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tinycoffeeroom · 5 months ago

Text

treat you better | carlos sainz

face claim: none ♡

request: here !

requested: Could I request a Carlos smau where another driver breaks your heart and he’s there to pick up the pieces and make you whole again? Please and thank you ❤️

cw: cheating, bad guy charles, mentions of unwell family members, cursing

a/n: charles and alex i love u guys i promise this is just for the au <3

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November

👤 charles_leclerc liked by fan, fan, and 78,283 others

f1gossip Trouble in paradise for Charles and Y/N? Charles Leclerc was spotted on a long walk on one of Monaco's more secluded islands with a mysterious brunette and his and Y/N's dog, Leo, this weekend. Sources say the pair were often looking to see if there were cameras around, the two of them giggling as they held hands and played with the puppy. Y/N L/N, Charles girlfriend of 2 years, is currently said to be on a trip home to see family, we wonder if the two have broken up or if Charles is back to his old ways?

fan f1gossip tagging charles is so shady i love it

fan when i catch you charles

fan no bc remember when a fan said they met y/n in her hometown and she was visiting her gran bc she's not doing too good? charles u fuckin suck bro ↳ fan wtf really???? oh i hope his tyres stick to the road next race ↳ fan kmag you know what you need to do ↳ fan we put our hopes and prayers in the paddock terror 🙏🙏

fan ok but the girls gorgeous ↳ fan THAT'S YOUR TAKEAWAY FROM THIS? ↳ fan im just saying damn

fan this is not what i meant when i said i wanted silly season to get more interesting

fan *looks around* wow i'm so surprised... not like charles has a bad rep with women or anything

fan i hope y/ns ok... my heart is hurting for her ↳ fan the paddock adore her, charles has got a big storm coming next week

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liked by kellypiquet, carmenmmundt and 25 others

y/npriv my gran is doing so much better (nothing can keep the old girl down), my hometown is still as gorgeous as always and my sister got me a cake :)

kellypiquet my girl :((( i'm so happy your grans ok 🤍 ↳ y/npriv thank u kelly bear 🤍 ↳ kellypiquet did i have to physically hold max back from going after he who shall not be named?? yes... did i consider letting go?? very much so ↳ y/npriv 😭😭 hes not voldemort babe 😭 you should have just let him go ↳ kellypiquet now is that really how you feel? ↳ y/npriv ... no but i wish i did ↳ maxverstappen1 she has to go to sleep at some point, then i shall be free ↳ y/npriv thats so ominous you strange creature (i appreciate you)

carmenmmundt me and george have been keeping your gran in our prayers angel 🩷 ↳ y/npriv i love you carm 🩷 ↳ georgerussell63 and me? ↳ y/npriv i tolerate you :)

flavy.barla esteban nearly joined max ↳ y/npriv love him dearly but este's about as intimidating as a teddy bear ↳ estebanocon ?? hey??? ↳ y/npriv sorry king xo there's a reason your nicknames estie bestie ↳ estebanocon let it DIEEEEE ↳ y/npriv never 🫶

schecoperez I am glad your gran is ok, y/n. Let me or Carola know if you need anything x ↳ y/npriv thank you checo :( give the little ones and carola a big hug from me x ♥️ schecoperez

lilyzneimer he shall d word at my hands ↳ y/npriv i fuckin love you lily

lewishamilton he will never know peace next year. ↳ lewishamilton i am however happy to hear your gran is well x ↳ y/npriv lewis 😭 thank you x

francisca.c.gomes pierre has been shouting at Him on the phone for like an hour... ↳ y/npriv 😭 ... what are they saying ↳ francisca.c.gomes a lot of french and things i don't want delicate eyes (yuki) to read... ↳ y/npriv pierre i appreciate you ↳ pierregasly i'm gonna kill him ↳ y/npriv ok maybe tone it down frenchie

lilymhe alex is setting his zoo on him ↳ y/npriv that's how you know it's serious wow ↳ alex_albon tinky's gonna boot him in the head

sebastianvettel i am very glad to hear your gran is ok, y/n, sending her and you all my love x ↳ y/npriv thank you seb :( miss you x ↳ sebastianvettel come and see us soon! the kids miss you x ↳ y/npriv you got it! x

danielricciardo he's a cunt ↳ danielricciardo and i don't mean that in a nice aussie way ↳ y/npriv DANIEL ↳ oscarpiastri no he's right, in the nasty aussie way, he's a cunt ↳ y/npriv oscar i did not raise you to talk like this ↳ oscarpiastri we are literally like 4 years apart in age... ↳ y/npriv kicking a girl when she's down WOW oscar ↳ oscarpiastri ... i am sorry mother dearest ↳ y/npriv that's better

carlossainz55 hermosa, he may be il predestinato but to me he is carne morta (dead meat) ↳ y/npriv carlos 😭 ↳ carlossainz55 also i'm glad to know your gran is well, send her my love ↳ y/npriv she already fancies you enough as it is ↳ carlossainz55 my plan is working :) ↳ y/npriv what plan? are you seducing my family members??? hiding my mum as we speak ↳ carlossainz55 something like that ;)

yukitsunoda0511 happy to see your gran is ok! and i am sorry about the other thing :((((( ↳ y/npriv yuki my angel you have nothing to be sorry about

kevinmagnussen i know what i have to do ↳ y/npriv kevin NO you're like 2 points away from a race ban!! ↳ kevinmagnussen worth it :) ↳ y/npriv nicohulkenburg pls talk some sense into your teammate ↳ nicohulkenburg unfortunately y/n i too will be joining kevin in his "defense" ↳ y/npriv haas i am so sorry

landonorris i may have done a thing... ↳ y/npriv i am terrified... ↳ landonorris i'll text you :)

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📍Monaco

👤 landonorris, carlossainz55, francisca.c.gomes, kellypiquet, lilymhe, lilynzeimer, flavy.barla, carmenmmundt liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 87,902 others

y/nstagram angel baby, dumb and dumber and my girls 🩷

Comments on this post have been limited

carlossainz55 ... am i dumb or dumber ↳ y/nstagram do you really want to know? 🤨 ↳ carlossainz55 for my own sanity im saying i'm dumb ↳ landonorris why am i dumber????? ↳ carlossainz55 do you really want to know? 🤨

carmenmmundt don't forget about lunch today xx ↳ y/nstagram been looking forward to it since i boarded the plane 🫶

landonorris you're welcome for the lift and the room btw 🙄 ↳ y/nstagram my saviour xx ↳ landonorris and for stealing leo for you ↳ y/nstagram I NEVER ASKED YOU TO STEAL HIM???? 😭 ↳ landonorris well i did because i'm an amazing friend and am willing to sacrifice all my bloody furniture ↳ y/nstagram you leave the baby alone, he was probably stressed :(

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FEBRUARY

(estrellita - little star) (uy, quécarechimba - ugh, that dickhead)

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📍Shanghai

👤 carlossainz55, landonorris liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 89,028 others

y/nstagram did y'all think i would miss the first race week?? ft dumber and roomie x

fan mother has returned!!!!! ♥️ y/nstagram

fan if looks could kill, carlos would be six feet under ... charles was FUMING ↳ fan given the way his girly hid when y/n appeared i would say he has no right to be mad at all ↳ fan if the girl i cheated on rocked up to my teammates garage whilst i was with my side piece i quite frankly would walk onto the track midrace ↳ fan how do we know charles cheated? they've not said anything ↳ fan exactly. if they had been broken up surely they would have put out some sort of announcement to clear things up ????

scuderiaferrari always good to see you in red, y/n ❤️ ↳ y/nstagram FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE!!!!!! 🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎🐎

carlossainz55 i hate this new nickname ↳ y/nstagram what else should i call you? ↳ carlossainz55 yours ↳ fan CARLOS I SAW THAT????????

landonorris i have been demoted from bestie to roomie... this is the thanks i get... ↳ y/nstagram thanks roomie xx btw bins go out on tuesday :)

lewishamilton now you're free of your ferrari obligations, you should come across to mercedes next time ;) ↳ mercedesamgf1 we would love to see you over here y/n! ↳ mclaren um no us next?? ↳ alpinef1team no us!!! ↳ redbullracing come to the winning team :) ↳ scuderiaferrari y/n will always be a ferrari girl, back OFF 🤺🤺🤺 ♥️ carlossainz55

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charles_leclerc added y/nstagram added to their story to their story

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liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55 and 20 others

y/npriv that bitchass man... idk how he thought he was gonna spin that story but not on my watch

oscarpiastri did you really have to use my meme though? ↳ y/npriv yes it was funny and otherwise i was gonna call him a cheating lying bastard on main so 🤷🏻‍♀️ ↳ oscarpiastri understandable, please continue

danielricciardo lando was laughing so hard i think he bust a rib ↳ landonorris it still hurts to breathe but holy shit y/n i love u ↳ y/npriv love u too stink :) also don't forget to pick up leo's food from the shops ↳ landonorris you do know you can text me this stuff? ↳ y/npriv yeah but reminding everyone we're roomies is funny to me

maxverstappen1 walked past ferrari hospitality and fred was PISSED ↳ y/npriv 👀👀 carlossainz55 can you confirm? ↳ carlossainz55 oh, absolutely... i was worried he was going to have a heart attack or something

francisca.c.gomes ok but did he not even think to talk to you first before posting that? it's literally been months ↳ y/npriv apparently not 🙃 texted him about it and suddenly he was sorry ↳ francisca.c.gomes men 🙄 ↳ pierregasly ???? ↳ francisca.c.gomes i stand by what i said ↳ y/npriv yeah is there a problem gasly? ↳ pierregasly no problem at all ma'am, as you were

scuderiaferrari we had no knowledge charles was going to post that. we love you y/n ↳ danielricciardo FERRARI? why are you on y/ns priv? ↳ y/npriv me and the social media intern are besties xx

carlossainz55 estrellita, lets go for dinner, you deserve it ↳ y/npriv 👀 are you paying? ↳ carlossainz55 of course, i am a gentleman ↳ y/npriv pick me up in an hour :)

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liked by fan, fan and 40,718 others

f1gossip Carlos Sainz and Y/N L/N were spotted at dinner last night. The two enjoyed a meal before taking a stroll along the Monaco pier front where, as pictured, the pair were in high spirits. We're happy to see Y/N looking so happy following the revelation that her ex-boyfriend, and Carlos' current F1 teammate, had cheated on her. The two were then joined by Y/N's current roommate and F1 driver, Lando Norris, who then whisked them off to a local nightclub. We continue to send Y/N our support and hope to see more of her happy side.

fan i don't think i've ever seen y/n laugh like that, we love to see it

fan this coupled with the photos of charles and his girly arguing in the paddock 🤭🤭 we know who won the breakup

fan why do i kinda think carlos and y/n would be cute together ↳ fan woah, she's only been broken up with charles for a few months and under really shitty circumstances, she needs time to heal ↳ fan ofc ofc!!! i just mean when she's over ch*rles, the two would make a really good couple

fan happy y/n and happy carlos, my two favourite things ❤️

fan y/ncarlos fans we rise!!! ↳ fan he would treat her so right ↳ fan the entire time she dated That Man, carlos has always been so nice to her, i wonder if he secretly fancied her all along 👀 ↳ fan or maybe he's just a good guy ↳ fan that too 🤷🏻‍♀️

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APRIL

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📍 Australia

liked by y/nstagram, landonorris and 890,274 others

carlossainz55 swipe across to see me and oomf Another Carlando podium! We know what you guys wanna see and we love to deliver! The car drove like a dream today, shame we couldn't get more points but it's always nice to celebrate a great race with some champagne showers!

See 98,072 other comments

fan WHO TAUGHT CARLOS WHAT OOMF WAS??? ↳ fan either lando or y/n 100% 😭

fan CARLANDO PODIUM!!!!!!!!! WE DREAM OF DAYS LIKE THIS

y/nstagram FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE !!! 🐎🐎🐎🐎 congrats winner 🥳 ↳ carlossainz55 i think i was right when i said you would be my good luck charm 😉 ♥️ y/nstagram ↳ fan oh they're so sick for this ↳ fan y/ncarlos'ers we're so winning

charles_leclerc congrats ↳ fan ik for a fact he was forced to comment

landonorris carlando are back baby!! ↳ landonorris also cant believe im either oomf or roomie... ↳ y/nstagram stop leaving your smelly socks in the bathroom and maybe i'll change the nickname ↳ landonorris oh that was mean

fan "shame we couldn't get more points" carlos you shady shady man

fan who else cheered when kmag pulled through and took * out of the race

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liked by carlossainz55, francisca.c.gomes and 21 others

y/npriv oh we eating good tonight

kellypiquet i'm sure we are 👀 ↳ y/npriv KELLY???

landonorris carlos is so sexy ↳ y/npriv real ↳ landonorris back off my man??? ↳ carlossainz55 i'm gonna hold your hand when i say this lando... ↳ landonorris WOOOOOOW.... i see how it is carlos

carlossainz55 gorgeous as always ↳ y/npriv you can't even see my face in that photo carlos 🤣 ↳ carlossainz55 don't need to see you to know you're gorgeous ↳ maxverstappen1 i hate to say it but that was smooth ↳ danielricciardo they don't call him the smooth operator for no reason

scuderiaferrari power (soon to be (fingers crossed)) couple ↳ carlossainz55 😉 ↳ y/npriv not from the main acc damn

francisca.c.gomes need you biblically ↳ y/npriv come here then babe xx ↳ flavy.barla lemme join ↳ y/npriv i got two hands babygirl ↳ oscarpiastri estebanocon pierregasly you gonna let her snatch both your girls? ↳ estebanocon unfortunately there was a clause when they agreed to date us and it was that y/n is wifey, we are simply the Others ↳ pierregasly ^^

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liked by carlossainz55, lilymhe and 25 others

y/npriv decided to put him out of his misery :)

carlossainz55 and who is that sexy man? ↳ y/npriv idk but he keeps speaking spanish to me even though he knows i dont understand it 🙄 ↳ carlossainz55 but do you like it? 👀 ↳ y/npriv i think you know i do x

francisca.c.gomes AND YOU DIDNT UPDATE THE GROUPCHAT??????? ↳ lilymhe FR!!!! I LITERALLY SAID TELL US AFTER YOU KISS HIM ↳ y/npriv SHUT UP RN ↳ carlossainz55 no do go on ↳ lilymhe what happens in the y/n gf's gc, stays in the y/n gf's gc

carlossainz55 estás muy guapa, vuelve a la cama cariño ❤️ (you look so pretty, come back to bed sweetheart) ↳ maxverstappen1 we have the translate function on ig you horndog ↳ y/npriv don't be mad i snatched ur man ↳ maxverstappen1 ... he'll never forget the redbull days

landonorris RUE WHEN WAS THIS?????? ↳ y/npriv hiiiii lando... um so.... 🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️🏃🏻‍♀️ ↳ landonorris GET BACK HERE U RAT EXPLAIN YOURSELF ↳ landonorris carlossainz55 WHAT ARE U DOING WITH MY ROOMIE ???? ↳ carlossainz55 i mean i could tell you but instagram does have guidelines ↳ landonorris ew ew ew that's so gross i dont even wanna know ↳ landonorris happy for you guys or whatever but ew never tell me anything remotely sexual about y/n or i will vom ↳ y/npriv lando wtf???? ↳ landonorris you're like my annoying sister i'd have to remove my skinsuit if carlos opens his fat mouth ↳ carlossainz55 hey? ↳ y/npriv you're so fuckin weird ily

danielricciardo HE SHOOTS, HE SCORES!!!! ↳ carlossainz55 you were right, they don't call me the smooth operator for no reason ↳ y/npriv you were literally giggling and kicking your feet after i kissed you ↳ carlossainz55 y/n :(((( my reputation :((((((

lilyzneimer wait do was taking the photos? ↳ y/npriv ... self timer ↳ lilyzneimer down horrifically bad wow

scuderiaferrari OH Y/NCARLOS'ERS WE WON!!!!! ↳ y/npriv admin 😭 not u too ↳ scuderiaferrari not even sorry i've been WAITING for this one!!!

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liked by francisca.c.gomes, fan and 30,892 others

f1gossip A surprise twist in the Charles and Y/N drama? Following Sainz's back to back victory in Australia and then Silverstone, Y/N and Carlos shared what looks like a loving kiss. Eagle eyed fans then spotted Charles on camera arguing with a Ferrari employee in the garages following the Y/NCarlos moment. Finally, Carlos was spotted outside where he was soon joined by Y/N, the two leaving the circuit hand in hand. It is noted Charles' new beau was nowhere to be seen.

fan Y/NCARLOS'ERS WE SO WON!!!! ♥️ 10,829 others

fan she upgraded wowow

fan charles throwing a hissy fit was so funny i was cackling watching it

fan kika in the likes... what do you know queen? ♥️ francisca.c.gomes

user not her being a homie hopper 🤢 ↳ carlossainz55 can't be a homie hopper if we're not homies :) ↳ fan CARLOS????? ↳ fan oh he ate them up ↳ fan carlos has not been fucking with ch*rles for a WHILE, even before all the drama

fan y/n's face... she looked so happy my heart is so full ❤️

fan queen y/n we trust your judgement

fan ik the entire grid is cheering rn

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📍 England

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 105,018 others

y/nstagram carlando podium again!!! anything else interesting happen at Silverstone? :)

fan the carlando bears 😭 her boyfriend(?) and bestie 😭 ↳ landonorris roomie* ↳ y/nstagram you love me shut up

fan she's so unbothered im giggling

francisca.c.gomes the last slide... ↳ y/nstagram don't worry baby, he was just dropping me off for our date x ↳ carlossainz55 all i am to you is a glorified taxi driver

landonorris couldn't even post a photo of me for my podium... see how it is ↳ y/nstagram don't want your ugly mug messing up my feed ↳ y/nstagram also grey bin needs to go out on tuesday ↳ landonorris you're on bin duty this week? ↳ y/nstagram actually i'm gonna be on a boat in spain soooo ↳ landonorris i hope y'all break up ↳ fan LANDO ? ↳ y/nstagram he's joking dw he did the whole "big brother" speech with carlos, was kinda funny knowing carlos would flatten him in 2 seconds flat ↳ landonorris oh now i really hope y'all break up

fan y/n please we know you have bf carlos pics... i only ask for one thing ↳ y/nstagram i'll post some soon x ↳ fan the most unserious soft/hard launch

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👤 carlossainz55 liked by carlossainz55, lilyzneimer and 98,017 others

y/nstagram my boyfriends so hot, do you guys mind if i chew on him a lil?

carlossainz55 please don't chew me??? ↳ y/nstagram it's internet sla- never mind, ok mr sainz

fan her captions are always so real i love her

fan unhinged y/n is back, we missed you best friend ♥️ y/nstagram

scuderiaferrari HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH HARD LAUNCH LETS GO Y/NCARLOS'ERS!!!! ↳ y/nstagram i love u admin ❤️ ↳ scuderiaferrari our ferrari girl, forever ❤️

landonorris i hate this ↳ fan your ex and your roomie 😔 ↳ landonorris you get it 😔 ↳ carlossainz55 stop calling me your ex 🙄 ↳ landonorris you dare deny the love we shared?

francisca.c.gomes never mind him, can i chew on you a lil? ↳ kellypiquet ^ ↳ lilymhe ^ ↳ lilyzneimer ^ ↳ flavy.barla ^ ↳ carmenmmundt ^ ↳ y/nstagram everyone grab a limb x ↳ carlossainz55 please don't chew my girlfriend

fan thank you for the pic y/n! sorry for interrupting your holiday 🥺 ↳ y/nstagram don't be silly!! it was lovely to meet you <333 dont forget to send me the link to the dress!! ↳ fan on it!! ↳ fan omg how was it meeting them? ↳ fan they're honestly so sweet, they were just holding hands and walking around and carlos was yapping away and the way y/n was looking at him 🥺 they're endgame fr ↳ fan could actually cry?? ↳ fan also when they were on the beach, carlos twirled her around and they started dancing to the music playing from a nearby bar... it was actually like a movie scene 😭😭

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👤 y/nstagram liked by y/nstagram, scuderiaferrari and 505,287 others

carlossainz55 dicen que ver una estrella fugaz da buena suerte, y tenían razón, mi estrellita ❤️ (they say seeing a shooting star is good luck, and they were right, my little star)

See 198,017 other comments

francisca.c.gomes that first picture... i love my girlfriend ↳ carlossainz55 can't even have peace on my own hard launch ↳ francisca.c.gomes you snatched y/n from her girlfriends, you will never know peace.

fan he bagged a baddie wowow

fan the caption??? oh hes in LOVE ♥️ carlossainz55

y/nstagram 🥺 carlos..i'm so grateful to have you in my life ❤️ ↳ carlossainz55 i am the one who's grateful ❤️

scuderiaferrari heyyy y/n *with rizz* ↳ carlossainz55 even my own teams admin wow... ↳ scuderiaferrari not my fault your girlfriends hot

user homie hopper ↳ carlossainz55 eat glass :) ↳ y/nstagram CARLOS ↳ scuderiaferrari we love that you're happy but please carlos this is still your official account

lilymhe y/n i could treat you so much better ↳ carlossainz55 back off i've waited years for this ↳ y/nstagram YEARS??? ↳ carlossainz55... 🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️🏃🏻‍♂️ ↳ y/nstagram you're literally sat right next to me ... ↳ y/nstagram he just got up and ran away... ↳ fan this is so fucking funny sddjsdhdk ↳ landonorris danielricciardo what was that about him being a smooth operator? ↳ danielricciardo hes also fucking dumb

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a/n: hope everyone enjoys! i am working hard on part 2 of girlfriend of the enemy so we can have some happy charles <3 also 2-3 posts in one week who AM I? (i'm gonna be busy w work so i'm trying to give u guys some food in case i have to disappear)

#carlos sainz smau #carlos sainz social media au #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine #f1 social media au #f1 smau #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic

5K notes · View notes

drunk-person · 4 months ago

Text

Leather gloves, jealous and dragons

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: After the moons pass and Aemond and Lady Y/n's marriage becomes increasingly stronger, there is only one creature capable of keeping the prince away from his wife for more than a few hours, Vhagar. Sometimes Y/n cares, sometimes she doesn't, but if there's one thing she never cares about, it's the thick black gloves that her husband wears when he goes flying.

