#this man's bedside manner makes me go all soft | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asumofwords · 8 months

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The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Smut, P in V intercourse, daddy kink, dirty talk, praise, creampie, angst, fighting.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

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

Notes: Hello my babies, sorry for the like 2 hour delay, I've been crying after watching Atonement for the first time. I am unwell. I don't think I will ever be okay again lmao, I had to go watch Pride and Prejudice to make me feel better. Anyway, Enjoy ;) <3

Chapter 8: Boiling Point

Cregan ended up staying the night. Nothing sexually happened, but instead the man had held you against him the entire evening and whispered words of praise to you, assuring you that you were okay, and that things would be fine.

When you woke the next morning, you had felt the need to apologise to Aemond, Cregan’s chat to you the night before still running laps in your mind. Aemond was not used to kindness, perhaps he didn’t know what to do with it, and if he wasn’t going to initiate the first steps, you might as well try.

You didn’t want to have to spend the rest of your month in an awkward tension with the man you were living with. It was up to Aemond if he wanted to respond to the olive branch you would extend.

You snuck out of bed to leave the Stark man, still sleeping, hair half over his face, chest rising and falling heavily, behind you. You shut the door quietly with a click, eyes flitting up to find Aemond’s door still closed.

Usually he was up by now.

You moved to the kitchen, making yourself a cup of tea, and a black coffee for Aemond. You weren’t sure how he took it, if he liked sugar or not, but decided that at least the attempt was worth something. Perhaps even speaking his own language, the tea he made you in the mornings your own interpretation of his civility. You hoped that the gesture portrayed the same meaning to him as it did to you.

But it was better than nothing.

You trudged to his door, tea and coffee in hand, steam winding its way off the two of them as you kicked softly at the wood in a knocking manner with your toes.

Knock Knock.

Silence was the only thing that you could hear from the other side of the door.

You knocked again, knock knock knock, shifting on your feet as you felt awkward and uncertain of what to do. You craned your head to look down the hall; His keys were still in the bowl.

Aemond was definitely in his room.

You tried to knock again, knock knock knock, watching the door knob expectantly, hoping to see it be turned and opened, but it didn’t. Taking it as a sign that he did not wish to be disturbed, you placed the mug of coffee on the floor in front of his door. You sighed in disappointment, but ultimately retreated into your room with your tail tucked between your legs.

If he wanted to speak with you, he would.

Cregan stirred in your bed, looking comically large in your sheets as he watched you enter, smiling at you sleepily. You put your tea on the bedside table, and crawled in beside him, his large palms pulling you against him almost immediately, tucking your head beneath his chin in habit. He yawned quietly and rubbed smoothing gestures up and down your back.

Your soft knocking must have woken him up. And yet, he did not exit his room.

You laid together in bed, drinking your tea as you strained your ears to hear if Aemond had exited his room, desperate to speak to him. You knew that he was in the wrong, that what he had said was inexcusable, but you had said some nasty things too, and after what Cregan told you the night before, it all made sense to you.

All his nastiness, bitterness, and sudden bouts of hot and cold all made sense, and with the added mystery of Alys, that was becoming less of a mystery to you now, you began to somewhat understand the man that was Aemond Targaryen.

It was hard to not sympathise with him. Hard to not try and understand the way that he was. The way he acted in the ways he did. How he was cold and aloof, not daring to let anyone close to him, and biting at anyone he deemed a threat; getting too close for comfort.

When you finally exited your room, Cregan sleepily following after you, you had given up waiting for anything to happen, for the sight of silver white hair to appear at your open bedroom door, or noises from within alert you to his movements. You walked past Aemond’s closed door, the now cold cup of coffee still sitting in front of it, steam long gone from the top, and a brown film having settled at the surface. You frowned at it, but opted to leave it.

You had tried, and it was proof of your effort.

Aemond could come to you when he was ready.

But after three days had passed, it seemed that Aemond was in fact not ready to talk to you, and had become more illusive than the Lochness Monster. You hadn’t seen his silver hair and mismatched eyes since that night, and a web of anxiety began to tug at your stomach again.

When you got home from work that day, you ran straight to the shower, frustration from Larys’ leering caused your shoulders to have tensed so terribly, that you felt an oncoming knot as you rode the train home. You stood under the shower for what could have been an hour, not caring if the hot water ran out, having it on the highest setting possibly, digging your knuckles into your trapezius to try and work out the stress.

By the time you had felt marginally calmer, your skin had wrinkled and pruned, and you had exited, spending extra time moisturising your body and fixing your hair, dressing into some pyjamas before you steadying yourself to face the music, making a promise to yourself that you would talk to him, and stay up all night if you had to.

Aemond would be better than Larys.

You hoped.

You cooked your dinner slowly, ears pricking to listen for the door and his return home, shifting occasionally to look over your shoulder in the hopes that he would appear silently in the lounge room as he sometimes did.

Anxiety and apprehension ate away at you, the ball of nervousness growing larger and larger the longer you waited. That nagging voice in the back of your head telling you to leave it, to just bask in the awkwardness of it all, but the other part of you longed for a connection with him, and to at least try to get through to him.

By the time you finished cooking, and ate your dinner in silence, keeping the TV on mute so that you could hear him approaching or if he tried to sneak back into the apartment, you had begun to grow rapidly tired, fingers digging into the sore muscle of your shoulder to try keep you awake.

It was nearing midnight when you finally heard the soft scraping of keys in the front door. You sat up straighter, turning your attention to the hallway as you listened to Aemond drop his keys into the bowl quietly and make his way down the hall.

His violet eye met yours and you watched breathlessly as he stilled, looking at you sitting straight and tall on the couch as you waited for him. And as you gazed at him, you felt your mouth go dry.

Aemond was in his black running shorts and running shoes, hair in a low and messy bun, the front of his hair slicked to his forehead from sweat. His silver chain was around his neck as it always was, glinting it the light of the room.

But that was it.

That’s all Aemond wore.

Aemond was shirtless.

His stomach rippled as it tensed, porcelain skin glistening with sweat, a soft pink blush spreading across his chest and up his neck. A heat settled in your gut as you looked at him, his chest rising and falling rapidly from exertion.

The man blinked, abruptly turning his head away from you as he went straight to the kitchen, pulling down a glass of water quietly from the cupboard, filling it in the sink. The sound of the tap was loud in your ears.

You stood shakily, nervous and unsure of how to approach the conversation. Or even approach him. You didn’t know how he was going to react. What he was going to say or do.

Would he reject you entirely? Turn nasty again?

Or would he stare at you impassively and boredly?

You cleared your throat, stupid lump of anxiety stuck in the back of it as you stepped around the small coffee table and into the kitchen. Aemond’s back was still to you, shoulder blades moving as he drank, the bones of his ribs wrapped tightly with lean muscles, chest expanding with a deep inhale.

“Hey, um. Can we talk?” You held your hands in front of your legs, turning your fingers against one another nervously.

Gods, why did he make you so nervous?

Aemond swallowed the water that was in his mouth, turning his head slightly to the side to indicate that he had heard you, though not audibly responding back, nor even moving to look at you, his back still to you as he moved to refill his glass again.

You opened your mouth to try again, to garner a reaction, a show that he was listening other than the slight tilt of his head like a parent who was disapproving of their child. But by the time you worked up the courage again to speak, the glass about half full, Aemond spoke.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” Came his low response, almost drowned out by the sound of the running water.

Oh for fucks sake.

“I think there’s plenty to talk about, actually.” You argued softly.

You took a sighing breath and continued, Here goes nothing, “I think that we both owe each other an apology.”

Aemond turned off the tap with more force than what was needed, “What?”

You sighed, watching as he turned around to face you, brows narrowed as he looked down his nose at you.

Was he surprised? Offended?

Why was he looking at you as though he didn’t understand your intentions?

You swallowed, “About the other night. I think we both said some things that we didn’t mean.”

Aemond’s jaw ticked, but he did not respond.

Why was he being like this?

You brushed your hair away from your face roughly, feeling small and vulnerable in front of him.

Desperate, His words rang in your ear.

“I think,” You licked your lips, not sure how to go forward, “I think that what happened was not okay. And what you said to me was not okay. But what I said to you, was definitely not right either.” Another deep breath, trying to stem the rambling confession.

Why was this so hard?

“And I wanted to apologise for that. I shouldn’t have brought her up, and I definitely shouldn’t have implied that you were at fault in your relationship with her. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, it’s none of my business, and I regret saying what I did.” You nibbled at your lip anxiously, watching as the Targaryen’s mouth twitched.

Silence curled around the two of you, and the longer you waited, the more you realised perhaps he thought you wished to continue. That perhaps he was waiting for you to say moe, or those two words that you felt suddenly begrudged to do.

“I’m sorry, Aemond. I was disrespectful and rude, but I was hurting. That’s not an excuse, but I think it's a bit of an explanation. Or at least, I hope it is.” You parroted Cregan’s words.

Not an excuse, an explanation.

You stared at him for what felt like forever, watching as he breathed shallowly, leant back against the bench, fingers twitching over his glass of water. He took a sip, and then another, and you watched as you thought he was finding the words to say, as though he was thinking of different ways to apologise to you, but by the time the glass became half full it became more and more apparent that Aemond had no intentions to say anything.

No apology.

No rebuttal.

No thanks.

Nothing.

Anger began to simmer inside of you.

“Are you going to say anything?”

Silence.

You shook your head sadly, pushing down the heat that rose in your chest, now was not the time to become angry, “I’m trying, Aemond. I’m really trying to be understanding, but you hurt me. You made me feel so used after what we did.” But the heat pushed its way through you; Shame, embarrassment, anger, “I don’t understand what I have done to warrant your anger. Please just tell me what I’ve done wrong so I can apologise and set things right. I don’t like this animosity between us, I don’t like feeling like I’m nothing in your eyes, that I’m lesser than or a nuisance.” You felt tears begin to build, “I don’t like feeling like I have to walk on eggshells in my own home, or that I have to worry about my roommates brother hating me. I don’t want Helaena to come home and have to deal with this mess.”

Aemond frowned deeply, setting down his glass on the kitchen bench, “I don’t hate you.”

Your brows cinched together in confusion, “Then why are you so cruel? You have been nothing but cold to me since you moved in. I’ve tried so hard to be nice, to-to include you in things I didn’t need to, but you give me nothing in return!”

Damn your anger. But you were wounded, and lashing out.

The silver haired man sucked his tongue loudly, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Want from you?” You were confused, “Aemond, I want you to treat me with some basic human decency, and maybe, if I’m really lucky, have you apologise for calling me desperate after we- what we did.”

Aemond’s eye dragged over your face, sliding down your chest to watch the way you heaved worked up breaths. And yet he still stayed silent, shifting on his feet uncomfortably as he looked down at you.

A wave of hurt crashed over your head, and you scoffed, “Unbelievable. I don’t know why I even bothered.” You spun on your heel, moving to make your way back to your room. To go hide. To not let him see the hurt or the shame that you felt. To curl into your sheets and just disappear.

You don’t know why you thought things could change, that he could be kinder.

You felt like a fool.

Aemond’s arm shot out and grabbed your wrist pulling you back to him. You turned, other hand trying to pry his fingers off of your wrist, the long digits not budging.

“If you would just wait a second, instead of storming off again.” He growled in annoyance.

You recoiled in his grip, “How much longer do you want me to embarrass myself as I wait for you to say two fucking words? It’s not that hard, Aemond.”

His eye narrowed, “This stuff doesn’t come easy to me, if you-“

“-Spoken like a true asshole. ‘Apologising isn’t something I ever do.’” You mocked his tone, “Let go of me, Aemond, I’m done. I’m not playing your little games anymore. You can fuck off for all I care.”

Aemond did not let go, “You think this is a game?”

“What else would it be?”

The Targaryen’s eye flicked back and forth on your face. Yet he said nothing.

Digging your fingers into his hand you tried to tug yourself from his grip angrily, “Let go of me.” You tried to pull your wrist away again, Aemond’s grip getting tighter, “I said-“

“-I’m sorry.” Aemond spoke quietly.

You stared at him angrily, hand dropping from his own that gripped your wrist.

“For?”

Aemond’s lip twitched, “For being a dick.”

“All together now.” You encouraged him, staring up at him in anger.

A brow lifted on his face as he looked down at you, “Now look who’s being the dick. I’m trying to apologise to you.”

“Shit fucking apology.” You snapped.

Aemond ran a hand through the front of his hair, messed and slick tresses sticking up in different ways, and yet he still looked ruggish- NO, “I don’t know what you want from me, Y/n. I’m sorry, okay? You didn’t deserve that. I was a dick, and you didn’t deserve that.”

“You were. You were- sorry- are a fucking asshole who treats everyone around him like they’re beneath his designer shoe.”

“I don-“

“-‘I don’t’. You don’t know much do you?”

Aemond’s jaw ticked, “Look,” He all but growled, “I’m trying-“

“You’re not trying hard enough.”

You don’t know why you kept at it. You don’t know why you were provoking him, pushing him, not taking his shitty little apology and calling it a day, but it was just that. A shitty little apology, and it felt like there was no meaning behind the words nor promise of change. Like a chore he had been tasked to do.

He just made you so angry, all the damn time. His arrogance, his cock sure smirk, the way he even held himself. It was infuriating. Intoxicating. It-

No. Stop it.

The hand around your wrist tightened, and you watched as Aemond’s chest rose and fell sharply, cheek twitching. His face hardened as he looked down at you, and the tiny voice in the back of your brain screamed ‘Predator! Run!’

But you didn’t.

“What else do you want me to do?” He said lowly, pushing himself off of the kitchen bench, his chest bumping into yours, “You want me to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness?”

You don’t know why you said it, you don’t know why your brain even reacted the way it did, but there was something about Aemond that made you want to push him. Made you want to see him react.

And so you goaded him.

“Yes.”

The tall silver haired man pressed a tongue in his cheek, “You want me to react, don’t you? Such a brat.”

You blinked.

Fuck.

