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#jealousy and little family dance
extrashortshorts · 11 months
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In the Animal comics of the Straw-Hats, what would Vivi be? Or Iceberg? Bartolomeo?
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Could not get what animal Iceberg would be, so i trade him on two horses
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youryanderedaddy · 3 months
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War Prize
pt. 1, pt. 2
Tw: female reader, dub-con, somnophilia, stockholm syndrome, possessive behavior, hinted kidnapping, threats, commissioned piece
It had been so long since Raven captured you - five or six years in total, although you couldn't be quite sure of the exact amount as you had no access to books, calenders or even ink to write with.
Nowadays it was mostly calm around the occupied territories - almost domestic in a sense. You let yourself be pampered more often than not - you drunk the silky, bitter coffee Raven's slaves left out for you, and bathed in the sweet oils he picked for you. Long gone were the days when you fought him over the slightest injustice, long gone were the days when you stopped to think about every miserable soul who had to suffer so you could live in luxury. 
It was easier this way really. The barbarian was good to you, even if it wasn't in his nature initially. The hands that once bruised and hit and wrapped around your hair were now caressing your skin softly, the lips once sealed tight with furrowed hairy brows were leaving hot, wet kisses down your throat, feverish to the touch. You could wear the finest furs and dresses, your body covered in stolen gold and plundered diamonds from head to toe. Raven had made it clear - he loved you, and that meant that the whole world belonged to you the way you belonged to him.
Your life was simple, you had one purpose now - to please your master. You didn't have to work long hours on the field or take care of  a big, starving family ever again. All you had to do was spread your legs at any given moment, and stay soft and pliant in his rough, muscular hands. 
***
You'd usually wake up early in the morning from the slow, deep thrusts inside your hot wet cunt - stars dancing in your eyes as his length brushes against your cervix, filling you up to the brim. Your wrists are pinned above your head with little opportunity for movement, keeping you tightly into place. 
Raven starts slowly and keeps turning up the pace until he is practically shoving himself sloppily against your overflowing hole, his nails digging into the meat of your thighs so he can have more leverage over your quivering body.
“I love to see you fall apart beneath me.” He'd growl in your ear, his forehead resting against yours as his nostrils flare - eyes filled with sick, animalistic need to possess you fully. You moan, closing your eyes - too overwhelmed with pleasure to form a proper response. “Ah, ah, ah - no hiding from me. Let me see you, pretty girl.” Raven hisses, spreading your legs even wider, bouncing your hips up and down on his throbbing cock. 
Your lower lip trembles, desperate to stop another wave of wanton moans - but to no avail. Your sweet voice fills the tent, echoing beyond the thick walls.
“Look at you, all cute and teary for me. Aren't you just precious, slave?” The barbarian chuckles condescendingly, all while groping and slapping your ass lightly - playing with the hot doughy skin. “I want everyone to hear you.” His gaze darkens as his fist wraps around your neck possessively. “I want every single one of my men to hear you sing for me. I want their robes to strain with greed and jealousy with the knowledge that they'll never have my most prized possession.” 
You inhale sharply, lost in a cloudy headspace of dreams and red - hot pleasure. You feel your master's hand squeeze your throat tighter, and your pussy flutters around his length, slick running down your thighs and towards your asshole. It doesn't make sense - he is using you for his own satisfaction with little care for your personal comfort, but his touch makes you feel so warm and floaty, fuzzy butterflies tearing at your stomach - proud to belong to such a strong, powerful man. 
“I want you completely broken. I want to fill you up with my love and ruin you for any other man out there.” He'd groan, sinking his teeth into your neck and aiming for your sweet, sweet blood. “I want everyone to know that I tamed your pretty little brain and made you all mine, now and forever.” Raven kisses you, stealing the breath out of your mouth, sucking in all the panicked little sounds coming out of it. “Say it.” He orders, both threatening and desperate like a lovesick child. 
You can't stand it anymore - you throw your arms around his shoulders. You need to feel him against you, skin on skin. “I'm yours, all yours.” You cry out, holding on for dear life. There is no point denying it now - you can't imagine life without your master, no matter how cruel or difficult he may be. Who else would warm your bed? Who would give you purpose? Where else could you even go now that he has claimed you - and everybody knows?
“Say you love me.” His voice breaks, hands shivering as he holds you painfully close to him - as if the moment he lets go, he'd wake up and you'd be gone just like before. “Say you love me like I love you. Say you'll never leave me - or I swear to the Gods I'll chain you up here to never see the sun again.” He blubbers on and on, thrusts getting fast and frantic, pushing in and out of you with the ferocity of a lover and the fear of a man possessed. 
“I love you.” You whisper, laying back like a good little doll - letting yourself move and twist just the way he wants you to. He pulls you up into a standing position and all but swallows your sobs and wails, his tongue fighting yours for dominance. He lowly commands you to keep repeating it over and over again - until he gets sick of it (if ever), and paints your velvet walls all white and sticky with his seed. 
You take a couple of short shallow breaths, trying to resume your normal breathing. His hand rests on your neck - his eyes finally lose the furious, jealous spark, and he reaches out to stroke your hair gently.
“Good girl.”
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drefear · 8 months
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Another Jealousy Drabble based on something that happened last night.
TW: jealousy, possessivness
He touched you too much for Miguel’s liking. He pulled you close, hugged you too tight. That was going to be a problem. 
Miguel stood away from the group of your friends as you all danced, the loud club music blaring as you said hi to a coworker you ran into, who hugged you from behind a little too friendly, casually, and Miguel almost crushed the Modelo bottle in his hand. 
He felt his chest tighten and a pop of possessiveness spark a flame that he needed to extinguish quickly if he didn’t want to make a sense. Luckily, the coworker walked away and Miguel relaxed, then leaning back against the walk he was against and continuing to admire you. 
The relationship was still new, and he knew he shouldn’t like you this much yet, it was too soon, but he couldn’t help it. You were like a strange, funny, bright flower to his den of darkness. 
Later on, you both were coming down from the highs of sex, and Miguel stood up to grab you both pajamas. As he pulled on a pair of boxers, you leaned up on your elbows and watched his face tense. “Hey, you alright?” 
“Yeah, why?” 
“You seem off.” 
He sighed and straightened his shoulders as he outstretched his hand to give you his t-shirt to put on. You took it with a smile but his eyes were focused on the ground. 
“There it is again. You look upset, what’s wrong?” You pushed and he stood still, not sure if he wanted to discuss this, not sure if it would upset you. Your finger pushed at his side and he jolted back to the present moment from his thoughts, then feeling your hand hold his and intertwine your fingers together. “Please?” You begged and he relented. 
“If that guy ever touches and hugs you like that again, I’ll rip his arms off.” He deadpanned, tracing your jaw with one finger. This tone sent a shiver down your spine until you processed what he said. You opened your eyes wide and shook your head, raising your hands in defense. 
“Oh no no- he’s like family to me, and we’re just like that!” You justified it, but that made Miguel frown deeper. 
“Family?” He raised a brow, eyes dark with confusion before he pinched the bridge of his nose, “He does not see you as family. You may look at him like that, but he doesn’t see you that way. Trust me,” He squeezed your hand and leaned closer to you, “I’m a man, I know how other men think.” You sat still for a moment before a large grin appeared on your lips with eyes shining bright with understanding and mischief.m he backed away, but your hold on his hand was strong. “What are you-” 
“You’re jealous!” You said, almost giddy and he scrunched his nose. 
“No, I’m not. I’d have to be insecure to be jealous.” he folded his arms, letting go of your hand as you giggled. 
“Mhm.” You rolled your eyes at his macho man facade and tugged him closer by the band of his boxers. “Whatever you say.” 
“I’m not jealous.” He leaned down to your eye level now and pushed your shoulder back onto the bed before kissing a trail down your stomach, then looking up at you before reaching your hips. “But you’re mine, and he can’t touch what’s mine.” 
He reminded you that you were indeed his. And his alone.
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targaryen-dynasty · 7 months
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SWEET POISON.
Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader
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Cregan Stark was a decent man, but your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away. Yet you were ignoring him to keep the liaison between you a secret – much to your uncle's infuriation.
WORDS: 2.7 K
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; NON/DUB-CON, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle x niece), (semi) public sex, p in v, slight fingering, dacryphilia, slight petting, humiliating, degrading, choking, spitting, mean/dark/jealous/possessive!Aegon, female Reader (with Targaryen traits -> silver hair, lilac eyes)
NOTES: Written for @lovelykhaleesiii 🥰 You prefer the uncle x niece trope? Say no more! Thank you so much! 🤭
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The arrangement between you and Cregan Stark made more than sense to tie the North to your mother’s side of the family. Especially if Aegon should ever choose to assert his claim to the Iron Throne, despite not being appointed heir by your grandsire. 
It was a good plan, and nothing more than a political arrangement. 
You had met Cregan once before the King’s official announcement of your betrothal and the supper he hosted in honor of it, and while he was a decent man, your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away. 
All evening you had to endure the cold stare of Aegon. And while his eyes usually were glued to you with a certain softness that caused you to get lost in them, they did nothing more than burn with fury at the end of the feast. 
But the announcement of your betrothal was not the trigger, you had informed Aegon beforehand a few nights ago. It was the way you clung to Cregan’s hand as he guided you to the dance floor. The way you smiled and laughed whenever the Stark made a joke. And if this didn’t fuel his jealousy, you not paying any attention to him at all certainly did. 
The whole night long.
It wasn’t that you were ashamed of the match made for you, but you were just too afraid to look at Aegon once you’d noticed your mistake, for your uncle was known to be quick to anger and slow to forgive. And you weren't sure if you were ready to face the dragon’s wrath. 
The liaison between you was a secret. You were sure your mother and stepfather would feed you to their dragons, if it were to become known to them that your uncle had broken your maidenhead the night you turned ten-and-nine. But the agreement of secrecy seemed to be long forgotten by said uncle, his jealousy clearly taking over. 
It was no surprise that, when you eventually exited the throne room as the feast was nearing its end, a shadow in the form of Aegon trailed behind you like a predator waiting for the right moment to seize its prey. 
And seizing you he did, once the hallways became more dimly lit and lonelier. 
There was an urgency in him when he not-so-gently fisted your hair to pull you back, shoving you into one of the keeps alcoves. He didn’t have to speak first, as there was no need for him to phrase what bothered him. You knew all too well what plagued his mind.  
“He–We–We are betrothed,” you whimpered, lips pulling into a pout while your head was firmly pressed against the stone wall of the alcove by Aegon’s hand around your throat, “do not be mad at me.”
Your heart was racing, pounding against the confines of your ribcage with Aegon’s large hand trailing over the bodice of your dress, fisting the skirts of it to lift it enough for his hand to snake underneath. “Are you really sulking now?” he growled, breath reeking of Arbor red as it fanned over your face. His thumb started to circle over the dampened spot in the center of your smallclothes, teasing your little bud. Your small hand reached for his wrist, though you weren’t sure if you wanted to claw his hand off your throat or if you used the grip to keep yourself grounded. 
The sound of pleasure that left your lips was the epitome of pathetic, and the volume of it had embarrassment coloring your cheeks and neck in a bright red. Your bottom lip trembled, and, despite the pleasurable sensations that rippled through your core at the ministrations of his thumb, you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. “Y-Yes!” you all but whined, though you tried your best to keep your voice low considering you were still kind of out in the open, barely shielded by the alcove. 
Aegon flashed you a lazy smirk when you focused your eyes from the bawdy tapestry hanging on the wall behind him, finally meeting his eyes. “Then quit the sulking before I give you something to sulk about, niece.” 
It was well-known that Aegon was not a proficient warrior, unlike his younger brother, yet this did not mean that he wasn’t strong. His grip on your throat was tight enough to lock you in place, rendering you immobile, and when he placed one thigh between yours, you knew all hope for you was lost.  
“Mayhaps I must drag you back to the Throne Room…,” he muttered, tilting his head to the side as he assessed you, watching your eyes grow wide with fear. “... bend you over the table to claim you in front of everyone. Mayhaps this will show my half-sister that you belong to me.” 
You tried to cower, lilac eyes flickering between the emeralds on his gold chain and his mocking expression. “Gods,” you breathed, the thought sending shivers down your spine, “p-please, no–” Your words were cut off by your own gasp when two of his thick digits pushed the linen of your smallclothes aside to scarcely drag through your soaked mound, barely using any of your arousal to slide inside without a warning.
But, as quick as his fingers had entered you, they withdrew again, resuming to rubbing your little bud.
“P-Please,” Aegon mocked with a dry chuckle, pushing his lips into a pout to mimic the one you had made before, “you are so pretty when you beg.” The backhanded compliment seemed to be enough to dull your inhibitions, allowing a warmth sensation to bubble in the pit of your stomach. “I know you like it, sweetling,” his head dips forward, looking you down with a sharp expression, “when I treat you like the common whore you are, taking right after your mother.” 
And just like that, the warmth vanished, bringing you back to the cold reality and the predicament you had found yourself in. Perhaps you should have seen it coming sooner, having witnessed all the oh so cruel jokes he had made at the expense of his own kin, his younger brother. But why did a part of you crave his cruelness so much? 
Your body was torn between feeling a hunger for him and being humiliated by him, the interplay of both leaving you utterly confused. When you turned your head to the side to escape his mocking stare, and hide the tears rolling down your cheeks, Aegon was quick to force you to meet his gaze again, his hand releasing your throat, so his fingers could not-so-gently dig into your cheeks. 
“You look at me when you cry,” he commanded, seemingly enjoying the power he held over you, compensating for something he lacked in his everyday life. “Those tears belong to me,” he said, gathering some of them with the pad of his thumb, “just like this sweet cunt of yours. You belong to me, not to that cunt of a Stark. Am I understood?”
When you didn’t answer, he spoke again, but not without spitting on your cheek first, feeding the shame and the humiliation you felt. 
“Am I understood?” 
Your face grew burning hot with the realization of what he had done, your mouth agape, but before he could spit on you for a second time, you were quick to manage a short whimper of ‘y-yes.’
His lilac eyes were dark blown, a perverted desire flickering in them, and letting you know you were right about the dragon’s wrath. He loomed over you like a vulture, and shielded your small frame from the few people passing the alcove on their way.
“You are so fortunate, little niece. Do you know what other ladies would do to be in your place, to be desired by the future King of the Seven Kingdoms? And how many other ladies would want to be you right now?” You couldn’t bring yourself to correct him, stating that your mother was proclaimed heir long before he was born, as you were too afraid to make your misery even worse. “Many noble lords would kill for their daughter to take your place,” he said, “you should thank me for only wanting you.”
You swallowed thickly, and your voice betrayed you. Instead of giving him the answer he desired, a pathetic moan slipped past your lips, only topped by your legs buckling beneath your weight at the impact of his words, of his possessiveness. His hand found your throat again, keeping you steady. 
“Lo iksā daor jāre naejot gaomagon skoros vestran, nyke kessa jurnegon syt iā riña bona kessa.” The High Valyrian slipped past his lips with so much ease, the shock on your face was evident. Never before had you heard him speak the tongue of your ancestors, not even knowing if he could speak it. But the smoothness of his voice, and the lack of accent, made it clear the lazy prince had been a dutiful scholar. “Āeksio Borros iksis gīmigon naejot emagon izula tali. Kostilus mēre hen zirȳ kessa gaomagon.” If you are not going to do what I say, I shall look for a lady that will. Lord Borros is known to have four daughters. Perhaps one of them will do. 
Even though no one would know he casted you aside for one of the Four Storms, you resented the thought and the shame it would bring you. “No,” you pleaded, more tears brimming in your eyes, causing your vision to grow blurry. “B–But please let us take this to your chambers,” you whined, “I am scared of someone seeing us.... me.” 
“Silence,” Aegon purred, his tone a stark contrast from the harsh one he had used prior. He bowed his head forwards to nuzzle his nose along your cheek, licking up the tears that had run down, before his lips pressed a kiss to your temple. “But in my apartments no one will know you are mine, sweetling.”
So lost in the softness of his voice and the warmth of his breath, you hardly registered him undoing the laces in his breeches, only just lowered enough for him to free his hard cock. Once that was done, he lifted one of your thighs to wrap it around his hip, which brought you close enough to his cock to feel it prodding against your cunt. 