WARNING: 18+ mdni! Smut, p in v, gloves being used inappropriately (a lot of things have been used inappropriately on this blog lately, I'm talking about you training yard), fingering, clothed sex, dom/sub tones if you squint, no description for reader.

Word cont: 2.900 k

Author's note: Okay, I was just casually scrolling through Aemond's tag when this idea came up, and yes I was writing the bottom half of the fourth chapter of The Gossip, but I HAD to write this story! @peachysunrize I hope you like it, I added some inventions from my head in the middle of it 💕💕. English is not my first language so be kind if you can.

Y/n Arryn was a respectable and well-regarded lady, throughout Westeros there were men fighting for her hand as soon as she was old enough to marry. Proposals came from the North, the Rech and even Dorne, but the one that was of most interest to Lord Arryn was the one that came in a black envelope with red edges sealed with the Targaryen family crest.

The hand of the king had proposed marriage between Y/n and his grandson Prince Aemond Targaryen. The young woman felt her heart come to her mouth as soon as her father told her what he had decided, she would marry Prince Aemond in two moons.

The first time Y/n set foot on Kings Landing she was terrified, the idea of marrying a man she barely knew making her thoughts cloudier than water. And when she met Prince Aemond, this terror increased even more, something she didn't think was possible.

He was as scary and taciturn as they had told her, he barely gave her a look and only said two words of courtesy, other than muttering every now and then while looking down on everyone as if he were from a race superior to mere mortals.

Y/n's fear became even more overwhelming after she met Aegon, Aemond's older brother. Her heart ached as she listened to the gossip around the fortress about how he cheated on his wife, how he was always drunk, and how he spent more time in the brothels than in the fortress. Sadness took over her, and she imagined how terrible life itself would be from now on.

How wrong she was.

Things began to change on the night of the wedding when the prince vehemently denied a bed ceremony. Y/n was so nervous, the fear of the nuptials was already consuming her, combined with the fact that other people would be watching it made her tremble, until Aemond denied the ceremony and ripped that fear out of her.

The remaining fear was quickly extinguished when Aemond gently laid her on the bed and made her cry with pleasure in a way she never thought possible. Her hands tangled in his silver strands of hair as he touched her in places that made her blush with embarrassment as she remembered the other day.

From then on, little by little, she got to know her husband and every day she became more grateful for that. He still had that stoic and arrogant air, but now Y/n could see behind it, she saw the small acts of importance he gave her daily.

How he made a point of having at least one meal a day with her, how he asked how her day had been, how every now and then she would wake up after a passionate night and find an arrangement of beautiful flowers on the table in her room. And each of these things from the smallest to the largest warmed her heart until it was completely melted by her husband, to the point where she couldn't wait to be with him.

Little by little Aemond spent more and more time with her, and when they weren't tangled in the sheets so close together that you didn't know where one began and the other ended, they were sitting in the gardens talking, or reading together in some quiet place, or even just quietly enjoying each other's company. At a certain point, the only one who could receive more attention from Aemond than Y/n was Vhagar since he almost always went on long flights with the dragon.

That afternoon in particular Aemond was taking much longer than usual and Y/n was waiting for him impatiently as she walked around the room. He had promised to arrive before sunset so they would have time to walk around the garden, but now the sun had already set and the maids had even lit the candles.

The loud noise of the door suddenly invaded the room and Y/n promptly got up to wait for her husband, as soon as he entered her field of vision Y/n arched her eyebrows ironically.

-Did you decide to show up, husband? - Moons ago Y/n wouldn't have spoken to him in such a way in her wildest dreams, but now she was so familiar with him that she often didn't have as much politeness when speaking.

-I'm sorry, wife. - He said, removing the belt with the dagger and sword and throwing it on the couch. -Vhagar was a little sensitive this afternoon, she tends to want to fly longer distances when she is like this.

Y/n just made a humming sound with her mouth instead of responding, a habit she had picked up from Aemond without even realizing it. However, Y/n couldn't help biting her lower lip lightly when she saw him still wearing his riding clothes, she had never said anything to him, but seeing him returning from the flight always affected her mood and it was almost automatic so that she got excited.

-Wife… - Aemond murmured, approaching Y/n from behind and holding her firmly by the waist. -Are you by any chance jealous of Vhagar… a dragon?

His voice was incredulous and Y/n burned with embarrassment. Before she could respond Aemond laughed, something that rarely happened, which made her blush even more as she tried tried to free herself from his arms.

-You don't need to be embarrassed, I find it very flattering that you feel such appreciation for me to the point of feeling jealous. - He arched his eyebrow, still smiling. - No matter how unreasonable it may be.

-Husband.. - Y/n complained grumpily looking at her feet.

At that point she was no longer red only from the small misbehavior, but also from the thin, rough texture of her husband's riding gloves against her sensitive, soft skin. That was always a problem, she couldn't help but sigh every time she saw Aemond arrive wearing those damn gloves. And when he ripped them off and threw them haphazardly on the table? She felt a pressure between her legs that made her want to jump on him.

-What is it? Why are you all bristling, wife? - Aemond rubbed his hands against her arms and Y/n shivered even more making him arch his eyebrows again.

-They're your gloves, husband. - She said looking at the floor. – They are rough.

-I can take it off if you want. - He spoke, still gently stroking her arms, but after speaking he noticed that his wife lowered her eyes and didn't respond and then, approaching her lips to her ear, he spoke in a low voice, almost making her sigh. - You don't want me to take it off, do you?

-Do you like rougher things, dear wife? - And with the question he ran his hands down Y/n's body and slowly pulled the fabric of the dress up and accumulated them on her hips, making Y/n gasp as she felt the rough gloves passing over her thighs and squeezing them. slowly. Aemond couldn't help but smile when he noticed his wife's reactions to the roughest touch.

-Come here my dear, I'll show you how much I missed you. - He said, pulling her more and more towards him, sitting in one of the armchairs in the room while he placed her on his lap facing the large mirror and guided his hands to his wife's knees, slowly separating her legs, now being able to see the moisture that had formed in her intimacy.

-I haven't even touched you yet, dear wife, and you're already so wet for me. - His delicious voice sounded in her ear as he slowly moved his hands up her thighs, making her desperate for him to get to where she needed him most. The sight of his gloved fingers running up her legs made her roll her eyes with desire.

Aemond smiled mischievously and Y/n held her breath, not knowing where to look. His smile intensified as he brought his fingers to her cunt and at this point Y/n was barely breathing with desire.

Slowly he guided two fingers to her entrance and rubbed gently, pulling some of the moisture concentrated there and taking it to the pearl, which he began to rub languidly, eliciting sighs and moans from Y/n.

-You look so beautiful when you open your legs for me. - He murmured, brushing his lips gently against the shell of her ear, making her let out a louder moan. - So beautiful making these perfect sounds when I've barely touched you yet.

He then moved his fingers down and with a smooth movement that made Y/n roll her eyes, he penetrated just one gloved finger into her cunt. The sight of his finger disappearing inside her as he admired her with that look of pure adoration made her want to cry with desire.

-Very good beautiful girl. - He sighed as he slowly moved his finger teasing her, knowing very well that she needed more. - You always welcome me so well. How about another one?

He had barely asked and Y/n was already nodding her head practically begging for him.

-Such a needy lady my wife is. - He murmured as he inserted another finger inside her, making her moan his name with praise. - I can't leave our bed for a few hours because it becomes a meaningless mess.

Aemond guided his free hand to the front laces of Y/n's dress and pulled them tightly, loosening her wife's neckline more and more until her breasts were exposed to his pure delight, who guided his gloved hand to her erect nipple. of her gently pinching him as he admired her reflection in the mirror.

Meanwhile he moved his fingers slowly inside her and the feeling of the rough fabric of her husband's gloves against her own soft and wet insides made Y/n see stars and sigh in contentment with the double stimulation. As Aemond fucked her with his fingers he found that spongy spot that took her body out of orbit, and when she moaned uncontrollably he smiled even more mischievously against her neck, leaving kisses and bites there, pinching her nipples even more.

-So good husband. - Y/n sighed, leaning on his shoulder.

-You don't know how much I want to fuck you right now. -He murmured, biting her ear and sucking it while he nuzzled his nose in her hair.

Aemond penetrated her third finger making her whimper, but unlike before where he caressed her gently, he now started to get into a rougher rhythm, still slow but with force. And Y/n in turn just clung to his arms as she threw herself back, leaning against her husband's clothed chest, and moving her hips in search of more friction.

-So desperate my wife, throwing herself against my fingers like a beautiful filthy whore. -He brushed away a few strands of hair that had fallen across her face when he said that, so that Y/n could see herself better in the mirror, and the sight of her made her moan even louder.

His gloved fingers moving in and out of her cunt, his palm firmly massaging her mound, the fabric of the gloves slightly moistened and a white ring forming at the base of the fingers contrasting strongly with the dark color they possessed. The contractions of pleasure of her cunt crushing Aemond's skilled fingers as he smiled and bit her neck working even harder to coax pleasure out of her, he loved the feeling of her silky walls squeezing around him.

The way he curled his fingers and then moved them in and out made every nerve ending in Y/n burn. The roughness of the fabric was driving her crazy and she wanted so much more, she wanted to be set on fire.

-Husband. - She moaned, arching her back and pressing herself even more against him while turning her neck slightly to face him, taking one of her hands to his hair and removing the eye patch in the process. - I'm so close… so close. Please.

-I like it as much as you implore my dear. - He guided his other hand to her chin and squeezed it tightly, forcing her to keep her eyes exclusively on the mirror's reflection, the rough fabric of the glove making her gasp, while the sight of Aemond's now uncovered sapphire eye made her moan. - But I want you to keep your hungry little eyes on your pussy.

-See how wet she is for me, how well she takes my fingers, you are dripping my dear wife. - The movements became faster and stronger and Y/n felt some tears run down her cheeks as she moaned uncontrollably at the sight of Aemond's gloved fingers buried so deeply in her soaked cunt.

And when he accelerated the movements of both his fingers inside Y/n and his palm against her sensitive pearl, Y/n cried and screamed as she came against his hand, shuddering with pleasure.

Aemond was lost at that scene. He couldn't take his eyes off his wife's cunt writhing against his fingers as her juices oozed out between his fingers. Her face full of pleasure as she screamed and begged for his name was another thing that could easily kill him in that instant, he would certainly die happy with that scene.

-Look at the mess you make, my dear. - He said after removing his fingers from her trembling cunt. - Clean up for me like the good wife I know you are.

Aemond guided his hand to Y/n's lips and she lazily sucked on his gloved fingers. The taste of the fabric mixed with her own taste further numbing her mind, still clouded by the orgasm.

And Aemond could no longer contain himself when he saw that expression of contentment on her face as she sucked on his gloved fingers. And he quickly took her off his lap and bent her over the carpet, still facing the mirror, making her gasp from the abrupt movement.

Y/n had barely balanced herself and Aemond had already undid the laces of his own pants and guided his cock to her sensitive pussy. They both moaned senselessly as soon as he penetrated her completely. And he quickly brought his hands to the top of her dress, dragging it down and leaving her breasts completely free for him to massage and squeeze as he pleased.

He fucked her so well, and Y/n lost her breath with each firm thrust from Aemond and panted with pleasure as she whimpered for more with tears in her eyes.

She raised her head, looking towards the mirror again, and the sight of his hand massaging her hips and squeezing her nipples as he fucked her while still wearing those damned riding gloves made her eyes roll with pleasure, and she begged for him with Even more willing looking into his eyes and sighing when finding that blue glow that she had learned to love so much.

-I love that look you have when I'm inside you. - He groaned, rolling his eye with pleasure as he fucked her, and Y/n lowered her face once again. Aemond then guided his hand to her chin, forcing her to look at the mirror again, he wouldn't miss a second of that passionate look that his wife directed just at him and that made Aemond's heart race.

-No my dear, you keep those shining eyes on me while I fuck you like you deserve. - And removing his hand from her chin, Aemond went up to her hair and pulled it back, holding her firmly and keeping her gaze fixed on the mirror.

-Aemond, please. - She whimpered, enchanting him with those eyes that made him lose his head, and once again he guided the tips of his gloved fingers to the top of her thighs and caressed her forcefully, making his wife gasp and moan as she collapsed in front of him, who held her. by her hips as he fucked her with abandon looking for his own climax, which didn't take long to come when he came deep inside her.

The two remained motionless, their bodies pressed together and their breaths labored. Y/n brought her own bare hand to her husband's gloved hand and caressed it with gentle circles still completely lost in fleeting pleasure.

-You look even more beautiful when you're cumming all over my cock. - He murmured, still lost in pleasure against her hair, making his wife smile.

Y/n in turn, faced the mirror and sighed with contentment when she saw their reflection. Aemond behind her still panting with his usually stoic face relaxed in pleasure as he held her against him still holding her thighs firmly to keep her in contact with him as she squeezed lightly every now and then.

-Love you. - She said tiredly, still with her head lying on his shoulder, looking at him through the mirror.

Aemond didn't respond with words, he just mumbled like he always did. But Y/n no longer needed words, she had learned to distinguish every look, every touch and every sigh of her husband to know that he was also in love, especially when he pulled her even closer and left a soft kiss on her neck .

Tag list: @slut-for-m3 @fallout-girl219

2K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 5 months ago

Text

Ferrari At Heart » Charles LeClerc

summary: as your interest in f1 grows, so does your interest in a certain ferrari driver

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by redbullracing, schecoperez and 528,392 others

ynusername: excited to experience my first grand prix this weekend, and luckily for you guys I get to bring you with me for it all. thank you red bull for inviting me out 💙

tagged: redbullracing

48,221 comments

redbullracing: you’re more than welcome back at the paddock anytime you like

username1: pls tell me we’re getting a vlog out of this

username2: praying for a max cameo

landonorris: it was good to meet you y/n, even if it was only in passing

ynusername: @/landonorris if I come again I’ll make sure we have a proper introduction

username3: imagine all the chaos of y/n x f1 drivers 🤯

maxverstappen1: thank you for being a great guest, I’m sure we could definitely arrange another trip out for you soon!!

username4: max and y/n already seem like the best of friends omg

schecoperez: loved having you root for us this weekend y/n, hopefully you’ll be cheering for red bull in the future too!

username5: y/n must’ve been good company for grandad sergio to comment 😂

username6: I’ve not even seen the footage but I just know I want y/n at every f1 race for the rest of time

ynusername: thank you for an awesome couple of days, I’m editing all my content with a huge smile on my face 💙

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername remember who your favourite driver is and to edit him handsomely

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 ofc…just for you!

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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 723,100 others

ynusername: new vlog is on its way, I take a tour of the paddock, spend the day in blue and see what happened when charles and max joined me for a game which left them not speaking to each other for the rest of the day

tagged: maxverstappen1 and charles_leclerc

83,291 comments

username7: how do two grown men fall out over rock paper scissors 🤦🏻‍♀️

username8: petition for y/n to just be hired by f1 - funniest video ever!!

maxverstappen1: thank you for showing people I have the ability to smile 😂

maxverstappen1: ps I’m still not over you cheating so that charles could win #favouritism

charles_leclerc: maybe y/n is secretly just a ferrari girl at heart 🤔

username9: two of my fave drivers and fave vlogger in one video…have I died and gone to heaven?

charles_leclerc: I had such a good time with you, just let me know one day if you fancy another cameo from the most handsome f1 driver to ever exist 🥰

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc if I do, I’ll be sure to give carlos a call!

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername RUDE

username10: not y/n already savaging charles

username11: I never want this weekend of content to end

danielricciardo: if you come back again, I call dibs on being the first for editing lessons from you

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liked by carlossainz55, ynusername and 1,319,503 others

charles_leclerc: the perfect ending to a great week here in Baku, thank you for all the support this week ❤️🏁🏆

193,492 comments

username12: welcome back to where you belong king!!

scuderiaferrari: an amazing week charles, congratulations from the whole team ❤️

ynusername: it was awesome to see you top of the podium at my first race…enjoy your celebrations this evening 👏🏻

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername there’s still time for you to come join us…

username13: charles flirting with y/n was not what I had on my bingo card for 2024

username14: charles sliding right in and stealing y/n from red bull

carlossainz55: solid drive charlie! p1 and p2 🎉

username15: someone figure out the lucky charm that won charles the race this week!!

username16: @/username15 isn’t it obvious???

landonorris: thank you for sending all that love to me mon cherie

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris isn’t it past your bedtime? 🙄

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by danielricciardo, oscarpiastri and 528,302 others

ynusername: I had so much fun the first time I just had to come for round two, shoutout to charles for giving me the ticket 🥺

62,338 comments

charles_leclerc: happy to have been able to help you out…look forward to seeing me win again this week 😉

username17: anyone else think there’s definitely something strange going on here…

maxverstappen1: can’t believe you’ve betrayed me like this y/n 💙

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 I told you she was ferrari at heart ❤️

username18: how is y/n so calm when she has THE charles leclerc practically wrapped around her finger

carlossainz55: it’s only been a week and we missed you, love the most handsome face in f1 😂😚

username19: pls lord let there be another vlog from this weekend

oscarpiastri: mclaren next week?? 🧡

georgerussell63: come and see me this weekend…my girlfriend is desperate to meet you 🙏🏻

carmenmmundt: @/georgerussell63 why you exposing me like this??

ynusername: @/carmenmmundt I promise I’m all yours when I find you 💕🩷

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55 and 829,004 others

ynusername: another f1 video is on its way featuring my two new favourite people, so glad to call you both friends. i think you’ll be seeing a lot more of me and f1 soon 🤫🤐

42,391 comments

username20: peep the f1 mic 👀

username21: my heart won’t take it if y/n is working for f1 now too

charles_leclerc: I could definitely get used to seeing a lot more of you around ☺️

carlossainz55: hands down the best video I’ve ever been a part of 😂

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 thank you for being such a great sport and taking part with my crazy ideas 🫶🏻

username22: no one can convince me that charles doesn’t fancy y/n now

username23: “call you both friends” um no y/n this is not how this works

pierregasly: major fomo watching you all have this much fun!

ynusername: @/pierregasly you and estie next week??

pierregasly: @/ynusername YES YES YES

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 829,400 others

ynusername: another race week = another week of annoying these two and playing guess the ferrari as the cars go round too fast 😂🏎️

53,922 comments

username24: thank you ferrari for having y/n back 🙏🏻

charles_leclerc: you know which car mine is right?

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc if I say yes will you believe me??

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername no 😂 I’ll just have to make sure that I stand out from the crowd next time

username25: bit sus for y/n to be with charles as soon as the race is over 🤔

username26: I refuse to believe that this is another just friends situation

carlossainz55: if you see two ferraris I’m usually the one in front 😉

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 don’t lie to y/n like that 🙄

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 you and I know the truth 😂

landonorris: come join mclaren we’re easy to spot 🧡

iamrebeccad: I’ve been doing this for nearly a year and lemme tell you y/n it doesn’t get easier

username27: rebecca implying that we’ll see more of y/n at races in the future 😩

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liked by username28, landonorris and 29,201 others

f1wags: our sources out on the streets of monaco have been sharing some interesting snaps of charles leclerc and y/n y/l/n before qualifying this weekend. y/n has regularly been seen in the ferrari garage the past few races, and whilst it’s been well publicised that the couple have struck up quite the friendship, could this be something a little bit more?

3,920 comments

username28: not lando in the likes 😂😂

username29: damn I knew it

username30: my heart is racing…pls someone say this is true

username31: the way he looks at her 🫠

username32: I love them so much already

username33: lando don’t just like, spill the tea if you’ve got it

username34: I’ve never shipped a couple harder in my life

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liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and 1,034,482 others

ynusername: p1 in monaco, exactly what you’ve dreamed of for so long! congratulations you beautiful human, I could not be prouder of you 🏆🏁❤️

tagged: charles_leclerc

89,207 comments

username35: this is it team…they’re finally confirmed 🎉

username36: I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW IT

maxverstappen1: I’ll secretly take all the credit for this and introducing the two of you 😇

username37: everyone say thank you to max for introducing my two loves

charles_leclerc: thank you for all your love and support, I couldn’t do it without you 🥰❤️

username38: I cannot wait to see the vlog of this one

username39: my life has officially peaked

carlossainz55: am I still the most handsome face in f1?? 😂

ynusername: @/carlossainz55 🤫🤫

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 1,490,284 others

charles_leclerc: the worst kept secret ever…from day one I always knew I was gonna get the girl 🥺💕

tagged: ynusername

78,848 comments

ynusername: you could’ve at least pretended not to be obsessed with me 😂😂

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername you shouldn’t have looked so gorgeous then I wouldn’t have had to

maxverstappen1: @/charles_leclerc 🤮🤮

charles_leclerc: @/maxverstappen1 you’re only jealous…I told you that y/n really was a ferrari girl at heart ❤️😂

——————

any replies, reposts or feedback are gratefully received

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

2K notes · View notes

ladyoftheblades · 4 months ago

Text

comfort

aegontargaryen x aemondswife!reader

synopsis: the war had caused a shift in aemond, brothel visits, questionable behaviour toward his family most of all his brother, and now news of his lover. his wife had had enough, turning her attention to a lover of her own,none other than the king

a/n: i really hate this but wanted to get it out of the way to focus on new things ��i finished this drunk off of cosmopolitans and crying my eyes out about my fate, so maybe aegons breakdown is a little ooc.hope you enjoy anyway. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE and im dyslexic.

warnings: smut, p in v, dacryphilia, mutual cheating, descriptions of wounds and scars(not too much tho)

it was a young and uneasy night, sunrays still gracing the sky, dousing kings landing in twilight. the princess sat at the library, the book in her hands long cast aside in favour of staring out of the window. it was a useless thing anyhow, having done little to ease her worries. today was the day she was excpecting news of her husband, aemond targaryen, to arrive from harrenhall.

she knew the rumors surrounding the castle, it was a cursed place, full of mysteries and withcraft. it was especially dangerous for targaryens, since the time of the conquest when aegon burned it down.

aemond had gone to claim it in his brothers name. but the hour ran late yet the messenger had not come. she sat and stared, all of the worst scenarios playing in her head, turning and swirling her thoughts, sending waves of nausea to her stomach.

truth be told, her husband had displayed some very unusual behaviour of late. since the murder of luke by aemonds own hand, he had taken to visiting a brothel in the city. her immediate reaction was one of anger but once her confidants informed her he was visiting the same madam, a woman named silvy, the one who lay with him for the fist time when he was but a child of three and ten, she understood. his actions were not born of lust but of trauma. he had always treated her with respect and love, so in spite of her initial anger she found it in her heart to forgive him, to overlook his slight.

but his strange behaviour had not ended there. the war was taking a toll on him, she could tell. he always had a violent streak, yet he held great mastery over it, always calm and collected, only rarely losing control. the war brought out those tendansies, warping him into a beast of unquenched anger. after the battle of rooks rest, due to his brothers injuries he had been named prince regent which only expedited the change in him.

the battle of rooks rest was the oddest of the ocuurances. princess rhaenys had passed, killed by the joined efforts of aemond and aegon, the king and his dragon sustained grave injuries, incapacitating them fully, yet aemond and vaghar came out of it almost completely unscathed. the lady attempted to coax her husband into talking about the battle, yet every mention of it caused him to break out in a fit of anger or storm out of the room immedietly.

not one soul but aemond could give a complete account of the events, for the king refused to speak with anyone, stating he needed rest. but the account aemond gave was....lackluster. something was off, piesces loose on the tapestry he had paited of the events. if one could poke at it it was sure to come undone, yet the regent allowed none of it. the small council could raise little question, he was -for all intents and purposes- their soveirgn after all.

time went on, the sun hiding behind the western sea, taking all semblances of light with it, the sky now completely black. quite an unpleasant sight. a knock sounded at the door, the princesses heart began to race with unparalleled anxiety "enter, please" she shouted.

she had excpected an envoy from harenhall, one appointed by her, yet none came, in stepped the master of whisperers, lord larys strong. "my lady" he greeted, giving his best bow. "lord larys. i excpected an envoy from harenhall, have you come in his stead ?"

