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ireneispunk · 3 days

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Teach Me

Aemond Targaryen x female reader smut (Rhaenyra & Harwin Laenor Velaryon's daughter)

After your family gathers in King's Landing for Maelor's name day celebrations, tensions build between in more ways than expected. A lesson in High Valryian from your uncle Aemond causes a mutual infatuation to bubble over.

w.c: 9,398 (i know)

c.w: SMUT 18+ , targcest (uncle & niece), NO use of Y/N, oral (m & f receiving), afab reader, foreplay, unprotected p in v sex, the slowest of slowburns to ever exist, mild aemond angst, but also kinda soft aemond(?), fluff to finish ofc, small implied age gap, reader is briefly mentioned to have Srong features, pet names (in high valyrian), use of High Valyrian all translations in text as it is spoken (E.G "Rytsa Skorkydoso glaesā?" (Hi how are you?)) (i didn't translate these everytime bc i used them a lot so: mandianna = niece (child of your older sister), iāpa = uncle), pls let me know if i've missed any

a.n: so this came from a post i did the other day, and @sinistersnakey9419 gave me the idea for this fic and it had me giggling and kicking my feet fr. also, this took me like a week to write because i kept adding more plot teehee.

dividers: @saradika ♡

It was a week into your families stay at King’s Landing. The Red Keep was a familiar place, but it was no Dragonstone. Your Grandsire, King Viserys, had made it his wish of his for his family to be together to celebrate Maelor’s name day which was to be a multiple day affair. And he meant all of his family, regardless of the fabricated tensions that divided you. As Rhaenyra’s second eldest and only surviving daughter, you felt an unspoken pressure to help maintain the peace between the brothers of the family. One side couldn’t help but torment whilst the other was quick to defend his family by any means. You missed being back on Dragonstone, but this was an exciting place to be. Days were filled with activities befitting of a young lady, and you enjoyed spending time with your Aunt Helaena – both of you appreciated a sisterly figure from within each other. There was one presence you couldn’t quite understand. Aemond. Your uncle had watched you closely since you first arrived, it had been a time since you had both seen each other. He had grown into a very tall and incredibly handsome man; he was more pleasing to the eye than he should be. His large frame and equanimous demeanour loomed over you, even from the other side of a room. His gaze stuck upon you like a hound tracking game. You couldn’t help but assume, like most other members of his side of the family, he held nothing but judgemental distain for you and your brown-haired brothers.

The mornings were always the same, Viserys had wished for you all to break your fast together daily. That had started to dwindle until the King had heard of it and demanded you eat together regardless of his presence. It was going about as well as it had the past week, Aegon’s head in a cup, Alicent on edge at every second.

“The maesters have been helping us with our Valyrian.” Spouted Lucerys, he was sweet, too sweet and sensed a smog of tension over the room. Rhaenyra smiled, appreciating your brother’s attempt.

“Let us hear it then.” Daemon announced leaning back in his seat.

“Rēbagon se gerpa kostilus.” (Pass the fruit please). Lucerys seemed impressed with his statement, Daemon seems confused for a moment before leaning forward and sliding the dish of grapes over towards Luke. A short scoff was heard from across the table, Aemond sat casually, smirk laden on his lips.

“Something the matter, Uncle?” Jacaerys spoke through slight gritted teeth. Aemond raised a hand in a defensive motion, smile still playing at his lips.

“What my brother wants to say,” Aegon peeled his face up from the tablecloth and took a swig of whatever was in his cup at this hour, “Is that your ‘High Valyrian’ sounded more like Old Ghiscari.” Lucerys smile faded as he looked to your mother for reassurance. You sighed, looking down at you half-finished plate as yet another verbal disagreement erupted between the men in your life. You rose to your feet with more haste than you anticipated causing your chair to wobble and crash onto the stone floor behind you. The room fell silent, and you felt everyone’s eyes burning into your skin.

Your gaze remained vacant, lingering on the table, “May I please be excused.” You were embarrassed: of your outburst, your family’s inability to get along, your uncles’ comments. Mostly due to the fact they were right, Lucerys’ nor Jacaerys High Valyrian was perfect, and it just added to the rumours that spread about your family. Your mother had barely spoke an ‘of course’ before you took your leave, nails digging crescents into your palms.

Leaves rustled beneath your feet as you paced the grass of the Godswood, it was always a small sanctuary of peace for it’s quiet and empty nature. You closed your eyes and let the sun beam down on your face, if you imagined hard enough you could feel the cold breeze from your balcony at Dragonstone. A harsh snapping of a twig pulled you from your thoughts, your head shooting up towards the direction of the disturbance. Aemond stood a few paces away from you, palm raised in a surrendering motion. You released a breath you had been holding onto, bringing your hands together to fiddle with the clasp of your bracelet. “I did not mean to startle you, Mandianna,” He took a stride closer towards you, hands clasped behind his back. “You caused quite a scene. For a princess.” Your eyes stayed fixated on the ground beneath the two of you. This was the first time you had ever been alone with Aemond, and he was being agreeable? It was hard to deny how beautiful he was, even just from the stolen glances towards him. You knew about sex, parts of what it entailed. From a few detailed paintings to the small snippets you overheard from the younger handmaidens. You hadn’t spent an awful lot of time thinking about it apart from when conversations of finding you a match came around. That was until this week, something about being around Aemond meant fighting away thoughts of him a regular occurrence.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you picked up your chin to meet Aemond’s stare. It was softer, and more inquisitive than his usual piercing gaze. Your stomach dropped as thoughts of him bending you over and fucking you right here in the Godswood clouded your mind, how his hands would feel over your body, his tongue across your neck and between your thighs, how it would feel him sliding – “Keli jiōraton aōha ēngos byka genes?” (Cat got your tongue little mouse?). You felt heat rising towards cheeks and across your chest as you tried to mask your raised heart rate. You were pretty sure Aemond couldn’t read your thoughts, but the small smile that played at his lips made you feel otherwise. Something about your close proximity, the way you could make out each detail of his face, and his intoxicating smell had muzzled you. Lips parted to respond but nothing came out. You felt helpless in the best way possible. “A Velaryon princess who can’t hold a High Valyrian conversation, you disappoint me Mandianna.” Aemond turned on his heel, briskly walking towards the wood’s exit.

Maybe it was the need to please, the burning between your thighs, or the fact he was no longer facing you, but the words escaped your lips before you could even process what you had said, “Teach me.” The small wave of confidence dwindled when he turned his head back to face you.

“Teach you?”

“Teach me what you think I should know, Iāpa.” You didn’t know how he would respond, nor did you know how you wished for him to respond. Aemond raised a brow and smiled to himself, your small use of High Valyrian and how your statement could be interpreted in many different made him intrigued to see where this would lead.

“Tomorrow evening, after supper. Meet me in the library’s reading room.” Without needing a response, he once again made his way out of the wood, leaving you flustered and equally excited, yet dread filled.

As supper slowly began to drew to a close, your excitement manifested in a small bobbing of your leg. Actual conversation rang out between small groups on the table, Lucerys and Helaena had included you in there’s but all you could focus on was keeping your thoughts clear. Everything about Aemond drew you further in his lips softly against his cup, the way his index and middle finger tapped along to the quiet music that had been played, but most of all the way he would catch you watching with a satisfied smile. You partially walked back to your chambers, before feigning forgetting a ring behind at the table, and insisting to your mother and Daemon that it couldn’t wait until morning. Part of you wondered if you shouldn’t have lied, there was a simple explanation: getting lessons in High Valyrian from your uncle Aemond. Except this would not go over well with your immediate family. For you could hold a conversation in High Valyrian, it was Aemond you couldn’t speak to specifically. You were actually quite proficient in High Valyrian, not as much as you’d hoped to be but a whole lot better than your brothers. Whether it was common tongue or Valyrian Aemond rendered you speechless, and now you were willingly walking into a situation where he had complete control. You knew for certain how much you longed for him, but other than glances you couldn’t figure out what he truly felt. Part of you wanted to be under him at every moment possible but if he didn’t feel the same, if his glances were all a trick, you’d be ruined.

After stepping through the library, you took one final breath before opening the heavy oak door to the reading room. It pushed open with a small creak to reveal Aemond sat at the desk, tattered book in hand. “I thought you might’ve gotten cold feet,” he closed the book and softly placed it on the table, “Come take a seat.” He arose, pulling the wooden chair beside him out from the table, allowing you to sit down. You nodded your head slightly before taking a seat, smoothing out any creases in your dress. Taking a moment to examine the reading room in the dark, you noticed the two brass cups and a wine jug, along with numerous High Valyrian scriptures and books with plain parchment and a fresh quill. Aemond himself was wearing his usual attire, except his black coat had been unbuckled a few straps, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed, eyeing the wine. Everything seemed real of a sudden. You weren’t used to drinking wine, especially alone at night. Sensing your nervousness, Aemond picked up a cup and placed it in front of you, “Just because it is my drink of choice for the evening,” he poured a small amount into his own cup, “Doesn’t mean I expect you to partake, Mandianna.” You paused for a moment before shaking your head ‘no’ and sliding your cup away. “Very well, read this out for me, I want to hear what you can do already.” He relished in how you squirmed when he was close to you. You looked down at the papers in front of you, ‘Aegon the Conqueror, The High Valyrian Scriptures’. You knew all about Aegon the Dragon, but the words escaped you as Aemond stood behind you, left hand atop your chair, right hand holding up his weight on the table. You felt a few strands of his long hair tickle your shoulder, the closeness of him made you feel as if you could burst. “Go on then, read it.” He said, almost a whisper. His lips were so close yet still too far, you could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke but not the softness of his lips on your skin. This is the type of torture that scribes should mention.

“Aegon I Targaryen iksin se ēlī āeksio hen sīkuda Dārȳti se-“ (Aegon I Targaryen was the first Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and-). You paused as Aemond moved from behind you to stand beside the table.

“I didn’t say stop.” His firm tone excited you more than you wanted it to.

“se dārys va se Dēmalion Āegenko.” (and king on the Iron Throne). You continued, looking up to Aemond for approval. He nodded before gathering up the papers from in front of you and holding them in his hands. Puzzled, you turned to face him “But-“

“Too easy, you know how the story goes, tell it to me in High Valyrian.” Aemond looked pleased with himself as he sat back into his own chair that now faced yours.

You looked down at the floor for a moment, before continuing “Ziry kithsair bȳre hen sīkuda Dārȳti se-ziry se-“ (He conquered six of the seven kingdoms and-he a-nd-). Yet again, your words escaped your lips as Aemond’s gaze wandered over your body, free to visually devour your form now you were not in the company of others.

He inhaled sharply and rose to his feet, “Valyrio Eglie iksis iā kostōba udrir, se ēdruta sagon spoken hae mēre. Aōha udra issi nākostōbā, ao ȳdragon tolī rāpa. Eman daor drīve geptot naejot dohaeragon ao byka genes.” (High Valyrian is a powerful language and must be spoken as one. Your words are weak, you speak too softly. I cannot help you little mouse.) His words came at you fast and rather harshly, you hated the effect he had on you, and you hated how he judged you for it. You searched his face for something more, surely all of this was not over, the yearning looks, the candlelight, the wine, did it not mean something more? As your mind raced you looked towards the floor and wished it would envelop you. Aemond sighed, and placed the scriptures that you had read from under your chin and used them to lift you face up towards his. Your brows furrowed slightly as you looked up at him standing over you. “You don’t understand do you Mandianna,” He chuckled softly, tilting you head to his will. “Nyke would qogralbar ao ēva ao could gaomagon daorun yn ilagon isse ñuha baer mirre tubis byka genes.” (I would fuck you until you could do nothing but lay in my bed all day little mouse.) He dropped the scriptures onto the table, taking his leave with such haste that you felt he air pass by through your hair. Once his footsteps dissipated you felt as your jaw went slack. The wetness grew between your legs as you squeezed your thighs together, attempting to relieve some of the mounding pressure.

Your heart thudded in your chest like a drum, you swiftly shut the door to your chambers and tried to steady your shaky breathing. After shedding yourself of your dress you made your way to the vanity and undid your hairstyle of the day. As your fingers worked between your hair you imagined Aemond’s large hands making their way through it, your fingers delicately glided across the crook of your neck before resting upon the warmth of your chest. If Aemond wanted to play games then you would gladly oblige, except this time you knew he wanted to play.

Your reading was interrupted by the ever-persistent King’s Landing ladies in waiting, you’d usually grumble except it was the first day of Maelor’s name day celebrations and you were taught the importance of good first impressions. Today would be important as Lords and Ladies of every great house would be there and you were yet to find a betrothed who was approved by the heir to the iron throne, your brothers, and Daemon, who once sent a young lord away teary eyed with embarrassment. You smiled to yourself as the ladies working on you bickered between what way to style your hair for the occasion. “What about something mostly up, with a few small braids, and the red gem hairpins? I think that’ll match the dress I picked out for tonight.” They glanced between each other, smiled, and got to work on your dark hair. Part of you was filled with excitement, it had been a while since you had an excuse to dress up, and it was even more thrilling at the thought of catching Aemond’s attention over all the other Ladies present. As the late afternoon rolled around you were finally considered presentable to the guests in the great hall. You eyed your reflection, your hair lifted to expose your neck and clavicle, dark fabric fitted to your shape with delicate blood red beading sewn into the neckline and down the sleeves finished with your gold jewellery pieces. Just as the ladies were about to leave you had an idea, “Wait! Do you have any of the rose perfume oil?” You spoke with a smile. A few knowing glances were shared between the two eldest ladies as a younger one brought over the small crystal bottle before dabbing a small amount on each wrist and on either side of your neck.

The rest of your family waited beside the towering doors of the great hall, “Finally, I thought we’d all starve.” Joffrey spouted with a huff earning a short laugh from Lucerys, a half shove from Jacaerys and a raised brow from Daemon. Your mother waved them off and placed her hands either side of your upper arms, “What a beautiful young woman you have become, my sweet child.” Rhaenyra looked upon you with great admiration as always. You smiled and squeezed her hand as you all stood together as the doors were slowly pulled open. You could feel your heart beating in your ears as the chittering in the room slowly dissipated and all heads turned to face you all. You bore a brave face following after your parent’s movements down the steps and towards the King’s table. After greeting the king, you were all seated, the family had grown rather exponentially since Rhaenyra’s wedding to your father Laenor which you had heard many stories about. You sat towards the outer curve to one side of the table, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Aemond, already watching you. So not to give him the pleasure of your gaze, you made conversations with your family next to you.

A short clearing of a throat pulled you from your conversation with Jacaerys, “I am Jorick Lannister, your graces,” He bowed his head towards you, “I was wondering if I may have the honour to ask the Princess to a dance?” He flashed his best smile at you.

You looked expectantly to your mother and Daemon, “If you wish to, then go dance.” Rhaenyra grinned, she gently touched her own elbow against Daemon’s, and he muttered something about there ‘being worse choices in the room’. You stood up from your seat, perhaps a bit too eagerly and walked around to the side of the table where the Lannister stood. He extended his hand, palm up towards you and lead you down the few steps to the crowd of dancers. You stood a pace apart and looked at the man in front of you, he was certainly handsome, dark blonde hair that waved towards the nape of his neck, gentle grey eyes. As you looked into them something caught your eye behind them. Aemond was alert, not sat in his usual laid-back posture with his cup resting in his hand on the arm of his chair. He was sat forward, stiff as a statue and boring daggers into the back of your dance partner. You swallowed as you saw the grip he had around his cup; it was solid metal but from the look on his face alone it could crumble. The music swelled as Jorick took your hand in his and placed his other upon your waist.

As you both moved across the floor, he leaned in to speak to you “How are you enjoying the capital princess.” Jorick spoke above the music.

“There’s a certain beauty to it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss Dragonstone.” You spoke with truth.

Jorick chuckled, “Ah yes, it is the perfect home for a dragon. I do believe you would grow to like Catserly Rock your grace. It’s no island but the coastline is just as harsh, I miss the sound of it when I try to sleep somewhere new.”

You heartily laughed at his statement as he twirled you in a circle. “I have said that ever since we got here! But no one else seems to understand it.” While he laughed and agreed in return.

Meanwhile at the King’s table, Aemond’s jealousy bubbled harshly. Already did he have a hard time resisting taking you into his arms and treating you as you deserved, but watching another man, a Lannister at that, hold you the way he wanted to, enraged him. He counted the guards in the room to simmer his anger, but then imagined fighting them off as he cut down every person between you and him and taking you into an embrace. He was completely and utterly enamoured with you, ever since he watched you climb off of your dragon from a tower of the Red Keep. Gone had the child he knew as a babe himself and was now replaced with a woman who plagued his thoughts. Your darker hair that framed your face, eyes that crinkled when you laughed and held so much emotion, the way you smile brought him an unmanageable amount of joy. He couldn’t hate you, no matter if he tried. At this moment, he wished for it to be simple. That he wasn’t your mother’s brother, that he was just a Lord of some other house, dancing with you and holding you close. A world in which he could have you, touch you, without bearing the reprehensible disappointment of his mother or the feeling of his heart being crushed right in front of him. He had once and for all had enough after the 6th eager meek had hovered around you after each song had finished to ask for your hand. Aemond rose to his feet and made his way to you on the floor with large strides dipping in between the guests. Queen Alicent watched him with worry, he wasn’t known to dance or partake in many festivities like these.

You parted ways with your last dance partner and smiled as you were approached by yet another Lord, “My princess, I am Erich Baratheon and I would love the honour of-“ He started before being cut off by the sudden appearance of Aemond: he’d brushed past the suitor on his was to you, not harsh in any sense but it definitely took you both off guard.

The broad Baratheon was dwarfed by not only the Targaryen’s height, but his mere presence also. “Perhaps is it my turn for a dance, Mandianna.” The request seemed so lewd and intimate coming from him, despite it being what would otherwise be an innocent dance between family.

“I was just asking the Princess for a dance. Perhaps you may dance with her after?” The Baratheon mustered his bravest voice, a touch deeper than it had been a moment ago. Aemond’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he turned his head round and down with a rather dramatic tilt to amplify the inches between the pair. From this angle you could fully admire his jawline and neck. You imagined kissing across his sharp jawline, travelling down to his throat. At this moment you were so overcome with lust you imagine grazing your teeth against it and biting gently just to release some tension. After a very short stare off on the Baratheon’s end, “Perhaps not, uh- goodnight, Princess.” He had turned to walk away before even finishing his sentence, leaving you and Aemond face to face on the floor.

“That wasn’t very proper of you, uncle.” You spoke above a whisper, struggling to hold back a small laugh.

“Luckily it’s not so expected of me.” His face bore a small smile. An actual smile instead of a sly all-knowing smirk.

“I didn’t take you for a dancer either.”

“Well, someone had to put a stop to the herd of sheep begging to stomp on your feet all evening.” You couldn’t help but chuckle in agreement. Some of the Lords had been nice, decent dancers, with something to say. Others spent their time ogling your exposed skin or asking about your inheritance. You could not deny as conversations lulled between some of them, you imagined you were in the arms of Aemond instead. As the music began to swell, he offered you his hand which you gladly accepted whilst his other hand tentatively made its way to your upper waist. As he led the dance, he never looked away from you, it felt as if you were slowly melting into him. Able to ignore the few judgemental looks and quiet whispers from the people around you and just focussing on the man in front of you.

Back at the King’s table, your interaction had not gone unnoticed. Alicent’s worry had faded, she knew you had always been a sweet girl. She looked over to Rhaenyra who had already been watching her to gage a reaction and the two exchanged a small smile each. “Mother, are sister and Uncle Aemond going to get married?” Joffrey asked in matter-of-fact way, causing Rhaenyra to cough on the wine that she had sipped whilst Daemon chuckled and ruffled his dark curls.

You’d made a mental note to thank the gods for the current song choice, a slower one. Your hands flush together as the two of you rotated and eyes never leaving each other’s. As the end of the song drew close Aemond’s body moved behind you, left hand upon your waist and right taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. The latter part was not a usual for this particular dance. Your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel the strength of his torso behind you. “You know uncle, I have been wanting more lessons in High Valyrian, I think a few more and we could really make some progress.” It wasn’t 100% a lie, Aemond definitely could teach you some High Valyrian, but it was mostly an excuse to be in private with him again.

“Really? Because you did so well last time?” You could practically feel the smirk on his face from behind you. “I know you can ask a lot nicer than that Mandianna.” You shuddered softly at the sensation of his voice so quiet, whispering into your ear. The music pace picked up as you glided across the floor, heart beating within your ears. As the instruments came to a halt, you felt a sense of weightlessness as Aemond dipped you and held you there, so low to the ground you felt the ends of your hair touch against it. You eyed him, brows raised and chest rising and falling, feeling fully in his hands.