Aemond’s lip twitched as he watched you blanch, his head tilting to look down at you with his lone seeing eye. It sent shivers down your spine, and your core clenched instinctually around nothing.

“You just keep being a bratty little bitch so that I be a dick to you, huh? Did you even want an apology? Or did you want me to put you in your place? Finish what we started?”

You opened your mouth to argue, to make a point that you did want that apology, but Aemond pulled you forward with his grip on your wrist, the other hand gripping the back of your neck, crashing his lips against yours.

It was all teeth and desperation, nipping at each other, pulling at each others hair, hands gripping each other roughly. It was a culmination of the tension, the elastic band that had been stretched out, pulled so taut that it finally snapped back.

Aemond tasted like smoke and water, tongue dipping into your mouth to taste you, holding his mouth against yours, groaning into your lips as he held you, the both of you fighting for dominance. You pulled at his bottom lip with your teeth sharply, pressing your body up against him.

Long fingers dipped under your sleep shirt, pulling it up and over your head, the top forgotten on the tiled kitchen floor, a chill spreading across your chest as you leant into him for warmth. Aemond’s hands skated up your sides, coming to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking teasingly over your nipples. You moaned into his mouth, nipples stiffening into peaks.

Aemond’s hands were so large you noted as he held you, and you mewled quietly into his mouth as his hands skated sideways, covering your ribs entirely as he spun you around, lifting you with little effort to sit you on the kitchen bench.

The kiss was broken as you were lifted, his lips trailing down your neck to the valley of your breasts, pressing a teasing kiss to your sternum before moving to lap at a nipple with his tongue. Your hands flew to the back of his head, pressing him against you as you hissed, feeling his teeth graze over the stiffened peak.

“Fuck.” You whined.

Aemond slotted himself between your thighs, your legs instinctually wrapping around him to bring him closer. You could feel his hard length against your inner thigh as he rolled his hips, swapping to the other breast to pay it the same attention as the other, whilst a hand slid down your body to cup your core softly. Your hips rolled into his hand, desperate for more, desperate to get the friction you so desperately needed.

And yet he kept his hand still, just cupping you.

Teasing you.

“Please.” You begged, rolling your hips again into his palm, grasping his wrist to try and move his hand to dip beneath your pyjama shorts.

Aemond chuckled against your chest, moving away from the sensitive nipple with a flick of his tongue which sent your back arching into him, “So needy.”

You growled in annoyance, hands moving to the front of his pants, hoping that it would speed him along. As soon as your hand grazed his length, your eyes widened, looking down.

He was big.

Really big.

“Oh.” You said quietly, blush erupting on your cheeks, looking down at the long and thick outline in his pants, “Fuck.”

Those sweatpants had done him a disservice.

Aemond looked down at you hungrily, pupil blown wide with lust and lips reddened from your kiss. His eye dropped down to where your gaze had fallen, one finger tracing up and down his length, a shiver running over his body.

He grabbed your chin, crashing his lips to yours again as he ground into your palm, his hands coming to shimmy his pants down his hips, kicking them off, his cock slapping against his stomach, heavy with want. He toed his shoes and socks of next in a rush, pants falling from his mouth. Your palm gripped him tightly, moving from base to tip as he sighed into you. He was hot in your pam, long and girthy, with the tip wet with his arousal.

As you gripped him you realised just how large the man was. It was always the skinny white boys that were equipped with cocks like this, you thought. So unsuspecting in their lean stature, but their missing body mass had to go somewhere you supposed.

Aemond was no exception to the rule.

Your hand could barely wrap around it.

You wondered briefly if it would even fit.

Aemond pulled backwards as you whined desperately at the loss of him, but the disappointment was short lived as his hands gripped your hips and ripped your shorts off in one swift movement before slotting himself back between your thighs, yanking you to the edge of the bench. His length lined up with your soaked core, rubbing his tip through your folds to gather the slick at your entrance.

Aemond wasted no time, too impatient and pent up to wait or even prepare you, and so he pushed inside of you with one swift thrust.

You had never felt so full in your life.

You moaned loudly, head thrown back as you felt the stretch of him, his length splitting you apart and filling you entirely. Each inch of him pressed deliciously against your walls as you breathed heavily, eyes dropping back to his face.

Aemond stilled for one moment, a moment of mercy, to give you time to accommodate to his size, but that second of kindness was short lived, and the man gripped your hips bruisingly, pulling out slowly, so that you could feel every ridge and vein, before diving back into your centre with long and harsh rut.

You cried out loudly, hands gripping his shoulders as Aemond began to fuck into you at a brutal pace, not once slowing as his length bullied every inch of your walls. The kitchen was filled with the sound of his hips clapping against yours, the lewd slick wet of your folds and the moans and whines that dripped from your lips like honey.

It was nothing like you had ever felt before.

Where Cregan was large, Aemond was larger, longer in length that reached deeper and further than the other man, each thrust caused blooming pleasure to shoot up into your gut, warmth winding down your limbs.

You gripped the back of Aemond’s head and pulled him down, biting at his lips and kissing him angrily, still all teeth and spite, pouring your frustration into him with every nip or press of your lips against his despite the pleasure he was bringing you.

One hand left your hip and gripped the back of your neck, fingers winding into the hair at the nape of your neck tightly, before squeezing the sides of your neck, little bits of pain sprinkling down your spine as he held you forcefully.

Aemond broke away from the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours as he looked down to watch where you were joined. The entire length of his cock was slick with your arousal, pooling between your cheeks and the kitchen bench below, dripping down to his sack.

You had never been so wet in your life.

Oh Gods.

“Fuck, fuck.” You keened, hands gripping his shoulders so tightly you were sure it would bruise, nails digging into his skin, leaving tiny half moons in his flesh, as you felt the coil within wind embarrassingly quick.

Aemond grunted, “You gonna cum?”

You nodded your head shakily, motion stunted with his grip at the back of your neck.

“Good. Want to feel you cumming on my cock. Fuck.”

Your knuckles ached from how you were holding onto him, and with each sharp and fast thrust, Aemond’s tip bullied your g-spot, sparks of pleasure exploding behind your eyes, your release barrelling towards you so quickly it was just within reach.

“So fucking tight.” Aemond panted, “Such a perfect little pussy. Fuck, such a good girl.”

You sighed dreamily at the praise, walls gripping him tightly.

Aemond hissed, “You like that, huh? You like being my good girl? Being such a good girl for daddy, taking his cock so well.” Aemond sucked in another hiss, “Look at you.”

Your bit your lip and hummed, eyes half hooded in lust as you tilted your hips forward towards him, your peak beginning to take over.

“There you go, good girl. Good girl, cum on my cock, come on. Fuck. So pretty.” He praised you, thrusts becoming more brutal, “You’re so fucking pretty, little pussy stretched out on my cock. Looking so fucking pretty like that.”

You moaned needle, whimpering as his length buried into you unforgivingly, “You like daddy’s cock, baby? Huh? Yeah you do.”

His words crashed over you, core fluttering around him as you dumbly nodded your head at him, small mewls and ‘yes’’ falling from your lips with ease.

“Be a good girl and cum on daddy’s cock.” Fingers began to swirl on your bud, dragging you dangerously close to the edge, “Come on baby, I know you can do it, can feel you getting so tight.”

Your moans grew loudly, pants and sobs falling from your lips as Aemond continued to thrust into your soaked core, finger swirling roughly on you to drag you closer to climax, “Such a pretty dumb little baby, aren’t you? Want you to fucking soak me.”

Pleasure exploded within you, winding up your body powerfully as you shook in his grip, Aemond’s hips stuttering slightly as he fucked you through your release, a long and high pitched moan being ripped from your chest.

“Fuck, good girl. Cum on daddy’s cock. Fuck you feel so good, fuck.” Your walls clenched around him, feeling each drag of his length against your sensitive walls, “There you are, such a good baby, such a pretty little girl aren’t you?”

Aemond rutted into your heat furiously, chasing his own peak, pace becoming sloppier as his stomach tensed, muscles rippling up his chest and down his back, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

Aemond’s thrusts stuttered, “Where- Where-“

You blinked up at him, eyelids heavy, “Inside me. Please daddy.”

Aemond’s hips stuttered, “Fuck, gonna fill this pretty little pussy.” He thrust inside rapidly, prolonging your pleasure as breathless mewls were ripped out of you.

Aemond bent over you, brows furrowing as his lips parted, panting as he reached his peak, a ragged moan falling from his lips as he pushed to his limit inside of you, warmth filling you as his thick ropes of his seed coated your walls.

You breathed heavily beneath him, core clenching around his length in aftershocks as you felt him fill you up. Tingles spread through you as you both came down from your highs, your body feeling like it was floating.

You gazed up at him through your lashes. Aemond’s head was tilted down, plump reddened lips slightly parted with his seeing eye shut. His long white lashes fluttering against his cheek as he breathed.

Your chest clenched as you looked at him.

Fuck.

He is so pretty.

The pink of his tongue came out to wet is lips as he looked back up at you, a small smile winding on his face, “You ok?”

You nodded sluggishly, feeling the hand at the back of your neck loosen its grip, smoothing the muscle in soft circles that made your eyes slip shut. Aemond continued for a moment longer before moving his hand to the side of your face, brushing the hair that had fallen across your cheeks and forehead away from your face soothingly.

You hummed quietly and leant your face in his palm, calloused fingers cupping your cheek as he moved to press a soft kiss against your lips. You squirmed under his touch, heat blooming inside of you again as your walls clamped down on him. Aemond chuckled into your mouth, pulling away to press another kiss on your cheek.

“You did good, baby. So good.” He praised you, and you felt heat flood your cheeks as you looked at him, warmth spreading across your chest and want coursing through you. You smiled up at him shyly, keening, pressing a kiss into his palm.

Large hands skated down your arms as you felt the buzz of your release, Aemond cock still twitching inside of you as your mind felt hazy. Aemond kneaded your ass in his hands as he pulled you closer to him, his length pressing snugly against your cervix.

In one swift movement he lifted you up into his arms, a small squeak breaking from your lips as he turned your around and carried you to your bedroom, cock still nestled inside of you. Each step caused his tip to press into you, pleasure simmering through you. You shifted and wriggled in his hold the entire time.

Aemond hissed as he opened your bedroom door, dragging his hips back to pull out of you. You immediately felt empty and whined at the loss, feeling a trickle of warmth escape your core and into the crux of your thighs. Aemond hushed you as he bent down, lowering you to the bed.

A feeling of anxiety prickled in your chest as he stood to his full height.

He was going to leave again.

And then he was going to be an asshole to you once more.

How could you be so stupid, how could-

“I'll be right back.” Aemond reassured you, bending down to press a kiss atop your head, leaving your room.

You heard the linen closet open and close, and then the soft hum of water in the bathroom running. You waited anxiously, shifting on the bed as you felt a trickle of his cum and the warmth of your own release begin to leak from you.

Aemond returned to your room in no time, face cloth in hand. He made his way over to you slowly, looking down at you on the bed. “Lay back.” He said quietly, air of dominance still around him though softer this time.

You obeyed, and laid down against the plush of the pillows on your bed, feeling exhaustion begin to wind its way up inside of you. Limbs feeling like lead and body buzzing with the warmth fo your peak.

Aemond pressed the warm wet cloth between your thighs, cleaning you of your combined releases that lay sticky and slick to your inner thighs. He was careful to not press too hard, wary of your sensitivity, and once he was done, he chucked the cloth into your laundry basket, tucking you beneath the sheets.

He stood to leave the room, but your hand reached out to grab his wrist. You caught him just barely, fingers gathering the grip to hold him to you. His skin was warm, and he looked down at you slowly, the softness of his face gone, and the cool mask you had grown to know slipping in place.

“Stay.” You whispered into the dark of the room.

Aemond shifted, your thumb rubbing against his inner wrist softly, soothingly, trying to tempt him to hold you.

“I can’t.” Came his quiet response, so very quiet in the already still room, the sounds of the city having faded away.

“Why?”

His head ducked down, pressing a kiss against your hair line, “Shh. Rest.”

“But-“

“-Rest. You need to sleep.”

You swallowed thickly, the pit in your gut sinking further, but the way he was looking at you was uncertain. Like a skittish animal ready to take flight, as though he was reserving something within, and it all showed in his violet eye.

“You’ve been good, so good. Now get some sleep, you have work in the morning.”

You didn’t have it within you to fight him, to battle it or argue, and so with a nod of your head, you slid further beneath the sheets, releasing the grip on his hand. You watched as he turned to walk out of the room, hand from the wrist you had grabbed flexing outwardly before he shut the door quietly behind him.

When you woke that morning you had expected to see him, having woken up earlier than usual in the hopes of catching him before he moved to his instinctual and habitual run. But Aemond had woken far earlier that morning, and you had to tell yourself to not let your heart skip the way it did when you noticed his absence.

As you dressed and readied for work, and moved to the kitchen as you always did, there it was.

Your steaming mug of tea.

Ready to be drunk by you, and made by the man you still did not quite understand perfectly.

It was as if every time he even let a brick of his walls down, he would put them back up, and install reinforcements. As though he struggled to let anyone in, or feared to. You had chalked it up to his upbringing with the strange dynamic that was the Hightower/Targaryen family, or perhaps there was more to what had happened with him and Alys.

The day went slowly as you had expected it to do, and by the time you had gotten home, Aemond was there, loose shirt and baggy pants, bent over the stove as he cooked dinner. His music, as usual, played loudly in the kitchen, what had surprised you however was the familiar tune of Lana Del Rey’s - Shades Of Cool playing through your speaker.

Huh.

You didn’t take him as a Lana fan.

You greeted him from behind cautiously, careful to not startle the man from running away from you again. He had turned slowly, as though he had anticipated your arrival, no doubt by the time you finished work and got home as per usual, creature of weekly habit you were, and had given you a small but kind smile.

You sidled up beside him as he cooked, and told him about your day, and he had told you bare footnotes about his. Aemond had apparently discovered a new bookstore that day, and you had made him promise to take you soon.

It was odd.