“We–We can’t,” you tried to protest, wiggling out of his grasp. But Aegon was adamant, keeping his hand locked around your thigh as he solely relied on the hardness of his cock to breach your core instead of using his hand to guide it in. “Not here… please, uncle,” your voice was reduced to a whimper, and the despair audible. A thousand thoughts flashed before your eyes, the most prominent one being either your mother and stepfather, or even Cregan himself, finding you mid-act. 
“I decide where I take you,” he growled your name in a condescending manner, displaying his raw need to prove himself and show the dominance he held over you, “and if I wanted to fuck you in the small council chamber during a meeting, then so be it.”
You released a shuddered breath, and the memories of the delicious stretch his cock brought you clouded your mind to the point you couldn't intervene, only to be revived a split second later with him slowly but surely pushing in. Every ridge and vein of his cock dragged along your inner walls, not making the burning of the stretch any more pleasurable than the countless times he had had you before. 
He tilted your head back to expose your throat to him, allowing him to nibble your skin as he started to thrust his hips into yours. His teeth dragged along your throat over to the curve where your neck met your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he left any marks or not – even if he did, you didn’t care at this point. 
The snaps of his hips weren’t particularly fast or harsh, but deep and determined enough to make your breathing hiccup each time the tip of his cock brushed the sweet spot within you. When one thrust seemed a bit rougher than the others, you released a moan that was a tad too loud for your own liking, but alas, the man in front of you didn’t think so, and was quick to change his pace to coax even louder sounds of pleasure from you. 
“Be quiet,” the silver haired prince teased, yet he didn’t do anything to stifle or mitigate your moans, “we do not want to raise any more attention, do we?” The tone of his voice was so wicked, and you damn well knew that was exactly what he wanted. If anyone was to see you two, nothing would stand in his way to get you all for himself. Not Cregan Stark, and not even your stepfather himself, the Rogue Prince. 
It was far too easy for him to lose himself in you. Despite some people passing you two, exchanging hushed whispers or releasing disgusted gasps, he couldn’t stop entering you over and over as you bit back on every sound of bliss his thrusts issued forth from your lips. 
The hand that cupped your cheek was put behind your head to support it, and allow him to thrust harder into you, each thrust forcing you against the cold stone wall. Perhaps it was the possibility of being caught by your own kin, or being defiled by him so openly, but your peak approached you far too quickly, more so as he adjusted his hips and brought your other leg up around his waist to make his cock reach an angle that had you gasping, whining and clenching around him ever so tightly. 
“Go on,” he rasped, tilting his head forwards slightly to lick a flat stripe from the crook of your neck up to your ear, harshly biting down on your earlobe once. “Be a good girl and wet my cock, niece.”
It seemed that all your encounters before had taught your uncle one valuable lesson, because, when you eventually did what he said and your peak crashed over you with soaring pleasure, he moved his hand to clasp it over your mouth to stifle all the moans and whines that escaped your throat. You were loud when peaking, and perhaps that was even too loud for the corrupted prince. 
“That’s it,” he purred, “making a mess all over my cock. Just how I like it.”
With a grunt, he reached between your bodies to rub your little bud, prolonging your high and intensifying the feeling of your body erupting in flames as your arousal dripped down his twitching cock. 
Your cunt squeezed Aegon tight enough for him to reach his peak with one final thrust, and, when his cock spent itself deep inside of your trembling walls, his hips stilled. It surprised you he didn’t pull out right after, staying nestled inside of you just a few moments longer until his breathing settled back to normal. 
Your senses came back slowly, until it didn’t feel like a haze anymore, and made you terribly aware of what had happened. His hands ran over your arse before he lowered you back on the ground, a smug smirk gracing his features. 
“Do you know that once I am king, I shall fly North to claim what is mine. You. And I do not care if I must burn down Winterfell or feed that Northerner to Sunfyre. I will come and I will take you.” The determination with which he said it rendered you speechless, as it was far from the Aegon you got to know growing up, and you feared for what the future might hold. 
That night in your chambers, when you had changed into a black shift, you stood in front of the mirror and watched your reflection. Upon looking more closely at your neck, you spotted a purplish bruise right at your throat, and it appeared that mayhaps your uncle’s wish might be fulfilled sooner than anticipated when you had to face your mother in the morrow to break your fast.
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gh0stsp1d3r · 2 months
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ℳ𝒾𝓃ℯ
Masterlist
Send Rafe reqs im begging ‼️🌚
Warnings: established relationship, possessiveness, cursing, fight, suggestive at the end
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He watched you dance around with your friends while he stayed at the side, leaning against a wall. You had a smile on your face, and he swirled the cup in his hands around, eyeing you.
He watched you come up to him, leaving your friends in the crowd. You greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, baby.” He mumbled, looking down at you.
“Hi! What are you doing back here? C’mon, have some fun.” Your words were slurred, and you were obviously drunk. He chuckled at your state, putting his own drink down.
“Let’s go home.” He said, knowing damn well you would be complaining tomorrow morning about your hangover.
“What? Why? It’s still-“ you immediately protested.
“Cause you’re drunk, princess.” His hands were on your hips, as you let out a whine.
“Okay, okay, can we leave in like… 20 minutes? My friends are waiting on me.”
He sighed. “Fine. 20 minutes.” He couldn’t say no to you.
“Thank you!! I love you!” You said, giving him one more kiss and leaving him, going back to your friends who all smiled when you came back. He picked back up his drink, shaking his head to himself with a small amused smile on his face.
He let you have fun with your friends, while he talked with his own. His eyes drifted right back to you while they talked.
“Who’s that?” Rafe suddenly asked Kelce, nodding to a boy that had been staring at you the whole time you were on the dance floor. He had a hint of jealousy in his eyes.
“Oh, that’s Ethan. His family moved in like last month. He’s an asshole.” He mumbled the last part under his breath, taking a sip of the drink.
Rafe’s grip on his cup tightened, crushing it. Kelce furrowed his eyebrows and looked at where he was looking.
You were smiling and laughing with one of your friends while he made his way behind you, one of your friends pointed him out and you turned to see the boy.
“Hey!” He said, the music drowning out his voice.
“Hi?” You said, a little confused at him. You’ve never seen him before, and your friend told you he was just checking you out.
“Are you single?!” He shouted.
“No.” You scoffed, terrible question to ask. You turned back to your friend.
Thankfully, you didn’t seem interested in the man, Rafe thought. But the boy just looked around, and came even closer, his body pressing against yours.
You furrowed your eyebrows, elbowing the man off of you. Rafe was furious at this point, and without a second thought, stormed over, pushing past the crowd.
“C’mon, don’t be such a-.” He groaned, holding his stomach. His sentence being interrupted when Rafe came over. The partygoers watched, knowing something was going down.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Rafe said, his hands moved faster than his brain did, and he punched the man. The man groaned and began to fight back, shoving Rafe.
Rafe pushed Ethan onto the ground, getting on top of him and landing multiple blows to his face. His face was bloody, the people yelled and shouted, he didn’t care.
“Rafe! Rafe!” You attempted to get him off, afraid that he would kill the guy at this point.
He only got off when you grabbed his arm, pulling him up and he panted as the man cried out, still on the floor.
You just yanked his arm, signaling to him that you both needed to leave.
You left at the right time, you thought as you heard sirens going towards the house. You drove, yelling at Rafe who was completely silent the whole way.
“What the fuck, I mean what the fuck?! Are you trying to kill someone, Rafe?” You spoke, parking the car as you pulled up to his driveway, you turned to look at him now.
“That was insane. You’re fucking insan-“ he cut you off by crashing his lips into yours, his hands gripping your face. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and his hand left a trail of blood on your cheeks.
His hand remained there even when you pulled away.
“He was fuckin’ checking you out the whole time! Just had to show him, them all, what’s mine.” He seethed, and you hated to admit it but he was hot when he was angry.
You opened your mouth to speak again but he kissed you again, shutting you up. His lips moved against yours, and he breathed heavily as he left the kiss.
He looked at you and you knew exactly what it meant. You smiled ever so slightly and you both went into the backseat of the car, thank God for the window tint.
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lowkeyren · 8 days
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iridescent engravings!
in which — during the annual ball that was held with the sole purpose of finding a suitable candidate to be sunday’s future spouse, you (reluctantly) attended with no intention of winning his heart yet you were the only one he laid his eyes on the whole night.
pairing — sunday x gn!reader
༊*·˚✧.* — wc: 1k, unestablished relationship, love at first sight is real guys, idk why this took so long for me to write but it's finally here!!! likes and reblogs r appreciated, please enjoy <3
elegant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling; with a hesitant sigh, you stepped on the polished marble floors, making your way into the ballroom. having received an invitation from the family around a week ago, and though you had initially baulked at the invitation, the prospect of declining without causing offense had left you with little choice but to attend.
it's just for a few hours, right… i'll be fine.
the sounds of violins accompanied by pianos filled the air as guests engaged in light conversations with each other. there was an obvious crowd surrounding the main star of the night. sunday was dressed in a refined and elegant suit, exuding effortless grace that seemed to radiate from every movement. you glanced at him, poor guy you think, he's surrounded by endless hordes of guests trying to make a good impression, seemingly never getting a moment to himself, he barely even has space to breathe! 
you were too busy staring and you almost dropped your glass of wine as he happened to look over and lock eyes with you. 
those mesmerizing eyes of his.
you quickly regained your composure and took a sip of your wine, silently praying that the night would end quicker. yet throughout the whole night, you couldn't help but feel eyes boring into your back, it felt like someone was watching you, but when you looked around, everyone was minding their own business. perhaps you’re just getting self-conscious here.
you kept to yourself mostly, except for a few occasions where some of your acquaintances had come up to you, you guys chatted for a bit and they left as quickly as they came. but still, you can't shake off that ominous feeling, it felt unsettling. 
as the night wore on, you walked through the crowd, twirling the wine glass in your hands, the liquid swaying around, threatening to spill out. scanning the area, you spotted sunday across the room, seemed like this time you caught him staring instead. though neither of you broke eye contact, the weight of sunday's gaze bore down on you as you navigated through the crowd, the silent exchange of glances speaking volumes without a single word being uttered. 
he thinks you’re lovely, truly. the most gorgeous one he ever laid his eyes on, and frankly, he ever will. he never wants to take his eyes off of you, not even for a moment.
despite the distance between you, the intensity of his stare drew you in like a magnet. the tension in the air seemed to thicken, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach, his eyes pierced through the air and stayed firmly locked onto yours. 
with each step he took, the distance between you shrunk, until finally, he stood before you, his sole presence left you breathless. (he is the most handsome man in penacony after all) his voice, smooth and angelic, broke through the silence as he greeted you with a charming smile, his words washed over you like a gentle breeze on a warm summer's night.
you tried your best to maintain your composure, subconsciously smoothing out your attire, you could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks. you could particularly smell the jealousy from the people around you. but none of that mattered. you allowed yourself to be swept away by sunday’s hypnotising eyes and alluring words. 
“may i?”, he extends his hand, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. before you could fully comprehend the implications, your instinctive response slips past your lips.
"of course," the words escaping before your brain could catch up with your heart. you place your hand in his. with a gentle squeeze of your hand, you think he's going to lead you to the dance floor, what you didn't expect was for him to deftly slide a ring onto your index finger. a gasp escapes your lips and many others too. the delicate ring adorns your finger, it seems like it was made just for you, fitting perfectly. 
the soft strains of music enveloping you like a warm embrace as he gently leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss onto your fingers. around you, the murmurs of the other guests fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in time, lost in the moment.
“mr sunday, a moment please… it's urgent!”, the interruption jolts you back to reality, sunday's gaze flickers briefly in the direction of the voice, the servant shrinks in fear as he gives you an apologetic smile. prominent annoyance crossing sunday’s features before he turns his attention back to you, his expression softening once more.
"stay here, wait for me." he whispers, his voice tingling with regret as he reluctantly releases your hand. with one last glance, he stepped away, leaving you standing alone amidst the murmurs of the other guests, the sensation of his touch still raw on your skin.
you touch the ring on your finger, feeling your heart thump loudly. this wasn't how you had envisioned the night unfolding—your intention had never been to win his heart, yet somehow, he had given it to you anyway.
sunday wasn’t paying attention to whatever the servant was saying, his focus was solely fixed on you, admiring you, captivated by how adorable you looked as you inspected the ring with faint blush painting your cheeks. sunday's eyes trace the curve of your lips, with you standing there amidst the grandeur of the ballroom, he thinks you look far more majestic than any shall ever compare.
a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his chest swelling with a warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. an infatuation that seems to grow stronger with each passing heartbeat. and the ring, a promise of something more to come, you just need to wait for him.
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dear-bunnyboo · 9 months
Text
𝐈𝐃𝐆𝐀𝐅 || 𝐉𝐎𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖
i am suffering from the worst writers block ever! i only really had inspiration to write this fic in general so updates on my other requests and fics will take a little more time :)
IDGAF means “i don’t give a fuck” by the way for those who don’t know. I also had to research an appropriate job description this reader can brag about, enjoy! ;)
����𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joe Burrow x Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You notice the Bengals’ new staff member flirting with your boyfriend, however, Joe thinks that you are acting childish for saying so— you decide to show Joe that you didn't give a fuck.
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 18+ mature content, cursing, in denial!Joe, light angst, fluff, flirting, arguing, jealousy?, established relationship, party setting, mentions of alcohol consumption, slight sexual tension, some dirty talking, smut?, pda, allusion to sex, sexual tension, no cheating!, badass!reader, slight groveling, paparazzi
𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐜. 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 || 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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The speakers were blaring all throughout the club— the colorful flashing lights danced across each and everyone’s skin as it circles the place.
Sitting with your legs crossed you giggled as you listened to one of your closest friend rant about a recent embarrassing moment that happened to her at her office— you are currently surrounded by the entire Cincinnati Bengals team at the VIP area of the club— the staff, crew, coaches, players, and their significant others celebrating their win at the AFC Championship not long ago.
You were sitting prettily next to a couple of WAGs wearing a copper halter neck jumpsuit that hugged your body in the right places, showcasing your curves while accentuating your height— alternating from taking a sip from your drink and nodding to what your friends were discussing, not long after, you felt a familiar warm heat land on your upper thigh.
Looking to your right, you were met with your boyfriend, Joe who was busy speaking with Sam and Tee— his eyes trained on them, however, his large hands was on your right thigh, running his hands up and down, occasionally squeezing it from time to time.
Joe was a very private person especially when it comes to his personal life. So he is not the type of guy who would do PDA and you were okay with that— it was never really your goal to flaunt your relationship with Joe out in the open— in fact, you enjoy the moments you have in private, the Joe you and only you can see.
“You should send me that video. It sounds way too good to be true.” you chucked, brushing the strands of your hair away from your face as you jokingly pointed at your friend— teasing her about the failed tiktok she attempted to do in her office that her boss caught her doing.
“If I do, you’ll have to do it with me.” She laughs.
Before you could reply back, Joe interrupted you from your conversation, “Babe, I’d like you to meet someone.” He said.
Turning to look at your boyfriend, you were met with an unfamiliar redhead.
“This is, Stacie— she is the new athletic trainer of the team.” Joe introduced her.
Getting a good look at the girl, she was pretty, Stacie was a little bit shorter than you, with red hair that was curled behind her, she was wearing a white dress, and she had a huge smile on her face that rubbed you the wrong way— you were all for women supporting women but you can smell bitches from a mile away.
It’s a talent.
It was a self defense mechanism.
You grew up in a well-off family— that only meant fake friends, fake love, fake sympathies, fake laughs— fake smiles. Growing up in such way you have learned to spot the difference from the people who genuinely enjoy your company and the people who wanted to be best friends because your dad drove a Rolls Royce.
“Hi, Stacie. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.” you greeted her with a soft smile that funnily enough was as fake as hers.
“Do you also work for the Bengals? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around the facility.” Stacie asked, turning her head to look at you and then at Joe.
“No, I don’t work there— I’m Joe’s girlfriend.”
And just like that her plastered smile faltered by a second— a twitch that only you managed to catch.
“Stacie has been helping me with my knee a lot.” Your boyfriend chimes in making the redhead peer up at the quarterback in awe at the acknowledgment, you could practically hear her purring.
Shaking your head off those thoughts, you took a deep breath and managed to give Stacie a real smile, “Thank you, I’m glad he’s in good hands.” I nodded at her, cause at the end of the day, she was good at her job— she wouldn’t be qualified for hire if she wasn’t. That’s all you cared about— that Joe was being taken care of, especially when it comes to his injuries.