"yes, my lady" he walked further into the room, slowly reaching her spot by the window, taking a seat with great effort. "i must inform you, the nature of the information...is quite sensitive" her anxiety shot through the roof, chest thumping at a hundred kilometers an hour.

"has something happened to my husband ?" she said urgently. "do not fret my lady, the regent is in good health" the air shifted, her anxiety had calmed but something else, something more unsettling took over. what could possibly be of such sensitive nature ?

"go on" she said. "my informats have made me aware of the princes recent behaviours, since taking control of the caste, maybe even pre-"

"oh quit your theatrics and spit it out" her tone was now damn near yelling. the man infrotny of her was stalling, but games of court had no place in the concerns of a wife at alarm. larys took a deap breath "your husband has taken a lover, her name is alys rivers. i am told she works as a milkmaid in the castle, though rumors have it she is a witch"

her heart almost stopped. a lover ? she could excuse silvy, they shared a certain history. a lover ? a paramour ? one that was unpaid, and there to whisper in his ears the gods only know what ? too far. she stood up suddently and began to pace back and forth infron of the window. she continued that way quite a while, not uttering a single word, only flailing her hands in erratic movements, trying to wrap her head around the information, attempting to make sense of the storm of information now revealed to her. larys remained calm. his composure was almost...unnerving.

eventually he attempted to pull her out of her trance "i understand this must come as quite a shock, shall i call for a maester my lady ?" she halted her movements immedietly, regaining contact with reality, yet ever in internal disarray. "no, that is quite alright my lord. who else knows of this ?"

"no one, of yet. i came to inform you first, though i doubt it will remain private for much longer" she looked to larys, a knowing look in his mischievous eyes. information was his trade, and he had provided elite services, a reward was in order. "i thank you for your service lord larys, you may take your leave, your loyalty will not be forgotten, i assure you" with that he was satisfied, giving a final bow, he exited.

with the bang of the door agains its frame announcing larys exit, the emotions hit her all the same. what was she to do ? this was not her husband. war changed the souls of men, bringing forth the worst of their humanity. the brothels she could forgive, the anger excuse, hells she could even overlook the lover, but all three combined ? an insult. a hurtfull, heartbreaking insult, one that could not go unaccouted for.

she had yet to bear aemond any children, if this whore were to come with child, if she was to have a son, it would put her position in danger. semblances of solutions to mend the problem, to find her an explaination at the lest, flew around in her mind, yet she was far too disturbed to give any of them proper consideration. still in that strange trance of betrayal, she began to walk.

her feet acted on their own, unattatche dand seemingly unaffected by the storm that was her mind. they took her out of the library, tracing a path around the red keep. she walked and walked and the more she walked the more she thought and the more she thought the clearer her head became.

power was getting to aemonds head but he was not the ultimate authority, the king was. the root of her husbands behaviour was the death, or rather the murder, of lucerys but rooks rest was the turning point. if he would not provide an explaination, his brother would.

she had shared few words with her brother in law, far and inbetween, aemond always coming inbetween them to root out whatever semblance of a relationship they began to create before it could sprout. but he was pleasant, a little inappropriate in his jests and brash to a fault. he spoke his mind, did as he pleased, with no mind for consequences. the only thing that kept him alive quite frankly, was his position as the fist son, now king. all those qualities, once considered faults, now sounded refreshing. a stark contrast to the lies and masked intentions of others.

the king had locked himself away from the world following the battle of rooks rest. she had heard the whispers of his state, his appearance made up to be groutesque and unnerving. "unlike anything come of our realm" she had overheard one maidservant say.

she traced a path to the kings chambers. security was never strong in the keep anyway and she had memorised the schedule of the changing guard. she reached the hallway of his chambers just as the guards were tuning the other end.

she hadnt much time, begining to advance when suddently three maids exited the chambers in coplete dissaray, clothes soaked and the king audibly yelling from inside the rooms. they began to run in the opposite direction, their voices somewhere between whispers and shrieks, full of terror. something was amiss with the king, even mose so than usual. no matter, she could use the opportunity.

slowly she walked to the rooms, quietly slipping through the door.

"I SAID LEAVE" shouted aegon imedietly upon sensing her presance. the sight infront of her was truly something... the king lay in his tub, his back to her, watter spilled all around, no doubt by whatever had transipired beforehand. his body had been badly burned, maelys managed to damage his body so much, armour melted into his skin. even with his back to her, tub obscuring his visage, the damage to his shoulder and neck was visible.

she took a step forth "im sorry to disturb your grace though i believe you never asked me to exit". upon hearing her voice aegon made an attempt to crane his neck and look at her, the tension to his burns making him wince in pain, immedietly turning back around.

"please, your grace, do not exert yourself" she said, tentatively approaching. she soon reached him, finally able to look at him whole. the water obscured his visage from the waist down but the sight of his face and chest made her heart swell with hurt. the burns consumed the entire left side of his chest, expanding to his neck, fully engulfing the side of his face, even parts of his nose.

thought what struck her most was not his gruesome burns, he was far from such. in spite of the burns his face held a certain beauty, even on the scarred side.

he moved, ignoring the pain, turning away from her quizical gaze. "please, leave, just leave..." none of the previous anger was present, voice laced with only sadness and embarassment. he was voulnerable, oh so voulnerable, exposed, completely at the mercy of the world and his surroundings. she took the kings aversion as a challenge. "oh your grace, please, allow me"

she fell to her knees, the fabric of her dress becoming wet at contact with the floor. "i have no need of your pity" he muttered, face still turned. "i do not pity you, your grace, the scars of war are to be worn as a badge of honor, as proof of your bravery"

she could not see his face still but something told her he did not share that same oppinion. his burns had healed in their majority, forming an angry red scar. some areas remained sensitive, mostly underneath his arm, must be the parts where metal melted into him, she thought. she looked to the desk behind her, an assortment of ointments placed atop.

she looked to the labels on them, spotting one which wrote "after bath". she took it and oppened the top, the smell surprisingly pleasant. "did the maesters instruct a certain ammount be used ?" aegon shook his head no. he was still somewhat uneasy, yet did not deny the assistance.

she put some on her hands and began to apply it to his torso. it must have worked instantaniously for the king eased, becoming accostumed to her presance, and moved his head to finally look at her. she did not return his gaze however, only continuing her movements.

he studied her hands with searing intensity, periodicaly giving satisfied hums. they kept like that a while, the king growing more and more comfortable as time went on. untill she reached his face.

by now it was near impossible not to look at him, yet she resisted. she completed his cheek, and moved to the area around his eye. before she could contunue though, he raised his good hand from the water and grabed hers. his fingers wrapped around her wrist threatening to leave a bruise. she paused, ever so cautious. "y-your grace, i cannot continue if-"

"Look at me." he comanded. she complied, finally looking in his eyes. they were absolutely beautifull, grayish blue hues morroring those of the sea on a moody day, color only accentuated by the candelight. they hid something, something intense yet he dared not reveal it to her, as if her learning of it would embarass him.

"what do you see when you look at me ?" he asked. she was somewhat taken aback by such a question, still she made no attempt to back away, in too deep already. whatever the king wanted she had to comply with. she took a moment to think, knowing the wrong answer might cost her her life. " a boy"

"is that how you see your king truly ? as a boy ?"

"my king is a fierce and brave warrior forged by fire and blood, the one infront of me named aegon targaryen is a boy"

his face began to change, the walls built around his soul slowly coming down, eyes verging on betraying their secret. he removed his hand from her wrist, allowing her to contunie apllying the ointment. she brought her hand forth to his eye, the king leaving a sigh of relief, tilting his head back. she turned around to place the jar to its place, by the time she turned to aegon once again he was looking right at her, head tilted back, eyes dark and playfull. if she looked closely she could even see a smile playing at his lips.

"comfortable, your grace ?" she said, attempting to match his playfulness. he gave a chuckle "very. you my lady ?"

"very" she mirrored his reply. she closed the distance between them, now putting her hand on the good side of his chest, begining to rub soothing circles on his alabaster skin. he enjoyed the contact, she could tell, the smile on his lips turning from one of mischief to one of satisfaction. she knew she could not keep it up for long, her visit was now devoid of purpose, she would have to come up with soemthing quick-

"i never did ask, why are you here ?" he broke her train of thought. she stopped the movement of her hand, moving it instead to play with his hair.

"i have been discarded by my husband im afraid and ... i understood you to be in a similar position. i thought... i thought maybe we could be alone together" she looked straight to his eyes as she uttered that, finalising her last word with an afectionate tuck of his hair beneath his ear. she waited, frozen, afraid of having said the wrong thing, the one that would set him off. yet as time passed, tortourously, kicking her gut harder and harder as it went on, his demeanor went unchanged.

"at first you think me a boy, and now discarded. i ought to have your tongue for that" he moved his hand, the scarred one, to cradle her chin as he delivered his words. yet his toutch was neither threatening, nor malicious. no, he was playing, he wanted a game but more than that.... he was looking for something in her. comfort she had provided already, trust, perhaps ?

she made no attempt to remove her face from his hand, the contact sending shocks through her body... it had been a while since her and her husband had been intimate... the sole attention of the king was something else entirely. "are you not, then ? discarded ? are you not lonely ?"

the game was on. he seized her up, looking to find what he wanted, she spoke again "if you have no need of company, should i take my leave ?" immedietly his fingers dug into her skin "i said no such thing" she gave a smile of satisfaction.

"you admit it then, you are lonely, just as i" her voice was laced with nothing but warmth, coaxing out of aegon his true nature, breaking down any remainants of walls around his heart. "just as you" he spoke, voice but a whisper, a glint of recognition in his eyes.

"we are one in the same. i see you as you are" her words rang true, they were one in the same, cast aside, stripped of their agency, starved of affection, all due to aemond. a wave of boldness washed over her. she moved closer to aegon, head resting on his shoulder, cautious not to disturb any parts not yet healed.

"why did you so rudely dismiss your maids ?" he took in a sharp breath "they thought of me as a beast. i saw it in their eyes, the disgust. besides, they knew not what they were doing, before they even began i could smell the incompetence. i could not allow they stay"

"then why allow me ?" she said, craning her head, looking now to his eyes. "i can trust you. as you said... you see me." she gave a small smile. he drank up the encouragement like a man starved.

"we may help eachother then. i see something troubles you, tell me my king, how may i be of assistance ?"

"my troubles are no secret, these scars trouble me, my face, my... my incapacitation." "oh aegon" she uttered quickly, moving from her spot on the floor, still on her knees, standing behind her king now, hands snaking around his shoulders unashamedly. her head went to his good side, chin toutching shoulder. "aemond may be regent but you... you remain king. ofcourse you are capable, you may rule from your own bed if you wish, council be damned."

a sob rattled his body. she pressed her arms further into him, attempting to stiffle his sadness for every tear of his shook her to her core. something about this man, with all the power of the realm at his fingertips being so voulnerable, putting his heart in her hands and trusting her to protect it, something aemond had not once done, it made her wish to hold onto him and never let go.

he began to weep openly, hiding his face in the crook of her arms. everyone looked at him and saw only what they wanted, be it a king, a rake, an incompetent fool... no one saw him for him, not even his own mother could recognise the pain festering in his body, the unfairness of the situation she put him in. he was given all the power in the realm with no say of his own fate. destined to live a life soely for the sake of others, faithfully serving the realm, his family, his mother, his counsil, never making a choice for his own. and then he was punished for it, punished for all he had no input in, by none other than his own brother, his own blood. ofcourse she knew naught of it, but the way she held him, so tight, so firm, as if she would take away all his pain and pour the love of the world on his skin the same way she had done that ointment, it only made him want to cry more, overwhelmed by the emotion.

she held him close and did not let go, not when the tears ran a salty stream on his face, not when the snot began to fill his nose,making his sobs sound all the more pathetic, not when his hands left bruising marks on her arms, possesively keeping them close, afraid they would be taken from him. she only endured, giving small tuts and shushes as well as little praises here and there.

eventually his sobs ceased, leving him sensitive, puffy faced and shuddering. she tennatively pulled her arms away, much to aegons disapointment, moving to the table once again,bringing a clean piece of cloth to his face. he took it greatfully and began to clean it somewhat.

"your grace ?"

"i just try so hard, all i do i do to please but-" tears threatened once again to spill from his pretty eyes, the princess would do anything to prevent such a thing.

"your grace, aegon, you neednt please anyone, you are far from perfect but you deserve to be treated well, to have your sacrifices recognised"

"they do not respect me"

"fuck them then. you are king, you may impose your authority over the council, you have a mind and a heart, and you can make as strategic a descision as any of them. i will be the fist to support you" his gaze fell to hers, blue eyes further acentuated by the redness brought about by his tears, mouth slightly open, heavy breaths escaping with great difficulty, his eyes from hers to her lips, to her eyes again. she moved her face forward, minimising the distance between them.

she thought of the correct words to say to comfort him, any plan of coaxing truth out of him long forgotten. she had come in with a plan, but his behaviour, his trust in her washed all of that away. she thought yet no words came to he

"aemond is a fool to hurt you"

"aemond is a fool to undermine you" his body reacted on its own, as if possesed by the emotions rooted in his chest so deep and so intense no logic could reach them, and so he kissed her.

his lips were so soft, having been spared, they moved on hers, full of raw intensity. practice attempted to prevail, aegons many conquests having taught him all he needed, yet could not, overrun by emotion. he had no control of his movements, kissing her now like a knight sworn to celibacy, unacustomed to the woea of women, wishing only to express his courtly love.

she pressed onto him harder, taking control of the kiss, hands falling to his face, one on his good side immedietly gripping his jaw, giving back the same desperation he had shown. immedietly upon the contact he oppened his mouth, leaving a whine and allowing her tongue acess. her other hand, ever so carefull not to hurt him, gently rested on his jaw, affraid of horting him.

he broke the kiss, speaking in between pants " my face is-is healed, do not hesitate just toutch me-" and so she did, ever so eager to please her king. the kiss deepened, all the sloppier, all the more desperate, all the more emotional, untill it was not enough to express their devotion.

"are-uh- are other... areas..healed, of yet ?" his face franticaly moving up and down, "yes, all the areas-" he chuckled, a hearty chuckle, such a lovely sound "all the areas of interest are healed, please "

she understood. she rose to her feet and began undoing her gown. aegon watched from his seat, staring patiently, adoration filling his beautifull ocean eyes. it took her a bit to undo the back laces of the dress, she hastily tore it from her body, heavy fabric immedietly falling to the floor, leaving her in only her small clothes, a sheer gown, off white in color, devoid of embelishments, but softly draping over her form.

her body was a painting, brought before aegon to feast his eyes upon. his patience was wearing thin. he moved his hand to toutch her, blocked by her stepping back "please, my king, allow me" he gave a small pout, obeying none the less.

she spared no time in giving him what he wanted, fulfilling finally their shared wish. one leg at a time, she entered the still-somehwat-warm water but faltered, hesitating to put her weight on him,ever so afraid of causing aegon pain.

he sensed her hesitation "its ok, just toutch me, please" desperation filled his body, threatening to chocke him, laced in every word from his lips.

she brought their faces together again, his mouth spilling desperation into hers with every kiss. her hands became unafraid, egged on by aegons words, resting on his chest, one of them reaching further and further down, tracing featherlike lines with her fingers, untill they reached where she wanted. she took aegons cock in one hand, halfhard already, leading him to release a pleading whimper. "good boy" she uttered.

caution thrown to the wind, the praise getting to his head, aegon moaned oppenly. as she began to stroke him, his moans got more and more desperate, each movement of her wrist sending waves of pleasure to his body. much like her he had been starved of affection, all sort of affection, he was desperate to take whatever she was willing to give. "oh gods-"

she shushed him by graciously placing her lips on his, resuming their previous kisses. but it was nowhere near enough for aegon. his hands found purchase on her gown, bunching up the fabric, tugging desperatly. he wanted, nay needed more. he began to tug the gown upwards, a pleading movement, asking of her to be as voulnerable as himself. she was oh so ready to provide.

she took his hands into hers, guiding them to take the gown off, finally it went up, revealng her stomach and breasts to him. immedietly he moved, taking her form into his arms, placing kisses on her colarbone, wasting no time to go lower and lower, reaching her breasts. he took a nipple in his mouth suching in tandem with her thrusts. the princess threw her head back, moaning with her full chest, uncaring of the world around them.

her hand never faltered, his cock began to twitch with his impending release. he detatched from her body, panting like a dog on a dry day, each inhale sending waves of equal parts oxygen and lust in his brain, making his vision hazy. he was not ready to give her up yet.

"p-please, please, im close"

she halted her movements. aegons disapointment traced a path from his abdomen all the way to his throat, releasing a pained whine. his hands moved on her back, clutching her sides for support, the pleasure so rudely torn from him and the previous exhaustion, leaving him stranded in the storm that is the haze in his mind.

"why my darling ? did, did i do something ?" it came out almost more as a cry than a question. "no, aegon, ofcourse not, youre perfect"

his chest fell in relief, lips immedietly finding hers, a kiss of graditude. a kiss of praise. "but im not done with you quite yet. i only wish to please my king after all"

her hand moved to his cock again, she pulled her hips down simultaniously, guiding it to her entrance. his tip barely teased her entrance and he was already a goner. he thrust his hips upwards, chasing the contact he craved so much. "patience, your grace"

she moved his tip forth, coming into contact with her pearl, sending jolts of pleasure to both of them. aegon was on the verge of becoming undone, barely clinging onto his sanity. she gave him a tutt, looking down onto her voulnerable king, his eyes already on hers, looking through his lashes, void of inhibitions and filled with unimaginable lust.

"please" he whispered, begging, such a man brought down by one woman, broken down onto the barest pesces of his soul by the world, pu to gether again by her toutch. "yes, your grace"

finally, finally, she brought her hips down. his cock entered inch by excruciating inch, untill finally she settled, having taken him whole. she resisted moving though, taking strands of silver hair on the nape of his neck, tugging his head to her chest, burrying it between her breasts. his desperatuon had reached a tipping point, this simple act sending him over the edge, sobs wreacking his body once again.

"ooh, my boy, did i pain you ?"

"it just, it feels good. youre so good to me" he muttered, head still buried in her chest and burrowing further, leaving sloppy kisses on her flesh and sucking marks surely with the intent to leave a reminder of him. "aww my darling, do not fret, i will take care of you, just you wait"

she gave his head little reassuring scratches, attempting to ground him somewhat, preparing the boy under her for what was to come. cautiously she began to move her hips. the sobs wrecking her own body just as much as his, only giving her more courage.

the water of the tub began to sway, more and more and more, she picked up her pace, moving her hands through his back, tracing the rough parts of his scars, the sensitivity of those areas adding to his pleasure. her pace picked up further, frantic hip movements rocking the entirety of the tub, the furniture begining to scratch against the floor.

aegon could take it no longer, amidst sobs and moans he began to move is own hips, matching the pace of the princess. his movements executed with no semblance of grace nor purpose, only focused on his own pleasure, seeking retribution for his lost orgasm.

the tub rocked, water splashing all around, aegons sobs turned to little whimpers, salty tears mixing with his spit on his ongoing assault to her chest. her movements began to falter, close to finishing, the white-hot pleasure in her abdomen threatening to burst. her body began to tremble lightly, yet she kept her composure, still in servitude of her king. he was in no better state, cock begining to twitch once again.

he was so so close, and not about to stand for this one to be taken away from him aswell. she took notice of the familiar signs he displayed "im close, aegon, so close"

he took this as a sign to let go, holding her body down with all the strength he could muster, forcefully, halting her movements, selfish for once, taking what he wanted. her orgasm hit her with that final forcefull push on his cock, pleasure exploding from her abdomen, rocking her body while from toes to fingers, face twisting in an expression of absolute extasy, brows knitted together and mouth slightly agape. aegon peeked from her chest, looking up to her face, illuminated by the candles, light softly cradling her features, exposing to his hungry eyes her beautifull expression, the mutters from his mouth a prayer to her beauty.

his own orgasm took over his body, sending a final sob through his mouth, a final wave of tears to his eyes, hot seed spilling inside of her.

they stayed that way a while, her hands cradling his head, his own softening on her hips, softly massaging them, attoning for the shelfish way he had taken his pleasure.

she craned her head down, giving a final kiss to his lips, soft and innocent, unlike any previously shared. he looked so utterly mesmerised by her, though he would not say it, she knew, the same as he did, she kew this meant so much to him. they remained that way, sitting in their understanding, she would do anything for her king and he anything for his lover.

she had come in search of answers to her husbands behaviour yet was left with something different, better. she had gained an ally, more than, she had gained her first genuine friend, her very own lover.