The air around you was charged but neither of you acted upon it, or pointed out, the both of you all too eager to let it extend for the time that it was there. Aemond did not push you away, and you did not push him to anger.

You ate dinner together, watching television, the tension ripe with the elephant in the room, but neither one of you broached on the topic of what had happened the night before, or how the dynamic between the two of you had clearly shifted.

When dinner was over, you had helped him to pack the dishwasher and insisted on him sitting on the couch and to wait for you. You dug into the back of the freezer where your favourite ice cream tub sat, and pulled two large spoons from the drawer.

“Here.” You handed him a spoon, sitting beside him on the couch, closer than usual, hips and thighs connected and a smile on your face.

Aemond took the spoon and looked at the tub, watching as you took the lid off and chucked it on the coffee table in front of you, curling your legs up beneath you and offering him the first scoop. He scooped a generous spoon and dipped it into his mouth, humming as his tongue curled to lick the remainder of the icecream off of the spoon. You licked your lips subtly, shifting in your seat.

Gods damn him.

“It's good.” He mused, dipping another spoon in, “Probably one of my favourites.”

“Really?” Your heart raced in your chest, “Mine too. I have to hide it in the back of the fridge when Helaena gets high. She will demolish the whole tub in seconds if you blink.” You giggled at the memory of smoking with your best friend, going to shower, and coming back to her on the couch with an empty tub of ice cream.

“Sounds like Hel.” Aemond chuckled.

You leant against him for the remainder of the night, watching tv, tub of ice cream finished between the two of you, sticky spoons stuck against the coffee tables surface, forgotten. At one point his arm had lifted and tucked over your shoulder, pulling you further into his side.

Your heart raced at first, stomach doing flips, but soon you settled into it, head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, his scent curling around you warmly. It was nice to not be bickering, to see him let one of his many walls down for however long it would last.

But as usual, nothing lasts forever.

Because as you were tucked to his side, the softness of his fingers skating over your skin, you could not help but think of what this meant.

What this was.

What it would be.

With Cregan it was cut dry, there was no lingering feelings there anymore on either side, and it felt normal, comfortable, but your heart didn’t race if he held your hand, or kissed the side of your face, and it certainly didn’t race when he would cuddle up to watch a movie with you and Hel.

With Cregan it was simple. But Aemond? That was something else. Your heart did race when he touched you, and right now, you prayed to the Gods that he couldn’t hear it beating like a drum in your chest.

But it wasn’t just the small touches, it was his proximity too. When he would reach over your head in the kitchen to grab something from the cupboard. When he would sit just that smidge closer to you on the couch. How he had been so near to you in the kitchen as you fought.

Because no matter what he did, whether he was being quiet, or brooding, or snarky, or his rarer and more fleeting moments of kindness, your heart would race. Your cheeks would heat and this warmth in your gut would settle heavily. And it was then that you knew you were fucked.

You didn’t know what to do, his hand on your arm, stroking up and down softly making your mind run a million miles an hour.

Did you ask what this was?

What you were?

Surely he felt what you felt. It was different. It was more. There was more to this than something casual, more to this than some convenient fuck of your best friends brother. Because there was danger to this, a risk that you had both taken. There was things that you could both loose from this. Losses that mounted higher with each moment you sat together in silence.

You had only fucked once, almost twice if you counted the first time in the kitchen. So why did it already feel like something more?

Sitting in your questions, you felt Aemond shift, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Your heart leapt into your throat.

“It’s getting late. I’m going to go to bed.” He told you, removing his arm from you as he stood up. You watched him give you a controlled and small smile, clipped at the corners of his mouth, before he moved to walk away, disappearing down the hall and into his room with a click of his door.

But it was the way that he smiled at you that settled an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. It felt like he was separating himself from you again. And so you went after him, jumping up from your seat to follow him down the hall, opening his door to see him already sitting on the edge of his bed head in his hands.

His face lifted, looking straight at you as you stood in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other. His head cocked to the side, brows slightly furrowing as you looked at him, gnawing at your lip as you fought for the words to say.

“Last night-“ You began, twisting your hands together at your front.

“-Was a mistake, I know.”

You blinked, swallowing dryly.

What?

“A mistake?” You furrowed your brows.

Aemond’s mask slid back into place, cold gaze looking up are you as he spoke, “We shouldn’t have done that. You’re Helaena’s best friend. It was wrong of me.”

It felt as though he had slid a dagger between your ribs, “Why?”

“Because it’s not going to work out the way you think.”

He was pushing you away again.

“And what way do I think it will work out?”

“That this will be more than what it was.”

You blanched, “What?” Irritation began to spoil in your gut.

Why did he always do this? Why did he always get these reactions from you?

“I can’t give you what you want.”

“Do you think I expect flowers and declarations of love after that?” The words felt bitter on your tongue, heart aching in your chest, battling the tears in your eyes, “I was under no illusion that it would be more.”

Aemond’s brows raised in a mocking way, lips pulled down into a frown, “Are you sure?”

Anger soared through you, “Fuck you, you arrogant prick.”

“See,” A long hand lazily flicked up at you, “You’re already hurt. I didn’t want this.”

Didn’t want this.

You sniffed, “It’s because you’re being a complete fucking asshole.”

The silver haired man pushed an irritated tongue into his cheek as he shifted on the bed, turning his entire body towards you and sneered, “And what do you want me to do? You knew who I was when you fucked me. Did you think you could get my cock wet and I would change? Be a better man? Be the man who Cregan can’t be for you?”

Your mouth gaped, shock spreading across your chest, “Don’t bring him into this. He has nothing to do with this.”

Aemond scoffed loudly, rolling his eye up to the ceiling, “You don’t think that your boy toy loves you? Have you seen the way he looks at you? You’re dragging him along for a ride whilst you fuck me on the side.”

“What me and Cregan do is none of your fucking business. And you’re the one to talk, what about Alys? Are you not dragging me along on the side?”

“Don’t.”

The air in the room went icy.

But the heat and anger inside pushed you forward, “So, what? You can bring up Cregan but I can’t bring up her? Tit for tat, Aemond.” You spat.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Anger exploded within, “And neither do you! You have been so incredibly rude to Cregan, who has given you nothing but the benefit of the doubt and kindness that you certainly don’t deserve. You know he even told me to be nicer to you. You?!” You watched as Aemond frowned, “You are the most judgemental man I have ever fucking met. You sulk in your room all day or on runs, take cheap shots at everyone around you when they even try to be nice to you, and make it almost impossible for anyone to like you.”

The sneer fell from Aemond’s lips, “I don’t need anyone to like me.”

You sighed, “That's your problem, Aemond! You’re isolating yourself for no other reason than that you’re afraid.”

“I’m not afraid.”

You took a step towards him, watching as he looked you over warily, “Yes you are. You’re afraid to let anyone get close to you. What happened to you as a kid-“

“-What do you know about what happened to me?” The sneer was back.

Fuck.

“Nothing! That’s the point. You don’t let anyone in, but I’m trying to be your friend.”

“I don’t need friends.”

A pang of sadness spread across your chest, “Everyone needs friends.” You shook your head sadly, “Aemond, I’m not doing this with you again. I can’t keep doing this when all you do is push me away. It’s like fighting with a brick wall and it’s hurting me more than its being productive. I’m trying to be nice to you, I want to be your friend, Aemond. But if you don’t want to accept that people can be nice to you, that I can be nice to you, then that’s something you need to work through alone.”

Aemond’s back straightened on the bed, as though he was about to stand, but shook his head instead, pushing his hands into the mattress as though to keep him there, “You don’t really like me. You just want to fuck me to make Cregan jealous.”

You frowned, “Is that all you think this is?”

Silence.

Your chest clenched sadly.

You sighed, “Goodnight, Aemond. I really hope that you think about this before you go to sleep, because I can’t keep doing this with you.”

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

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jamespotterismydaddy · 7 months

Text

For The Taking

aemond x sister!reader smut

A/N: this is based off a request here for obsessive!aemond so i hope you love it!

TW: smut, DUBCON, incest, knife kink, blood kink, breeding kink, size kink, murder, rough smut

word count: 1,789 words

Aemond chaperones all of your meetings with possible suitors. It’s just what a good big brother does, right? He watches closely to make sure they don’t get too close, don’t say anything too suggestive, or do anything that could ever bother you.

He walks, ten steps behind, as you promenade around the gardens with Lord Tully. He hates him already. In theory, Lord Tully checks all the boxes. He’s handsome, considerate and only eight years your senior but something about him makes Aemond see red. Some boring lord from Riverrun could never be good enough for you, his perfect baby sister and the worst part is, you seem to like him.

“Of course, Ser.” You giggle at the lord’s words. Fuck. Aemond missed what he said.

“I shall have to part ways with you for now, princess. I have felt a sudden need to speak to the King.” You beam up at him. Speaking to the King could very well mean a marriage proposal.

You nod in response and giggle again when Lord Tully kisses your hand before leaving.

“I don’t like him.” Aemond says sternly. Your face falls.

“What? Why not?” You say as you look up to your brother with puppy dog eyes. His opinion means everything to you.

“There is simply something about him I do not trust. You can do much better.”

“I don’t understand. I thought he was-”

“Do you not believe me?” Aemond asks you, putting a hint of sorrow in his eyes.

“No! Of course that’s not it. I’m just disappointed. It seems there has been something off about every suitor. Soon there’ll be none left.” You pout a little as you look down.

“You will find a perfect match.” He tilts your head up so you have to look him in the eye. “I will only have the best for you.”

“I know.” You say softly before pressing a light kiss to his cheek and murmuring something about attending to your needlepoint with Helaena. You make your way from the gardens.

~~~

The next day, the royal family has a breakfast. A family breakfast. You don’t think that you’ve shared a meal with your father in weeks so there must be some sort of news.

“My love.” Your mother starts. “We have something wonderful to tell you…” She looks to the King who seems to be irritated that he has to speak on the manner.

“Lord Tully has asked for your hand and we have granted it.” Your father finishes.

“He has?” You look at Aemond nervously.

“Yes, isn’t it wonderful?” Your mother beams at you, happy with the match.

“But mother, I was sure we discussed my thoughts on him.” Aemond starts and you watch the look on Alicent’s face change. She knows. A mother always knows.

“Ser Brynden is a good man and a knight. You’ve also shot down all of her other suitors, Aemond.” The Queen looks at him sternly. Aemond is fuming but says nothing. “We will start the wedding preparations soon.” She says to you with a soft smile.

The rest of the meal is tense but your mother tries to push through, chattering about wedding dresses and cake. Though, when everyone is finished eating, Aemond leaves quickly, a disturbing look in his eye.

~~~

In the middle of the night, you are awoken by the sound of your bedroom door opening. You call out your guards name and receive no response. You start to get nervous. You grab a candelabra from your bedside table as you get out of bed.

“Who’s there?” You call out.

Aemond comes into view.

You sigh in relief. “Aem, you frightened me.” You put down the candelabra.

“Were you intending to fight off an intruder with that?” He chuckles. And then… he walks into the moonlight. There’s blood on his collar.

“Oh Aemond, are you hurt?” You rush over to him, a concerned look in your eyes as you inspect him. You go on your tippy toes when you hold his face in your hands so you might be able to see better.

“What a caring little girl you are.” He coos at you but the look of worry strewn across your face doesn’t fade. “It’s not my blood.” He says darkly but you still don’t get it.

“Who’s blood is it?” You ask tenderly, just glad he isn’t hurt.

“Tully’s.” He says and this is when you realize.

“Is he… alright?” The concern is gone from your voice. You’re frightened again.

“Most people aren’t alright after being run through with a sword and fed to a dragon.” He says and chuckles again. Your mouth goes dry.

“You… you…” Your eyes well up with tears. You’re utterly shocked.

“Killed him? I did.” He says and then notices the look on your face, how you have started to inch away. He reaches his hand behind your head, running his fingers through it before gripping it tightly at the roots.

“Ah… Aemond, that hurts.” You whimper and he loosens his grip slightly so he’s just holding you in place.

“I’m sorry, darling. You know I never want to hurt you but the way you’re looking at me right now… it hurts me.” He says calmly.

“You truly did it?” You ask and the tears start to fall.

“I did it for you. For us.” He explains.

“Us?” You’re confused again.

“Yes. Can’t you see? None of these men are enough for you. You’re mine.” He says firmly as he pulls you closer and looks you right in the eyes.

“But mother says it’s… unnatural. Aegon and Helaena are an exception to support Aegon’s claim.”

“We are Targaryens. Wedding you is my gods given right.” He says as he wipes the tears from your face. “I’ll make sure of it. Mother will have no choice but to accept when your belly swells with my babe.”

“W-What?” You try to say more but his lips are pressed to yours before you can get the words out. He kisses you roughly and forces his tongue into your mouth. So much for a gentle first kiss. His arms snake around your waist and pull you against him. When he parts his mouth from yours, your lips are swollen and you stand still in shock.

“Take your nightgown off.” He commands, his eye staring firmly at your nipples that poke through the fabric.

“No, Aemond. We aren’t wed. You’ll ruin me.” You beg him.

“Shhh. I’m your big brother, rūs.” (baby) “You need to trust me.” His fingers go to the straps of the nightgown and slip them down your shoulders so that the garment falls to the floor. You let him, ever the obedient sister. His fingers move to your smallclothes, letting them drop off you next. His gaze washes over you. “You must be the prettiest girl in all of Westeros.” He praises and you don’t know if you blush more at the words or your nakedness. “Lay back on the bed, rūs.” You pout a little and don’t obey him. You’re frozen in place. “Now.” The command brings you back to reality and you listen this time and lay back, your legs clenched together. “Open up those legs.” He says.

“I’m frightened.” You whisper out and he chuckles.

“I’ll be gentle, rūs… at first.” He says as he pries your legs open. He looks at you so hungrily as you lie there, waiting for him. You’re so much smaller than him, so delicate. He undresses for you, he likes how your eyes follow his movements. “You like watching me?” He asks before dropping his breeches.

“I-um…” The size of him makes you nervous. “That part goes in?” You ask him.