You trusted Joe with every ounce of your being and he trusted you— there was no reason for you to nitpick on every little detail you find off from that woman. You trusted your boyfriend’s judgement, and knowing Joe, you know how hard it is for him to trust people as well— so as long as he thinks she’s cool then you’re cool.
You were rising above.
“Oh, he’s in very good hands.” Stacie giggled before running her hand up and down your boyfriend’s bicep.
Looking towards Joe, he simply chucked in response.
You could feel your eye twitch.
You were rising above— You repeated in your head as if it was some sort of mantra.
Joe was being nice. That’s it. He is a nice man.
“So, Y/N, right? Let me tell you— I have been enjoying my time as an AT for the Bengals. Joe has been doing so well and has helped me feel right at home.” She giggles again before continuing, “I’m sorry, I’m talking too much about myself. How about you? What do you do?” She asks.
What do I do?— Joe fucking Burrow that’s what.
“I’m a creative director” you sipped on your drink side eyeing Joe as he laughs with Ja’marr— still refusing to acknowledge the fact that Stacie’s hand was still on him.
“Aw, that’s cute. For who?” she raised her eyebrow, taunting you as she feigned interest.
“Vogue.”
That seems to shut her up for the meantime.
You weren’t one to brag about the achievements and blessings in your life but she was pushing your last buttons— Joe included.
“I’ll go grab a drink.” Stacie told Joe as if he cared where she was headed.
You silently watched her walk towards the bartender before making your way closer to Joe who turned towards you in time. Your boyfriend eyed you up and down before placing a kiss on the temple of your forehead.
“You look like you were having fun with Stacie, If I wasn’t mistaken it seems like you found another best friend, huh?” Joe moved closer towards you as you stoically stared at him.
“It sounds like you are mistaken cause I wasn’t having fun at all.” You said to him in a lighthearted way, almost sarcastic as you watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion.
“You’re not having fun, baby?” Joe questions circling his arms around your waist.
“I was having fun— not with her though and I don’t think we’ll be friends anytime soon.” You shrugged not bothering to explain as you laid your head on his chest.
“What do you mean?”
Rolling your eyes, you lifted your head to look back up at the quarterback, “Joe, she clearly has a thing for you, she’s been flirting at you the entire time— right in front of my face too.” you sighed.
Joe simply shook him head, “She wasn’t, babe. She was just being nice.”
“Oh, I didn’t know being nice involved caressing someone’s bicep in front of that someone’s girlfriend.” You said sarcastically as you pushed yourself off of Joe’s embrace.
“Babe, she’s a touchy person that’s it. That doesn’t mean she was flirting.” Joe runs his hand across his hair frustratedly as he stared at you. You don’t know why Joe is deciding to act stupid— it was either he was playing stupid or he was just stupid and you hoped for it to be the latter— which concluded to Joe being stupid.
You eyed your boyfriend’s innocence, yeah, let’s call it that. Chuckling, you gave Joe a look, “Joe, baby, she’s flirting— hundred percent. She looks at you as if you cured cancer and I don’t blame her. Hell, millions of people look at you that way, Joe and I’m fine with that. My problem with her is the fact that not only was she disrespecting you with her touching but she was also disrespecting me by doing so.”
“Joe, I don’t mind her liking you— I trust you and I know for a fact that you won’t do anything to destroy that trust but what I cannot take is disrespect, Joey you know that.” you finished softly, hoping your boyfriend could take a hint.
“I know that, baby— but I’m just saying she’s a friend who is being friendly that’s it.”
Joe was being stubborn and you don’t think that screaming at him in public was technically “rising above”.
Before you could reply back, Stacie nudges her way between you and Joe— the redhead now had her arms wrapped around your boyfriend’s neck, making Joe lean down to her height so that she can whisper whatever to his ear.
You were pretty sure you had steam coming out of your ears as you watched Joe let her do whatever to him. It takes time for Joe to warm up to people, it took you a year of friendship for him to be even comfortable with you touching him— platonically even.
Now watching your boyfriend have absolutely no problem letting a woman he just met touch him is hurting you.
Zach Taylor calls Stacie over to introduce her to more people, ultimately leaving you and Joe in your seats as you listened to the pumping music in the background that accompanied the ringing in your ear.
“Wow, am I third-wheeling?” you joked, trying to mask the pain and anger lingering in your voice but to no avail it shows.
“What are you talking about, baby?” Joe turns back towards you with a confused yet frustrated look on his face which was pissing you off even more.
“Don’t fucking baby me, Joseph. What the fuck was that? You just let her touch you like that it front of me? I don’t know if you’ve been tackled way too hard today but you have seem to forget that I’m your girlfriend.” You argued, silently thanking the loud music for masking your voice and the dark lights for hiding your now pissed off look.
There were fans all around the bar— thankfully they were outside the VIP lounge but that didn’t stop them from taking pictures and videos of their favorite NFL players— you didn’t need videos of you and Joe fighting in public.
“Again with this? Y/N, seriously you’re being childish— stop being so fucking jealous and for the last time she’s being friendly.” Joe grunts as he finishes his entire drink in frustration.
Childish and jealous
Childish is what your so-called friends would call you back in high school when you confronted them for using you for money. Childish is what they called you when you refused to be their friend anymore. Childish is what your boyfriend of four years calls you for after defending a bitch that was flirting with him.
And jealous?
Bitch please. You were never jealous. Not once were you jealous of anyone in your life. You were the only child in a wealthy family— you had loving parents who spoiled you, you went to the best schools, had the best clothes, you have the best job that people will kill for, you have real friends that cared about you, as much as Joe was pissing you off— he was the best boyfriend.
You weren’t jealous of her, she was jealous of you.
You love Joe with all your being but if he even thinks about cheating on you with her or anyone in that matter— then they can have him.
Yes, he’s the Joe Burrow. The number one overall draft pick, the star player and quarterback of Cincinnati Bengals— but you were you, you were simply better.
And you’ve had it— having the Joe Burrow as your boyfriend has its ups and downs and you've learned to navigate through it together after years and years but this was something Joe needs to figure this out alone since he wants to act dumb.
Joe Burrow have officially crossed you in a way he hasn’t before and after this you know he’s gonna wish he hadn’t.
“Ok. I’m gonna go dance.” you said nonchalantly before leaving your boyfriend alone more confused now than ever as he watches you leave with the a few WAGs to the dance floor which was filled with people.
“Girl, are you ok? That Stacie was flirting with Joe so hard. Did you talk to him?”
“What did Joe say?”
“I swear to God if she makes a move on my man next — she’s gonna get fired.”
“Did you you two fight?”
All the questions being thrown you as you all danced in your own circle. You gave them a brief rundown of what happened they stared at you shocked.
“So? What are you gonna do?” One of them asked.
“Absolutely nothing.” You smiled as you moved your hips around to the beat.
“What?!” A collective response was met with a smirk on your face.
“He’s gonna figure it out all on his own— as of now, I don’t give a fuck.”
As you took on if the girls’ hands, dancing together to Reminder by The Weeknd which was ironically perfect for your situation— you felt heat from the side of your head, you didn’t need to turn around to know that Joe was staring at you— you wanted him to.
“Y/N, Joe is undressing you with his eyes.” one of your friends says nodding towards Joe.
You simply gave her a grin, “I’m hot. Who wouldn’t, honestly?”
“Miss Stacie looks like a kicked puppy and Joe is sat far away from her— seems like your plan is working.”
Of course it is.
You knew that without you next to Joe that Stacie would make her move— that gave your boyfriend all the time in the world to realize that you were right all along.
You feigned innocence, still dancing and singing to the song as one of your friends started to film you and the others.
“Ever time you try to forget who I am, I’ll be right there to remind you again— you know me~” you sang to the camera.
As you continued to dance, Joe couldn’t help but stare at you— a cloud of emotion lingering in him. He was very much in love with you and how good you are at moving your hips, he was guilty for calling childish and arguing with you, he was angry at himself for not believing you, he was also thoroughly furious at Stacie.
As soon as you left to dance, after replying to him unemotionally that scared that absolute shit out of him— Stacie immediately latched onto his side, giggling over something she found amusing that Joe seems to find himself not caring.
“Joe you look really good in this.” She says leaning towards him as she twirled her finger around his chest which ultimately rang red alarms all over Joe’s head— taunting him almost.
“Thanks” Joe says clearly uncomfortable as he politely moved her away from him but to his surprise she moved again towards him again, her mouth now on his ears as she whispered, “Do you wanna go somewhere more quiet, Joey?”
That was it for Joe.
He pushed her off him and quickly stood up— and glared at the redhead, the same redhead he defended to his girlfriend who was convinced she was disrespectful for flirting with him— and she was right.
Y/N is always right and Joe hated himself for not believing his girlfriend of four years.
“Stacie, I have a girlfriend who is not far from here and overall, you technically work for me, so this is unprofessional.” Joe said firmly to the redhead who just stared at him like she didn’t care.
Maybe because she didn’t.
“So? That’s why I asked you if we could go somewhere quiet. No one has to know.” She smirked.
And just like that he lost all the respect he has for her.
“I love my girlfriend and you both disrespected me and her. I’ll be talking with Zach in the morning about this— this is against a lot of the companies rules. I’ll also request for Zach to assign me a different AT— goodbye.” He turned his back towards her and sat himself in between Tee, Sam and Ja’marr who laughed at him.
“Took you long enough.” Ja’marr shook his head looking at him.
“What? How did you know?” The quarterback asks his friends who looked at him as if he was stupid.
He was.
“Everyone could see her flirting with you, man. It was painfully obvious— Zach already said he’s gonna talk to Stacie tomorrow. Don’t think she’ll have a job in the morning.” Ja’marr explained before chugging his drink down.
“And you didn’t bother telling me?” Joe asked exasperated, disbelief in his face as he stared at his friends.
“First of all, you’re a grown man— you should have figured out yourself a long time ago and secondly, your girlfriend told us not to do anything and according to her ‘to let you figure it out’” Tee explained doing air quotes with his fingers.
“She told you?”
“Yeah, we threatened to beat you up when we saw Stacie on you but your girl had other plans.”
Joe remained stunned thoughts circling his head as he watched you grind you hips against the other girls.
“Stop drooling and apologize to her, man.” Sam snapped Joe out of his viewing experience.
Without a second thought Joe’s long legs took him right behind you in just a few strides.
You didn’t need to see who was behind you to know that Joe was towering over you— a familiar heat draws you to him like magnetic, that and your friends gave you cheeky grins and winks before dispersing across the club.
However, you kept your back towards him, refusing acknowledge his presence. Knowing Joe, you knew that he was gonna take you somewhere private and quiet to talk— away from people seeing but to your surprise, Joe wraps his arms around you making you stiffen up before relaxing in his hold.
Joe was dancing behind you.
Good Lord— your handsomely hot boyfriend’s 6’4 stature was grinding onto you from behind.
What in the literal fuck.
“Joe wha– what are you doing?” You managed to choke out as you fought a moan coming out of your mouth as you felt his now hard length grind on your ass.
“Do you feel that? Huh, baby? That’s what you do to me, Y/N.” Joe breathes out into your hair.
“I know but why here? Let’s go somewhere els–” you rushed not wanting your boyfriend to feel obligated to do such things despite his discomfort in public display of affection.
“No. Baby I want to. You’re right, you’re right, you’re right. I’m so sorry, baby. You’re right about everything and I realize that now— you don’t have to worry about her anymore, I’ve dealt with it, my love.”
Turning around to face Joe, you see the sincerity, the vulnerability, the guilt, and anger in his eyes.
You knew he meant every word.
“I was never worried about her. I was worried about you.” You simply answered him, giving him a tight lipped smile, making him lean his forehead onto yours— determined more now than ever to see your real smile.
“I’m sorry for not believing you, I’m sorry for arguing with you and calling you such things, I’m sorry for making you think that I didn’t care— I do, baby. I love you so much.” Joe just kept on going, hoping to see your bright smile back up at him again.
“It hurt you know. It took me years to get you to be comfortable with me— and that’s only for our friendship but then watching you be so comfortable with her in such a short amount of time— it hurt.” you confessed, fiddling with your fingers as you watch the pain fill Joe’s face in the realization.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I’m sorry— but did you know why I was so uncomfortable with you touching me when we first started hanging out? It was because I was crushing on you hard, Y/N. I new it was you the moment we became friends and every time you hugged me, touched me, kissed me, it felt like I would go insane— I still do.”
Joe caresses your arms as he explains, slowly placing them around his neck as he swayed the two of you slowly— the two of you in your little corner of the club, the dancing bodies of strangers now became nothing but the background.
It was just you and Joe.
“But you know what I realized? Fuck it. I’m sorry it took me four years but fuck it. Who cares if they see us dancing in public? Who cares if videos of us touching each other reaches the internet? Everyone knows we’re dating— who cares? They should be worried about what we do in private.” Joe rants to himself mostly before whispering the last part in your ear— his soft lips kissing your earlobe before making its way down to your neck.
Joe licks and sucks onto the most sensitive part of your neck— marking you for the world to see, knowing very well the amount of fans and paparazzi were waiting for them outside.
“Let me take you home, Y/N. So that everyone will know your mine if they don’t already— I want all of them to know, the fans, the media, that bitch Stacie.” Joe continues before placing a wet kiss on your mouth, your tongues both fighting for dominance, teeth clashing as your lips gets sucked between his— Joe’s hands caressing every part of your body.
“I love you, please let me show you how much.” Joe practically begs making your squeeze your legs together even more.
“Take me home then.” you challenged a devilish smile forming on your face.
And before you know it, Joe was dragging you out of the club not even bothering to say goodbye to everyone— once you and Joe reached the outside, you were greeted by cameras taking pictures of you and Joe— your boyfriend keeps you locked in between his arms as you two navigated towards his car, heading home for the next party to begin.
You were right about one thing today: That Stacie was a two-faced bitch.
However, Joe was right about two things today: One, is the paparazzi did in fact wrote articles about the fresh hickeys on your neck as you and Joe raced out of the club disheveled, ultimately causing a stir in the media— and two, he did in fact love you very very very much and he showed you in a lot of different ways.
;)
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spaceycowboys · 2 years
Text
starry eyes sparking up my darkest night
pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader
summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 
warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?
notes: i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift
word count: 5.3k
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The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.
You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.
An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.
You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.
“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.
Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”
Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”
“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.
You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.
“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”
Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?
Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”
She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.
“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.
“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.
Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.
As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.
The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”
And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.
“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?
Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”
Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly
“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”
Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.
“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.
“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”
                              ��                         εїз
Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.
Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.
You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.
Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.
You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.
Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.
His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.
His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.
You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.
He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.
Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.
“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.
“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.
“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.
You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”
Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.
His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.
Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.
His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.
Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.
“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.
When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.
You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.
“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.
His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.
Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.
He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?
“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”
You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.
“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”
Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“
His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”
His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.
“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.
Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.
You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.
You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.
After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.
When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.
Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.
“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.
He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”
You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”
He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.
“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.
Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.
With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.
You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.
Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.
“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.
This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”
His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”
Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.
“Oh, gods.”
It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.
A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.
“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.
His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.
“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.
Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.
“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.
You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.
Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.
Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.
“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”
You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.
You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.
The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.
A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.
There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.
A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”
“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.
“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.
“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.
“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.
It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.
“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.
“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.
“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.
“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.
His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.
Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”
He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.
“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.
His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“
“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.
With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.
Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.
He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.
He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.
“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.
His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.
He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.
An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.
The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.
When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”
A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.
With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.
His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.
You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“
His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”
His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.
He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.
“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”
He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.
He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.
A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.
He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.
Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.
His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.
“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.
You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.
“I don’t think-“
Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.
His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.
You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              
He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.
His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.
Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.
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itsphoenix0724 · 8 months
Text
Promises (Rhysand x Reader)
Summary: You don't argue with your husband often, and never anything as serious as this. However, some things may be too hard to come back from.