“Kostilus, Aemond.” (Please, Aemond) The words left your lips in a soft way that travelled straight down his spine. You could not identify the emotion that swept his face as he swiftly brought you to your feet and ripped his hands from yours. His eyes shut briefly, his hands flexing into tight fist, you were not sure what had happened. As you reached out for his hand he stepped back and kept his eyes to the ground before making his way to the exit of the great hall. You called out to him softly, but he soon disappeared in between the crowds.

Confused and a little hurt, you made your way back to your seat and looked at the remainder of your meal that had surely gone cold. You felt your mother’s hand rest upon yours, and you looked to her and smiled weakly. “Where did your uncle go sweet girl?” She spoke softly and quietly, as to avoid bringing your brothers into it.

“He mentioned that he had to go for something.” Your lie wouldn’t have fooled a stranger, let alone your own mother, but she did not pry. She gave your hand a small squeeze and gave you the mother’s look of ‘I’m here if you need me’.

Aemond briskly made his way down the corridors of the Red Keep. His hands met the roughened wooden doors to a balcony as he pushed them open and felt the chill of the night air cover him. It was not enough as he felt is blood burn hot, coursing through his veins and the sight of you in his arms. Your hair cascading down past you, exposing your neck, the way your breasts filled out your corset and raised with your breathing. That damned perfume you wore and how it mixed with your scent had been a drug to him this night. Your eyes that stared up at him like a doe and looked at him like he was a god. He couldn’t help but remember your soft plump lips, the way they parted slightly when he looked your way, how you bit your lip whilst saddling your dragon and worst of all: how deliciously his name sounded coming out of them. He had not yet heard you say his name, but it being paired with such a submissive plead made it all the more torturous. He slowly breathed through his nose; head tilted back resting on the bricks. Aemond was too infatuated with you to ever hate your effect on him. His frustrations only grew greater the more he knew you. He was at a grand dinner, filled with every food and treat he could ever imagine, yet all he wished to taste was between your legs. He decided then and there on that balcony that his affections for you must go. ‘It should not be so painful’ He thought to himself, after all, you only had a few short days left in the capital.

The following day started even earlier, with the second day of the celebrations taking place in the gardens. You yawned into the palm of your hand and watched as the front side pieces of your hair were brought back and weaved into a delicate braid. “You mustn’t stay up so late princess!” The handmaiden fretted as she pulled out the dress you had chosen yesterday. You eyed it, before glancing towards the window to see the sun breaking out through the clouds, giving you an idea.

“It looks like it could really warm up in the garden under the sun, I was thinking of wearing this dress instead.” You lifted the dark berry coloured dress up in front of your handmaidens.

“I think you may get cold your grace.” One of the younger handmaidens spoke eyeing the dress, after a harsh glare from the eldest maiden she continued, “But you will look perfect no matter what!” She clarified with a nervous chuckle. You smiled at her in reassurance and allowed the cluster of ladies to dress you. Once they had finished arguing over minor details you stood back to look at your reflection. This was a dress you had never worn before, meant for particularly warm weather. It was an off the shoulder cut, that capped your upper arms with a tie. The dark coloured material was thinner than your regular dresses and the skirt flowed with any movement you made. After trying to sound as nonchalant as possible you once again asked for the rose perfume oil. After a few dots were dabbed on your wrists and neck, you thanked your ladies and placed the delicate bottle on the vanity. Once they had filed out you reapplied a few extra drops to your skin before dropping a small amount onto your fingertips and ran it through the ends of your hair. You looked beautiful, and hoped this would gain Aemond’s affections once more.

The garden party was a success from the get-go. Conversations bubbled, drinks were poured, and the food spread was something to marvel at. You were walking through the flowerbeds, arms linked with Baela, both of your laughs travelling from reminiscing on moments from your shared childhoods. “I heard you and Aemond caused quite the stir last night.” Baela giggled, nudging her elbow into yours.

“Word does travel fast in the capital,” You laughed. “And it was not a shared commotion, he was the one who left in a rush after we danced!” You reasoned with her; slight frustration apparent in your tone.

“And what a dance it appears to have been, they’d be able to smell you from Pentos.” You frowned slightly, wondering if you had overdone it today. She turned to face you, placing her hand over yours. “I jest of course, anyone would be lucky to catch your eye.” Baela’s smile was genuine and reassured your worries. You looked around the crowds of people once more, eyes fleeting from face to face. “He’s still not arrived yet.” Your eyes met hers once again as you both burst into loud laughter.

After much convincing from Alicent and a more silent encouragement from approach from Helaena, Aemond was finally making an appearance at the garden party. He thought to himself ‘What could a child so young possibly want with such celebrations?’ He justified his annoyance for his affections for you by dismissing the whole day, but being Maelor’s uncle he was expected to be there at some point. He was mere seconds into his arrival at the party before he overheard a distinct sound that made his heart sting. The familiar song of your laughter rang out from across the gardens. Every fibre of his being urged him to look for you, just to turn his head and see your face once more. Against all odds he kept his eyes trained on the floor and made his way to a quieter corner of the event in an attempt to go against his instincts and hide from you. He stood with his cup, fingers tracing across the details, a few feet away from the largely untouched array of desserts.

You grew frustrated as you looked around once more for your uncle’s presence. “Drink this, it’ll relax your nerves.” Baela handed you a cup with a dark red liquid in the bottom of it. “I know, wine isn’t for you, but this one is sweet! I think you’ll like it.” You nodded and took a sip, there was a slight burn as you swallowed it, but the fruity taste overtook it, and you nodded in agreement with her. As Baela and Jacaerys began talking intently you decided to have a look the foods on offer. You took another sip of your wine, the sweetness made you crave the sugared fruits the cooks always put out after dinner. After glancing over each table filled with every animal you could think of, cooked in every way. Your eyes made contact with a cake that was almost the size of you. Peering round the corner of the tent your eyes spotted something even more tempting. Aemond stood to himself, brows furrowed and finger lightly tapping against his cup in slight sync with the distant music that played.

“Uncle! I thought you were not going to make an appearance.” You tried to hide your excitement as you stepped into the tent and faced him. He seemed taken aback by the sudden presence of someone. His gaze shot up from the floor and lingered on your body, fleeting from your face to the way your dress fitted your figure. Just as he thought he’d mustered the strength to speak a light breeze rustled through the gardens and cascaded through your hair. ‘That damned floral perfume’ he thought to himself as he tried to hold his composure. After taking in her appearance once more, he noticed something unusual.

“I didn’t think you to be a wine drinker.” He spoke to you, his jaw clenched stiff.

You giggled slightly, “Me neither! But this one is Dornish, it’s a lot sweeter.” You took a step closer to him and held up your cup to him. “Would you like to taste?” You looked up at him through your lashes.

‘Yes’, He thought. “No.” He answered bluntly, “Thank you, no thank you.” His Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he answered, and you tilted your head slightly.

“Well, there’s plenty if you change your mind.” You smiled at him and turned towards the desserts table, various cakes, fruit pies, candied treats, decorated the large table.

You placed your cup and traced your finger across the end of the table eyeing the selection, you spotted your favourite sugared fruits. “I love these!” You exclaimed as you made your way over to the selection: cherries, berries of all kinds, plums, and peaches. You selected one of the peach slices and looked towards Aemond to find him watching intently. You popped the slice in your mouth and closed your eyes and exhaled a small ‘mmm’. You eyed the remaining sugar on your thumb and index finger. You looked into Aemond’s eye and popped the tip of your finger into your mouth and sucked the crystals off and releasing your finger with a pop. He muttered a short ‘gods’ to himself as he watched you round the table, another piece of fruit in hand. You faced him and held out the small piece of fruit. “You should taste it for yourself Aemond.” Something changed on his face, he looked down at you and slapped the fruit out of your hand and grabbed you by your wrist and led you out of the tent into the empty corridor nearby. “Uncle, Uncle!” You protested quietly once you were led far enough away to not be heard by guests.

“Let go,” you demanded, pushing his hand away. You eyed him as he turned away from you, breathing steadily, hands balled into fits. “Why have you dragged me out here?” You exclaimed in a hushed tone.

“Why have I?” He turned to face you, “Why have I?” He roared, stepping a pace towards you. Stepping backwards you felt the stone walls hit your shoulders. “It is you, you who has poisoned my thoughts ever since you got here, you who has made even existing in the same room as you arduous yet being away from you nearly impossible. You danced with every fool this side of The Narrow Sea and even then, you could not keep your eyes on them and not me. Calling me by my name. Now today-“, He furrowed his brows, remembering the sight of you in that tent. “Gods.” He whispered, running a hand over his face. “Do you really wish to torture me so?” He looked up at you, fragments of defeat washing over his face.

You pushed yourself away from the wall, taking a step towards him leaving an impossibly small gap between the two of you. “Nyke pendagon bisa iksin skoros ao jeldan hen nyke, Iāpa.” (I thought this was what you wanted from me, uncle.) His jaw remained tense, as slight confusion washed over him. You rose to the tips of your toes to whisper to him, “Hen aōha byka genes.” (From your little mouse.)

Without hesitation you felt his large hand cup the side of your face, his other snaking around your waist, the force of it pinning you towards the wall. His fingers brushed down your face, resting beneath your chin. His thumb tentatively ran across your bottom lip. Aemond leaned down to the side of your face, “Tell me to stop, tell me to stop and I will walk away.” His breath fanned over you; lips grazing against your neck. It took all of your efforts to not crumble beneath him.

“Ȳdra daor keligon.” (Don’t stop.) Your breath was shaky as Aemond brought his face to yours. You placed a hand against his chest and leaned up to kiss him before a rumble of distant laughter reminded you both of your current location.

He grabbed your hand from upon his chest and led you down the winding corridors of the Red Keep, your slippers tapping twice as fast on the floor to keep up with his long strides. As you both climbed the spiral staircase towards the chambers, voices rang out on the floor in front of you. Aemond brought you both to a halt, keeping his back against the wall and pulled your back towards him to avoid detection. “Why did we st-“ You started before feeling his large hand covering your mouth. He whispered a small shush into your ear. A heat spread across you face feeling a large bulge in his trousers, just above your ass. Once the footsteps had completely disappeared, he climbed the rest of the stairs, hand still firmly gripping yours. His spare hand pushed open the heavy door with such urgency, crashed against the wall beside it. He pulled you into his chambers, almost pulling you off your feet before only breaking eye contact to close and lock the door behind him.

He stepped towards you, unbuckling his jacket from the top. “Tell me to stop.” He once again commanded.

“No.” You spoke so quietly you weren’t even sure it had left your lips, but Aemond had definitely heard it. He pulled you close, keeping your bodies flush and brought a hand to your hair, pulling you closer. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his lips graze yours slightly before delving into a deep kiss. You struggled to keep up with his desperate pace at first, feeling overwhelmed a gasp left your lips in an attempt to catch your breath. Aemond pulled away ever so slightly before planting a small kiss to the side of your mouth and kissing across your jaw.

“Turn around,” He whispered. You did as he instructed and turned your back to him. His hands gathered your hair and looped it over your shoulder. His hands traced down your back to the satin ties of your dress, before undoing the bow. You felt as his pulled your dress down your arms, down your torso and heard it drop to the floor in a light whoosh. You felt exposed, this was your first time in just your undergarments around anyone other than your handmaidens, and a man at that. His hands moved to the lacings of your corset, undoing each loop as his eyes consumed every inch of new flesh he saw. He tossed your corset to the side and pulled the rest of your undergarments off, and your arms instinctively crossed your chest. Grabbing a hold of your hand, he pulled you around to face him once more. A low groan escaped his lips at the sight of you before bringing your face to his in a deep kiss. His body led you to the foot of his bed, your back hitting one of the towering bedposts.

You let out a small gasp as his lips left yours and latched onto your neck. His hand came to your jaw and tilted your head back to look up at him. “Ivestragon nyke skoros jaelā.” (Tell me what you want.) His voice sent a heat that spread across your body.

“I want you to-“ You started before he cut you off, fingers gripping your hair slightly.

“Daor.” (No.) He eyed you, thumb tracing your jawline.

You realised what he was requesting. Your brain sped through thousands of scenarios you could’ve imagined before settling on one. “Obūljagon.” (Kneel.) You spoke with all the confidence you could gather. His typical smirk returned to his lips as he scanned your face. He was not sure what he had expected you to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. A welcomed surprise, he sank to his knees in front of you. You watched as his lips peppered small kisses across your hips, running his hands up your thighs. He parted your legs and lifted your leg up and over his shoulder by the back of your knee. You gripped the footboard of the bed to steady yourself. An almost growl left his lips at the sight of your pussy mere inches away from his face. A sharp gasp left your lips at the feeling of his large fingers spreading your wetness from your core to your clit.

He brought one of his fingers to his lips and sucked the tip of it, watching your face intently. “Mmm, all this for me?” He grumbled rubbing the inside of your thigh at a painfully slow pace.

“Yes- Kessa, syt ao.” (Yes, for you.) You felt your pussy clenching, aching to be touched. His fingers moved to your pussy, teasing your folds before starting to slowly rub circles across your clit. You let out a moan, desperate for more. A smirk painted his lips, watching you in this state. Surrounded by the plush of your thighs, your small moans filling his ears, watching your nails dig into the footboard just to cope with the sensation. His middle and third finger slid down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy.

Your eyes opened and mouth parted to question the lack of contact before you felt his two fingers slide inside of you. You let out a loud moan at the foreign sensation. He worked his fingers in and out of you at slow pace, admiring as he watched them disappear into you, stretching you out and covering them in your slick. He left small kisses on your inner thigh, keeping his eye on your face. “More,” You pleaded in between moans. Aemond considered teasing you further, before giving into your request. His sped up his fingers pumping inside of you, increasing the tightening in your lower stomach. He admired your face screwed up in pleasure for one more moment before latching his lips upon your clit. A loud ‘fuck’ left your lips, and even you were partially surprised by the vulgarity of your language before all you could think about was Aemond’s tongue. He alternated between furiously licking and sucking your clit as his fingers pumped at a rapid pace inside of you. Your other hand moved up the bed post, gripping it for dear life as the man beneath you pleasured you. Your hips involuntarily bucked into his tongue as your moans grew louder and more frequent. A moan that left Aemond’s lips vibrated across your clit pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name and felt your pussy clench around his quick fingers. He continued to thrust them inside of you and delivered a few final licks to your clit, only stopping when your legs began to quiver. He slowly removed his fingers from your pussy and planted a final kiss on your clit, earning a shiver from you. He wiped the wetness from his chin with his cotton shirt before moving your leg off from his shoulder and rose to his feet and held his hand upon your waist sensing your wobbliness. He raised his fingers towards you admiring the wetness that coated them. He brought them up to your lips and you opened your mouth, feeling them run over your tongue towards the back of your throat. You sucked them clean, watching his expression from beneath your eyelashes.

Despite how hungrily he had attended to you, he looked at you like he was starved. “Better than any of the sugared fruits down there.” He gestured towards the window, and you blushed at his remark. Never had you been filled with such desire; you had just reached your peak on Aemond’s tongue, yet you needed more. His hand collected yours, as he led you over to his bed. His lips once again found yours as he pushed you towards the edge of the bed. The backs of your knees hit the bed and you plopped down. His lips left yours and you looked up at him expectantly. His fingers gripped the ends of his shirt before lifting it off of his head and tossing it with the rest of the discarded clothes. You eyed the definition of his chest, down his stomach and his arms that landed either side of your head, pushing you down onto the bed until your head hit the pillows. His lips latched onto your neck and eagerly kissed down your chest between the valley of your breasts.

“You do not know how much I have dreamt of this,” His large hand travelled up your side to cup your breast, his hand playing with the plumpness of it before his thumb ran over your nipple. “Moaning my name, naked in my bed, all needy for me.” His tongue traced the perimeter of your nipple before taking it into his mouth, massaging it with his tongue and earning another moan from you. Those moans that could sustain him for the rest of his life he was pretty sure.

“I also dreamt of you.” You spoke meekly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. He raised his head from your breast, brow raised.

“And what did you think about little mouse.” His smirk radiated off of him. You dreamt of him. The tightness in his trousers had become almost unbearable, but he needed to hear your sweet voice talking about him.

“I was touching you, a-and you were enjoying it.” You spoke, interrupted by a moan or two from his touch stimulating your nipples. He hummed a small ‘mmm’ in response before he moving off you and laying beside you, back propped up against the headboard. You turned to your side and looked and him inquisitively, his hand rubbed slowly over the bulge in his trousers and your mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape. He patted the bed next to his hips and you knelt facing him, unsure of what to expect. His hands reached for the tie of his trousers before you reached out and placed a hand over his. “Wait!” He looked at you with a hint of concern before you continued, “Can I try? And you tell me what you like along the way?” His jaw stiffened for a moment before he moved his hand to tangle in your hair and bring your lips to his.

You pulled your lips away from kiss and moved to kiss his neck. You started tenderly, mirroring how he had kissed yours as your hand slid down his chest towards his trousers. His breathing became more uneven as your hands touched him. Your hand fumbled with the tie of his trousers, struggling to undo it before you removed your lips from his collarbone to concentrate on the tie. He watched as your brows furrowed together, he felt as if he could finish at the sight of you. Beautiful and naked, trying so desperately to get into his pants. You finally undid the tie and looked up to Aemond with a sheepish smile, “I am not used to trousers it seems.” You giggled, and it seemed by reflex he planted a kiss on your lips.

“Dōna.” (Sweet) Your cheeks burned with his affection.

Your fingers looped over the hem of his trousers, and you pulled them down along with his undergarments as he lifted his hips slightly. Your stomach dropped at the sight of him, his cock was large and red at the tip. You froze for a second – the paintings and stories had not prepared you as well as you’d thought. You watched as his hand came to his cock and pumped it slowly a few times. His free hand reached for yours and replaced it with his own, “Just like this.” You followed the movements he had previously made, concentrating on trying to make him feel good. A small hiss brought your gaze back to his face to see his eye squeezed shut and hands gripping the sheets beneath him. You slowly increased your movements, enjoying the feeling of his cock in your hands, as you noticed a bead of precum spill his tip. Working on instinct you leant your head down and licked your tongue in a broad stroke across the tip of his cock, tasting him in your mouth. His eye immediately snapped open, “Don’t-“ He groaned.

“Sorry I-, I thought it would feel good like it did for me when you…” You trailed off searching his face. He panted, bringing your face to his. He placed his hand over yours and continued pumping his cock indicating for you to continue. He rested your forehead against his and inhaled deeply.

“It does feel good, great even, much too good.” You watched him confused, if it felt so good, why couldn’t you do it? “The difference between you and I, men and women, you may finish as many times as you please.” His voice travelled over you like honey, his free hand sliding down your stomach and rubbed his two middle fingers over your clit. “I may only once, for now, and I intend to do it in your sweet pussy.” His fingers ran small circles over your clit causing a flurry of moans to leave your lips. Your hand continued to run up and down the length of his cock, but it was hard to think straight when Aemond touched you.

“Can I feel your cock inside of me too?” Your question was genuine, if not laden with lust. It was all Aemond needed to hear before his hand reached your hip pushing you onto your back. He kissed you, hungrier than ever, barely giving you chance to keep up.

“Mirros syt ao.” (Anything for you.) He said in between kisses. He spread your legs apart, eyeing your soaking cunt, and stroked himself a couple of times before leaning over you, elbow resting beside your head. You felt as he ran his cock up and down from your clit to your core, a low groan leaving his lips. “Remember to breathe deeply, Dōna.” (Sweet). You nodded, unsure of what to expect. Aemond’s weight shifted, and you gasped as his cock slowly slid into you. Your brows furrowed as the slight discomfort slid away and was replaced with a new pleasure. His cock bottomed out, and you reached your hand to his cheek, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. He slowly started thrusting, the pace was painfully slow, but he was determined to make you feel good. As his pace picked up, his cock continuously hit a spot in your pussy that his fingers did not, causing a rather loud moan to escape your lips. “Mazemā ziry sīr sȳrī.” (You take it so well.) His praise caused a familiar tightening to start to form in your stomach.

“I love the way you feel.” Your moans filled his ears, fuelling him to go faster. His hand free hand snaked between your bodies and found your clit once more. His thrusts pounded into you, as his fingers diligently worked at your sensitive clit. The headboard begun to crack against the wall with each movement, not that either of you noticed. The quiet but delicious moans that left Aemond’s mouth were enough to ride towards your peak, the coil in your stomach tightening as you gripped your nails into his back. “Fuck! Aemond!” You exclaimed. His large cock filling you up and his fingers playing with your clit caused your orgasm to wash over you, feeling yourself tighten around his cock. His thrusts became quick and erratic as you rode out your high and his groans growing louder and more animalistic as he finished inside of you.

