he watches, already over doing interviews.

You and Harry look amazing—you're a worldwide loved couple. And it shows as he swiftly stands in front of you, blocking the cameras, when you have a slight wardrobe malfunction with your dress.

"Fuck," you panic under your breath. Your hands shake as they tug up the neckline. Harry holds your waist, trapping you between himself and the backsplash.

"I got you, baby. No one can see, you're so small under me," He teases. You look up at him and copy the suggestive smirk on his face. "I love when you're under me."

"I'm sure you do, pervert." He earns a flick to his forehead. The cameras do catch that, and they aww at the intimacy of their favorite celebrity couple.

You two do multiple rounds of pictures—alone and together—taking a few steps to the side to get to your next checkpoint. Harry is holding you by the waist, but you take the attention from him with your gorgeous dress and perfectly posed face. Your eyes are thin and seductive from your eyeliner, but your dress screams sweet and innocent. The cameras can’t get enough of you.

After your fifth round, you two finally make it to the end, but only for Harry. You still have to go back and take pictures with Andrew and the rest of your cast.

"Alright, I'll be around, baby," Harry says as he helps you fix your hair again. You nod and pucker your lips. "Don't mind if I do."

Flash!

"They just love us, huh?" You laugh with your tongue out.

Before Harry can response, your name is being called. You look over your shoulder and there awaits Andrew with a friendly wave. You light up, returning the gesture to the best friend you’ve made over the last few months.

"Okay, bye, baby," You send Harry off without looking back and playfully skipping over to Andrew. He lifts his eyes to Harry and waves. The façade Andrew is holding up in front of you is infuriating Harry, but as you look back to see if he responded to Andrew's gesture, he sighs and sucks it up with a wave back.

Even though there are many, many cast members, people are only interested in you and Andrew. The chemistry between you two is sterotypical and front cover worthy. But you don’t see it as that serious. It just feel as if you're hanging out with your best friend—nothing more than that.

Harry is watching with your manager, and he can't hide the frown on his face. He hates this. He hates jealously.

The way Andrew holds you securely as you both smile at the camera is boiling his insides. The way Andrew leans down to whisper in your ear, and the way the smile that breaks out on your face makes the camera flashes spark quicker is hurting Harry's heart. He wants to be the only one who can make you do that. But he stays calm because every time your eyes find him, the look of pure love you give him is enough to keep him at bay.

Then it's time for the group pictures of the cast, and Harry's shoulders can relax because you and Andrew aren't alone. But you are together. And Andrew makes sure of that. He squeezes his thin body around everyone to find a space next to you. But it looks natural for him to do because you two are the leads in the movie. Of course, you two should stand together.

"This dress looks marvelous on you, Y/N," Andrew compliments you once again as the whole cast stands together for more pictures. You bump hips with him and smile.

"Thanks, but I think you'd look much better in this than me," you joke. Andrew uses that as an excuse to stare longly at your dress—Harry watches annoyedly—before nodding.

"Oh, yeah, for sure, darling." Oh, the accent. You can't help but shyly look away, especially from the pet name.

Your co-star on your other side holds your hand and squeezes it for your attention. You look away from Andrew to focus on them, laughing at an inside joke that the paparazzi zoom in on to take a picture of.

You are the star point of the red carpet.

They finally allow you to break off as it’s now time to watch the movie. Andrew continues to hold onto your waist as you both walk side by side to your crew.

"Yeah, took me two hours to get my hair to stay this way," He says.

"Wait, so you didn’t just wake up and your hair simply looked this good? I thought you were Andrew Garfield or something," You tease, reaching up to softly pat his head.

"Ha ha, Y/N," he rolls his eyes. You giggle and shy away from his eye contact by staring straight. But that makes you look at your boyfriend with his hands deep in his dress pants. You could moan from how hot he looks. Especially with that unapproachable expression etched on his face.

You glance up at Andrew and pat his back, where your hand is resting. “You remember Harry, right?" You ask as you approach your melancholy boyfriend. The only reason he perks up is simply because of you being close to him.

Andrew nods with his lips smirking innocently at Harry. His arm stays around you as his other sticks his hand out. "Long time, no see, Harry," he laughs, and so do you.

Harry smiles thinnly and takes Andrew's hand. But his eyes are trained on the arm that’s around your waist. "Yes," he slurs.

"How are you feeling, baby?" You ask, releasing yourself from Andrew to step into Harry’s space. Your hands rub up his arms, before they lay on his chest and rise. You stop when you're caressing his jaw.

Harry basks in the affection, especially because it's in front of Andrew, and all he can do is watch.

"I'm good. Ready to watch the movie," he replies, pushing hair behind your ears. Andrew grows a smile at that.

"Me too. Can't wait for you to see Y/N in it. She did amazing," he revels you.

You roll you eyes and reach to swat Andrew’s chest. Harry tick his jaw in jealously—you usually only do that to him. "He's just talking about himself but doesn't want to admit it," you say to Harry with a laugh. He only does it back because of how beautiful you are. His hands hold your waist loosely.

"No, Harry, you'll see," Andrew pushes again, and solely winks at him.

You scoff and grab Harry's arm before stepping away in search for your manager. "I'll see you in the theater, And and Drew," You wave to depart.

He laughs heartily, much more than you expect. "I'll get us a popcorn to share," he says, which you gasp at.

"A large?"

"Of course," he answers with raised shoulders, as if it's obvious. You mouth a loud cheer. Andrew can't wipe the whipped smile off his face. He sighs softly, finally switching his attention to the grumpy man your holding by his thick arm. "See you later, Harry," he calls out as you drag your boyfriend away. Harry only seesaws his eyes on Andrew, before turning away to let you lead him.

Harry totally forgot that the cast sits together. And of course, you're going to be next to Andrew. Great.

When you find your manager, they break down how the theater part of the premiere is going to work. While you listen, you stand in front of Harry and back yourself into him. He quietly wraps his arms around your front and traces your stomach. Your hands land on his, letting them follow whatever trail he's making.

"I wish we were sitting together," you say with your head facing the side—for Harry to look at.

"I do too, baby," he sighs against your cheek, meaning it more than ever.

"But I do more," you pout, and he laughs, kissing at your jaw. You're hidden in a corner from the red carpet. No one is around but your manager and your crew as they decompress. "I want to talk to you during the film and tell you all the secrets and how I did my stunts and stuff."

"I'll hear about it later, yeah?" He tries to sound cheery, just for your sake, and you nod sadly. Harry’s hands go rogue, traveling to your breasts that are begging to either be pushed in or out of the neckline.

You stay quiet with your lips parted, looking down at your boyfriend's hands. He turns you two around so you're facing a wall—him blocking you from everyone's eyes.

He kisses at your jaw again, sneakily sucking for a quick second before you can react. "You look so fucking beautiful, baby," Harry says, making you blush and mumble a thank you. "Best person dressed today. You stood out so much in those group pictures." His hands softly grope your breasts, and you peep out the quietest moan.

"Yeah?" It sounds like a whimper.

"Mhmm. And I get to call that beautiful woman mine," he smirks against your ear. The dent in his pants has made a return as it pushes into your ass. "Am I wrong, baby?" You quickly shake your head.

"Again," You gasp, before biting your lip. Harry chuckles and squeezes at your breasts while pushing his hips into you. He traces a finger at the spot where he guesses your nipple is. And he isn't wrong. Your back arches off of him, making it a little obvious that something is going on in this corner.

So, Harry lets go and turns you around. "Soon, my perfect girl," He promises against your lips before capturing them in a passionate kiss. You are breathless when he pulls away and smirks down at you. He finds your throat to hold and quickly squeeze the sides of before dropping his hand just as fast.

He's trying to rile you up.

"Is this punishment for not being seated with you?" You ask in a giggle. Harry shrugs and holds you right beside your breasts. His nails scratch at your shoulder blades.

"If I'm going to have to suffer, so will you," His tone is evident. You pucker out your bottom lip in a pout, and Harry easily kisses it. "Have fun, my love.” With a solid wink, he steps back and turns away. He follows one of your crew members, who leads him inside the building.

You stand there and watch him, breathless and unsatisfied. And as if he knows, Harry looks over at you and grins, before he disappears.

"Ready, Y/N?" Your manager gets your attention. You adjust your dress and nod. "Good, let's go inside and find your seat."

You immediately earn loud applaud as you enter the theater. The room is pointing their attention to you as you wave, walking up the aisle to your seat. While doing so, you search for your boyfriend. One, to scowl at him, and two, because you want to be able to watch his reactions during certain scenes.

As you're trying to discreetly find him because everyone is still staring, Andrew waves at you. You give up looking for Harry, for now, and sit down by your friend.

His smile is wide as he motions to your seat. "For you, m'lady," he bows slightly.

"Thank you, Andrew," You laugh and fix your dress as you sit. "Excited?" You ask, before your teeth sink into your lip. Andrew watches while nodding.

"Very. My friends are here," he says, pointing up higher in the theater. A group of people notice you two staring and wave.

"Hi," You mouth.

"Where's Harry?" Andrew asks. You frown with a shrug.

"I have no idea. But I want to find him before the lights dim," You speak more to yourself.

Andrew nods in agreement. "Well, I made sure to get us that popcorn," He averts your attention, leaning down to grab something between his legs. It's a big bowl of popcorn. "Extra butter," he winks.

"You know me so well," You sarcastically sigh, resting your head on his shoulder—pretending to be swooned.

"I'll be honest, I was already going to get extra butter. I just wanted to see how you'd react. That solely was going to make or break our friendship." Your head throws back to laugh as you swat at his chest.

And Harry sees it all as he sits higher than you and on the other side of the theater. He has a perfect view of you and Andrew, especially when you guys lean over to talk.

This is going to be a long movie.

When you told Harry about the dynamic between your character and Andrew's, he was fine with it, at first. You're an actress—you act out mature scenes all the time. But as he sits and watches you ride Andrew's lap, your moans taking over the room, Harry can't help but feel a level of rage over everyone watching this.

"I hate you so much," Your character, Anna, growls but it comes out as a moan. She holds Andrew's character, Maddy—yes his name is Maddy—by his shoulder. The frame shows your collarbones and up, sometimes wandering lower where your breasts, that Harry groped earlier, show.

"It's mutual," Maddy snaps back, before his jaw drops agape. Anna starts to jump, her head facing up to display the thin layer of sweat on her neck. Harry runs his tongue along his teeth. "You've made my life hell,” Maddy mutters with his lips against her chin. Anna suddenly smirks, and the camera angle changes, showing a front shot of her face looking down at Maddy. She looks sexy and dominant. Harry has to shift in his chair as he stares mesmerized by you.

Anna leans down so she almost kisses Maddy. "If you don't make me come in the next minute, you'll be wishing you were in hell than the place I'll send you." Her voice is raspy and it's demanding. Harry's favorite side of you. The camera shows Maddy, and the emotions masking his face as he takes in her words.

Harry uses that second to dart his eyes to you and Andrew. He's leant over his chair to whisper to you. He points to the screen and whatever he says makes you nod. What are you guys taking about? What happened when you guys were filming this scene?

When Harry turns back to the movie, Maddy smirks widely and flips them to missionary, lifting Anna's legs to lean against his chest. "You know what? I need to fuck this absolutely irritating attitude out of you. That's the issue." Then it shows Anna on her back—you looking so fucking sexy to Harry—as she pops an eyebrow up.

"You can try, officer."

Harry has to cast his eyes down to ignore the jealousy of someone else taking you like that—even though it obviously didn't actually happen. But he listens to your voice as you bobble out stuttered moans. He possessively wants to imagine that your sounds are only for him.

When the scene is finished and Harry can look up, he glances at you and Andrew. But he almost flinches in his seat when he sees Andrew already looking back at him. He smiles softly, motioning his head to the screen. Harry fists his hand, planting them on his thigh. This fucking guy.

Andrew gives Harry only a second more of his attention, before turning away. He holds out the bowl for you, which you gladly steal some popcorn from. You're fixated on the scene, not even knowing about the exchange. Or that your boyfriend is literally fuming in his seat.

So, the movie had multiple sex scenes. Ha, who knew?

Harry pouts and sighs and groans and adjusts and looks away and peeks an eye and curses and shifts and bites his lip and groans again. He does a lot while stuck in his seat, watching you and Andrew, and your characters on screen, from afar.

The movie finally ends with Anna smirking smugly at Maddy with a knife in her hand. She twirls it recklessly as she hums. The audience watches, waiting to see what her next move is. But Anna simply mouths symbolic words to Maddy before there is a loud sound of sliced skin. The audience gasps in unison as the screen goes black for a while before turning back on for credits.

The room erupts into cheers, most of them pointed at you and Andrew, while the lights flick back on. Andrew smiles over at you and pulls you in for a side hug.

"Congrats on an excellent movie, Miss L/N," Andrew jokes under his breath.

"And same to you, Mr. Garfield," You nod. "Maybe one day we'll see each other again for another movie."

"Oh, you're not getting rid of me. You're my bestie now." You bellow out a laugh, but quickly cover it when you realize how loud that was. Andrew leans down in his seat to laugh like you guys just got caught talking in class.

You stand up from your seat and look around for Harry. This time, he makes sure to get your eyes on him. He waves coolly but enough to catch your stare. And his heart jumps when a big grin breaks out on your face.

You mouth, "What did you think?" The only opinion that matters in this room to you. Harry nods and blinks ten fingers before doing it again to show ten out of ten.

You do a little dance in your spot, making him laugh. He casts his eyes to Andrew, who's solely watching you and your dancing. He says something to you that makes you stop and roll your eyes.

Harry is quick to join the line of people exiting the theater. He finds your manager and stands with them, knowing you'll eventually be here after getting the praise you deserve for the movie.

Despite hating your co-star, Harry loved the movie and everyone in it. You did amazing. But Harry already expected that. You did your own stunts and executed them flawlessly. He can't wait to show how proud he is of you.

And how predatory he is. He already knows exactly what's going to happen when he gets you back in your hotel room.

You're slow to leave the theater because of the people stopping you every two seconds. They aren't even waiting until you're out the theater. You have a whole afterparty to mingle and get praised, but people want to do it now.

But thanks to Andrew and his charisma, he helps maneuver you away from the crowds politely and to your crew.

"Thanks, Andrew," You say, turning to hug him because you know this is where you part. "You're a great movie partner. Especially with sharing popcorn."

Andrew snorts against your neck. "Thanks, Y/N. It was an honor." He pulls back, his height showing off as he stands straight. "See you at the afterparty?"

You nod and shimmy a little. "You know it!" He smiles as you turn and saunter off.

Harry watches, leaning his shoulder against the wall as you approach your crew. You first hug your manager and accept their praise and kisses.

"That movie was amazing. You were amazing," they say as you both pull away. Your smile is shy and thankful, still not comfortable with compliments. "Think you still got something in you to survive the afterparty?" Their eyebrows raise.

You giggle and nod. "Definitely. I need something to drink."

"Alright, honey. I'll see you then, okay?" You nod and thank them.

Your manager steps away, allowing Harry to have you all to himself. Your eyes meet his, and your teeth sink into your lip as you contemplate leaping into his arms. He chuckles softly as you take wide steps to close your distance.

"Hi, baby," He says as you wrap your arms around his neck and instantly engulf him in a hard kiss. Harry sighs within it—all the tension that was building inside of him whisking away.

You speak against his lips. "I didn't see you during the movie. I'm sorry.” Harry puckers so he slightly kisses you.

"I was kinda far so it's alright. But I saw you," He answers, grabbing at you everywhere to make up for the time you were out of reach and in Andrew's. Speaking of him, as you have your back to the commotion of people, only Harry can see Andrew in the crowd. He talks to who he assumes is his manager, but his gaze is pointed to you and Harry. Well, specifically you. But his eyes do glance at Harry when he realizes he's staring back.

"Damn, that's no fair. I wanted to see you squirm at that scene," you giggle, tugging on Harry's neck to keep him close as he tries to look somewhere else.

After not seeing Harry throughout the movie and watching those scenes without him, you are needy. And horny. You press your front against Harry's, searching for the dent that still hasn't been taken care of.

Harry knows what his girlfriend is doing and lifts an eyebrow at you—no type of interest in Andrew anymore. Only in the woman who's looking up at him with the same seductive eyes as her character.

"Well, I can assure you, I was definitely squirming. The poor lady beside me was going to get an eyeful if she looked down at my lap," Harry says, swiftly swatting at your backside, close to your ass.

Your smile widens. "Really? You liked it?"

"Of course, I did, baby. I loved it."

You sigh in his arms and Harry frowns in confusion. "I wasn't sure if you were going to enjoy it because of Andrew, you know?" Your voice is soft. Harry takes a few steps back, leading you guys into the shadows.