#hotd #house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd s2 #team green

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number1mingyustan · 7 months ago

Text

Up To You ☾

boyfriend!wonwoo x virgin!fem!reader

Warnings: established relationship, explicit smut, kissing, cursing, fingering (f.), oral (m.), brief handjob, cum swallowing, mild praise kink, mentions of virginity loss, this is so dirty yet so cute, oc is confused and horny

Summary: up to you - nct dream & prettymuch

Word Count: 3k

_______________________________________________

(a/n: he’s so bf i can’t)

"Stop it!" You scream, giggling out loud as your eyes remain fixated on the colorful screen in front of you.

"I'm not doing anything baby," Wonwoo smirks.

You huff out in frustration as you hold the Wii remote in your hand. Your boyfriend has hit you with another banana peel in Mario Kart and is nearing the finish line of the third and final lap.

You're no longer trailing right behind him, and two cars has already sped past you. You start driving again, rushing toward the nearest mystery box. It spins before giving you a King Speed. You spam the button, passing the two characters that sped in front of you. You're quick, but not quick enough to pass Wonwoo, who has already zipped past the finish line before you.

Your body slumps into the couch with exhaustion. He's just too good.

"One more game," You demand.

Wonwoo lets out a chuckle. "You said that two games ago."

"I mean it, one more game and I'm gonna win. One more."

Wonwoo shrugs, refusing to wipe the smirk off his face before selecting 'New Game' on the screen. He leans back against the couch and reselects his favorite character, Toad. You choose Toadette and a pink motorcycle. Your glider and wheels match in the same bright shade of pink. He even lets you choose the map just to "give you an advantage."

The screen counts down from three and both your characters start racing across the screen, leaving behind all the NPCs as you focus on the race between the two of you.

As expected, you're no match for him the second his character touches his first mystery box. With each passing lap, the distance between your characters on the mini-map grows further.

You throw out red shells, skillfully aiming the green ones, and the person in ninth place even throws a blue shell at some point during the race. But he holds his spot in first place nonetheless.

As expected, he wins, ranking himself first and you second. He leans back into the couch with the same stupid smirk plastered on his face.

"You cheated!" You exclaim, hitting him playfully.

"This isn't even the kind of game you can cheat in baby, either you got it or you don't.

"Not fair," You mumble, childishly dropping the controller onto the couch.

"Aw don't be a sore loser," He grins. "You almost beat me a few games ago."

You ignore him, pouting harder and crossing your arms.

He leans over, holding you by the sides and begins tickling you. You can't help but react, squirming in his arms and laughing. "Stop!"

He doesn't let up and you continue squirming in his arms. You climb on top of him, pinning him down and interlocking your fingers with his. "You've made your point," You say breathlessly.

"Sure you're not mad at me anymore?" He grins, pushing his hands against yours lightly.

You chew the inside of your lip, eyes looking up and to the side as you contemplate. "Mostly."

His hands unlock from yours and rub up and down your sides lightly. He tilts his head up, allowing his soft lips to meet yours. The kiss is slow and sensual, reflective of the intimate position the two of you are currently in. He can feel himself growing hard beneath the fabric of his sweatpants in the intimate position. "Want me to make it up to you?"

Your lips curve up at the sound of his words. "Only if you do what I say.

He sits up, holding you securely on his lap.

"What is it that you want baby? Tell me," He whispers against the shell of your ear.

It's a bold question, not that you mind it. But it's still pretty early in your relationship and you and Wonwoo are still taking things fairly slowly. It's been a few months, but you haven't had sex yet.

You've gone further than kissing a few times, but things have remained relatively innocent between the two of you. Touching beneath the belt wasn't off the table, but it certainly was a new thing in your relationship and it didn't happen often. He's usually more hesitant about being suggestive around you since you're still a virgin and he doesn't want to rush anything.

Nonetheless, your body goes warm at his suggestive tone. You feel yourself throb and shift yourself on his lap. The little bit of friction causes a soft moan to slip from your lips.

"I want you to make me cum," You whine. Your voice is quiet but filled with desperation.

He's holding himself together, but his head is spinning. His heart starts beating faster as anticipation runs through his veins. There's a small wet patch forming on your panties and he can feel it pressed against his hard cock.

"You want my fingers?" Wonwoo asks.

You nod in response to his question eagerly. His cock twitches beneath you knowing that you want him, need him. You look up at him with round eyes. They're so innocent yet filled with lust and desperation.

His thoughts are flooded with you. You're always on his mind, to tell the truth. But you're clouding his mind even more and making his head spin. You have such a strong effect on him.

He lifts your hips up, pulling your white cotton panties off and tossing them onto the living room floor. You bring your bare crotch back down onto his lap, one of his oversized jerseys covering your body

Silently, you guide his hand into your mouth, sucking on his fingers and making them wet. His breath catches in his throat as you suck on his fingers.

He turns you around on his lap, pressing your back onto his chest. He holds you still with one of his arms wrapped around your frame.

He wastes no time plunging his soaked fingers into you. His digits slip into your folds easily, curving up deep into you. Your back leans further into his chest. His broad frame supports you from behind and his cock twitches in the fabric of his sweatpants.

"Ah fuck–" You gasp, moaning out.

Your back arches as his fingers stretch your cunt.

"Motherfucker–" He groans lowly.

He withdraws his fingers slowly from your folds. You whine and shift uncomfortably in his lap. You can't see, but his brings his fingers to his lips. He spits onto them, lubricating his fingers more. It drives you crazy. He really didn't need to, not with the way you're soaking his fingers and sweatpants already. But there's something so lewd, so filthy about it. It's turning you on so much.

A smack lands on your cunt as his damp fingers return to where you need him. You shift in his lap again, brushing against his hard cock. He slips his fingers back into your wet cunt, this time thrusting his fingers into you faster than before.

He's restless, curving his fingers perfectly and sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a squeal, resting your head back against his shoulder as your back arches.

You gasp for breath, moans getting caught in your throat as he fingers you. The squelch of your cunt fills the living room. It's filthy, and you fucking love it. Your eyes roll back and you cry out when his fingers press against your g-spot.

"You still with me gorgeous?" He asks.

"Hah– mhm," You nod.

Your body tenses in his lap as your hips roll into his fingers to their own rhythm. You struggle to control your body, overwhelmed with pleasure and rapidly chasing your approaching high.

He hums in satisfaction. "Gonna give you want you want now." He mumbles against the shell of your ear.

He doesn't need a response to know how badly you want this. His fingers pick up in pace, continuing to brush against the sweet spot inside of you.

A groan escapes his lips as you continue rolling your hips against his fingers desperately. He wants to ruin you, so badly. The sight of you in his lap right now is sending his mind racing. The thoughts clouding his mind alone could make him ruin his sweats untouched.

Your nails dig into the couch as you desperately squirm to find something to hold onto. Your eyes screw shut as you gasp for breath.

"Wonu–fuck–ah!" You groan. He places more pressure on your inner falls, wrist movements coming to a halt. He presses his fingers into your sweet spot, allowing you to continue fucking yourself on his fingers as your high has your head spinning.

You clench around his fingers tightly. You whine and cry out, vision going white as your pussy throbs around his fingers. You take a deep breath, exhaling shakily as you come down from your high.

He leans his head back against the couch and sighs. His adam's apple is prominent and he uses his middle and ring finger to push his glasses up on his nose.

You climb off his lap, face growing hot when you see the wet stain on his grey sweats. "Sorry," You apologize.

He looks down, eyes drifting to where yours seem to be focused on. He lets out a breathy chuckle. " 'S okay baby, I don't mind."

He leaves a playful smack on your butt as you walk away toward the bathroom. He adjusts himself in his sweatpants, thoughts of you still flooding his mind.

You enter the bathroom, closing it behind you. You clean yourself up, but the sight and feeling of his hard cock flood your thoughts. You'd be lying if you said he didn't satisfy you, but you're still undeniably horny. You splash your face with some cool water to distract your mind.

You make your way back to the living room, sitting next to him on the couch. He pulls you back onto his lap comfortably and changes the tv setting from the Wii to Disney +.

He scrolls mindlessly through the options. "You hungry? I was thinking we could order in."

You're having an even harder time focusing now. He's still sprouting a semi beneath you

"I wanna return the favor, Wonu," You blurt.

"I was thinking Thai–oh," Wonwoo clears his throat.

He shakes his head and presses a kiss on your cheek from behind. "It's okay baby, you don't have to worry about me."

"No I want to," You admit. "I'm still horny, and I wanna make you feel good too. Please?"

He's having an internal battle with himself. It feels like things are moving a little quickly, but who is he to deny you? Especially when you're in his lap practically begging him.

He licks his lips slowly, contemplating a response. Thoughts of you have been clouding his mind doing exactly this and he can't help but be selfish and indulge.

"Fuck... okay," He agrees.

You tug at his sweatpants excitedly. You lifts your hips, pulling his underwear and sweats down to his knees in one movement. You sit back down on his thighs, eyes fixated on his dick.

He's only sprouting a semi, not nearly as hard as when he was fingering you early. No biggie.

You tilt your head down, spit falling down onto his cock from your mouth. You start stroking him. He's big and heavy in your hand, it's a little intimidating at first.

But you adjust quickly, finding a steady rhythm. You feel him breathe out in relief at the feeling of your hand. You feel a newfound sense of confidence build inside of you.

Your hand runs along his length, feeling the thick veins on his cock. You can feel the way he grows in your hand, twitching as it rises to full length and hardness.

The tip is flushed pink and dribbles out precum. He lets out a soft curse.

You couldn't help but let your mind imagine how it would feel inside of you. You knew you weren't ready for it yet, but you couldn't help but imagine it. If it was anything like his fingers earlier, you could most certainly consider the possibility of taking your relationship to the next level.

Although, you know it'll hurt. Wonwoo is big, incomparable with his fingers. You know he'd take good care of you, do everything in his power to ease the pain and make you feel good.

His hips jerk when you swipe your thumb across the sensitive tip. He spurts more precum and groans at the sensation. You're practically drooling at the sight of him.

Wonwoo is never this reactive. He's always been more of the calm stoic type. But you're bringing out another side of him, and it's turning you on like crazy.

"Wanna suck it," You breathe out.

Wonwoo tilts his head back into the couch. His hand covers his face as he holds himself back. "Holy fuck..." He breathes out shakily.

You climb off his lap, dropping down to your knees.

"Take your time... Don't wanna hurt you–ah" He moans.

You open your mouth, wrapping your lips around his cock. You taste the precum on your tongue, swiping it across his sensitive tip. He holds himself back from thrusting his cock all the day down your throat. He grips the couch tightly, sinking deeper into the leather beneath him.

He's trying so hard to be a good guy and do the right thing. But fuck, you're making it so hard. He doesn't wanna give you more than you can handle, but the sight of you right now makes him want to ruin you.

Your hand doesn't leave his cock, continuing to stroke him as you take the tip into your mouth. You start off bobbing your head slowly, running your tongue along the bottom side of his length.

He groans, gathering your hair into a makeshift ponytail and helps to guide your head. You're careful not to let your teeth drag, focusing on making sure he feels good.

"Fuck, gorgeous," He groans. "What are you doing to me?"

His words shoot straight to your core. You press your thighs together and take his words as encouragement. You take more of his length down your throat, allowing his tip to touch the back of your throat.

"Holy shit–" He moans. "You're so good, fuck ah–"

He grips the leather of the couch harder, digging his nails into the material to restrain himself from fucking your throat. He gasps and moans, allowing a few curses to slip from his lips.

You continue stroking him, taking more of his into your mouth. You bob your head a little faster, saliva thoroughly coating his length. His tip continues to touch the back of your throat, causing you to gag and tear up.

You stop for a moment, coughing as you wipe your tears and catch your breathe.

"You good?" He asks.

You nod. "I'm good."

"Take your time baby," He coos. "Don't need to rush it."

You nod again before taking him back into your mouth.

You pace yourself, starting slow and progressively growing quicker and more confident with your moves. He guides you using the makeshift ponytail, making sure you don't get ahead of yourself again.

Your other hand cups his balls, making him let out a throaty groan. His cock twitches and throbs in your mouth and hand. "I'm close, baby" He warns you.

You remain steady in your movements, prioritizing his pleasure. His cock throbs once more before his body jerks. "Oh shit–"

He lifts your head off of his cock with your hair and grabs his cock with his other hand. He strokes himself to finish, shooting his load into your mouth. Even overwhelmed with pleasure, he doesn't spurt any of it onto your face.

He groans once more as he comes down from his high. He lets out a breath. "You can spit it, don't feel pressured to–"

Before he can finish his sentence, you swallow his load with ease. His cock twitches at the sight, but he prioritizes you. He dresses himself properly and lifts you back onto his lap. You face him, resting your head on his chest.

He holds you securely, rubbing his hands along your back softly.

"Was that okay?" He asks, continuing to draw circles on your back.

You nod. "Yeah, I'm okay."

He looks down at you, seeing you nibble on your bottom lip pensively.

"You sure?"

You nod hesitantly.

He can tell there's still something on your mind. You've just got that look on your face.

"What's bothering you?" He asks.

You shake your head, burying your head in his chest. He lifts your head, softening his tone with you. "Hey, talk to me."

You frown. "I don't know.... like I feel like I'm ready, but at the same time I'm not sure."

"To have sex?" He asks.

You nod. "I don't know if I'm just getting ahead of myself or if it's really what I want. I'm just a little scared, but I think I want to."

"I get it, but we won't do it unless you're 100% sure. I don't wanna jump into anything prematurely and have regrets. Doesn't matter how much you're on the fence, it won't happen unless you're in it 100%. You hear me?"

You nod. "Thank you Wonwoo, you're the best."

He kisses your cheek. "Just for you."

"I think I'm just overthinking it cuz I'm still horny," You confess.

He leans back into the couch and lets out a breathy chuckle. "Shit Y/n, you're insatiable."

You grin. "Just for you."

_______________________________________________

#kpop #seventeen smut #seventeen #seventeen fanfic #seventeen drabbles #seventeen angst #wonwoo smut #wonwoo fanfic #seventeen wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #wonwoo x reader

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lovebugism · 3 months ago

Text

✶ ┄ PAIR OF WINGS, GENTLY USED !

part one | part two

summary: following the aftermath of rook's rest, aemond struggles to convince you of his innocence while aegon struggles to stay alive. the three of you come to the striking realization that love is not always soft – sometimes it feels like dragonfire. (12k)

pairing: aemond targaryen / f!reader / aegon targaryen

contents: established realtionship(s), enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, angst, hurt/comfort cw for mentions of gore and violence, swearing, cheating, smut 18+, threesome (sorta? but not really?), cuckholding, exhibitionism & voyeurism (aegon likes to watch)

The battle waging across the sea startles you from sleep. You rouse before sunset to your heart unfurling behind your ribcage, pierced and bleeding out, as though you were one of the many soldiers reaching their end on the battlefield.

You wake from the nightmare only to enter the next — a raven, sent at dawn, from an allied house along the bay. Written in splattered ink along the worn parchment is a report of injuries sustained by the king. Alicent reads them aloud to you and Helaena, with shaking hands and a trembling voice. Your heart’s beating too loudly in your ears to understand her.

“His Grace fell violently from many leagues above the ground,” she managed to recite through choked-back cries. “Riddled with dragonflame, His Grace’s armor has melted heartily to his flesh—”

You find yourself planted firmly on the steps of the Dragonpit without a clue of how you got there, dressed only in your thin nightgown and thinner slippers. You suppose it was muscle memory that carried you there. You think it must be muscle memory, still, that has kept you standing in the same place — unmoving as the lilac sunrise turns sickly grey with rainclouds, without any food or drink offered by the handmaidens you have since sent away.

It is a profound and heavy thing, you realize, to be alive in the fresh early morning, when the world is so broken and ending for so many. The thought of Aegon dying in the sweetness of late summer makes you weep. You choke back burning tears in wait for his brother’s return — Aemond Targaryen, your husband, your wound — from which there has been no word.

A black, ponderous cloud of worry fogs your mind. You can see it all so vividly; feel it all as if you lived it — a death so horrid and beyond your comprehension. You wait and ache while your brain hums with madness.

You hear Vhagar before you see her.

The great beast shifts storm clouds with its leviathan wings, shaking the ground with each slow and heavy flutter as she nears the ground. Even from here, you can see the holes piercing her thin, satiny skin.

Your racing heart drops to your swirling stomach at the thought of Aegon falling from such a height — still saddled to a dying Sunfyre, looking directly at a certain death, unable to stop its coming. The thought of Aemond being with him during what the survivors of Rook’s Rest are calling The Night of A Thousand Suns fills you with agony.

Your worry for each of them pricks your skin, from the tips of your fingers to the bottoms of your feet. The entirety of your grief consumes you.

The ground trembles when Vhagar lands in the depths of Dragonpit, just barely fitting within the stone confines of her stable. The beast stills long enough for Aemond to unclip himself from her saddle and slide off her back. Then she’s off again, to the northernmost forest of King’s Landing, to heal by herself in the nest she made a century or so ago.

The gust of wind from her wings takes your breath away. Or perhaps it’s just the sight of Aemond, in the flesh, seemingly unharmed despite the worries that had been plaguing you all morning. Your mind swirls with deeper concerns instead, with horrid thoughts you’ve been choking back like bile since the Raven arrived.

You stand in place on the top step while Aemond stalks towards you. He peels off his leather gloves and dismisses the dragonkeepers with a wave of his pale hand. You feel like your heart’s in your throat when he stands before you, two steps downward, and of nearly equal height to you.

You grip his sharp jaw between your fingers, wild eyes darting over his face in search of any sign of harm. Aemond lets you observe him. He knows you need it.

“I’m alright,” he promises in a soft monotone.

You take hold of both his arms then, despite his assurances, like you have to see them for yourself. Your gaze falls up and down his form as you hunt for remains of an injury — a scrape on his skin, a tear in his leather garb, a smear of ash from a dragon’s flame.

You find nothing.

It is hard to be relieved by such a notion when his brother verges on death at this very moment.

“I am alright, my love,” Aemond repeats, firmer now, as if it’ll lessen the leaden weight in your chest.

He lifts his lanky fingers and wraps them around your wrist, guiding your hand away from his jaw when your nails start to dig unknowingly into his skin.

He peers at you with his lone eye and waits for you to kiss him — or to hug him, perhaps — something overtly affectionate that comes so naturally to you that has hitherto been very foreign to him. He expects you to be gladdened by his presence after such a tumultuous battle, of which he presumed would bring you closer.

With his brother now mutilated by dragon flame, Aemond flew back to the Red Keep with the understanding that there would be a bed and a throne for him — both empty and cold, waiting to be warmed with you by his side.

They said love was intensified by absence, but your face crumples under the weight of your emotion instead. Glassy tears fill your eyes, which squint with something short of fear as you turn away from him. Your hand slips from his without a single word uttered from you.

A very distant ache twists somewhere deep in his chest. A wildfire burns in the ether behind his ribcage, far away but scorching all the same. Watching you leave is a fate far worse than the hell his dead or dying brother must be facing at this very moment — hidden in a box somewhere in a throwaway carriage.

Aemond chokes down his jealousy like bile. He’s spent his whole life wishing he and Aegon could trade places, and now isn’t any different.

Even as his brother languishes in a mangled, bloodied, and ashened pile of flesh, it is he you still long for. Aemond still cannot compete with him — not even as your husband, not even as a living-breathing thing standing before you.

Because you would always be searching for Aegon. Even in his death. Even in yours.

“Behold! The traitor dragon Meleys!” a knight bellows beneath the sounds of a tolling bell and trumpeting horns.

The Kingsguard marches into the city with a beheaded dragon carted behind them. The smallfolk fall silent at the sight of the majestic beast, slaughtered from its scarlet body. You can’t remember a time when King’s Landing was ever so quiet. Something about it feels ghostlike.

“Slain at Rook’s Rest, by your king!” the man shouts, raising his fist in triumph. “To Aegon!”

You can barely hear any of it from here, where you stand at the highest balcony of the Red Keep, which overlooks the entire city — but the hushed silence is deafening, and the fear is achingly palpable.

Aemond stands just beside you, between you and his mother, with several inches of cautious space between you. He curls his pale hands around the railing and leans over the parapet. A late summer breeze ripples through his silver hair and leather jacket as he tilts his chin to peer at the crowd from the bridge of his nose — looking like he could swallow the whole of the King’s Landing if he wanted.

“Do they not realize we won the battle?” he wonders quietly.

“I don’t believe there are any winners here,” Alicent murmurs after a few long moments, oddly steady despite the worry that threatens to strangle her completely. “This is no victory, Aemond.”

You shake your head in agreement as burning tears gather at your waterline. “No. This is a dark, dark omen.”

You sniffle once, then exhale a shuddering breath from your mouth. Your hand reaches for your tightening chest to curl your fingers around the dainty necklace between your collarbones. A gift Aemond had made upon your betrothal — a golden rose to match the sigil of your old house, with an emerald sitting in the center to represent the one you married into.

Alicent looks past Aemond and over to you. Her wide brown eyes flit back and forth from your teary features to your tremoring fingers. She squints and tucks a rogue auburn curl behind her ear when it billows in her face. “How do you mean?”

“Growing up, I was taught that dragons were gods,” you confess, voice wet with unshed tears. “And this… This is not a victory march, Your Grace. This is an abomination.”

Your words hang heavy over the three of you for several long moments. The weight of them is palpable, like a pillow to the face. They force the breath from your lungs and demand to be acknowledged. And as the rest of the city recoils in fright, bowing their heads as though this was a funeral procession, the truth behind your words becomes indisputable.