He panted, dropping to his elbow, and planting a small kiss upon your cheek, before pulling out of you slowly. You groaned at the loss of the fullness, missing the feeling of him already. Aemond lay beside you, pulling you by your hips to have your back against his chest. As both of your breathing slowly returned to normal you felt a small shiver run across your body, now aware of the breeze through the window. Aemond’s hand came up and ran up and down the length of your arm and pulled you close. “Is it possible to remain here all day.” You sighed, cuddling the blankets in front of you.

Aemond chuckled, “It is not our name day.” He planted a small kiss upon your shoulder. “But I do think people may notice both of our absences.” He spoke softly, with a small amount of his serious tone peeking through. You groaned, liking the feeling of being in Aemond’s arm, in his bed.

“Aemond?” You questioned, turning slightly to face him. He hummed a ‘hmm?’ in response, opening his eye. “Kessa gaomā bona run lēda aōha ēngos arlī gō īlon return naejot se rūklun?” (Will you do that thing with your tongue again before we return to the party?). A playful smirk returned to his face as he shifted above you on the bed.

“Va moriot” (Always).

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aggressivedean · 2 years

Text

I’m in a parasocial relationship with the people I see frequently at my gym

#short king & nice hair guy & tall guy & old v neck guy & dark hair girl & crocs lady #oh and buff girl #legit look forward to seeing them in the gym

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campbell-rose · 3 months

Text

Hazbin Redesign Vaggie

Her name is V in my rewrite you will not catch me naming a character Vagina fucking vile

On the glowing bits – Vaggie is decked out in angelic weaponry. I’ll be honest, her knife shoes are inspired fully by Camille from league of legends. To keep her silhouette but remove long hair (because long hair is impractical for a fighter character who risks having said hair grabbed) by using the wings as a cape! Clever if I do say so myself. Initially i gave her the skirt she has in her final design, but like, she can’t fight in it. Thus, i imagine a nice little scene where she tries it on then rips half of it off for mobility. Have some doodles i did as i figured out her design :)

Also she is 6'6", tall queen to Charlie's 5'0" short king energy

#anti vivziepop #hazbin hotel redesign #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #stephanie beatriz giving us nothing #you go girl you're better than this dumpster fire

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ratskinsuit · 2 months

Note

Hiii!

Would it be okay to request a Lucifer x Imp!fem!reader? I was thinking something about the reader being insecure about dating Lucifer (either due to the vast difference in social ranking and/or the fact that the reader is short while Lilith was a tall woman) and he comforts her? If not, that’s okay!

Thank you!

My Other Half

Lucifer x Imp fem!Reader

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A/N: I’m so so sorry this took so long to get out. Yk the usual depression and writers block and adhd blah blah blah blah blah. I wrote the end to this at like 3am and was tryna not cry because random depression go brrrrr. Hope you enjoyed though and arnt go mad this took so long!

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Every year, since Lucifer’s falling from heaven, He has hosted a gathering of the finest and most powerful beings in hell, of eating and socializing, a sorrei. Filled with gorgeous women and handsome men, the delicious aroma of hundreds of plates of food wading through the area. Demons laughing and chatting with one another. dressed in the fanciest of suits and gowns. All of them having some high status of power compared to the other, more common folk of the streets.

Even in his depression, Lucifer had still continued to host these parties, yet he had enjoyed none of it. However this was the first time in 7 years that he had someone to bring to it, you, his girlfriend.

You two originally met when you started working for him as an advisor. His work preformence dwindling with his mental health. So Charlie hired you to go help him with his work and choices. And eventually you tow became closer, the relationship no longer being boss and employee.

When hell found out that the Lucifer, the king, started dating an imp, people had some… mixed opinions. The lower class saw it as Lucifer possibly trying to be inclusive, or making fun of them, while th uppers saw it as an embarrassment. Lucifer payed no mind to these comments, and you tried your best not to, but sometimes they got to you.

Your infront of the mirror in your shared bedroom, adjusting your dress. Your weaning a short sleeved red dress with a slit in the side and a V neckline. It goes down to your ankles. Your wearing fishnet stokings with a pair of dark black heels and a matching obsidian necklace.

You brush through your hair with your fingers, and see in the mirror Lucifer entering the room. He looks you up and down and smiles, walking over to you. He’s wearing a white suit with red accents, his red tie, darker than the accent, not yet done. His hair slicked back in a professional manner.

“You look absolutely gorgeous darling,” He coos, wrapping his arms around your waist, hugging you from behind and looking in your eyes in the mirror.

You smile, turning around to look him in the eyes, stroking his cheek. “Not so bad yourself Mr.Devil.” You smirk, fixing some fo his smudged eyeliner on the corner of his eyes . “Only for you my love.” He replies.

He blushes a bit, and you lean forward to give him a quick kiss. It lasts a couple seconds before you pull away pulling a disappointed whine from Lucifer. You snicker, reaching at his chest to do his tie. You smoothly tie it up, adjusting it once done and taking a step back “Perfect.” You smile.

Lucifer positions himself next to you, wrapping an arm around your waist, intertwining his right hand with yours. “Ready to go darling?” He asks, kissing your hand, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

The walk down to the banquet hall was pleasant. Not to far from your rooms. Making sense as it’s in the same building. As you two approach, the sound of laughing and conversing grows louder.

At last you two arrive, Lucifer opening the big doors. Everyone turns to him, feeling slightly awkward you scoot a bit behind him. Everyone claps as Lucifer welcomes and thanks everyone for coming.

You study everyone around, feeling out of place surrounded by all these high-class demons. As he finishes his welcoming, you two begin to walk around, Lucifer greeting people as you stand there, next to him. Trying to ignore the judgemental stares of others around you.

As Lucifer chats with other people, they completely ignore your presence, making you feel invisible. You honestly don’t know whether or not to be happy about it though.

After a little bit you and Lucifer are approached by a fancy looking lady. She has bird like features and is wearing a beautiful long dress. Her top is short, white fading to pink, with short puffy sleeves. Her skirt is long and flowing, 3 layered with a feather like texture. The top an off white with a black trim, the second bright white, and the third black layer. All tied together with a bright yellow tiara on her head.

“Lucifer, darling! How have you been?” She comes up, and Lucifer turns to her with a smile as they hug. “Ah Stella, great to see you as always!” He says, pulling back, fixing his shirt.

“Marvelous party, as always my lord.” She smiles, her posture and appearance full of grace, subconsciously making you straighten your own back. “Thank you Stella, I try.” Lucifer laughs, turning to you.

“My dear this is Stella, one of the Goetia Royalty,” he says, waving towards at Stella. You give her a polite smile, ignoring the way her face scrunches up at you. “Very nice to meet you, I love your dress.” You say, complimenting her, but she looks you up and down, judgmentally.

“I didn’t know that the staff was allowed to attend these types of events,” She says slyly, turning to Lucifer. You frown at her comment, wondering if you did something wrong. Lucifer. however just let’s out a chuckle, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Ah well no, but she isn’t actually a worker, this is my girlfriend.” He says, an unmoving smile present on his face.

Stella looks you up and down for a moment before bursting out laughing. She cackles for a moment before calming down and taking deep breath, wiping the tears from under her eyes. “Is..something funny?” Lucifer asks, raising an eyebrow at he behavior.

“You know, if I knew you were that desperate for a partner, I could have set you up with someone. I have loads of hot first-rate friends who you would just adore,” she says, shooting a quick glare in your direction, Lucifer didn’t quite catch; his smile faltering at her words.

“I appreciate it Stella but I’m very happy with who I am with right now.” He says, squeezing your waist. “Well if you ever change your mind just let me know.” She says, glancing at you one last time before wandering off to a group of other people.

As soon as she turns Lucifer looks at you, and you look at him, trying to conceal the sad look in your eyes. “I’m so so sorry about that, she can be a real drama starter sometimes, are you okay love?” He asks, searching you face. “Yeah, I’m used to it don’t worry.” You say, a smile on your face, trying to get past what happened. Lucifer squeezes your shoulder.

“Why don’t we go get some food for now?” He asks, and you nod, the two of you heading to get something to eat.

As you spent more time conversing at the party, you grew more comfortable, and tried to ignore the stares and whispering. Mainly from Stella and her friends, making comments about your class of imps and how you “unruly creatures” and how Lucifer should just ditch you beside it’s embarrassing.

Later into the night, you and Lucifer were chatting with a group of demons that run a large business, you can’t remember what it was about though. Lucifer turns to you. “Hey love, do you think you could get us some more drinks?” He asks sweetly, and when you agree gives you a kiss on the forhead before turning back to the conversation as you walk away.

You head to the table with the drinks, noticing Stella and some of her friends by it. She notices you and turn to her friends as they whisper and giggle, she sends a grin your way.

You choose to ignore it, probably just then talking bad about you again, beliving they won’t do anything.

You head to the table, grabbing two wine glasses about to fill them up, when suddenly you feel something spill all over the front of your dress.

You gasp and turn look down at yourself to see the wine spilled all over your new dress. “Aw, oopsie! So sorry darling, just bumped into the table. But don’t worry, I’m sure you have some clothes that… fit you better right? Like those simple imo clothes?” Stella gives you a fake pouty look, cackling.

Lucifer rushes over to you as tears begin to pool in your eyes. “Oh my god, my dear are you al-“ he tries to reach for you, scanning to see if your okay but you swat his hand away. “I’m fine” you snap, wiping at the tears beginning to fall.

You don’t look behind you, but hear Stella and her friends laughing and the people crowding to see what happened, as you rush to a nearby bathroom.

You scramble into the restroom, slamming the door behind you, locking it. You go over to one of the walls, sinking down to the floor. You rest your face in your hands, as you sobs and cry, ruining your carefully done makeup.

You hug your knees tightly, sniffling and rocking yourself back and forth, your chests heaving with the heavy breaths your taking.

You internally curse yourself for ever thinking your worth the king of hell. You. A simple imp. Your choked sobs die down to sift whispers, yet the tears never stopping streaming down you face.

You bury your face into your knees hander when you hear the door unlock and open, muttering a small “go away.” But they don’t, and you hear the footsteps come closer, stopping infront of you.

“Dear, what’s this about….?” You hear a voice say, peeking up to see Lucifer looking at you, kneeled down. He has a sad look on his face.

“…why me…?” You ask, and Lucifer opens his mouth to speak, furrowing his brows. “Stella’s right, why pick me and not some other better prettier more powerful demon…” you interrupt him, and Lucifer’s face falls.

“Oh darling…” he whispers, holding you and cradling you in his arms. “Why would you think I want someone else..?” He murmurs.

“Because th-there are so many other people that would be better for you..” you cry, leaning against his chest as he holds you tight, the tears beginning to fall faster down your cheeks, chest heaving.

He just shushes you, wiping them away. “My love I chose you, not anybody else..” he says, turning you to look at him with a smile. “I don’t care how powerful you are, your shape, size, color, darling I picked you.” He says, and you start to cry harder, burying your face in his chest. “B-… but why…?”

He just smiles, rubbing hand through your hair, rubbing circles in your back comfortingly. “Because when I met you, you made me happier than I have felt for years..” he says. “And I don’t care about anything else because I love you, no other woman will ever have my heart as the way you have.”

You sniffle, and he rocks you back and forth, his hand going to hold yours. He brings your hand up to his mouth giving it a kiss, before continuing.

“I’m so sorry how Stella treated you, I should have warned you before hand she is very judgey, it’s my fault sweetheart, and I apologize.”

You wipe your tears with the back of your hand. You lean against him as he soothes you. He hugs you tightly, ignoring your wet dress against him, staining his white tux from the red rubbing off. But he doesn’t care and just holds you closer.

“M…I. I’m.. sorry…” you mutter, and he shushes you. “Honey there is nothing to be sorry about. The only people that should be sorry are Stella and the other people who judged you based on what you look like and where you came from.”

“For… ruining the party..” you say, embarrassed, but he just chuckles. “My love that was just a bit of spilt wine. Nothing to fret over. You ruined nothing.”

You two sit there in silence for a moment, embraced in a hug together. “…thank you…” you murmer.

“For what, sweetheart?” He asks. “For… st-staying with me, and dealing with my bullshit… and not judging me…” you say, and he lets out a laugh at your second reason.

“Of course my love, he says turning you head to him and he places a kiss on your forehead.

You two sit there, finding comfort in each others warmth.

After a couple minutes Lucifer speaks. “So, we have two options. One; I can take you up to the room and you hang out there and then when the party is over, I come get you.” He inhaled; letting it sink in. “Or two, you can go to the room and get changed and come back out to see my chewing out Stella, and have a good time at the party.” You laugh at his option 2.

“Two. Definitely two.”

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A/N: this took so long I’m so sorry I have ADHD and procrastinate. But figure out a not-really-kinda schedule. I do a request, then do Headcanons or a story I chose, then request and so on. If you sent a request and it’s in the rules and has not been done yet, it will be done eventually. This wasent as long as I would have hoped but I think it still came out good! Hope you enjoyed, make sure to know you are loved and take care of yourself!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

#hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer magne x reader #Lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #Lucifer comfort #Hazbin hotel lucifer #fluff #Ckmfort #hazbin lucifer x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel

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beesonhoneytoast · 1 year

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Kamaboko Squad and how I think they’d react to you asking them for a hug

not a request, first headcanons post fsfsfsfs- this is pure fluff from my self indulgence. reader is gender neutral ofc <3

Tanjiro

sweetest boy, will ofcourse accept it

please hug him he’s very traumatised

“Oh, you want a hug? Of course! Come here.”

so soft

holds you tightly to him

loves your scent so he naturally wants you as close to him as possible

he sometimes likes hugs from behind (giving or receiving either way he loves them sm they’re highly encouraged)

likes burying his face in your chest or shoulder or lap or anywhere at all

if you have any places that are even remotely plush, he will bury his face into it

(me writing this rn:)

~~~~~~

Zenitsu

oh boy

you best prepare yourself

this boy will go feral

he will freak out, probably roll around on the ground and do a backbend (cue that one frame from season 1 when Tanjiro met Zenitsu before they fought the drum demon)

he’ll be screaming, crying, throwing up-

yeah-

he’s v dramatic and over the top with his reaction

but the truth is he’s so happy he doesn’t know how to react like-

he loves you? sm? he’s a simp?

“WHAAAAAAT?! YOU WANNA HUG ME?! YOU, A DEITY, WANTING TO HUG MEEEE?!”

literally just pull him into your chest and he’ll shut up

he’ll probably stop functioning but hey atleast you’re not hearing his ear-splitting screeching /lh

but from that day forward, oh gosh

you best believe every time this yellow haired golden retriever boy will scoop you into his arms no matter how short or tall you are compared to him

and he will swing you around

bc yes

~~~~~

Inosuke

king of the mountain is ofcourse also the king of being chaotic and feral

is honestly confused as to why you chose him of all people to hug

may be reluctant or hesitant cos the action is foreign to him

after all he grew up with boars-

but honestly once he does eventually settle into your embrace, he’s kinda like

“y’know this isn’t half bad… I don’t mind this.”

might will end up tackling you to the ground, knocking the wind out of you for some hugs afterwards

he will never admit to it, not even to you, even despite it being obvious, but he loves your hugs

literally will come up to you in the middle of the night sometimes after a mission and he’ll probably wanna put his head in your lap so you can scratch his head (aka the only time he willingly lets someone see his pretty face)

#demon slayer #tanjiro x y/n #zenitsu x you #inosuke x reader #kamaboko squad #gonpachiro kamaboko #kimetsu inosuke #kny x y/n #kny headcanons #kny x reader #kny fluff #inosuke being tsundere is so canon im

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arcielee · 8 months

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At last, when all of the world is asleep

Summary: A Dornish princess is the siren call to break the vows of the Kingsguard. Paring: Ser Erryk Cargyll x Dornish!Reader Word Count: 2015 Warnings: AFAB reader, plotting sexual situations, alcohol consumption, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, finger licking good. Author’s Note: Thank you to my beloved beta reader @sylasthegrim 💜 I appreciate you and your edits, always. Banner by @saradika Title comes from Hozier's lyrics De Selby Part 1 (are we surprised by this?) and the plot comes from this ask: "I want a beautiful princess to corrupt and completely ruin him and make him break his oath." Enjoy! Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @schniiipsel @aemondx @fan-goddess @babygirlyofthevale @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @snowprincesa1

The shudder was gratifying, trilling your spine with how his beard tickled the column of your neck, his lips both soft and warm, and the welcomed contrast of his teeth to taste. Your fingers grabbed to pull him closer to the cradle of your hips, burying your face in the nap of his neck and your mouth suckling on his pulsepoint with enough pressure to bruise; you felt him shiver, his voice strangled, husky, when he called out your name.

To that, you pulled back, abrupt, catching his gaze and your hand coming up to wag a finger. “Good ser,” you tsked, your lips curling upwards, “do not forget who I am.”

His eyes were glassy, the blue-gray storm that was slowly being swallowed by black. “Forgive me, princess,” he was quick to correct, watching for your response.

You gave another smirk, your arms reaching to wrap around his neck to pull him back into your embrace, his welcomed musk of blade oil against the perspiration of his skin. “Gentle ser,” you almost purred before capturing his mouth again.

He was not Valyrian, not the dragon you sought, but the knight was handsome still. And besides, you were sorely out of practice after the imposed propriety of Northern Westerosi customs and the role of a grieving widow.

When your father had first mentioned the prospect of marrying into the Velaryon House, the Valyrian blood called to you, a curiosity if your babes would be born with silver heads or the crystalline hues of amethysts eyes, and you were quick to accept the proposal. You packed away your dresses and left Sunspear, boarding the ship to travel the Narrow Sea and bring you to your betrothed.

The marriage had been disappointingly short-lived; your husband was everything you had imagined, handsome, tall, his silver hair knotted back and his clever purple eyes bright, watching you every movement with care, with desire. The consummation had a passion that carried over until dawn, but only after he was gone did your cycle follow to show it did not bear fruit.

“Do not fret, princess,” Princess Rhaenys offered comfort, “you will have plenty of try-agains when they return.”

But she had spoken too soon and you received word that his life was claimed in the Stepstones, though the real tragedy that followed came from the widow garb you were now expected to don. The seamstresses were quick to fit you with the heavy, itchy fabric that covered your skin and robbed you of what little sunlight spilled through to the gray island that you were caged in a figurative sense.

While your family by marriage grieved the life lost, you mourned your freedom, you mourned the sun you had left behind in Dorne, of the air on your skin that would show in your garments that were now packed away.

Hope came as a raven, sent by the king and queen of the Seven Realms, extending their sympathies and offering the opportunity to leave the gray slab of land in the middle of Blackwater Bay, with an invitation to the capital so that you could serve Princess Helaena as company. You accepted with the same breath as you finished the words out loud, your claimant that your father’s intention wished you to be an envoy for Dorne, when really your sights were set on a Targaryen prince, your Valyrian bloodlust.

King’s Landing was bright, bustling with life; you were escorted from the docks inside to the Red Keep where you would meet with the royal family, astutely aware how every set of eyes followed your steps; you gave a wistful sigh, certain of the attention if you could be rid of the widow gowns.

Gratefully, the queen was considerate of the temperature change in comparison to Driftmark, and the seamstress was sent to recede the fabric in your neckline and sleeves. It still was far from the comfort of your own dresses, but considerably better after half a year of bereavement. It was a taste of freedom, and you dared to add subtle touches of make up, nothing exorbitant, just a touch of tinted beeswax to gloss your lips, a smear of kohl to frame your eyes.

Dorne was a nation that always embraced its sexuality, a sharp contrast to the pious King’s Landing that was laden with symbols of the Seven. You were determined to remarry–two Targaryen princes unwed, two possible dragons to claim–but to catch a dragon, you had to lay an enticing trap, but you wondered if you were rusty with the enforced bereavement having you feeling like a maiden once again.

So your attention turned to the piety of the Kingsguard that shadowed royalty’s every step. There were those whose gazes lingered well outside what would be deemed appropriate, the blatant, heady lust that enveloped the color of their irises and the bold reds that tainted their features–to which you scoffed.

A challenge was what you craved, and then you spotted him; his copper tones in duo, though the twins could be distinguished by how they held themselves, as well the fact that Ser Arryk served as Prince Aegon’s shadow.

Your eyes trained to the other, Ser Erryk Cargyll, the flutter of your lashes when he looked in your direction, the demure dip of your face to coyly cover a smile meant for him to see.

He did not fracture with your attention, but you–Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken–would not be dissuaded. It was a tantalizing game, something you swore to be playing solo until you spotted it; the tension held in his features by the shackles of his oath, a tick in his jaw or the flit of his smoky blue eyes in your proximity.

You chose a night to drink, indulging in the imported Dornish wines, a singsong request to be escorted to your rooms that the queen was happy to oblige.