"I mean, no boyfriend wants to see another man have his girlfriend like that, but it's the world of acting," Harry shrugs. "And I wasn't focused on him, I was completely transfixed by you." He watches your eyes grow with a slight shimmer.

"Okay, good," you sigh in relief, before hiding yourself in his neck as you hug him. "I love you."

"And I love you, beautiful," Harry replies, eyes on the crowd in front of him. No one is paying attention to the couple as they are all trying to find their ride home. Andrew even gave up when he saw how focused you were on Harry. He knew he wasn't going to get your attention at all. He'd just have to wait until the afterparty—patience.

Harry leans down to stuff his nose into your soft skin, sprits with honey and vanilla perfume. "Ready to head back to the hotel?" You nod, slowly pulling away. You look over your shoulder at the crowd. Harry finds your hand to hold and lifts it to his lips. "Good, come on."

In the car, Harry can't help but smirk at your neediness. It's his favorite thing about you. Your lips continue to grab his every few seconds, intoxicated by his taste. And the sound he makes when you try to pull away for a breath. His big hands are groping every spot they land on, and as the partition is up, you don't mind letting out your soft whines.

When you two arrive at your hotel, Harry helps you to the entrance as numerous flashes of cameras attack you. He tells you to cover your eyes while you fist his dress shirt. Now that the sky is dark, the flashes are more prominent, and they sting. You'll never be used to this.

You two make it inside, and the loud calls of your name ringing in your ears die down. "Are you okay, baby?" Harry asks you while walking to the elevator. His arms swarm your body, even though you're safe in the building. Your head continues to hide in his chest, now enjoying his warmth. "No one is around. It's just us."

"The best news I could ever hear," you smile sincerely, looking up at him. Harry chuckles and swiftly captures your lips to kiss.

"Me too, beautiful."

The ride is quiet to your floor. Harry moves you to stand in front of him as he leans against the elevator wall. His arms are around you, luxuriating the last moments of you in this thin dress. He finds your ear to whisper in.

"Are you gonna let me have you before the afterparty?" He asks, holding your jaw and turning it so you're looking at him from the side.

Your nude lips plump, before your teeth sink into them. Harry is quick to yank them out. And he watches as it jiggles.

"We won't be going to the afterparty if I do," You laugh.

"I promise you that we will," Harry says. "Just wanna love on my baby first."

You sigh and shake your head. "I don't trust myself. But we have all night afterwards." Harry tries to fight your decision, squeezing at your body and trailing his hot breath along your face. Of course, you're dripping wet in your panties and want nothing more than to take this man any way he wants, but you have to make an appearance at the afterparty.

Harry is pouting while you two walk to your hotel room. You continuously poke at his indented dimple and swing your joined hands with the other. "I can't believe people finally saw the movie. Do you think they liked it?" You ask, hoping to distract your boyfriend.

He nods sternly. "Of course, they did. It was really good, Y/N. I promise," He tells you. "And I'm not just saying that because I'm your boyfriend."

You smile shyly. "Okay, good," You speak softly. Harry chuckles, pinching your chin, before unlocking your room door. The cool breeze invites you in, and that alone makes you want to end the night early. "Unzip me?" Harry chuckles at your eagerness. He unzips your dress, watching the tension leave your body as you're not trapped in that tight material anymore.

"Better?" He asks, before kissing your shoulder blade. You nod lazily with a moan from your skin getting the circulation it needs.

Harry watches you brush pass him and fall back onto the bed. Your breasts finally spill out the top of your dress, but you don't care at this point. Your arms stretch over your head as you moan out a yawn.

"How much time we do have?" Harry asks, approaching you at the bed. He stands at the end, where your knees hang off. He leans down to grab the hem of your long dress and begin to roll it up.

"I don't know. I think the party starts right away, so, soon?" You respond, sitting on your elbows to watch him. The room is quiet while Harry bunches your dress up your legs. He gets it pass your knees so you can finally spread them, giving him space to stand between them. His eyes admire your perfect body, before they stare at the straps on your shoulders. You notice and slide them off—slowly to come off suggestive. A smirk curls on both of your lips.

"You sure we don't have time?" Harry utters.

You shake your head, now a shit-eating grin on your face. "Nope." Harry sighs and continues to push your dress up. He gets it over your stomach, and the sight makes him lean down to press a wet kiss there.

"Are we one hundred percent sure, baby?" Harry drops his voice while your dress is over your breasts that perfectly spill on your chest. "Just five minutes?"

"No," You laugh, pushing at Harry's head when he aims for your puckered nipple. "We'll never leave."

Harry groans dramatically. "Fine," He huffs, finally getting your dress off of you. He stands up straight, looking down at his favorite, naked sight. Your eyes are warm as they stare up at him.

The way your boyfriend has made you feel over the past year has grown your confidence. You aren't embarrassed or quick to cover yourself anymore when his eyes are on you. Now, you feel sexy as his gaze darkens, and you can only imagine the things going on in his head.

Harry sucks in a sharp breath, taking a step back. You sit up on the bed. "I'm gonna head downstairs to wait for you," he says in a clipped tone, trying to avoid his lingering stare on your body.

"Why?" You whine, standing up. Harry puffs out a sigh—his eyes wandering on the ethereal sight he gets to call his.

He holds your sides and squeezes. "Because I will do very bad fucking things to you, baby, if I stay any longer," He answers, seriously. His hips snap forward for you to feel the pain in his pants. You gasp, before laughing. "For your own safety, I'm gonna go. Just meet me downstairs when you're changed, okay?"

You playfully pout, doeing your eyes. Harry leans forward to nibble on your lip. The sound that comes out of your mouth forces him to step back and clear his throat. Especially because you're still naked and probably wet in your panties.

"Yeah, I definitely need to leave." You giggle. "This gentleman boyfriend thing I got going on is not gonna last long."

"Okay, I'm sorry. I'm done messing with you," you say, swiftly kissing him. "I'll be down soon. I'm just gonna change into my afterparty dress. My makeup is fine, right?"

Harry nods. "Perfect. You're perfect."

You shyly swat at his chest and turn away. Your hair doesn't hide the light shining down your back and ass as you swing your hips while walking away to the other room, where your new dress hangs.

Harry sighs and quickly steps out the hotel room. When he's on the other side, he presses his forehead against the door and groans. "Fuck, Y/N," he chuckles while shaking his head.

"What? You got kicked out?"

Harry jumps, thinking he was alone. His head whips in the direction of the voice, and his expression immediately drops when he realizes who it is.

Andrew fucking Garfield.

"Of course, you're on our floor," Harry scoffs under his breath.

"Yeah, next door actually," He shrugs. Andrew stands tall and smug with his hands hidden in his pants pocket. He stalks over, looking Harry up and down.

"And I'm meeting Y/N downstairs," Harry answers Andrew's earlier question, walking away to the elevator. Andrew takes wide strides to catch up to him. Both men are long and leggy, but Harry still beats him in height. It does make him feel better. Especially because you've made it known a lot that you love height on a man.

"How is Y/N? Is she tired after the premiere?" Andrew asks while Harry clicks the button for the elevator.

"A little, but she's set on going to this afterparty," Harry entertains the man, trying not to get agitated with him around. The last thing Harry wants is for you to think something is wrong with him. You'll easily find out just from one look. You know your boyfriend like the back of your hand.

"Oh, good. I can't wait to see her outfit," Andrew speaks his thoughts out loud. Harry grimaces, and luckily the elevator arrives to save him from responding how he really wants to.

The men step inside the elevator, and Andrew clicks for the lobby, before leaning against the opposite wall as Harry.

"She looked incredible today. Don't you agree?" Andrew asks the obvious, cocking his head to the side.

Harry nods, "Incredible isn't enough. Don't think there's a word to describe how amazing she looked." Andrew pauses, staring at Harry. He notices that Andrews gone quiet. "What?"

He shakes his head. "No. It's just... I agree."

Harry and Andrew are quiet for the rest of the ride down. Harry is very thankful for that. The less he has to speak to Andrew, the fucking better.

When the elevator dings, announcing that they've made it to the lobby, Andrew suddenly turns to Harry.

Harry's eyebrow cocks up as he stares back.

"Hope you don't mind if I steal your girlfriend for a while tonight." Before Harry can speak, Andrew is gone, taking a fast but smooth pace out the hotel. Harry growls, shifting his jaw annoyedly.

Yeah fucking right.

You arrive in the lobby, searching for Harry. You don't notice how his eyes immediately find you and widen at your dress. It's so... short. But you still look beautiful, and Harry knows eyes are going to be on you, all fucking night.

"Baby," Harry calls out for you while standing up. As you have the worst awareness, Harry has to wave as well because you still couldn't spot him.

But when you do, a wide smile spreads on your lips as you quicken your heeled steps to him. Harry chuckles as you fall into his chest, swiftly kissing his neck.

"How do I look?" You ask, spinning in his arms—his hands gripping at your body like he's in pain.

"My honest answer would give me a reserved spot in hell, so my respectful answer is gorgeous," Harry states, kissing your forehead. You laugh loudly, brushing your nose against his jaw. "Are you ready?"

"Mhmm," you nod, before sighing. "Let me just enjoy this, real quick. I have a feeling people are going to be stealing me away from you tonight." Harry's eye twitches from you using that specific word—the same as Andrew.

Harry holds you closer. "No one can take you away from me," He whispers. You nod in agreement.

"And vice versa," You look up at him. "If I catch one woman speaking to you, I'll be kicking ass at my own afterparty." Harry laughs, your words music to his ears. Another thing he enjoys the most about you is your jealously. It makes his feel tame.

"Come on, baby," He says, finding your waist to hold as he leads you out the hotel.

The afterparty is dark and beaming shades of red to replicate the aesthetic of yours and Andrew's character dynamic. You continue to gasp the further you and Harry walk in.

"This looks incredible," You exclaim, tugging on Harry's arm. The sound of mingling is loud, so you lean in for Harry's ear. "Doesn't it look incredible in here, baby?" Harry turns his head to you and nods.

"It does. You like it?" Your answer is formed through a kiss, before you continue to look around. Harry leads you two to the bar, ready to start your rounds of drinks to warm you up. As the left side of your waist is showing, Harry finds his hand resting there. One, to touch your cool, smooth skin. Two, to cover it.

He loves how you look and wants the world to see it too, but he can't help his predatory senses trying to cover you up. He's already having to deal with your legs being on display for everyone to gawk at. They're long and beaming against the neon lights before they meet your tight stilettos.

You walk shyly, already feeling eyes on you. Harry finds your ear. "This is going to be a long night for me. I hope you know that." Your nerves disappear as you focus on your boyfriend—his objective.

"Yeah?" You giggle. You two finally reach the bar and snag a seat. Harry decides to stand behind you, holding your waist loosely and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You love to tease me, huh, baby?" He smiles against your ear. You shrink in your spot, smiling like a school-girl. The pet names get the best of you. Harry squeezes your thigh, before moving to stand beside you. "What do you want to drink? Champagne?"

You nod, leaning your elbow on the counter with your head facing Harry. Your eyes are too transfixed on how fucking handsome he is that you don't feel another presence on the other side of you until he speaks.

"Hey, favorite co-star." You almost jump from how close the voice is. Both yours and Harry's head turn to look over at Andrew.

You sit up straight and gasp. "Hey, you made it!" Your arms open for him to step into. Harry immediately places his hand on the small of your back, slowly crawling to stretch around you.

"You made it too," Andrew laughs. He glances at Harry with a short, challenging glare. "Hey, Harry." But doesn't give him the time to respond because he's focused back on you.

Harry rolls his eyes, now distracted by the bartender as he asks for drinks. You promptly turn to Harry, swiftly kissing his cheek, as he places your orders. "That's it?" He asks you. A nod is your response.

Andrew leans against the counter to speak to the bartender afterward. "I'll get what they're having too." You smirk at Andrew, getting two different reactions from both men.

"Oh, so you’re copying my drink order again. That didn't end after filming, huh?" You tease. Andrew shrugs, turning his body to face you but keeps his elbow on the counter. Harry wants to pull you into him as your body language shows interest in Andrew.

"Yeah, I still can never decide on a drink. It's just easier to copy you. We basically have the same taste," He says with an innocent smile but Harry sees right through it.

He clears his throat loudly, but when he realizes you didn't hear him, he then gently kisses your shoulder. You glance back at him, lifting an eyebrow. "What happened, baby?" You ask, reaching a hand back to search for him. He easily takes yours and intertwines your fingers with his.

"So, Harry, did you enjoy the movie?" Andrew asks Harry before he can get a word out to you. Your eyes light up at the question, and so does Harry's heart. The look you stare at him with makes his rival with Andrew a little more meaningless. He'll never get the eyes you give him.

"I did," Harry nods, tickling your chin. "You both did great." You smile widely, and Harry consumes the gesture inside him. It gives him instant butterflies—your smile.

"Thank you, H," Andrew interrupts your small, intimate moment. "Hey, no hard feelings about, you know, those scenes, right?” His smirk is knowing. You gasp at Andrew and swat at his chest—a little more force than usual. But he doesn’t mind. "Hey, what did I do?" He teases, shriveling his nose.

Harry's jaw ticks again. "Oh my god, Andrew. Shut up," You laugh. One of your arms are naked as the other is long sleeved from the design of your dress. The nude arm is on Andrew's side as you reach up to wrap it loosely around his shoulder. He hums as he gets to feel your lukewarm skin on his neck. "You're the worst. You know that?" You joke, locking your arm tightly.

"I'm your favorite co-star. Don't lie to the people," He replies, motioning to Harry. He enjoys every tick and growl and huff he receives from him.

You remove yourself from Andrew—too soon for his liking—and scoff. "That's a lie," You say, trying to avoid a smile. But Andrew gasps and squeezes at your arm.

"Leading me on, huh?"

You roll your eyes, before smiling at Harry. "He's a handful," You pretend to whisper but Andrew obviously hears it. Harry entertains your joke with a nod while you find your arms slithering around his neck. Your fingers play with his hair and tug on it to test him.

Harry grins, at both your PDA and Andrew awkwardly watching the exchange. Harry adores that you will love on him anywhere, anytime, no matter what.

"Here's your drinks," The bartender returns with three glasses of champagne. Harry starts to grab both of yours, but Andrew moves quicker and takes yours.

"Here, darling," He blurts while holding the drink out for you. Harry grumbles under his breath, fisting one of his hands. You stare at the drink before lifting an eyebrow at Andrew. That was weird. "What?" Andrew shrinks at your offended stare.

You let one arm fall from Harry to take the drink. "Thanks," you slowly speak. Your attention is back on Harry as he grabs his own. "Cheers?" His smile returns when your face approaches his to make this moment about solely the two of you.

"To you, baby," He says, intimately. Your blush is saved from being seen because of the shaded lights in the room. But Harry knows you too well. His thumb picks at your bottom lip. "No need to get all shy on me."

You push his hand away from your face. "I'm not shy," You scoff.

Momentarily forgetting Andrew is there, you jump when you feel him against your side. He has his drink lifted, waiting to clink with yours.

"Cheers to you, Y/N," He says.

You smile nicely and raise your drink. "Cheers to us," You correct him. Andrew chuckles and tips the rim of his glass with yours before downing the sparkling liquid. You swiftly turn back to your boyfriend and repeat the gesture. Harry's heart throbs for you at the simple move.

"Cheers," You whisper and sip at your drink. Andrew finds his hands on your shoulders to squeeze.

"I can't believe we did it. Today was amazing," He beams as you spin in your seat. Harry continues to jealousy drink with his elbow on the counter to clearly watch your exchange.

You nod in agreement. "I've been waiting for this day since we finished filming. Can't believe it happened." Andrew raises his eyebrows.

"I wonder what everyone thought."

"I don't," You laugh. "I rather not know." Harry takes that as his cue to butt in and kiss your cheek. Your lips instantly curl into a smile.

"Don't worry about everyone else. You did amazing, baby, that's all that matters," He tells you.

Andrew lifts his glass at that. "H is right." Harry wants to snap at him to quit it with the nickname. But as another presence approaches, he stops himself.

It's your manager, grinning ear-to-ear. You finally slide off the bar stool to properly hug them.

"Hey, superstar. How are you feeling?" They ask you. Both Harry and Andrew watch solely you and how you expressively answer the question. Smirks find their faces from the thoughts invading their minds.

Your manager holds your hand then looks at Andrew. "Everyone wants to speak to you two. I say stay together and kinda circle the room. Okay?" Harry groans out loud, not caring about your manager's scold.

You giggle and back yourself into your boyfriend. He still huffs while holding onto you protectively.

"I'll take good care of her, Harry," Andrew sounds assuring to you, but Harry can read him just by the look his face. You pat Andrew's chest for his attention, which he easily gives you.