Warnings: ANGST, mentions of Rhys' trauma from under the mountain
Word Count: 1.7k
Part 2
A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first time writing for Rhys, but I apologize; this isn't the happiest thing! This takes place during ACOMAF, and I tried to keep it canon accurate. I may have diverged a little though! I really just needed to get some angst out from first week of school stress lol. If you ever want to interact with me my requests are open! As always constructive criticism is very welcome! I tried to makes this a realistic portrayl of real feelings and emotions. I hope you all enjoy even if it stamps on your heart a bit <3
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You’re sitting at the dinner table in the Townhouse, nursing a glass of wine, when you feel your Husband’s power rumble into your bones. It normally feels comforting to you, but now all it does is further the knot of anxiety growing in your stomach.
It’s been a long week. 
It was the first time that Rhys had called in his bargain with Feyre. You’ll always be eternally grateful for what Feyre did for your family, for your court, and the entirety of Prythian. It still didn’t stop the ugly jealousy that clawed at your insides at Rhys spending the week away from you with her. Especially after you learned about the dancing. You knew why it had to happen, you really did. He had explained everything to you in the tearful reunion after he returned from under the mountain. 
You hope Amarantha burned in whatever hell she crawled out from. 
“How was your first week,” you take another gulp of wine, trying to drown the spiders crawling up your throat. 
“I think she’s making some progress. Tamlin isn’t even teaching her how to read! Can you believe that? Even after he saw it almost kill her and his supposedly beloved emissary.” He rubbed out the crease forming between his eyebrows, maneuvering around the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of whiskey. “She was paper thin and so so pale.” he shook his head as he knocked back the liquor. 
“You didn’t come home the whole time.” You tried your best to keep the venom tamped down in your voice, you weren’t even really angry just confused. Judging by the way the muscles in his back tensed your endeavor had not been successful. 
You knew he would have to call in this bargain eventually you just didn’t expect him to ignore you the entire time she was here. He could’ve taken you with him, you had even expressed interest in meeting Feyre. You had wanted to thank her personally for everything she did to you and extend an olive branch for her time in your court. Rhys had shut down the idea immediately because he thought she might have been overwhelmed. 
“What is that supposed to mean?” he turned around and looked at you from his spot leaning against the counter. You didn’t look at him, staring straight at the grooves on the table. You sensed the defensive tone immediately. Rhys almost looks like a cat with all the hair raised on its back. Feline eyes sizing you up like he’s about to pounce on you.
“I just don’t understand why you couldn’t have come home to even sleep. When I tried to reach you mind to mind your shields were up.” Your nails dig into the wood, leaving crescent marks in the pine. Rhys doesn’t have an answer for that when you meet his eyes. It almost looks like he’s looking through you instead of at you. 
“I didn’t want to leave her alone in case she tried to jump out a window.” He says the answer matter-of-factly. It’s the same tone you heard him use during the conferences he held with the citizens. He wasn’t exactly brushing you off, but it didn’t feel like he was listening to you either. 
“Why couldn’t you have just told me that?” Your voice cracked. You have been married to Rhys for almost one hundred years. You could tell when he was being shifty, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was hiding something from you. Judging from that regretful look in his eye you were correct. 
“I thought you would react poorly. Clearly, I was correct.” The clipped tone is enough to send a white-hot bolt of anger through your body. 
“Do not blame your poor communication skills on me Rhysand.” The glare you fixed him with could have brought the monster that lurks in the bottom of the library to its knees, but Rhys just met your eyes with a steeled look of his own. 
“She needed help. She was begging somebody to come rescue her. She was withering away in the Spring Court! You know how many times I’ve been pulled from bed because she’s vomiting during the night-” Rhys sounded exasperated. But you were tired, so tired. 
“You’ve barely come to bed since you’ve been back.” Your voice was hardly more than a whisper, but the deafening silence that followed your words made it sound like an explosion. You knew it was a low blow. Rhys sometimes couldn’t stomach sleeping in your bed after what Amarantha did to him. After he was startled awake one night a bolt of his power shot your sleeping form out of the bed because, in his nightmare-filled haze, he had mistaken you for her. He had felt awful, and now mostly slept in one of the guest rooms in fear that he would cause serious damage to you. You had tried to convince him, but he knew how powerful he could be, so you relented. 
“You don’t get to throw that in my face right now.” The growl that came from your husband sounded like cold black death. “She needs to be trained. She needs help-” all the pent-up emotion started to boil over inside you. Your airway got smaller, white noise was sounding through your head, and your eyes couldn’t focus on a spot infront of you. 
“I DO NOT CARE WHAT FEYRE NEEDS!” the boom in your voice surprised even you. Rhys took a step back, you rarely even raised your voice, let alone yelled at him. His eyes widened, but his flood of emotions quickly matched yours. 
“SHE SAVED ME! I PROMISED TO KEEP HER SAFE!” The way Rhy’s voice ricocheted off the walls made you flinch. The pure night-kissed power had stolen the warmth from the room and all the air from your lungs. 
“You made promises to me too. Do you remember that?” your voice echoed out with calm fury as you slipped your ring off your finger and held it up to the light. “Do you remember the promises you made to me when you put this ring on my finger?” You didn’t even know where the rage was coming from, You weren’t angry, but it grabbed ahold like cold unforgiving ocean waves and kept pulling you farther into the eye of the hurricane. “You pledged to me your undying loyalty, your faithfulness, your honesty.” That last word coated your tongue in acid. 
It burned you and Rhys as it left your mouth. 
“Do you truly believe I have been unfaithful to you?” his voice grated out like shards of glass. However, in your current state, it seemed more condescending than questioning. 
“I believe you are not being honest with me. I have been married to you for practically 100 years, and have known you even longer. Do you think I don’t know when you’re not telling me something?”  You shot up from your seat and slammed your wedding ring on the table. His violet shield slipped for just a moment to see the hurt flash in his eyes. You haven’t taken that ring off since he gave it to you. 
“You are being irrational.” Rhys tried to step towards you, but you only backed away from him, shaking your head as tears welled up in your eyes. 
“Why are you being so secretive about Feyre? She is engaged Rhys-you took her from her wedding. If she truly needed help why not bring her to Velaris? Why not let her meet me? Why not let her be happy with Tamlin?” The questions kept pouring out but the protective growl Rhysand made at your last statement had you recoiling. He had given himself away. He obviously knew it too, as he tried to step towards you. The tears kept pouring out as you shook your head. “You need to tell me what’s going on. Right now.” Rhys finally hung his head in defeat as he slumped into one of the chairs. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands as he stared at your trembling figure from the other side of the table. 
“She is my mate.” Your eyes widened in horror. It felt like the dinner you made earlier tonight was going to make another appearance on your kitchen floor. “She is my mate and I don’t know what to do.” 
“What do you mean you don’t know what to do?” Your voice was shaking with scarcely contained fury as you stormed up to the table. “I am your wife. I am your people’s queen. What more is there to think about? I thought you loved me.” A new wave of tears washed over you, and you swear you could hear your heart breaking. It was so loud. You wonder if Rhys could hear it too. 
“Of course I love you!” he looked at you with desperation and pleading in his eyes. “It’s just more complicated.” You shook your head at him as your sobs finally flowed out of your body. 
“It shouldn’t be complicated,” you heaved out through the tears “You promised to choose me every day. If you can’t do that I can’t be here.” You turn from the table and march up the stairs. You distantly hear Rhys get up and follow you to your room as you shove clothes inside a bag. 
“What are you doing? You’re not leaving, are you?” His eyes widened in horror as he tried to grab the items out of your hands. “Darling-”
“Do not call me that right now.” You manage to sniff out the words behind the tears. “I just can’t be here if you cannot choose me. There shouldn’t even be a question.” 
“Where will you go?” He at least had it in him to sound concerned about your well-being. 
“I don’t know, anywhere but here.” You shoved the last thing in your suitcase and winnowed away without another word. You left Rhysand in your house, with your ring sitting on the table. He found himself sitting at the kitchen table for the rest of the night, nursing a bottle of whisky and running over the cool sapphire with the pad of his thumb. He didn’t know if you were ever coming back. He didn’t know where you went. 
What the fuck had he done?
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justreadingfics · 3 months
Text
Sensitive Topic - A "Looking For a Heartbeat" One-Shot
Words: 4k+
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Six years have passed since Bucky and you got back together. You are married and you’re pregnant with your second child. Everything’s great. Until a very sensitive topic from your past comes back to haunt you.
Warnings: 18+, Smut, Jealousy, Angst, Fluff, Mention of Past Relationships, Part of a Series, Pregnancy kink, Pregnancy sex.
Based on this request: Smutty idea:
Sometime after they got back together, Reader goes through a brief period where she feels insecure about Bucky and Anna's past relationship and intimacy, so Bucky shows her all the ways in which he only ever touched and made love to Reader, not Anna.
A/N: Thank you Anon for the request/idea (sorry for taking so long), and thank you @flordeamatista for being such an amazing beta.
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It's been six years.
Six. Fucking. Years.
You keep telling that to yourself, sitting on the couch of your shared apartment, running your hand with a wedding ring over your swelling belly.
You are married and pregnant with your second child with him.
And he loves you.
You.
So why the hell is your mind drifting back to that particular topic… that very sensitive topic, making your nerves burn with that twisted little feeling in your gut?
Jealousy…
Maybe you can blame it on the mess of hormones you’ve been going through. You don’t remember being quite like that when you were pregnant with Summer, your first child. The mood swings weren't constant then.
This second pregnancy, though, has been all about feelings swirling inside you unbidden. One second you could be laughing and dancing with Summer at one of her cartoons, the next you would be bawling your eyes out at the same fucking cartoon.
All of your feelings are mixed up. This one right here being the newest addition to the pack.
And it sucks. It so fucking sucks.
10 minutes before…
A light humming escapes your lips as you set the lemonade jar and glass on the trail. A smile plasters  your face as you grab the set and head towards the new room.
The new baby’s nursery.
Your second daughter. 
Well, he doesn't know it's a daughter. With Summer, your first, he chose to discover the sex, while you preferred to wait. Now he chose otherwise while you knew the sex. 
You can't wait to see his face when he sees a baby girl. He’s such an amazing dad to Summer and already is for this one, whose name you still must figure out. You have yet to talk about the options, but between your work with the Avengers and his own as a stay at home dad (as he so proudly likes to call himself), time is short. Just now, he’s taking the little time Summer is at School to work on the new nursery.
Jesus, that firecracker of a girl is already a handful.With two of them, what are you and Bucky going to do? The thought makes you smile fondly.
Your memory flashes back to six years ago, when you were preparing lemonade for Bucky and Steve, who were working on Summer's bedroom.But that time you weren’t married still. 
God…you had no idea what you two were at that time, practically living together, pining for each other like crazy, but none of you daring to step further, too scared to do so.
The memory makes you smile harder. You almost kissed him while he felt Summer kicking, placing his hands on your belly for the first time… only to be cockblocked by Steve…
Now, looking at the life you two have built together, that time seems like it happened ages ago. Another life. You know now that everything happened as it should be and you’re exactly where you are supposed to be. 
With him and your little family.
And well, no Steve this time, you chuckle to yourself pushing the door to the nursery with your elbow.
The view before you makes you suck in the chuckle down your throat.
Bucky.
Your husband.
Shirtless.
Sweaty back to you as he’s up on a ladder, finishing to stick the teddy bear’s wallpaper. Pants hang low on his slim waist. Back muscles flex with the movement of his arms.
His fucking hair half loose half pulled back in a high bun. Like a damn warrior… an extremely hot one.  
Goddammit.That man knows how to make your throat dry and you breath hitch without even trying. A sweet little coil twists your belly and lower. The tray feels heavy in your hands while your thoughts turn into images of you running your tongue up the muscles of his back to his neck, wrapping your arms around his broad frame and feeling his warmth against yours.
That’s when it hits.
And everything shifts.
Did she ever do that to him?
Did she ever touch him like that?
Did he like it when she touched him?
The mere thought is unbearable, agonizing.Cold lodges in your chest, freezing out all the growing heat you just felt. 
You don’t wait to see if he knew you were there before you leave the tray on the working table and head to the living room with heavy feet to sulk on the couch where you are now.
Fuck. 
You’re sure the trip down to memory lane ended up driving your thoughts to her.
Anna.
You haven’t thought of her in ages. The woman Bucky was in a relationship for the first months of your pregnancy with Summer. As much as it hurts to admit and remember, he wasn’t there with you then.
He was with her.
But in all honesty, you know you have no reason to be thinking of her now or to be feeling like you are. You and Bucky have been through so much to get where you are now and you love each other. 
He loves you and only you, there’s no doubt of that.
Reason, however, is not what’s guiding your feelings now and bile rushes up your throat at the intrusive images of them touching each other. Of him touching her in a way he touches you now.
She got to see him, hold him, touch him. He touched her. You can't get rid of the thoughts.
He had sex with her.
The two of you have talked about his relationship with Anna, but you never actually got to that specific topic. He hasn't spoken out loud, and you haven't pushed it with him.
But you knew, of course, you knew. 
After all, he was trying hard to make things work with her. And she’s a woman, a beautiful one, and he, well… he’s simply the type of man no woman would kick out of their beds, especially if they’re in love with him like she was.  
Your jaw clenches, but you don’t need to turn your head towards the entrance to know he’s there. Don’t need to look at him to know there’s worry etched on his face as he takes you in, sitting there blatantly ignoring him.
“Hey,” he’s smart enough to keep himself halted as he calls you with his soft voice, “Are you ok?”
“Yes.”
“Sweetheart…” He tries and you huff, turning even more away from him.
That’s when he can’t help himself and rushes inside the living room. Kneeling on the carpet right in front of you, he places his hands gently on your knees.
“What’s going on? Did I do something?” He pleads softly.
There’s a hitch on his tone that makes you finally look at him. His beautiful blue eyes are ​​focusedon your face, searching in almost desperation for any sign of what might be happening to you.
The anger you were feeling melts just like that.
“No, my love, no…” You sigh in almost defeat and your hand cups his face instinctively, caressing the light stub shadowing his jaw. You shake your head and then turn away from him, not bearing to look at him when you add, “It´s stupid… You’ll think I’m so stupid.”
“Well… Try me.”
When you glance back at him your eyes catch his bare chest and it’s her hand you picture running over his skin. Your jaw clenches at the offending picture in your mind and that fire, not the good one, starts burning again.
“Was it good?” You shoot.
“What was good?”
“With Anna.” You shift, making his hands drop from your knees.
“What?” He frowns and tilts his head at you.
“Sex with Anna… Was it good?” You keep the sharpness in your voice and cross your arms in front of your chest, staring right at him.
The frown deepens on his forehead and his lips part, as if looking for something to say and finding nothing. Sheer confusion twists his face.  
“Fuck…” You sigh, covering your face with your hands for just a moment before looking back at him, holding back the tears threatening to spill. “Forget it, it’s stupid.” You repeat, shaking your head.
As he stares back at you, the confusion on his features starts settling into something else.  Something you take as.. empathy?
“It’s not stupid if it’s making you feel bad.” He states matter-of-factly. 
“It's just the hormones.” You try to brush it off with a laugh but it just sounds forced, even to your ears. You look away.
But, apparently, Bucky’s having none of it.  There’s no trace of mock or amusement on him as he swiftly gets up to sit beside you, his front completely turned to you. Ever so gently, he takes your hands in his and places a kiss on the back of them. The sweet gesture makes your heart jump and you slowly shift to face him as well.
“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He asks, running his thumb over your hands, which he rests on his lap, linked to his.
His words come so naturally to him. Because that’s how it’s been now. You two talk. And it’s been the key to your happiness all these years. So you do just that. You talk to him.
“It’s just…” You look briefly to the floor before gathering the braveness to look back at him. “We never really talked about how far your relationship with Anna went. I know that you two cared for each other and I know. I swear I know that it’s in the past and you love me.” You make sure to make that very clear to him, before shrugging, “But I– Fuck– Something made me think of it, just now, and I kept thinking about you two…”
You take a deep breath. His soft eyes on you the whole time, his willingness to listen prompting you to speak, “You two in bed together… I kept wondering what it really meant for you. How did it happen? How did you feel?.Was it good? I mean–she’s beautiful and–Shit,” You curse under your breath, interrupting your blabbering for a second with a shake of your head, “I know it doesn’t make sense. I’m so-”
“Hey. hey,” He cuts you in, softly squeezing your hands before you could blurt out an apology. “Have I ever told you how I felt when you brought Harry over for that first time? Steve’s birthday, remember?”