“Ser Erryk, would you please help the princess to her quarters?”

And now you were at the edge of your bed like you were seated on the throne, watching the Kingsguard that was kneeled so prettily between your thighs spread. He is beautiful, you mused, looking over the warm tones that touched his features, clashing with the copper coloring of his hair.

He looked up at you, now bare from the waist up, his eyes wide, watchful, waiting for your command, your very breath of direction so that he may obey you; he was an incitant sight, from the cobalt ash coloring of his eyes, wet and wanting, to the flush of pink on his kiss-swollen lips.

“Please,” his voice was thick.

You could not help your smile, and asked with your slow drawl. “Please, what?”

“Please, princess,” he began again, his head tilted further to show the length of his neck, and how it bobbed when he swallowed. “Allow me to taste you.”

You indulged him, enjoying the vibration of his groan with his intimate kiss between your thighs made your own skin ripple with gooseflesh, along with the soft tickle of his beard. But he was a man starved, lapping without purpose until your fingers combed through his hair and pulled him back to meet with your smokey gaze.

Ser Erryk watched rapt as you lifted your hand, holding two fingers up; you could see the lustful pools of black claiming the coloring of his eyes, the bloom of rust of his beard around his mouth, the glisten of your arousal that shone on him.

You brought your fingers to press to his bottom of his mouth and he obediently wrapped his lips around; you giggled from his eagerness, from the tickle of his tongue on the pads of your fingers. The spittle broke and added to the rust when you pulled back, his eyes following as your pressed between your folds, watching you bring pleasure to yourself, showing him just how you needed to be touched.

A pitiful whimper spilled from the Kingsguard before you allowed him to feast again, and he returned with vigor, with purpose. Your wanton moans echoed against the cobblestone. “Princess,” he breathed against your wet cunt, “you must stay quiet.”

This was impossible to do; your time as a widow left you touch starved and your body was trembling, overly sensitive to his every deliberate touch–how he flourished with the bit of direction shown, and now, oh the gods, the pleasure curled something beautiful at the base of your spine, something sparking with familiarity from what felt like a lifetime ago.

Then you felt the pressure of his fingers, the careful add of one and the another, and they pushed within you, searching until you saw colors dancing in front of your eyes; Ser Erryk was pleased, focused, pulling you towards the precipice and it washed over you; your skin rose, your nipples pebbled, the cry-out from your lips and clenching response as your pleasure rippled over you with a vengeance, with its reclaim.

You laid there for a moment, the blood rising to your skin, your chest rising and falling with your breaths, a drunk smile on your lips.

The knight was now fully bare and was careful to move on top of you, the pale alabaster of his skin and its marking from his service was so warm to the touch. His palms were large, calloused and gentle to peel off your chemise over your head, the tickle of his kisses that worshiped every bit of your skin now showed, glowing with the attention from his mouth.

“Ser Erryk,” you gasped as he shifted between your thighs, “please.”

He obeyed, flushed, fumbling, his hand dipping between to trail your silken folds, to map your entrance and reached to line himself. He showed consideration with the slow motion of his hips, another gasp from your lips as he filled and stretched your velvet walls; Ser Erryk moved as if you were glass and you wrapped your leg around his slender waist, pulling him flush against you, wishing to be shattered beneath him.

It was all the encouragement needed and he rutted against you, his hot mouth biting into the nap of your neck to muffle his guttural groans. Your mewls were lilted with laughter, the crest of pleasure that rolled over with each of his thrusts; your hand dipped between to tip you over the edge once again.

The knight could not withstand the sinful clench and he pulled back, a desperate clutch to allow the pearly ropes of his spend against your stomach, his staggered breath as he watched your own fingers coax through your completion. There was a heady look between the two of you before he pushed back to rest on his heels, and you pressed to your elbows, bringing your fingers to your lips and cleaning them, your eyes never leaving his.

Ser Erryk blushed, pulling away and allowing you to admire his form, the lewd, intrusive thought, the sword in his hand and the sword between, as he moved towards your washbin and returned with a damp cloth; your eyes never left what swayed between his thighs with his each step. He was bashful, handing you the cloth while avoiding your direct gaze as you cleaned yourself, starting to dress himself.

You pushed from the bed, unabashed with your bare skin, sultry steps towards him to assist him with donning his armor plates to his lithe figure beneath his gambeson. When you finished, you could see his hesitation perched on his tongue and cannot help but toy further with the knight.

“Good ser,” you tone low to match your steps, and your weight shifted to accentuate your every curve, “can I trust you to always escort me to my quarters when needed?”

His jaw steeled beneath the reds of his beard at your implication, his tick returning as the shackles tightened again. It was a pregnant pause before his eyes met with yours, and you half-expected to see the beautiful blues, but were pleased to see his darkened gaze.

“Whatever you wish of me,” and his low timbre thrilled you. “Princess.”

arcielee's masterlist

#ser erryk x you #ser erryk x reader #ser erryk cargyll #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd smutty smut

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prttykittes · 6 months

Note

ooo may i request a small drabble of Barou/fem! manager! reader who sexually provoked him to the point of anger and frustration and he takes it ot on reader? Perferable I’d like the reader to be described as tall yet concerningly slender but if that makes you uncomfortable that is completely fine! dubious consent and semi public sex yes

Take care 💋💋

Yeah I can do it! ～⁠(⁠つ⁠ˆ⁠Д⁠ˆ⁠)⁠つ⁠｡⁠☆ — I really don't like barou's hair tbh but I hope you enjoy! I hope you take care as well! ༼⁠ ⁠つ⁠ ⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠ ⁠༽⁠つ

๑ Barou x Fem!Manager!Reader [she/her/you/your]

— Synopsis:: you were in a mood and started to sexually provoke him. He started to take his frustration and anger onto you, things get messy.

CW. Semi-public sex, dubcon, squirting, rough sex, hate sex(kinda), reader is described to be slender and tall!, sexually frustrated, P in V, teasing, reader is 18-19 and BAROU is 18, almost getting caught, fingering

A/N :: a blue lock ask! Yippe !! — written by a minor xoxoxo

[MASTERLIST] — (⁠✿⁠ ⁠♡⁠‿⁠♡⁠) works here

You were surprised by you managed to get a job at blue lock, you were at first watching players with Ego. You would help Anri with stuff and the blue lock players, you noticed that a player who was called the "King" he was a good player and "own" the field. Anri said that I would be a manager for the "king's" team to make sure their in check and not roughing each other up. He was very good while practicing, you managed to talk with him and spend time with him. It was like you guys were best friends! He didn't see you that way, after getting more closer to him...You decided to tease him, you saw the stares he would give you for your body! He was confused at first then his expression turned to an angry one. You continued to tease him but then started to sexually provoke him. You heard him growled, despite that warning you continued on. You think that you saw a tent forming on his shorts, he was digging his nails in his thighs. "Fuck—" you heard him say, suddenly he grabs your hand and drags you to the washroom. "H-hey!" Your tall form is dragged towards the washroom, his hands were gripping yours harshly.

He pins you against the door of the washroom. "Fuck— look what you did to me" he says, you look down and see a tent in his shorts. "Woah— your dic—" before you could finish he turns you around, you are facing the door as you can feel his hands running down your slender body. He pulls your pants down and soon your damp panties, some of your liquid drools onto the ground. You gasp and try to turn around, he pulls down his shorts and his underwear. You can feel his dick hitting your ass, he reaches over for your chest and rubs it. You gasp and bite your lower lip, you can feel his three digits poking at your entrance. You gasp some more and push yourself lower in his digits, he notices and shoves his digits into you. "MMH!" You bite your lower lip, you heard some players walking towards the washroom. You try to turn around and stop him but barou continues to grope your chest and finger you. "H-hey stop it!" You whispered to him but he shoves your body against the door, the players try to open the door but it doesn't open. "Hey, what the—" One of the players try to open it and the other one tries it. "I think it's locked" BAROU continues to finger you, his fingers reaching deep inside. The footsteps disappear from the washroom, you sigh as you can feel something bigger against your folds. "wha—" you look down on you can see a mushroom tip, his dick goes between your folds and moves up and down. You shiver and moan, his dick Pike's your entrance as it goes inside. You jolt up and his dick pulls out slightly then he rams back inside you. "AHh!" His dick immediately hits that spot inside of you, he doesn't stop his rough movements. He grips your hips and roughly shoves you on his dick, your hips will get bruised and he will make sure that it will. Your slender body is fucked against the door, you grip the door handle as some of your juices manage to slip through his dick onto the floor. He reaches over and rubs your clit, you moan loudly as you legs shake. He furiously rubs as he continues to fuck you, you moan loudly as you couldn't hold in your pleasure. He pulls out as you squirt over yourself and over the door, he flips you over and cums on your stomach. His white cum covers your stomach and lands on your cunt, you moan as he holds you up. Provoking him was a amazing thing to do.

#kittymilk #kittypussy #kittytail #x reader #x reader smut #blue lock smut #x fem reader #x female reader #blue lock x reader smut #barou x reader #barou x reader smut #barou shouei x reader #blue lock x reader #cw.dubcon #tw.dubcon #blue lock x female reader

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humanpurposes · 11 months

Text

My Heart Belongs to Daddy, part v, modern!Aemond

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // She's the first one that I see

modern!Aemond x step-daughter

Warnings: 18+, smut, language, questionable relationships, you know the drill, also mentions of terminal illness.

Words: 9300

A/n: Aemond's pov here we gooo. This part gets its own header coz vibes. Also available to read on AO3.

Another summer brought another two months at Dragonstone.

The relief Aemond felt clambering out of his mother’s Volvo and into the coastal breeze was immeasurable. Helaena got the front seat, as always, which left the three boys to be packed into the backseat for two hours, in the middle of a June heatwave.

He somewhat resented Daemon and Laena’s absence this year. Generally they alternated summers between Dragonstone and Pentos with the Velaryons. It was a shame, his uncle often brought some much needed tension to family holidays, the entertaining kind as opposed to the depressing kind, and Baela and Rhaena were by far the most tolerable of the younger family members.

Viserys hadn’t arrived yet. He had some work things to catch up on and would drive down later, which just left the Strongs. Alicent had received a call from Rhaenyra while they were in the car to say they’d be a few hours behind them. Thank the Gods. At least it gave them a few hours of peace.

Dragonstone had originally been built as a castle, preserved over the centuries as a place for pleasure rather than a defensive keep. It had a gatehouse, turrets, arrowslits, parapets and ivy sprawling over the outer walls that turned red in the autumn. It looked idyllic, like a castle out of a fairytale.

After bringing his bag up to his room there was only one place Aemond wanted to be.

His favourite part of coming back to Dragonstone were the gardens, sprawling walks of greenery, sweet-smelling rose bushes and sandstone archways. If the weather was right, he could convince himself he was in some remote corner of an Italian manor house.

One of the gravel paths led down to the pool, overlooked by a patio from the back of the main house. It was a blissful little oasis, when he could have it to himself, of crystal clear water, tall hedges and blue and orange tiles laid out in intricate patterns.

He had his trunks on already and left his t-shirt and shorts on a sun lounger before he slipped into the water. The cold was a welcome reprieve, especially when he dunked his head under and pushed off from the side, cutting through the water with powerful strokes.

It had been a while since he’d had time for swimming and he felt slightly irritated at the ache in his arms from the unfamiliar movements. To be fair to himself, he hadn’t made time for any hobbies over the last few weeks on account of his exams, and it had paid off at least. He still had a few weeks until he would get his results but he knew he would do well.

As far as he was concerned, his future was set. He would get four A*s, then in September he’d be off to Oldtown to start university. In three years, he would graduate with a first and come back to King’s Landing to start at Targ Corp, despite his grandfather’s attempts to convince him to consider a career at Beacon, the Hightower family business. Otto had a vision that one day, his grandsons would run two of the largest companies in Westeros, Aegon at Targ Corp and Aemond at Beacon.

Although the offer of a generous salary and an internship during his studies had sounded tempting, it was a question of pride more than anything. The silver hair should have been evidence enough; Aemond was a Targaryen before he was a Hightower.

Despite his determination to live up to the family name, he had come to resent these summers at their ancestral home. The house and the gardens were beautiful, and he loved being so close to the isolated beach below the hill the house was set on, but he could think of no worse fate than having to spend ten weeks with his insufferable sister, their father’s pride and joy, her idiotic husband and their three sons.

He ran his hands over his face as he emerged on the other side of the pool, his left palm skimming over the scar on the side of his face. It was easy to forget it was there sometimes, until he’d catch someone frowning at it.

Rhaenyra was lucky his mother hadn’t pressed charges and publically issued a statement that the whole thing had been a “tragic accident”. Later he learnt Alicent had been holding it over Rhaenyra’s head ever since, waiting for a time when she’d need the leverage.

Ten weeks with the Strongs was all that stood between him and the rest of his life, some sick test of patience.

He wasn’t alone for long before he spotted Aegon and Daeron at the outlook up at the house. They sprinted out of view and soon came hurtling down the steps to the pool in their trunks. They leapt in, disturbing Aemond’s laps but he reluctantly let himself be happy that the three of them were in the same place for once.

Aegon had just finished a degree in criminal psychology. Alicent and Otto had had to practically buy him a place at KLU. How he had managed to pass was a mystery to everyone, Aemond wondered if he had pulled it together at the last minute purely out of spite. He had already been living in a flat in central with a few of his friends for the last two years. Helaena said he rarely visited the house.

Aemond and Daeron had barely been back from Duskendale before they were all in the car to Dragonstone. He hadn’t minded boarding school, in some ways it made him appreciate the times he got to be at home, and it meant he didn’t have to see his father on a daily basis or watch his mother drive herself insane with her self-imposed workload. Again, Helaena gave him updates on that. He supposed it would make the move to Oldtown less jarring.

For now he laughed as Aegon challenged them to swimming races and tackled Daeron when he lost. The oldest Targaryen brother was surprisingly strong for his shorter stature. Daeron towered over him but he was wiry, easy for Aegon to sling him over his shoulder.

They were making such a scene in the water that Aemond didn’t notice his mother until she shouted Aegon’s name from the bottom of the steps. “Put your brother down and get changed, seven hells!”

Aegon tossed Daeron’s legs over his head, sending him flopping unceremoniously into the pool. “What’s the rush?”

“Rhaenyra and Harwin are only half an hour away!” Alicent shrieked, as if this was something they should have cared about. “And they’re bringing a guest, so I want you all presentable and ready for dinner before they arrive.”

Daeron was starting to climb up the ladder, so Aemond pressed his palms to the edge of the pool and pushed himself out.

“What guest?” he asked, reaching for his towel from one of the sun loungers.

Harwin’s niece.

She’d been a flower girl at Harwin and Rhaenyra’s wedding, but he only knew that from the photographs. He didn’t remember the last time he must have seen her, probably some family gathering with the Strongs, before Luke slashed a knife in his face and they stopped seeing them as often.

Aegon seemed eager for “fresh meat” as they marched back up to the house.

Daeron was more sceptical and shot Aemond a concerned frown. “Just what we need, another Strong kid.”

After a quick shower, Aemond changed into a white t-shirt and a pair of dark green cargo trousers, and made his way through the maze of hallways and ornate staircases. He found his parents in the reception hall, a spacious room located at the front of the house, leading off from the entrance hall, going through to the dining room on one side and the drawing room from the other. It was where they usually lingered when the arrival of a guest was imminent.

Most of the visitors to Dragonstone considered this to be the most impressive room in the house, with its tall stained glass windows, silver chandelier, walnut panelling and carved columns supporting a gallery on the first floor.

The smell of smoke and charred wood drifted from the fireplace, mingling with the musk of antique velvet sofas. Alicent was torn between typing something on her phone and discussing some arrangement with their head of security, a deceptively young looking man with black hair named Criston Cole.

Evidently Viserys had arrived. He was sitting in a red armchair, taking small sips of a glass of whisky. He looked up when he heard footsteps against the floor, and offered his son a vague nod.

Helaena and Daeron weren’t far behind Aemond, and Aegon was of course the last to make it down. He insisted it was “perfect timing,” because the moment he walked into the room, Cole received a call from the front gate.

Daeron perched on the windowsill and jittering like a puppy as a black escalade pulled up before the gatehouse.

Within minutes Viserys was throwing his arms around his favourite child. Aemond cast a cold glare over Harwin, Jace, Luke and little Joffrey, clinging to his father’s hand with his thumb in his mouth. The sixth guest followed behind them.

Her hair was pulled away from her face, wide eyes sweeping curiously over the people, the paintings on the walls and the antiques in glass cabinets. The beginning of a smile spread across her lips, but her face fell when her eyes met his.

Aemond sucked his teeth into his lips. He was used to people looking at him like that, or averting their gaze altogether. He could only imagine what Jace and Luke might have told her about their cruel uncle and his horrible scar.

At dinner she sat on the other end of the table from him, between Harwin and Jace. She was a few years older than her cousins but they all seemed to get on well, joking and smiling at each other. It made Aemond’s blood boil.

Daeron made a point of introducing himself to her but he suspected this show of hospitality was mostly because she was pretty.

She really was pretty though, and quiet, but not necessarily in a nervous way. She seemed content to listen, smiling vaguely at the things people said, feeling no need to fill the silences. When she did smile– properly smile– it was wide, bright and unashamed.

He overheard her mention an interest in history as dessert was brought out, asking Rhaenyra and Viserys all sorts of questions about Dragonstone’s origins and architecture. He thought of a few books in the library he could recommend but dismissed the idea. When Aegon suggested giving her a tour of the house he felt his grip on his fork tighten.

Dragonstone was large enough that even with most of the family there it was easy to feel alone, and Aemond spent the first few days of their stay doing exactly that. In the mornings he’d go for a run, then head down to either the pool or the beach for a quick swim. He had his reading list for uni already and was making his way through a textbook on political philosophy, which he read either in the library or a quiet corner of the garden.

Daeron and Aegon were far better at being civil with Jace and Luke than he was, and she seemed happy to tag along with their antics. Aemond avoided them where he could.

One afternoon he decided to take his textbook to the patio at the back of the house, and winced at the shrieks of laughter coming from the pool. He was going to head back inside but found himself stepping towards the balustrade, looking over the greenery to the unnaturally blue water.

She was sitting on the edge of the pool in a red swimsuit, with her legs in the water. Even from so far away he could make out the details of her smile, her teeth, the roundness of her cheeks and the way she squinted her eyes.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, until a gentle voice pulled him from his trance.

“Aemond?”

His heart almost stopped and he spun around immediately. An awful feeling sank into his chest, like he’d done something wrong.

Helaena was standing in the doorway, in a pale blue sundress and purple sandals. “Me and mum were going to drive into the village, if you’d like to come?”

Maybe some time away from the house would do him good. He nodded and uttered a quiet “yes.”

She came onto her tiptoes, trying to peer past his shoulder, but from where she was standing she wouldn’t have been able to see what he was looking at. Maybe she didn’t need to see. Another few howls of laughter drifted up to the patio, and a cry of “Aegon, you bastard!”

Helaena sighed and smiled. He left his book on a table in the entrance hall and followed his sister out to the gatehouse where Alicent was already waiting in the Volvo.

The village was just over a ten minute drive away from the house. Aemond leaned his head against the window in the backseat, feeling content in the blur of vibrant greens and blues. He could have fallen asleep to the hum of the air con and the voices of his mother and sister.

Until he heard her name.

“What?” he mumbled, absentmindedly, shifting himself in the seat and catching Helaena’s eye through her overhead mirror.

“She’s starting her A Levels in September,” Alicent said. “Politics, philosophy and history, same as you.”

He had also taken an extra class in High Valyrian, but he wasn’t going to hold it against her.

“You’d get on I think,” Helaena added, pushing her John Lennon-esque sunglasses on top of her head. He could see she was smirking.

Aemond huffed and went back to staring out the window at the fields, the sky, the sea and the wildflowers growing at the side of the road. He could say he didn’t care about their guest but it would have been a lie. He couldn’t get that red swimsuit out of his head.

Eventually he started agreeing to the occasional beach trip or tennis match. Turns out he quite enjoyed spending time with his nephews when he could beat them at something. And it meant he could see her more often.

There were these odd moments, when he’d catch her staring at him over breakfast or by the pool, that got his hopes up a little, only for her to quickly look away and find someone to fawn over, usually Aegon or one of her cousins. But then she’d find him in the garden and ask about the book he was reading, or sit next to him when they lit a campfire on the beach, just brushing her leg against his.

They could be confusing but he liked those moments. Every day he woke up ectatic that he would get to see her, and that they might talk about politics or philosophy or a shared love for Daphne du Maurier or the Great Gatsby.

He needed her alone, just once.