"So, what you're saying is that you'll speak for me, and I don't have to talk to anyone," You joke, making everyone laugh. Harry squeezes your sides and presses a kiss to your shoulder. Your naked arm wraps behind him to land in his hair. The other brings your drink to your lips.

Andrew clears his throat. "That's exactly what I mean. Just need you to smile and wave." You cheer theatrically. Your manager claps their hands.

"Perfect. I'll guide you two around. Let's go." Andrew already moves to follow them, but you lag behind, waiting for him to step away. When he's gone, you turn around in Harry's arms. You two meet eyes and stare at each other, lovingly.

"Gonna miss me?" You ask, sipping at your drink.

"Don't know how I'm gonna manage," He sighs playfully. And his heart throbs again at the sound of your perfect laugh. "You owe me a dance, though."

"I'm saving all my good moves for you, Styles," You giggle. "Now kiss me, please." Harry doesn't hesitate to hold you in a passionate, champagne tasting kiss. Tongues are swiftly included, but you pull back before it continues.

"Am I allowed to find someone to hang out with while you get Garfield?" Harry asks, both of your foreheads touching. Your eyebrows furrow.

"You're asking if you can talk to anyone in this room besides me? Absolutely not." Your face is serious when you answer. Harry laughs and can't help his craving for your lips. "Go ahead and mingle, grumpy. I'll try to be as quick as possible," You say while caressing his cheek in your hand.

Harry nods as you step back. "Alright, you need to leave or I'm going to have no choice but to take you on this bar counter," He says. You glance over at the bar and pop up a suggestive eyebrow. Harry pokes at your breast to stop you from testing him.

"I'd be down, but I don't think that would be sanitary," You shrug.

"With the way you come, definitely not." You gasp, swatting at his shoulder.

"Goodbye, Styles." You spin on your heel and lift a hand to wave. Harry unabashedly watches your ass sway as you walk away from him. He sips on his drink, leaning back on the bar.

You catch up to Andrew and your manager—Harry keeping eyes on you. Andrew's eyebrows raise when you show up beside him, and his hand wraps around your waist. It looks polite and friendly to everyone surrounding them but Harry's hand squeezes around his glass at the action.

Just fucking wait until he gets you home.

You are tired and horny as Harry leads you out of the afterparty building and to the car. He doesn't give you time to give anyone a proper goodbye, especially Andrew, because he physically drags you away. He's a man on a mission.

"Why are you making me walk so fast, Harry? My feet hurt," You whine at the pounding throb in your heels. You notice the dimple indenting his cheek as he chuckles. You childishly pout, knowing he's laughing at you. "Meanie," You mutter.

When you two get outside, the cameras instantly hit you, forcing you to hide against Harry's chest. You feel the groan he lets out as he holds you. The one thing he hates more than your co-star are paparazzi. Especially when they swarm you like this. Harry has been a star since he was a teenager—he's used to this.

But he can feel his ears smoke with rage when you get attacked by paparazzi. There are guards surrounding the two of you to help. So, Harry becomes your eyes as he guides you blindly into your designated car.

You hear a door handle being pulled. "Get in, baby. I got you," Harry yells over the loud voices calling out to you. He helps you slide into your seat before he's following behind you. An arm still stay around you as he finds your chin to lift to him. "You okay, baby?" He asks, pecking the corner of your mouth. Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the dimmed car. The tinted windows block the camera flashes that punch against the glass.

"Yeah," you more or so whine. Harry laughs and softly kisses your lips.

"Good, gotta make sure I always take care of my baby, huh?" He breaths into your mouth. He tastes like champagne and fruits—platters of them were being passed around. You moan within the kiss to ask for more. Harry will gladly give you anything you want. He moves his hands down to squeeze at your curves while sucking on your lips.

Something suddenly turns on inside of you that makes your body completely crave for your boyfriend. The car takes off and speeds down the populated road, hiding the moaning couple behind the wide windows. Harry grips your sides to assist you on his lap as you plead for him.

"Love being close to you," Harry groans when you sit on top of him and press your chest to his. Your slightly taller height makes his chin tilt up to stare at your floaty eyes. "What do you want, Y/N. Tell me." Your hands are around his throat—for balance as the car takes sharp turns, and to force out the vocals that escape him as you squeeze it.

"More," You puff out, before finding his lips again. They don't break away as you slowly start to grind yourself on the dent in his pants.

As your dress is short, Harry grabs the hem and lifts it so only your panties are in the way. You gasp at the new sensitivity.

"Go on," Harry says, groping your ass cheeks as you move on him. He slaps one cheek before digging his nubbed nails into them to claim what's already his. “Use me.” Your hand moves to his shoulder while the other grips the seat behind him.

Your moans are against his mouth as both of your jaws freeze agape. Harry's breath is hot as it brushes yours. He can feel you wetting his pants, but he keeps his hands tame on your ass instead of finding your cunt.

He's waiting until he gets you upstairs and next door to a certain someone before unleashing himself. He has hours of raging, predatory emotions that need to be thrusted inside of you. Whether it's in your mouth or cunt, Harry needs to have you. He's let some other man have you for far too long.

You reach between the two of you to hook a finger in your panties. Harry knows what you're trying to do, so he gently stops you. Your eyebrows furrow at him. "Why?" You choke out, still continuing to brush your clit against him. It shocks every nerve when he nudges you.

"Just... not yet. Wait til we get upstairs, okay?" He says, looking up at you. His eyes suddenly dilate at the sight. It's the same angle from that scene in your movie. But instead of getting the smug smirk of Anna—her hissing voice taunting Maddy, Harry looks up at begging eyes and pouted lips that push out a whine. He gets a you only he's privileged to see. It causes a drunk smile to form.

"What?" You question from his new look. He only shakes his head, before leaning forward to kiss you. "Why can't we? Please."

"Be patient."

As he says that, the car hits a pothole, causing you to accidentally push down against his cock. You gasp loudly, tightening your hand on his shoulder. Harry has to shut his eyes to calm himself down as he's one more thrust into taking you right in this car.

The rest of the drive home feels longer than to the afterparty. Maybe it's because of Harry trying to hold back from yanking himself out his pants. Or from the sight of you hovering over him, your temptress lips trailing his jaw and puffing out a fruit-scented breath.

You weren't making the car ride any easier for him. You don't know why he wants to wait, but you could care less. You discreetly rotate your hips, pretending like you're simply adjusting in your spot. But the tut Harry gives you makes it obvious that you're chasing for a release.

Harry has to physically lift you off his lap to stop you. The wet stain on his raised pants has him biting his lip. He can almost taste you on his tongue.

You whine at the disconnection and lean forward to kiss him, hoping to distract his hands. It works for a moment as they slide up your back. So, you swiftly drop back down on his lap, both of you moaning.

"Baby, just wait," Harry tells you, holding you up again. "I'll give you everything you want, okay?"

"I want it now," You complain like a child, pushing at his hands to release them from your sides. But his grip only tightens. Harry laughs at your weak slap to the back of his hand. You huff and decide to finally listen so you don't end up in a punishment.

"Good girl."

"Stop riling me up," you say and flick him. His nose shrivels to laugh.

"I'm sorry."

"But you're not," You snap, pinching his chin. Harry smiles widely at your perfect, frowned face.

"I am," He argues playfully. You sigh and rest your head on his shoulder, your body calming down.

"I miss when you had the hormonal tendencies of a caveman."

Harry slaps at your ass. "You mean when I had to carry you around because you couldn't walk."

You nod on his shoulder, before kissing it. "Princess treatment and good sex? I was spoiled. The good ol' days."

Harry smirks but you can't see it. "Oh, I can make it happen again. Just wait until we're upstairs."

You lift your head to look at him. His expression is smug and dangerous. Another shockwave pulses in your cunt.

"Yay me," You snicker.

As soon as the car pulls up to your hotel, paparazzi are waiting to give you a not-so warm welcome. Harry holds you like before and guides you inside. The rapid, cold flashes of the camera hits him instead, which he's fine with. He'll do anything to protect you.

The hotel doors close behind you two, and Harry walks further inside the lobby before letting you go. You sigh while stretching your muscles straight. Harry fixes your hair that he accidentally messed up.

"You okay?" He asks you with a gentle smile. You step into his space, finding an arm to round his neck. Your answer is a nod, and a long, loving stare that widens his lips. "Good, I love you." Harry gives you a short kiss that you hum into.

Goosebumps run up your naked arm that's around his neck. Harry turns his head to kiss a trail. You watch with your teeth sinking into your lip. You two don't even realize the public setting you're in as your only focus is each other.

Harry takes your arm from his neck to interlace your hand with his. He leads you the elevator and away from the windows of people.

"Now will you let me sit on your cock?" You beg in a broken whisper from how desperate your body suddenly becomes. Harry raises his eyebrows in amusement, looking down at you.

"What a dirty mouth you have, missy," He teases you. You roll your eyes, exaggeratedly. "Don't do that." He pinches your side.

"You're annoying," You groan.

Harry shrugs. "You love me," He smiles.

"Don't assume that. Especially when you rejected me in the car."

"I just told you to wait," He argues with a laugh. Your frown is so pretty. The way your plump lips cast downward, and your brows meet your soft eyes. You're trying to look mad but Harry only finds it cute.

"Yeah, and now I'm dripping and unsatisfied," you point a finger at him.

"I'll gladly take care of that," Harry snorts, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

As you two are walking, ignoring the rest of the guest in the lobby, you guys don't notice a figure jogging up to you.

"Good because—"

"Y/N! Harry! Wait up."

Harry immediately tenses up at that voice, and the dent in his pants dies down.

Fucking Andrew Garfield.

You turn and meet eyes with your co-star. A disappointed-hidden smile finds your lips as you wave at him.

"Hey, Andrew," You say, cheerfully. Harry's hand squeezes yours, and you look over your shoulder at him. His face is hard while staring at Andrew. "Nice dog," You tease and push your ass against him. That earns a raspy groan.

Andrew reaches you two and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Hey, guys. I didn't see you leave. Thought you ran to the bathroom or something," He chuckles.

"Nah, I got tired and needed Harry to help me escape," You say. "Sorry about that."

Andrew swiftly waves you off. "No worries. I'm glad I found you, though." You playfully aww and pat his chest.

"Miss me that much?" You tease him. The honest words were behind his eyes that only Harry notices. He takes a step closer to your back, feeling your warmth against him.

Andrew only gives Harry a half glance before he's focusing on you. "Of course. Who else could I suffer a million praises with?"

"Yeah, that felt never ending, huh?" You shiver at the amount of mingling your manager put you through before Harry thankfully took you away.

"Felt? No, it was," Andrew raises his eyebrows, making you laugh. "But luckily, I was able to escape too. Unfortunately, I didn't have a Harry to help me." You chuckle and look over at your boyfriend. He only cracks a smile because now you're watching at him. His face was stone cold moments before, glaring at Andrew.

"Well, it was nice seeing you again," You attempt to end the conversation. Harry takes that as his cue to motion you to the elevators.

Andrew's long legs keeps him up to pace with you two. "My room is actually on your floor. Mind if I join the ride up?" He asks, but it's basically rhetorical as he follows.

You groan under your breath—Harry can tell and laughs. "Sure," you shrug, before turning to Harry. "Tired, baby?"

Tired is the complete opposite of what Harry is feeling, but he knows what you're trying to do. He nods and forces a yawn out. "Very," he sighs.

"Same. At least we'll be in bed soon," You respond and reach for the elevator button.

Andrew clears his throat. "It's been a long day, huh?" He asks, specifically you. Harry leans a shoulder against the wall and swings your interlaced hands. Absentmindedly, he brings the back of your hand to his lips. Andrew notices how you sigh lovingly from the gesture.

"Long isn't enough to explain today," You joke. "I'm going to sleep so well, as soon as I hit that bed."

Andrew chuckles. "Yeah, if you hear me snoring loudly, you know why," He says. "I'm next door to you." Your eyebrows raise.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," He nods. "If Harry gets too annoying, you're always welcome over." The only reason you laugh is because it's expected.

Harry ticks his jaw, just like Andrew wants.

"I'm alright, I can handle this big grump," You say, pressing into your boyfriend.

Luckily, the elevator opens to kill off this conversation. You three step inside—you and Harry taking one side while Andrew leans on the other. He watches as you wrap an arm around Harry's waist and press your head into the crook of his neck. The gesture is intimate and gentle. Your eyes shut, knowing you're safe against your boyfriend.

Harry turns his attention to Andrew and smiles—it looks friendly, but Andrew knows it's anything but. Harry holds the back of your head, and you hum in approval. The soft piano music and the rhythmic ding of the elevator reaching another floor fills up the silence.

Andrew reaches for his tie, loosing it. "So, Harry, when's the next time you think you'll do a movie again?" He asks your boyfriend. Harry shrugs with his lips puckered.

"Not sure. Focusing on music for now," He answers. "But I enjoy just watching Y/N in movies." Your ears stay attentive to the conversation. Even though he can't see it, Harry knows you're smiling at his words.

"Well, I think next time you do, we should be in it together. Would be fun, don't you think?" Andrew says. You suddenly pop your eyes open with a loud gasp. Both men flinch from the sound, surprised, as they stare at you jolting up and clapping your hands.

"Imagine!" You exclaim. "You two in a movie together? The world would go crazy. I would go crazy."

Andrew perks up. "Really?" You nod wildly. "Hmm, maybe you should be in it with us."

"Pretty sure you'd steal all the attention," Harry says and squeezes at your side.

"Well, obviously," You playfully shrug. They both laugh at that. "But you two as partners in crime? Harry Styles and Andrew Garfield? I'd pay good money to watch that movie."

Andrew pops an eyebrow up "Just that good looking, huh?"

"Too good looking." Even though it was a harmless compliment, Andrew took it straight to the heart. He couldn't help the shy smile on his face.

You look up at Harry and hold his shoulders. "Then you can get back at me when all the women in the theater gawk over your character."

Harry rests his hands on your hips. "I don't need to get back at you. And I don't need women gawking at my character."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms. "Ugh, stop being such a fictional man. It's making me uncomfortable." Both Harry and Andrew laugh at your comment. As does the elevator with the sound of the doors sliding open. "Oh, that's us."

The men follow you out, both catching a quick glance at the backside of you. Your black dress hugging your curves, and your naked arm displaying your glowing, smooth skin as you stretch. Your legs powerfully walk down the hall—subconsciously swinging your hips. Harry easily finds his cock tightening against his pants once again.

"You're one lucky bastard," Andrew mutters for only Harry to hear as they trail behind you. A smile grows on Harry's lips.

"I am," He nods. "And you're soon going to be one unlucky bastard," He says, holding Andrew's shoulder for a short second.

He frowns at Harry. "What? Why?"

"You'll hear."

Andrew starts to ask again, but you appear, grabbing at Harry's open suit jacket. You smile kindly at Andrew, "Have a good night, Andy. I had fun!"

With that, you're yanking Harry into your room. But he's quick to wink at your co-star, before you're shutting the door behind you two.

Harry is suddenly being pushed against the same door with you dropping to your knees. You are swift to unbutton his pants and tug them and his boxers down in one go. Your mouth is physically watering from the sight of his cock. Harry lets out a much-needed sigh, finally being released from his tight pants.

"Someone's eager, I see," Harry chuckles over you.

"Whatever," You mutter, looking up at him. "Now are you gonna fuck my throat or what?" Harry's eyes widen in amusement, and his cock twitches from your words.

"Is that what you want, pretty girl?" He leans down and grasps your jaw. It's a hard grip, forcing a whine out of you. His thick thumb pushes pass your lips slowly. You hum and circle your tongue around it—mimicking familiar gestures to his cock.

Harry uses his other hand to fixate your hair into a ponytail. "I love when my girl is so desperate for me—hmm. Yeah, is that what you are?" You nod, sucking on his thumb to rile him up. It works because he hisses under his breath.

"I want to choke on you, H. So bad. Please," You whine, muffled. His thumb pushes down on your tongue, before pulling away and running along your bottom lip.

"Yeah, you were thinking about my cock down your little throat, baby?" Your body shivers from his tone.

"All day," You answer, digging your nails into his thighs to stop yourself from grabbing at his cock that hangs in front of your eyes. Harry hums, taking himself in his hand and pumping slowly. His abs clench, and his head rolls, showcasing the underside of his jaw.

As much as you want his cock inside of your throbbing cunt, you don't have time to wait for that. You need him in you somehow, even if it means coughing and gagging on his cock. Harry is anything but small, and you whine from the thought of him pushing against the walls of your mouth and throat.

Harry continues to pump himself while also dragging the tip of his cock along your lips. Your tongue swipes along the bottom, collecting the come that transferred.