You cock your head at him. Almost amused by the absurdity of you and Harry - the man you met at a supporting group - being anything more than friends. Even before you found out he and Natasha had hooked up (and then married), you had never seen Harry like that. You had a suspicion Bucky had been a little jealous back then, but you never really talked about that either.
“Harry? Are you serious?” You ask. A little smile on your lips.
“Dead serious,” he admits, nodding, “I wanted to kill the bastard. I felt like shit. And, honestly, it took me a long while to get over the feeling, even when I found out the guy was head over heels for Nat.” He blows out a puff of air, “Trust me, I understand.”
You let out a breathy smile. He smiles too.
But it's brief.  
“I did have sex with Anna when I was with her.” He estates, his face serious again.
Your jaw clenches, the small amusement from seconds earlier vanishing into the air. You know that. It’s the whole reason for that conversation. But that doesn’t make it easy to hear it from him.
“You ask me if it was good?” He continues when you don’t say anything, “When I had sex with Anna, it was always an attempt at something. Trying, trying… It was always something like… an effort.”
You gulp at the admission, and he shrugs, not once avoiding your gaze, “It never felt…” He sighs, searching for the word. “Natural. It never felt natural. So, no. I don’t think good really applies to what it was. Not really. It may make me a jerk to say it, but that’s the truth.”
You have no idea what to say to him. All of a sudden, you wish you hadn’t started that conversation at all. You feel like he’s just revealed something you should be satisfied with, happy even.
But you don’t really know how it makes you feel.
If you would guess, you would say you feel sorry for himand her, even. How hard it must’ve been. To be in a relationship meant and designed in every aspect to make one of them forget someone else.   
“And that’s because it wasn’t you.”  
As he whispered his words, your breath caught. He reaches his hand, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You lean against his touch. You have no idea why, but right now you feel so glad you’re here with him, like this. That horrible time in the past. 
“It could be her or anyone else. It would never mean or feel like it is with you. And it would definitely never be as good. Not even close.”
He holds your stare and you do it back. So many feelings, so much has gone between you two. Good and bad. All so you could live your love as you can today. He’s looking at you as if he’s feeling all that, too.
And he’s as glad as you are.
“I fucking love you.” His jaw clenches, as if the words come out of him filled with some kind of deep force.
“I love you.” You take in a shuddering breath, letting the mighty power those words carry rush over you.
He shifts on his seat and something in his gaze changes. Just like that, the atmosphere turns into something else.
Oh.
Oh.
The hormones inside of you are quick to notice the change as something you can only describe as a burning flame twists in your lower belly. You bite your lip, looking down at his. So soft. So lust and delicious.
So yours.  
Before you could even think to lean in, he swiftly grabs you and puts you across his lap.
“It’s like my body was made for you.” His voice is low as his hold on your waist tightens. “You drive me fucking crazy… the way you smell…so good.”
He tips his head to run his nose over the dip between your neck and shoulder. Taking in and relishing in your scent.
Your eyes flutter.  Your core cries for attention as you feel him already hardening against your ass.
“That thing you do with your fingers on my neck.” He grabs your hand to place it on the spot he just mentioned. You promptly do that little move you know he’s crazy about.
“Yeah, fuck,” he whispers and places a kiss on your neck, making a shiver run down your spine.
“Bucky…” you plead.
“The way you ride me.” He ignores your plea and keeps running his lips on your neck between words. 
Desirous words that make your mind spin. “You sound so beautiful when my cock is inside you. Your fucking breasts...”
He shows you his meaning by grabbing a handful of one of your breasts through your dress. It prompts a whimper out of you and your fingers dip into his locks, undoing his bun in the process.   
“God you’re fucking sexy, I have to hold myself back sometimes when there’s people around…But there’s no one here… Right, sweetheart?” His voice turns infinitely lower as his metal hand snakes under your dress.
That morning you had decided for a simple short tank top dress with a loose fitting to prepare yourself for the heat you’ve been feeling all the time.  You had no idea how much it would come in handy.
Fuck. 
You want him so damn much. So damn much it’s burning you. But the bastard, the bastard, keeps his touch under the skirt almost chaste, just massaging the skin and flesh of your thighs.
Not being able to hold yourself any longer, you turn his face to yours  and grab his lips in a kiss. The movement is harsh, almost violent. Pouring all your need and desire for him in there.
Responding to the kiss with the same ferocity, bucky fiercely moves your hips with his metal hand and grounds you against the hardness beneath you.
“Do you see what you do to me? Huh?” His voice is hoarse against your lips. His hand moves with you, but he doesn't really have to make any effort as your body moves on its own accord, grinding itself against his.
Longing for a breath, his lips part from your as he leans his forehead against your, “Is it like that for you too? Tell me you want me as much as I want you. All the fucking time.” He grits out.
Words evade you as your hips keep moving against him, chasing a release for the burning sparkles inside your core. So, as a way to show him, you grab his flesh hand under your dress and move higher, moving it under your underwear.
You’re soaked.
He lets out a harsh groan and you bet it’s pure primal instinct when his fingers start to move against your most sensitive spots. 
Moaning at the sensation, you bring your arms around his neck, and work on kissing every little piece of him you can reach. His ears, cheeks, temple, lips, neck, his touch is so right. Just where he knows drives you crazy.
God, you love how much he knows you.
You roll your hips in a frenetic rhythm, practically riding his hand and feeling how impossibly harder he’s getting beneath you.
As if he’s feeling the exact same thing, he lets out a guttural groan, “I love you. I want you so much.” His voice rasps as he leans back to look at you. “You’re gonna come for me.” He states rather than ask, and fuck if don’t almost melt at the mix of dominance and desperation of his tone.
You grind harder against his hand, ragged breaths slipping out of your parted lips while you stare right back at him.
“I need to feel you, I need to see you, fuck– I need you.” He pulls down the straps of your dress, leaving your dress bunched up in the middle and baring your breasts for him. He lets out a satisfied hum before dipping his head to suck at one of them.
You let out a loud moan and you arch against his lips with the intensity of your climax, that comes without warning.  This only prompts Bucky to suck your breasts harder, going from one to the other with ravenous appetite while you come undone around his fingers
In a reflex, you quickly pull his hand away, the sensations too much, and drop your body limp against him.
You stay like that, sucking in some much needed breaths inside your lungs as he lazily kisses your bare shoulders, wrapping his arms around you.
It’s only instinct, primal and hungry instinct, when you start moving your body, grinding against his hardness, even if the angle of you sitting across his body just doesn’t allow you much. 
“Hmm…” His hands travel around over you, “Do you want my cock, babe?” He offers in a sultry whisper.
“You did say something about riding.” You manage to let out between your still panting breathing.
He chuckles and bites his lower lip as, in a swift move, you adjust yourself on his lap, facing forward, while your back is to his chest.  
Both of you don’t want to waste any time, so, as you lift a little to pull your underwear to the side, he makes quick work of pushing down his pants. What a sight it is to watch from behind you his thick and hard cock bobbing against his stomach.
He catches your hungry stare and makes a show of giving it a few bumps, “Come and get it. It’s all yours.”
You don’t need to be told twice before you align your entrance to his tip and, with his help, make your descent to sit on him again.
Your eyes shutter and your lips part at the familiar stretch, “Goddammit you feel good.” You breathe, already bringing your hand to circle your clit as you feel him bottom up.
Bucky huffs through his teeth, “Right back at you, honey.” He circles his metal arm around you, grabbing a handful of your breast, as you start moving.
“Fuck… Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He praises, kneading the soft flesh in his hand as you pick up your rhythm.
You're a mess at this point, your dress is a mess, your body is a mess, but you don't care, all you can feel is his cock inside you and your hand on your clit.
All you can listen to is his loud moans mingling with your ragged pants as you ride him hard and fast, your ass bumping against him while he runs his tongue over your back.
You cry out and your pace falters at the electric sensation of your pleasure. “Bucky,” you let out a vicious sound when your second climax reaches you like a wave, making your legs tremble. Your pussy clenches around him.
“Oh, God,” he reacts at the gripping sensation, and you deliberately do it again, just because he sounds so beautiful, “Oh God, oh Baby… Yeah, fuck, just like that.” Between the blabbering words, he takes control of your hips, moving you wantonly around his cock. 
It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling his release inside you, groaning harshly and dragging sloppy open mouth kisses over your shoulder.
You lazily roll your hips around him to drag out the pleasure for both of you before you cease the movement and rest your back fully against his chest. He keeps himself inside you while wrapping his arms around your middle. Sighing, he draws slow circles over your belly.  
You’re the first to gather the force to speak, “Fuck, that was…”
“I know, fuck… I know.” He agrees, a tad breathless, “You’re the only one who ever made me feel this way,” he adds, still moving his hands around you and kissing your neck from behind you, like he just can’t get enough. A warm sensation settles inside you.
“You’re the only one I ever wanted.” He nuzzles your neck, “Always. No one can compare.” He sounds so honest, a deep and desperate kind of honesty that makes your heart swell with love for him.
You tilt your head so you can look at him. He halts from ravishing your neck to look back at you.
“I know, baby,” You assure, staring deeply into him. You need him to be sure of that, “I love you. You’re the only one I ever wanted, too. Always.”
You lean in and kiss him. Not that desperate and needy kiss from before, but one of love, devotion, peace and assurance. Everything you want you two to have in your relationship.
And you do.
He sighs through the kiss, as if he felt everything you put in there.
That’s when the caressing on your body, your legs, your belly intensifies.
You break the kiss and lift an eyebrow at him when you feel his cock hardening inside you again.
The sheepish look on his face is almost comical. “You look so beautiful when you’re pregnant. And I had to keep my hands to myself last time.” He pouts, before his lips twist into a naughty smile, “Literally”.
A breathy laugh slips out of your lips and, despite yourself, a tight kind of want starts pooling in your lower belly.  
He seems to sense that, as something dangerous laces his chuckle, “That firecracker of our daughter will be at school for a little longer, we���ve gotta make it count, beautiful.”
You don’t even have the chance to yelp before he easily handles you and you find yourself out of the sofa and on your all fours over the carpet. 
And once again he shows you how much he wants you.
Only you.
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xveenusx · 9 months
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Enough
Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: Realizing that no matter what you do, no matter how much you love someone, you are still not enough.
Author’s note: I’ve had a severe case of writer’s block so please don’t hate my disappearance.
Rating: Pure brutal angst
Warnings: fucking painful
__________________________
I think I may have made a small miscalculation.
My eyes trailed over the mass of muscle currently spread out on my bed.
Rafe Cameron.
Kook King, heir to Ward's real estate empire, and asshole extrodinare was sleeping soundly in my bed. It was almost laughable if I wasn't so fucking terrified.
The sunlight danced across his tan skin, the sheets bunched up at his hips leaving little to imagination. My breath caught as my eyes followed the small happy trail causing memories of last night to assualt me.
Sitting on the chaise lounge chair, I curl up against the pillows humming softly to myself. Bringing the mug up to my lips, I bite back a smile at the utter relaxtaion on his face.
When Rafe told me to pack a bag, my stomach flipped with nerves. Being the maid of the infamous Cameron family wasn't exactly ideal in the eyes of his family let alone being a pogue. So we kept our relationship a secret at his request. He had too much to lose if his family reacted poorly.
People wouldn't understand. Ward wouldn't understand. That's what he always told me.
Yet, as much as I tried to understand his reasoning, a small part of me ached at the thought of it being much simpler: I just wasn't enough.
It was exahusting to say the least. Always having to hide and watch as other women with more social status and money than me throw themselves at him. It didn't help that Rafe had a tendency to flirt back causing the green monster known as jealousy to rear its ugly head in my face.
So I stuck with what I knew how to do: clean.
And just as I begin to fall off the deep end, straight over a cliff into overthinking, Rafe always manages to pull me back out. This time he did it by offering a small getaway.
The Cameron's weren't set to use their beach house for another month or so, leaving this entire property for Rafe and I to simply enjoy each other's company. Something we rarely get to do.
There was no need to pretend here.
A groan pulled me out of my thoughts directing my eyes to the bed. A cool salty breeze swept in from the open balcony doors, the sounds of waves crashing agaisnt the shore soothed me.
Rafe peered at me from under his arm with a frown marring his features.
"What's with that face?"
"I don't like waking up alone." He complained, staring at me expectantly.
Giddiness singes every nerve in my body as I set down my mug and scurry over to the bed. The moment my knees hit the bed, strong arms envelope me and tug me into a warm prison.
"Mmmmh." Rafe hums, burying his face into the nape of my neck while his hand slowly tugs my leg over his hip. A small giggle slips from my lips at his softness.
"Are you laughing at me?" His voice rumbled with sleep.
"Yes, you’re a very simple man to please."
"I didn't have you, and now I do. There, it's simple."
My heart melted at his words. For someone who struggled wiht expressing how he felt, Rafe always managed to knock me on my ass.
"What did you wanna do today?" I asked, trailing my fingertips along his face, placing every freckle, every spot to memory.
Blue crytsalized eyes follow me every move. "You. In every room in this house. Then outside."
Blushing at his words, I huffed in fake annoyance and playfully shoved his face away from me. "Rafe, I'm being serious."
"I'm being dead serious, baby." He nipped at my fingers before rolling over onto his back, dragging me directly on top.
I rest my chin on the tops of my hands that laid on his chest and stare at the beautiful man below me. Rafe's fingers thread themselves into my hair brushing it softly, alomst lulling me to sleep.
I wanted to capture this moment forever. The sound of the seagulls chirping, the smell of the salty breeze, the warmth of his body under mine, and the utter adortion that dances in his eyes as he looks at me. It was intimate and real. And for a moment, I allowed myself to dream about the possibility of this becoming a reality.
The abilty to hold his hand in public and kiss his body in private. Being able to go on dates and be on his arm for events and dinners. Hanging out with his friends and his family because I knew what they meant to him. Being able to wake up in his bed rather than sneaking out in the middle of the night. I wanted it all.
Our picture perfect bubble. And consider me naive, but I thought this moment would last forever. But the thing about bubbles is they always pop in the end.
"Guess what?" Rafe asked, his cerulean orbs intense and sincere.
A beaming smile stretched across my lips at the familiar phrase he always used. "What?"
"I love-"
"I love you." I beat him to it, making him let out a deep bellyed laugh. I was memoriezed, enamoured by every little thing he did. I wanted to hear it again and again.
Opening my mouth, "No take backs-"
A knock on the door interrupts me.
That's when our bubble pops.
"Rafe? Open up." Sarah Cameron's voice fillters in from the other side of the door.
My eyes dart to Rafe, only for his face to be painted with sheer panic. In seconds, I'm shoved off the side of the bed and fall onto the floor in a heap of sheets.
My mind took a moment to catch up with my body. But when it did, the flood of emotions that crashed into me were nothing short of excruciating. An immediate lump formed in my throat at his actions as I try to make quick excuses for him but nothing came to mind.
"Just stay down, please." The sound of his request has me closing my eyes, his words hitting me deep, knifelike in the size of the wounds that they left.
I nodded softly. I remain still on my side on the cold floor as I numbly stare at the wall.
"Sarah, what the fuck are you doing here? I had the beach house for the weekend." His words were low and sharp, nothing like how he spoke to me mere seconds ago.
"Chill out. My friends and I wanted to get away a little, plus I figured you were already here, so. "
"You brought those fucking pogues here?"
I hear her scoff. "Your friends are worse."
"Just make sure they don't steal anything. I know it's hard for them considering they wouldn't see this type of money in a life time." His words were cruel, twisting the knife deeper into my chest.
I couldn't help but wonder if there was a double meaning behind his words. I was a pogue, just like Sarah's friends, and it would take me years to afford even a fraction of what's in this beach house.
Was that how he saw me? Was this the reason why we couldn't be public?
"Have you seen her? She wasn't at the house when I left." Sarah's question drew me back to the present.
I held my breath as I waited for him to answer about my whereabouts. I couldn't take another hit.
"I know you have about two brain cells, but please tell me why you would think I know where the help is?"
All my breath left my body and I fought the urge to scream. A heavy weight sat on my chest as I blankly stared at the floor, my eyeballs burning in absolute mortification.
"God, you're such an asshole."
"I aim to please. Now leave me alone." With that, Rafe slammed the door shut but I refused to move a muscle.
Instead, I tried to focus on my breath. It was the only thing that would keep me from having a panic attack. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs but it's like my body forgot how to breathe.