He got the chance on the last weekend of July. Alicent, Rhaenyra and Helaena had gone to Rosby for the day, while Harwin had been talking about a trip to Dragonstone harbour to go fishing, something Daeron sounded rather enthusiastic about. Leaving him, Aegon and Viserys at the house.

After a late breakfast, Aemond went up to the library with the next book on his reading list, An Introduction to Essosi Regionalism. He was rather taken aback to see her sitting at the writing desk by the window. He had assumed she had gone to the harbour with the others.

In a sudden and awkward motion she stood and turned to face him, with wide eyes and a small smile.

“Sorry,” she said, pointing at the desk, “did you want to–”

“No.” He instantly regretted how short and final he sounded.

Her eyes dipped and he realised he was clutching his book far too tightly.

“I was only looking really,” she said, reaching back for her book, a biography of Queen Alysanne.

“You like history,” he said, intending it to be a question but it sounded more like a statement.

She smiled again, at his mistake, he guessed. “Yeah, it’s incredible getting to spend so much time here, it’s a beautiful house.”

He stepped forward to place his book on the desk behind her, noticing the sweet citrusy scent of her perfume and the way she tensed up when he came too close.

“I could show you around, if you’d like? I mean, you’ve already been here long enough and you’ve probably seen most of it by now–”

It was only when she put a hand on his shoulder did he realise his head had dropped down to the floor.

“I’d love to,” she said.

Suddenly his chest felt a little lighter.

He showed her his favourite parts of the house, except the library which she had already seen, obviously. She had so many questions, noticed every detail and traced her fingertips along the ancient stone walls with a look of wonder that made his heart flutter.

Then they came to the long gallery overlooking the reception hall. He pointed out the fan vaulted ceiling detailed with gold and the line of portraits of hundreds of years of Targaryen history, monarchs and more recent family members. She was especially fascinated with a portrait of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne with children. She could put a name and a story to every face.

She turned her head towards him and her breath hitched when she realised he was looking at her. His first instinct was to back away and apologise, but she didn’t move or say anything, just looked up at him with those pretty eyes.

He wondered if he should kiss her. He’d never tried to kiss someone before. It should have been simple enough but it felt so daunting. What if he did it wrong? What if she didn’t want him to?

He saw her eyes flicker to his scar, and felt like he understood.

“Do you want to look at the old solar?” he asked, already walking towards the north door at the end of the gallery.

Behind him he heard her mutter a quiet “yeah.”

He rushed through the last few rooms. He could hardly catch his breath or think beyond the choking feeling in his throat or how hot the house seemed all of a sudden.

“Do you want to go outside?” she asked when he suggested going to the Maegor suite.

He nodded, and followed her down to the entrance hall, where they ran into Aegon. He was in trunks and an unbuttoned shirt to show off the tan on his abs.

He glanced between them with a strange look in his eye. “Beach?”

“Sounds good!” she said with a bright smile. “I just need to get some stuff from my room.”

Aegon grinned at her, then at his brother.

“I’m good, thanks,” Aemond grumbled, and went to spend the rest of the day sulking in his room.

Something was different about her after that. She stopped asking so many questions and rather than smile at him when they passed each other in the hallways she sighed and put her head down.

He really didn’t have much experience with these kinds of things, and he sure in seven hells wasn’t going to ask Aegon for advice.

He wished there was something he could do, but every time he thought about trying to talk to her he pictured her eyes on his scar and decided he’d rather spare her the trouble.

August went by far too quickly and then she was gone.

His time at the University of Oldtown brought some interesting experiences.

People seemed to respect him in a way he wasn’t used to. His lecturers complimented his work and his commitment to his studies. His classmates listened to him when he spoke in seminars, asked for his opinions on current affairs and invited him to lunches and parties.

He felt like a novelty in Oldtown, people wanted to befriend him, be seen with him, earn his approval. He felt shallow for admitting it, but the newfound attention felt good.

When he went back to King’s Landing that first summer, everyone said he was different. He’d always been interested in sports but he’d committed to a gym routine, shed some of the baby fat and toned out nicely. He traded the trackies and sports trainers for black shirts and leather jackets, got his ears pierced, drank whisky and smoked cigarettes on nights out.

And it turned out he wasn’t as hideous as he thought he was, in fact more often than not, the scar worked in his favour when it came to flirting.

After graduating he spent the summer in Oldtown, on an internship at Beacon, until Alicent told him she needed him in King’s Landing. She needed a contender of her own to pose as Viserys’ successor against Rhaenyra, and it was obvious neither Aegon or Helaena were going to live up to her expectations. So he did as he was told and moved back home, just in time for everything to start going wrong.

Viserys made his will. Rhaenyra was set to inherit Targ Corp and just about everything else he owned, including Dragonstone. Fucking typical. She had always been his golden child, all that was left of his beloved first wife. His mother always said he never got over Aemma. Singling out Rhaenyra was his way of making it up to her.

But Alicent had been the one helping Viserys run Targ Corp for twenty years, while Rhaenyra’s only real talent was her ability to get whatever she wanted out of their father.

If Rhaenyra were to succeed Viserys, everything his mother had worked for would be for nothing, but Aemond could be the one to change that. He could bring Targ Corp to new heights and live up to the legacy of the Targaryen name. All he needed was for Viserys to give him that chance.

Alicent had been in talks with Borros Baratheon of Storm’s End, an energy company based in the Stormlands. A deal with them would open Targ Corp to a whole new industry, and maybe then Viserys would recognise the lapse in judgement.

The Storm’s End contract was everything and Alicent had trusted Aemond to see it through. Only it fell apart in his hands. One seemingly minor mistake and Baratheon was out.

Alicent was devastated and it killed him. The late nights and weekends working in the office when she should have been with her children, the constant spite and security from the corporate world, the tabloid news stories that called her a “gold digger,” and the years she spent chasing her husband’s approval had all been for nothing.

She never said it, but Aemond knew she blamed him.

It had been a shitty three months and by December he was exhausted. Daeron was back from Duskendale, Aegon was staying for a few weeks, and Helaena was adamant that they were going to have an enjoyable Christmas. She covered the house in fairy lights and put up a tree in the living room, decorated with colourful baubles that really had nothing to do with Christmas; rainbows, butterflies and bees.

The other three agreed to indulge her. Aegon suddenly became an expert at Christmas cocktails, Daeron was in a baking frenzy and Aemond put his old piano lessons to good use. He sat at the baby grand in the hallway for the first time in forever and played some old hymns mum used to make them sing. Until Aegon put the chords for Fairytale of New York in front of him, which he agreed was a much better song.

Alicent came in from the office on the 24th, rain soaked through her coat and her eyes red. She’d had a call from Lyonel Strong.

Harwin was in the hospital. Pancreatic cancer. He’d been ignoring the symptoms for years apparently, and by the time Rhaneyra made him get a diagnosis it was too late.

Nothing was an isolated issue. Mum, dad, Rhaenyra, work… everything fed off each other in a single spiral of chaos and grief.

He needed the space, he decided at a fundraiser on New Years Eve. He and Viserys had arrived together but they didn’t so much as make eye contact the entire night. Rhaenyra was understandably inconsolable, mum had refused to go, Helaena wasn’t cut out for these kinds of events and Daeron was studying for mock exams. He at least found solace in the knowledge that he was preferable to Aegon.

A woman with black hair caught his attention. She moved effortlessly throughout the room, martini in hand, which she sipped through dark red lips as she struck up conversations with the other attendees. Did she realise she was targeting the richest people in the room? Probably. She blended in well, in a black slip dress and a pearl necklace, but there was something else, glaring him right in the face.

She was familiar, but he couldn’t place where he might have seen her before.

She smirked when she realised he was staring at her. After ordering herself another drink she waltzed over to him and introduced herself as “Alys Rivers.”

He must have let a little of his shock show on his face, because she smirked again.

Alys Rivers. Harwin’s cousin. The woman with the pretty daughter who’d spent a summer at Dragonstone.

They chatted for hours, she was very curious to hear about the company politics at Targ Corp, the few months he’d been working there and the whole debacle with the Storm’s End contract. She told him about herself too. She worked for Harrenhal PR, alongside her brothers, but was looking to start her own company.

He asked about Harwin.

That was the only time her perfect persona faltered, just for a moment, but then she took a sip of her drink and she was back to business. She said she was doing alright. It was a shock, he was like a brother to her, and she was trying to make the most of the moments she had left with him.

“It makes you appreciate what you have,” she said. They had found a table in a corner of the bar, ordering too many cocktails. She sighed heavily and put her hand on her chest, over her heart, “I’m so lucky I’ve got my darling girl.”

He didn’t even need to ask before she started telling him more. She was in her second year of studying history at KLU, a bright student, a sweet and serious girl.

She said Harwin adored her, always had, even once things got serious with Rhaenyra and he started having kids of his own.

“Poor thing,” he said, “this must all be so hard on her.”

“She’s like me,” Alys insisted, finishing off another martini. Her words were starting to slur, but even when she was drunk she did it gracefully. “Nothing phases her.”

He could still remember the smell of her perfume, sweet and citrusy.

Alys’s perfume was dark, bitter and boozy. When he kissed her the taste of her martinis burned on his tongue. Vodka. He was more of a gin man.

Generally he tried to avoid one night stands, but it didn’t take much convincing before he found himself in her hotel room.

He spent the entire night on his back while she edged him relentlessly, with her hands and her mouth, before she finally rode him, whispering praises in his ear as she did it.

He decided it would be bad manners not to text her, so the following Friday night, they went to a steakhouse on Conquest street. It felt more like a business meeting than a date, they talked more about Targ Corp and her plans for her own PR firm. She had the ambition and industry knowledge, but needed the strategy and the connections to make it work.

“You and I could be a match made in heaven,” he said.

She paused midway through a sip of red wine, and raised her eyebrow ever so slightly. “I don’t usually go for younger men,” she said, “but you’re smart and uncomplicated. I think we could work something out.”

The line between business and pleasure was non-existent. They looked over contracts and business plans over coffee, accompanied each other to conferences and fucked in hotel rooms. She was straightforward, blunt at times but he found it impressive and refreshing. He never had to guess what she was thinking because she didn’t see the point in trying to hide behind niceties. Every time he complimented her confidence she said it was “a consequence of age.”

Things moved faster than he realised. Suddenly winter was turning into spring and Alys asked him to work for Rivers PR full time.

He found the wherewithal to tell Alicent and Viserys on a rare occasion that his father actually bothered to eat with them. He tried to be as casual as he could about his sabbatical from Targ Corp. It ended with an explosive row over the dinner table, leaving both Helaena and his mother in tears. Viserys was still shouting from the hallway as he packed an overnight bag and stormed out to his car.

He had to call three times before Aegon finally picked up. “Good for you!” his brother cheered down the end of the phone. “Who would have thought you’d end up like this though? Six months ago you were mum’s favourite son.”

“She just kept telling me I was selfish,” Aemond said, first the Storm’s End contract and now this. “And apparently Rhaenyra’s been up in arms about Alys branching off from Harrenhal, especially with everything that’s going on with Harwin.”

“Will you go to hers then?”

He was already heading towards central. “That’s why I called, I need somewhere to stay, I thought you could put me up for a bit.”

Aegon drew out an exaggerated “uhh,” and Aemond hung up, not in the mood to listen to some long winded excuse.

He gripped the steering wheel as he came to a junction and a sign for Queen’s Park. So much for being “uncomplicated.”

Alys was in a silk robe when she opened the door. “Mummy and daddy kicked you out?” she asked with a pouty frown.

He insisted he had left of his own accord.

It was a beautiful terraced house, plaster fronted, overlooking the park. The interior was understated and elegant, dark wood floors, white walls and bursts of muted greens.

It was quiet too, and the only light came from the kitchen.

“Where’s–”

“She’s out with a few friends,” Alys said.

He followed her through to the kitchen, where she poured out two glasses of wine and he told her everything.

By the time he was done she had finished her glass. She looked into it, like she was surprised to see that it was empty. He hadn’t touched his.

“Are you planning on staying for long?” she asked.

For a moment he felt stupid for coming to her at all. He couldn’t quite figure out what they were to each other, and suddenly he was showing up on her doorstep and using her like a therapist.

“I called Aegon first but I think he’s busy. I can be gone in the morning if you want.”

She took hold of his shoulder, stroking her thumb over the fabric of his shirt. “You can stay as long as you need to.”

He looked at her. He was used to her expression being so smug and severe, but she looked gentle now, her eyes wide and full of pity. When he took a shallow breath he realised she was wearing the same, dark perfume from New Years.

He kissed her slowly, nudging his nose against hers and slipping a hand around her waist to pull her in closer.

She chuckled softly as she pulled away. “I’ll be off early in the morning. Take some time if you need to, sort something out with Aegon or��”

“Right,” he said, swallowing down the lingering taste of red wine from her lips.

They slept in her bed, with their backs to each other.

When he woke in the morning Alys was gone. He checked the time on his phone, 8am, and he had a text from her: Help yourself to coffee. Let me know what your plan is.

He threw on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before he headed downstairs. He quickly figured out his way around the expensive coffee machine and settled on a stool at the island with a cup of black coffee.

His hands were restless, tapping against the coffee cup and the counter top.

She was in the same house as him, probably sound asleep upstairs, though he hadn’t heard anyone come in during the night. Did she know he was here? She must have seen the car outside, but she wouldn’t know it was his.

He’d hardly even considered the possibility of seeing her again until now, but he hadn’t expected things with to Alys to go this far.

He looked down at his phone. Maybe staying with Alys wasn’t such a good idea. He started typing out a text to Aegon when he heard the door to the kitchen open.

“Hello again.”

She stood in the doorway, squinting her eyes at him, hair loose and tousled, in nothing but an overused Black Sabbath t-shirt that covered the tops of her thighs. She looked a little dishevelled and utterly perfect.

“Hi,” Aemond said, putting his phone down and reaching for his cup. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I got a text from mum. She said she had a guest and I was free to ignore him or kick him out.”

“Have you decided which?”

She huffed a laugh and there was that smile again, though not as wide as it had been that summer. “I felt like being nosy,” she said.

She moved towards the sink and filled a glass of water, which she finished in one go, with a sound of satisfaction. She drew the tip of her tongue between her lips and set the glass on the counter before she turned to look at him again. “So you’re mum’s new boytoy?”

“Is that what she calls me?” he said, trying to play off the tight feeling in his chest with a small smirk.

“She doesn’t call you anything, actually. She’s been going on these little dates, calling them ‘work calls’ and hoping I won’t notice.”

“How do you know they’re not work calls?”

“I wouldn’t have until she brought you home with her.”

“That was my fault…” he looked down at his coffee. He was convinced he could already feel the caffeine buzzing in his fingertips.

“You look different,” she said.

His eyes shot back to her. “How so?”

“Your hair’s longer. It makes you look older.”

He raised an eyebrow and smiled at the way she recoiled into herself.

“I meant it as a compliment, honest.”

She looked different too. Her face hadn’t changed much from what he could remember, but mostly he noticed that she seemed more subdued. Her eyes were set in dark circles and they weren’t as wide, and when she wasn’t speaking her lips fell slightly. She looked older, but then how long had it been since Dragonstone? More than three years, less than four.

She told him where everything was in the kitchen, which he could have figured out himself but he didn’t want to interrupt her. She asked how long he was going to stay and he said until he heard back from Aegon.

That turned out to be a week later, and by then Alys insisted she liked having him around.

Initially he looked at a few rentals, which Alys discouraged and insisted he should buy his own place. Between work and the daily mass of texts he was getting from his siblings about Targ Corp and their parents, he couldn’t find the time to truly consider it.

It was easy to fall into a routine with Alys. She left for work earlier than him so he took his own car every morning. Everyone at the office guessed they were ‘together’ but they kept things professional. If he so much as put a hand on her shoulder she scared him off with a warning look. She always stayed later than him so he’d go back to the house, sort out dinner and have it waiting for when the girls got home.

The girls. He was going domestic.

She only had lectures a few times a week and when she was at home she stayed in her bedroom, only occasionally bringing a book down to the garden or the lounge while he worked in the kitchen. He wondered if she was avoiding him. Considering the awful impression he made at Dragonstone, he didn’t blame her.

But eventually she started to warm up to him. They found some common interests and small talk turned into in-depth discussions of history and politics and their favourite films and albums. She loved Mazzy Star especially. Sometimes, when he had the house to himself, he’d listen through their albums and imagine her listening to the same songs.

He soon learned just how elusive Alys could be. She always had something going on, a work event, a conference or even trips to Pentos with her old uni friends. When she was at home she was usually in the study on the top floor of the house, on a call, looking over contracts or managing some kind of crisis that only she could solve. If he joined her on work trips it was by her invitation.

So he often found himself alone with her. Movie nights became a weekly ritual, usually late in the week, and every week they seemed to sit a little closer to each other than before.

One night she fell asleep against him. His arm was around the back of the sofa and her head gently fell against his chest.

He wasn’t sure what to do, if he should wake her, but she looked so peaceful with her eyes closed, lips parted and breath fluttering down the collar of his t-shirt. Her body was warm and she was wearing that same citrusy perfume.

He wanted to keep her there. He could lie down, hold her in his arms and fall asleep pressed into her back.

Guilt told him otherwise. So he moved away from her, as carefully as he could, and guided her to lie fully on the sofa with a pillow under her head and a blanket draped over her body.

Alys came in from a dinner sometime after 1am and slipped wordlessly into her side of the bed. Within minutes he could hear her gentle snores.

He closed his eyes but he didn’t sleep. All he could think about was her breath on his chest, the way her shorts had ridden up her thighs, and that fucking perfume.

He was probably just tired, getting excited by some old crush which he was way past by now. He was sure he would forget about it by the morning.

If only it had ended there.

By the time spring came around she had warmed up to him. They spent Sunday mornings drinking coffee together in the garden and went for drives out to Blackwater Bay. They had inside jokes and talked about their families. Some nights she’d come crying to him over uni, arguments with her mother and a stupid boy who broke her heart. She was so pretty when she cried.

When she asked him to help her with a particular exam he couldn’t help himself. He noticed everything about their study sessions together, the way she shuddered when he put a hand on her shoulder, the way her breath hitched when he praised her.

His heart swelled when she came home from that exam with a wide smile, throwing herself into his arms and telling him all the details she could remember. Her eyes were so bright and gazing up at him almost adoringly.

He was so happy for her, and so proud.

She didn’t pull away when he kissed her. She met him with soft touches to his neck and a hummed whimper that threatened to spark something primal in him.

They smiled at each other when it was over, until the haze started to wear off. He cleared his throat, and muttered that he still had work to do. She nodded but they kept staring at each other, his hands on her waist and hers drifting down from his neck to his chest.

She was the first to step away. He watched her disappear through the door and wondered how he had managed to make such a mess of his life.

For the entirety of the next week he couldn’t get that muffled whimper out of his head.

Every time he saw her he wanted to drag her into him and kiss her again, harsher, hungrier, with his hands tracing over every inch of her body.

He told himself he was being stupid and he just needed an outlet. For the most part, he and Alys doing well together, but on the few occasions they actually fucked he found the novelty of being beneath her was starting to wear off.

Frustratingly, everything else seemed to be working well for him. He was good at his job; working for Rivers PR was certainly helping to distract him from his family and the company was thriving. He didn’t have to put up with his parents and the Rivers girls seemed happy enough to have him around. The only problem left was him.

In June Alys was accompanying a client on a trip to Dorne, a few days in Salt Shore, Lemonwood and then a week in Sunspear. Aemond wasn’t sure if he was elated or dreading her absence. Every time he’d been around her lately he held his breath, waiting for her to realise something was wrong.

She remained perfectly normal though. Her exams were finished and she had an internship at Lion Publishing lined up for the month of August. In the meantime she was living life as she pleased, lunch dates and picnics in the park with her friends, but she spent a lot of time at home too, mostly reading or writing in a leatherbound notebook.

The kiss was a mistake. A stupid mistake. He kept looking for a chance to talk to her, but decided it might be best until Alys was away.

Alys’ flight was due on a Friday evening and he dropped her off in the afternoon. They sat in silence for most of the journey but silence wasn’t a rarity for them.

When they reached the airport they both went to take the bags out the boot.

“I’m a big girl, I can manage,” she said dryly, but that was just her sense of humour.

“I don’t doubt it,” he said.

She set her suitcase by her side and slipped her arm through her Prada tote bag. “The two of you can look after yourselves well enough,” she said, fussing with the collar of her blouse. “I don’t need to tell you not to answer the door to strangers or anything?”

He smiled unenthusiastically. “No.”

With her eyes one the pavement, she brought her fingers to the styled waves of her hair, bringing a few tresses over her shoulder.

“She’s fond of you,” she said. “I know I can’t always be there for her when she needs me, but I know you helped her with that exam and I appreciate it.” There was no sign of shortness or irritation like there usually was when she spoke about anything remotely personal. She was being sincere and it just made him feel worse.