You adjust on your knees, unable to stay still. Harry smirks widely at the sight of you squirming for him. It's all he could ever ask for. For you to only want him.

"Alright, baby, gonna let me choke you now?" Harry pushes down on your lip to separate them.

"Yes, please," You say, before sticking your tongue out without him even needing to ask you. His desperate girl.

Harry's hand tightens on your hair to get a good grip. You suck in a breath, preparing yourself as he leans his hips forward. As soon as his tip slides inside your mouth, you're a moaning mess. He's heavy and warm with a lingering taste of salt.

Harry curses under his breath as he watches himself disappear into you, slowly to laver the feeling of his cock being warmed up. The noises you let out vibrate around him. His legs instantly lock up from it.

Your eyes stay trained on Harry and his hard expression. He softly taps on your chin, silently asking you to open wider. You do your best to widen. The stretch to your throat as he pushes farther already causes you to gag.

Harry gasps, pausing his movements. You feel him tighten his grip on your hair. "Fuck me, Y/N," he groans, fluttering his eyes shut. "Already about to make me come." He whimpers. A sense of pride blossoms inside you.

Being praised is already a kink of yours, but it's grown since being with Harry. Having that assurance that you're making him feel good is always great to hear.

You have to shift again as your feel yourself dripping in your already filled panties. You let go of Harry's thighs momentarily to pull the hem of your dress over your ass. The whiff of cold air hitting your clit against your panties makes you moan. And that goes straight to Harry's cock.

He snaps his hips forward, pushing as far as he can. "Oh, god, baby. Fuck... fuck... yes," Harry mumbles. He brushes his thumb against your cheek. "Not even gonna give me a chance to fuck your mouth? So desperate for my come, aren't you?"

Your eyes are apologetic but also taunting. Harry smirks, slowly pulling his cock from you. You both watch him escape, slick with your saliva, and the drool connects from his tip to your mouth. His jaw falls agape at the sight.

"Okay, you ready for me?" He holds himself straight. You nod and open your mouth. "Just stay there and look pretty for me." You giggle and nod again.

Harry slips into your mouth. The wet noises and gurgling you let out fills the room. You try to relax your mouth, focusing on breathing before he starts his bullet pace.

Harry pulls back again, but not all the way. He pauses for a second that you flick your eyes up to him. The expression on his face is a dangerous smirk that widens to a devilish smile.

You don't have time to process what's happening as Harry suddenly snaps his hips forward—beginning a speedy pace. You gasp a moan, holding his thighs, tightly.

"Good fucking girl. Always—god—always taking me so well," Harry praises as he watches himself pump into your mouth. Your eyes suddenly swell with tears. You fight the gag that boils up every time he hits the back of your throat. But that doesn't last long as you choke on a deeper thrust.

Harry drags out a raspy moan, twitching inside of you. This isn't the first time you've taken him like this, but it always feels as if. You're always caught off guard by his size as it stretches your mouth sore. Him simply sliding slowly down your throat has you choking, so he usually needs to prepare you for his throat-fucking pace.

You whimper from the man hovering over you. His eyes are lidded and drunk-like as he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip. He traces his focus on your facial features with a lazy smile. He moans incoherent words under his breath, unable to form a sentence.

Harry's hips don't slow down, snapping forward to a high tempo beat. The noises of his cock hitting your throat so recklessly is his favorite sound. Partnered with your muffle whine for more.

"Fuck, Y/N. You don't even know you good you feel around me," Harry lets the words wander out his mouth without thought. "Taking me like no one else can. Claiming my cock, aren't you?" The question is rhetorical because with the grip he has on your hair, you aren't able to properly move your head to nod.

You feel Harry twitch again inside your mouth. And the way he chokes out a gasp, you can tell he's close. Drool dribbles down your chin, but the thick white coat of it reveals that it's accompanied by Harry's come.

"Milking me dry, baby. Can't save any for your cunt, huh? Gotta be greedy and take it all. God, I got such a fucking greedy girl." Harry tilts his head to the side, giving you a degrading look that you moan around his cock. He smiles slowly at your response. "Yeah, you won't even deny it. Fuck. M'gonna come and give you what you want. Think you deserve it?"

With his pace making it hard for you to keep up, you answer by squeezing at his clenching thighs as they assist his thrusts.

Harry suddenly yanks you out of his mouth. You immediately gasp for air—the sting in the back of your throat feels sore and raw. Harry covers his cock with his hand, pumping it just has fast as his previous pace.

You whine at the sight, subconsciously letting your mouth open. You're desperate for his taste on your tongue. It sticks out, signaling his aim to be in your mouth.

"You better fucking swallow it all, Y/N. If you're my good girl then you'll take all of me, right?" Harry leans down to kiss the tip of your nose. You nod and wiggle your tongue to taunt him. He smirks and quickens his pace on his cock.

Harry is suddenly groaning a noise from the back of his throat—it's gravelly and monotone. He knocks his head back for a second as his legs lock up. You shift your mouth slightly to line yourself with his cock, ready for him.

Ropes of come shoot out Harry's tip, mainly aiming in your mouth, while some lands on your chin and cheeks. Your tongue swipes all of it back in your mouth, though. Harry is able to loll his head down to watch weakly as you collect every drop of him.

"You're perfect, baby. So fucking good to me," He wavers, before pressing a hard kiss to your lips. You moan within it, grabbing at his neck to keep him close. Harry chuckles from your desperation. "I got you, baby."

You're lifted from the ground and in Harry's arms. Your dress rides up higher as your legs wrap around him.

"Gonna let me take care of you now? I can have you however I want?" Harry whispers against your lips. You giggle with a nod.

"However you want."

You are laid out on your bed, placed there by Harry. He stands at the edge, examining every inch of your body in silence. You wait cautiously, slightly squirming from his intense stare.

Your small dress was peeled off you, only the lace pieces of your undergarment hugging you. Harry, on the other hand, is completely naked. As soon as he got you undressed, his limp cock instantly grew again.

Harry finally reaches for you, circling your legs to hold the underside of your knees. The hot touch of his hands forces you to gasp, but you quickly roll your lips inwards to shush yourself. Harry smirks, loving how a simple touch to your skin triggers you.

"For hours—hours—I had to hold back from dropping in front of you and eating that fucking cunt in front of everyone." You whine from his words. "I wanted to kiss all up your body, bite your skin to make marks for everyone to see," Harry speaks softly, leaning down to meet your knee. His plush lips press light kisses that lead to your thighs. He drops to the ground and lets the underside of your knees rest on his shoulders.

His head continuously turns to give equal attention to each thigh. You shiver from the sensitivity, the more he moves to the inside. His eyes flick up to you as his tongue sticks out and swirls a pattern. You watch in a trance. His eyes are soft and filled with adoration for you.

You smile gently and reach for his hair to twirl your finger around. Harry finds himself sucking on your thighs. "I remember watching Andrew between your legs, just like this," Harry speaks against your skin. His teeth swiftly bite down, causing you to gasp. "He was kissing your soft thighs, getting a whiff of your dripping cunt."

You suddenly frown, sitting up on your elbows to get a better look at Harry. "What?" You say.

"Mhm, he kissed down your thigh like this—" He presses harder kisses to your thighs, moving his head closer to your center. "Your head threw back as his lips pressed to your covered cunt. He said you smelled so good, and you moaned just from that."

Your eyes look sad and confused when Harry glances up at you. "No," You whisper. "I was acting."

"And he hooked a finger around your panties—red because he told you it was his favorite color," Harry continues. The ones you're wearing are white—Harry's favorite set. And they can't hide the obvious wet spot. "You were being a good girl and lifted your ass to help him slide them off. Like you were so desperate to have him on you with no barrier." Harry cocks a brow up when you don't move.

Your expression is hurt as you stare at your boyfriend. "Why are you saying that?" Harry smiles and rests his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

"I'm going to do exactly what he did to you. But I want you screaming louder. I want you whimpering and whining because you can't take it anymore but you still greedily want more. I want you squirming from the pleasure, and trying to shut your legs closed. I don't want the memory of you wanting him, I only want to see you want me."

You pause dumbfounded. Harry acts as if he didn't just say that and juts his teeth out, reaching for your panties. He grips the lace right over your clit. Your eyes are still widened as you lift your hips to assist him. His dimples give away his smirk.

Harry holds your legs up while he peels your panties away. His height stretches when he rises up straight. He spits your panties off to the side, before leaning down to rest his hands next to your breasts. Your legs are bent with your feet plant weakly on the bed. With your cunt on display and Harry's eyes staring unabashedly at it, your legs wobble from the intensity surrounding the room.

"So, you remember what happened next?" Harry speaks up, hovering over your face. You do.

"Yes," you answer quietly. Harry smirks, closing the distance between your faces so his breath is grazing your skin.

"Tell me then, babygirl," He says.

You shake your head, sadly, "But I don't want to be them. I want to be us." Harry's eyes soften for a moment. He sees the way your eyes turn glossy. He can't help but capture your lips. You gladly accept the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Move back," Harry speaks before grabbing your lips again. You push up the bed, and he crawls over you. When you feel the pillows, you stop—your legs now able to stretch out straight.

Harry starts to lower himself, letting his weight top you. He stares down at your face cautiously. Your throat forces out a whine from the warm, heavy body of your boyfriend weighing on you. This is one of your favorite positions because you love to feel Harry press down on you. It makes you feel safe as you're surrounded by only him.

"I don't want to be Anna and Maddy either, baby," Harry starts to speak. "I want to be just us too."

"So, why are you—"

"He needs to know that it's not Anna and Maddy. It's only us. It'll always be us," Harry interrupts you with a pained look. You hold Harry's jaw, finding his eyes filled with unwanted thoughts.

You press a kiss to his nose. "Who? Who needs to know?" You ask. Harry only stares at you, and that's all you need to understand. A sinister smirk peeks on your lips. "Oh. I see."

Harry replicates your face, glad you're on the same page. "Now, baby, do you remember what happened next?"

You bite your lip, pretending to look deep in thought. Harry chuckles, quickly nibbling on your neck, before looking at you again.

"I think he lifted my legs to my chest," You say. Harry nods and moves from on top of you. He sits on his knees—not missing the opportunity to quickly flick at your nipple. You look up at his glistening chest, scattered with your favorite tattoos. His chest heaves as he picks up your legs and pushes at them.

"He made you hold them, huh?" Harry asks when your hands find the back of your thighs to press to your breasts. You nod at his question, and tilt your head at his disapproved tut. "I'd never make my baby do the work. All she has to do is lay there and take it."

Your hands are smacked away with a surprised gasp. Harry grabs your shins, keeping your bent legs against your chest. From the force, your ass slightly lifts off the bed, and now your cunt is in the perfect spot for him. He smiles down at it, impulsively licking his lips.

"I remember you trying to keep quiet," Harry speaks while lowering himself to a comfortable position. He grazes his lips over the skin beside your cunt. "But with me, Y/N, I want to hear everything."

You nod rapidly with a whine from his tone. It's demanding but pleading, as if he needs to hear you.

Harry rims your cunt with his warm tongue. He licks at the sticky juices that also ended up in your panties. Your neck strains as you try to watch, but you already feel your limbs growing weak.

In a quick move, Harry plunges his tongue inside your cunt, mimicking the curl of his finger to reach a specific spot. You let out a surprised scream, gasping and grasping at the sheets. Harry smiles against you, getting exactly what he needs.

He keeps you open and at his mercy as he attacks your cunt with his tongue. His thumb assists by flicking and circling your clit. He switches between being gentle to play with your sensitivity to suddenly pinching your clit and yanking a pained but pleasurable moan out of you.

His tongue swirls the letters of your name—a familiar motion. You let out a scattered hum, but the dark look Harry flicks up at you changes your previous reaction. "Fuck Harry!" You yelp, before digging your teeth into your lip. "Yes! Please." Harry's cock twitches under him from the growl lingering in your voice.

Cold rings start to knead your ass, causing you to flinch. Your body is on fire that his hands on you sound a sizzle. "Always taste so good, baby. Never can get enough of you." Harry's lips graze your cunt as he speaks before plunging his tongue back in you like a starved man.

Your head is digging back into the pillow—back arched at the perfect angle for Harry. "More! Please, more, Harry," You beg, wanting him deeper and faster while also pushing his head away because it's too much.

Harry will always be proud to admit the power you have over him. You have him wrapped around your little finger. Just from your plead, his cock is already thick and throbbing. He runts against the sheets for slight relief.

Your voice cracks as you release another extended moan. It rings around the room. Harry gets sloppy from the sound. He moves to suck on your clit, knowing how to push you over the edge. His fingers replace his tongue and pump in your cunt. He searches for a certain spot before curling them, and you gasp loudly from it.

"Let him know, Y/N," Harry dares you, pressing wet kisses around your clit. You take him up on that dare and yelp out his name, Harry's groan against your clit vibrates through your whole body.

"I'm gonna come, Harry. Fuck!" You cry, holding the back of his head. With Harry's fingers distracted by your cunt and playing with your ass, nothing keeps your legs open, so they instantly close around his head. Harry thinks to push them apart, but your scent is trapped in the inclosed space.

It's not so bad in there.

Harry quickens his flicking tongue on your clit and plunges another thick finger in your cunt. Your feet find the bed, and you're lifting off the bed, chasing Harry's mouth.

He laughs and kisses your clit. "I got you, baby." You feel your release creeping on you. And Harry knows it too because he focuses on your clit, nibbling on the sensitive nub.

"Harry!" You get out before you're coming. The noises you scream are pornographic, worst than the ones you practiced with your intimacy coordinator for the movie. Harry drags his warm tongue along your clit to guide you through it.

You're panting and mumbling curses under your breath. Harry finds your legs to push back down on the bed. He follows the trail of come on the inside of your thigh to lick up.

You flinch at his delicate touch. Your throat is completely dry as you breathe out harshly.

Harry is suddenly hovering over you with a smug smirk. You don't have the energy to comment on it as you catch your breath.

"Hi, baby," He chuckles, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth. You hum tiredly. "I'm gonna take your bra off, okay?" You nod slowly and arch your back to help him.

Harry slips the undergarment off of you and tosses it away. You're now completely naked and shining under the dim light in the room. Harry smiles down at you proudly, crawling down your body.

He finds a nipple to latch onto and sucks softly. You hold the back of his head, tangling your hand in his curls. He kneads your other breasts, before switching to give it a wet suck.

When Harry looks up as sees you coming back to him, he smiles softly. You tug on his hair, asking for his lips, which he gladly gives you.

For a while, you're stuck in a passionate, hot and sloppy, make-out session, bodies warm against each other. Harry's cock ruts against your cunt, causing you both to jump and gasp.

"I don't think he's heard us enough," You suddenly whisper in the air. Harry looks down at you, and a wide smirk forms on his lips.

"Yeah? You don't think so?"

You shake your head shyly. "I think we should keep going."

"Me too, baby," Harry chuckles, sitting up on his knees. "Now, if I'm remembering correctly, I think Maddy took Anna like this—" Harry is gentle with flipping you around til you're on your stomach. You turn your head so your cheek is in the pillow. "What a fucking sight." Harry moans softly and he doesn't waste another second kneading your ass.

He leans down to kiss both cheeks, sucking for a short second. To your surprise, you feel your cheeks being spread apart and Harry's hot tongue pressing against your hole. You try to clench closed, but his strength overpowers yours, so you just have to take it.

"Harry," You gasp. Harry chuckles against your cheeks, before stopping and rising. Your knees push into the bed for leverage. You lift up on your hands and arch your back—actually assisting him. Harry holds his cock with one hand, continuing to knead your ass with the other.

"Arch a little more, baby," Harry says softly, and you do as told. Your cunt lips spread, causing your boyfriend to groan and slip a finger inside you.

You don't expect it, so you squeeze around him in a flinch.

"You're so tight. Think you can take me this cock?" Harry smirks, and you look over your shoulder at him.

"Easily," You tease with a little wiggle to your ass. "It's all mine."

Harry sighs. "Yes, it is," he says more himself with a gentle smile. That's all he ever needs to hear. He pumps himself a little faster, hardening himself completely. He's thick and veiny as his tip nudges your entrance.

Harry has a tight lip smirk on his face as he thrusts inside you—faster than you expected. Your jaw drops agape as you let out a loud yelp, followed by, "Fuck, Harry!" He slaps at your ass for your language.

His fingers dig into your hips as he shifts them to match his pace. Skin smacking against each other loudly, but not reaching the level of your moans. You want to bit into your arm, thinking you're too loud, but Harry surprises you when his hand comes around to slap at your clit.

"Not loud enough," he scolds. "Guess I'm not fucking you good enough, huh?" He chuckles—it's dark that it makes you shiver. You shake your head, disagreeing with him. "No? Then why can't he hear you?"