“Yes.” He says before beginning to play with your pearl, You whimper softly.

“It won’t fit.” You say.

“It will. I’ll make it.” He slips a finger inside of you. “Tell me rūs, have you ever touched yourself here?” You feel the heat rise to your cheeks again.

“N-No, my septa says it’s dirty.” He smiles at your answer.

“Good. This place is only for me to touch.” He positions himself between your legs and pumps his cock a few times. “This’ll hurt.” He sheaths himself inside of you slowly but still too fast for your liking.

“No… out.” You whine and squirm but he holds your hips in place, forcing you to adjust to his size.

“Stop squeezing me like that. I won’t be able to control myself.” He says with a grunt.

“I’m not.” You say truthfully with a whine. You’re really just that tight.

“Is it still hurting?” He asks.

“Only a bit.” You say, tears in your eyes but that’s enough for him.

He begins thrusting in and out of you savagely, hitting so deep inside of you that you feel as if you’re about to burst.

“Gods, your cunt is perfect.” He says as he fucks into so that you’re whimpering beneath him. He’s so big compared to you that he can see the outline of his cock on your tummy. He smirks at the sight and presses down on it to make you squirm. “I’m going to make this belly swell with a baby just like how I’m making it swell with my cock.” He says and leans down more to kiss and bite at your neck. “You’re fucking mine. Do you understand? You’re my wife.” He punctuates his words with his thrusts. The rough behaviour leaves you light-headed.

Aemond reaches over to the bedside table where he placed his dagger and he grabs it. Your eyes widen.

“Aemond?”

“I’ll make you my wife the moment I spill my seed into you, spilling drops of our blood together.” He says as he brandishes the dagger.

You don’t even know what to say, too tired for a response as he grabs your chin and runs the blade of the dagger across your lips until you bleed. You wince. He cuts his own lip right after. His blood drips onto your skin but he doesn’t kiss you yet. He begins to rub your pearl, trying to coax a peak out of you. When he feels you begin to clench around him, he knows it’s time.

“Aem, something is happ-” He cuts you off with a kiss, mixing your blood with his. He fervently makes you his wife in the ways of Old Valyria. You gasp as your peak washes over you, never having felt such a thing before and that gives him the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeply as he spends inside of you. When he parts the kiss, he gazes into your eyes.

“You’re mine now. By my will and the will of the gods.”

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ichorai · 3 months

Text

letters of loki ; david loki (m).

pairing ; david loki x reader (afab, gender-neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; nsfw alphabet + micro-drabbles for each letter.

words ; 4.0k

themes ; smut, fluff, barely-there angst, established relationship

warnings / includes ; mentions of scars, unprotected sex, mentions of bondage, oral sex, light roleplay, 'honey' as a pet name, david being exhausted </3

a/n ; been in a terrible fic-writing slump so i tried out the nsfw alphabet format for the first time! hope you all enjoy :)

main masterlist.

A — AFTERCARE

Definitely the kind to hold you close after the act, his arms firmly wrapped around your waist, his nose buried into your shoulder. David’s mostly silent, but would gladly listen and hum along if you wanted to start up any kind of pillowtalk. He just likes hearing the sound of your voice. Eventually, however, he’d get up to take a shower (he’s a creature of habit, after all), and bring you anything you needed, like a glass of water or a damp towel.

“Your hair’s wet,” you mumbled in complaint when he slipped back under the covers after his brief shower. His cold hands slipped beneath the wrinkled button-up shirt you were wearing (his, he realized a second later), and you made a disgruntled noise.

“Sorry, honey,” he replied with a soft huff of a laugh, but made no move to shift away. Instead, he pressed closer, kissing a warm spot just above your ear.

B — BODY PART

David’s favorite body part of yours would definitely be your hips. Or your eyes. Or your thighs. If you were to ask him, he’d give you a different answer every single time. There’s so much he loves about you, he can hardly pick just one. Though, he really does have a particular fondness for holding onto your hips, even in a non-sexual manner. He also loves any and all of your moles, scars, or birthmarks. Would press kisses against them because he finds them so beautiful in their uniqueness, and it makes him feel close to you. He thinks tattoos are hot as fuck on you too—especially the small ones in the most random places.

Your favorite body part on him would be his hands. He found it strange at first, how your fingers always found his, how you’d spend hours in bed simply staring at his knuckle tattoos, tracing over every inked etch and every bruise, scar, and callous. It didn’t come much of a surprise to him when he found that you liked the sight of his hand pressing down on your lower stomach as he fucked into you. It got you going—and whatever gets you going, gets him going, too.

The movie the two of you had put on was entirely forgotten. He was on the ground, knelt down in front of you, tongue tracing utter sin along your soaked cunt. And his hands—oh, his hands—one was gripping on your right thigh with iron-strength, forcing you apart to make space for his insatiable self pressing against you. The other hand was intertwined with your left palm, squeezing every once in a while, as if in reassurance. How sweet of him to hold your hand while he utterly destroyed you.

C — CUM

He’s a classic man—he likes to cum inside of you the most, but wouldn’t mind seeing it all over your tummy or over the inside of your thighs. If he was to make a mess, he would immediately clean it up with a damp towel after, asking if you were okay.

“Gonna cum inside you—that okay, honey?” he grunted right by your ear, one hand splayed over your stomach, pressing with just the right amount of pressure, and the other gripping your hip tightly.

“Yes—yes, please, David,” you moaned, breath catching at his name as you moved to lay your hands over his so you could squeeze them earnestly. “Need you to fill me up.”

Just the sound of your voice was enough to push him over the edge. He pistoned his hips against yours a few more times until he doubled over with a gruff noise, hot cum filling your throbbing pussy until it leaked out around his still semi-hard cock.

D — DIRTY SECRET

There’s a set of handcuffs in the bedside drawer just for emergencies. But David’s always wanted to ask if you’d be willing to try it out in bed. He’s not even entirely sure if he would enjoy that, since he prefers to keep his work separate from home, but the thought of you trusting him enough to keep you bound to the bed wasn’t exactly unappealing.

David could only imagine how beautiful you’d look with your wrists up above your head, cuffed to the headboard as you looked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours. How the metal would look like against your skin as you tugged and begged for him to let you touch him—

“David?” you asked with a mildly curious tone, jolting him out of his thoughts. His head turned to you, in your soft pajamas, having just brushed your teeth and washed your face. You were about to slip into bed. “You okay? What are you thinkin’ about?”

“Nothing, hon. Let’s go to sleep.”

E — EXPERIENCE

He knows what he’s doing, but he hasn’t been with a lot of people before you. Two or three one-night stands, and maybe one barely-there relationship that didn’t last very long. Before you came along, he hardly had enough time to sleep, much less concern himself with having flings. Once he met you, he was much more determined to reorganize himself so he could make time for you.

The diner was buzzing with activity that night. You were sipping on a strawberry milkshake, telling him about how you’d love to see a jaguar in person one day. He was smiling, thinking about how beautiful you were, even beneath the harsh lighting of the diner. And then—then it was all spoiled, because he caught sight of his ex in another booth. It hadn’t ended well—she left in a fit of anger and tears, frustrated that David hardly ever made time for her anymore.

Almost immediately, you noticed his change of demeanor, and reached over the table to take his hand. His tense muscles relaxed just a bit. Something you always managed to do with very little effort—it was an uncanny talent of yours.

“You wanna get out of here?” you offered. If you noticed his ex, you didn’t say anything. For that, he was grateful. “We can watch a movie at home.”

“That sounds great, actually.”

F — FAVORITE POSITION

Loki’s got a particular fondness for reverse cowgirl. Don’t get him wrong, he loves missionary and doggy too, but there’s just something about reverse cowgirl that itches him in just the right way. He likes reaching over to press down on your stomach from behind while he pounds into you, and he also likes how it’s easy access to your clit. Plus, you really enjoy hearing the gruff noises he makes right by your ear, so you’re not at all complaining.

“David!” you cried out, voice strained with ecstasy.

“I hear you, baby. Moan for me,” he muttered from behind you, sweaty chest pressed flush against your back. David glanced down and gave a guttural noise upon seeing a creamy ring of your combined arousals at the base of his cock. Another erotic sigh fell from you when he reached down to rub circles over your clit, making you keen with shocked arousal.

G — GOOFY

Very rarely would sex with David be light-hearted or humorous. The two of you are usually far too caught up in a pleasure-ridden haze. But if you happened to start laughing or smiling, he’d give you a loving half-grin before making it his mission to get you back into a moaning mess.

“That tickles,” you half-laughed when he skimmed his fingers up your sides, smiling up at him. He only barely made a humming noise before he thrust back into you—and the grin melted right off your face.

H — HAIR

He takes good care of his hygiene. Granted, he’s usually preoccupied with work to spend too much time grooming himself, but he keeps things clean down there. He also knows you’re a big fan of his slicked-back hair, so he does take the time to make himself look presentable in the morning. You’d also told him once while he was shaving that you liked how he looked with a beard—he’d really have to consider growing it out for you.

“I like how it looks,” you told him one morning before he had the chance to shave. “Your stubble. I think you’d look so hot with a beard.”

“You think so?”

“You should try it. That caveman look. It’ll suit you.”

I — INTIMACY

David can be incredibly romantic when he wants to be. Flowers and your favorite takeout are things he’d grab for you on the way back from work. He’s a detective—he studies you, observes all your likes and interests, and he’s a very fast learner to top it off. Kisses during sex are also not uncommon, and he would definitely press his lips along your neck or on your cheek, whether he’s on top or behind you. And, as mentioned before, he does hold your hand a lot. When he’s feeling more affectionate than usual, he’d murmur how good you are for him in your ear.

“You feel so good, honey. Doin’ so good for me,” he groaned, firm arms curled around your waist as he bucked his hips into you. At his praise, you arched your back so you’d press further into him, a breathless keen falling from your lips.

“Yeah?” David asked in smug approval. “You like that? You like being good for me, hm?”

J — JACK OFF

He rarely ever masturbates, because he’s got you around. And because he’s working so much. He feels as if it’s a waste of time if it’s not with you. But on the rare occasion you were out of town for longer than usual, he’d give into the temptation in the shower just once, imagining his wet fist was your warm cunt.

He missed you more than anything. All he could think about was you and your smile, your laugh, your beautiful hips and legs and thighs—

Fuck, even the cold shower he was standing under wasn’t helping his hard-on go away. With a muffled noise of frustration, David switched the water over to scalding hot, and curled a sopping hand over his throbbing cock. He leaned his forehead against the condensated tiles and closed his eyes, thinking about you and your delicious fucking moans.

K — KINK

Mentioned before, but handcuffs! He likes that you trust him enough to be at his mercy, and he also thinks you look incredibly hot tied up. Another would be when you tell him what you want him to do to you—that gets him going so good. David also loves when you tug at his hair right at the root—makes his eyes roll right to the back of his head. He also really doesn’t mind when you scratch your nails down his back. Seeing the red marks afterwards feels like an award more than anything.

It surprised him just how good it felt when your nails lightly scratched at his scalp. He peered up at you from his position (between your gorgeous thighs), tongue dragging torturously over your sensitive clit. It surprised him even more when you took fistfuls of his hair and tugged with just the right amount of pressure. He made a noise of approval right against your cunt, the vibrations making your back arch so that your cunt pressed up closer to his face.

L — LOCATION

In bed is his go-to, since the two of you would usually have sex super late at night or really early in the morning. The couch in your living room is also home to lots of impromptu sex, mostly during the weekends. The kitchen counter and the dining table aren’t exempt, either.

The stir-fry you were cooking up crackled and popped in the pan, just about ready. From behind, David’s arms wove around your waist, his nose running along the curvature of your neck. It was only when you felt his stiff hardness against your back did you halt your ministrations.

“Here?” you asked with a sweet smile, turning your head to the side so you could see his sheepish expression.

“Here’s good,” he replied, before turning the stove off for you and crowding you up against the kitchen counter.

M — MOTIVATION

Your voice gets him worked up the most. Especially when you make it go all low and you whisper right into his ear—he gets hard just from the thought of it. You could be talking about the most asinine topics, and he’s looking at you like you’re already begging him to fuck you. Whenever you wear his clothes, too—preferably with nothing underneath—it just makes you all the more irresistible to him.

It was rare for the both of you to wake up lazy, with no plans for the rest of the day. But today—today was a miraculous weekend where both of your off-days lined up. And so that only meant you got to lounge around wearing David’s shirt, whispering pure filth into his ear so he’d push you up against the closest surface and fuck you with no abandon. It was simply heaven.

N — NO

Anything that could potentially really hurt you. He’s alright with a little bit of spanking here and there, but slapping you across the face is a hard no from him. He already sees quite a bit of abuse and violence at work, the last thing he’d want to do is replicate that with you. David can call you dirty names if you’d like, too, but he’s not very keen on being on the receiving end of it. Reminds him of his military school days. And, if it wasn’t obvious, none of the typical “gross” kinks, like piss and shit. He’s not into that at all.

“Before we do this,” David started, trying his best to quell his racing heart, despite the fact that he’s slept with you three times prior to this. It was all still so new to him. “I just wanted to make sure—you’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable, right? Or if I hurt you in any way, okay? I need to know if you’re not… enjoying it.”

“Okay, David,” you said with a serious nod, wrapping your legs about his waist. “I promise I’ll let you know.”

O — ORAL

Loves giving and receiving equally. On days where he’s come from work utterly exhausted and too tired to fuck you, he’d have you hanging right by the edge of the bed, where he’s kneeling on the ground, licking lazy patterns up and down your aching core. Eating you out also makes for brilliant foreplay—David likes to tease it out, and he especially likes the way you tug at his hair and groan out his name. As for receiving, he loves to pull your hair just as much, low moans of appreciation falling from his lips.

It was heaven between your legs, he thought, brows knitting together as he hiked your thighs up higher on his shoulders so he could properly bury his face into you sopping pussy. The noises you were making were going straight to his cock, which ached within the confines of his trousers. Even when you’d come twice from his tongue, David just kept going, humming in amusement when you began to whine with overstimulation.