Behind the beheaded Meleys is a cart carrying an unmarked box. There is no fanfare surrounding it, no horses or knights or signs of life. It is hardly more than a grim crate blanketed by a few tattered rags. A casket, perhaps.

“Is that him?” you try to ask, though the words get stuck in your throat. You clear it and try again. “Is— Is that Aegon?”

Alicent blinks back tears and nods until she chokes them down again. “’Tis likely,” she answers plainly.

“Do they know if he’s still alive in there?”

The mother thinks for a moment. Her tongue darts across her bottom lip, feeling the ridges where she’s nipped at them from anxiety, before shaking her head in a wordless response.

You spare one last look at the maimed Meleys and the casket trailing behind her as the soldiers march closer to the Red Keep. The sight grows blurry with burning tears, like pastel watercolors all bleeding together. You step back from the balcony with a shuddering breath and scurry off without another word.

Aemond watches you disappear in the corner of his eye but makes no move to stop you. He’d sooner cut off his hand than profess his need for you. It’d be easier, anyway.

You rush down the twisting stone steps of the Red Keep with the skirt of your dress in your hands. As your pretty pink gown flows behind you, you can hear your racing heart in your ears — a vigorous woosh, woosh, wooshing as your adrenaline spikes and pricks at your skin like flames.

You can hear Ser Branton Selmy’s armor clinking behind you, too, as your personal protector rushes to keep up with your rapid strides in such heavy garb.

You run into Criston Cole when you reach the west wing. Beside him is a nameless face you only vaguely recognize. He’s a Hightower, no doubt, so you figure he must be Gwayne. The pretty man looks strikingly similar to his sister, the Queen Dowager. And he has all the hardened features of his father.

You vaguely notice the horrors of war etched onto their otherwise handsome faces just before your eyes look past them — to the white cloaks heaving a wooden box down the corridor.

“Where are they taking him?” you ask with bated breath, fists tremoring where they clench the tulle of your skirt.

Ser Gwanye runs a pale hand through his auburn locks, pushing the long strands over his forehead. Both his hair and his hands are stained with bits of blood and dirt. “The far west end, princess,” he answers politely. “That is as much as I’ve heard, anyway.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “Our bedroom?” you wonder aloud before you mean to, eyes wide and full of apprehension.

Gwayne, too, looks on in shock. He blinks at you for a moment, before turning to Ser Criston for a surer answer.

The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard (and, most recently, the Lord Hand) peers at you with a sympathetic gaze. He ducks his scruffy chin to his chest as his dark eyes swim with apology.

“It is the closest bedroom to the Maester’s quarters, princess,” Criston tells you. “And right now, His Grace needs all the help he can get.”

You hurry to the furthest end of the Red Keep, knowing its only importance before now was being the outermost point from the bedroom you shared with Aemond. It was a very intentional decision you made when Aegon insisted the two of you share a room like any true couple would. (You figured if you were going to fuck his brother, it’d be polite if you didn’t make him bear witness to it.)

You stand in the doorway while the knights lift Aegon’s body from the crate, all wrapped in a burlap sack, as though he was presumed to die on the way home from battle. They lie him tenderly in the center of your shared bed. His blood stains the silk where you have laughed and cried and pleasured each other.

He’s still in his armor, though half of it is singed and nearly melted, and the maesters make quick work of tending to his fragile body. You can hardly see him now, with all the people rushing about, but you think perhaps it’s best that way. You know if you saw him in such a state, you’d never be able to forget it — and if Aegon was going to die today, he didn’t deserve to be remembered that way.

“Is he alive?” you gasp quietly into the chaos.

“His Grace remains with us,” Maester Orwyle answers carefully, dark eyes meeting yours from across the room. “For the moment.”

He’s still breathing, is what he’s really saying. But who knows for how long?

When the maesters start to peel the armor from the boy’s burned body, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder.

Ser Branton appears suddenly behind you and comforts you with a weathered touch, which is not typically permitted for knights. Touching the nobility was strictly off-limits unless completely necessary, and Ser Branton knows it. He’s been a member of the Kingsguard since before you were born. Long enough to earn the name Branton the Brave. But he figures this moment is as necessary as any other.

“Best look away, princess,” he advises in a gruff and gentle voice. “Let me escort you back to your chambers until the work is done.”

You will yourself to answer him, to let him whisk you away completely, to let him take you on a horse ride outside the city walls — anything to get you away from the unsightly horrors before you. But you remain still and silent despite yourself, watching the skin of your first love come off in melted strings as the maesters peel his armor away.

The smell of burnt flesh fills the room, along with the coppery tang of blood.

A pair of hurried footsteps sound behind you as Alicent rushes into the room. “Is he breathing?” she frets as she migrates to her eldest boy’s bedside, trying to peer past the bustling bodies for a glimpse of him. Her breath hitches at the sight of his charred chest, rising and falling with shallow and uneven breaths.

“Is my son going to die?” the mother rephrases with her hand to her mouth.

“I’m afraid I cannot say,” Maester Orwyle answers. He works with steady enough hands, but the waver in his voice is not reassuring. “If you’ll excuse me, Your Grace, these next hours are most critical.”

Alicent nods and takes a stumbling step back. “Of course,” she murmurs inaudibly.

You gravitate closer to the foot of the bed with wide and glazed-over eyes, perceiving nothing and everything all at once. You feel a bit like you’re dreaming, or like you’re underwater — like none of this is real.

But you still flinch at the sharp click of his broken bone being snapped back into place. And your chest still aches at the sound of his raspy breaths as he fights hard for each one of them.

You don’t notice Aemond entering the room until he caresses you with an icy hand. You fight back a shiver under his touch. His fingers are oddly gentle as they curl around the back of your neck, like he’s comforting you and reminding you to whom you belong simultaneously.

“He’s alive,” he observes indifferently.

“For now,” Alicent nods from the other side of the bed.

“By the grace of the Gods, no doubt,” Aemond monotones. He smooths his thumb over your skin in a reassuring pet as he looks past you to his mother. “But still… Someone will have to rule in his stead.”

For the first time in several minutes, your eyes part from Aegon’s body to glare at the boy beside you. Your gaze turns glassy as it swims with newfound tears. They burn at your waterline — not with grief now, but with anger.

You say nothing as you swat his hand away, turning on your heel and storming out of the room with Ser Branton close behind. Your hands ball into trembling fists at your sides. Your nails bite into the soft skin of your palm as you struggle to breathe through your rage.

The people have called you the Rose of King’s Landing since you first arrived to the city, some years ago now. You were as pretty and as delicate as they come — at least, that’s what they told you. But as your fury builds like bile in your throat, you no longer feel as fragile as a flower. You feel like Wildfire, green and flammable and volatile, moments away from being set ablaze.

Rain beats in fat droplets against the stained glass windows of the Sept. The wild cadence of the brewing storm mixes with the crackling of lit candles — the only two sounds filling the silent church. Lightning flashes and basks the expansive room in vivid purple hues for a moment before darkness returns again.

Aemond watches the flickering amber flames paint you in shades of gold as you kneel before them.

Your hands are entwined, but he knows you’re not praying. You haven’t prayed since you arrived to the city, as far as he understands it. You confessed to him, once, that you lost the need for all that when you lost your home.

He surmises that you came all this way to escape him — or, perhaps, the Red Keep in its entirety. The smell of death has overtaken the castle. The chaos within it has similarly refused to cease. Though he does not blame you for running, he cannot abide by your attempts to elude him.

His boots scuff the stone as he walks further into the Sept. The soft sound echoes through the quiet church. Your head whips over your shoulder in its direction.

Aemond swipes his rain-soaked hood from his silver head. The candlelight dances over his narrow features, softening the sharpened edges of them.

“I didn’t think you’d be here,” he confesses as he stalks closer to you, hands clasped behind his back, hidden beneath his heavy cloak. “I’ve been searching all over for you, to be sure.”

“Have you?” you hum unenthusiastically, rising to full height and smoothing the skirt of your dress. You tilt your chin to follow Aemond’s eyes when he towers over your smaller form.

“Normally, when you’re absent, I find you with the king. But considering my brother’s… current predicament…” he lilts cautiously, though the words spill from his mouth with a very intentional venom. “I struggled to place your whereabouts. I was moments away from sending the gold cloaks after you.”

You would be touched by his worry if you believed it to be true.

Your husband has always been intrinsically difficult to read, but you feel like you no longer know him now. As he looms before you — a pretty boy who always thought himself too ugly to be loved — he becomes an unrecognizable thing. Your stomach swirls at the uncanny feeling.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, husband,” you say with a pretty smile that verges on cynical. “I know you have much on your plate at the moment. What with trying to find a regent to take Aegon’s place and all.”

The banter is familiar, though it’s not typically so weighty — so backhanded and so filled with unspoken rage. The two of you fake smiles at each other while simultaneously biting your tongues so hard that blood pools in your mouths.

You take slow and unsure steps towards him, until your wringing hands brush his clothed torso. You peer up at him from beneath your lashes in a suddenly solemn look, which sparkles with hope and fear and dread.

“Can you tell me what happened to him? Please,” you murmur sheepishly, all but begging him now. “So I can stop imagining it.”

Aemond hums to himself, tilting his head curiously to the side. “And what are you imagining in that pretty little head of yours, hm?”

You avert your gaze to your fidgeting hands, where your fingers wring themselves into knots. Your tongue grazes your anxiety-bitten lip as you inhale a shaking breath, fighting for the courage to answer.

“Before your mother told me of the raven we’d received… About Aegon’s health, I was having… the most awful dream,” you confess for the first time aloud. “A nightmare— about you and Aegon flying together on dragonback. Aegon was… struggling to take on Meleys while you…”

Aemond waits with bated breath as you trail off. “While I what?” he presses.

“Watched,” you agonize, face twisted as you recall the vivid dream that feels like a memory now. “You set Vhagar on him, and you watched.”

“Hm,” Aemond hums apathetically. “A nightmare indeed.”

You meet his flat face with teary eyes. “So tell me what happened to him,”you repeat, firmer now. “Please.”

“I’m afraid it is quite boring— talk of war,” the boy lilts as he walks past you and toward the burning candles. “But, if you must know, we took the castle at the cost of… some nine hundred men.”

“And what of Aegon?”

Aemond lays his palm flat over a flickering flame and looks at you over his shoulder, like he doesn’t feel any of it — or, at the very least, like he wants you to think he doesn’t.

“His Grace fought valiantly. But he was drunk when he mounted Sunfyre, and Rhaenys... She was no stranger to battle. Aegon was long in the dying, I’m afraid— the outcome was surely inevitable.”

“And where were you?” you blurt with the courage strikes you suddenly. “What was your part in all this?”

Something in Aemond’s eyes flickers, as though in surprise of your subtle accusation. Though, perhaps it’s only the candlelight.

“I set Vhaghar on The Queen Who Never Was,” he shrugs plainly. “I distracted her from my brother, and slaughtered her dragon.”

You muster a wavering grin. “What a heroic tale.”

“I wouldn’t wish such a sight on my worst enemy,” Aemond tells you solemnly as he swipes ash from his calloused palms. He thinks for a moment, then corrects himself. “Well… Perhaps I would…”

The edges of his lips lift in a barely-there smirk. The one you give him in return is weighed down with an obvious emotion, which is etched now across your delicate features.

“I want to believe you had no part in this, Aemond… But my mind refuses to relent on the matter.”

Aemond’s face hardens. Lightning flashes in violet hues and casts daunting shadows over the sharp edges of his face. His words are accompanied by rolling thunder that trembles the earth under your feet. “I loved my brother—”

“I think someone like you can care a lot about a person and still be able to kill them,” you confess, so gently it feels like a proclamation of love.

“Maybe so,” he hums indifferently.

His apathy is unsurprising, but it doesn’t hurt you any less. The familiarity of it pierces you like a dagger and presses its lips to your forehead like a kiss all at once. There is intimacy, hidden somewhere in his detachment — and if it’s all because he loves you, does it matter if it hurts?

“I used to love you, Aemond,” you tell him because it feels necessary now, considering you can’t get anything tangible out of him. “Even when you didn’t believe I did. Especially when you didn’t believe I did.”

The blatant use of the past tense feels like a cold hand wrapped around his throat. “What changed?”

“You did.”

“No,” Aemond insists with a stubborn shake of his head as he closes the distance between you. His footsteps are as light and as measured as the late-summer rain raging outside. “I’m the same as I ever was… You only see me completely now. That’s all.”

He curls his cold hands around your waist to pull you closer. His touch is familiar in a way that makes your stomach ache — like an old house that used to be yours, but isn’t anymore; like a place that you should remember, but barely can.

Your breath catches in your throat because his words feel like a confession.

The corner of his mouth quirks in a proud smile because he is confessing, and you’re still letting him hold you.

“We have seen the worst parts of each other, have we not? And yet…” Aemond trails off, ducking softly down like he intends to kiss you. Your lips part in wait for his despite yourself. He trails the tip of his chiseled nose over the bridge of yours instead. “We understand each other in our bones. We cannot help but to live inside of one another, like… A snake… doomed to swallow its own tail.”

His chapped lips duck to graze your pulse point. You exhale a trembling breath as your hands ball into fists at your sides. You make no attempt to stop him, however, as though paralyzed by your deep-rooted affection for him.

“Or a fish hook… into an open eye,” Aemond continues cynically, breath fanning warm over your collarbones. Chill bumps pebble over your delicate skin in his wake. The sight makes him swell with pride. “Or a decaying corpse and its maggots… Mutual destruction—”

He rises again to kiss you, mouth parted like he plans to swallow you whole.

Your senses return, and you pull back from him — just enough for your lips to graze but not fully meet. You realize, then, that you’re holding your breath. You exhale a wavering sigh as you stand obediently ahead of him. Nose to nose, chest to chest, heartbeart to heartbeat.

“You’re a nightmare,” you pant against his mouth, eyes fluttering shut as you raise a hand to his face. The pad of your thumb smooths over the marred skin beneath his patched eye. “There is deeply wrong with you, Aemond. And I think whatever is… is wrong with me also.”

Lightning strikes with a resounding crack some leagues away — or, perhaps, in his own chest, which warms at the thought of being understood by you.

He kisses you with the fire behind his ribcage, breathes the smoke from his lungs into yours. The Kinslayer licks into your mouth, and you let him.

You’re doomed to it, you realize — doomed to acknowledging the very worst parts of him and never being able to abandon him. To spending a lifetime unwrapping his misdeeds and kissing them away like a baby with a scraped knee.

You will spend the rest of your life holding his darkened soul up to the light and trying hard to understand him. And as Aemond kisses the breath from your lungs in the middle of the candlelit Sept, in the epicenter of a raging summer storm, you think it must be better than not having him at all.

The days anticipating Aegon’s waking are ruthless and bloodstained.

You don’t need sleep for many of them, and you only part from his bedside long enough to tend to your wifely duties. The castle sees little of you otherwise. You become a ghostly thing instead — a phantom of your own regret, a shadow of all your sins.

And even when it’s full of so much love, all a ghost can do is haunt. You idle at Aegon’s bedside accordingly. Solemnly, silently, softly. While melancholy stains your hands like blood.

You feel as though you’re cleansing your impure touch every time you dip your hands into the steaming bowl of water at your side. You soak Aegon’s bandages in its medicinal contents until it burns your skin raw. Until you find repentance in the ache. And then you smooth them carefully over his raging wounds the way Maester Orwyle taught you.

Your unworthy hands run gently over his lithe, burnt, and death-touched body, finding holiness in his pale skin. You kneel at his side and hold his unhurt hand in both of yours — not to pray, but to atone.

“If you’re going to die here, in our bed, I hope very much that you intend to haunt me,” you whisper through tears, bringing his hand to your mouth and running your lips over the grooves of his knuckles. “I would much rather you drive me mad from the spiritual plane than go where I cannot follow you.”

Your handmaiden knocks softly on the door, then. She peeks just enough inside to tell you the high council meeting has finished — the council of which your husband now sits at the head.

Aemond, crowned newly regent, wears the weight of kinghood like he was always meant to do it. You hate how well it fits him. You hate what lengths he’s gone to steal a crown that no person should ever aspire to possess.

Still, though, you part from Aegon with a kiss to his unburnt cheek and walk to the other side of the castle to tend to your husband — like a sheep led to slaughter.

“Dove?” Aegon calls in a raspy voice, the name like gravel in his throat, when he feels you disappear from his side.

You do not hear him.

Aegon slips back into the lonely abyss.

You retire the following morning to the Godswood — the only place in King’s Landing where you’re free from pitied glances and words of sympathy. You sit against the white bark of the old weirwood tree with a heavy book propped on your knees. The rising sun filters in golden rays through the orange leaves, which rustle in time with a calm summer wind.

Aemond finds you there when you don’t arrive to break your fast. Something about the sight of you forces him back into childhood — all bathed in the late morning sun, in a pretty pink dress that sits in a perfect circle around you, like a painting that breathes with life.

In that moment, he’s a kid who still has both his eyes — who doesn’t startle people when he looks at them — who hasn’t hurt anyone yet because no one’s yet hurt him. For a flicker of a moment, the two of you are strangers. Strangers who haven’t ruined each other by being together.

Aemond chokes down the nostalgia and strangles it in a clenched fist. “The table is set,” he calls to you, in place of any real greeting.

You don’t look up from your book as you flip the page. “I’m not hungry.”

“You haven’t eaten in days,” the boy tells you, trying hard to bite back his misplaced anger. “You’ll soon be withering away with my brother if you aren’t careful.”

“I’d rather,” you murmur cynically as your chin tilts to meet his eyes.

You don’t mean to glare at him the way you do, but it’s hard to look at the mirror of yourself any other way. A part of him slipped into you that night at the Sept, like lightning through the stained glass windows, and now it’s hard to stomach the sight of him.

“What are you reading?” Aemond asks, changing the subject entirely, as he nods to the heavy book covering the expanse of your lap.

You avert your gaze then, like you’re ashamed of the answer. He walks closer to peek at the thick parchment pages and finds a hand-drawn diagram of a maimed body with increasing levels of burnt skin. His chest pinches as he seethes.

“Even in death, my brother is still the one you want,” Aemond scoffs a bitter laugh. “He is always where your loyalties will lie— ”

“Well, Aegon is not dead,” you correct with an eerily steady voice as your eyes hardened into an unwavering squint. “Though I know how much it must pain you.”

“You’re meaning eludes me, I’m afraid. You’ll have to speak more plainly.”

“You are easily the smartest man I have ever met,” you confess with a gentle smile. “So please do not patronize me by playing the fool.”

Aemond opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He is, instead, interrupted by hurried footsteps that crunch crunch crunch atop the falling leaves. “We’re busy,” he snaps as he whips his head over his shoulder.

Maester Orwyle cowers. His chain rattles as he bows his bald head in apology. “Excuse me, Prince Regent— Princess— But I am happy to report that His Grace, The King has regained consciousness this morning.”

Your heart lurches into your throat, making it very suddenly hard to breathe. Your feet scramble for purchase on the ground as you stand to full height again. Dirt stains your hands as you clutch the heavy book between them.

“Only for a few moments,” the man amends before he overexcites you.

“But he is awake?” you press with bated breath.

The Maester nods. “He is.”

“I knew it,” you say, laughing giddily to yourself. “I knew his breath was coming easier to him.”

Maester Orwyle struggles to keep his emotions at bay with your infectious excitement. “Aye. The King is much stronger than I gave him credit for,” the man nods, hands clasped as though in prayer. “He may yet live— thank the Gods.”

“What happy news,” Aemond hums when he realizes he hasn’t yet said anything.

His thin lips purse in a quiet smile as his glacial gaze flits over to you. He stares mostly from the side of his patched eye, so ardently it feels like he’s looking at you through the covered sapphire hidden behind it.

“Perhaps you should accompany Maester Orwyle to my brother’s chambers. I will inform the family as we break our fast,” the boy tells you with purely selfish intent.

He figures it’ll be easier to watch you rush back into Aegon’s arms if he’s commanding it of you. His chest threatens to swirl with warmth, however, at the relieved look you give him.

Your eyes soften for the first time since he returned from Rook’s Rest. You don’t care whether he’s holding an olive branch in his hand or a dagger. You’re thankful for it, either way.

“Of course, Your Grace,” you say with an obedient bow of your head.

You go to kiss his cheek before you part from him, if only to maintain appearances in front of the Maester.“Thank you,” Aemond hears you whisper before your mouth meets his skin. The plush of your lips grazes the pink scar beneath his eye in a softer touch than he expects, in a softer touch than he deserves.

You burst through the ornate double doors of the west-end bedroom like a million glittering sun rays.

Aegon can only see you through the bleary haze of his one good eye, but he knows you put The Night of a Thousand Suns to shame. He’s seen dragonfire closer than most people have, and not even that can rival the vividity of his glittering Dove.

The bustling maesters part wordlessly for you like breaking rain clouds. You rush like sunshine past them and straight to his bedside. “Aegon!” you call, teary-eyed and giggling at the sight of his woken state.

He expects you to flinch when you’re closer to him, to recoil at the sight of his melted flesh. He wouldn’t blame you for it — it’d hurt, of course, but he wouldn’t blame you. It shocks him most when you bend at the waist to kiss him instead.

Your lips graze the unburnt skin of his right cheek. Aegon can smell rose petals in your hair and lavender on your skin when you lean over him. It smells like home when everything around him reeks of death.

“I’m surprised you still recognize me—” Aegon jokes dryly, then drags in a ragged breath when his lungs start screaming. The inhale rattles through his bare chest, covered partially in the bandages you helped dress before break of day. “—After all this.”

You sit at his side and smile so hard your eyes squint at the edges. “Don’t be absurd. I was born knowing you, Aegon,” you argue with his jaw cradled in a gentle hand. You look over your shoulder to the nearest maester and request, “Can you fetch me some marigolds? And dandelion, please? Oh! And a pot of hot water to make tea in?”

The older man bows his head obediently and asks no question as he stalks out of the room.

You turn back to Aegon. “I hear it may help treat your burns. It’ll at least ease the pain of them, I’m sure.”

The boy shifts in a feeble attempt to get comfortable, which is an impossible feat considering his current state — with half of his body riddled with oozing burns and an elevated leg, shattered and likely never the same again. The only comfort he finds is your warm hand on his cheek. He leans into it like a sunflower to sunshine.