You fall to your elbows as your arms grow limp. Harry lets go of one of your hips to grab at your hair and keep your head up. The sudden yank to your roots makes you yelp. "F-f-fu-fuck—" you slur out, "you're so—god—"

"I'm so what, babygirl?" Harry asks teasingly, planting a foot on the bed to change his thrusting angle. His cock is in heaven, stuck inside your warm, silky walls. The grumble that emits in his chest bursts to a raspy moan out his mouth.

You whine, reaching a hand back for him. Harry untangles his hand in your hair to let you grab at his arm. His thick, sweaty bicep clenches when you dig your nails into it.

"So deep," You say in a whisper, almost losing your voice. Harry's thrust gain a force that jolts you forward. The bed hits the wall continuously—creaking to the same beat as your moans. "My stomach—" you cry.

Harry curses under his breath, his cock twitching. "Fuck, baby. You feel me deep in your stomach?" You nod against the pillow. Tears rim in your eyes as he bullets into your cunt. The pain is pleasure.

Harry's palm pushes into your lower abdomen, and he feels his cock against his hand. He gasps, fingers curling into you. "Oh, FUCK!"

Your knees give out, dropping both of you on the bed. Harry's heavy weight and his cock still stuck in your stomach, causes you to whine.

"I'm so close," You cry out a whisper. "Don't stop, please, Harry." Your clit, now against the mattress, throbs from being stimulated. You follow Harry's movements and hump into the bed, playing with yourself. He realizes what you're doing and groans from it.

"Fucking into the bed, babygirl?" You nod slowly.

"It feels so good. You feel so—oh my god."

Harry continues to push his cock in you, slower than before because he's starting to feel weak himself.

With him close, his lips find your ear to kiss. "I'm gonna come so fucking hard in you, baby. Can't get enough of this cunt. It's so good—" Harry hums, before groaning at you squeezing around him.

His hands find the back of yours and curls his fingers around you, pushing both of your hands under the pillows. Your head is facing the side, crying under him.

"I want it so bad. Please, please, please—" You continue to beg for him, and Harry could come just from that. But he always makes sure you get there first. He loves when you clench so hard around him and warm his cock with your come.

Harry presses long kisses to your ear, allowing you to listen to his sweet groans. His hips push into your ass, short but bullet thrusts, knowing your body and how this gets you off faster.

He lets go of your hands to travel his under your body and to your breasts. They're pushed into the bed, so he digs for them. His big hands grope both, before flicking at your nipples.

"I love you so much, Y/N," Harry says to you. "Please give it to me. Come just for me, baby. Squeeze this fucking cunt around me. Yes! Just like that—" You're clenching so hard, feeling your release exploding inside you.

Harry continues a slow thrust while you're coming. He moves his lips to the corner of your mouth as you scream out his name. His weight pushing you into the bed squeezes the sounds out of you.

You're gasping and crying when you come down. "I can't—too much," You whisper from the sensitivity. You try to escape his cock as it knocks against your sweet spot.

"I know, babygirl. I know. Just take it, okay? Be good for me," Harry kisses every spot on your face. "Already being such a good girl. Just a little more. I know it's so much, huh?" You nod, whimpering again. "But you're doing so fucking good. I'm gonna give you all of my come, okay? I'm almost there."

You still whine and try to squeeze his cock out of you. Harry plays with your nipples to distract you.

"Pretty breasts, just fit so perfectly in my hands." He gasps at your walls tightening around his cock. "And this cunt. Just so fucking perfect. Don't wanna be in any other cunt but this one. This cunt is only for this cock. Right, baby?"

You sniffle and answer verbally. "Yes, just for you, H. I—please."

"Then let him know that. Ask for my come. Tell him you only want this cock fucking you like this." Harry gets on his knees but keeps his chest against your back to stay close. "Go on, beg for this come."

Your hands reach behind you to Harry's ass as they clench when he thrusts in you. You try to clear your throat as it's hoarse. "H, please come in me. I need your come so bad!" You yell over the bed banging against the wall. "Fuck! I love your cock, baby. Just this one. Please, fill me up. I want it!"

Harry groans with his lips against your cheek. With one final thrust, Harry is spurting thick ropes inside of you. You're clenching as tight as you can to milk him.

He's a moaning mess against you. He's breathing heavily, and you softly squeeze his ass to help him through his high.

"Make sure you take it all, baby," Harry says as he pushes his cock as deep as he can. "Mmm, never wanna leave. Gonna live in your cunt forever." You giggle, as he chuckles from the sound of you, before sighing.

Harry lays on top of you for a little while longer, whispering sweet nothings and attacking you with kisses, before he captures your lips.

You're sensitive and sore everywhere. Harry softly kneads your body to comfort you through it. He waits until your breathing goes back to normal to relax. Another kiss to your lips as a thank you for allowing him to take care of some much needed release.

"So," you start as Harry sits up on his knees and flips you on your back. He sets back on you, but holds some of his weight by leaning on his elbows. "Are you done being so possessive?" You cock up a playful brow.

Harry rolls his eyes. "Never." Then a wicked smile finds his lips. "Actually, I don't think I'm done."

"What?" You basically gasp when Harry moves down your body. Your legs clench, but Harry is quicker to grab them. "Har—" But you can't finish as you're moaning and arching off the bed once again.

Two more quick orgasms are pulsing out of your cunt as Harry tongues at your cunt and flicks at your sensitive clit. You have to physically push his face away and clench your legs together to stop him.

Your voice is completely gone by the time Harry helps you to the bathroom and gets you ready for bed. When you're both under the covers, Harry enters a sort of sub space, wanting to be held and comforted.

You both lay facing each other—Harry's head is against your breasts that he suckles on, looking up at you with sweet, doe eyes. Your fingers tangle in his hair, which he hums appreciatively at.

"Why were you so jealous today?" You ask him. He only shrugs, pushing further into your breasts, if that was even possible.

"I'm sorry," he answers instead.

"Don't be," You find his jaw to tilt his head up at you. You smile softly, before kissing each of his eyes. "I know it's not easy to share me. Or watch me act in a movie like that. But I would assume it's easy to remember that, at the end of the day, I'll always come back to you."

Harry suddenly feels ashamed that he even thought about you wanting Andrew over him.

"Hey," You get his attention. He starts to apologize, but you shut him up with a kiss. "I want you, Harry Styles. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day after that."

The smile that forms on his face assures you that he understands. "And I want you, Y/N L/N. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, and every day after that."

You suddenly frown. "Uh, you fucking better or I'll be beating some bitch's ass for making you think otherwise."

Harry laughs loudly. His nose shrivels from how hard he does. "And I thought my jealously was bad."

"I deal with woman wanting you every single day, just because you exist. My jealousy is ten times worse than yours." Harry sighs, looking at you longly.

"I guess I should be comforting you every day."

You shake your head. "You do without even noticing. I know you love me."

"More than you will ever know, baby."

You two share a long, silent stare, filled with love that can't translate into words. So, instead, it turns into a kiss that sends you both to sleep.

You're still knocked out when Harry wakes up with a glow to him. He's all smile as he stretches and yawns. He looks over at you, now the little spoon—somehow turning into that position when you both slept.

Harry slips away from you, not without kissing up your neck and jaw. You hum in your sleep with a lazy smile. Harry chuckles, kissing the corner of your mouth, before getting out of bed.

He quickly throws on appropriate lounge clothes to leave the room with. He heads downstairs to the breakfast buffet, hoping to find something you'll enjoy. Sometimes you are picky when it comes to breakfast.

When arriving, he sees minimal people there. He walks inside and grabs two plates.

He hums in thought, deciding what to put on your plate. While doing so, he notices another person also scooping up food from the trays.

Andrew Garfield.

But after your conversation last night, Harry doesn't feel that boiling pit of anger in his stomach when he looks at him. He simply shrugs him off and starts making your plate.

Andrew feels another presence and looks over at Harry. The men meet eyes—but the usual tension isn't there.

Andrew suddenly frowns, whipping his head away and continuing to fixate his plate.

"You heard?" Harry speaks up.

Andrew frowns and nods once. “Yeah, I heard.”

Harry smirks, turning away to work on your breakfast. “Good," he says more to himself.

well.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles x yn #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles oneshot #harry styles smut

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smittenskitten · 2 years

Photo

UNDER THE QUEEN'S UMBRELLA (2022)

#under the queen's umbrella #kdramaedit #kim hye soo #asiandramaedit #kdrama #moon sang min #bae in hyuk #yoon sang hyeon #yoo sun ho #park ha jun #queensumbrellaedit #prangon gifs #finally some good food

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loaksky · 8 months

Note

tw : ptsd

hi I love love love your work, may I make a request: abby comforting reader with ptsd after a nightmare/episode 🧸 only if you’re comfy with that of course angel!!

— 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒆 | 𝒂. 𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏

roommate!abby x fem roommate!reader, fluff / mild angst, wc: 2.3k

synopsis: oftentimes when you’re lost in the darkness, abby’s your light.

content warnings: language, sprinkled mentions trauma and implied ptsd ! talks of death, brief mentions of canon-compliant violence. this is set in the tlou2 universe, but is canon-divergent (did i use that term right lmaooo ??), abby & reader get off to a rocky start, but they’re so fucking cute & i wanna write more of them ????

author’s note: sugar !! you don’t even know how excited i was to see you in my inbox bae ! ilysm thank you so much for requesting ! hope i did this justice <3 ALSO this is my first time writing in the tlou universe ?? usually i write modern!aus so i'm like pissing myself lowkey ansjkdnfjasf

main masterlist | tlou masterlist

YOUR PRESENCE ON BASE SENDS a ripple of whispers from wall to wall. The circumstances pertaining to your arrival hadn’t been uncommon, but they were brutal, had people eyeing you with equal parts sympathy and disdain.

Truthfully, you don’t remember much of it, had blacked out after the first death, but the murmurs speculate that your entire family had been ambushed, turned and then picked off in a raid.

You don’t know how true that is.

Abby doesn’t really pay you much mind at first, isn’t all that thrilled when she finds out that you’re taking the spare side of the spacious room she occupies, but she keeps her mouth shut when she sees how fragile you are.

And it’s not like she sees you much, not even in the evenings when most people are turning in for the night. Your bed’s always made, your side of the room in pristine condition. The only indication that you lodge with Abby is the beat up backpack that hangs on the hook by your desk.

On occasion she’ll wake up in the wee hours of the night to find you tucked under the blankets, still as a statue, but come morning, you’re gone.

For a while, she appreciates the distance, but when she sees you only a handful of times in the nearly two months you’ve sought refuge at the stadium, she begins to grow curious.

First it starts as asking passive questions to those patrolling, then she starts briefly combing any areas she enters, but you’re like a fleeting wisp of smoke, gone with a gust of wind.

She happens upon you by chance one night, right as the sun is setting. She’s on her way to the weight room when she notices you. The library is relatively quiet around this time, everyone usually in the dining hall or working on their evening duties.

But there you are, going through a carton of what looks like newly arrived books from the most recent raid.

Abby acts against her own better judgment, door whooshing as she presses her weight against the pushbar.

You’re looking up from your sorting, eyebags still prominent, but the color has returned to your face and you look like you’ve been taking care of yourself.

“This where you disappear to everyday?” Abby asks, pulling an early 2000’s almanac from the shelf to distract herself from the sear of you gaze.

She glances back at you when you don’t respond, finds that you’ve returned to shuffling through the box instead of humoring her question.

She clears her throat, takes another step closer, and you’re looking up at her again.

“Any good titles?” she tries. “I’m kinda in a slump right now, think I—”

“You don’t have to pity me,” you say flatly, voice a lot different than Abby’d expected.

She’s floored, regardless. Doesn’t know what would compel you to say such a thing when she’s barely spoken a dozen words to you since your arrival.

“I’m not following,” Abby admits.

You’re small in comparison, but the look you level her with is mighty, makes her cheeks bloom red because a woman’s never looked at her in such a way. She feels like she’s in trouble, but maybe she likes it.

“I hear what you all say about me,” you say firmly. “That I’m probably batshit crazy, that the patrolling team should’ve just left me to die with the rest of my family, that I’m useless.”

Abby flinches, brows drawing together and lips parting incredulously.

You don’t expect her reaction.

“I’m lost?” she says in confusion, then adds, tone stony, “who’s been saying that shit?”

Frankly, you don’t really look convinced, but your shoulders are relaxing a fraction. Perhaps you won’t admit it, but Abby’s quiet outrage provides some semblance of comfort.

You shrug.

“Doesn’t matter,” you say quietly. “But you don’t have to go out of your way to be nice to me. I’m fine on my own.”

And Abby doesn’t know whose neck she has to wring, or how many for that matter, but despite initially being lukewarm towards you, she wants to squash every single person who’s made you feel like you can’t find a place among them.

“That’s bullshit,” she replies frankly, and you’re looking at her sharply. “People are bored, like to run their mouths. There’s a place here for everyone, you included.”

Such simple words shouldn’t make you feel warm, but you’re pausing, frozen like a hurt pup experiencing affection for the first time. You’re glancing up at her, lips pressed in a thin line.

Abby’s fidgeting because fuck, did she overstep a boundary with this interaction? Should she have left you alone instead? She wasn’t necessarily mad at the distance between you two, but the establishment of having a roommate makes her feel like she’s been living with a ghost recently.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

Abby’s shoulders deflate in relief, chest hitching as she takes in a shaky sigh.

“Have you...have you had dinner yet?”

Abby learns that regardless of breaking the ice, you’re still reserved. It’s quiet breaths of laughter when she cracks a joke, learning how to settle for the silence when the two of you are spending prolonged periods of time together (which is a lot more frequent that Abby had expected), and being the buffer between you and most things you find uncertainty with.

Not only that, but you’re a nocturnal creature of habit that she usually finds cooped up in the library.

It’s half past one in the morning some weeks later when she wakes up and groggily squints over the railing that divides the room to find that your bed is empty.

She’s pulling on a hoodie, slipping on a pair of sneakers and brushing her hair from her face as she slinks out into the hallway. And, of course, you’re in the first place she thinks to look, curled up against the cushions of an oversized chair with your eyes drooping over a children’s picture book.

She enters almost silently, only catching your attention when she’s a few paces away.

“Hey, A–” A yawn pulls from your chest. “Hey, Abby.”

She smiles softly.

“Hey, sleepyhead.”

She leans against the armrest of the chair, peers down at you as you flip lazily through the pages before she’s pulling the book from your grasp.

You let out a sound of disapproval.

“M’not done,” you tell her.

“You look like you’re about to knock out,” Abby observes. “Why don’t we get you to bed.”

You yawn again, then sigh deeply.

“I won’t be able to fall asleep anyways,” you admit quietly.

Abby shifts and you look up at her. She notices the glimmer of vulnerability that glosses over your sleepy eyes.

“Is it because...” she trails off, swallows down the rest of her question because she doesn’t want to seem insensitive, but you seem to get the gist anyways.

“Among other things,” you admit.

“Oh,” Abby whispers. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug tiredly.

“Can’t be helped, really.”

And Abby’s learned to really like you these past few weeks, has felt for you and your journey here. It makes something tug hard at her heartstrings, especially when she sees little slivers of peace dawn you for a few moments at a time, only to be weighed down by the gravity of it all.

“Why don’t we go back and you can at least lay down?” she asks softly. “You need to rest.”

And you want to argue, tell her that it really is no use, especially when the darkness can be one of your sensitive triggers. But the look that Abby is giving you is pleading, like she can’t bear the thought of another one of your sleepless nights, so you nod carefully and let her guide you out of the seat.

“I know it’s touchy,” she says after a few silent moments down the hall. “But, you can...you can talk to me if you ever, y’know, need to get anything off your chest.”

You don’t mean to, you’re just caught up in the moment and Abby has a way of making you feel safe, but you’re grabbing gently at her fingertips as the two of you walk down the corridor.

“Thanks, Abby,” you swallow.

If Abby looks hard enough out the window, she can see the beginnings of the sun as it starts its ascent. She’d spent the latter half of the late evening murmuring to you in the dark, hoping that maybe the sound of her voice would lull you to sleep.

And it does, miraculously, she thinks to herself, when she hears the light puff of your steady breathing. She stays still for moments that bleed into several minutes, monitoring the tandem of your breaths. She doesn’t even realize how much time has passed until the sky begins to ooze from midnight to burnt swathes of orange.

She hadn’t slept a wink, too busy wanting to make sure that you’re snoozing well enough in the short period of time since you’d laid your head down. So she decides to get dressed in the dark, is in the middle of sliding her belt through the loops when she hears it.

It’s most imperceptible, the murmur that slips from your lips, but Abby’s been hyperaware recently. She thinks that maybe she’d been a little too loud, jeans rustling a little too hard, belt buckle clanging too much. But even as she stills in the dark, she hears the whimper that echos against the exposed rafters.