P — PACE

It really depends on the day. Sometimes he wants to burn off some steam and frustration—goes all rough and quick until both of you are seeing stars. Other days he takes it slow, drawing it out to savor it as long as he can, drenching the sheets with both sweat and cum.

“David—David, honey,” you cried out into the mattress, fists curling against the sheets. His cock was hitting all the right places inside of you, so fucking deep. “Please, please, go faster.”

He let out a guttural noise when you tightened around him. “No, no, honey… I’m taking my time with you today. Wanna make you feel every inch of me.”

Q — QUICKIE

Much to his chagrin, the weekdays usually leave him no other choice than a quickie. He’d certainly prefer it if he had the option to take his time with you, but David makes the most out of it regardless. You certainly don’t seem to mind—though, you’ve convinced him to come in late to work a handful of times.

“I’m gonna be late for work,” David grunted right into your mouth as he pounded into you. The squelching sound of his cock hammering into your throbbing cunt was enough to leave his cheeks warm and flushed. “It’ll be all your fault, honey.”

You clutched onto his shoulders, your forehead drooping down onto his cheek, far too delirious to come up with a coherent response.

R — RISK

He’d be more than willing to try out new things with you. He’s especially a big fan of when you come to him proposing a new position to try out. However, David isn’t likely to try out anything new on his own, so it’s all up to you. He’s just happy to do whatever you want to do.

“Hey, David?”

Your boyfriend glanced up from the paper he was reading, brows quirked.

“Well, uhm,” you wrung your hands together, with a sheepish expression, “I was wondering if we could… try something out in bed tonight.”

David blinked once, twice, and a third time. He put the paper down. “Of course, hon,” he said, a soft smile playing at the corner of his lips, “We can do whatever you want.”

S — STAMINA

Usually only one or two rounds since he’s already so worn out from his job but you can easily work him up into a third round if you really wanted to. The rounds can last pretty long, though—he’s good at pacing himself and also makes sure that you’re feeling good, too.

“Again?” he panted with a tired grin when you rolled him over so you could clamber onto his lap, grinding your slickened cunt against his spent cock.

“Mhm,” you replied, nodding. Your hair was a complete mess—David took pride in being the reason you looked so sexily disheveled. “You don’t even have to do anything. Just—lay there and let me take care of you.”

“Can’t argue with that.” David’s muttered words tapered off into a low groan when you sank down onto him.

T — TOY

He wouldn’t own any toys of his own but if you owned a vibrator he’d definitely tease you with it during foreplay. Not at all the kind to be insecure about you using toys—in fact, he’s glad you have a way to feel good on your own whenever he’s not around to take care of you. Independence is incredibly sexy to him, after all.

The gentle buzz of the vibrator against your clit made you buck your hips up, to which David only let out an amused hum of laughter. One of his hands pressed down on the expanse of your stomach to keep you pinned down onto the bed.

“Stop squirming around, honey,” he muttered, teeth nipping at the inside of your thigh. “Relax—let me make you feel good.”

U — UNFAIR

David can be a huge tease if he wanted to be—he knows the exact buttons to press to work you up until you’re right there, but he’d pull away just before you could cum. Would have a wide, smug grin on his face, but he’s quick to cave once you start moaning out his name.

“Why’d you stop?” you huffed, breathless, propping yourself halfway-up with your elbows so you could look down at him. The lower half of his face was covered with your arousal.

“Hm?” The faux noise of confusion aggravated you to no return. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shot you a cocky smile, before kissing up your stomach.

V — VOLUME

He’s not very loud, mostly quiet grunts and the occasional murmur against your skin. He’d much rather hear you—he loves it when you cry out for him, and tell him how good he feels against you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as he plowed into you—you could feel the vibrations of his breathless groans and choked grunts. With a particularly hard thrust, your pussy walls shuddered and clenched around him, the lewd cry you let out enough to etch a permanent blush over David’s cheeks.

W — WILD CARD

Roleplay wouldn’t even be something he thinks of doing but if you brought it up, he’d find it so incredibly hot if he pretended he was arresting you before bending you over a table and fucking you senseless.

“You gonna punish me, detective?” you asked with a coy smile, hand trailing down his chest, toying with the buckles of his belt.

David blinked at you—trying his best not to break character. With firm hands, he yanked your fingers away from his belt and twisted your arm around over your back, crowding you against the table. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and may be used against you in a court of law.”

It took all it had in him not to laugh when you let out an aroused moan.

X — X-RAY

Size really doesn’t matter because he knows how to pleasure you regardless, but he’s definitely quite girthy. The first few times he had sex with you, he’d take it slow because he really didn’t want to hurt you and he was stretching you out so good.

“You’re so big,” you whispered as he carefully eased you onto his cock, hands gripping your hips tight. “Was worried you wouldn’t fit when we first had sex.”

David let out something akin to a hiss and a groan, his forehead leaning against yours.

Y — YEARNING

David’s sex drive isn’t all that high. It was mentioned before that you could work him up most of the time if you wanted to but unprompted, David would be just fine with having sex around once a week, especially since the two of you are so busy with work and quite tired when off it.

“We haven’t had sex in a while,” he whispered as he clambered into bed.

You muffled a yawn behind a fist. “Do you want to now?”

David rubbed at the corner of his eye, also fighting back a yawn. “I’m exhausted.”

“Me too.” The two of you laid down beneath the comforter, curling into your favorite positions like magnets snapping together. “In the morning, then?”

“Sounds good to me,” he replied, planting a chaste kiss on your shoulder and watching your eyelids slide shut.

Z — ZZZ

Sleep is hard to come by for David, so he’s usually up for a while after sex. Just holding you, listening to you breathe, his nose pressed against your shoulder. He likes watching you sleep—not in a weird, creepy way, obviously, but he just likes how peaceful and restful you look. He finds that he sleeps much better with you around. Still doesn’t get enough hours, but it’s much more restful compared to his nights without you.

You collapsed into the mattress face-first with a satisfied noise, which was muffled into your pillow. Sweat glistened on both of your bodies, but neither of you had the energy to go wash up before bed. David’s eyes darted down to your legs, suppressing a grin when he saw his spend smeared between your thighs.

“You’re too good, David,” you muttered, having turned your face away from the pillow, shooting him a lazy, blissed-out smile.

Funny, he thought you were too good for him. His arms curled around you. “G’night, hon.”

“Night, David.”

#david loki x reader #detective loki x reader #jake gyllenhaal x reader #david loki fanfiction #detective loki fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal fanfiction #david loki smut #detective loki smut #prisoners 2013 #prisoners fanfiction #jake gyllenhaal smut #david loki fluff

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sunflowersatori · 9 months

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kiss it better

sukuna x nurse!reader

contents: modern au, f!reader, sukuna is just a guy™️, he keeps getting in fights and coming to the clinic you work at so you can patch him up, some swearing, shoulder relocation (not graphic but it happens)

a/n: i do not know enough about walk-in clinics or joint relocations to be writing this but i hope y'all enjoy (also i have a follow up blurb ready if people want to read that)

When you checked the patient walk-in list you tried not to grit your teeth upon seeing the name that was next in line.

You stepped out from behind the desk and into the reception area.

“Ryomen Sukuna?”

It was easy to spot the tattooed man, who smirked slightly when he stood.

“Please follow me.”

He followed as you led him back into the clinic and into a treatment room.

You closed the door and turned around with a frown, “Alright you asshole, what did you do this time?”

He fake gasped, “You need to work on your bedside manner, Miss Nurse. Aren’t you happy to see me sweetheart?”

“No I am not! Don’t you know I have patients to tend to?”

“Yeah, and I’m one of them,” He had a lazy grin as he leaned against the bed. You could see that he had a cut on his forehead with a bruise blooming underneath it. He was cradling his arm as if trying to hold it in place, and his lip was split. To top it off, there was blood on his knuckles too.

He’d obviously been in a fight, just like all the other late nights he’d come into the clinic.

You sighed heavily, “Other than what I can see, what’s wrong?”

“I dislocated my shoulder,” he nodded his head at the arm he was cradling, “but don’t worry, the other guy looks worse.”

You shook your head, “Sit, and I hope that fight was worth it because this is going to hurt.”

He sat and you moved over to his injured side. Even sitting on the table he was taller than you and his broad shoulders made you feel smaller than you were. You took his arm as gently as you could, ignoring his comment about you treating him so well, and manoeuvred it into position. With one push, you popped it up and back into the socket.

“Fuck!” Sukuna barked out a curse at the pain, and you gave him a pointed look.

He inhaled through his teeth as you wrapped up his arm in a sling.

After gently securing the sling with a knot at his wrist, you looked up to find him watching you, still grimacing a bit but clearly trying to play it off, “Damn sweetheart, what else can you do with those hands?”

You chose to roll your eyes and not comment. You did feel bad for him for having to go through the pain of relocating a joint, so you let it slide. Instead, you gathered some more minor supplies to tend to the rest of his injuries.

The blood on his knuckles wasn’t his, so it was the easiest to fix with a gentle rub of a disinfecting wipe. The cuts were also relatively simple to deal with, and didn’t even require stitches. You cleaned everything and grabbed a small ice pack for the bruise that was now fully settled on his forehead.

When you were done you took a small step back to survey him, “Does it hurt anywhere else?”

“Yeah right here,” he pointed to his face, “maybe you should kiss it better.”

“Why would I do that?” You scoffed and turned to dispose of the trash from your used supplies.

“A kiss always makes it feel better.”

He was grinning at you when you looked back at him, though it was a much less smug expression than he usually had. You wondered if the late hour or the pain was making him a little softer.

“That’s not a service we provide at this clinic,” you said, voice soft and trying to hold back a blush as you opened the door to the treatment room, “You’re all set to go Sukuna.”

“You mean you don’t want me to stay?”

“Sukuna.”

“Fine, fine, you’re a busy lady, with people to help. I get it,” he stood and walked toward the door, but paused in the doorway.

You felt the fingers of his good hand tilt your chin up so you were looking at him, and he leaned down to get close to your face. You felt your breathing stop.

“Thanks for taking such good care of me sweetheart,” Sukuna murmured, low and soft and right next to your lips. Then he was heading back toward the reception area.

You watched him until he turned the corner and was out of sight, and then you stepped back in the treatment room. You closed the door, even if you only had to quickly sanitize the place he had been sitting before the next patient came in, but you needed a moment to compose yourself.

It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. Sure you usually had to get close to him when you treated him, but this had felt different. He’d been a bit sweeter than usual tonight, some of his normal swagger put aside.

You couldn’t deny that you found him attractive, but normally it was easier to brush aside your thoughts and focus on your work. Now, you weren’t so sure.

What you did know was that you were, against your better judgement, looking forward to seeing him the next time he came into the clinic.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you

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slut4msby · 4 months

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i miss you. iwaizumi hajime x reader

+ tags & warnings; pure fluff (for a change) :3

+ a/n; i need myself a hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer so bad rn its not even funny i want him so badly and i could treat him so well, he can take out any stress and/or anger on me pls i love hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer pls let me be like ur pretty little house wife hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer

“I miss you, Hajime. I miss you so much it’s not even funny. The whole house feels so empty without you here. How has it only been three nights…” You ramble through the phone to your fiance. He had left to go on a work trip to a very important match. You and Iwaizumi both knew there was no way he was getting out of it.

“Mhm? Is that right darling?” He responded, “I wish you were here with me…” Iwaizumi sounded exhausted from the strenuous exercise and work he was doing. You wanted to take care of him like you would always do after his long weeks. Sitting down together, you giving him a back massage, him rambling on about his day. It was one of your favourite intimate moments to spend with your partner. “Laying here with me, in my arms. Kissing me…”

“Hajime, you get so clingy when you are lonely.” You chuckle. Despite being a tall and well-built masculine man. He was always a massive cutie, and you adored his soft side. It always felt so personal in contrast to the version of Iwaizumi everyone else saw. He cared so much about not only you but everyone.

“Mhm, can’t help it.”

“Whatever, you big loser. I’m gonna head to bed now, I’ll talk to you in the morning, yeah?”

“Of course, darling. Sleep well, I love you.”

“I love you too, Haji.”

You hate to admit it but that night was the hardest night yet. Something about how clingy Iwaizumi was tonight sent butterflies to your stomach. Your big beefy boyfriend's weakness was you. His pretty little fiance. Your bed felt empty, lacking the usual warmth from Hajime’s proximity, leaving a noticeable void behind you.

It had now been two nights since that phone call. Your eyes open the next morning, waking up to the familiar tone of the empty house. Despite the day ahead, thoughts of Iwaizumi linger in your mind. You missed him more than ever right now, all you wanted was to feel the embrace of your partner.

As the evening approaches, you find yourself yearning for the comforting sound of his voice. Dialling his number, you eagerly wait for him to pick up. The exhaustion from his work trip is evident in his tone, but the warmth in his voice brings a sense of relief.

"Hajime, how was your day?" You inquire.

"Long and tiring," he sighs, "but I can't wait to come home."

"I can't wait to see you, Haji. The house feels incomplete without you, I feel incomplete without you" you confess, a genuine sentiment underlying your words.

"I feel the same way, darling. I miss you more than words can express," he admits, his voice softening.

“I need you, Hajime.”

“I know, Y/N. I’m not any better than you.” Hechuckles in a deep, hearty manner.

God his laugh could bring you back from the dead with how it makes your body feel.

The call ended once again for the fifth night in a row, only two more nights to go. This was the longest amount of time you and Iwaizumi had spent apart from each other since getting together. What you didn;t know was the mental toll it had on Hajime. He had initially anticipated being the strong one in this situation, but in reality, he would willingly abandon any commitment just to be with you at that moment.

As part of the cycle you wake up again. In an empty bed, once again. Craving the touch of Iwaizumi, craving his presence. You missed waking up to him, even when he was in a deep slumber. His face soft, hair a mess. He looked ethereal, more ethereal than the vacant sheets and pillows that now occupy his usual place.