“How do you know all that?” he rasps.

“I read it in a book.”

His remaining eye flits to the edge of the bed, where you’ve laid a thick volume at his feet. He scoffs at the sight of it, then coughs when his lungs burn (which, of course, only adds to the sting.)

“A boring book,” the boy insists as you ease a cup of water to his dry mouth, cupping his chin to catch the dribble.

“Only slightly,” you joke with a quiet smile. “But I fear I was quite motivated in learning how to treat you.”

Aegon smacks his chapped lips when you pull away, watching attentively as you sit the chalice back at his bedside. His chest blooms with something warm: his affection for you, perhaps, or maybe the lingering ash in his lungs.

“You’re slaving over the Grand Maester’s books—” He inhales a wheezing breath that leaves in a rattling exhale. “—To learn how to take care of me?”

“Yes.”

“What wretched work.”

“Not to me,” you insist with a blossoming grin. “Not if it’s you.”

Aegon’s ocean eye goes glassy with burning tears he tries hard to blink away. A furrow forms in the marred skin of his forehead as his brows pinch together — one singed off and the other half gone. His features crumple as he forces himself to choke down his emotion like bile.

He hasn’t cried about it yet. About any of it. His manhood has already been stripped from him — he’s scared that if he cries about it now, it’ll be like admitting some kind of defeat.

You seem to know this without words. Like you can read it all in his very expressive face, which he knows is so much different now than the one you fell in love with. You don’t look at him like he’s any different, though, and something about it makes his head spin.

“Will you lay with me?”

“I can’t, Aegon— I wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t hurt me,” he wheezes. “You can’t.”

Despite your better judgment, you round the mattress to lay at his unburnt side. The muscle memory that carries you there feels strange. You’ve been rounding this very bed to lay to the right of him for many moons now — a side you claimed wordlessly as your own, as Aegon did with the left. Nothing has changed. Only, at the same time, everything has changed.

You recline gingerly along the feathered mattress, careful not to jostle the boy too much. When you turn to rest on your side, Aegon shifts on the mattress to be level with you. He doesn’t get too far, what with his elevated leg and the rest of him much too stiff. He turns his chin to his shoulder to face you instead. His eyes flutter shut when you lift your hand to his face, tracing the edges of his bandages with a featherlight touch.

“How can you still look at me like that?” Aegon croaks as your pointer finger trails down the slope of his nose.

“Like what?” you murmur distantly.

“I don’t know,” he answers before a wheeze racks through his chest. “Like you still love me.”

His words hit you like a fist to the stomach. Something about them makes your throat tighten with a welling emotion.

“Because I do love you, Aegon,” you answer through a teary giggle, resting a very delicate hand over his bandaged jaw. “I can’t help it. I knew I was doomed to it since I was ten-and-three— when you told me you were betrothed to Helaena, and yet I was still searching for you in all the eyes of my potential suitors.”

“Do you search for me now?” he mumbles with a hopeful gleam in his remaining eye.

Your smile widens. “I search for you always.”

“Even now?”

“Always,” you repeat.

“What if I…” he trails off, smacking his dry mouth and averting his gaze.

He looks, instead, at the green silk draping the ceiling — where he insisted a mirror be hung some days ago. He said he wanted to see you from every angle when you were riding him, said that was of utmost importance. All that feels pretty moot now, though, and the notion makes his chest ache.

“What if I’m different after this?” he wonders through the ash trapped in his lungs. You know it must hurt for him to talk, so you grimace when he continues. “What if I’m immobile? What if I— I can’t pleasure you anymore?”

A giggle sputters past your lips. Aegon flinches. He doesn’t know what he expected you to say to that, but he hadn’t expected you to laugh.

“If you think I am only at your side because of my… carnal urges,” you lilt teasingly, rising on your elbow to peer down at him with sparkling eyes. “Then you are sadly mistaken, my king. Surely, you’re forgetting the many, many years it took you to learn my body… wherein your rendered services were, perhaps, less than pleasurable.”

Aegon tries to laugh until his chest stings. The air rushes suddenly from his lungs and leaves a burning sensation in its wake — drier than the sands of Dorne, hotter than dragonfire.

He grimaces and struggles to catch his breath. He’s only able to relax when you lay your hand over the right side of his chest, where his skin is pale and supple and still normal.

“Meaning no offense, of course,” you continue with a lazy smile. “You’ve undoubtedly become an expert of me over the years.”

Aegon tries not to cower under the sincerity twinkling in your eyes. He can’t tell if you’re just ignoring his freakish nature, or if you’ve already adjusted to it entirely. He prays for the latter. He’s grateful, however, for either.

“Will you kiss me?” he rasps in a breathy whisper.

You don’t answer with words. You only lean forward and press your lips to the flushed apple of his cheek, lingering there for several long moments. The foreign act of tenderness makes him sigh hard through his nose.

You part from him to find his lips quirked in a very distant smile. It isn’t nearly as bright as you’re used to — not as pink or as mischievous — but you can see it still, beneath the layers of bandages and marred skin.

“Not there,” he jokes with a rattling breath.

Your hand lifts to caress his cheek. Your thumb grazes the grooves of the plaster sticking to his skin there. Your eyes flit from his sparkling gaze to his parted lips. You lean down and kiss him gently — enough for him to feel you, but not enough to feel the ache on his burnt side.

And even as you’re kissing him, and Aegon’s kissing you back, you can’t help but wish that you were kissing him still.

Aemond sits alone at the head of an ornate dining table and glares at the ghost of you across the room. Past the flickering candles, and the goblets of wine, and the trays of your most favorite desserts — to where an empty chair waits for a body that’s never coming to fill it.

It’s his fault, he knows. He’s the one who refused to summon you for supper, yet he still finds himself blaming you for your absence. As the blade of self-made solitude pierces his sternum, he imagines it’s your pretty hand twisting the dagger. The plates before him remain untouched and go slowly cold as the wound bleeds out.

The thought of supping without you makes him too sick to eat. His empty stomach swirls with the waves of his grief.

Aemond knew that, were his brother to ever wake, he would be left with only the barest scraps of you. He thought he was used to picking at the flesh and bones of your affection like a vulture to decaying flesh, but he feels the lack of you most ardently now. To the point where he’s made a weapon of your leaving.

He sends you away most nights, when you part finally from Aegon’s bedside to attend to your wifely duties. It was easier to wave a dismissive hand while you undressed for him — to tell you that he had war plans to discuss with Ser Criston or whores at the brothel awaiting his arrival. The former was sometimes true, the latter almost never. Never ever, to be exact.

You’d re-tie the lace of your slip, covering the petaled skin you were baring for him, and muster a wavering smile to cover up your aching. And though Aemond wasn’t entirely fond of hurting you, there was a certain gratification in making you feel an ounce of the heartache he was drowning in.

But the cycle of woe continues on, and he finds himself floundering for you all over again.

He spares one last glare at the empty seat reserved for his wife — who, like her love, would never truly be there — and rises abruptly from the table. The legs of his wooden chair scrape the cobbled floors. The harsh sound echoes through the empty throne room.

“What shall we do with the food, my pri— Your Grace?” a servant boy stammers when Aemond walks by.

“Feed it to the hounds,” the boy monotones.

Aemond just barely manages to keep his head above water long enough to find you. He storms to the west wing of the Red Keep and bursts through the double doors of the bedroom you and Aegon share. He feels like he’s been set aflame every time he passes the threshold. He figures he belongs here about as much as a demon at a Holy Sept.

He finds you, unsurprisingly, tending to the sleeping king at his bedside. You dip a thin cloth into a steaming bowl, soaking it in the aromatic medicinal bath, before smoothing it over his burns with a practiced touch.

Aegon’s left side is not nearly as raw and raging as it was some weeks ago, perhaps because of your gentle hands. His skin is still marred, though — features gnarled and blurred and disfigured. Half of his hair has been singed off, along with his ear and most of his eye. He’s a monster on all accounts, but you tend to him with loving hands anyway.

Your head whips over your shoulder at the sudden intrusion. You find Aemond lingering at the doorway; fists balled at his sides, chest heaving with panted breaths. Your brows raise expectantly, and Aemond searches for something to say.

“The table is set for supper,” he blurts.

“Alright,” you hum in a quiet voice. “I’ll join you in a moment.”

You turn away, and the thin fabric of your nightgown flows behind you. It’s made of a pale pink cotton, with long sheer sleeves, and a tie at the chest that reveals a sliver of your skin.

You’re typically only so casually dressed with him. It’s almost like you’ve trained him to salivate at the sight, knowing you’d be taking it off for him under any other circumstance. His hunger for you builds despite himself.

“Will you?” he presses, feigning indifference, as he saunters into the room with his hands behind his back. “You’ve hardly left this room, I’ve heard.”

“Well, I heard that you’ve spent the entire day in council meetings,” you argue while wringing damp plaster between your fists. Hot water trickles back into the bowl, stirring now with golden petals and dandelion fluff. You glance back at him, this time with something mischievous twinkling in your eyes. “What would have me to do, hm? Wait for you well into the twilight hour until you decide you have enough time for me? With my legs spread for you like a common whore?”

“You used to,” Aemond quips as he stills at the foot of the bed.

You scoff and turn away again, laying the moist cloth over Aegon’s bare chest and smoothing it flat until it seals to his skin.

“You’ve never been this gentle with me,” the boy observes, mostly light-hearted, though the words come out too deadpan to be as playful as he means them.

A smile hints at the corner of your mouth. “You never wanted me to be this gentle with you, Your Grace.”

The title falls from your mouth like sweetened venom. Aemond feels it sparkling in his veins as he rounds the bed to be nearer to you.

“Hm. Maybe so,” he murmurs with a wide hand pressed to your lower back. You feel his fingers fist the delicate fabric of your nightgown as he whispers, “But His Grace has needs.”

“Well, His Grace has whores,” you spit back, chin tilted defiantly.

“Careful,” Aemond lilts with his lips pursed in a nearly undetectable smirk. “I’d start to think you were jealous.”

You only shrug in response, hoping your envy isn’t as obvious as it feels. “I have naught to be jealous of… Not when your cock tastes of my cunt—”

“Mm. Such vulgar words from such a pristine girl.”

Aemond ducks down like he intends to kiss you, but stops short with his nose pressed to the side of yours — willing you to make the first move.

You smirk against his mouth, refusing to give him the satisfaction, as you grip his leather jacket in your fists. “If you think I’m pristine… Then you obviously haven’t been paying attention.”

The boy’s mouth parts to swallow you whole. You almost let him — until the bed behind you creaks with movement, and you jerk suddenly back from him.

Aegon smacks his lips as he stirs from sleep. He shifts on the mattress, then grimaces at the harsh reminder of his current state. “Don’t stop on my account,” he mumbles, less raspy than before, but still gravelly in speech.

“We were just leaving,” Aemond insists as his long fingers curl around your wrist.

You try to snatch yourself out of his grip and fail. “The Prince Regent was just leaving,” you correct.

Aegon tries to smile. It feels like he is, anyway, though it looks more like a wince beneath his burns and bandages. “Perhaps you should both stay… I was growing quite fond of the show, actually.”

“I’m sure you were,” Aemond scoffs, peering down at the boy from the bridge of his nose. “But I’m afraid you’ll get nothing here.”

When he tugs you away from Aegon’s bedside, you have little choice but to follow him. He’s much too strong for you to fight — though you try, still, to pry his taut grip with your free hand.

“He’s lying, you know?” the king croaks from behind you. “About the whores.”

Aemond stops in his tracks at the doorframe. You stumble over your feet behind him. When neither of you says anything, Aegon continues.

“I tried to take him to a brothel once. Some days after he was betrothed to you, I believe…” he trails off to take a ragged breath. “He nearly keeled over when he passed the threshold. He’s much more dutiful to you than he’d have you believe… Unfortunately.”

Your wide eyes flit from the bedridden boy to the one towering over you. “Is that true, husband?” you murmur.

Aemond falters for a moment. “The king is obviously half-cut. The Milk of the Poppy’s warped his mind, no doubt—”

“I am perfectly temperate, brother.”

“My sincerest apologies, Your Grace.”

“Well, when the Dove gives orders, I am not inclined to disobey,” Aegon quips and tries to smile, though the expression is only audible in his voice.

Aemond’s stoic eyes flit back to you. “Giving orders to the king now, are you?”

“Aye. I am,” you answer, trying to fight back a smirk and failing. “And his regent, perhaps. Though he is much less acquiescent than his brother.”

“Is that so?” Aemond hums with his chin tilted upward, amusement glittering in his otherwise hardened gaze.

Your smile sits lazy and lopsided on your mouth. You look once to Aegon, whose one-eyed stare is expectant and unwavering, and then back to your husband. “Haply,” you shrug with your chin to your shoulder, peering through your lashes with the whole universe in your eyes.

“Kiss me,” you command.

The words fall over Aemond like stars.

He cradles the back of your neck and licks into your mouth without warning. Your head tips back as he pries through your lips with his tongue. His chiseled nose smushes into the side of yours while he steals the breath from your lungs.

Aegon watches from afar and writhes pathetically on the mattress across the room. His chapped mouth parts in time with yours, tongue lolling in his mouth as he tries to remember what it felt like to kiss you. His hands curl into fists under the weight of his yearning — the ache in his healing left-hand goes unnoticed over his much louder desire for you.

“Closer,” he calls in a gravelly voice, then clears his throat when the word gets stuck there. “Come closer.”

Your lips part with an audible click. A string of saliva threatens to keep the two of you connected, glimmering faintly in the candlelight. A whine sounds in Aegon’s throat at the sight of it.

Aemond wipes his chin with the back of his hand, mouth rosy and shining with your spit. “Surely you aren’t so desperate, brother… You’ll be parading ‘round the brothels in no time, I’m sure.”

Aegon does not admit aloud that his intermittent pleasure house visits were hardly for his own urges. He enjoyed the smells more than anything, of primal pleasure and cheap wine — and the feeling of pride as he introduced new squires to the most skillful madames. He’s watched many boys become men through an opened curtain with a belly full of ale.

He corrects, instead, “Did the maesters not tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“My cock was burnt like a sausage on a spit,” Aegon admits with a clenched jaw. “I can hardly piss without it trickling down my leg—”

“An unfortunate circumstance, indeed,” Aemond hums.

“A circumstance you ought to atone for,” Aegon sneers.

The calloused palm cradling your neck slips away as the youngest brother turns to face the eldest. Candlelight flickers over the sharpened edges of his face like hellfire. “I thought you recalled none of it,” he murmurs with a knowing squint in his lone eye.

“Perhaps my memory serves me now,” Aegon retorts, wincing as he sits further up on the pillows. It’s much easier now, without his leg tied and elevated, but the ache there makes every movement impossible. He talks through heaving pants when the breath leaves him suddenly. “Perhaps— Perhaps I am in need of something to ease my mind.”

Silence slips into the room like moonlight through the opened window. Your eyes flit back and forth between the two men, narrowed softly in confusion. The two of them seem to speak in riddles, in remnants of a conversation you weren’t there to witness.

“Mm. Perhaps,” Aemond concludes emotionlessly. “But I don’t believe it is up to me.”

His head turns slowly to you, and your heart lurches into your throat. Your hands shake with the sudden power placed within them.

Fingers trembling, you reach wordlessly for the lace at your chest. You tug at the ends of it until the knot loosens entirely. The top of your gown slacks to reveal the peaks of your pillowy breasts. Aemond’s mouth parts with the want to kiss them as he migrates behind you to work at the tie along your back.

“Take it off,” Aegon tells you through heavy breaths. “All of it.”

You feel Aemond’s hands smooth under your untied nightgown, cold and calloused along your warm and supple skin. He urges the fabric off your body as you slip the sheer sleeves down your arms.

The delicate cotton pools around your feet. The evening breeze brushes your bare body like satin. The unabashed leers from the silver-haired boys create pebbling goosebumps on your skin.

Aegon swallows through a dry throat. His trembling hands flex to pierce through the weight of his longing. “Come closer,” he commands. Though, when his voice breaks halfway through, it sounds more like a plea.

Your bare feet pad along the cobbles in slow and hesitant steps. You stop at the foot of the bed and try not to fidget too much as Aegon’s remaining eye rakes over your body.

The sight of you before him — your naked breasts begging to be kissed, your soft stomach waiting to be caressed, your plush thighs begging to be clutched — makes a sigh rattle in his chest.

“Closer.”

“How much closer can I get, Your Grace?” you ask him, giggling when Aemond presses his clothed body flush against your back. The tip of his nose traces the shell of your ear as he cradles your hips between calloused palms. His breath fans warm over your neck, and you fight back a shiver.

“Crawl,” Aegon answers as he shifts on the mattress, raising his chin like he means to beckon you forward. “Crawl to me.”

You feel Aemond’s thin lips curl into a smile as he mouths at your pulse. “And here I thought you were the one giving orders,” he quips against your skin.

“She is no stranger to my direction, brother. I assure you,” Aegon rasps. His gaze pauses its trek down your naked form and hardens when it meets your eyes again. “Crawl,” he repeats.

Your body seems to move on its own accord. You blink, and your palms are pressed suddenly to the silk blanket — knees digging into the downy mattress to push you closer to the bedridden king.

Aegon’s unscarred hand cradles the back of your head when you’re finally in reach. You straddle his thighs, careful to avoid the healing bone in his left leg, as he urges you further into him. Your mouth parts for a kiss. A whimper sounds in your throat when his lips lock on your pulse point instead — feeling too unworthy to kiss something as pretty as you with such a sullied mouth.

His lips are chapped, but his tongue is warm and smooth against your skin. The contrast between the two is dizzying.

Aegon’s teeth graze your throat as his hand falls to your chest. He cups your breast in his palm, smoothing the pad of his thumb over your pebbled nipple. He knows how sensitive you are there — he’d always remember your body, even in death.

Your moan echoes through the silent room, as silky as the moonlight streaming in rays through the window. You feel the effects of his touch in a shiver down your spine — in a warm feeling that pools in the pit of your stomach.

Aemond only watches for a moment, motionless and observant. He can’t see your face from here, but he can see each of your reactions to Aegon’s subtle touches. Your cunt drools with neglect, begging to be touched and fluttering every time the boy pinches your taut nipples.

Aegon ducks down for your chest just as the command to do so sits on Aemond’s tongue. The older boy mouths sloppily at your tits, slurping audibly at your plush skin and licking over the fleeting bites he scatters there.

You cradle the back of his head and whimper at the feeling of his tongue. Your pussy weeps for more just as you do, leaking a glimmering honey that shines on your thighs when it catches the candlelight.

Aemond’s mouth waters for a taste of you. His pale hands begin working at the buckles of his leather jacket, steady but unusually hasteful as he rushes to fuck you.

Aegon catches sight of him and smirks into your breasts. He pulls off of you with an audible smack, licking his lips like he can still taste you on them. His cheeky smile is somewhat hidden in the burns on his left cheek, but you can hear it in his voice.

“That is very presumptuous of you, brother,” the boy rasps.

Finally freed from his jacket, Aemond shrugs off his undershirt and works at the buttons of his pants. “Well, someone has to fuck her,” he murmurs mindlessly before flashing a mischievous glare with his lone eye. “And I hear your cock was burnt like a sausage on a spit—”

“You’re doing it again,” you lilt in annoyance, only partially playful, as you glance at him over your shoulder. Your stomach swirls when you find Aemond already leering at you. You smile and arch your back, making an utter show of it. “I can hear you, you know?”

Aemond smirks and drops his breeches. The thick fabric falls heavily to the floor to reveal the expanse of his milky white legs and the half-hard cock hanging between them, glowing red at the tip with need. He wraps the stiffening limb in his fist and works it harder for you.

“I’m glad for it,” the boy insists as he kneels on the bed behind you. The mattress creaks and dips under his weight. “It only means you can hear everything I intend to do to you—”

“Use your fingers on her first,” Aegon blurts, made impatient with desire and the lack of your attention. “Get her ready for it— It drives her mad.”

Words of protest turn to dust on your tongue when Aemond’s fingers migrate immediately to your weeping cunt. He runs his middle and ring finger between your velvet lips, coating them in your honey before sticking the former inside you. An airy sigh spills from your open mouth at the feeling. Aemond snarls when your pussy tightens around him, all but swallowing his finger.

You accept a second one with ease — hardly noticing another when Aegon slips his right hand between your thighs. He massages your clit with the pads of his fingers, much softer in comparison to his brother’s. He rubs you there rapidly and with very little rhythm while Aemond fucks his fingers into you with languid strokes.

The variation between the two makes you keen.

“Well, I do believe she’s ready enough,” Aemond quips in a monotone as your honey runs down his wrist. “Feel her— She’s practically weeping for it.”

Aegon’s hand dips instantly, shoving his brother’s out of the way. He shifts on the mattress and grimaces softly at the strain on his bandaged side. The pain, however, goes largely unnoticed as he slips his fingers into you. A groan rumbles in his throat when your eager cunt takes both of his fingers with little effort.

The feeling of your silky walls wrapped around him — the notion that he will never again feel you on his cock — makes him grieve. His marred features twist with something hard and soft, with grief and anger maybe, before he pulls out of you again.

“Fuck her,” Aegon commands like a true king, before inhaling a rattling breath. “Fuck her now— Make her scream.”

Aemond chuckles at his brother’s enthusiasm, of which he often has too much. He wraps his hand around his stiff cock, now ardently wet with you, and uses his sticky fingers to lubricate himself.

“As you wish, your grace,” he murmurs quietly to himself.

Your chin tilts to your shoulder to look back at him. You whimper when the head of his cock presses itself at your entrance — smooth and warm and leaking with precum. Aegon’s fingers grip suddenly at your jaw. The tips of them dig aggressively into the skin there as he forces you to look at him. Despite his hardened features, his eyes gleam with something more pleading.

“Say my name while he fucks you,” he commands, begs, through gritted teeth. “Pretend it’s my cock inside you.”

You nod rapidly into his hand. Your eyes remain locked with his while Aemond slips into your waiting pussy. Your mouth falls softly agape as he fills you. A moan spills from your lips when he buries himself to the hilt. Aegon’s bandaged head tilts back against the pillow, jaw clenched, like your pleasure is his own.