Tears finally began to fall silently as I gasped for breath, clutching the sheet closer to my chest. Humilation pricked my very being as his words play on repeat in my mind.
Rafe was the best part of my day. He made me want things I didn't even know I wanted. And yet, this was how he viewed me. So small and insiginifcant.
Footsteps move in my direction but I paid them no mind. Moving was impossible, so I just stayed in the spot where Rafe thought I belonged— on the cold hard floor.
"I know how it looks, just give me a chance to explain." I felt him kneel beside me, his hand reaching to cup my face. I jerked my face away from him and return my attention to the wall.
"Can you please get off the floor?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"This is where you wanted me, right?" The words left a stale taste in my mouth.
My heart pounded in my throat as a hot flush filled my cheeks.
"Look at me." He demanded.
I couldn't. It hurt too much.
"Baby, please. Look at me." He touched my chin and I felt my body shudder.
"Don't touch me." The words tore out of my chest as I wrenched myself away from him.
Rafe's eyes tracked my movement and his face became very still as if contemplating his next move.
The level of betrayal I felt must have been painted on my face, because his expression shifted to one of regret.
"I made a mistake-"
"Stop." I snapped, lifting my hand to cut him off. "Get out. I need to change and leave before Sarah see's me."
"I drove you, where are you going to go when you don't have a car?"
My eyes narrow at his tone. Once again he was painting me as this helpless girl that was nothing without him.
"I have two legs that work perfetly fine."
Rafe crossed his bulging arms against his toned chest. "You're not leaving until we talk."
A fake laugh past my lips. "We're done, there's nothing left to talk about."
He let out a growl of frustation. "We're not breaking up."
Was he delusional?
"This is me breaking up with you. We are done, Rafe."
Rafe's icey blue eyes narrowed into slits. "Stop trying to break up with me."
"You threw me off the bed!" I shouted, my hands pointing to the floor where I laid moments ago, the shame still fresh as an open wound.
"You threw me off the bed." I repeated softer, my voice breaking at the end. "The bed, Rafe. Just so Sarah didn't see you with me."
"I shouldn't have done that-"
"It happened. It's done. Just let me leave."
Protecting what little self respect I had left was my only goal. No matter how much I loved him, it wasn't worth this constant stream of self doubt and humiliation that seemed to follow us like a plague.
Rafe stared at me for a moment before he jumped into action. Heading towards my suitcase, I watch frozen as he goes through my clothes, picking an outfit for me.
Taking several strides to me, Rafe shoved the clothes into my arms, his breath heavy. "Put these on."
"Rafe, what the hell are you doing-"
"I made a mistake. One that I'm going to fix right now. So stop fighting with me and put these on."
Unease filled me chest as my eyes dart to the clothes.
"How?"
"No more hiding. You and me, okay?"
I stared into his hopeful gaze, looking for even a flash of insincerity or deceit, but only found sheer determination. "Rafe, you can get out of this. I'm giving you an out-"
He shakes his head roughly, strands of golden hair falling on his forehead. "I don't want an out, I want you. So put the clothes on so I can go tell the world I love you."
I snorted, "Seems a bit melodramatic. Let's start small, yeah?"
Pushing his hair back, a sexy smile pulled at his lips. "Small."
I made my decision. Turning around, I grabbed the clothes and began to dress.
I wiped my sweaty hands against my mini white sundress as nerves begin to prick every bit of my skin. Rafe stood in front of me, his glacial eyes soft, with his hand held out for mine. "Ready, baby?"
Hope inflated my lungs as I placed my trembling hand in his, the cool feel of his rings brining a familiar type of comfort.
Rafe leads us out of the room and towards the staircase where voices floated up from downstairs. I was nervous. Extremely nervous. He was going to do it. Rafe was going to introduce me as his girlfriend to his sister and her friends, no less.
The sound of our footsteps echoed against the giant house causing the voices to slowly die away.
Coming into view, Sarah and the pogues are all perched in the living room wearing beach attire. An open bottle of tequila and shot glasses are spread along the table.
All eyes zone in on us before they zoom in on our clased hands. Sarah's eyes widened and I fought the urge to pull my hand from Rafe's grasp. As if sensing my thoughts, Rafe squeezed my hand reassuringly and moved me slightly in front of him.
He cleard his throat. "I uh-"
His eyes shot to mine. I let my fingers brush against his arm in encouragement, a proud smile gracing my lips.
This was the first step in the right direction. Once we told Sarah, it would be easier with each passing person.
Butterflies swarmed my stomach like a zoo. I knew how hard this was for him, but he was still doing this for me, for us. Rafe was finally making us a priority. The unattainble future now felt like it was within my reach.
"Sarah, there's something I want to tell you. I've um-well I've been seeing-"
The front door slammed.
"Looks like we're missing all the fun." Ward Cameron walked in, hand in hand with Rose. A loose linen shirt with thin pants dress his body with a hat and an expensive pair of sungalsses cover his face.
I felt Rafe's grip slowly loosen on my hand. Panic clawed at my throat as I turn my head to look at him. Rafe stared directly ahead with his jaw clenched. He refused to even look at me.
In a last ditch effort to cling onto the invisible string that held us together, I tightened my grip on his hand but Rafe jerked his hand away.
I felt the pressure in my chest finally pop and the string that once tethered us together finally tear. Dread sat in my stomach like lead and bile traveled up my throat.
He made his decision and once again, it wasn't me.
Heat rushed up my neck as I left my arms hang limply at my side. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't think. My shoulders slumped as I bit down on my tongue hard enought to draw blood.
It kept me from screaming.
"Rafe, thank god you brought the help. Though it looks like she hasn't been doing much cleaning." Rose tsked as she looked at the littered table in distaste. "Honey, be a dear and make us new drinks. Then when you have a minute, our bags are out front. Go ahead and put them in our room."
With a wave of a hand she dismissed me, as her and Ward walk passed me with no other acknowlegment.
My mouth went dry as I clenched my shaky shands together. I could feel Sarah's gaze drilling into the side of my head, but I couldn't look at her. Instead, I once again looked at the bane of my existance. The source of this crippling pain the crushes every inch of my soul.
"Rafe..." My voice trembled as I begged him, pleaded, for him to look at me. Just once.
I wanted him to see my face. He refused, the only hint of his turmoil was the bob of his adam's apple.
Swallowing my pride, I put my head down and do what I do best: clean.
____________________
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me alive. I spent the rest of the day doing every little thing Rose asked. I kept my head down and said not one word.
Rafe made my place in his life very clear so I was going to be exactly what he wanted me to be. The perfect little maid.
The entire Cameron family sat at the table for dinner, John B included, as I gently set each of their plates down in front of them. I held my breath once I reached Rafe, knowing that one hint of his expensive musky cologne would send me into a fit of tears.
"Thank you." The timber of his voice caused me to close my eyes briefly in pain.
A familiar touch to my wrist made me jerk away and clear my throat. I continue serving dinner, forcing myself to ignore the gravity that's pulling me towards him.
"That'll be all, you can go relax for a bit. We'll need you back to clean up, of course."
"Of course." My smile was brittle. I allowed myself only a glance. Rafe glared down at his plate, hands clenched into fists at his side.
My feet moved on their own accord and soon I found myself outside, standing beside the pool that overlooked the shore. Taking in gulps of air, I placed my head in my hands.
Starting over was never something I planned. Once I met Rafe, everything else shifted into perspective. All I ever thought about was moving forward with him and starting a life together. One that he would be proud of. One where I didn't have to hide.
"I'm sorry." The words came from behind me and burned a whole straight through my chest.
I choked back on my tears that threatened to drown me and stare down at the rag in my hands.
"Baby." He moved closer now, his heat pressing into my side.
A small shake of my head was all I could muster. The armour I placed around my delicate heart was getting weaker with each passing second.
"I said, I'm sorry." His hand reaches for my waist, turning me to face my destruction.
A light blue linen shirt paired with white six inch seamed shorts don his body. A large gold watch decorated his wrist to match the shiny gold necklace that rested on his chest.
Looking down at myself, a simple tee and leggings, the contrast was so striking it was laughable. In what world had I fooled myself into thinking Rafe Cameron was mine.
Deciding to proctect my sanity, I moved back towards the house with every intention of cleaning up before grabbing my bag and leaving when Rafe blocked my escape.
"Did you hear me? I'm so fucking sorry, for all of it."
"I heard you." Indifference lacing every word.
Rafe gowled, running his hands through his hair in frustation at my lack of emotion. "Stop acting like you don't care and just talk to me."
"I don't care what your family thinks of me and I don't care what you think of me. I dont care anymore, Rafe."
Rafe gripped my chin and his irate gaze burned me. "Tell me what to do to fix it."
There was nothing left of me for him to fix.
The sound of Ward calling out my name is enough to distract Rafe. Pulling my face from his grasp, I promplty turned around and headed towards the house.
"Stop fucking walking." He barked out harshly.
Ignoring his words, I continue to head in the direction of the house. Only a few more hours and I can leave with my head held high despite the gaping hole in my chest.
"I swear to God, stop walking." I could hear his footsteps behind me causing a rush of adrenaline to spread like wildfire through my veins.
"Last time I checked, you work for my family. My last name is fucking Cameron so if I tell you to stop walking, you stop fucking walking." The words are cruel and dark and they have their desired effect because I stop immediately in my tracks.
My eyes began to burn as I pivoted on my heel and slwoly turned to face him. His gaze hardened and I can see him contemplating something before a vicious smirk decorates the face I love.
A glass tumblr was in his hand and I watched in absolute shock as he tilted the cup, spilling the dark liquid onto the floor. The rag in my hand suddenly weighed eight tons as I realized his intent.
"Clean it up."
My blood turned ice cold and a sound a disbelief left my lips.
"I said, Clean. It. Up." He gestured to the floor.
I searched his eyes for anything, for everything, but there's nothing there. Looking back down at the mess, I nodded my head and slowly dropped to my knees.
Tears blurred my vision as I scrubbed the floor clean, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Our fate was finally sealed in that moment.
Leaning back on the heels of my feet, I swallowed. Tears clung to my lashes but the damage was already done. The trails the tears left in their wake burned into my skin as a reminder of his cruelty.
His cold mask finally cracked at the sight of my tears. Rafe took a step in my direction but something in my face made him halt.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Cameron?” I averted my eyes from his.
A harsh noise escaped his lips then he reached out and grabbed my shoulders. I closed my eyes at the heat of his touch and my lips began to quiver.
“I just wanted you to talk to me….” Rafe spoke softly, his words pained.
I wiped my tears harshly and forced myself to look at him for the last time. His hard glacial eyes study my face.
The memory from this morning continued to fade out of my reach. Pain filled me as I realized that was the last time we would ever be together.
“Am I free to go, Mr. Cameron?”
His face crumbled. For a second, one second, a twisted sense of happiness hit me at the sight of his pain. Rafe did this to us. Not his family, not his friends, but him.
Rafe’s face became very still. He nodded slightly and relief filled me. I stared into his eyes, hoping he could see all the love I had been so willing to shower him with, but it was now too late.
Giving him my back, I allowed the dirty rag in my hand drop. 20 more steps. That’s all that stood between me and the next chapter of my story. One that didn’t include him.
Each step seemed to get heavier the farther I walked away from Rafe. I was wrapped around a haze of heartbreak that almost made my movements mechanical.
I entered the house, numb to the bone, and gathered all my things. Everything around me was out of focus as I dragged my suitcase towards the front door.
I could see Rose from the corner of my eye, her mouth moving, but the ringing in my ears only seemed to get louder. Pushing past her, I headed straight for the door and forced myself not to look back.
Everything was different now. In a way, so was I.
One foot in front of the other, I walked down the drive way. The ringing in my ears and the adrenaline that pumped through my veins was suddenly dulled at the sound of the door slamming open behind me.
Loud footsteps echoed behind me before my arms are grabbed and I’m forced to turn around.
Rafe’s eyes were wild with panic as he panted in front of me. His entire appearance was disheveled with his hair sticking out in all directions.
“Don’t go.”
I was so close to being out of his grasp and being free of this agony that gripped me so tightly it made it hard to breathe.
“You were never mine. Were you?” The question slipped past my lips before I knew it.
“I love you. I do, please just come back inside and I’ll do what you want. I’ll tell Ward and Rose right now.” His blue eyes held so much hope, but it wasn’t enough. The magic was all gone, replaced with this cruel torment.
“I was yours, in every way possible. But, it didn’t matter what I did. I still wasn’t enough for you. I’m never going to be good enough, am I?” My voice cracked, but the words were out along with the realization of how painfully accurate they were.
Warm hands cradled my face pulling me towards his. Rafe rested his forehead on mine, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel the slight tremble in his hands.
“That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”
“How could I possibly know that? You never do anything that says otherwise.”
“I love a man who can’t even hold my hand in public.” He couldn’t hold me gaze, instead he turned it to the floor with his jaw clenched.
“You knew who I was when we started this. You knew what came with being with a Cameron. Our situation is much more complicated than you’re making it fucking seem. So I didn’t hold your hand, now you’re going to leave me?”
His logic was horribly flawed.
“Our situation is not complicated. All you had to do was love me the way I loved you.”
“Whether you like it or not, you’re a fucking maid,” Rafe said through gritted teeth,” The maid to my family, no less, and you expect to be welcomed in with open arms? This isn’t a fairytale, wake up.”
”Then what was the point of all of this? Of me loving you and you loving me, if it was never going to go anywhere.”
“The point was that we were together and we were happy.” Rafe let out a frustrated noise and shook his head. But it was clear, he wasn’t getting it. I knew nothing I’d say would ever get through to him.
“Were we? Together, I mean. Because I was always at your beck and call. Literally and figuratively. Where were you for my college graduation? Where were you when my dad died? I’ll tell you where you were,” I pressed my finger into his chest, “You. Weren’t. There. Instead, you chose to love me from afar because you care more about the opinion of sheep than you do me.”
I couldn’t stop talking. It was as though a wall cracked and suddenly every emotion I held in was flooding through.
“Look at me.” I shouted, grabbing his chin and forcing him to stare. “I want you to look me in the fucking eye. Look at the damage you caused. You did this to us. ”
“Stop being cruel.”
“Cruel? You threw your drink on the floor and made me clean it up. Did seeing me on my knees make you feel big and strong?”
He tilted his head, his expression darkening. “Enough. Come back inside, now.”
“I wanted everything for you.” I laughed at how incredibly stupid and blind I had been. “And you can’t even hold my fucking hand.”
Race’s eyes softened marginally. “Tell me what to do. How can I fix this?”
My stomach tightened. Steeling myself, I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed out the next words. “You can’t.”
“I can, but you’re not give me a fucking chance here.” His words came out as a plea.
“Being with you was a choice I made every day. One that you clearly couldn’t make, so I’m making it for you. We’re done.
His jaw ticked. ”Try and fucking leave me.”
I wanted nothing more than to run back into his arms and comfort him, despite it all. But I knew, if I was going to survive this at all, I couldn’t be with him.
“I’m always running behind you, trying to keep up. Trying to be everything you want and everything you need, but I’m all out of breath. I have nothing left to give you. But it’s still more than you ever gave me.” With those being my parting words, I clutched onto the handle of my suitcase in a death grip and force myself to walk away from him.
My shoulders jump at the sound of something shattering behind me.
“I love you.” Rafe screamed at the top of his lungs from behind me. His voice was brutal and laced with pain.
Not enough.
_________________
Side note: pls let me know what you think! I’ve been gone for several months so I’m a bit rusty:) I am working on the second part of Hate as promised!
2K notes · View notes
neochan · 2 months
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straight out a romance novel (m) – teaser
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ➪ bookshop keeper!jaemin x author!reader
𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 & 𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒 ➪ meet cute (read:awkward), sunshine x sunshine, strangers to something, love triangle, jealousy, best friends to rivals, found family in a way, smut, fluff, minor angst, including barista!jeno, ice cream shop worker!mark, barista!haechan, day care worker!renjun.
𝐖𝐂 ➪ teaser is 1.1k & fic is 20-25k est.
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 ➪ i've had this idea in the drafts since 2021 when i saw this note on a bookshop door. ever since then, i've been dreaming about telling this story. today i put fingers to keyboard and wrote a little something.
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ➪ comment or send an ask!