You turn and look at your bedside table, on it is a photo frame, a photo of you and Hajime from your high school graduation. The day he had expressed his feelings to you. With a wistful sigh, you trace your fingers along the edge of the frame, reminiscing about the moment captured. As you place the photo down and get up, move out to the kitchen. You stand in front of your coffee machine and stand there as the espresso pours out. Next to the coffee machine sat Iwaizumi’s mug. The mug he would use every morning, as you two would sit cuddled up on the couch before the day started, just sitting and basking in the feeling of being with each other. It was a large blue mug, nothing special but it belonged to Iwaizumi Hajime.

You take your usual seat on the couch, turning on the TV to whatever shitty news station was last left on. You try paying attention to the weather or whatever, she was talking about. Before it moved onto the sports section, more specifically volleyball. You look around at the familiar faces of Hajime’s team, but no sight of Hajime. You were hoping maybe you could catch a glimpse of your boyfriend on the screen, but nothing. You let out a sigh, before taking another sip from the mug in front of you.

You are truly in a world of your own when you get interrupted by the door opening. You had sworn you had locked the door, you freeze still.

“Goodbye cruel world.” You think to yourself.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice says softly, your head darting around to see someone standing in the doorway, removing his shoes. Not just anyone, your someone.

“HAJIME?!” You shout with excitement.

Your heart skips a beat as you leap off the couch, abandoning all composure. There, standing in the doorway, is Iwaizumi Hajime – your massive, cutie of a boyfriend who was supposed to be away on a work trip. Disbelief and joy flood your senses as you rush towards him, practically throwing yourself into his waiting arms.

"Hajime, you're back!" you exclaim, your voice a mixture of surprise and delight.

He chuckles, his strong arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. "Couldn't stay away any longer, could I?"

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you pull back slightly to look at him. "But the match? The work trip?"

“I wrapped things up early for you.”

“They let you?” You questioned.

“Told them I was sick.”

“You can’t just lie like that, Hajime.” You say playful hitting his arm.

"Turns out, I couldn't bear to be apart from you either.” He says kissing your head, “and technically not a lie, I was sick of not seeing you, darling.”

A surge of emotions overwhelms you, and you can't help but pepper his face with excited kisses. Iwaizumi responds with laughter, his deep and hearty laugh filling the room. The void that haunted the past nights dissipates, replaced by the warmth of his presence.

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Missed you too much. Couldn't resist coming back to my pretty little fiancée."

As you both settle on the couch, Iwaizumi takes the mug from the coffee table, the familiar blue one he always used. "Missed this mug," he remarks with a smirk.

With a playful eye roll, you reply, "Yeah, well, I missed you using it."

As the TV continues to drone on in the background, you find yourself caught up in the joy of the unexpected reunion. The cycle that seemed endless has been broken, and the empty bed, the vacant mug, and the lingering void are now filled with the presence of Iwaizumi.

©slut4msby.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #lea's stories :3 #slut4msby #hajime iwaizumi #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi fluff #hajime iwaizumi (27) atheletic trainer #hq #hq fluff

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stardustoftarth · 1 year

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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐓 || 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍

⇢ 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 - 18+/smut || Minors DNI || fem!reader

⇢ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 - 4.1k (I got a bit carried away with this one)

⇢ 𝐀/𝐍 - Haven't been able to get this smug lil man out of my head since the finale. I thought I was going to be a Harwin girl all the way, yet here I am writing for Aemond first. Absolutely used Alys Rivers as inspiration while writing this - I adore her.

Huge shout out to my incredible beta reader @larys-strong, thank you for putting up with my antics and my asoiaf/hotd obsession. That being said I haven't written in a while (especially smut), so please be kind with my takes. Any feedback is very much appreciated! εïз

𝐀 = 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱)

ღ┆ Aemond doesn’t have the most dutiful bedside manner when you first start sleeping together. He’s not used to having someone else to care for - typically only concerned about his own pleasure. But as he begins to realize just how much he cares for you that will all change.

ღ┆ Placing soft kisses over any bruises he’s inflicted - silently apologizing for any lingering pain he’s caused. Rare moments of tenderness from a man with a reserved, serious demeanor.

ღ┆ Finding solace in your embrace - he won’t care to admit it out loud but his favorite moments are those spent held in your arms. Head resting comfortably on your chest while you run your fingers through his long hair - soothing away his worries.

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𝐁 = 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫’𝐬)

ღ┆ Aemond’s quite aware of his good looks, even with his scarred face. Body lean and muscled after years of sword training - a fine tuned instrument for battle. He’s quite fond of his hands, loving how deft and nimble they are while wielding his dagger. Or when buried deep between your legs working at your center.

ღ┆ Your body is like a sacred temple to him - one he savors exploring over and over. Discovering every single piece you have to offer and committing each part to memory. He’s particularly fond of your breasts. How full they look pressed in your tight dresses, spilling out with each breath taken. How they feel when he has you in his hands, soft and supple. The sounds you make when he takes one in his mouth, flicking the raised nub with his tongue.

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𝐂 = 𝐂𝐮𝐦 (𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐮𝐦, 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲)

ღ┆ Loves marking you with his cum. How it looks pooling on your stomach, dripping down your thighs, shooting onto your face - his possessive nature is to thank for that. Loves seeing you eager and wanting for him, it triggers something primal deep within him.

ღ┆ At first he will fight against every instinct he has to keep from finishing in you. The burdens of his royal blood are a constant reminder of his responsibilities and expectations. A bastard child is not something he’d particularly wish to bring into the world. It will take some reassurance but he’ll eventually see that you’re committed to him and willing to take that risk - moon tea is only one call away after all.

ღ┆ Without question he’s going to work at you until you’re fully dripping. He gets such satisfaction from knowing he’s the one causing your pleasure. Teasing you if you get worked up too quickly, secretly loving how turned on you get from him.

ღ┆ “Someone was eager for me tonight, hmm?”

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𝐃 = 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 (𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲, 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬)

ღ┆ He might secretly deny it but he enjoys being dominated by you. Relinquishing any sort of control that was once his while you have your way with him. Vocalizing what you’re planning on doing to him - how you’re going to treat him and have your way with him. He’s never quite as spent as he is on the nights you take the lead.

ღ┆ Fantasizes about taking you in the dragon pit. It’s a place of power to him and he loves the thought of pleasuring you up against one of the tall stone pillars - torches casting light over your bodies as they flicker. The danger involved only adding to the sense of urgency felt by the both of you.

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𝐄 = 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐫𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠?)

ღ┆ Experienced enough to know what he’s doing, but he’s had a relatively few number of previous partners - and even fewer true romantic relationships. He’s usually more content with getting himself off and not having to worry about needless chatting or feelings that tend to surface with relationships. He desires someone more independent - not wanting to be bothered with fickle women who are only interested in him for his royal blood.

ღ┆ That being said he would be incredibly turned on if you took control in the bedroom. The idea of being with someone who has more experience than him excites him. Someone who’s not afraid to take charge and knows exactly what it is she wants from him. He’d be happy to let you take the reins every once in a while.

ღ┆ "You always fuck me so good. You ought to be proud to be my girl."

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𝐅 = 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ღ┆ Cowgirl - Nothing is sexier to him than getting to watch you ride him and chase your own pleasure on his cock. Your thighs would fill his hands as he held onto you, occasionally running up your front to grab your breasts while you rode him. He’d shift his grip to your hips when he got close, not being able to help himself from thrusting up into you while pulling you down to meet him.

ღ┆ Doggy-style - When he’s feeling more dominant he’ll prefer this. Getting a front row view of your ass while he pounds into you from behind - his hand snaking around your front to play with your clit as he works. In a rush he’d take you over a dresser or table, your skirts hastily hiked up around your waist - allowing him immediate access.

ღ┆ Blow Job - Plain and simple - Aemond loves getting his dick sucked by you. The expert way your hand works at him before bringing yourself to your knees in front of him. Giving small, teasing licks to the tip while you look up at him from beneath your lashes. Tease him like that long enough and he may just lose restraint and take matters into his own hands. Hand knotting in your hair as he fucks your eager mouth.

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𝐆 = 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ Quite serious for the most part - Aemond is an intense lover. Making love to you is something he takes very seriously. He’s a very passionate man and when he gets time alone with you he wants to express that to you. He can be a bit teasing at times if the situation permits it, but he’s always 100% focused on the task at hand.

ღ┆ If you’re feeling a bit playful he might indulge you, especially if alcohol was had beforehand. But afterwards you can usually get him to loosen up and let his guard down. He’ll recount the humorous things that happened earlier in the day - complaining about the lords and ladies of the court.

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𝐇 = 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲? 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ He’s Targaryen royalty, he’s going to be well groomed and cleanly. He has a fine trail of hair on his otherwise smooth abdomen leading down to his crotch. Nothing too wild, he keeps himself neatly groomed.

ღ┆ In the midst of your passions you often find yourself reaching up to undo the tie in his hair - fingers running through his long strands holding him to you, your hand knotted securely at the back of his head. His long blond hair tickling you as it drapes over your neck and chest.

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𝐈 = 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭)

ღ┆ Getting Aemond to vocalize his feelings for you can be difficult at first - but that’s not to say that he isn’t interested. As you learn more about each other you’ll find that what first started out as physical attraction has shifted into something more. What was once an outlet for lustful passion now a deep connection that both of you have come to seek comfort in.

ღ┆ His love towards you is shown in the light kisses he places over your face and neck. When he’s especially worked up words will evade him and his love will be expressed in soft grunts and pants in your ear. Praising your body with his hands as they roam and seek to map every square inch of you.

ღ┆ One of the more intimate things you’ve had transpire is the removal of his eyepatch when you’re together - a vulnerability he allows with you after some time together. There’s a gentle tenderness shared between the both of you the first time you reach up and unlace the cover. His brief hesitation before submitting to your touch a reminder of the pain he still holds - though the wound has long since healed.

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𝐉 = 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 (𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧)

ღ┆ After first meeting you he found his thoughts drifting ever more often to those of you - unable to keep his thoughts away from those of you and your body. Cursing his imagination for sabotaging his usual composure.

ღ┆ Eventually those thoughts started creeping in while he took care of his needs. The feel of your sweet lips on his, the swell of your breasts filling his hands as he holds you, the sounds you’d make as he grazed your wet center.

ღ┆Loves thinking about your hand easing between your legs working on yourself while thoughts of him flood your mind. How slick and wet your hand would feel as you writhe beneath your own touch. On occasion he’ll ask you to touch yourself while he watches - his intense gaze finding yours for a moment of shared passion.

ღ┆ "You drive me so crazy when you're like this, so needy."

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𝐊 = 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤 (𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬)

ღ┆ Praise kink - An obvious one - after a lifetime of being put down even the smallest amount of praise will have this man eating out of the palm of your hand. Tell him how good he feels inside you - how big he is and how well he fucks you. Encouraging words like this will leave him weak, and he’ll finish relatively quickly if you’re not careful.

ღ┆ Edging - Be prepared for what he has in store. Knowing you desire him and want him is the biggest turn on for Aemond. The sweet sound of your voice begging for him while he repeatedly denies you release. He’s going to be sure to work you until you’re completely spent - only allowing you to finish once he’s had his fill of your pleading.

ღ┆ Size Kink - Not so much a kink he has, but rather one he looks for in a partner. Something about hearing you express how full you make him feel, how large he is, drives him mad. Vocalizing how he makes you feel also plays into that aforementioned praise kink.

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𝐋 = 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨)

ღ┆ Nothing beats the intimacy of his chambers. Bending you over a table, a lazy fuck on the couch, the possibilities are endless.

ღ┆ He’s known to take you wherever you happen to be when the moment arises. In a secluded corridor that someone (hopefully) won’t walk down. Hastily lifting your skirts and taking you right there in the hall. Or in the training grounds when everyone else has gone inside for the evening and you search him out. Dirt soiling your dress as he lays you down, your attempts at moving to a more private area thwarted.

ღ┆ Once your relationship is more serious he’ll take you for rides on Vhagar. Landing the two of you in some secluded oasis, perfect for a day spent in your embrace.

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𝐌 = 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐨𝐧, 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠)

ღ┆ Praise! Be vocal about what he’s making you feel. Tell him how good he is at fucking you - he is never going to get tired of it. There is little he isn’t willing to do if you’re begging him for it. Perhaps it’s something as simple as him being full of himself or more likely, it plays on his need to be wanted by someone - to be accepted for who he is.

ღ┆ Just seeing your figure throughout the day, knowing you’ll be crawling into his bed at night. Your loud moans echoing off the walls as he takes you - hands grasping at his shoulders pulling him to you. And if you decide to get on top and take things into your own hands? He’ll be praying he doesn’t finish too quick with all you have in store for him.

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𝐍 = 𝐍𝐨 (𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐝𝐨, 𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐬)

ღ┆ Degradation - Doesn’t do well with being degraded or harshly teased. A lifetime of jokes at his expense has taken its toll on him and he tends to shut down if it’s severe enough. However, he’d be open to degrading you if that’s something you’re into or comfortable with.

ღ┆ Threesome/Orgies - Aemond wouldn’t be comfortable sharing you with others - at least not when he isn’t the one pleasuring you. The thought of someone else having the privilege to give you pleasure wouldn’t sit well with him. He would need you to be his completely.

ღ┆ Overall he would be willing to try anything at least once if you expressed an interest in it. Anything that has the possibility of bringing you more pleasure is something he’s open to trying.

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𝐎 = 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥 (𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐥𝐥, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ Aemond’s a bit greedy and any occasion you offer your mouth to him he will graciously accept. Enjoying the power he feels when you are on your knees before him - worshiping him in a moment of silent devotion.

ღ┆ Slick with precum before you’ve even put your mouth to him, stroking him with skilled hands that know how to work him just the way he likes. His hands knotting in your hair when he’s close - holding you in place as he finishes with stuttered thrusts into your mouth. At times he’ll pull out to finish himself on your face, eyes watching his seed roll down over you.

ღ┆ Though he typically prefers to receive that’s not to say he wouldn’t return the favor for you as well. He’s not one to forget debts owed so be prepared for him to deliver in full. Mouth planting light kisses down your chest and stomach as he works his way down your body. His face finding your center - tongue working at your swollen nub with a steady, constant pressure that leaves you pressing into him, begging him for more.