“Please...” Abby freezes, lump lodged deep in her throat.

Your body jerks, mattress squeaking under the sudden movement as your sheets rustle once, then twice.

“No.” Your breath catches so hard in your chest, Abby’s worried you won’t take another.

She’s crossing the room quickly, pawing around your nearby desk for the small lamp. The dim bulb casts a yellow glow over the surroundings and Abby finds you damp with a sheen of sweat.

“No, no, don’t—”

When her hands find you, you’re shooting up, shoving her away with so much force, she’s knocked to her ass. Before she even blinks, you’re straddling her, dagger she hadn’t even known you had on you, drawn.

“Hey,” she whispers shakily. “It’s me.”

Your eyes are wild, cheeks streaked with tears as you take in your surroundings. You touch base with your senses to ground you; the sound of your ragged breathing, the smell of Abby’s pine-scented soap, the taste of blood on your tongue, the feel of Abby’s shirt bunched in your fist, and the sight of her rigid frame clearing from the fog.

“Fuck,” you choke. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You’re dropping the dagger, fist loosening as you scramble to climb off of her. But her fingers are closing around your wrist to stop you, mooring you to place.

“It’s okay,” she says breathlessly. “It’s fine. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

Her hands slowly come up to brush over the sides of your arms comfortingly, and when you don’t flinch away, she’s reaching up to smooth the hair from your face.

The softness of her touch makes you melt, makes you wrap your arms around her shoulders and fall into her as her arms wind around your waist.

“I’m here,” she assures you quietly. “You’re safe.”

And when she feels your body shake against hers, her chest is squeezing, feels all those tamped down emotions from a loss that feels like such a distant memory resurface with every quiet sob that wracks your body.

She feels like she’d processed her grief well enough over the past few years after losing her dad, was buoyed in a consistent state of anger that manifested in a deep-seated need for vengeance as of late. But this makes her sad. Makes her want to take away everything that’s ever made you feel hurt in the world.

She’s squeezing you so tight, nose nestling into your hair as she rocks you gently.

Abby still doesn’t know how much time passes, but your heaving breaths turn into spaced hiccups as you sink further into her hold. She doesn’t realize that the exhaustion has crept over you until one of your hiccups fades to a sigh, until she’s pulling away to see that your cheek is pressed against her shoulder and your wet lashes brush the apples of your cheeks.

For once, it seems like one of those slivers of peace has found you in a moment of sleep and Abby wants to preserve it.

She’s shifting your weight, arms banding tight around your waist so that she can slowly stand. And when you stir, she cringes in defeat. But your breath puffs against the column of her throat, and while your proximity makes her cheeks burn, she can only focus on settling you back into bed.

“Abby,” you whisper groggily, as she sits on the edge of your bed to kick her shoes off. “Don’t leave, please.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she assures you softly, leaning back against your pillows and taking you with her. “I’ll be right here.”

True to her word, when you wake up, she is, one arm propped underneath her head, the other splayed between your shoulder blades.

The sun sits high in the sky, analog clock reading well into the morning and nearing the afternoon.

“Oh, fuck!” You’re leaning up abruptly, jostling Abby from her slumber and she’s gazing up at you with bleary eyes.

“Shit, are you okay?” Abby asks, voice thick with sleep.

“They’re probably looking for you,” you say frantically. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I—”

The hand on your back hasn’t left yet, rubbing slow circles there, the other mapping across your shoulders to pull you into her chest.

“S’okay,” she reassures you. “They won’t miss me for a day.”

“Abby—”

“Shhh,” she mutters. “M’sleeping.”

And you want to cry. Equal parts because of embarrassment and equal parts because Abby’s showed you the most kindness you can remember anyone ever showing you and it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Abby?”

“Yes, ________?” she grumbles.

“Thank you.”

She squeezes you tighter.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fic #abby the last of us #abby anderson #abby tlou

428 notes · View notes

myouicieloz · 5 months

Note

Irene and you have been together for the past couple months, but have only gone as far as making out. But, this time is different and you tell her that you’re ready to go all the way, which leads to your first time together.(smut)

Show me how

Bae Joohyun x reader

Warnings: smut, nsfw

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: sorry for the wait!!! i wanted this to be sweet and cozy, almost like a hug from someone dear yk? i hope it is to your liking <3

Dating Irene was like a summer breeze: it was easy, fresh, and cozy, just like feeling the sun on your skin, after spending too much time locked up at home. Unlike your past relationships, you felt completely comfortable talking to her about anything. You were always on the same page, and you couldn’t help but fall in love with her more and more each day as you observed her kind, caring and cheerful nature.

Even though you have dated people before, you’ve never gone too far beyond just a few kisses or touches, simply too insecure and scared to be that exposed in front of others. Besides, you’d never actually trusted any of your past partners, either. They were clearly only using you for your body and your fame— trying to prove a point by attempting to ruin the shy, reserved girl from the group. As much as you knew that was how most of them saw you: merely a prize, waiting to be conquered, you couldn’t help but to feel used and lost, wondering if the problem wasn’t, in fact, yourself.

Which was the reason you were so insecure about evolving things with Joohyun, ever since you’ve started dating.

Truth be told, most of your hesitancy came as a way of protecting yourself. Being thrown into the industry by your parents so young— first as a child model, then as a trainee, and even now, as a senior idol— has pushed a lingering feeling of being constantly displayed to others on your skin, since that’s how you’ve always felt: exposed to tabloids and cameras in every way dimmed possible, from such a young age. Your whole life, ever since childhood, has always been rushed. Not once did you remember not being pushed to do things or act more mature than your age. In response to that, building up rough boundaries and ensuring your own peace and quietude were the first things you did, as soon as you managed to obtain full control of your life and your actions. You so desperately needed it; you’d accept nothing to be rushed, at least not anymore.

Which was why Irene and you were so perfectly matched. You felt it from the first time you were introduced to each other, through Joy.

You’d been talking nonchalantly in the girl’s parents’ cafe when Irene barged in, making you immediately drawn to her— as were everyone else at the establishment. She simply had such an angelical aura: like an untouched piece of marble, beautiful to look at, and too exquisite to touch.

“I think you’d get along well. You both seem like you need some company, you know.” Joy’s words made you both laugh awkwardly, at the time. Yet, she was right, in the end. Both of you had been alone for many years, longing for something that just seemed impossible to find in the current days. At least, not with such a technological world and people’s routine being so energetic, frantic, and intense.

After your first encounter, mediated by Sooyoung, you started seeing each other frequently. You enjoyed talking about art, and she’d even agreed to join you in your latest hobby: ceramics. The two of you spent hours together, getting messy with clay, laughing, going on coffee dates and walks in parks that were full of green— your favorite color, she quickly learned. It was easy to be in Irene’s presence, and, for you, it was even easier to fall in love with her.

You shared sweet kisses by moonlight, stayed up until late watching the stars, and for the first time in so long, life felt right to you; like it wasn’t made of demands or expectations that left a bitter feeling in your guts.

For once, you felt as bright and happy as a butterfly, in a garden full of flowers. With Irene, life had a meaning, a purpose.

She’s also been nothing but respectful to you in all those months you’ve been dating, too. Not even once had she pressed you about sex, always making sure you were comfortable with everything and ensuring you two talked out your issues and boundaries. You got to know each other deeply before your bodies interlocked, and that was something you’ve never had with your previous relationships. You loved Joohyun for who she was: the kind, attentive, caring leader and friend with so many deep interests and hobbies. You could spend the rest of your days with her and still feel like there were so many parts of her to unravel. She was indeed pure art, an untouched angel.

And, while it had been crucial for you to take things slow, you now realized you truly felt ready to take a further step into your relationship. She was patient, calm, and you felt ready. As you stare at Irene, chatting ever so sweetly with her bandmates, your chest fills with warmth, knowing much you absolutely adored being hers and how lucky you were to have her to yourself. You trusted your girlfriend more than anything in the world, and you desired her so, so much— in every way dimmed possible.

With that, couldn’t help but to gawk at her body as she walked towards the bar built in Yeri’s garden, the wooden structure put up to celebrate the maknae’s birthday. It was a simple and reserved celebration, yet your eyes were practically undressing your girlfriend right in the middle of the garden, for everyone to see.

You wanted her badly, like you’ve never wanted anything else in your life. And it’s not like you needed anything else, either. Not when you had her, making you feel so safe and secure. So right in a world full of wrongs.

Irene must’ve noticed the frown on your face— as you’ve always been pretty expressive— because she approached you quickly, placing her free hand on your waist in a delicate motion, “Hey, is everything ok?”

You take the drink she’s been holding in your hands and take a sip, nodding, “It’s all good. I’d like to go home, though. Do you think Yeri would be sad about it?”

You watch your girlfriend’s brows furrow, scanning your body in search of any signs of discomfort. When she doesn’t find any, her expression turns even more confused.

“I mean, we’ve just sang her happy birthday, and the girls wanted to—” You cut her by brushing her long, thick hair off her shoulders, fingers hovering her elbows as you bite your cheek to suppress a smile, once you feel her shiver. You’ve never touched her like this, specially in a semi-public space. Sure, you’ve fooled around many times, but you’ve never presented yourself with such assertiveness, such hunger.

Irene gulps. She feels her self-control escaping her body when your mouth brushes hers, mint breath caressing her skin. Yet, your sultry lips never found her mouth, and Joohyun finds herself opening her eyes— never even realizing when she closed them.

“Home, please?” You ask again, making a show of sipping on her drink. Irene’s gaze follows your mouth— all of her focus on the way you suck on the straw: so eagerly… much inappropriate for the scenery.

Safe to say, you find yourself humming happily in your girlfriend’s car not even five minutes later, as Irene eyes you suspiciously from the driver’s seat.

Despite nearly dying of curiosity, Irene doesn’t utter a word until you’ve arrived at your massive house, eyes still narrowed at your direction as if she expects you to regret your decision and tell her to go back to Yeri’s place immediately. She’s absolutely conscious of the anticipation working its way on her skin; it heats her to the core, and soon enough, it becomes impossible for her to stay put. Just the thought of having you, being the one who has the privilege to touch you, unravel you, make your eyes roll in pleasure… It’s enough for her panties to dampen and her hands close into fists, preventing herself from grabbing you by the hips and fucking you.

She licks her lips, staring at you through her lashes, still expecting. You’re the one in charge; with one word, your girlfriend will grant you all of your darkest, dirtiest wishes. The only thing you have to do is ask. Say it, even, and it’s yours.

You know it as much, as you interlock your fingers with hers and take your time going up the stairs, through the hallways as you kiss Irene without rush, ravishing her taste and her sweet, plumpy lips.

“I want you, Joohyun.” You breathe, guiding your girlfriend onto the mattress as you take your time untying your dress, letting it fall down your shoulders at its own pace. Even though you find yourself bare in front of her, you don’t feel threatened in the slightest. “Want you to make me feel good.”

If anything, you can only feel safe, respected, and loved. Feelings you’ve spent so long searching for. Far too long.

She extends her hand to you, holding you with such tenderness it nearly makes you melt on the spot. Soon, you find yourself under her, being smothered with kisses that trail down your chin to your neck and chest. However, Irene’s warm mouth stops just before touching you— to grant you plenty of time to process it all through, most certainly.

In fact, the words that brush past her lips reassure you of that, as she looks up, tone bearing a hint of hesitance. As much as she was nearly jointing from need, she wanted you to be completely clear of your wishes, “Are you really sure?”

You nod. “The most I’ve been in my entire life.” You murmur, scratching her scalp. Your touch is both reassuring and demanding, bringing her closer to your skin.

You let out a loud moan once her mouth is finally on you, and God was it worth the wait. Her saliva-soaked kisses leave a trail down your abdomen until every inch of skin is hers, and she’s reached your thighs. Her eyes are dark and don’t leave your piercing gaze, either, as she lowers herself until she’s reached your core.

You can tell she’s studying you: taking note of every touch, every kiss that has you gasping and stuttering. Irene takes delight in testing your preferences, attuning herself to what pleasures you the most. Ravishing herself with your body’s reactions, like the attentive woman she is.

“You are too beautiful, my love” She praises, grabbing both of your legs as she opens them, now presenting you completely exposed to her. You try to close them, involuntarily, but Irene shushes you, pecking the inner skin until you’ve relaxed enough for her to start teasing, once again. It’s only then that she bites, and even though her teeth barely sink in, it’s enough for you to jerk your body forward, a surprised gasp evading your lips.

It makes her laugh, adding another memory to her mind. “You’re sensitive, pretty girl.”

It’s the way she hums that provokes such sensations out of your body, you decide. The precise pressure her lithe fingers apply to your waist, the way she palms your breasts, twisting and pinching your nipples until they’re red enough to her liking— each time a little harder, to entice a louder moan. She’s playing with you as she wishes; as she’s always dreamed of, and it’s driving you absolutely crazy. You’re drenched, and Irene hasn’t even touched you properly.

She gathers your wetness with two of her fingers, going up and down on your slit until she’s gathered enough coat that she finds them sticky, noticeably wet. Only when she’s deemed enough, her fingers leave your sex and find their way onto her mouth, sucking without any rush. Your own throat starts to water as she does so, her eagerness dense enough to make you divert your gaze, feeling your face heatening up. You don’t keep your looks averted for long, since those same fingers gently tap your lips, gagging you as far as they can without making you choke.

“I’ll take care of you, Y/n.” She whispers, with her thumb caressing your mouth, encouraging you to continue. Which you do, with your eyes never leaving her hungry gaze.

Once she decides you’ve done your job of cleaning well enough, Irene’s attention returns to your pussy, as she lowers herself once again to your core.

“Do you want me here?” She blows on your cunt, smiling against your skin as she hears your loud whines. She does not pity you at all though, placing a languid, slurpy kiss on your pussy before moaning, too. This was heaven, for both of you, “Or perhaps here?”

You were sure you were mumbling too many incoherences, now. Not that you cared, anyway. You couldn’t, not with the way her nails were scratching your skin so gently, or her own wet, loud grunts that reverberated onto your pussy and made you see stars, not a single thought going through your mind. All you could think of was how desperately you needed to cum, how ardently you wish Irene’s mouth never leaves your skin.

You feel her hot breath fade from between your thighs. Thankfully, her fingers find their way to your dripping cunt before you even manage to whine, the mix of sensations making you press yourself onto her hand, so she’d reach further. You loved her so much. You needed more.

“S-so good.” You murmur, lost in pleasure. As soon as you close your eyes, dropping your head back to deepen your sensations, Irene places kisses onto your abdomen, now going all the way up until your lips interlock in a slow, deep kiss.

“Don’t close your eyes, my love.” She whispers, with her fingers still working onto building up on your pleasure. She squeezes one of your breasts as she says so, enticing another particularly loud moan from you—just as she intended to. Your sounds were the most heavenly melodies to her, and Irene simply couldn’t believe she’s spent a lifetime without hearing them. “Look at me when I fuck you. Fuck- you’re so tight, dearest.”

The low pitch in her voice makes you clench, humming as you keep your eyes on her.

Irene’s fingers are knuckles deep inside you, her rhythm intensifying as she nearly retreats them fully from your cunt to ram on you again. Your back arches, and she licks her lips, drinking from your reactions. It’s nearly unbearable, to have such focus on yourself; her sole attention, adoring and memorizing every inch of your body in her mind. Her gaze, so hungry yet compose, her light kisses on your burning skin, and her thumb brushing your clit without paying much attention to it—it all works you up to a hard, shaking orgasm. You can feel the waves of pleasure building up in your cunt, yet you can’t seem to muster the right words to tell Irene just that. It’s all glossy and unfocused, not even enough air to calm you down from the orgasm you can sense that is so soon.

“D-don’t stop, please. Oh my fucking— don’t stop, ’so close,” You manage to utter, gripping your girlfriend’s hair ever so desperately.

She does feel you, though. Before you even say it. Irene can tell, from the way your pussy clenches, tightening around her hold. “Come, princess. For me.”

The permission was all you needed to reach your high, and you nearly get overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you feel. It escalates to your whole body until you find yourself as a trembling mess, chest moving frantically to adjust your fast breathing. You let out an even louder whine as Irene’s mouth is on you again.

“Shh, take it easy. I’m just cleaning you up, love.” She tells you, once you try to move her head from her cunt. And, even though her words add a bit of a scold, there’s a hint of a smirk on her face, as she adds. “Don’t whine. What kind of girlfriend would I be if I left you so messy like that?”

Now that you’ve come down from your high, Irene’s words make you blush. She didn’t have time to make a joke or give you a reassuring tug, as she usually would, though. Her focus is on your sex, as she pays long, sloppy licks to it. Her nose brushes your clit— the post-orgasm sensitiveness making the sensation twice as hard, and you bite your lip to keep yourself from moaning and begging.