“Don’t mention it,” he said.

She shrugged her shoulders and the businesswoman was back. “Right then. I’d give you a kiss goodbye but I have lipstick on.”

How devastatingly practical, as always. She threw an arm around his shoulder and he pecked her cheek before she headed for the terminal, quickly and gracefully, heels clicking against the ground.

He had plans to meet Helaena for dinner at a restaurant in central. With her mother out the way, she had invited a few friends to celebrate the end of exams and he figured she’d appreciate the space.

He didn’t realise how much he missed not living with his sister until he saw her. That was the downside of the new circumstances, he never got to see his siblings as much as he wanted to.

Helaena asked him about Alys and her, how they were dealing with Harwin still in the hospital. He told her the truth, they didn’t really talk about it much, but by that point it was a matter of waiting for the inevitable.

Apparently Rhaenyra was a mess. She would be. Her husband was dying, she had three kids to look after and Harrenhal PR was falling to pieces now that Larys was in charge and Alys had poached half of their best clients.

Helaena was exhausted. She was getting ready to start a PhD in Highgarden and she should have been excited, but she hardly had the wherewithal to think about it with Alicent and Viserys’ constant rowing. At least Daeron would be back in a few more days so she wouldn’t be the only child at the house.

“Are you coming to Dragonstone this year?” she asked.

He took a telling breath through his nose and finished off his glass of wine.

“Aemond, please, it won’t be the same without you.”

He scoffed. “No one wants me there.”

She frowned at him with those sad blue eyes of hers. “Don’t say that.”

“Did you know mum hasn’t called me once since I left? It’s been five months. Do you really think I can just show up and we’ll play happy families then go back to hating each other when we get home?”

Her face twisted like she might start crying.

“Sorry I just–” he held his forehead in his hands and dragged them back over his hair. He didn’t want to think about Dragonstone, it just made him think of her.

He felt her hand gently take his wrist and guide it down to the table so she could see his face.

“What’s up with you?” she asked.

“Nothing. I’m just tired.”

She raised her eyebrows and hummed like she didn’t believe him.

It wasn’t long after 10pm when he got back to the house. He heard voices and giggles in the front lounge. He walked softly through the hallway and slowed when he came to the door.

“... that’s always been a fantasy of mine.”

“Jo, you’re sick.”

“Oh step-daddy!”

Laughter followed, with a few disbelieving sighs. He recognised her laugh, and made out two other distinct voices. He guessed they hadn’t heard him come in.

“Is he hot though?”

He listened for a reply but she stayed quiet.

“Oh come on! I bet you’ve thought about it.”

“No.” She said it so simply he almost believed her.

He moved through to the kitchen intending to get some water. There were two empty pizza boxes and an assortment of empty wine bottles on the kitchen island. He went to clean them up when the door opened.

“Hi,” she said softly. Her face was dewy and a little flushed. “I didn’t hear the door.”

“I only just got in,” he said, “don’t worry I didn’t hear anything incriminating.”

She tilted her head at him with a slightly dazed smile. She looked gorgeous and the pair of jeans she wore fit her perfectly.

She refilled the glasses from a new bottle and nodded to an empty glass on the counter. “Do you want to join us?”

“Only if you want me to.”

“I wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” she said.

He followed her through to the lounge, bringing the glass and the bottle with him.

Before he opened the door she leaned into him and whispered, “don’t worry, Margarey has work tomorrow and Jo’s waiting for her boyfriend so they won’t stay long.”

Margaery and Joanna were effortlessly charming but he distrusted them for being law students. They both grinned when he sat on the sofa by the window and were eager to ask him about his time in Oldtown and his job.

Joanna kept glancing over to her, but she remained unphased until Margarey mentioned Targ Corp. Her face slowly fell in irritation. He found it quite endearing.

“So why did you leave?” Joanna asked, “it was something to do with Viserys’ will, right?”

“It’s none of your business, is it?” she said shortly.

Aemond gave her a quick smile to let her know it was alright and she settled back to contentment.

Just as she said, they were both gone before midnight. She saw them to the door and when she came back to the lounge she fell beside him with her legs against his and her head on his shoulder.

“Did you have a nice evening?” he asked. If he turned his head just a little further his lips would brush against her temple.

“Really lovely,” she sighed.

He considered asking about the kiss, but she was definitely tipsy and just sitting with her was too peaceful. He couldn’t bring himself to disturb the moment and the sound of her breathing.

Her fingers began to trace up over the fabric of his shirt, up and down over his stomach and the lines of his abs underneath.

He put his hand over hers to stop her, but somehow it only seemed to spur his own want. He closed his hand around her, tracing his thumb over her knuckles.

She shifted her head so she was looking at him and her breath echoed over his neck.

She leaned in first. Their lips met with gentle grazes, just feeling each other and breathing the same air.

Gradually they deepened their movements. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and he melted at her softness and her warmth. He cupped her jaw to pull her into him despite the gnawing feeling in his chest, like he was getting too close, like he could never get close enough.

She started to move and he tried to keep hold of her, expecting her to slip from his grasp, until he felt her weight on his lap. She straddled him, wrapping her hands around the sides of his neck and threading her fingers through his hair. She gave him another dazed little smile before she continued to kiss him fiercely, desperately.

It was a bad idea. It was such a bad idea, but for now he would take the guilt if he got to feel her like this, her lips trailing along his jaw and down his neck, her heavy breaths and whimpers as she started to rock her hips against him.

He reached to take hold of her hips, moving with her at first before he set a new, steadier pace, dragging her against the tightening bulge in his jeans. “You alright there, pet?” he hummed.

She nudged her forehead against his. “Please can you just…” her eyes followed her hands as she propped herself against his chest.

“What do you want, baby?” he whispered.

She let out a whine that went straight to his cock.

“Come on,” he hissed, “talk to me.”

She clenched her fists to tug at his shirt. “I want you,” she breathed.

He strained an exhale as he tried to stop his hips from bucking into her. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” he said with a groan, but he was already trying to rationalise it.

She could be the outlet, just once, just to get it out of his system.

“No it’s not, but I still want you,” she said.

Or maybe it didn’t have to be about him. He could just give her what she needed.

“Please,” she whined trying to fight against his hold on her hips, “I want you so bad, it fucking hurts.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he cooed, moving his face down to tease the skin of her throat with his lips and tongue.

He knew they were on the cusp of something dangerous and damning, but it was her, the girl from that summer, the girl with the pretty smile and the curious look in her eyes, Alys’ daughter.

When he looked up to her face her eyes were wide and pleading.

Maybe he felt he owed it to a younger version of himself, or maybe it was the wine he’d had at the restaurant but he couldn’t bring himself to care about the consequences.

He pressed his palm against her stomach, feeling her body tremble and her quick, shallow breaths. He trailed lower to undo the buttons on her jeans. “Take these off for me,” he muttered.

She didn’t hesitate to follow his instruction. She drew the jeans down her legs, leaving her in her top and a black thong. He told her to straddle him again, which she did.

With firm but gentle hands he felt along the bare flesh of her thighs and her ass, positioning her over his thigh. He pulled the thong against her until she was squirming and trying to rut against his jeans.

He chuckled softly to himself and held her waist tightly to keep her still, and she followed the silent instruction so well. She was panting, leaning in closer to him, but waiting for his lead. He was slightly scared of how much he loved it.

He brought his hand to her cheek, stroking and toying with her bottom lip. “Do you want to be good for me?” he whispered.

She hummed her agreement.

“Fuck yourself against my thigh, pretty girl, show me how desperate you are.”

With a small nod she started to move, letting out little moans when her clothed clit rolled against his leg.

He kept her movements slow, even when she tried to fight against him and go faster.

“No,” he said, “be a good girl for me, do as you’re told.”

The pace was agonising for her, eyes screwed shut and jaw hung open as her hands got restless, running over his jaw, his neck and into his hair.

He kept her steady and pressed her down against his jeans with each drag of her hips, playing with the change in pressure and smiling at the way it made her whine and her eyes water.

“Aemond… I need more…”

He still kept the movements nice and slow. “Just let it happen– there you go, good fucking girl.”

She didn’t hold back her moans as her climax hit her, tensing hard and falling into him. He kept her moving through it, until her thighs were shaking and she begged him to stop.

He was sure he’d never been so hard in his life, but he held her there, breathing in the smell of her hair and her perfume.

Then he brought her away from him so he could see her face, beautifully blissed out. There was that light, hopeful feeling in his chest, but it was starting to crumble under the realisation of what they’d done.

“Is that actually a thing, the step-daddy thing?” he asked.

She huffed a breathy laugh. “According to Jo it is. Why, do you want me to call you daddy?”

He wouldn’t admit it then, but he liked the way it sounded coming from her.

General Taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy

Series Taglist: @marthawrites @urmomsgirlfriend1 @aaaaaamond @boundlessfantasy @sahvlran @tinykryptonitewerewolf @arcielee @tssf-imagines @aemondsfavouritebastard @skikikikiikhhjuuh @queenofshinigamis @lost-and-founds @izzydlb @dc-marvel-girl96 @xcinnamonmalfoyx @padfooteyes @castellomargot @pet1t3 @okfashionista @khaothick

#my fics #aemond targaryen #aemond x original female character #aemond smut #aemond fanfiction #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #modern!aemond #modern au #house of the dragon fanfiction #stepdad!aemond #my heart belongs to daddy

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soracities · 24 days

Note

I’m 5’2” and less than a hundred pounds, the love of my life is 6’3” and pretty much double my weight, v muscular, sometimes I do worry about being crushed…. on the other hand he loves to randomly pick me up & carry me in his arms which is lots of fun

ngl if i was that tall i would also do that CONSTANTLY its my only gripe that i cant bc being picked up and carried around is a joy i believe EVERYONE should get to experience from short queens to tall kings and im so glad you have that anon 💗

#ask #Anonymous #also i think people that big & strong overall are VERY aware of their size relative to people who are smaller so i cant imagine the love of #your life would be anything BUT careful w someone so precious to him 🤍#love is a house with many rooms

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dreamingofep · 1 year

Text

Strangers in the Crowd

(Elvis/Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No, just another one of my delusional fantasies.

Prompt: You and your best friend are on are annual girls trip and go to see Elvis at the International. Little did you know this would be a show you’ll never forget. [Fem!Reader ]

TW: Smuttt, cussing, fingering (f. receiving) teasing/tension, virgin reader, unprotected p in v, oral.

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)

Word Count: 8.1k

A/N: Hi lovlies. Hope you enjoy this new fic! I LOVE 70s Elvis in Vegas and couldn’t help but wonder if he would have a little fling with someone in his audience. Im incapable of writing a short fic I guess so sorry that it’s so long hahaha. Feel free to message me or comment what you think! Thanks for all the love. Sorry for any spelling mistakes or goofs.

The Vegas lights blinded you with all their glittery and colorful beauty. You had never been here before and this small little city in the desert excited you. You and your best friend were on your annual girls trip and this year you decided to go all out and do a three-day trip here. You and Cicily were also celebrating your 25th birthday together as it was only 3 days apart from one another. You both had never left Austin and were so excited to make a road trip to Vegas.

You both were fresh out of breakups and were ready to have some fun. Your ex was a selfish asshole and only wanted to use you for your body. You never let him get that far and couldn’t stand how he would treat you regardless. It only lasted a month but you knew a girls trip was in order a forget all about any college boy problems.

On the first day there, you both hit the shops and bought some new outfits and a really special one to go and see Elvis Presley at the International Hotel tonight. You both were so excited to see him live. You had heard all the rave reviews of his latest Vegas engagement and Cicily had a cousin who worked for the hotel who could get you two some tickets to the midnight show. They were booths in the middle of the showroom so you thought it would be a pretty good seat to see everything.

You both wait in line to get into the theater and the excited hum of the room made you so anxious in the best of ways. You’ve never seen him live and tonight was the time.

You both get ushered to your booth and you order drinks for yourselves. Two cosmopolitans were your drinks of choice and the buzz in the air was electric. Everyone was rushing to their seats with hound dogs and pictures of Elvis in their hands. A lot of the girls were giddy with excitement and you couldn’t help but look the same. You glance over at Cicily and it looks like she’s on the brink of screaming.

The house lights go down and applause breaks out as the golden curtain starts to rise. The lights dance on the shimmering fabric and it is mesmerizing. The band starts to play and you get chills running down your arms. The bass is loud and heavy and feels like it's rattling in your chest.

Then you see it. This tall, ethereal-looking man steps from the wings of the stage and captures the audience in the palm of his hand. The most contagious-looking smile forms across his face and he shakes his head and looks down at the floor, then back up. You’re smiling like an idiot and screaming with the rest of the crowd. His tan skin gleamed underneath the white jumpsuit he had on with mesh chains connecting on each side of the low cut V. You look over at Cicily and she has tears in her eyes she’s so happy.

You have to pinch yourself… you’re in the same room as Elvis Presley.

The Elvis Presley.

The King of Rock and Roll.

The man that caused riots in the 50s and now fourteen years later, he’s back for more.

His long legs get him to the microphone quickly as one of his band members helps him put his guitar strap on around his neck. He still has an ear-to-ear grin on his face and pulls the microphone stand to him as he stretches out his right leg as the left is shaking in place.

“We’ll that’s all right mama…that’s all right with you…”

The sound of his voice filling the large showroom is causing everyone to thrill with excitement and clap along to the beat of the song. He is filled with nervous energy but it is only fueling him further.

You hug her tight as both of your eyes are glued to the stage.

She nudges you as he is talking to the audience, “Isn’t he something?! Oh my god, he’s just on fire up there!”

You nod your head as you look back at the stage. He starts stuttering and making fun of himself and folding over and laughing. And good lord his laugh is the most contagious thing you’ve ever heard. You feel a grin form across your face as you listen to him stutter and giggle at himself. He still has that boyish charm but the sexual charisma drips off of him like thick sweet honey.

And what you would give to have a taste…

Cicily bumps your shoulder and breaks you out of your daydream.

“Did you know that he walks through the crowd and kisses the girls? My cousin says he does It every show,” she says giddily. You can’t help but giggle and blush at the idea of his lips touching yours. Lord, it makes you weak just thinking about it.

“My first movie ladies and gentlemen was Love Me Tender, I’d like to sing it for you,” you hear his smooth baritone voice fill the speakers and turn your attention to the stage again. He starts the song off slowly, kissing a few girls that are by the stage. Then he goes down the steps of the stage and says hello to more people.

The crowd starts to gather around him as he tries to make his way through the showroom. He places soft kisses on the women coming up to him or anyone else he sees in his eye-line.

He starts getting closer to your booth and a huge surge of nerves fills your entire body.

Could there be a chance?

Would he see you?

Would he give you a kiss?

Screams fill the air as he gets closer to your booth and you feel your heart drop into your stomach. He was distractingly beautiful the closer he was to you. All you could do was stare at the way he commanded the room and how he took the time to look at everyone with a smile.

Suddenly, your eyes meet and you gasp at those electric blue eyes. They pierce into you and hold you there. You feel like time had slowed down for you two. In this brief moment, it was just you two and not the other thousands of people screaming his name fighting to get his attention. He gently pushes through the few people in front of him and stands right before you.

A small smirk forms on the corners of his mouth and he places his hand on your cheek. Blood rushes to them and you move in closer to him.

“Come here, lil’ mama,” he says and leans in to kiss you.

His lips meet yours and you move your hand to his face too. The softness of his lips feels perfect on yours and he pulls away and has a gorgeous smile on his face. Before turning away, he winks and moves into the crowd almost consuming him. Your whole body is in shock. There are no words that can form in your head other than, “holy shit.”

You place both of your hands over your mouth to cover your complete shock. Cicily tugs at your arm and is screaming over and over at you, “what just happened!? Oh my god was that real!?”

You are at a loss for words. Nothing could make this trip more perfect than what just happened. Elvis makes his way back onto the stage to finish the song. The crowd starts to sit back down and you are buzzing with excitement still. Never in a million years did you think this would happen.

“Am I dreaming!? Holy shit… that was amazing…” you trail off in a daze.

“Was it like you dreamed it?”

“Even better, god what I would give for another…” you stop yourself as Cicily grabs your hand with a sly look on her face.

“You don’t have enough balls to go get another…” she giggles.

You look back up to the stage and he’s taking a second to drink some water. Every angle of this man is perfect and the way that jumpsuit looks astonishing on him just makes your mouth water. The feeling of his plump lips replays over and over and over again in your head and you start to blush just thinking about having another kiss from him.

“You wanna put money on that?”

You get up from the booth and make your way to the front tables. You squeeze through the people’s chairs and get to the ledge of the stage. Elvis turns around and sets down his water on the table next to one of the guitar players as he sees you leaning your arms on the stage and looking up at him. You rest your chin on your arms and give him your most pleading eyes.

“Well now, what do we have here,” he chuckles into the microphone.

You smile a big smile at him and motion him to come closer to you with your finger.

He slowly moves closer, taking his sweet time, almost teasing you.

“You want another kiss so you can sit down, is that the idea?” he teases, his feet right near your arms.

You nod your head yes and can’t help but bite your lip. You feel this rush of boldness and reach out and touch his calf. He gets a grin from this gesture and kneels down on one knee for you.

“Well come here baby,” he coos into the microphone. The crowd goes crazy and you feel your heart racing out of your chest. You get on your tippy toes as you try to reach him. He pulls the microphone away from his mouth and places his hand on your face yet again. He gives you a sly grin and shakes his head.

“You naughty girl,” he whispers as he leans in for a kiss. Your cheeks flush red at the sound of his words but also how passionate the kiss felt. There was so much energy flowing through him and you loved the way his lips felt on you. You squeeze his calf slightly as he is about to break the kiss. You smile up at him and bite your lip. He shakes his head and goes in for another wet kiss and you can’t help a small airy moan escape your lips.

“Thank you,” you mouthed at him and let go of his leg. You shoot him an ear-to-ear smile and he gets off his knees and stands back up.

“Lord have mercy,” he chuckles back into the mic as the audience continues to egg him on. You feel your head spinning and the loudness of the room only gets worse. You take a deep breath and try to go back to your seat. Other girls were trying to get to the stage too but Elvis wasn’t paying any attention to them. He went back for another drink of water and the band start to play the next song.

You finally reach the booth and Cicily’s mouth is agape and her eyes are blown wide.

“Pay up,” you snicker and hold out your hand.

She continues to have that shocked expression on her face and you burst out into laughter.

“You’re insane! I didn’t think you’d actually do it!” You nod your head at her and look back at the stage.

“Well, when’s the next time that’s gonna happen?! The worst he could have said was no. I have nothing to lose we’re leaving in two days, might as well take some memories with us back home,” you say as you realize everything that has happened in these last 20 minutes. Shock and awe are all you can see and so happy that this has happened.

You turn your attention to him on stage and you could swear he’s looking at you, and only you. There are so many songs that he does that sound incredible. He brings a new life to them and there's so much passion in his voice. He’s up there doing what he loves to do and it shines through.

“Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, you’ve been a fantastic audience,” he says humbly as he goes to drink some water. “There’s a song I did in Blue Hawaii, and I’d like to sing it, especially for you,” the first notes of the song ring out on the piano and the heavy sound of the drums follow as he starts Can’t Help Falling in Love.

It’s one of your favorite songs he’s ever done and it always lifts your spirits. His voice rings out beautifully with the rest of his backup singers and you can feel the tears well up in your eyes.

This last hour and a half was surreal and one you’ll never forget. And to end with this song in particular, you know he’s singing it to you, the fans. His love for the fans was something that no other artist had. That’s what made him so special.

A taller man with brunette hair starts to make his way to your table and you look over at Tasha uncomfortably. He greets you both with a smile and you wait for what he’s doing at your table.

“Hi ladies, I’m Jerry. I work with Elvis,” he said trying to talk over the loudspeakers. “We were wondering if you both wanted to come to the after-party tonight for Elvis?”

You shoot Cicily a look and you swear she has stars in her eyes.

“Yes, we’d love to!” You both say at the same time. Jerry laughs at your excitement.

“Alright sounds good, follow me and I’ll escort you both up,”

Your heart raced with excitement and anticipation for what was going to happen next. A party with Elvis!? This has to be some sort of dream you swear.

You all exit the showroom and head through the lobby. Through the hall of elevators, you get in the last one on the right and Jerry holds the door open for your two and makes sure no one is following you. He inserts a key into the panel that gives access to the penthouse floors.

You get up to the top floors and turn the corner to the first doors where you see two big guys blocking the doors. They nod at Jerry and open the door for him. He lets you two in the doors first where there is a lot of people already in the suite with drinks in their hand. The view of the Vegas strip was in the distance, sparkling with all the luster of stars.