ღ┆ "Hmmm, you taste so good on my tongue. And all this just for me?"

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𝐏 = 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐞 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡? 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ If he had a stressful day be prepared for fast and rough - using your body to relieve the tension that’s built up. He’d make his way to your room in search of respite - finding safe harbor in your body for the evening. Nights like these almost always end with you both going multiple rounds, unable to help yourselves or keep your hands from one another.

ღ┆ When less urgency is demanded your sessions can be long and drawn out - each of you taking your time in exploring the other. Slow and sensual kisses. Hands gliding over each other languidly in long, drawn out grazes that have you aching for more. Aemond’s slow, deep thrusts draw out your pleasure and leave you clinging to him, holding him as close as your bodies will allow.

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𝐐 = 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞 (𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ Often. The two of you are insatiable. Anytime you’re able to find a few fleeting moments alone your hands are instinctively reaching out for each other. Fingers lazily hooking together as you hurry through the halls in search of a hidden alcove. Sultry glances passing between the both of you, anticipating what’s to come. Hastily unhooking buttons, carelessly throwing pieces of clothing down in your wake.

ღ┆ Aemond has no regard for privacy. The thought of someone catching you two in the throes of passion is both a turn on and an encouragement. He wants others to know you’re his and what better way than by fucking you into the wall in hopes someone catches a glimpse. Your hand clamped over your mouth, stifling the moans that threaten to spill from your lips.

ღ┆ “Hush now, don’t want to give away our nice little spot do we?”

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𝐑 = 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤 (𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐬? 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ Aemond the Kinslayer, rider of Vhagar, a risk taker? Risk taking is all this man knows. If there’s something you’d like to try he’s willing to give it a go. Experimentation and risk taking go hand in hand for him. If you have any kinks that you want to try out he’s all for it - anything that has a possibility of bringing you more pleasure is worthwhile for him.

ღ┆ Aemond’s not one for modesty - he enjoys showing off his possessions and by association includes you. He’s particularly fond of having his way with you in compromising positions, secretly hoping that someone finds you in the thralls of passion. Atop a balcony overlooking King’s Landing, behind a long forgotten tapestry - all are fair game with him.

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𝐒 = 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐠𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫? 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭?)

ღ┆ Man has stamina for days. After years of training with a sword his endurance would be unparalleled. Blood of the dragon flows through his veins - there is a fire in him that’s ignited when he’s with you. One that burns only hotter with each moment you spend entwined.

ღ┆ After a particularly testing day he’d take you swiftly and be relentless in his strokes. Your legs shaking from exertion, bodies tangled together in the aftermath of your passions. Never pausing for too long before crawling back to indulge himself in you once again.

ღ┆ He finishes embarrassingly quick when your mouth is on him. After so long together you know how to work him in just the right way.

ღ┆ "It's going to be a short night if you keep that up. Gods."

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𝐓 = 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬 (𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐲𝐬? 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦? 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬?)

ღ┆ Depending on what toys exist in the world of Westeros, Aemond would be game to using them. Once your relationship blossoms into something more than just physical attraction the idea of using toys would become a bit more intriguing to him.

ღ┆ Using restraints to tie your hands back as he as he teases you - denying you the release you so desperately crave. Hands involuntarily grasping at the air in search of some sort of footing as he works you. He loves having control of you in this position - blissed out and begging for any kind of salvation from his teasing.

ღ┆ A silky blindfold tied around your eyes, leaving you entirely at his mercy. The deprivation of your sight enhances your other senses and causes even the lightest of touches to feel as if flames are left on your skin in their wake. At times he’ll take it even further, using hot wax to make those feelings of flames ever closer to reality.

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𝐔 = 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞)

ღ┆ In public he’d whisper little jokes knowing that only you could hear him. Always finding the perfect insult to hurl at some unknowing recipient. Hoping to find something that would work in catching you off guard and crack your resolve in front of others.

ღ┆ But oh come ON, you just know he would be absolutely brutal with his teasing behind closed doors. We all know this man loves to instigate and in the bedroom he'd be no different. Quite possibly worse.

ღ┆ Relentless with his little quips, saying just about anything to see you flustered and blushing. Pushing you to your limit over and over to see you beg him for sweet release, not even minding how needy you sound. Working himself up while edging you over and over until you can't think straight you're so pent up.

ღ┆ "Tell me what it is you want. I want to hear you beg for it. I want you to beg for me."

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𝐕 = 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.)

ღ┆ He’s usually pretty quiet and controlled, able to maintain his composure through most of your time together. As he gets closer and his resolve weakens he would start to let a few moans slip. Groaning into your ear as he finishes - your name a silent prayer released from his lips.

ღ┆ When you’re on top he’ll be at his most vocal - expressing his adoration for you while you’re in full view of him. If you work him especially well you can elicit more of those delicious sounds from his lips. His usual composed composition gone as you use his body to chase your own high.

ღ┆ Prefers to hear you and the gasps and sighs of pleasure that fall from your lips. Enjoys having you beg for him - drawing out those sweet words of desire from your lips. They give him the reassurance he seeks that you’re his and his alone. He’s a simple man, he needs to be needed and he wants others to know he’s the source of your pleasure.

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𝐖 = 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝 (𝐚 𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫)

ღ┆ You first catch Aemond’s eye while he is praticing on the training grounds. Silently watching from the sidelines as he hones his skills with the sword. His usual focus shattered as his thoughts were drawn back to your mysterious figure.

ღ┆ Not one known for excessive gift giving, Aemond will surprise you one evening with a blue sapphire necklace that mirrors his own. He’ll expect you to wear it with pride - a symbol of his devotion to you. What he won’t expect however, is to find you waiting for him one night dressed only in that very symbol of devotion.

ღ┆ When Aemond grows restless to flee his mundane duties of castle life he’ll ask you to join him in search of a short moment of respite. Together on Vhagar’s back you’ll fly over Westeros - getting a rare view of the country that only few have ever glimpsed with their own eyes.

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𝐗 = 𝐗-𝐫𝐚𝐲 (𝐥𝐞𝐭’𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬)

ღ┆ It’s big. He has the presence of a man who is packing heat. Someone as bold and cocky as he is needs to have the proof to back it up. Perhaps more importantly is the fact that he knows how to use what he has.

ღ┆ Wants to hear you say how big he is, how full he makes you feel when he’s inside you, how good he fucks you. Again, he wants all the possible praise you can give him and more.

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𝐘 = 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐞?)

ღ┆ Aemond knows you have responsibilities as does he, but he can’t help his mind from wandering throughout the more dull parts of his day. Wishing he were back in his chambers alone with you to do as he pleased. Thoughts of how he’d fuck you filling his head. If duty keeps you away from each other he’s ready the moment he gets you alone. He’s never going to say no if you’re willing.

ღ┆ If you’re ever traveling or away from him for extended periods of time he expects you to pleasure yourself while thinking of him - a thought that he uses as fuel for himself in return. The thought of you quietly pleasuring yourself with his name on your lips has him straining in his pants.

ღ┆ “Promise me you’ll remember who brought you this pleasure. Whose hands held you while you shook and how good it felt to be fucked by me.”

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𝐙 = 𝐙𝐳𝐳 (𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐬)

ღ┆ Depends on the events of the day honestly. After a long day seeing to his duties he’s more prone to falling asleep shortly after - his body truly spent from physical exertion with you. He’d do everything in his power to fight against sleep that threatened to take him. To have one moment more gazing into your eyes, feel your sweet, soft comforting caresses graze his cheek while your fingers run through his long hair.

ღ┆ On the rare occasion you find yourselves with more time to relax, you’d enjoy each other's company further. This is when Aemond is at his most vulnerable in front of you. These fleeting moments before sleep takes him and you’re free to inquire about his past or any troubles he might have. He’ll divulge anything you ask of him during this time - intimate questions regarding his past and childhood or your curiosities of dragons.

ღ┆ “Want to hear how a boy of only ten was able to claim the eldest remaining dragon do you?”

#stardustoftarth writes #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond x y/n #hotd #hotd imagine #hotd smut #hotd headcanons #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #aemond hotd #aemond smut #smut alphabet

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dragcnbreak · 6 months

Note

hiii can u maybe do a drabble with little!mike, like he wakes up tiny after a nightmare and cg!reader (masc if thats okay :)) has to comfort him? i love ur mike drabbles and headcanons btw theyre so RASKJHFLD /pos /nf obviously :)

HI FRIEND <3 I literally have like 7 requests to get to but I decided to write this because little!mike and I love the idea <3 ive kinda avoided using daddy because of how sexualized the term is but I use it here! I hope you don’t mind; I can always change it!!! I hope you enjoy <33

◞♡࿐ (post movie, so contains spoilers)

You were asleep when Mike woke up, sweating and crying. He had just woken up from a nightmare featuring the yellow rabbit, the man who had hurt his little brother and almost his little sister too. He had a bad day before and was ultimately exhausted so his nightmare made him age regress.

“Daddy,” he cried out for you, softly shaking your shoulder, “please wake up.” In his dream, the yellow rabbit had hurt you too and he couldn’t bare it if his dream had become reality. You were too important to him. When you didn’t wake up, Mike began sobbing even more and shaking you even harder. “Please, don’t tell me the bad man hurt you too.”

Fortunately, you had woken up and caught the last half of Mike’s sentence. “Hey hey hey bear, I’m okay. Daddy’s okay.” You reassured him, mumbling with sleep still evident in your voice. You slowly sat up on your elbows and gathered your boy into a hug, running your hands along his back in a repetitive manner to soothe him.

“Do you want to tell me what happened? What bad man?” You asked even if you likely already knew. You had barely known Mike when he worked at Freddy’s but you had heard plenty about the events surrounding William Afton from him, Vanessa, and even Abby.

Mike sniffled, “the yellow rabbit. The one who took Garrett and almost hurt Abby. He had hurt you this time and I couldn’t save you and he laughed and laughed and laughed. And then he came to hurt me and that’s when I woke up.” He started to sob more because of his rambling, this time in your arms.

You lifted a hand up and ran your fingers through his soft hair. “Oh, I’m so sorry, baby boy. That must have been so scary. But I’m okay and so is Abby. She’s right down the hall and I’m right here with you in my arms, safe and sound.” Mike nodded but kept crying, clearly still upset with his dream.

You began to think of ways to further calm him that didn’t involve staying up too much longer. He might not want to sleep again but you know he should, as he’s always tired. “Hey, how about we go warm you up some milk? And then I can borrow a book from Abby and read you a bedtime story? Does that sound okay?” Mike blanched at the thought of sleeping again but nodded anyway.

“That’s my good boy.” You pressed a kiss to his forehead and detached yourself from him, quickly getting up and rushing over to his side of the bed. You helped him up and held his hand as you walked to the kitchen together. You knew he was regressed to his usual age of about 10 but the fact that he didn’t reject your hand holding meant he was still pretty scared.

You arrived at the kitchen with your boy in tow, grabbing a pot and the gallon of milk in the fridge. You poured out some milk into the pot and turned the stove on before putting the milk back in its place. You grabbed a plastic spoon to stir and began to hum softly, squeezing Mike’s hand as you did.

Soon enough, the milk was warm enough (as per your taste tester’s word) and you still held hands on the way back to his room. He sipped his milk and sat on the bed. You ran your fingers through his hair once again and then made your way to Abby’s room. You were plenty quiet as you grabbed a book you knew Mike liked.

Back in his room, Mike had laid back down and put his glass on the bedside table, his eyes already starting to close. But he fought it, wanting to hear you telling him a bedtime story. And so you began telling it, making sure to do all the voices you know he loved to hear. He giggled at the appropriate times, still sniffling a bit as he drank some more milk.

Within a few minutes, you had finished the story and looked up to see the glass empty and your boy soundly asleep. You smiled fondly and shut the book softly. Putting it next to the glass, you got back into bed with Mike. You moved him slightly so you could spoon him, hoping to protect him from any more nightmares. And with that, you fell back asleep as well.

#mine #text #asks #pyr0-bra1ni4c #sfw agere #sfw age regression #agere #age regression #mike schmidt #michael schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x male reader #fnaf #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy’s movie #my fanfics

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poppadom0912 · 7 months

Text

Together (VI 2)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, and scary men.

Summary: Everyone in Chicago knows the signature Halstead stubbornness, but the Murray's only smell delusion

A/N: So, I made a mistake in the last chapter and forgot to add a whole section so this is the part I forgot. Sorry 😭😭

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

When you agreed to help clean up your dad's cabin, a place that had been a sort of holiday home till your mother passed away and your dad started to neglect it, you said you needed a distraction from work and this would be a nice sort of getaway from that bustling life to just be in the middle of the countryside with your brothers.

But this wasn’t what you had in mind when you said you wanted a distraction.

Currently, Will was trying his hardest to get your mind off the immense pain you were drowning in and for a while it was working. Will was a miracle worker in his own right, and you were starting to understand why his patients valued his bedside manner.

But nothing good ever lasted because curled up in his lap, his fingers running through your knotted red hair that was identical to his own curly mop while his other hand remained firm on your wrist where he could feel your pulse and he didn’t need to tell you why because you already knew the nauseous smell of death looming over you like a predator, reading to pounce the nanosecond something changed.

Deep down, guiltily, you wondered what you did to deserve all of this. It made you think the Halstead's were doomed to a lifetime of pain and perhaps you just had to come to terms with this lifestyle, one which you should’ve become accustomed to since your teenage years.

Around ten minutes ago you would say, or that’s what Will said specifically when you asked him, a man decked out in all black came down to what Will also said looks and feels like another basement and gave you food. Last time the Murray's kidnapped you, they let you starve but this time was clearly different.

With Will’s help, you sat up but most your body weight was leaning against Will. Resting your head on his shoulder, he described to you everything that was on the tray and for once, you could say that the Murray brothers surprised you in what you hoped was a in a good way.

Was this suspicious? Very much so yes but were you going to take advantage of what could be a one-off situation.