“Does that feel good?” the king asks.

You nod again into his hand, whimpering when Aemond pulls all the way out only to thrust completely back into you again. Your body jerks on top of Aegon’s like you’re riding him — only his cock is hardly more than mangled skin now, which buzzes faintly with a desire he’ll never be able to give you.

Aemond curls a calloused hand around your shoulder to steady you while your hands fist at the pillow on either side of Aegon’s head.

“Tell me.”

Your lips open to make out the words, though only moans fall from them. It takes much more effort to speak than usual, with Aemond punching the breath from your lungs with his expert thrusts. “I— It feels so good, Aegon—” you manage through labored breaths just before a whimper sounds in your throat.

His hand leaves your face to trek down the length of your body. He finds your clit more swollen now — and more sensitive, it seems, when his touch makes you instantly squeal. Your eyes squeeze shut as your head tosses back, mouth parted in a silent moan while both boys work at the most sensitive parts of you.

Your pussy flutters around Aemond’s cock. Honey seeps from your cunt as you grow impossibly tighter around him. He braces his hands on your hip and shoulder, squeezing you there just as you squeeze him. His silver hair falls around his face when he drops his head forward to rumble a deep groan. It sounds like thunder in his throat.

A foreign sense of pride swells in Aegon’s chest at the sounds of your entwining pleasures — which he feels as though he’s orchestrating, despite his misbegotten impotence.

“My Dove is so needy for it, isn’t she?” Aegon coos when your thighs start to tremble.

“You should feel her, brother,” Aemond says, though the words are choppy as they leave his mouth. “She’s so tight— I can barely move—”

Grief sparks in his chest at the bitter reminder that he will never again have you the way his brother has you now. His throat tightens with an emotion he forces himself to choke down. “What does she feel like?” he murmurs pitifully when he struggles to remember.

“Like velvet,” the younger boy answers, punctuated by the dull clapping of his hips meeting your ass. “Like honey. Like sin—” Aemond angles his hips to pierce you deeper. You whine when his thrusts reach an impossible depth.

“How poetic,” Aegon sneers.

“How shall I say it in your language, then, hm?” Aemond manages to tease despite his looming pleasure, which threatens now to strangle him. He tries to keep his face steady despite that as he glares at his brother with his remaining eye, never wavering in his assault on your throbbing pussy. “Her cunt’s milking me dry,” he spits. “I may just breed her yet.”

You’d scold him for speaking over you as if you weren’t there, but you’re much too far gone for that now. His thrusts are steady and measured and merciless. The bulbous head of his cock hits relentlessly at a spongy depth inside you until you have to remind yourself to breathe.

Despite Aegon’s largely bedridden state, he pleasures you with an expert hand just as he always has. His ruthless fingers press hard at your delicate clit until a scream wells in your throat. You grit your teeth to fight it back, but it leaves in a feeble cry anyway.

“Aegon!” you gasp.

“Aw, I know, sweet thing,” Aegon coos. “It’s far too much for you, isn’t it?”

You nod rapidly, with a pout pinching your pretty face. You grip the pillow with one trembling hand and bring the other to his unscarred cheek, cradling him gently there despite the aggressive way Aemond’s fucking you on top of him.

Despite his burns and his bandages and his disfigured features, you look at him the way you always have — like you’ve loved him forever, like you’ve spent entire lifetimes studying his face. The softness in your gaze makes his chest warm like he might cry.

“Do you love me, Dove?” Aegon murmurs.

You nod again, without an ounce of hesitation.

“Then prove it to me,” he whispers, fingers caging your swollen clit. “Make a mess on his cock for me.”

Your orgasm rushes over your body like the waves of a Dornish sea. Like a riptide that pulls you under and under and under. You bury your face in Aegon’s neck while you tremble on top of him, forced to ride through each merciless rush of pleasure.

“Good girl,” you hear Aegon praise with a laugh in your ear, though he sounds much further away than that. “Always so good for me, aren’t you, Dove?”

Aemond can feel every ruthless aftershock as it racks through your body. Your pussy flutters with each of them and leaks more honey that makes his cock glitter in the candlelight. It forces an orgasm from his body despite the heartache ripping through his chest.

He watches you and Aegon share a moment of bone-crushing intimacy while he impales you with his cock. Even while you fuck another, even with the silent understanding that Aegon with never again have you this way, you’re able to share something much deeper than sex.

Despite Aemond’s distant worry that he’ll never understand you in the same way, his orgasm tears through his body.

His hips stutter against your thighs as his cock jerks within your throbbing confines. He thrusts into you once, hard, and then stills against your hips, groaning with each load of cum your velvety cunt milks from him.

Aemond slumps when his cock begins to soften. You rise from Aegon’s neck to sit upright, cupping his cheek in a steady palm while the boy holds your hips in both of his — one smooth and the other scarred.

Aemond’s heaving chest twists with the dagger of self-loathing until you reach blindly for him, too.

Your free hand cradles his marred cheek and urges him closer. He noses at your neck while your mouth grazes his temple — a moment of connection that feels somehow more intimate than his flesh melting with yours.

The three of you bask silently in the honey-lit room, breathing harmoniously together, with candle-like souls that will forever set each other aflame.

Mutual Destruction.

#published by bug #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x you #aegon targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aegon targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aemond x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd x reader #hotd oneshot

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loveinhawkins · 1 year ago

Text

Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.

But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.

They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).

Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.

Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”

“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.

There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.

Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.

“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”

Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.

“How much are we betting?”

Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”

And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.

Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.

“Faster than me? Yeah, maybe in your dreams, Munson,” Steve says.

But Eddie’s already speeding off with a comical whoop; Steve curses as he hurriedly tries to catch up, yelling, “You dick, that’s cheating!”

“Not in my rulebook!” Eddie says with a cackle.

And for a little while, that’s enough to put Robin’s mind at ease: watching the pair of them taunt each other like kids—hearing Nancy laugh at the spectacle as she bikes alongside her.

But then she falls through the Gate, Eddie close behind her, and they freeze when Steve screams Nancy’s name with such fear.

Robin’s plunged back into a mind-numbing panic; she’s sure that her heart doesn’t even begin to slow until they’ve left the trailer park, until Steve’s control of the RV switches from ‘holy shit, we’re on the run, what have our lives become?’ to something more normal—the reliable, measured driving she’s familiar with, taking her to and from school or work.

Finally, she has time to, um… take stock. Of… things.

She wobbles her way over to Eddie, grabbing onto his elbow as Steve takes a turning.

Eddie instantly holds her up, a steadying hand around her waist. “Oh, hi. I’ve gotcha—” “Your music isn’t actually shit,” Robin says in one breath. “I know, um, on balance, it’s probably not the worst thing I could’ve said, but the delivery was—but, you know, considering I thought Nance was literally about to die, I’d say it was, like, kinda calm all things considered, but—”

Eddie’s chuckling. “Yeah, on balance,” he echoes teasingly, “you were pretty damn funny, actually. Uh, sorry for. Um. Screaming at you? Basically?”

“Basically,” Robin agrees. “Yeah, you were like impressively loud. Not quite eardrum-rupturing level, but y’know, I don’t actually know anyone who’s really had that happen to them; Amanda Wallis said she ruptured hers at the pep rally ‘cause she was standing too close to us—the band, I mean, but—”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Oh, that’s bull, there’s no way that’d be loud enough to—”

“—I think she just had a grudge ‘cause David C on mellophone got literally the tiniest bit of spit on her, and he was only—”

“Yeah, well, everyone knows you sit in the splash zone at your own risk.”

“Exactly! She’s had plenty of time to learn marching band protocol.”

“Uh-huh, protocol,” Eddie echoes again, with a giggle.

He’s got a nice kind of laugh, Robin thinks: one where she’s never in doubt that he’s laughing with her rather than at her.

“That stuff you do’s pretty cool,” he says; with his free hand, he actually imitates her mime of playing a trumpet. “You must have good, uh…” She can see the exact moment that he’s having second thoughts about saying it, but he forges ahead anyway, with a hilariously uncertain, “Good… lungs?”

“Fascinating attempt at a compliment,” Robin says. “Luckily for you, I accept insults as, like, equal tokens of friendship.”

Eddie does a double take. He doesn’t go so far as letting out a questioning, “We’re friends?”, but he might as well have said it anyway: his eyes widen for a moment, like someone who’s just been unexpectedly asked out to prom.

Steve takes another turning; he does it smoothly enough, but even he can’t stop the RV from moving with it, and Robin stumbles again, very nearly ends up repeating how she toppled right onto Eddie in The Upside Down.

“Woah there, you’re good,” Eddie says, “just gotta find your, uh, what’s it called? Your equilibrium.”

“I don’t have any,” Robin says, all theatrical devastation, and Eddie snorts.

“Sure you do, Buckley. Look, just take my—yeah, that’s it, then just kinda straighten up… yeah, you’ve got it.”

And yes, after a minute or so, Robin’s footing does feel more certain, but she still keeps a stubborn grip on Eddie’s elbow, just in case.

“God, d’you know what I’m gonna do when all this is over?” Eddie says.

“Pray tell.”

“I’m gonna make a list. What was it you said, Madonna, Blondie…? Whatever, I’m getting all of them, m’never getting caught out like that again.”

“I’m hoping that needing music to evade the clutches of a serial killer from an alternate dimension is, um, strictly a one-time thing.”

“Don’t care,” Eddie says. “Still buying those tapes. Just in case.”

And yeah, it’s said partly in jest, but Robin can hear that he means it. Still, it’s the most optimistic that she’s heard him be so far: making plans for after, like he can really see a way through this. Like maybe he finally knows that they’ll help him get there.

“Need a list of tapes from you too, Buckley. You and Harrington.”

Robin smiles. Her first thought is of singing Total Eclipse of the Heart from the dirt-ridden floor of a mall bathroom, but then she thinks of every car ride with Steve, every time they’ve turned up the radio to belt along, and she knows that there are way too many songs to count.

“Forget a list,” Robin says, “I could fill a book. Same for big boy over there.”

Eddie blinks, like he’s suddenly taking stock, too. “Oh yeah,” he says, laughing lightly, “I did say that, huh?”

“Sure did. I was doubting my ears, too.”

Robin had been hoping they’d long since reached the point of being able to joke around with one another. But while Eddie does laugh again, he also starts biting at his thumbnail, glancing over at Steve in the driver’s seat.

“Um, hey.” Robin manages to keep her balance, briefly pressing her knee against his leg. “I didn’t mean anything by it, Eddie.”

“No, I know.” Eddie huffs self-effacingly. “I’ve kinda got permanent foot-in-mouth disease, my report cards would tell you that.”

Well, if he wants to pass it off as sometimes I just say the darnedest things, Robin would be a hypocrite to deny him.

It fascinates her in a sad sort of way though, how he veers between joking and nervousness—like he’s worried he’s intruding on their group, of overstepping somehow.

She wants to tell him: Look, we all got dragged into this, but we chose to stick around, and you’re no different.

But she no longer has the aftermath of Russian drugs to help bypass her own nerves, to kickstart her sincerity.

“Hey, you’re awfully quiet back there,” Steve calls, and Eddie startles.

Robin shakes her head. “Not us, that’s his—”

“Hello? Henderson, I’m talking to you.”

“We’re not even doing anything!” Dustin shouts back in exaggerated affront.

He’s sat on the backseat of the RV, peering out the window along with Lucas, Erica and Max. Robin stifles a chuckle at the sight; they look like they’re on a field trip—the cool kids at the back of the bus.

“Yeah, well, just checking,” Steve says, amused. “For all I know, you coulda been building a gigantic radio again on, like, the roof of this thing.”

“Cerebro,” Dustin says, just as Eddie lets out a baffled, “Uh, again?”

But then they’re pulling into The War Zone’s parking lot, and any chatter abruptly dies.

Afterwards, Steve gets off the road to park in a reassuringly deserted field. They don’t head outside right away (Robin’s not exactly looking forward to prepping Molotov cocktails), instead staying in the RV to eat junk food they’d grabbed beforehand.

Robin discovers that Dustin’s somehow bought five more cans of Pringles and snorts, declaring, “You’ve got a problem.”

At some point, Steve tries to sneak off to the bathroom so he can change his dressings—“And use actual proper bandages!” Robin calls to him; no offence to Nancy’s resourcefulness, but the torn shirt strips only do so much good.

It becomes a more comical than horrifying event, although she’s sure that’s down to Steve deliberately making it so, like a sleight of hand trick: playing it down as he keeps talking to the kids throughout, never wincing even once.

He ends up having to keep the bathroom door open to continue an argument with Erica over which Scoops Ahoy sundae was the best of all time—then figures that he might as well just step out into the open anyway.

At least the wounds have stopped bleeding—although the sight of Steve cleaning around them with bottled water is one that Robin could personally do without.

The kids are entirely unfazed. They flock to Steve, peering at the glimpses he lets them see like he’s just got a cool tattoo. Robin supposes that after El and whatever nightmare wormy thing was in her leg, they’ve seen everything.

Eddie, however, is another matter. He keeps quiet about it, not obvious at all, but Robin watches his face grow paler and paler before Steve wraps the new bandages around his stomach.

Dustin, bless his precocious little heart, must also notice, because he quickly starts up a seemingly impromptu game of charades, meaning that Eddie is soon distracted by his ridiculously over the top gestures.

“No, Steve, how are you not getting this?”

“I thought the whole appeal of this game was that you’re not meant to talk, Henderson. Dude, watch it, you nearly took Max’s eye out with… whatever the hell that was.”

“Oh my god, it’s Back to the Future, obviously! Ow, Max, I didn’t mean to—uh, yeah, the mime needs to be that big, how else am I gonna project what—”

“Dustin, I swear to god, I’m about to project you out the window,” Steve drawls.

Eddie laughs, hides it behind his hand.

But Steve must catch it, because he glances over at Eddie and winks before he’s dragged back into guessing another movie title.

And Robin’s obviously seen Steve wink before—he does it all the time, so much so that she’s become quite adept at reading when it’s a friendly one for her, or if he’s sharing some kind of in-joke with one of the kids.

She’s also seen his attempts at a ‘smooth’ wink towards some girls at work—and look, he’s Steve Harrington, it’s not like he’s going to be bad at it.

But if you ask Robin, it’s never looked quite right, like he’s always performing to an audience he’s unsure of.

But this wink doesn’t look like it belongs to either of those categories. Well, it’s got something in common with the first: that it looks entirely natural, as if he’s doing it almost without thinking. Like it just feels right.

They go through some more rounds of charades—Dustin’s gestures, if possible, getting even more dramatic—and Eddie gradually goes from contributing a few guesses to none at all, curling up on the backseat. He looks utterly wiped out.

Robin tries to catch Nancy’s eye, and after a few attempts, she gets the message, stands up with a nod.

“Okay, let’s take this outside, guys.”

“Spoken like a true camp counsellor,” Max says.

Nancy acts like she’s offended, but her lips keep twitching into a smile. “Max, never say that to me again.”

“There’s more space outside,” Erica says, “so we can duck out the way of Dustin’s windmilling arms.”

“Hey!”

“I’m bored of charades,” Lucas says. “We could do another competition? Like, I dunno, cartwheels or handstands or something?”

“Oh sure, so I can show you up?” Max returns, grinning.

Steve scoffs. “Uh, if you’re doing a cartwheel competition, I would win.”

“Since when?” Dustin says, an obvious taunt that Steve predictably rises to, flipping him off.

“Save your athletics for Vecna, please,” Nancy cuts in dryly.

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight.” Lucas gestures to Steve’s stomach, a little uncertainly. “You know, considering…”

Steve rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Under normal circumstances, I would kick all your asses.”

“Sure,” Robin says brightly, “but Steve, if you do literally anything more strenuous than sitting down right now, I’m gonna—”

“Uh, Steve would kick your asses, actually,” Eddie says slowly. His voice is muffled from the way his hand’s holding up his chin, partly covering his mouth. “He did gymnastics.”

Robin, surprised, looks to Steve; he’s doing that thing where he scratches at his cheek unconsciously, seems to be a mixture of embarrassed and pleased.

“How’d you know that?” he asks.

Eddie shrugs. “We didn’t have a cover for gym one time, remember? There was a whole group of us slacking off but you just kept doing, y’know,” he twirls his fingers, “tricks on that box thingy.”

“Vaulting box,” Steve corrects like he can’t stop himself. He’s sporting an almost abashed little smile that Robin’s never seen before.

Eddie shrugs again. “S’all Greek to me,” he says, interrupts himself halfway through with a deep yawn.

Steve’s eyes soften. And then he’s ushering the kids outside, “C’mon, you can do whatever competition you want for thirty minutes before we get to work.”

“Got it, coach.”

“Shut up, Mayfield.”

“I’ll be your stopwatch if you’re doing handstands,” Nancy chips in, bringing up the rear—she catches Robin’s eye again, subtly tilts her head in Eddie’s direction and mouths Stay?

Robin nods.

“Uh, that won’t be accurate at all,” comes Dustin’s rebuttal—he’s outside now, but his voice still carries. “Unless you can like accurately keep time in your head down to the second—”

“Oh my god, Dustin, you’re such a shithead.”

“Nancy Wheeler, I’m heartbroken.”

Steve’s chuckle floats through the open door. “She said it, dude, not me.”

“You say it all the goddamn time!”

And then the voices fade away until all Robin can hear is distant laughs and joyful screams. It’s relaxing, in its own way.

“No gymnastics for you, Buckley?” Eddie says.

“Nope, not since 7th grade. Managed two cartwheels before I broke my wrist.”

Eddie winces in sympathy. He’s slumping a bit more; Robin makes herself comfy in the opposite corner of the backseat, gives him the most space.

She feels a weird lump at her back, behind one of the cushions. A quick investigation reveals an issue of TV Guide Magazine.

“Ooh, we can find out what we missed while on the run,” she says, waggling it in front of Eddie.

He smiles with a small huff. “Doubt it. Says 1981 on the front.”

“What’s a little more time travel?”

Robin flicks through to the crossword. She’s all too aware that Eddie’s still sat more stiffly than anything else. With Steve, it would be so easy; she could prod him in the thigh with her toe, light touches until he took the hint and relaxed.

But even before they’d really become friends, they were tactile: a tap on the shoulder to grab attention, bumping hips to move each other out of the way whenever they were scooping ice-cream at the same time. It’d been done so unconsciously, like they were already learning to read each other’s minds.

With Eddie, it’s clear that a different approach is needed.

Robin had caught onto that after her misstep at the boathouse, a pit in her stomach at the sight of Eddie’s hands shaking.

But her instinct to reach out, to soothe, made her unthinkingly try again; as they walked in the woods, she’d heard his breathing quicken, and her hand lightly brushed his back. She drew back as he instantly flinched at her touch.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said hurriedly. “Just—just checking you were okay. Sorry.”

Eddie just stared at her before nodding hesitantly.

And Robin wanted to tell him that it wasn’t by chance, that he had people who cared about him; that she did, and it wasn’t a fluke or an accident—she was choosing it.

She keeps her eyes on the magazine, jots down a few crossword answers. It reminds her of summer days spent reading on her grandparents’ porch, not wanting to startle a cat her grandpa had rescued as it approached her. It was always so spooked.

“You’ve just gotta let him come to you, sweet pea,” her grandma would say.

After a couple minutes, she hears Eddie breathe out, the creak of the seat as he lies down. He rests his head right next to her thigh.

“S’good?” he asks, pointing at the magazine.

“It’s pretty easy.” One of the crossword clues is ‘The Lion, the Witch, and the?’ which isn’t exactly taxing. “I’m used to doing the cryptic ones.”

Eddie laughs. He kinda sounds fond. “Of course you are.”

“They’re not that hard, once you know how to read ‘em.”

“Hmm, I doubt that. Lay one on me, Buckley.”

She purses her lips in thought. “Oh, I got this one last week. Condition of Wyoming, five letters.”

Eddie lifts his head ever so slightly to give her a blank look. “Not a fucking clue.”

“State. Get it? ��Cause ‘condition’ is the definition, and Wyoming is literally—”

“God, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”

“Well, I’ve got the advantage of a summer of code-breaking.”

Robin slowly raises her hand as she speaks—makes sure to do it in Eddie’s line of vision, spots that he doesn’t pull back, that he even gives the tiniest half-nod. She pats his head twice.

Eddie scrunches up his nose. “Sorry, my hair’s gross.”

“It’s not that bad,” Robin says honestly. “Y’know for being on the run, it’s holding up pretty well. I’m getting whatever shampoo you use.”

Eddie smiles. “Sure.”

“Yours is looking way better than mine did after, like, one day getting wrapped up in all this.” Again, without really thinking, Robin adds, “I had all this sweat and blood and puke in it.”

Eddie’s eyes are closed now. He makes an unhappy sound, prods gently at her knee. “You’ve all gotta work on telling me horrific shit. That should not be casual for you, Buckley.”

He sounds emphatic—protective, even. Robin feels unexpectedly emotional.

“Yeah, sorry. Bad habit.”

Silence falls, and by the time Steve enters the RV, Robin has filled in the whole crossword, Eddie dozing by her side.

Steve’s getting another bottle of water—actually drinking it this time. He’s got grass stains on his knees, and he’s sweating slightly, like the ‘stay still’ advice hasn’t once been taken.

His eyes soften again when he sees Eddie sleeping—he doesn’t need to linger, but he does.

Robin watches.

We need more time, Steve, she thinks suddenly. For you to keep looking at him like that—for him to be awake to see it.

Steve tears his eyes away. Lands on her.

She smiles, mouthing What?

Steve rolls his eyes. He imitates her ‘what?’ mockingly, but then he smiles back and taps at his wrist, mimes winding a watch on. It’s what they do whenever they’re slammed at work, wanting to talk, but only able to briefly catch each other’s eyes in the rush. Later.

She taps her wrist. Later, she promises.

He gives her a double thumbs up—what a dork—before heading back outside.

Robin quietly puts the magazine away. Ever so carefully, she lightly strokes Eddie’s hair, feels her heart swell and break at the same time when he sighs contentedly in his sleep.

You’d better look after yourself, Eddie Munson, she thinks. You’ve got people here. People who really want you to stick around.