“J-joohyun…” You try to get her attention, after what it feels like a lifetime. You can feel the pleasure starting to build up again, and your girlfriend is clearly dozed out, vigorously enamored with your cunt as she eats you out for her pleasure. With one last harsh suck on your clit, Irene abides to your wishes, her face now in front of yours.

You take a minute to brush her delicate features, before speaking anything. Her defined jaw, her long lashes, her lustrous eyes. You adore her; she truly makes you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

“Perfect.” She murmurs, breaking the gap between you as her lips kiss you with gentleness. Her words make you smile onto the kiss, caressing her neck as you bring her even closer. “My love.”

“I could say the same of you.” You divert your eyes to the covers, insecure about your following words. Breathing deeply, you continue, “Thank you for this. And for not rushing me, even after so many months. I loved it, and I love to be with you.”

As you stare at Irene’s big, chocolate eyes, you find nothing but the purest form of love. There’s no possible way to not feel comfortable under such embrace.

“I’d wait many more. Years, even, if it means having you by my side. I’m in love with you, Y/n. Not just for sex, not for your body.” She clarifies, hiding her face on your neck as she always does, when you find yourselves tangled in a messy embrace. “I love you for who you are. Your qualities, your flaws, your passions… And I’m very thankful to feel loved in so many ways by you, too.”

You frown, playfully poking her ribs. “Are you saying I’m flawed?”

Irene rolls her eyes, silencing you with a kiss.

“Shut up, you idiot.”

And soon you’re making out again, with the promise of a long, long night. You feel respected, safe, and secured. As you run your fingers through your girlfriend’s small waist, you immediately know: there’s no place elsewhere you’d rather be.

#red velvet x reader #red velvet imagines #red velvet smut #irene smut #red velvet irene #bae joohyun #irene x reader #bae joohyun x reader #sol writes

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harunovella · 9 months

Text

bae watch; s.g. - lifeguard!gojo headcanons

a/n: in the midst of working on my gojo series, I saw this still and just had to throw something together! I forgot making hc’s was a thing? would’ve saved me sm time to get out all my fic ideas… anyway, here’s some lifeguard!gojo x beach goer!fem!reader, enjoy (no warnings, just a bit suggestive at the end & not beta read)

- gojo satoru knows he is the hottest man alive, he has no humility in that aspect, it’s just obvious to him… why else would people—specifically mothers—constantly gawk at him when he walked along the sandy beaches in that red lifeguard sweater unzipped, chiseled abs and solid chest on display, and tight (matching) shorts to top it all off? not to mention, the rounded dark shades that he always let slid down his nose to send the ladies winks their way… he’s handsome, he’s sexy, he’s every synonym for attractive known to man

- there’s no doubt the partners of said women (should they be their with a boyfriend or spouse) are dripping in jealousy… how can they compete with that? those ocean ices, snow white hair that shined under the sun lilac and that subtle ton on his smooth skin… all recipes for jealousy. gojo thrived off of it, it boosted his ego… no matter how many times his friends warned him to take it down a notch, the man never cared, this was his serotonin! so of course when there’s a new cutie on the beach during the summer—a new regular—he can’t help but want her attention as well!

- and by her, I clearly mean you. he wants your attention. he’s a slut for it, he needs everyone’s undivided attention on his washboard abs and charming smirk that held pearly white teeth. however, you weren’t giving it to him. you didn’t pay him mind and he wasn’t liking that…

- you, for once, took the summer off from college. sure, you were in a hurry to finish, but your mental health came first and you needed time away…

- the beach was actually in your home town, the school you attended was more inland and you needed to get closer to nature somehow. and that somehow was the ocean blue before you. you didn’t live to far, a good half hour drive depending on traffic, sometimes relying on the bus if you were feeling a bit lazy… most of the time you came with your childhood friends you kept in touch with. most were already working their full time jobs while others were on the same boat as you, managing work and school life. the bright idea of enjoying the summer at the beach almost daily came from one of your good friends and you couldn’t quite turn the opportunity down—you practically grew up on the beach. you just didn’t expect an obnoxious man to obstruct that… let alone, your view.

- according to one of your friends, gojo satoru was the local hottie… the man everyone wanted but no one could have. a true, living and breathing tease. all sorts of rumors floated around him but you didn’t pay him mind… wasn’t like you were interested anyway! right?

- wrong! who were you to deflect the gojo satoru’s charm? well… at least you tried…

- you spent what felt like days ignoring his every move, the constant flirtation, the obvious need for your attention specifically… you weren’t sure why, he barely even knew you!

- unbeknownst to you, one of you local friends was actually good college friends with him—ieiri shoko

- what you didn’t know was that your belove lifeguard begged and begged and pleaded his old brunette college bestie for any and every detail about you: from your favorite color to your oddest quirk. she didn’t understand why at first, for as long as she’s known the man, he’s never cared for anyone other himself (not entirely true, he actually really loves his friends)… that is until it hit her. he actually had a crush on a girl who didn’t want anything to do with him! how odd was that?

- wasn’t all that odd when shoko was a good people reader and she knew that deep down inside (not too deep) you very much found gojo attractive. she’s seen the way you look at him when he’s not paying attention. she’s seen the way you’ve counted his abs, your eyes bouncing from side to side… and she’s definitely seen you doodle little sketches of him along the margins of the books you were reading in ink… you’re not so innocent yourself.

- thus! she plays matchmaker! she helps her little (but really, giant) white haired friend to get the girl under one condition: he doesn’t fuck it up!

- and he swears tooth and nail he won’t!

- to her surprise, he actually is doing everything to get your attention. not always the right way but he’s trying. he asks you how you’re doing, but then let’s put a snarky remark, only to save it with a compliment out of nowhere. he may be a great flirt to women he actually has no interest in, but when he’s flirting with a girl he actually wants… he’s awful… oddly enough.

- and yet… you start to fall for that? when those goofy moments slip? he always kills it by trying to play it cool (you wish he wouldn’t) but when that awkward, flustered gojo escapes… it makes your heart skip a beat. makes it race just a little bit…

- maybe that’s why one day you couldn’t help but pull him into a kiss outta the blue. maybe to get a reaction, maybe because you’ve been wanting too—he’s got pink plush lips, who wouldn’t be tempted to? also… maybe you wanted to shut him up because, really, wasn’t it obvious he won you ever? he already had you visiting more than before (alone), he already was sitting by your side on his breaks… you never shooed him away, actually spoke to him, and even brought him food most of the time. was he that oblivious? he just kept blabbering on, thinking he still needed to win you over but, really, it actually wasn’t as hard as he thought (which kinda scared you but here you are, kissing him out in the open as if he wasn’t a lifeguard on duty).

- you obviously latched onto his jacket, had him yanked your way, maybe even slid in between his legs to get a better angle… gojo maybe have wrapped his massive hands around your waist to keep you there and he may have gotten significantly hard to the point you felt it and couldn’t help but laugh hid it kindly with your extra towel and a “rain check? you know, when you’re not in the middle of watching over people…” and gojo being the fool he is couldn’t help but pout, complaining about “how can I go back to the tower when I’m like this! you have to help me!”

- and guess what? you know those little changing tents? maybe you two slid into one, maybe you loosened up those shorts that accentuated his thighs and ass and maybe—just maybe—you got on your knees for him as a reward for his efforts of winning you over ♡

#harunovella writes;#gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk #satoru gojo x oc #headcanon #lifeguard!gojo satoru #fem reader

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sapphire-writes · 10 months

Text

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 3 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: The gang comes to Luke's aid when he needs to find a new boat. You and Aemond continue to be at each other's throats.

word count: 4.9k

warnings below the cut!

warnings: sensual themes, language, drinking, smoking the devil's lettuce (general substance use warning)

note: thank you for all the love so far! I appreciate it so very much!

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

The clouds cleared from the stormy previous night, leaving the sky free of clouds and the sun reflecting over the choppy surf of Blackwater Bay. You’d found sleep easily, soothed by the splashing rain against the windows of High Tide.

You’d fallen asleep in Baela’s room after binge-watching Criminal Minds together (something you first bonded over when you became roommates at university together). You don’t open your eyes yet, even though you can feel the warmth of sunlight on your face. You’re content to try to sleep a little longer until the vibrations of Baela’s phone begin next to you.

You open your eyes a smidge, peering through your lashes at the screen. Rhaena’s name and face light up Baela’s phone. A cute picture of her smiling holding a pale snake around her neck, its face pressed against hers with its pink-forked tongue tickling her cheek.

“Bae,” you murmur, nudging your friend. She groans, turning to face you, peering at her phone. Rhaena’s face disappears as the call remains unanswered.

“She probably wants to go on a run or something,” Baela mumbles, “Or try to guilt me into a family beach trip.”

Rhaena calls again and Baela lets out an irritated whine.

She slides a finger over the screen, and Rhaena appears on the screen. Her violet eyes are wide, and it looks like she has just woken up as well; a pink silk bonnet hides her silver locs.

“What d’you want?” Baela mumbles at her sister.

“Get up,” Rhaena says, in a half whisper, “Get up, get up, and get to Dragonstone!”

“Ew. No,” Baela says, scrunching her nose in distaste, “Why?”

“Dudes, you need to get over hear,” Helaena’s voice is heard offscreen. Baela’s head rises from her pillow and she grabs the phone, angling it so you can see.

“Hel there?” Baela asks, as more voices can begin to be heard in the background. You share a confused glance with Baela.

“You want some drama?” Helaena snickers, coming into the frame and squeezing her face next to Rhaena’s. Shouting echoes from the room they’re in. Baela glances at you again, with a ‘what the fuck?’ expression on her face.

“.....your fault you fucking psycho!” Luke’s voice rings, breaking as though he may be crying through his yells.

Baela’s eyes widen and she glances at you, scooting closer so you can both peer over her phone.

“Maybe if you paid better attention you wouldn’t have-” Aemond’s voice carries through the speaker, a taunting, musical quality to the words he speaks.

“What the fuck?” Baela says, muting herself, “What the fuck are they talking about?”

You can hear the arguing in the background, and see Helaena grab the phone from Rhaena, smiling at you and Baela before shoving it in her pocket. You can hear the muffled conversation.

“You’re blaming me? Seriously? You came outta fucking nowhere in that old piece of shi-” Luke chokes on the words, “That ship is fucking huge!”

“You shouldn’t have been out in the stupid little dingy anyway,” Aemond’s voice carries, and you feel your face begin to burn with anger at his condescending tone directed at Luke.

“It’s too fucking late in the season-”

“Use Vermax-

“No way my trip!” Jace’s voice barely carries through, “You’re not TOUCHING my boat-”

“Shut up!”

Baela unmutes herself then.

“Rhae!” she calls, “Hel!”

Helaena’s hand enters her pocket, and she brings the phone to her face. She motions to Rhaena as the yelling continues, moving to a different room.

“What the fuck are they talking about?” you ask when the yelling has quieted down.

“Aemond sank Luke’s boat last night,” Rhaena tells you, “It’s completely destroyed. Unsalvageable.”

Your heart drops into your stomach, lips parting in shock. Baela lets out a laugh in disbelief.

“He sunk Luke’s boat? Why would he do that?” you ask and Baela rolls her eyes.

“Please, we’re lucky he didn’t kill him,” she argues, and Helaena laughs.

“Don’t count your eggs before they’ve hatched cuz,” Hel murmurs, “It’s a bloodbath in there.”

“They’ve got another boat he can sail, don’t they?” Baela asks.

“I don’t think so,” Rhaena says, shaking her head, “Unless you’re talking about..”

“I mean…..that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” Baela interrupts. The twins are silent for a moment until Helaena speaks.

“Okay, I'm usually great at reading the room, but even I’m lost,” she says, and you laugh.

“Me too, Hel,” you tell her.

Baela sits up in bed sighing dramatically.

“Bring Jace and Luke, meet us at Hulls in an hour,” she instructs.

Rhaena agrees and you end the call. You watch Baela carefully, her expression is grim.

“What’s at Hull?” you ask curiously.

“My uncle’s boat,” she tells you, “Seasmoke.”

Turns out Hull was referring to a person rather than a place. Well, two people. Addam and Alyn Hull, two brothers who manage a boat rental service on Driftmark. When you and Baela arrive at the docks you’re greeted by a weathered sign that reads Hull Boat Rentals.

Luke, Jace, and Rhaena are there when you arrive. Luke’s eyes are red, along with his nose. He’s clearly been crying for most of the morning. Jace looks furious beside him and Rhaena smiles tentatively as you approach.

Baela pulls Luke into a hug immediately, and the younger boy wraps his arms around her.

“I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m sorry about Arrax,” Baela tells him, squeezing him tightly.

Luke mumbles his thanks and Baela releases him. She glances around the dock, looking at the boats lined up, rocking gently with each passing wave.

“I called Addam,” Rhaena tells her, “He’s still got some options, and Seasmoke too if that’s what we’re thinking.”

“I don’t know…” Luke says, eyes watery, “Maybe we can look around?”

“Of course, we can,” Jace agrees.

You’re greeted by Addam Hull a few minutes later; he’s a strapping young guy in jean cutoffs and a white tank top that’s seen better days. He’s covered in sweat and grease but that doesn’t dull the award-winning smile he’s got on his face.

“We’ve got a lot of options still,” Addam assures Luke, “Mostly our older schooners. Not many people rent for the regatta.”

Luke’s crestfallen expression remains as you view the available boats. You love how each one has its own name, its own personality really. Luke spends extra time on one called Grey Ghost but shakes his head when Addam asks if he likes it.

“I think we should look at…” Jace trails off. Luke frowns deeply, as though he was trying to avoid the situation.

“I’ve been taking good care of it,” Addam says softly to Luke.

“Okay,” Luke decided, “Let’s see it.”

Seasmoke is a massive sailboat, bigger than the ones you’ve seen so far. The hull is painted a pale silver-gray that reflects the light from the top of the water. It’s missing the mainsail, and seems to have been used for storage rather than sailing for the last several years.

Luke walks over to it, placing his hand on the hull. Barnacles have begun to take over and he runs his fingers along the rough surface.

“How long has she been out of commission?” Luke asks, and Addam shrugs.

“A while,” he tells him. Jace shares a concerned glance with Baela. Luke sighs, dropping his hand from the hull. Jace walks up next to him.

“Remember when Dad took us out for the first time? How we ended up in the Stepstones?” Jace says, smiling at his brother. Luke chuckles slightly.

“I remember you peeing your pants because he told us there were pirates that would get us,” Luke says with a smirk.

“It wasn’t funny!” Jace argues and you can’t help but laugh along with them. It's the first time Luke has smiled today. It wavers slightly as he looks at Seasmoke again.

You can’t imagine what’s going on in his head. It sounds like no one has sailed Seasmoke since Laenor left town. Even though you know there’s history there, that Rhaenyra had an affair with Harwin Strong, it sounds like Laenor was truly their dad. Luke’s eyes are melancholic, and he touches the hull again.

“Okay,” he says softly, “We’ll use Seasmoke.”

You slap the mop against the deck of the ship watching the water spread and turn brown almost immediately. Sheesh. This is going to be a lot of work. Luke sits miserably on the edge of the boat, his head hanging. Rhaena sits next to him, bumping her shoulder against his. He had hope in the beginning, but as the hours ticked by he became more frustrated with the large task at hand.

“It’s pointless,” Luke says softly, sniffling and rubbing his nose, “It’s going to take too long… it's not worth it.” He shakes his head, eyes trained on the deck.

“With our help, it’ll get done faster than you think,” Rhaena insists, “And then you can practice and everything will be fine.”

Luke shakes his head, unconvinced. “We need sails. Fuck- I don’t even think they make the kind Dad used…with that stupid…what’s it called? For the jib?” He sighs again. Rhaena glances at you and you begin to chew your lower lip.

“Whatever you need, Luke,” you tell the younger boy, “We’ve got your back.”

Even Helaena had joined to help assist Luke with prepping Seasmoke. She’d come dressed in overalls, hair pulled out of her face ready to get to work.

“I can call Iron Islands,” Jace tells him, “Place an order for the sails, they have all that shit.”

“That’s hours away,” Luke moans, placing his head in his hands, “And who knows if they have any left, it’s prime sailing season-”

“Mr. Negative!” Helaena chastises, “What don’t you understand?” She walks over to squat in front of him, placing a comforting hand on his knee, “We’ve got this Luke. You worry about driving this bad boy, we’ll worry about the rest.”

Jace smiles and then glances past you, a frown appearing on his face.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he mumbles, and you follow his gaze to someone walking down the dock.