A brightly-colored yellow paper clings to the door, its message hastily scrawled in ink: "we're open!" beckoning with a number underneath. You reach for the handle, but it refuses to budge, the lock catching you off guard. If they truly were open, why wasn't the door unlocked? You ponder for a moment whether to dial the number, then with a resigned sigh, you retrieve your phone and punch in the digits.
After a brief moment, the phone rings just once before a cheery voice fills your ear.
"Hello, Jaemin speaking."
You hesitated for a moment before responding, your heart fluttering for what seemed like no reason at all.
"Hey. I saw the note on the door. Mind letting me in?" Your voice wavered slightly, "The door is locked."
There's a shuffling on the other end of the line, and then a long slew of slightly muffled curse words.
You can't help but stifle a chuckle at the colorful language. It definitely wasn't what you were expecting from the boy who answered the phone so joyfully.
Moments later, you hear the click of the lock, and the door creaks open. The boy – Jaemin – stands there, phone pressed to his ear, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.
"Hello," he says, his voice slightly louder than expected, the proximity causes a feedback loop that makes your ears sting.
You wince at the sudden noise, but the discomfort is overshadowed by the way he jumps nearly ten feet in the air. He fumbles to hang up the call, hands trembling.
"Sorry about that," Jaemin says, his cheeks flushing pink. "I forgot I was still on the phone."
Jaemin stands in the doorway, caught in a moment of stunned admiration as he gazes at you. His eyes trace the gentle curve of your lips, the way sunlight dances in your hair, and the subtle grace in your movements. He sways slightly, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest.
For a moment, the world seems to slow down as you both stand there looking at each other. It's only when you shift your weight that he realizes he's been staring, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck sheepishly.
Just as the silence begins to stretch uncomfortably, you clear your throat, "Um, can I come in?" you ask, voice soft yet filled with a hint of amusement.
The sound of your voice snaps Jaemin out of his reverie, and he blinks, his cheeks reddening even further at his own awkwardness.
"Oh! Yes, of course!" Jaemin steps back hastily, gesturing for you to enter the cozy bookshop.
You offer him a gracious smile as you pass by, feeling a flutter of excitement at the unexpected boyish charm that radiated off him. As you step inside, the scent of old books and ink envelops you, wrapping you in a comforting embrace. This was familiar. This was home.
Jaemin shuts the door and follows you inside, his heart still pounding with the exhilaration of your presence. He can't help but steal glances at you as you explore the shelves, his cheeks flushing anew with each fleeting moment of eye contact.
Realizations seem to come slow to him today, because as you pick up a tattered book, avoiding his gaze in the dimly lit aisle, Jaemin becomes acutely aware of how his lingering presence might be perceived as stalkerish. In an attempt to ease the tension, he crosses his arms and leans against the shelf.
"So, what brings you to Seaside Stories?"
You glance up from the worn pages of the book, meeting Jaemin's gaze with a hint of curiosity in your eyes.
"Seaside Stories," you repeat, the name rolling off your tongue as you gesture around the cozy bookstore. "It's a lovely name. Is there a story behind it?"
Jaemin scratches the back of his head again, another sheepish grin gracing his lips. "Yeah, it's, um, the name of the store," he admits, his tone tinged with a touch of embarrassment.
Your brow furrows in confusion as you glance towards the entrance. "But the sign outside just says bookstore," you remark.
The boy shifts awkwardly. "Right, about that... I, uh, I haven't gotten around to changing it yet," he confesses.
You can't help but chuckle at his honesty. "Well, Seaside Stories suits it perfectly," you assure him.
"Thanks," he murmurs, his voice bashful. "I'm glad you think so."
You nod, feeling a gentle warmth spreading through the air between you. The moment hangs suspended, the soft rustle of pages and the faint scent of old books enveloping you both in a cocoon of quiet intimacy.
As Jaemin stands, slightly uncomfortable by the wooden shelf that dug into his shoulder, he clears his throat, breaking the silence. "So..." he begins tentatively, his voice trailing off as he searches for the right words.
You meet his gaze, "So... what's on your mind?" you prompt, a smirk teasing the corners of your lips.
A faint flush colors Jaemin's cheeks as he gathers his thoughts, his eyes flickering. "You never answered my question... What brings you here today?" he asks.
"Just exploring," you reply with a shrug, "I have a soft spot for bookshops, especially ones with charming yellow notes on the door," you add playfully.
As if his face could get any deeper shade of red, Jaemin's face grows hot again. He nods, excitment lighting up his features. "It's always nice to meet fellow book lovers," he remarks.
"Absolutely."
Another wave of silence passes between the both of you as you continue to fumble through the pages of the tattered book in your hands. The cover depicted what looked like a blue haired pirate aboard a rickety wooden boat. Definitely not what you'd read on a normal day. And absolutely nothing like what you write.
Suddenly aware of the lingering silence for the upteenth time, he attempts to clear his throat, but it comes out in a cackle that sounded like a dying cat. "So, uh, can I help you find anything specific?" he asks, his words stumbling over each other in his eagerness to fill the void.
You shake your head, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. "No, I'm just browsing, thank you."
"Right, of course," he mumbles, his gaze darting nervously around the room. "Well, um, let me know if you need anything. I'll just... be around."
With an awkward half-wave, Jaemin retreats down the aisle, leaving you to explore the shelves in peace. As you watch him go, a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.
This boy was weird, but in a good way, you think.
Now come to think of it, so was the boy in the coffee shop.
Must be something in the water.
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747 notes · View notes
reiincarnatiion · 10 months
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shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part two
summary : jealous but confused azriel, yearning shadows and sexy lucien and sexy reader ;)
🧚‍♀️
a/n: 💗 WOW. SO MUCH SUPPORT ON THE FIRST PART BROOO GUYS I JUST OFCOURSE HAD TO WRITE PART TWO and def will have part 3 i guess? ngl i am an angsty writer so im not good at writing happy endings HAHA rip for u all.
this is so addictive ive already written 3 stories in a span of like three days HAHAH 💗
also most azriel stories i read are never from his perspective so im keeping it from his perspective to change things up! he is def a bit out of character because i havent read acotar for a while rip but enjoy! thanks for the support and let me know your thoughts !! also this isnt proof read cuz ya girls lazy >.<
read [ part one ] !!
---💗---
"What are you two doing?"
Lucien and you both looked up, shocked (but not really) , to find Azriel standing in the middle of the dance floor, clad in his black silk shirt and pants, with swirls of tattoos peeking through, his collarbone on full display. Fae moved gracefully around him, dancing and making out, carefully avoiding the famed shadow singer.
He stands in front of you two, just as you two had begun your pathetic attempts to drunkedly dance. Your short dress had ridden up to the top of your thighs, pressed against Lucien's pants, and Azriel knew it was entirely inappropriate. He observed as you raised your eyebrows and looked down at him.
He couldn't fathom how you two had crossed the line from friends, but he knew it was wrong. Over the eons, he had seen you with many men, but they had always been strangers to him and the Inner Circle. They had never been serious.
Were you and Lucien serious? The club fell silent to him,  as he awaited your answer.
His shadows swirled around his feet, urging him to intervene. Some even attempted to caress your legs, but Azriel swiftly reeled them in, refusing to acknowledge how soft and sweet-smelling they might be. He couldn't bear to know how apparently tempting they were.
Azriel clenched his jaw as you gazed back at him with your kohl-lined eyes, their newfound seductive power nearly breaking his stoic demeanor.
He bit the inside of his cheek to quell the sudden effect your look had on him, not wanting to indulge in such thoughts; they could only lead to trouble.
"Uhhh... Dancing?" you drawled back finally, rolling your eyes in a way that he would have only have liked to see in bed with you, behind you, with his hands wrapped in your hair as he-
He blinked, the deafening thumping of the music returning to his consciousness, as the rush from his panicking shadows ebbed away, calming his racing heart.
What was he doing? Why did he even come here? A wave of guilt washed over him as he tore his gaze away from your captivating eyes, only to hear you laugh and giggle as Lucien whispered something in your ear, drawing you closer. A giggle Azriel had never noticed was so adorable and sexy at the same time.
Azriel shook his head, trying to make sense of the overwhelming emotions within him. It didn't make any sense. You were like a little sister to him, an integral part of his family.
Stupidly, he realized that he didn't know why his shadows urged him towards you, nor did he understand the sudden waves of jealousy coursing through him.
"AZ! SO NICE OF YOU TO FINALLY JOIN!" a voice screeched, breaking the tension that had enveloped him and the couple in front of him.
They weren't a couple, but they looked like one, and he couldn't stand it. He didn't know why he was acting this way, but he knew one thing for sure: he didn't like it.
He didn't like how Lucien's slender fingers gripped your waist with such familiarity and intent.
The voice that had called out before now manifested next to him as Cassian stumbled over, dragging Nesta along. Their interlocked hands taunted him once more, but Azriel forced himself to look up at Cassian.
"BROTHER!! LET'S DANCE!!" Cassian howled, reaching them and clumsily starting to move their bodies to the rhythm, grabbing Azriel's shoulders to mimic their motions. Azriel stumbled back, desperate to escape the situation, but Cassian persisted.
"Leave me alone, Cassian," he mumbled, brushing his brother's hands away with his gloved ones.
"Why don't you ever dance with us?" Cassian whined, oblivious to Azriel's attempts to withdraw.
Azriel burned with annoyance, returning his attention to you and Lucien. But then, a tender voice spoke out behind him, and he knew it was Feyre even before turning around to see Rhys drunkenly laughing with Cassian as the other couple joined.
“Az, what are you doing, staring holes into Lucien and Y/N,"
"I--" Azriel faltered, trying to make sense of his emotions and jumbled thoughts. "It's just wrong."
He blinked, wondering why he had even gotten up in the first place.
"They're just drunkenly dancing; Elain is fine with it. You don't have to defend her honor here, Az," Feyre assured him, patting him on the back before returning to her mate.
Azriel stood still, smoothing out his pants and running a hand through his tousled hair. The club's hazy atmosphere seemed to envelop him, and he realized that the fae wine he had consumed tonight had hit him hard. Perhaps he had gone too far this time.
"Yes, yes, of course. I just thought Lucien should respect Elain..." he answered hastily, though he knew Feyre had already left. Shadows informed him that Rhys and Feyre had retreated to their more secluded spot again, and Azriel felt a pang of envy.
A couple of fae rammed into him, slightly spilling their drink and apologising in a haste as they realised who they had just knocked into. He glowered down at them and shook his head, stalking back silently back to the booth.
He walked back to the booth where Elain was still seated, nursing a pink drink.
"What was that all about, Az?" she asked innocently, though her doe eyes betrayed her knowing nature.
"It was nothing."
"You were clearly distraught, Az."
"My shadows sensed something was wrong, that's all, Elain."
"Lucien and Y/N?" Elain asked gently, her hand reaching for his gloved hands.
Azriel looked down at her delicate skin brushing against his black leather glove and he felt a sudden overwhelming contrast between the two. He removed his hand from hers, realizing how mismatched they were.
Cassian and Nesta complemented each other perfectly, a match made from the Cauldron itself. Feyre and Rhys shared a love and trust so profound, it was interwoven within their powers.
But what did he have with Elain, other than a forced interest in gardening and her white and pink flowers?
"They're just dancing, it's fine," he told her, his voice numb. He couldn't help but look back at you and Lucien, still writhing against each other on the dance floor in ways that supposedly platonic friends shouldn't.
Lucien's hands were still firmly on your waist as you both gyrated, laughing and singing along to the music. You'd blame it all on the alcohol the next day, if asked about your actions. Azriel knew that, just as he'd experienced countless nights where Cassian or Rhys had kissed him during similar inebriated moments.
Beside you two, Nesta and Cassian mirrored your movements, seemingly unfazed by the intimate nature of your dance. The club's flashing colors continued to shift and flash all around Azriel, in strikes of pink, blue and green but all he saw was red, and he did not
Know
Why.
---
read part three here dearies !!
taglist for shadows of destiny : @allyjoe755 @impossibelle @t0uch-starved-h0e @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @marina468 @cassan1306
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sapphicmsmarvel · 2 months
Text
azriel: mr loverboy
angst + fluff 
“boy you keep on blowing my mind, caught up in my emotions.” 
song: mr loverboy by little mix
Azriel always treated you kindly when you were just friends. But once that mating bond snapped, oh boy that’s where everything changed. 
You didn’t think it was possible that Azriel could get sweeter than he already was but he quickly proved you wrong. 
If he knew you had a bad day, he’d show up with your favorite flowers, candy or a new book. He always held doors open for you, made you walk on the side of a street that was least hazardous. Always listened to you, held you. 
You made sure to return that in tenfold. 
Because of past relationships, you kind of expected to see your partner have wandering eyes but as long as they came home with you, you always felt like you didn’t have a right to be upset. At least, that’s what they told you. But Azriel’s eyes never strayed from yours. He hugged his family but he held you differently. As if he wanted every part of your body constantly being pressed against his. 
However, if someone randomly came up touching him, he would either flatly look at them disgusted or politely decline depending on the social situation. He didn’t like hurting other people's feelings but he knew your scent was on him as well as his whole ass wedding ring. 
You and the Inner Circle were at a party in the Summer Court. Tarquin and his newly wedded mate had thrown a lovely gathering. Tarquin even temporarily lifted the ban on Cassian. As long as he didn’t go anywhere alone. 
You were too used to seeing multiple people throw themselves on your husband. But he didn’t even look at them. He kept telling them no and they just wouldn’t listen. 
But this night, a night of love and celebration, you watched one girl just push it a bit too far. You could see your mate trying to politely turn her down and not cause a scene that would distract from the newly wedded couple. 
So you did what anyone else would do. 
Walked your sexy ass over and plopped down on his lap. Put his face in your hands and gave him a big ole kiss. You ignored the snickers from his brothers and the gasps from the girl and just focused on him. He kissed you back eagerly. His hands coming up behind your back and holding you. 
You two pulled away, he smiled, a glimmer of affection and pure warmth was sent down the bond. “What was that for?” 
You smiled, “I just wanted to.” You didn’t wanna admit it was jealousy. However, your husband wasn’t stupid. He smiled knowingly and you rolled your eyes. You turned towards the girl and she had already left. 
Satisfied, you turned towards where Azriel was facing. You saw the Inner Circle giving you shit-eating looks. You did something no one would dare do to their High Lady however you got special privilege. “Shut the fuck up.” You murmured. She threw her beautiful head back and laughed. She knew all too well how you felt about Azriel’s admirers. She felt the same about Rhysand’s. Nesta tipped her glass to you, she also knew what it was like fighting off the admirers. 
You leaned back against the warmth of your mate. A welcome contrast to the cool summer breeze on the patio. 
After a bit more dancing, Nesta and Cassian retired to bed, Rhysand and Feyre quickly following. After a quick goodbye to the happy couple, you and Azriel began a walk by the beach. 
“So do you prefer the sandy beaches or the rocky beaches of the Night Court?” Azriel asked you. 
“Honestly, I’ve always hated sand. Blegh, the herpes of nature.” You shuddered. 
He let out a loud, unguarded laugh and you found it the most beautiful sound. Usually, after a comment like that, your past partners would scold you. 
But Azriel embraces you. He held your hand even tighter. 
“But we wouldn’t be able to be barefoot in the Night Court.” He argued. “Yes, but we also don’t know what germs are touching our naked feet. I’d rather have protection. What if you step on glass in sand?” You said back. 
He gave you a pensive thought. “It seems we agree to disagree.” 
“You like the sand?” you asked softly. You’d put up with it for him. You’d put up a lot for this man.
“I don’t know what it is. It just feels nice.”
“Then we should look into a vacation rental here.” You squeezed his hand. 
“No, no you hate-”
“Hey, I hate sand but I can put up with it if it means I get to wake up to your sexy naked body in the sun.” You gave an overdramatic shiver. “Lord, they’re gonna have to put me in church for the thoughts I just had about you.” 
He let out another laugh, you wanted to preserve it in a jar and just open it to hear it. “Besides, a vacation rental would be nice. Just imagine,” You held your hand out in front of you as if to paint a scene. “A nice cabana, windows and doors wide open, curtains blowing in with the breeze. Fresh fruit and seafood waiting for us. The smell of sex and ocean water. A goddamn wet dream.” 
But when you turned your head, you just saw him gazing at you full of love. “I’m looking at the only dream I’ll ever need right now.” 
Your blush could’ve rivaled the earlier sunset. “Sap.” 