You both get yourself glasses of champagne and find an open sofa seat you both share. Your body fills with nerves getting to be so close to him again.

Suddenly a hush falls over the room and this intense amount of energy makes your arm hair stand up.

Above the crowd stands the tall man in his all-white jumpsuit. His hair was wet with sweat and his tan chest glistened.

You stand up, wanting to be seen in the crowd of people yet again. Everyone starts to congratulate him on a wonderful show. He shakes the hands of anyone who reaches out to him and smiles the most gorgeous-looking smile you had ever seen.

Suddenly, his eyes look up at yours as you are staying back from the rest of the group.

He starts walking over and turns to look over at Cicily. She and Jerry are in the midst of a conversation and watch as he leans in and places a kiss on her lips. You cover your face to hide any sounds that might come out of your mouth and quietly giggle.

No one is going to believe the trip you two are having…

By the time you glance back over at Elvis, he’s standing right in front of you, looming over your small frame as you stare deep into those eyes.

“Well, what a great surprise seeing you here. Did you come back for more?’ He teases as he brushes your hair behind your ear. You can’t help but blush at his words and want to play his little game.

“Oh I don’t know about all that, it seems you have enough girls in this suite to keep you busy for a few hours. I don’t think you’ll have time for me,” you say coyly. You normally never act so cocky and sure of yourself, but something about this man made you crazy being so close to him.

“The only one I see that I want to pay any attention to is right in front of me darlin'. What’s your name?”

“Y/n, nothing special.”

“Oh no, I like the sound of that. It suits you. Beautiful and sexy,” he teases.

Your breathing hitches and you have no idea what to say to him. Almost as reading you thought, he leans down and kisses you right on the lips. This time it's different. He’s not putting on an act. There’s no audience necessary that is egging him on to kiss you. He places his hand on the small of your back and slowly pushes you into his strong frame.

You sigh into him loving the feeling of your body touching his. You put your hands on his chest, feeling his soft chest hair on your fingertips.

“Do you need anything darlin’? I need to go take a shower and I’ll come back out to the party.”

“Some more kisses, but I’ll be fine for a little,” you blush and shoot him a sly grin up at him.

“Oh I was right, I do have a naughty girl,” he grins devilishly, “Go enjoy the party. I promise I’ll come find ya.” He winks and starts to walk off to the next room attached to this suite. Your heart flutters at the slightest thing he does. You’ll be lucky to make it back home alive in one piece by the time this night ends.

You look over at Cicily again and she’s still all eyes for Jerry and you smile to yourself.

You try to mingle in with the rest of the guests but your mind keeps wondering when Elvis is coming back out. You wanted to talk to him more, be next to him, and most importantly, you want him to kiss you more.

Minutes go by and you see Elvis through the crowd dressed in a blue button-up, making his electric eyes pop even more, and a pair of black slacks. This man dressed to the nines no matter the occasion and the confidence just dripped off of him. He made his rounds throughout the room making small talk to anyone who came up to him.

Your heart was racing the entire time watching him, just waiting for your turn next. You were sitting on the sofa next to the windows, taking in this breathtaking view when you felt that familiar chill run down your body. You turn to look up at Elvis looking at you. His eyes tracing every inch of your body, looking at you ravenously.

“You like what you see hmm?” You say sheepishly.

He kneels down on one knee in front of you, just as he did on the stage, and leans in to whisper.

“I think I found what was missing to make this a perfect view.”

You feel your cheeks begin to redden. “Oh? You think so?”

“I do honey. I’d love to take you right up against that window and make the whole town watch.”

Your heart stops at the sound of his words. You feel your wetness pool at the sound of his words and you cross your legs, your pussy starting to have this needy feeling.

“Why don’t we go into the other room so we can talk more privately,” he says.

You two sneak into the connecting room and he closes the door behind you two. It’s another large living room type of setup with a bar and a piano by the window. You get lost in the beauty of the interior and the gold accents everywhere. He gently grabs your hand and takes you out of the front door and into the room across the hall. When he opens the door, the scent of him fills your nose and makes your mouth water. You hadn’t been around him very long, but the way you love the way he smells is so comforting but also so intoxicating.

There’s a large king-sized bed that consumed the middle of the room, and another grand-sized piano by the window.

You feel his hands wrap around your waist and he turns you to face him.

“That little stunt you pulled out there was a bold one. What made you think to do that?”

“Hmm, I just liked our first kiss so much, I needed another. Couldn’t sit down until I got it,” you say bluntly.

“I’m so glad you did. You were the one that stood out the most to me tonight honey. I couldn’t get enough.” The tension in the room is thick and your body wants him more than anything and it scares you.

You reach up and grab the collar of his shirt, making him get closer to you as you plant a long wet kiss. You feel a low grumble in his chest as you slip your tongue into his mouth. You gasp at the sensations running through your body. You feel the wetness in your panties pool more and you are unsure what to do about it. He carefully slides his hand down the arch of your back and pushes your torso into his. You gasp at the feeling of his erection starting to form. Part of you wants to ravage him right there, but the other part of you is timid and shy. A bolt of nerves raced through your body as it hits you he might want a bit more than just kissing tonight…

But you love the feeling of him against you. The way his hands grope and squeeze your body makes you a complete mess. His hands drift up, as he slides the straps of your dress off your shoulders. Your breathing quickens and you stare up at him, unsure of what to do next.

His fingertips lightly brush the top of your breast and you gasp at the sensation.

“You look so beautiful, mama. Can I see the rest of ya?” He asks so innocently. The boyish smile he has as he looks over your body. Like it’s the first time he’s ever seen a woman this close.

His gaze is intimidating. You really don’t know what he expects of you but he’s Elvis Presley. He’s surely been with countless women and his expectations are astronomically high when it comes to sex.

Nerves continue to wrack your body almost causing you to shake. Your voice is quiet and unsure, “Elvis, I don’t know. I don’t think you want to do this with me….” The concern lights up his eyes.

“Honey, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. You don’t have to do anything. But what did you mean by that? Why wouldn’t I want to do anything with you? You’re gorgeous baby,” he says with a smile.

“I umm… I know I’m not what you’re used to. I’m not sure about…” you trail off, your cheeks burning red.

His eyebrows squint together in concern.

“Baby, you don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll take real good care of you I promise. I want to give you more,” he places a soft kiss on your lips and you feel your body aches for him to do everything he’s promising you.

But you break the kiss and muster up the courage.

“Elvis I, umm, I’m a virgin. I’ve never been with a man. Ever. I have no idea how to please you and I don’t want this to be something that’s terrible for you. You’re better off finding another girl in that room to have fun with tonight,” your voice soft and weak. You feel so embarrassed about what you had to confess and the insecurities are running off of you like water.

He looks at you stoically, trying to find the right thing to say. He goes to sit on the edge of the bed and reaches out his hand for yours. You cautiously move toward him and he looks deep into your eyes.

“Darlin’ that’s nothing to be ashamed of. You have no reason to feel bad about it. Not with me at least. If you’re not ready to do anything, that’s fine,” he says softly and thinks for a bit. “Can I ask why it’s never happened? I just thought a gorgeous girl like you, you’d have men throwing themselves at ya,” he quips cutely.

You chuckle at his cheeky comment, “No one’s been worth it. I just didn’t feel the same when it came to having sex with someone and wasn’t just going to do it because they wanted it.”

“I understand darlin’. I’m sorry you’ve felt like that with a man,” he says softly.

Your head spins as this whole situation feels unreal. You have this undeniable need to have him which is crazy to you considering you have never had a man.

“But you’re different, I can tell. I want you, so bad Elvis. Every part of me wants you but I don’t know what you expect of me.”

“You don’t need to do anything darlin’. I’ll take care of you and make you feel so good. I can teach you things, if you want…”

“Yes, teach me… teach me how to make you feel good too. What do you like, please tell me,” you plead.

His eyes start to look aflame, he bites his bottom lip and places a tiny kiss on your cheek down to your neck.

“Mmm, okay dear,” he whispers in your ear.

You take a sharp breath in, loving the way his lips ignite you and all the new sensations that come with it.

“Can I teach you how to suck me off? Would you like me in your mouth?” He asks with lust rolling off his words causing your pussy to clench.

You slowly nod your head yes and he goes on to kiss you again on the lips, slipping his tongue in and groaning.

The idea of his cock in you has you filled with anticipation and need. You had only ever grinded on a few guys in the past over their pants but this was different. Something about Elvis’ commanding presence told you that he was going to fuck you senseless and you were going to love it.

He carefully placed one of your hands on his upper thigh where you can feel his forming erection run down his leg.

You gasp at the feeling and how large he is.

“See whatcha doin’ to me, making me so hard. This is gonna be inside you making you feel so good.” He moans as he feels you start to rub the length of him. The friction of his pants against it is driving him crazy. He trails kisses up and down your neck, nipping at times the soft sensitive flesh making you moan.

He leans you back, so he can get better access to your breasts. He kisses and sucks at them, making popping sounds each time he lets go. You feel the rush of wetness go into your panties and the throbbing sensation overtaking your core.

You carefully pull down the fabric of the top of your dress, exposing yourself to him. He groans when he sees what you’re doing and takes his large hands and places them firmly on you. You watch as he squeezes them, applying little pressure at first, then squeezes them harder causing you to moan and your head to fall back. He lifts one of your breasts and puts your nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking the sensitive bud.

You gasp, shocked by the way he uses his mouth on you. The more he sucks and licks them, the worse the throbbing becomes in between your legs. You can’t help but push his head more into your breasts wanting him to ravage them more.

You rub his fully formed erection and try to get his pants off of him but he stops you.

“Oh are you ready baby? You want this?” He quips.

You nod your head, “yes, tell me what you like. I want to make you feel good,” you beg.

“Take off your dress for me, let me see you.” You pull down the rest of your dress and stand before him just in your panties. One by one, you undo the buttons on his shirt as you feel his eyes take in the sight before him.

Your hands shake slightly as you get to unbutton his pants and slowly pull down the zipper. You slide down the waist band of his slacks and to your surprise he’s not wearing any underwear, you watch as his large cock spring free from his pants.

You stare and bite your lip. You had no idea what to expect, but you were not expecting this. His cock was longer, and thicker than you expected and the way his veins running along his shaft made your mouth water by just looking at it. Your hands trail down his chest and graze over his length. He hisses at the contact and squeezes your arm.

You’ve never seen a man naked before, but you know this was as perfect as they come.

“Get on your knees for me baby,” he says gently as he sits back down on the bed, spreading his legs wide, looking like the definition of temptation. You kneel in between his legs, wanting to touch all of him so badly but wait for his instructions.

He picks up your hand and wraps it around his shaft. The length of him is warm and there is a clear fluid coming out of the head. He grabs your other hand and has you cup his rather large, heavy-hanging balls.

“What I’d like you to do for me, is just rub me in your hand, back and forth, then lick the head of my cock. Nice and slow like this,” he moves his hand on top of yours and you watch as his foreskin almost envelops his red, leaking head, and pull it back to see more of his protruding veins in his shaft. He has you gently squeeze his balls in your hand, causing his hips to move and dry hump into you. After a few strokes, he lets go of your hands and watches you. You love the small, airy sounds he makes as you put a little more pressure on it. His hips gently roll as he enjoys your hand working his cock.

“Now open your mouth for me, honey. Nice and wide and let me feel you.” You keep stoking him and do as he says. You open your mouth and he slowly guides the tip of his cock into your mouth. The hot heat touches your tongue and you moan. You wrap your lips around his head and suck.

A deep guttural growl comes out of him and you start to suck. This unbeknownst primal instinct takes over you and the smell of him fills your nose making you moan with him in your mouth.

“Oh yes, just like that mama. Just like that. Use your tongue a bit too. Lick and suck on me.” He groans out. You look up at his face looking so pleasured by this. His mouth is open in awe and watching you intently as you suck and stroke his cock.

You start to use your tongue licking and swirling around his head while sucking him.

You get more excited and decide to put more of him inside your mouth, doing the same motions he told you to. He gasps as you take more of him hungrily. You keep watching him as his eyes pop open and he lets out a loud moan. You test out what gets him going the most. You suck his tip, swirling your tongue around his swollen head, and squeeze his balls more making him buck his hips off the bed.

“Oh mama yes, that’s so good. Let me move in and out of your mouth now,” he moans hungrily and grabs a fist full of hair in his hand. You love the way he’s sounding. The way he’s getting off because of you is the most addicting sound and you want to take in more of his cock.

You place your hands on the tops of his thighs and he pushes his hips slightly, having you take in more of his length. You feel his head hit the back of your throat and you sputter and gag around him. He pulls his cock from your throat, making sure you’re okay, and watch as you claw at his thighs, ready for more.

You nod your head at him and take more of him in your mouth. You never thought giving head would be a thing you’d like, but watching him enjoy it so much was one of the hottest things you’ve ever experienced.

He continues to moan and tighten the grip on your hair. You move with him and he fills your mouth with his hot length. You try to relax your throat to not gag on him as much but he continues to plunge his cock down your throat, letting you breathe, then putting it back down your throat. He pulls out of you, pulling you from your hair and you let out a soft cry.

“Oh, honey you did so good. Making me feel so good. I could fuck that throat all night, but I need to take care of you now,” he teases and helps you get off your knees. He picks you up and places you on the bed with the pillows underneath your head and back.

He looks like he’s about to eat you alive and you wait patiently.

“How’s my honey doing? Are you feeling okay?” He says as he opens your legs wide for him. Your heart beats wildly out of your chest and feel more wetness pool.

“I need you. I’m throbbing and it won’t go away.” You plead and try to close your legs, hoping some sort of friction would help.

But he doesn’t let you and continues to keep them open, both of his hands on your knees. Looking at your soaked panties, he starts to trail his hand down to your panty line.

“I’m gonna touch you, honey. Making sure you’re all ready for me.” He growls when he feels the wetness that has seeped through the lace fabric. You jump at the friction and he tears them off in one quick motion.

His eyes grow wide as he looks at the wetness leaking out of you. He takes two fingers and slowly rubs your clit, causing an electric shock through your body.

“Oh fuck! What are you…,” your question fades as you moan loudly instead. He runs those two fingers up and down your folds, spreading your wetness and driving you mad. You arch your back and push into his fingers causing a mess in between your legs.

He smiles at the state you’re in, needy and horny, just how he wants you to stay.

“Have you ever played with yourself, honey? You ever put your fingers inside yourself?” He asks innocently.

You blush and have to look away, “I’ve played with myself a few times but umm, I’ve never put my fingers inside myself.” You say shyly. The idea never really popped into your head til now. Wanting Elvis’ fingers inside you sounded like a sin that was so delicious. You were so attracted to the idea.

“Hmm, I see baby. Have you ever made yourself cum?”

Your face turns another shade of red and quickly shake your head no, not wanting to see the reaction on his face.

“Well, I’ll teach you, honey. Make you feel so good. You are very needy tonight… you need something to fill you. Let me finger you and get you ready to take my cock,” he coos. You whine and try to move his hand down lower where the throbbing is growing.

He slowly takes his index finger and puts it in your weeping hole. You had never been penetrated by someone and the feeling of his long finger inside you is overwhelming. His long, slender finger reaches deep inside you while staying firmly taught around him. You buck your hips up into him and cry out.

“Mmm fuck you’re so tight for me baby. I don’t know if you’re ready for my cock.” He teases.

“Make me ready… I want you to fuck me with more than just your fingers,” you beg and buck your hips into him more.

“Oh you fucking naughty girl,” he moans as he pumps his finger in and out of you watching as you are writhing on the bed. You can’t control the sounds that are coming out of your mouth and love the way he’s reaching parts of you that had never been explored. He curls and prods them to your never before touched walls and you swear you’re going to pass out. He enters another finger and you feel this coil in your belly tighten exponentially. He starts to move them faster and curls his fingers up into your walls. Your vision goes blurry for a second, being consumed by the pleasure he is giving you with his skilled fingers. Your walls begin to flutter and he smirks at this, pumping them faster.

“Oh, I love the way this pussy feels. Do you think you’re ready for me? Ready to take all this cock inside ya?” You realize he loves to tease as he says this and look down as he has his cock in his hand, slowly jerking it off while looking down hungrily at your leaking cunt.

You squeeze your eyes shut and let out a frustrated cry.

“Please Elvis,” he pulls his fingers out of you and places them in his mouth, moaning when he tastes your sweet honey. He licks them clean and grabs the back of your thighs to adjust your body. He has you wrap your legs around his waist and you cling onto his shoulders. He jerks his cock in his hand and teases your entrance with just the tip. Every last nerve in your body is on edge and you claw at his arms in anticipation.

“Just relax mama. I’ve got you. It might hurt a little since your cherry hasn’t been popped but I promise it’s gonna feel so good after.” He coos and places sultry kisses on your lips. You moan, ready for him to give you anything he wants.

He’s gentle, and slowly pushes the first few inches of his cock inside you. The way he is stretching you causes you to gasp. He’s so much bigger than you expected and your body doesn’t know what to do.

You cry out his name as he sets this slow, but insistent pace. He grabs one of your breasts in his large hand and squeezes and pinches your nipples in between your fingers. You moan more with the mix of pain and pleasure coursing through your body.

He put more inside you and you feel this sharp pain inside you and you wince. Tears well in your eyes as you try to take him. You cry out as he moves in and out of you carefully. He sees the pain you’re in and holds you tighter.

“Doing so good baby,” he caresses you.

He keeps you there locked with him, caressing your face and looking at you as if you were the only thing that mattered. Everything about this felt so natural. The nerves that were filling your body moments ago were slowly dissipating and you were just enjoying the moment with him inside you. He thrusts his hips, putting the last few inches inside you and you let out a loud moan. He keeps still as he enjoys seeing you like the way he’s making you feel.

“Such a good girl for me baby. Doing so good. Your cherry popped. It’s gonna feel so good now,” he says as you look down at his long length moving in and out of you. You see some light spotting of your blood around his shaft but the pleasure starts to build the more he’s moving. You watch as he rubs your clit and pushes the rest of his cock inside you again. You feel his balls hit your ass and he doesn’t move as he lets you adjust to the size of him.

“Oh fuck Elvis, you’re killing me holy fuck.” You cry out, gasping for breath.

“Mmm, yea baby? You like how this big cock fills you up?”

You claw at his back, needing him to move and help this never-ending pulsating in your core.

“God, yes I love it. Please give me more,” he nods his head and smiles down at you.

He begins to move his hips and the pain has disappeared. Nothing but pleasure is running through your veins. He moves with more rhythm as he bucks and swirls his hips into you. He places his thumb over your clit and starts to work at it.

Your eyes roll back and let the feeling of what he’s giving you take over your body.

“So goddamn tight for me baby. Taking this cock so well,” he grunts over you as he starts to fuck you faster.

You can’t stop the noises that are coming out of you, loving every second of how he’s fucking you and making you come apart on his cock. The sounds of your skin slapping against his and the wet noises coming from your pussy were driving you both crazy.

Your walls flutter and your whole body tenses. There’s panic in your eyes and Elvis knows it by the look on your face.

“It’s okay darlin I got you. You’re gonna come for me,” he commands and looks deep in your eyes. “I feel you ready to come apart all over me.”

Your whole body tenses and the heat of the orgasm washes over you over and over again. You scream out his name as your walls squeeze his girth. Your nails leave red marks down his back and he only fucks you harder. He lets out a deep, primal growl as he fucks you through your orgasm. You relish in the way this feels and can’t believe you’ve never even given yourself this feeling!

“Mmm fuck, such a good girl. Your pussy feels so good. Keep coming for me,” he pleads as his thumb works faster on your clit.

Your body feels like it’s never felt before. Feeling so light yet so on edge with the way his cock is filling you up and stretching you out. You watch as he lifts your hips up and continues to pound into you.

Taking this new position makes it feel completely different and love the way he’s hitting this particular part inside of you that makes you feel like you can cum all over again on him.

By the look on his face, he is loving every second of this. The way he bites his lower lip and the way sweat has formed on the sides of his temples. You watch as you see the veins on his neck pop out as he fucks you to the hilt.

His rhythm starts to become more sporadic and his eyebrows furrow as he tries to hold on a bit longer. You love the way he’s taking you and can’t get enough of how he fills you up. Your coil in your belly tightens gets again and you let your second orgasm take over your entire body. He groans loudly as you cum on him, squeezing the base of his cock.

“Ah hell, mama. I love it when you cum on me. I’m so close. Where’d you want me to cum?” He agonizingly says through his teeth.

Your brain races, fuzzy from your high of orgasm and unsure what to say. This has never happened before for you and weren't sure exactly what an orgasm would be like for him.

“I want you back in my mouth please Elvis,” you whine breathlessly.

He pulls out of you quickly and you groan at feeling so empty. Your arousal pools out of you and onto the comforter.