Aemond comes into view and a familiar surge of anger rushes through you as you walk down the ramp and off of Seasmoke. Aemond slows his purposeful gait when he sees you, his lip curling upwards as he comes to a halt.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Came to see the damage,” he says.

“Haven’t you done enough?” you snap.

“It was an accident,” Aemond insists, “Not my fault the little twerp can’t sail.”

“You’re such a prick,” you tell him, “I hurt your ego that much, you go for attempted murder?”

“Luke can swim,” Aemond says with a shrug.

“You really don’t fucking feel bad, do you?” you ask in disbelief.

“As I said, an accident,” he says, continuing to walk by you.

“Where are you going?”

“Onto the boat.”

“Well don’t!”

“Like I want to be stuck with you all day,” he retorts, “Not my choice.”

Luke looks up as you come aboard, rolling his eyes.

“The fuck you want?” he snaps.

“Mom insisted,” Aemond says, looking around the deck, “This is the one you chose?”

“It was the best option,” Rhaena says, defending Luke.

Aemond purses his lips together, a smug smile creeping onto his face. “Interesting choice is all.”

“Why’s that?” Jace asks, squeezing his hands into fists by his side. Baela moves toward him, as Aemond shrugs.

“Let’s go start cleaning out the lower deck,” she encourages, pushing him toward the entrance. Jace disappears below deck and Baela grimaces at you.

Helaena walks over to her brother, who tosses her a tube of sunscreen. “Mom told me to bring you that,” he tells her, following her to the other side of the deck.

“Am I totally ruining your summer?” she asks, pouting at you. You can tell this was not what Baela had planned. But you can’t find it in you to feel anything but sympathy for Luke. It wasn’t his fault this happened.

“Not at all,” you assure her, “I want to help!”

Baela smiles, and even Luke looks up, sparing a small, pained smile.

The days tick by and though it doesn’t feel like it, you’re making some progress. Baela and Jace spent the majority of time clearing out below deck and Aemond (to avoid more confrontation) made himself useful focusing on scraping the barnacles off of the sides of Seasmoke.

Scrubbing the starboard bow with Baela, another girl joins you later in the week. She introduces herself as Sara Snow, a childhood friend of Baela and Rhaena’s. She’s also incredibly kind enough to bring you all lunch from the Wolf’s Den, her family’s restaurant a few blocks away. She even brings Aemond something, tossing him a takeaway bag that he stains with his grease-stained hands.

He doesn’t join you on deck to each, choosing to sit by himself on the dock. Jace joined a solemn Luke below deck.

“I cannot believe he fucking did that,” Sara whispers, after hearing the whole story about what happened to Arrax, “The fucking nerve of that guy.”

“That’s Aem,” Helaena says, leaning her back against Sara’s, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of her nose. She reaches down her shirt revealing a tightly rolled joint, bringing it to her lips as she digs in her pockets looking for a lighter.

Sara opens her purse, finding one easily as Hel struggles, passing it back to her friend. Hel murmurs a thank you around the joint before lighting it.

“Has he always been like this?” you ask, unable to help yourself. Aemond Targaryen gets under your skin.

“Like what?” Hel says, coughing slightly, passing the lit joint to Baela. She takes a long drag, closing her eyes.

“Like an ass,” you clarify and Helaena chuckles.

Sara smirks, something you don’t fail to notice.

“What?” you ask and she shakes her head.

“I don’t know what happened to him, to be honest,” Sara tells you, “Back in high school, Aemond was just like this nerdy guy. Always polite, even on the verge of sweet.”

Baela nods in agreement.

“Then he goes off to college and comes back a total prick,” she says, reaching for a french fry, “I mean, he’s always been a bit of a prick but he switched it up to being a complete douche.”

“And that whole thing with Floris…” Sara says, raising her eyebrows.

“They’re not doing that anymore,” you tell them, and they all stare, “I kind of walked into the middle of their breakup.”

Sara snorts out a laugh.

“Aemond doesn’t date,” Sara clarifies, “He took a page from Aegon’s book.”

“Ew,” Rhaena says, shuddering. She shakes her head as Baela offers her the joint. Sara plucks it from her fingers, taking a drag.

“At least Aegon doesn’t shit where he eats,” Helaena defends, “He keeps his drama away from King’s Landing.”

“Remember when he was with Cece Lannister?” Sara says, still on her Aemond train of thought, “Man, that was dramatic.”

Helaena groans. “Please don’t mention Cece. Mom is still trying to regrow the rose bushes she set on fire,” she says, shaking her head.

Your eyes widen.

“She set your house on fire?”

“Just the rose bushes,” Helaena assures. Unsurprisingly, this fact doesn’t comfort you.

“You wanna know what I heard?” Sara says, handing you the joint.

You’ve smoked before, casually, throughout your time at college. You nod, encouraging Sara to continue, placing the joint between your lips and inhaling the sweet smoke.

“I heard he had an orgy with all the Baratheon girls,” Sara says, lowering her voice considerably.

Helaena slams her hands over her ears and begins screaming, you jump in surprise at the sudden high-pitched sound. You cough, the joint nearly slipping from your fingers as you double over. Rhaena’s jaw is on the floor and Baela is shaking her head violently.

“They’re sisters!” Rhaena hisses, trying to stop Helaena’s screams, “Biologically!”

“I’m just repeating what I heard!” Sara insists, covering her mouth and laughing.

“From who?”

“Qyle Martell.”

“Oh, the most reliable fucking narrator-”

“What’s going on?” Aemond calls from his spot on the dock.

Your laughter and screams stop abruptly as you all call back different versions of “nothing!” “Everything's fine!” and Helaena screaming, “You pervert!”

Aemond holds his hands out in confusion, his eyebrows furrowed. He meets your eyes and you blush, hoping he doesn’t notice as you quickly avert your gaze.

After a few more hours and a quick swim to clean the sweat and grease from the work and you slip your extra sundress over your bathing suit, ready to head out for the day.

“Dinner?” Sara asks, “We can go to the Wolf Den.”

“We’ve had that nearly every day this week,” Baela moans.

“It's summer. We eat every meal there,” Sara insists, clasping her hands on Baela’s shoulders, “Besides, Y/N hasn’t been to the Wolf Den yet! She’s got to meet Cregan!”

Sara’s been telling you all about her brother; he seems nice. You’re all tired and too hungry to disagree so you head to the Wolf Den. Aemond narrows his eyes at Helaena, who nudges him with her shoulder.

“You’re as bad as Egg,” she teases, and his eyes narrow.

“Why?” Aemond asks, a frown playing on his lips.

“I’ve heard rumors about you little bro,” she says and shudders dramatically, “Rumors a sister should not be hearing about her little brother. Ew.” Helaena sticks her tongue out, pretending to gag.

Aemond’s nose scrunches in distaste. “What do you mean?” he asks but Helaena shakes her head.

“I’m not repeating what I heard! What, am I, a gossip now?” Helaena says, feigning offense with a hand over her chest. Aemond purses his lips and continues arguing with her as they walk ahead of you.

The Wolf Den is on the mainland, and with Seasmoke in no condition to sail, you pile onto Vermax; though Aemond leaves on another side of the docks. You don’t see where he goes, but when you ask Helaena she merely shrugs.

“He’s not getting on a boat with Luke again,” she tells you, “But he’ll probably come through to the Wolf Den. Dude’s gotta eat.”

After a gentle trip across Blackwater Bay, Helaena offers to drive you all in her light blue convertible. The Wolf’s Den is cute; the outer deck is decorated with twinkling multicolored string lights. It’s right on the water, and the music can be heard from outside. Sara ushers you in and you see the appeal right away.

High ceilings, a generous amount of tables, and a dance floor in the middle of the room. Paper lanterns hang from the ceiling rafters, illuminating the room with a soft golden glow. It's warm and cozy and inviting. The bartender, a big beefy guy with a thick beard, waves at Sara. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt decorated with wolves wearing sunglasses, and lounging on the beach.

“Sup sis,” he says as you walk over to the bar with her, “Woah, no kids at the bar please, we’ve been through this.” Luke frowns dramatically at him. So this must be Cregan.

“Even if I’m sad?” he asks, jutting out his lower lip.

“You still 17?” Cregan asks, and Luke opens his mouth to protest, “Yeah, no. Grab that booth over there.”

Luke mumbles something under his breath, but Jace clasps a hand on his shoulder, turning him away from the bar. Rhaena goes to join them as they head to claim a booth.

“Sup Jace,” Cregan calls, and Jace glances over his shoulder. His cheeks turn a rosy shade of pink as he says hello. Sara scoots into a chair, motioning for you to sit. You do, Baela sliding next to you.

“What’re you drinking?” Cregan asks, smiling warmly at you, “I’m Cregan, by the way.” He offers his hand you take it, feeling the rough calluses as he engulfs your hand in his.

“Y/N,” you tell him, with a smile, “And umm is there something you recommend?”

Cregan releases your hand, nodding appreciatively. “The Winter Rose, if you trust me. It’s our current special.”

“I’ll do that,” you tell him.

“A risk taker, I like it,” he says, grabbing a shaker, “Ladies?”

“We’ll make it easy for you Stark, we’ll have the same,” Baela answers for herself and Sara. You look around the Wolf Den, just as Aemond walks through the door. You catch his eye briefly, before looking away, exhaling. Helaena notices, slipping off her stool to greet her brother. You can’t help but watch, noticing he’s joined by the same man from last week who he played tennis with.

As Cregan slides your drinks in front of you, Baela notices your distraction. She follows your gaze.

“Criston Cole,” she says, nodding to Aemond’s friend, “A friend of Alicent’s.” Aemond, Criston, and Helaena choose a table to sit at, on the opposite side of the room than Luke’s. It's deliberate, the choosing of sides. Even under the guise of working together on Seasmoke, the tension is palpable in the Wolf Den.

You spend most of the evening chatting and sharing drinks and food with Sara and Baela. They have the funniest stories about growing up together; spending summers between King’s Landing and Driftmark. They met with Sara and Cregan had moved to King’s Landing from Winterfell after the death of their father.

“Baela was my hero,” Sara told you, “I came to school, my first day at a new school, wearing my dire wolf slippers.” She bites her lips, “Kids started teasing me, calling me wolf girl. Baela punched 3 kids in their noses.”

“Friends ever since,” Baela says, smiling widely, before insisting you have to hit the dance floor, at least once this evening. One song turns into five, and soon you’re having the time of your life in the middle of the dance floor.

After a while, you slide up to the bar, ordering water, leaning your palms against the counter. You’re a tad tipsy, that perfect buzz where you feel incredibly warm, and your palms have started to tingle.

Cregan hands you your water, before attending to other patrons. You hold the glass against your bare sternum, relishing the feeling of the cool condensation on your skin. You dip your fingers into the cup, removing an ice cube and sliding it over your collarbone, and around the back of your neck.

“Having fun?” you’d know that snarky voice anywhere. Aemond slides up next to you, leaning against the bar. His eye tracks a drop of water that runs down your chest, before disappearing between your cleavage.

You bring the ice cube to your lips, rubbing them against it.

“Yup,” you murmur around it, not really sure why he’s making small talk with you.

The ice cube has nearly melted, so you hold it against the back of your neck once more.

“Hot?” Aemond murmurs. You glance up at him.

“What?” you ask.

“You’re hot?” he asks again, motioning to the ice cube.

“I was dancing,” you tell him.

“I saw,” he says, lip curling upwards.

“Do you have a problem with me?” you ask, the liquor giving you courage, “I’ve been nothing but nice to you-”

“You ruined a family heirloom the first day I met you,” Aemond interrupts, tapping his long fingers against the bar.

“That was an accident,” you tell him, again, but your cheeks bloom with blush regardless.

Aemond smiles at that, eye flickering over your face.

“Your flower boy ask you out yet?” Aemond asks, quickly changing the subject.

“Flower boy?” you ask, until you realize he’s referring to Will, “Why do you care?”

“I don’t,” he tells you, raising a brow, “Just curious. It gets dull around here.”

“The thrill from sinking teenage boys' boats only lasts so long, huh?” you tell him, turning to face him. Shit, he’s tall. You’re forced to look up at him through your lashes. Aemond turns slightly, leaning one hand against the bar as he smirks down at you.

“I’ll have to find something else to entertain me,” he agrees, tilting his head.

“Heard you don’t have a problem with that,” the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them. Goddamn, it. Baela once told you your mouth would be the death of you. Sometimes you just can’t seem to stop your thoughts.

“What’s that mean?” Aemond asks with a shimmer of curiosity in his eye.

“Nothing,” you tell him, shaking your head, “Stop talking to me.”

“The mouth on you,” Aemond says, shaking his head, “You’re being rather rude.”

Your jaw slacks, eyes widening. “I’m being rude? You’re the one being rude!” you tell him.

“How so?” he inquires, a puzzled expression crossing his features. You scowl at him.

“You’re just trying to be an ass,” you tell him, shaking your head, “You know, I’m a very nice person. We could have been friends.”

“You and I are not going to be friends,” Aemond says, voice lowering an octave. He looks at you intensely and you feel warmth creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. You break away from his gaze, taking a sip of your water.

“Sara was fucking lying,” you mumble, more to yourself than to him.

Aemond brings his lower lip between his teeth. You can tell, he’s genuinely curious about what information you have on him.

“About….?” he asks.

Your cheeks are blazing with heat, but you decide to call him out.

“About you and Floris,” you say, placing your glass on the counter, “And her siblings? Sounds a little incestuous to me.”

Aemond’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline. You reach for your drink again, needing something to do with your hands.

“Oh?” he says, pursing his lips. He hums slightly, gazing at you.

“I didn’t believe it,” you tell him, sipping your drink, “Four girls is a lot to handle.”

“It’s surprisingly easy when you know what you’re doing,” Aemond answers casually.

You nearly choke, but manage to compose yourself as he watches you carefully. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Your mind drifts to Floris, the conversation you overheard. To Cece Lannister burning rose bushes. You swallow the lump forming in your throat. You can’t help your curiosity. Aemond somehow had them wrapped around his finger.

“Yeah right,” you tell him, laughing slightly, “You’re all talk.”

You’re baiting him slightly, but you don’t care.

“You wanna find out?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Your breath catches as he leans forward, bending slightly to your height. Aemond brings his face next to yours, you can feel the tip of his nose drag across your cheek. Instinctively, your eyes flutter shut.

“There’s a bathroom right down the hall,” he murmurs against the shell of your ear, “Give me ten minutes and I’ll show you what all that talks about.”

Holy shit.

You were not expecting that reaction.

“I’m not fucking you in the bathroom,” you hiss, pushing your hand against his chest. You can’t think with his breath against your ear.

“Wherever you want,” he tells you, grabbing your wrist. His touch is like fire, as he rubs his thumb along the smooth skin of your inner wrist. Goosebumps form on your arms and you have to suppress a slight whimper.

Girl, get it together. You’re tipsy that’s all. It's just the alcohol and a hot guy, nothing more. It doesn’t help that the last time you got laid was a one-night stand months ago that left you on read when you reached out the next day.

“Wha-what?” you ask him, eyes wide.

“Name the place,” he says, “And time. I’m very punctual.”

You blink, not believing what you’re hearing.

“You’re not serious-”

“I am though,” he says, pursing his lips, “You tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”

You stare at him in disbelief before shaking your head.

“You don’t even like me-”

“So?”

Anger surges through you, along with a sharp sting of humiliation. Your lips turn down in a frown.

“You’re beautiful,” Aemond says, shocking you like a slap to the face, “Clearly intelligent. I don’t see why we can’t help each other out.”

“What are you even talking about?” you ask in bewilderment.

“A friends-with-benefits situation,” Aemond answers, honestly.

“You’re not even my friend! You said so yourself!” you tell him, a shaky laugh leaving your lips.

“We can change the name of the arrangement if that’s your hesitation,” Aemond assures you.

“If you’re looking for a fuckbuddy, call Floris,” you tell him.

“That door is closed,” he tells you and you blink in disbelief. He’s speaking so clinically, in such a detached manner.

Jesus Christ, who hurt this guy?

“Well then take your pick of the other Baratheon girls!” you encourage, “I’m not interested!”

“You keep telling yourself that,” he says, smirking, “You know where to find me.”

You hurry away from the bar, and back onto the dancefloor with Baela, Sara, Helaena, and Rhaena. They greet you with open arms and pull you into a dance. You glance back at the bar where Aemond still stands, watching you as he leans against the bar.

You meet his eye, feeling warmth pool in your lower belly. No fucking way. Not this prick. You’re not that down bad for a summer fling. And plus, you have options! Will Tyrell seems like a nice guy! And Driftmark is a big island. So is King’s Landing. Anyone can be your summer fling.

Anyone but him.

note: is it.....getting warm in here? just me? okay bye hehe

as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected

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