“You love it.” “More than anything.” You said, all traces of joking gone. 
You somehow were able to hold him tighter as you two continued walking 
“Thank you for earlier by the way.” You whispered. 
He looked confused, “what?”
“You didn’t entertain that random girl. I appreciated it.”
“You…you don't need to thank me for not looking at other people?” He was even more confused. “You’re my mate. My wife. You come first, always and forever, baby.” He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips to kiss your hand. 
You got a bit embarrassed.  “I’ve never been anyone's first choice, so it’s kind of crazy to me that I’m yours.” You admitted. 
His heart slowly broke that you had never had someone treat you like this. He pulled you both to a stop. “You’ll always be my number one. Even above the Night Court. Above it all.”
“I’d never ask you to put me above your job, Az.”
“I know, hence why you’re put above it.” He pulled you in to kiss your forehead. “You deserve the best, better than me, I don't know how the Mother paired-“
“Shut up,” You snapped with no real bite. “You’re wonderful Az, I’ll always tell you that.”
He conceded, “we’re perfect together.”
“Fuck yeah we are.” You said bringing him in for a kiss. 
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daemonshooker · 10 months
Text
She was made for me // Daemon targaryen x sister
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Summary: After Daemon catches his sister with a knight, their tensions rise and they have sex and after they have sex they get caught by their father.
Warnings: +18, smut, targaryen incest, jealous, fingering, violence, pussy licking.
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The big hall was full of people, they were eating and dancing. Princess Rowena was sitting with her family at the table set for them, the chair next to her was empty. She was beginning to wonder where her big brother was when he entered the hall in all his majesty. He bowed his head slightly in respect to the king and then took his place at the table next to his sister. For a few seconds, his eyes flickered to his sister. She looked gorgeous as always. Her red dress was gathered with pink tulle, her neck was open to her breasts so that her breasts stood out. She wore gold bracelets to secure the tulle sleeves to her wrists, the gold showing the wealth of her house. Her wavy silver hair was braided once in the back so that it did not cover her beautiful face. Daemon could not take his eyes off her.
"You're late... as always." Her voice was calm. She took a sip of her wine, watching people dancing in front of them. He grinned and turned towards the dancing people. "What? did you miss me?" He said in a mocking tone and took a grape from the bunch of grapes in front of him and popped it in his mouth. Rowena sighed in exasperation at her brother's answer.
After a few moments of silence, she turned to her brother. "So when are you going to ask me to dance?" Daemon grinned at his sister's sass. "What's the magic word?" Rowena rolled her eyes. "If you don't ask me to dance, I'll find someone else who will." Daemon could never deny Rowena, she was the apple of his eye. But when she spoke like that he wanted nothing more than to put her over his knee and spank her. He sighed, got up from his chair, held out his hand to his sister and smiled. She took his hand with a smile, they moved towards the dance floor and blended in with the other people dancing. "You know, you're sweeter when you obey." She smirked at him. The dance was intimate, Daemon knew he could kiss her but he just smiled, not willing to give up the game he was playing. "Well, I'm not so sweet when I disobey little sister." He whispered in her ear. "Just ask the ladies I've been with." Her smile faded and she stay silent for a minute. "So where have you been? Brothel?" He smiled at the jealousy in her voice. "I spent the afternoon with a lovely lady. She was so cute and shy, I could see her melt in my hands." She smiled, refusing to let jealousy overtake her. "It's good to see you having fun, brother." He pulled her closer hardly. "How about you little sister? Did you get a handsome knight to carry you away?" Daemon teased. "I did." She smirked to him. "Who was this lucky knight? Can I meet him?" Daemon said, giving her a playful look. "Maybe..."
At the dance the partners changed, Daemon was paired with a lady, while his sister was in the arms of another man, and then Daemon lost sight of them. He danced with the lady at his side and did his best to ignore the jealousy and resentment as he looked at Rowena dancing with another. He kept his calm and kept his mind focused on other things. After awhile Daemon had finished dancing and went to find Rowena again hoping she wasn't with that man still. He realized that his sister was no longer in the hall and he left the hall to look for her. After about ten minutes of searching, he entered a dark corridor and his blood boiled with what he saw. It was his sister Rowena kissing a knight, the knight's hand was holding her ass through her dress.
He angrily went towards them. "You whore!" He shouted and grabbed Rowena by the arm and pulled her to him, she was shaken by the momentary pull and didn't realize what had happened. "Daemon?" She didn't know what she was feeling, she knew Daemon wouldn't hurt her, but she had never seen him so angry. He was holding her arm so tight it hurt. "Is that what you do? Were you whoring while I was gone!? How many times?" He shake her even more and raised his voice even higher. "How many times? How many people touched you!?"
"Let go of me." She pulled her arm out of his hand, no fear in her voice or expression. Daemon grabbed her chin and pulled her to him. "I'll kill you, you filthy bitch." The knight grabbed Daemon's arm. "My prince-" Daemon's anger increased tenfold. He let go of Rowena and angrily turned to the knight and punched him in the face. The knight fell to the ground with blood on his face, daemon got on top of him and continued punching him, not letting him fight back. "Daemon stop!" Rowena grabbed her brother's arm but daemon pushed her to the ground. "You son of a-" Rowena angrily stood up and started walking quickly down the dark hallway. When Daemon saw his sister starting to leave, he got up and started to follow her. "Where do you think you're going?" She kept moving fast without stopping. She was aware that her brother was coming fast behind her. "To father. I'm going to tell him you're acting like a rabid dog." She said in angry tone
Daemon's didn't care what their father might say. "Father can suck my cock. Just wait until I tell the king that I found you getting fondled by a commoner!" he shouted, tightening his grip on her. "What would he say that, you whore?" He shouted at her. "Stop calling me whore!" She shouted back as she climbed the stairs. "Then stop acting like a whore!" Rowena quickly climbed the stairs and started to speed down the hallway to her room, she could still hear daemon coming up behind her, he was still yelling at her. She stormed into her room and slammed the door in Daemon's face. She locked the door and could hear the daemon pushing the doorknob. "Open the door, Rowena!" he yelled at her and started banging on the door. "Fuck off..." She paused for a second or two and then continued. "Bitch!" Daemon got even angrier. "I said open the fucking door! Or I'll break it!" Rowena didn't answer. When Daemon saw that she still didn't open the door, he kicked it. It didn't break immediately, so Daemon kicked it harder this time, the lock broke and the door swung open and the prince walked in. Rowena was shocked, she didn't think he would break the door. "What the fuck did you do?!" She pointed to the door. "You were lucky it was me! What if Dad saw you like that? Have you ever thought how he'd feel? Did you ever think how I-?" He said the last sentence with more anger but he couldn't finish it. "Why do I always have to think about the others? Why can't I do something for myself for once?" He approached her. Daemon pulled her close by one arm and grabbed her chin with the other, forcing her head to tilt up. He looked at her and the love and anger inside him were mixed together. He wanted to kiss her so badly, and he wanted to hurt her.
Rowena felt his warmth on her lips as she tried to break free from his tight arms. She stopped struggling as a feeling of surprise and relief washed over her body and she slowly closed her eyes to the feel of his warm lips. Daemon moved his hand, which was gripping her waist tightly, to the nape of her neck and pushed her against himself even more. He wanted to hurt her but even the feeling of hurting her made his blood run cold, he was fighting his own emotions inside him, anger, joy, desire, love, he didn't know what to do, he just kept kissing her. When they broke apart to catch their breath, Rowena looked at her brother's green eyes with her blue ones, the surprised expression on her face hiding the excitement she felt.
She freed her hand from daemon's grasp and without wasting a time she grabbed his cheek and brought him to her lips once more. This time it was more passionate, more aggressive, as if they felt like if they didn't hold each other tightly they would slip away. Daemon explored her mouth with his tongue, his excitement and desire growing more and more. Daemon wrapped his free hand tightly around her waist and guided her towards the table, refusing to let his lips escape hers. When Rowena felt the hard wooden table behind her she already knew where this was going but she didn't care, she let herself fall into his arms. Daemon's one hand went from her neck to her hair and started tugging at it, while his other hand had already found her breasts. He was squeezing and caressing them through the dress.
Daemon couldn't stand it any longer and brought both hands to the chest part of her dress, it was a good quality fabric but it split in half, unable to withstand Daemon's strong tugging. Now her perky breasts were fully exposed. Daemon pulled away from his sister's lips, his right hand stroking one breast and pinching her nipple, the other breast with his tongue and sharp teeth. His free hand was making sure to grab her small waist and pin her to the table. Rowena was filled with the painful pleasure of his bites and squeezes, little moans escaping her mouth as she tried to make it easier for the daemon by removing the gold bracelets from her arms, after removing two bracelets and throwing them on the floor, daemon used his hands to pull the dress off her shoulders and watched it fall to the floor. Now his little sister was naked in front of him. Daemon's smile grew wider as he felt his fat cock straining against his pants, his pants were even a little wet and his crotch was starting to hurt. After spending a few seconds looking at her naked body, he grabbed her again and sat her on the table, spreading her legs apart, feeling like a hound off its chain, running towards its prey, he placed his hands on her inner thighs and laughed when he felt the wetness running down her legs as he prepared to touch his lips to her sweet little cunt.
He looked at Rowena's face and smiled again at the look of impatience and desire on her face. "Come on..." She said in an impatient and quiet tone, ready to beg if Daemon rejected her. After Daemon looked at her one last time and chuckle cruelly, he knelt in front of the table and grabbed Rowena by the legs and pulled her a little closer to him. He spread her legs wide apart and brought his face close to her pussy and left a little kiss before he started, when he ran his thumb along her slit he shook off the thought of spitting on her pussy and wetting it, because it was wet enough. He spread the wetness all over her pussy with his fingers. "So wet for her brother..." He teased. He then parted its lips and began sucking her clit with his tongue and licking her little pussy. As soon as Daemon's tongue on her, she let out a huge sigh and leaned back against the table and closed her eyes. She couldn't stop moaning as Daemon slipped his tongue inside her tiny hole. While he was fucking her with his tongue, his hand was rapidly stroking her clit. The princess writhed with pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the pleasure she was feeling as Daemon inserted two fingers inside her. "So tight." He teased, his fingers moving quickly inside her as his tongue continued to suck her while he used his free hand to lower Rowena's aroused waist. Rowena's moans became louder. Rowena was digging her fingernails into the wooden table in pleasure, the table was covered in scratches. Daemon could feel she's close but he didn't want to end the night with his mouth.
His hand immediately went to his belt and started to unbuckle his pants, which were almost bursting with bulge, and he pulled them down. Rowena stared at her brother's fat and hard cock, wondering how it was going to fit in her. Daemon laughed when he saw the hesitation and slight fear on her face, he knew what she was thinking. He moved closer to her and ran his finger across her lips. "It will fit... it fit before." He pulled her to him again and laid her face down on the table. Rowena was on her toes, daemon stood behind her with her legs spread a little wider and slowly moved his cock into her cunt, preparing himself for her and getting his cock wet. A small moan escaped the princess's mouth as he forced his reddened head into her hole. She was very tight. After a little more hovering over the hole, daemon suddenly thrust his whole cock into her tight cunt. Rowena screamed and writhed in pain. "Shh calm down, it's alright..." He said trying to reassure her with a smile. Slowly he began to thrust in and out. As her pussy became accustomed to his cock he increased the speed even more. The princess's cries of pain turned into cries of pleasure. The prince was going so fast inside her that it was hard for her to breathe. The room was filled with their moans. They were sure they could be heard at the feast in the great hall. "Ye- Yes... faster" Rowena said in a shaky voice, panting. Daemon spread her thighs apart with both hands to get a better view of her pussy and gave her a smack. He hadn't felt like this in a long time, his sister was made for him, her hot little hole was meant for him to ruin.
The princess's legs were trembling, Daemon came out of her and in one swift motion lifted her off the table, spun her around, lifted one leg and thrust his cock back inside her. The fruit platter and wine on the table shaked. Rowena and Daemon were now face to face. She quickly unbuttoned and unpinned his shirt and threw it in a corner of the room. Daemon held her leg with one hand and ran his other hand through her hair, sweat pouring from both of them. "Will you ever come near my knights again?" Daemon asked between panting moans, not slowing. Rowena was in no position to answer, so she just shook. "That's what I thought..." Daemon picked her up and laid her down, they were both very close. The prince grabbed her face and forced her to look at him. "Don't take your eyes off me!" He ordered fiercely, and as much as Rowena tried to keep her eyes open, they were closing in pleasure. Daemon was still moving in and out as the orgasm finally hit her, he felt her tighten around him and without much delay he filled her pussy with his seed. He lay on top of her still inside. She ran her hands through his wet hair, they were still panting. After a while of just lying there in silence, Daemon went between her legs. He watched his seed dripping out of her and ran his tongue over her cunt one last time. "Ahh your taste just so good." He grinned at her, rowena smiled and beckoned him back into her arms. Daemon approached her again and lay down next to her as she put her head on his chest.
"Are you going to tell Daddy you gave me your little pussy?" He teased her, she smiled with a blush... "Do you remember our first night?" She looked up at him. Daemon's eyes were closed, but he wasn't sleeping. "How could I forget, you were screaming like always." He teased her again. "No, I wasn't..." Her cheeks were a little red but she was smiling, she didn't want this moment to end. She could lie naked on the floor with Daemon for eternity. Daemon giggled at her answer. "Yes you were..." Rowena sighed deeply and laid her head back on his chest. "We used to make love in our parents' side room so we wouldn't be overheard... We were so young..." She smiled sadly as she reminisced. Daemon was smiling too, he wouldn't have traded those moments for anything. "They were very loud." They laughed together. Rowena looked at her torn dress on the floor. "You know, I spent a lot of money on that dress." She looked up at the daemon. "I'll buy you a new one." Daemon said slowly as he opened his eyes and looked at her. "Yes you will." She said coquettishly and playfully. Their faces were so close daemon put his hand on her face and pulled her closer to him and pressed his lips to hers once more until the sound of their father's voice coming from the hallway. They got up from the floor and daemon quickly picked up his pants from the floor and started to put them on. Rowena grabbed the covers off the bed and wrapped them around her just as their father opened the door.
For a few seconds Baelon stared in bewilderment at the broken door, at the torn dress on the floor, at the jug of wine spilled on the table, at his half-naked son and his daughter covered with a blanket. He wanted to be angry but he was paralyzed, the room was deathly silent, no one was saying anything, only the sound of the wine dripping from the table onto the floor. To break the silence the princess looked at her father and spoke with a smile. "Hi dad..."
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Sorry if it's too long 😭
You can say your request, if I like it, I can write & Please let me know your thoughts on the story. I love reading the comments. You can tell me my mistakes so I can fix them.
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spaceyaemonds · 1 year
Text
starry eyes sparking up my darkest night
pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader
summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both. 
warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?
notes: REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG. i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift
word count: 5.3k
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The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.
You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.
An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.
You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.
“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.
Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”
Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”
“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.
You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.
“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”
Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?
Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”
She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.
“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.
“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.
Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.
As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.
The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”
And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.
“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?
Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”
Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly
“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.
“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”
Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.
“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.
“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”
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Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.
Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.
You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.
Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.
You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.
Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.
His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.
His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.
You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.
He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.
Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.
“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.
“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.
“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.
You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”
Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.
His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.
It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.
Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.
His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions      that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.
Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.
“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.
When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.
You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.
“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.
His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.
Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.
He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?
“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”
You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.
“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”
Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“
His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”
His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.
“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.
Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.
You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.
You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.
You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.
After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.
When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.
Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.
“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.
He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”
You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”
He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.
“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.
Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.
With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.
You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.
Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.
“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.
This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”
His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”
Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.
“Oh, gods.”
It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.
A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.
“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.
His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.
“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.
Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.
“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.
You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.
Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.
Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.
“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”
You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.
You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.
The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.
A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.
There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.
A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”
“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.
“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.
“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.
“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.
It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.
“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.
“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.
“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.
“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.
His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.
Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”
He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.
“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.
His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“
“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.
With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.
Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.
He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.
He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.
“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.
His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.
He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.
An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.
The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.
When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”
A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.
With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.
His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.
“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.
You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“
His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”
His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.
He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.
“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”
He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.
He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.
A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.
He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.
Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.
His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.
“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.
You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.
“I don’t think-“
Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.
His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.
You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.              
He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.
His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.
Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.
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