He re-adjusts your body by lifting you up underneath your arms and sits you up. He stands up on his knees and puts his cock in front of your lips. He takes his hand and jerks himself in front of you, placing his free hand on the back of your head.

“Open that mouth for me, baby, I’m gonna fill this mouth up,” your heart beats uncontrollably and you grab the back of his thighs, preparing yourself for whatever he is going to give you.

He leans his head back and his mouth opens as you feel hot, salty spurts of his cum land on your tongue and the back of your throat. He places more of his cock in your mouth and you lick the base of it, causing him to moan your name loudly.

“Oh fuck, oh god mama yes take this cock baby,” he groans in ecstasy. Your mouth fills with his cum and waits for him to come down from his high. You had never had this happen before so you don’t know what to do with his load.

He pulls out of your mouth, breathless from it all, and watches you with your mouth open for him, seeing the milky white substance coating your mouth.

“Such a good girl baby. Time to swallow,” he taps your chin and you close your mouth. You look up at him and swallow in one big gulp. The taste of his salty, thick load coated your throat and you have to swallow a few times to fully clear your throat.

He looks down at you pleased, looking at how you’re breathless too and your mascara running down your face.

“Mmm, such a hungry slut you are,” you groan, leaning down to kiss you. You moan into his mouth as he nips your bottom lip.

“Did you like that baby? Did I make you feel good?” He caresses your face, wiping the black streaks from your face.

“That was… incredible… I had no idea what to expect but it wasn’t that,” you say exasperated.

He has that cocky grin on his face you’ve seen so many times in pictures come to life and you wanted to wipe it right off of him.

“We’ll good darlin', that’s what I wanted for your first time,” he says tenderly and places a few soft kisses on your lips.

He gets off the bed and goes to grab you a towel. He gently rubs the wetness and blood off of you and himself. The way he is so tender yet so dominating throws you for a loop but you just sit back and enjoy the moment.

“Did you want to go back to the party? We can stay here, it’s completely up to you,” he asks as he hands you your dress.

“I wouldn’t mind going back to the party and having some food. I’m kinda hungry,” you say cutely. You start to get up off the bed and it suddenly hits you. Elvis ripped your panties off of you… you’re going to have to walk back into that party without any on.

“Elvis, how am I supposed to go back out there without any panties on! You completely ruined them!” You snicker.

He laughs at your disgruntled state.

“Correction darlin’, you ruined your panties, I just took them off of ya to help that needy pussy of yours,” he teases. “And besides, I like you better without them. You’ll just have to behave and not soak through your dress for the rest of the night,” he sneers as he grabs you by his hips and pushes you into him. A small groan escapes you and smile up at him.

“You wanna put money on that?” you wink at him.

Tagging 💖

@powerofelvis @plasticfantasticl0ver @burninlovebutlerr @ab4eva @cryingabtab @returntoelvis @kendralavon7 @peaceloveelvis @waiting4brucewayne2adoptme @woundmetender @thatbanditqueen @kaitaesupremacy @eliseinmemphis @alyssaraen @18lkpeters @lookingforrainbows @presleysdarling @marriedtopresley @presleyenterprise @missmaywemeetagain @succsessions @yagirlalexx

#elvis presley #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis smut #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis x oc #elvis x y/n #elvis fans #elvis x you #elvis fanfiction #70s elvis

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simpingcowboy · 1 year

Text

Warmth

Pairing: Max Phillips x Plus sized!Fair skinned!F!Reader, no use of Y/N, descriptions of blushing

Word Count: 3.5k+

Warnings: SMUT, unprotected PIV sex, heavy petting over clothes, creampie, pet names, Max's usually assholery (he gets sweeter I promise), usual vampiric buffoonery (mention of blood, fangs, physical transformation, and light hypnosis), lots and lots of cuddling

Summary: A double booked cabin and an out of order radiator leave you and Max Phillips trapped in a cold cabin together. However will you stay warm?

A/N: HAPPY HOLIDAYS!!! This is my present for @miraclesabound :) as part of @pedrostories 's Secret Santa exchange <3 Katie, I hope you enjoy your gift! I had a lot of fun working with your prompt

The woods were dark and quiet…so quiet. An icy fog settles over the damp foliage. A strange bird laughs, cackling at your folly. It was going to snow soon…or so the forecast said. The thick foliage blocks your view of the sky. The path beneath your feet grovels with each step of your feet. The wheels of your baggage behind you teeter over the uneven dirt ground.

It's not until you see a set of lights up head you feel you can breathe again. Slowly, a small cabin comes into view. A humble stone cottage, single level. An oddly shapely home, that gave it an inviting silhouette. Fixed with a bright red door. It was beautiful. Everything the brochure had promised and more. You could only hope the inside was as lovely too. You ran up to the door, digging the key out of your pocket eager to escape the cold. Then-

"Fucking finally!" A man swings the door wide open. He's tall, wearing thick fleece navy blue sweatpants and a white V neck shirt. A red fleece blanket wrapped around his shoulders. "Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to get here?"

For a moment, you panic. This must be the guy you're renting from. You'd thought after he sent you the key that'd be it but maybe- "I'm s-sorry! I didn't mean to be this late. I got lost on the road and then the walk here I just-"

"Whatever, would you just get in here and fix this goddamn radiator please? It's freezing in here!" The man moans out with a shiver.

You pause. Fix the radiator? "Wait- this is 346 Kings Lane? Right?"

He scoffs at the question, offering you a quick shrug. "I don't know, I'm just renting the place." The stranger glances over to his set of keys on a hook, the address printed on the tag. "Yeah yeah you've got the right place now get-"

"Hold on- I'm supposed to be renting this place this weekend."

"You…wait so you're not here to fix the radiator?"

"No. I'm not." You gesture to your luggage in tow.

"Fuck…" He bites his cheek in annoyance. A passing thought tells him he should simply just eat you there and then. That is until he looks at you. Really looks at you. His eyes slowly drag over your body from toe to head. The look of annoyance slowly fading from his face. Being replaced with a look of mischief. You have something much more valuable to him that a quick snack.

You also get a good look at him. Short brown hair, neatly trimmed. Round bright brown eyes to match. A handsomely arched nose. You get a clear look at his pouty lips on his clean shaven face. Despite his tanned skin, the man looks strangely cold. Not flushed and red as you were from the cold. Just pale. Despite his odd affliction, there was no question about the attractiveness of the stranger. Had he not just yelled at you three minutes ago, you'd find him doubly attractive. "Double booked I'm guessing?" You offer up to the stranger.

"Something like that. I-" He snaps his eyes up, gazing deep into yours. A smirk on his lips. "Listen. Why don't you come inside and we sort this all out tommorow, huh?" He says with an alluring charm as he pulls the door open for you. A switch from his initial attitude towards you.

You felt cautious…rightfully so. Trapped out in the woods with a stranger. But what else was there to do? Night grew darker with each passing moment. A few flecks of snow began to fall. Soon a few feet would cover the ground.

You let out a sigh. A puff of condensation emerging from your lips in the cold air. You look up meeting his gaze. "Sure…thank you."

You breach the doorway, pulling your bag in behind you. The stranger shuts the door behind you. A shiver running up your spine. It's definitely cold in here; less so than outside but notably so. At the least the inside of the cabin looks nice. A quaint kitchen to the left, an old brick oven taking center stage. Lots of wood furniture. A dim auburn light fixture set over a dining table. The far back wall leads to what you assume is the bedroom and bathroom. To the right, the living room. Where the stranger had obviously been making himself at home at before you'd arrived. A stack of blankets piled onto the couch. In front of the unlit fireplace lie a graveyard of matches and paper; obviously unsuccessful attempts to start a fire.

You take off your outer layers, scarf, hat, outer jacket. Out of the corner of your eye you see the stranger's eyes fixating on you. Something intense in his gaze that makes you chuckle. This definitely is not your best look. Wrapped in layer after layer. You were certainly not a small woman to begin with, the extra layers do little to highlight your best features. Not to mention the flushed red cheeks you spotted from the stinging winter winds. No…he was likely not looking at you like that.

"Since we're stuck here together. Might as well get to know each other." The stranger approaches you, an outstretched hand. "I'm Max."

"Hi Max." You give him your name, and take his hand in yours shaking it. He's cold…unbelievably cold- inhumanely cold. His hand on yours threatening to freeze you to the touch. You quickly retract your hand back. "So uh the radiator is out?"

"Been out for a couple hours." He retorts in a bothered tone. "I tried to start the fireplace but- let's just say I was never a boy scout!" He says playfully.

You offer back a light chuckle. "That's for sure." You say gesturing to his failed attempts. "I've got some fire starters on me. I should have it up in a bit."

Max perks up at that. "You're the best." He offers up a big smile. "Can I get you anything while you do that? Water?"

You nod, "Water would be nice…actually if you've got any food too I'd appreciate it."

"Uh-" Max hesitates, thinking back to the fridge of blood bags behind you. "Let me see what I can do!" He claps his hands cheerfully going off to the kitchen. "You just get started on that fire!"

You rummage through your bag, eventually finding the fire starters. You make quick work of the fire, getting it going within a few minutes. A sigh of relief when it begins to kindle. You sit in front of it, watching it gradually grow.

"Fire's going!" You call out to Max, still in the kitchen.

"Great!" He calls back, hastily working to shove all his blood bags in a secluded section of the fridge where you can't see them.

Max can't risk you finding out…not right now. Needs you. Needs you alive. With blood pumping through your veins. The cold wouldn't kill him, but it didn't mean it was pleasant to be in sub zero temperatures. It made his bones ache. Max liked being warm. Though warmth was something sacrificed at work, it was a luxury he was willing to pay for on his vacation. That's why he was so excited when he saw you. He couldn't quite make out all of you under all those layers, but he could tell you were bigger, warmer. Damn pretty too. Maybe if he's really lucky, you'll let him in somewhere extra warm. The thought brings a devilish grin to his face.

Thankfully, he was able to scavenge the cabinets for the right ingredients for a simple sandwich. Max excitedly walks over to you, a plate in one hand and water in the other. He plops down beside you, sliding the food and water to you.

"Dinner is served!"

You offer him a small smile in return. "Thank you, Max."

"My pleasure." He says with a grin. "Glad you got that fire started. Thought you were gonna freeze to death." He says with a chuckle.

You laugh back. "Yeah? I think out of the two of us you'd be the one to freeze to death first."

"Maybe." He responds simply with a shrug.

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence, just warming by the fire. You enjoy the sandwich Max made. Simple, but filling. Eventually, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to change into pajamas. You swap out the heavy layers of clothes for more comfortable breathable set. A pair of comfy fleece bottoms and a snuggly form fitting top. Making your way back to the fire, you don't miss how Max's eyes trace over your body. More time passes. Your eyes getting gradually heavier and heavier. A yawn escaping you.

"You're getting tired?" Max asks in a soft voice. He sounds so inviting.

"Yeah…been a long day."

"Come here." He extends his arms out to you.

"What?"

"Sleep up against me."

"I-I can sleep in the bedroom it's -"

"It's cold there, remember?" Max ups his hypnotizing influence on you. "You can sleep on me, right against the fire." He flashes you a bright fanged smile. "Come here. It's okay."

In your sleepy daze, you easily give into his influence. You shuffle into his arms. Your head rests comfortably against his shoulders. His cold hands wrapping around you, resting on your waist. Max smiles in victory, finally getting his hands on your warmth. He eagerly snuggles his face against your hair, taking in every ounce of warmth he can from you. Within minutes you're fast asleep in his arms.

You rest easy in his arms for a couple hours. Max had held you close the whole time, simply enjoying your warmth. All the while admiring how pretty you looked in the light of the fire. A soft crackling of which steadily wakes you.

"Mmm" you whine in a half awake state. You slowly take in your surroundings, remembering where you are.

"Good, you're awake. Been waiting to do this." With ease Max picks you up and onto his lap. Your body lying across his. "Oh that's so much better." He says with a sigh, snuggling against your face. "You're a terrific cuddler." He smiles into your cheek. His nose pressing against you.

You jump at the unexpected transition, also not expecting Max to be able to pick you up so easily. You notice the way he hadn't even broken a sweat moving you. "Good morning to you too."

"Not morning yet Baby. Just barely one AM." Max teases, one hand rubbing over your thigh. Relishing the feeling of you on him.

You shiver when Max's cold palms run over your thighs. Not freezing as they were earlier, but still a few degrees colder than you. "Max? Are you still cold?"

He chuckles, "I've always been a bit cold blooded."

"Can I help?"

A devilish smile creeps across Max's face. "Well- you know skin to skin contact is the best way to get warm."

Your face goes red. Mind flooding with inappropriate thoughts. Certainly Max was attractive but-

"Up to you Sweetcheeks. But I'm-" Max lifts your chin, bringing your eyes on him "just dying to feel you."

"I think I can help." You give him a soft smile

"That's what I thought you'd say." He returns your smile. Crashing his lips hard against yours.

Max's hands are already peeling your shirt off, eagerly groping at your breast. He loves the feel of them. Just like his own personal hand warmers. His icy hands quickly make your nipples harden. Beneath you, his cock twitches in his sweatpants. You grind down on him wanting to feel more. He groans loudly into your mouth.

"Come here Baby." Max tears his shirt over his head. He turns you away from him, your back pressing against his bare chest. "So good for me."

His hands circle around your middle, enjoying the vastness of your body. How much warmth you have to offer. Just how much of you there is to take. Max nuzzles your neck. The way your heart pounds exciting him more. Your blood smells so good. His cool tongue drags up the side of your neck, subduing the urge in him to bite into you. His cock insistent against your behind, pushing against you through the layers of cloth between you.

"Gonna let me feel you here too?" He teases, a hand snaking down to cup your wet pussy.

Even through your fleece pants his touch is electrifying. There's something sinful in it. To let this man you barely know feel you like this. Yet there too is an intense romance to it. Two strangers, meeting by chance. Exploring each other by the fireside. Large hands traverse the expanse of your body, not missing or shying away from a single part of you. Relishing in what is. Eager to get close. In turn you press back against him, firmly ground against his cock. Your arms lifted up behind you to grab onto Max's shoulders wide and beautiful.

"Please?" You moan out your answer. "I want you."

"Lift up for me." Max requests, hands stationed at the waist of your pants.

You do as he asks, lifting your hips enough for him to wiggle your bottoms off. Max uses this opportunity to rut his own pants down, freeing his cock. You settle back down onto his lap. His cock jutting up between your thighs. He's girthy. A good length. A pretty pink mushroom head shamelessly spreading precum along your thigh. Max rests his chin over your shoulder, looking down at your body. A low growl eminates from him.

"Fuck- such a pretty pretty pussy." Max spreads your lips with his thick fingers. Licking his lips he says, "If I knew you were this delicious I'd have done this when you first walked in."

Your hips buck up against his hand, desperate for more. You ask lowly into his ear "Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Needy thing." He smiles, quickly fulfilling your request.

Max shifts his hips, sheathing his length in you in one thrust. He smiles at the whine that leaves your lips as he does. Hips grind hard against yours. Pleasure running through you with each rock of his hips. A satisfied groan comes from Max.

"Now that's warm." He smiles into your neck. Running kisses along your face.

Moans of pleasure slip your filter. All your worries so far away. Secluded out in the woods you could be as loud as you wanted. Under the gaze of this stranger you were free of judgement. Max just felt so good. Filling you perfectly, every thrust rubbing the head of his cock against your g spot. His hands teasing over your sensitive spots. Chilled fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. Wet kisses greeting your face and neck. He nibbles at your neck, sucking soft red marks into your skin. You wince at the sharp canines that graze over your jugular.

Gradually you build up speed. Leveraging your knees on the blanketed floor to ride him. Max guides you, hands planted firmly on your hips as he rocks up into you. The cabin walls echo each sound made between the two of you. A long mix of wet slaps as you slam back down onto Max and cries of pleasure. That tight coil in your stomach threatening to snap with each passing moment.

"Max I-I'm close!" You groan out between bounces.

"Me too. Come here!" Max closes one arm around your waist tightly, pulling you close to his chest. His other hand follows over your belly down to your clit. Talented fingers rub you in time to your movements. "Cum for me." He demands, face turned up into a snarl. Holding onto any semblance of control, fighting back from his body's natural push to switch to his vampiric form.

"Max!" You cry out. Your walls clamp down around him tightly. That coil unravels, sending waves of pleasure ricocheting through every part of your body. "S-so good!" You moan, reaching to kiss him.

Max stops you, turning his face away from yours. "Look at the fire, Sweetcheeks. Just feel. Feel good for me." His hand caresses over your quivering thigh as he continues to fuck up into you chasing his own high. "So pretty…so tight. S-so fucking warm." He groans in your ear.

Within a dozen more thrusts he's filling you up with ropes of cum. An aching hiss slips Max as his face contorts into his natural state. He stills, resting inside you, face tucked in your back. You hear his heavy pants behind you as you struggle to catch your breath too. His hands run languid lines up and down your sides.

He softly murmurs words of praise, "Good girl…best girl. Took it so well."

As he calms himself he's able to shift back to his human face. Just as quickly he pulls you into a kiss nearly devouring you. Sharp fangs he neglected to put away, nip at your bottom lip. He pulls away slowly, taking in the sight of you in the light of the fire. A blush creeping across your face. A sudden feeling of shyness overcoming you.

"Hi…" you say quietly.

Max laughs, "Hi? You rock my fucking world and all you have to say is hi?" He delivers a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're too much Sweetcheeks."

You laugh back at him nervously. "I-I don't know I didn't wanna assume anything-"

"Baby. You're gonna have to drive a stake through my heart before I willingly leave this tight cunt." Literally.

You crack a smile at his dramatics. "Well…are you at least warm now?"

"Very." He replies confidently.

A soft yawn catches in your throat. Your lack of sleep once again catches up with you.

"You sleepy, Baby?"

You give him a nod in response. "Think you wore me out."

Max smiles at that. "It's okay. Just rest. We can talk more tomorrow, Pretty Girl." He brushes his hands through your hair. Slowly putting you to sleep.

Sometime the next morning, Max's phone starts ringing. Not wanting to disturb you he carefully shuffles you off his lap. You stir for just a moment before settling into the pile of blankets and closing your eyes again. He steps outside to take the call. His friend, another vampire he'd met in school. The one he was renting the cabin from.

"Hey Max! How's everything?"

"Uh well- I've worked it out, but the radiator is still out and there's this girl here-"

"Ah yeah!" his friend laughs on the other end of the line. "Do you like your little surprise?"

Max pauses for a moment. "Surprise?" He repeats uncertainly.

"Yeah, the girl! Pretty thing. Picked her out just for you. She's the right blood type and-"

"Wait! What do you mean picked her out? D-did you pay her or?"

"Pay her? No. I lured her there. Got her to 'rent' that cabin and- Max you…you were supposed to eat her…you did eat her, right? I mean" the man scoffs into the phone. "What else does a vampire do with some random lost lady in the woods?"

Max is silent. Quietly biting his inner cheeks. Trying to think through everything. 'Sleep with her' was obviously not the right answer to that question…

"Max? You there bud?"

"Yeah I uhh- listen- fuck did you actually make her pay to come here?" Max says almost in disbelief.

"It's good right? Trick'em into paying me to lead them to their death and then-"

"Give her a refund." Max says sternly.

"...What?"

"Issue her a refund. And get this goddamn radiator fixed would you?" Max snaps at the man on the phone.

"Woah yeah uhh…I mean I guess I can yeah. I'll get on the radiator thing."

"Good. See you later. Oh- and just to be clear. That extra income is gonna be a bitch to hide on your taxes." He quickly hangs up the phone, letting out an annoyed sigh. Before turning back into the cabin.

You slowly wake at the sound of Max's return. Even soft footsteps echo loudly against the stone walls. You stir, carefully rising from your spot on the floor.

"Max?" You ask as you rub your eyes.

"Hey, you're awake." He says, a feeling of guilt pangs at him. Even if he did nothing wrong. He knows, had the radiator been working things likely would have gone much differently.

"Mhmm well-" you let out a low yawn, "mostly. Did you get in contact with the owner?"

"Yeah, I did. He's gonna give you a refund."

"Really? Even if I'm- well I guess I only got to stay for a night."

Max kneels beside you. "You know, you can stay if you want. Besides, who knows when the radiator will get fixed…" He takes your hand into his cold ones. "And you wouldn't want me to freeze to death? Would you?" He teases, leaning into a kiss.

You kiss him back, smiling against his lips. "No! I'd never let you freeze." You look up into his deep brown eyes. He's even prettier in the soft light of day.

"Good girl. Now scooch!" He plops down beside you, bumping your hips with his as he moves under the blanket with you. Eager to spend his weekend basking in your warmth and beauty.

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