You could just about make out what they gave but Will start speaking before you could ask him to. There were two water bottles that size of his palm, a carton of grape juice which made you whine, two weird looking and most likely packet bought pb&j sandwiches and finally four plain butter biscuits.

Despite the gruelling hours of torture you endured, food was the last thing on your mind. It had been so long since you had last eaten though, the last meal you could recollect eating was breakfast which merely consisted of a Costco croissant that you ate in the car driving to the firehouse.

Just as you were going to voice your adversity to the food, Will continued being the mother hen you and jay bullied him for.

“Y/N, I don’t care if I have to force feed you, you’re going to eat something from the place and you going to get as much liquids in you. I don’t think this is the time and place for me to be teaching you about nutrition and health.”

You groaned, mumbling to him that you weren’t hungry, but you knew your attempts were futile.

“I promise that you’ll feel a little bit better once you eat. Once we get your sugar levels up a bit, you should be feeling less faint and hopefully you’ll have enough energy to talk to me in full sentences.” Will said, a soft smile on his bloody lips when he tore one of the sandwiches into small bite size pieces, feeding it straight to you when your arm refused to move. “Or I can keep the party going since you're already losing your voice and we don’t need it to be gone completely.”

You hummed in reply. Yeah, you and practically everyone else would appreciate if you still had your voice.

Chewing slowly, you watched Will eating the other sandwich. As the two of you ate, he did mention the poor quality of the food could easily mean something was wrong, but any food was better than no food according to the emergency medicine doctor.

If anything did go wrong though, there was nothing left to patch things up.

And if things did go wrong after this, then the Murray's actions were only getting weirder.

As Will opened the bottled water, gingerly holding it up for you so you could take a few slow sips, you wondered where Jay was and if he was getting the attention he desperately needed, especially after being shot in the snow.

“Do you think Jay’s okay?”

Will stayed silent for a minute when you hoarsely whispered. The question sounded so innocent but the meaning behind it weighs heavy on both your conscious.

“I hope so, I really hope so but he’s Jay. He's not going to stop till he finds us.”

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e

#one chicago x reader #one chicago imagine #jay halstead x reader #onechicago #chicago fire #chicago med #chicago pd #will halstead x reader #halstead sister #halstead brothers #kelly severide x reader #jay halstead x sister!reader #will halstead x sister!reader

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meetmyothersouls · 10 months

Text

Back To You

Jonah Hauer-King x Reader

Warnings: memory loss, hospitalization, talks of loss pregnancy, not proof read

Chapter 2

There was a time where being in England would have had me filled with wonder and excitement. But not now. Not when I have no recollection of even getting here and the apparent 4 years I’ve somehow forgotten. The job that I had in New York. Gone. The life that I had in New York...the job I loved in New York as a journalist. Gone. Everything I worked for just...gone? I'd never have let myself let all of that go. I'm definitely going to have to do some digging to find out what the hell happened to my life and to me.

Since I've woken up from, Haven has made sure to be present to keep me as comfortable as possible in my less-than-ideal situation. Unfortunately, only one person is allowed to stay with me overnight and Jonah insists that it be him. That being said, he's not been totally unpleasant to be around, it's just...a little awkward at times. Even though he hasn't touched me or even really gotten close to me again since he tried to kiss me, his glances seem...intimate and filled with longing and memories that he has, and I don't. It doesn't seem fair.

Even now he's looking at me. He thinks that I don't notice, but I do. In the last few days, I've picked up a few of his actions and his mannerisms. I've noticed that he bites his fingernails, which I find highly gross and annoying, when he's anxious. He runs his fingers through his dark hair when he's deep in thought or attempting conversation. I wonder what thoughts and memories are wracking his brain right now. I want to ask but it seems too intimate and intrusive a question. Every once in a while, he'll remind me that I can ask him for anything, but I think he's forgetting that the last four years of my life are totally gone. I don't ask him for anything because I don't feel comfortable doing it.

He's still staring at me when I turn my head to look at him. He doesn't look away, instead he gives me a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Jonah stands and starts to walk over to my bedside. Immediately my palms start to sweat. I'm no longer hooked up to any monitors, thank God because they'd be going crazy right now. He's got some weird effect on me that makes me jittery and nervous, like my body remembers how to react to him but my mind doesn't.

Jonah sits down on the foot of the bed and it dips down slightly with his weight. Just as he opens his mouth to speak, the curtain to my room swings open and Dr. Vincent walks in with Haven trailing behind. I let out an audible sigh of relief and if Jonah hears it, he doesn't let on. I'm fully dressed in an outfit that Jonah picked up for me at his house...or I guess our house. The whole thought is still jarring to me, but at least I'm more comfortable than I was in the hospital gown, and it appears I still dress the same. He brought me a pair of black leggings and an oversized Aerosmith T-shirt that I'm still not sure is mine or his. But it smells nice, and the fabric is soft so I'm not complaining. I sit up, wincing a bit as I do so. I can tell my stomach is different. Deflated almost. I push back the strange thought that I had a baby growing inside of me made by a man I don't even know.

"Alrighty, Mrs. Hauer-King," Dr. Vincent says. I fight back the urge to correct him. He is right after all. "Everything's on track for you to be out of here in the next hour or so, how does that sound?"

"It sounds great," I say, smiling. "I can't wait to get home." I look over at Haven who gives me one of those grim smiles. I don't even realize what I said until it's out. I look at Jonah and he's got his head down, facing his lap. He's picking at a loose nail he's just partially bit off. "I'm sorry Jonah, I just...this isn't my home."

"It is thought," he replies softly.

"I can't stay here."

He sniffles once and I start to get irritated at the sheer thought of him thinking I could still make this place my home. "Surely you don't expect me to uproot my entire life and stay here with you? I don't even know you!"

"Y/n," Haven says, "I know you're upset but-"

"I just want to go home!"

Jonah gets up, his jaw tight. "And I guess you expect me to give up my entire life? Just like that? These last four years may not exist for you, but they do for me!" Jonah trudges over to the curtain and tuns back to Haven and me. "I'll wait in the car."

"Give us a minute?" Haven asks Dr. Vincent once Jonah is gone.

"Of course, but might I add that it would be in your best interest to stay where you are...at least for the time being. I know this is difficult for everyone involved but cases of memory loss and amnesia almost always recover, albeit slowly. Being in an area that the brain is used to helps even if you yourself are not used to it. The memories are there just give them time."

"Thank you, Doctor," Haven says, a sweet smile on her face.

"Give me a ring when you're ready for me. There's just some paperwork and a few signatures we need before you leave," Dr. Vincent says as he exits.

Haven sighs and tuns back to me. She runs a hand through her blonde hair then holds them out in defense. "Listen, I know you want to leave, and you want to go home, but this is your home, y/n."

I want to slam my head into a wall, but I know it'll only make things worse. "No it's not! I had an amazing job in New York and an apartment and..."

"And all that is over now, it has been for years! You can't leave Jonah here by himself. You are his entire world, y/n."

I hate this. Every part of this is unfair. "So I'm supposed to stay here until what? Until the memories come back?"

Haven gives me a look that I know means yes. "You live here, y/n, and you love it. You have a job and a house and a husband any woman would kill to have."

The words she's saying sound nice in theory but a horrible thought washes over me and tears start to burn my eyes. "And what if they don't?"

"What?"

"The memories. What if they don't come back?"

Haven doesn't say anything at first. I can see her fear just as well as I can feel mine. There's a very real possibility that I won't get them back, no matter how high the likelihood of regeneration. But then she smiles, ever the optimist and says "they will. I know they will. Until then, you're going to have to do what the doctor says. You need to be around familiar-" I give her an incredulous look because none of this is familiar- "familiar to your subconscious, y/n. You can't uproot everything you and Jonah have built here. Just give it some time. Please?"

I groan, plopping back onto my pillow. "Fine. But I'm still looking for plane tickets out of here just to keep the hope alive."

The ride back to Jonah's is a culture shock. It's cloudy and wet, which from what I've been told about England checks out. Jonah pointed out a few landmarks to Haven, which is just as informative for me considering this is my second first time seeing them. I decide to sit in the back seat, and I pretend to not notice as Jonah steals a few glances at me through the rear-view mirror.

It's pouring down rain and I'm exhausted by the time we arrive to Jonah's house, but I definitely notice the size and glory of the house. It's a beautiful two-story home, that seems to be partially under construction, but even with the few areas that are being worked on, it is marvelous. I'm marveling at the house and barely notice that I'm getting soaked by the rain.

"She's a work in progress," Jonah says, as he holds an umbrella over me. "But she'll be a real beauty when she's done."

I look up at Jonah and give him a small smile as he walks me into the house. If the outside was marvelous, the inside is astounding. My mouth is hanging open as I take small steps around the luxurious home. The hardwood floors gleam from the light shining from a huge chandelier hanging over head. The walls are painted a beautiful pale-yellow color that reminds me of baby sunflowers. I walk into the kitchen, and I audibly gasp. The granite counter tops are to die for and there's a tiny herb garden sitting on the windowsill. It's all so beautiful and overwhelming. It's too much to take in.

"Are you okay, y/n?" Jonah asks, clearly knowing my face enough to know that I'm not okay at all.

"Just...tired. I think I'll go to bed, if that's okay? It's been a lot to take in."

"Of course."

We stand there awkwardly. I don't know the layout of this house, but I also don't know how to ask where I'm supposed to be sleeping. I really hope he doesn't think I'll be sleeping with him. I clear my throat and Jonah jumps a little.

"Oh, yes. Right. Sorry," he laughs, and his fingers go to his mouth, wanting to bite the nails he's already chewed all the way down. "This is all new for me too. You'll take our bedroom. I'll sleep in one of the guest rooms. Haven you can have the other one, if you'd like."

"Please stay," I say, unable to help myself. I don't look at Jonah, not wanting to see the look my words caused.

"I'd love to stay, thank you."

There's another momentary awkward pause until I break it. "Can you uh...can you show me where the bedroom is?"

Jonah nods and I follow him. The walk is silent, and for some reason i feel bad about it...I shouldn't...I didn't do anything wrong, but I do. I can't even have a normal conversation with this man without it being super fucking awkward. I hate this. I want to go home. This feels like spending the night with a family member you've never met. He leads me to a door at the end of a long hallway and I suddenly regret not asking Haven to come with me. Not that I think Jonah would hurt me...it's just weird.

"Here you are," Jonah says, pushing open the bedroom door. The bedroom is of course, gorgeous. There's huge king-sized bed against a dark purple wall in the center of the room. A massive walk-in closet with what appears to be both mine and Jonah's clothes. On the other side of the room is that master bathroom which looks very white and very clean. It sparkles even in the dark. There's a glass door that leads to a balcony with two chairs sitting on the patio. It's beautiful. Jonah leans on the door frame as I gape at the room. I turn around and he's smiling, which I hate to say is the prettiest smile I've ever seen on a man. "I'll be down the hall to your right if you need anything. Haven's room will be to the left. It's a big house so it's easy to get lost if you don't know the layout. Tomorrow, I can give you a tour if you want."

"I'd like that, thank you, Jonah," I say, hoping to get him out of here faster.

"Goodnight, y/n."

"Goodnight, Jonah."

I wake up and it's dark. I don't even remember falling asleep. I'm sweaty and breathing heavily. I need some water or some fresh air. I reach for my phone on the nightstand. It's dead. Fuck. I slide out of bed and put my hands in front of me, desperate to find the light switch. Why's it so fucking dark in here? I find the doorknob and twist it open. The hall is dark too except for a light coming from a cracked open doorway. I walk toward it and as I get closer, I hear soft singing coming from inside. It's a slightly familiar song. It becomes more distinct the closer I get. I'm right outside the door and I realize the person singing is Jonah and the song is Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol. As if sensing me, he stops singing and looks up. He sees me and I can't even pretend like I'm not there.

"I was just looking for the bathroom," I lie. I open the door a bit wider and get nauseous as I see what room he's in. It's a nursery. "S-sorry, I hope I wasn't interrupting anythi-"

"Oh no, not at all," Jonah smiles, but it's a fake one. I can tell. "Bathroom is right across the hall on your left."

"Thanks," I say.

He doesn't get up to join me or point out the fact that there was a bathroom in the bedroom I was in. I flip on the light and wince at the brightness. I pee and wash my hands and then drink the water from the tap. When I exit, the door to the nursey is still open and the light is still on, which means Jonah is still in there. I feel bad just walking by, so I walk back across the hall. Jonah's head is in his hands, and I suddenly feel really guilty about all of this. He's mourning not only the loss of his unborn child, but the technical loss of his wife a well. I've been a massive bitch.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

He shoots his head up and looks at me, rubbing his wrist across his eyes as if to hide the fact that he was crying. "Yeah," he says quickly. "Do you need help to you room?"

"I don't think so," I say, "just...two doors down?"

"Three," Jonah says with a smile.

"Yikes. Well, goodnight," I say turning around.

"Don't go."

"Hmm?"

"Don't leave. Haven told me about you looking for plane tickets, and...and I know it's selfish me, but I can't...I can't do this without you. I need you. And I know this might be a lot for you to hear right now and you're probably feeling very overwhelmed, but...please? Just give it some time. Give me a month, and if you still don't remember anything or you've decided you hate it here, then you can go. But give me that. Give me a month. A month to help you remember why you fell in love with me in the first place."

He's looking at me with pleading eyes, he's poured his heart out to me. And even though he's clearly sleep deprived and depressed, he's still somehow beautiful. And as I'm standing in a nursery of the baby we made but never had...how could I say no?

"Okay," I whisper.

Tags: @danielabetancourth @luna2034 @wandamaximoffbae @twinkledinkleg-blog @anonyymoouussssss @nonsensical-nonsence @paramorelvrr @thedonswife13

✨let me know if you want to be added to my Jonah tag list✨

#jonah hauer king x reader #jonah hauer king fan fiction #jonah hauer king imagine #jonah hauer king #jonah hauer-king #back to you #fan fic writing #writers of tumblr #writing #my writing

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