#on newly forming friendships and love ❤️#eddie and robin #robin buckley fic #eddie munson fic #pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve and the party #steve and dustin #robin buckley #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve and robin #eddie and robin fic

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verstarppen · 1 year ago

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˗ˏˋ MASTERLIST ˎˊ˗

the pit stop for all your reading needs !

mv33 ｡⋆˚ max verstappen

max and the three musketeers — mercedes is a just a tiny bit worried about your dates with their archenemesis

ln4 ⋆⭒˚ lando norris

in a galaxy far, far away — there's little time between fast cars and spaceships, but you make it work

op81 ✩°˖ oscar piastri

[ WIP ] atalanta and hippomenes — your father is eager to marry you off, but you're not putting the ring for a man who can't beat you in a race

mv33 ｡⋆˚ max verstappen

best trophy in your showcase — cheaters deserve to get cheated out of their career, or at least that's how max justifies destroying your ex's life

cl16 ☾⋆˚ charles leclerc

oh no he's hot — your comic book signing takes a turn when a fan walks in wearing a t-shirt with a poorly photoshopped "charles lechair" or wheover that is [ WIP ] caramel splotches — charles makes an oddly specific reference to your youtube channel just once, but the internet decides to internet [ WIP ] apricot bowls — there's nothing charles wants more than to win a championship, but you, the baby and the cottage are a close second [ WIP ] beef? she's a vegetarian — no one could've possibly predicted the real reason why charles made a joke that he'll join eurovision 2024...but you do, and so does your ex

ls2 ✮⁺₊ logan sargeant

behind open doors — the relationship isn't as secretive as you think it is. texan egg hunt — the ricciardo urge to be obsessed with america takes a whole new meaning when your relationship with the only american on the grid is revealed...because of kinder eggs glitter bomb — logan has a very special helmet reveal on instagram to celebrate your olympics gold metal and a scavenger hunt seems like the appropriate way to reveal it to you she's everything, he's just logan — not to flex, but how many f1 drivers can say they're dating a princess?

gr63 ˖♡𓍢ִ໋ george russell

get on with the show... — mercedes have a strict policy regarding office romance, but that can't stop Totally Spies because they can't read

ll40 ⭒𓈒ㅤׂ liam lawson

[ WIP ] roller skate paparazzi — the guy you've been flirting with on the roller skate rink conveniently left out the part where he's super fucking famous

op81 ✩°˖ oscar piastri

[ WIP ] fly me to the moon — the world hadn't seen chaos until you parked a miniplane in the pit lane to bring your boyfriend lunchables [ WIP ] blueberry pastries — the mclaren and williams admins love taking advantage of the fact that you and oscar only seem to look like you're not absolutely miserable on camera when you're together meddle about — the singapore heat can't kill you, but the sight of him sweaty and disheveled just might

lh44 ౨ৎ ₊˚⊹ lewis hamilton

[ WIP ] vassastrophe — it'll take awhile for ferrari to adjust to lewis, and if that doesn't stress frédéric vasseur enough, the reveal of who his daughter's been seeing surely will

ln4 ⋆⭒˚ lando norris

[ WIP ] just a couple of besties — the king of spoilers himself, lando "oh is it confirmed?" norris, reveals to the whole world he has a girlfriend...and not a soul believes him. [ WIP ] el pollo verde — lando's obsession with studying spanish to impress fernando goes off and on track

dr3 ‧₊˚ daniel ricciardo

[ WIP ] you, me, and franz kafka — danny ric doesn't understand how a book about a guy turning into a insect can be interesting, but if it makes his girlfriend happy he'll read it- and maybe melt a few fans' hearts along the way

yt22 ★⋆.⁺ yuki tsunoda

cheap tricks on route 66 — losing a bag at a out-of-city gas station with an etched phone number seems a little too convenient doesn't it?

ms47 ❀˖˙⊹ mick schumacher

count me in — slowly but surely that fake dating plan you cooked up starts leaving its confined lines

last updated: 9/10/2024

#masterlist #f1 smau #f1 #f1 x reader

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sakuralovespossums · 1 month ago

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Ever since I watched Randomalistic’s Turbo/King Candy video, I’ve been sinking back into my Wreck it Ralph hyperfixation which then made me come up with a crack au of dad Turbo

Like imagine if Turbo never went…..well…..turbo and his game remained plugged in the arcade with Felix over the years. He’s still an egotistic asshole but isn’t as murderous like in the film and sees himself as a role model/inspiration for the newer racing game characters.

But then Sugar Rush is plugged in and he now has a little hell spawn rival who is Princess Vanellope. She’s just as cocky as he is and they’re always spitting insults at each other with the little racer calling him “grandpa” and “bug face”. To her, it’s all fun and games while Turbo is so done with her!

But then he notices her racing and realizes she actually has skills. Maybe not as good as his (no one can ever be better than him) but still impressive. So he gives her tips on how to improve her speed, perform tricks, drive dirty and rough, etc. and then eventually bringing her to practice on his track in his game. Everyone is so astonished by this. Turbo not only openly acknowledging another racer but also teaching them?!

Whether they realize it or not, they develop a mentor/student or pseudo-father/daughter dynamic that has everyone in the arcade giggling at how funny and kinda endearing it is.

Every time Vanellope wins a race, Turbo brags about it to everyone, saying how “She learnt that from me!” And “Of course she won! I’m her teacher after all!!”

He is the ultimate soccer mom who brags nonstop about his winner child and is such a bad role model (encourages cheating and being a show-off) and always spoils her

#wreck it ralph #sugar rush #vanellope von schweetz #wir vanellope #turbo wreck it ralph #turbo wir #turbotastic #disney #turbo

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c0smicst4rdust · 6 months ago

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Francis Mosses (Milkman) X Fem reader

🔞

TW!: Oral sex, cheating (slightly mentioned), minimal aggression/hardcore, use of y/n, dom partner, cum play, wall sex.

Word count: 1,221k

this took over a week enjoy😭

LEAVE ANY FEEDBACK IN COMMENTS AND MY ASKS ARE OPEN

“Can this job get anymore boring”. I think to myself as someone walks in. I sit up straight and look to find out who's there, it's Mia and something seems off about her appearance, but I can't pinpoint exactly what it is.

“I need your entry request and id, you're not on today's list”. She seemed to be zoned out on something behind me. “Excuse me, Ma’am” I say in a deep nasty tone, she looks at me blankly and I say “Sorry, that was so unprofessional of me. I'm tired, May i have your id and entry request”

. She keeps the same expression and hands me the stuff out of her purse without opening her mouth. And there it was, a typo and past expiration date right on her id. I lock the door without hesitating and call the D.D.D… “Protocol Completed”.

I sit back in my chair and feel a little vibration on my butt. It was my phone ringing from a text notification from my boyfriend. “Y/n where are you?”. The text seemed bolder than the rest and I feel as if I can almost hear him right next to me.

Another person walks in, i didn't even need to think twice that sexy walk and hot body told you all you needed to know. It was Francis of course, the sexy milkman everyone was simping over. I can't blame them, the man is perfect.

He walks up to me with 8 jugs of milk in his right hand, his left already handing me an id “Hello, Francis.” I admire his face right in front of me. “Hello Darling '' he says, shooting me a wink. I feel my heart drop and try to keep my jaw from hitting the desk. He could tell I was surprised, he then said “ Sorry, I didn't mean to make you shy, princess”. He said unbuttoning the first button on his shirt staring deeply at me with those hot tired brown eyes.

I literally couldn't speak. I didn't know what to reply to that. “Let me in, you wont regret it.” Without blinking I opened the door. “Good girl” he says as he walks out of my view. Why did I let him go like that? I feel so stup- my thoughts are interrupted by the office door swinging open. And there Francis was again leaning on the door frame.

He walks over to me and lifts my chin so my eyes meet his “be careful who you let it in '' he says before lifting me and pinning me to the wall. I then feel my heart racing, feeling as if it'll pop straight out of my chest. I then say “what are you doing to me”

I wasn't trying to get out of his grasp. I just struggled to find out why the hell this hot man has me pinned. “I'm going to make you cum” he says, kissing my neck up to my cheek and back down to my neck again. I couldnt believe what he just said, he wants to fuck me? No, I must have fallen asleep.

I feel my shirt get ripped off of me then I see it fly to the floor. Staring at my titties he starts unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his boxers, a large king size erect dick dripping with precum is there waiting for something good to happen. “Get on your knees fruit cup” Francis then says and without a second thought i was on my knees jerking him slow but tight.

Small groans are mumbled out of his mouth as he slowly spits out “Good… girl-” I then put the tip of his 11 inch cock in my mouth licking his slit as I play with his balls. He throws his head back and moans as I put it deeper in my mouth.

A thick line of cum then squirts out his throbbing tip “FUCK” he moans out of breath. I then get up, unbutton his shirt and take it off of him and pull him to the office chair. I sat down as he kneeled down in front of me lifting my legs above his shoulders. He chuckles at the sight of my wet panties and starts rubbing my clit with his thumb.

He lifts my ass off the chair to take my panties off. He puts two fingers in my hole slowly but hard, I then try and pull back biting my lip as he starts licking away at my pussy. “You’re not going anywhere my love. Sit back and enjoy yourself” he starts back at my clit as i start moaning. I'm losing my virginity to what seems to be a monster right now. What will my boyfriend think about this if he found out? What if he gets me pregnant? It's ok though, at least he's hot.

He starts speeding up and it forces me to roll my eyes to the back of my head and moan louder. “Baby. P-please stop.'' I beg softly. He chuckles and mumbles “why” as he continues to flick his tongue on my clit. “Daddy. Really stop, I'm about to cum… FUCK” i scream “babe i really cant take it any longer”

He ignores me and goes faster. I then start squirting all over his face. “BABY STOP I CAN'T-” “Ok, just because I'm ready to put it in”. He licked it one more time then kissed it and I stood up fast. I saw his face covered in my juices, he licked his lips while staring deeply at me “you taste very good babe”. “Mm yea i try to keep it that way”

I jump in his arms and wrap my legs around his waist. “Are you really Francis or am I just fucking a fraud?”. “Come on baby does it matter, we've come so far, and so much” he said with a big grin. Then slams me into the wall and positions his dick into my pussy. He then fucks me so hard it felt like my pussy was going to explode. He groaned deep but loud, as i was trying not to scream and push. “Fuck daddy harder”. “Oh you like that? Let's get this done with, I need sleep to work again in the morning.”.

He then speeds up a couple seconds later at inhuman speeds and it forces me to scream “FRANCIS BABY PLEASE DON'T STOP I NEED YOU TO CUM I DONT EVEN CARE IF YOU GET ME PREGNANT”. “Oh baby trust me I'm not stopping ‘till you're filled to the brim in my cum”.

A few seconds later another load comes out fast in me and on my stomach and titties as I wipe my tears away. he put me down and we start getting dressed. "you never answered my question, are you Francis Mosses or a doppelgangger?". he hands me a note with his personal cell number and says "I hope this answers all your questions. come to my place after work tommorow and we'll go again" he give me a kiss and walks out the door winking.

What the actual fuck just happened? I check my phone and to 10 missed calls and 17 unread messages from me boyfriend. i might end this relationship for my new sexy milkman.

#francis mosses x you #tnmn milkman #that’s not my neighbor #animation #smut #milkman #milkman smut #francis mosses #thats not my neighbor #thats not my neighbour milkman

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sherewrytes · 1 month ago

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Half crazy, Toji x reader

↳ Toji Fushiguro x f! black reader

REBLOGS HELP ENGAGEMENT

summary. You were always told by your family to stay out of trouble, get your degree, get a good job, and live a good life. Simple rules to follow. You somehow caught the eye of probably the most problematic person in your university but why did it intrigue you to find out more about him.

Toji Zenin/Fushiguro saw you for the first time strolling past him and his friends in front of the university's library. Something about you drew him in. He never saw someone like you before, focused, poised and dedicated to their degree. Always in the library or hanging out with friends, not really partying much. He wondered when curiosity would get the better of him to approach you, but he knew the life he lived would be too problematic for someone as sweet as you.

genre: heavy angst, modern au, 18+, explicit smut, dark romance,

Mafia Au, street racer au, dark romance au

character lookbook

fic warnings. ooc, profanity, mental health issues, toxic relationships, cheating, explicit smut, drug use, mentions of depression + more to be updated as story progresses.

Please read with proper discretion. this is a work of fiction. all characters are written to portray roles that are necessary to the plot and are in no way a reflection of their canon counterparts.

READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION

Taglist: (you can comment to be added)

@sparkling-obsidian @queendessi24 @masterofthepp @thedondiva45

Previous Next

Chapter: Racing Shadows

The streets buzzed with tension as the underground scene reached fever pitch. The scent of rubber and gasoline hung in the air, mixing with the hum of engines revving and the low chatter of spectators. It wasn’t just any race night—tonight, the stakes were higher, and reputations were on the line. Toji Zenin’s crew was about to go head-to-head with Hiromi Higuruma’s squad, a rising force on the circuit.

Toji stood by his black 1979 Dodge Charger, white neon lights flickering beneath it. The beast was all muscle, just like the man himself. Tattoos snaked down Toji’s arms, and his eyes were fixed on the crowd. Somewhere out there, Y/n was watching. He’d spotted her earlier, and his jaw had tightened, though he’d tried to play it off. He wasn’t about to show weakness in front of the crew or, worse, Hiromi.

Hiromi Higuruma stepped out of his blood-red Ferrari F12 Berlinetta, a confident smirk playing on his lips. His ride was a monster, all sleek curves and roaring power, but Hiromi was the real threat tonight. The man exuded arrogance, as if every win was already guaranteed. Dressed sharp as always, Hiromi’s eyes landed on Toji, narrowing as he walked over.

“Zenin,” Hiromi’s voice dripped with disdain. “You ready to finally lose that rust bucket? Or are we going to pretend you’re still the king of the streets?”

Toji exhaled smoke from his cigarette, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “ Rust bucket, are you a fucking 5 year old, try harder with the insults. We’ll see who’s still standing by the end of the night, Higuruma. You sure you can handle it?”

Hiromi chuckled darkly, stepping closer, his voice low and taunting. “Handle it? Please. I’ve been handling everything—money, cars... women.” He paused, locking eyes with Toji. “Though, from what I hear, you’ve been slacking on that last part. You got eyes for one girl, but I haven’t seen you make a move. What’s the matter, Zenin? Can’t close the deal?”

Toji’s jaw clenched. Y/n had been the only one he cared to look at, but Hiromi’s words hit a nerve, one he didn’t want exposed in front of the crew. Sukuna, leaning against his blood-red Chevy Camaro, shot a glance at Toji, sensing the rising tension.

Hiromi kept going, his voice louder now, trying to rile Toji up. “What’s wrong? You’re afraid? Because the way I see it, all you do is stare. No approach, no talk. Is that your game now? Losing it with cars, losing it with women?”

Toji’s cigarette dropped from his lips, his fists tightening. Before anyone could blink, he was inches from Hiromi, nostrils flaring. “Watch your mouth, Higuruma, or I’ll shut it for you right here.”

The crowd quieted, eyes widening as the tension crackled between the two racers. Gojo, ever the joker, stepped forward with a grin. “Relax, Toji. Hiromi’s just bitter ‘cause he thinks he’s hot, but no one actually wants him.”

Hiromi’s eyes flicked to Gojo, but he wasn’t backing down from Toji. “Oh, I’m sorry, did I hit a nerve? Seems like your boy over here just confirmed it. Maybe after I take your car tonight, I’ll take the girl too.”

Toji lunged, grabbing Hiromi by the collar, ready to throw a punch. The crew moved fast—Geto, Sukuna, and Gojo pulling Toji back while Panda and Nanami stepped in to hold Hiromi. The energy was electric, and it felt like a fight was moments away from breaking out.

“Save it for the track!” Geto snapped, his voice cutting through the chaos. “We’re here to race, not brawl.”

Hiromi straightened his shirt, his smirk never faltering. “Yeah, Zenin, listen to your crew. You’d need them after I beat you anyway.”

Toji glared, seething. “You want to raise the stakes, Hiromi? Fine. Pink slips.”

The crowd gasped. This wasn’t just a race anymore—it was a declaration of war. Racing for pink slips meant losing your car if you didn’t win, and with cars as custom and expensive as these, that was everything.

Hiromi’s grin grew wider. “Now we’re talking. But just so you know, Zenin, after I win your car, I’ll put it to good use. Probably better than you ever could.”

Toji’s smile was sharp, dangerous. “You better pray you’re fast enough.”

Hiromi leaned in. “Always am.”

Race 1: Gojo Satoru vs. Kento Nanami

The first race was Gojo against Nanami, and the tension was palpable. Gojo, all smiles, pulled his baby blue Mazda RX-8 to the start line. His white hair practically glowed under the streetlights, and he shot Nanami a playful wink. “You ready to get smoked, Nami?”

Nanami, leaning against his sleek black Porsche 911 Turbo S, didn’t even respond. He was all business, adjusting his sleeves and climbing into the driver’s seat without a word. His car was a silent killer—sleek, powerful, and devastatingly fast.

As the light flashed green, both cars roared to life. Gojo’s Mazda took off like a rocket, zipping around the first corner with ease. His grin widened as he weaved through traffic, laughing to himself. But Nanami was calm, composed, and relentless. His Porsche moved like a panther stalking its prey, never too far behind, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Gojo’s hands moved fluidly, switching gears, his confidence unshakable. But on the final straight, Nanami closed the gap, his Porsche’s power surging forward. It was neck and neck as they approached the finish line, but Gojo’s laugh echoed as he barely edged out the win.

“Close one, Nami!” Gojo called, leaning out his window, though Nanami’s stoic expression didn’t falter.

Race 2: Suguru Geto vs. Toge Inumaki

Next up was Geto versus Inumaki. Geto slid into his yellow and black Nissan Primera GT, the green neon lights casting a ghostly glow beneath the car. Inumaki, his face tattoos glowing under the streetlights, pulled up in his dark green Mitsubishi Eclipse, the car’s wide body kit giving it an aggressive edge.

Inumaki’s hands gripped the wheel tightly, his eyes focused ahead. He was new to the scene, but everyone knew he had potential. The light flicked green, and Geto’s Primera shot forward, the engine howling as he took an early lead.

Inumaki followed closely, his Eclipse cornering sharply, though Geto’s experience gave him the edge. Inumaki’s focus was fierce, his tattoos and piercings giving him an intimidating look as he raced, but Geto was smooth, taking corners like a dancer, always a step ahead.

In the end, Geto crossed the finish line first, but Inumaki wasn’t far behind. “Not bad, kid,” Geto smirked as he pulled up next to him, and Inumaki nodded, his face unreadable.

Race 3: Sukuna Ryomen vs. Panda

Sukuna was up next, and his blood-red Chevy Camaro looked like a beast ready to devour the streets. Across from him, Panda, with his massive build and double-sleeved tattoos, slid into his blacked-out Dodge Challenger. Gold cuffs glinted on his wrists as he revved the engine, the roar echoing through the lot.

Sukuna grinned. “Let’s see what the new guy’s got.”

The race began with a thunderous start, Sukuna’s Camaro exploding off the line with raw power. But Panda’s Challenger wasn’t far behind, the massive car barreling forward with surprising speed. Panda’s calm demeanor didn’t match the intensity of his car, but his control was impeccable.

Sukuna’s grin widened as he pushed the Camaro to its limits, weaving through the course with reckless abandon. Panda followed, his Challenger staying close, but Sukuna’s experience won out. As they crossed the finish line, Sukuna let out a whoop of victory.

“Not bad, big guy,” Sukuna called out. Panda, ever the silent type, simply nodded.

Race 4: Toji Zenin vs. Hiromi Higuruma

Finally, it was time for the main event: Toji versus Hiromi. Toji stepped into his black Dodge Charger, the white neon lights flickering ominously beneath it. Hiromi, across from him, sat in his Ferrari F12, its blood-red body gleaming under the streetlights.

Toji’s face was set, jaw clenched as he revved the engine. This wasn’t just about the race anymore—it was personal. Hiromi had thrown too many insults, and Toji wasn’t about to let him get away with it.

Hiromi’s smirk hadn’t faltered. “Better say goodbye to that Charger, Zenin. It’ll look better in my garage.”

“Keep dreaming,” Toji growled.

The light flashed green, and both cars roared to life. The race was on.

The moment the light flashed green, the sound of tires screeching and engines roaring filled the night air. Toji’s Charger took off like a bullet, but Hiromi’s Ferrari was right on his tail,

a sleek red blur chasing the massive black muscle car through the neon-lit streets. Both cars thundered down the highway, weaving through the urban landscape at breakneck speeds.

Toji gripped the wheel, his hands steady, eyes razor-focused on the road ahead. The raw power of his Charger reverberated through his body, the engine growling as he pushed it harder.

This wasn’t just about racing anymore; this was about showing Hiromi, the crew, and especially Y/n, that no one could touch him—not on the streets, not anywhere.

Hiromi, in his Ferrari, was grinning like a madman. His sleek, custom-built machine cut through the air with a deadly precision, roaring behind Toji.

Hiromi’s confidence was palpable as he drew closer to Toji, pushing the Ferrari to its limits. He flicked his eyes to the side mirror, watching Toji's Charger devour the road ahead.

"You’re slipping, Zenin!" Hiromi shouted through his open window, his voice taunting, carried by the rush of wind. "You drive like you fight—sloppy and slow!"

Toji didn’t take the bait, but the fury in his chest burned hotter. He pushed his Charger even harder, the custom-built engine roaring with every shift of the gears. His knuckles whitened on the wheel, his jaw locked in determination.

Hiromi swerved up alongside Toji, their cars nearly kissing as they raced through a tight alley. The Ferrari’s sleek frame allowed it to glide with ease, but Toji’s Charger was a beast, chewing up the pavement as he powered through the turns. Hiromi’s laughter echoed across the alley as he pulled ahead slightly, his red Ferrari glinting under the streetlights.

"Guess I’ll be taking that Charger home tonight," Hiromi mocked, his voice dripping with arrogance. "Maybe I’ll even take the girl too. She deserves a real man."

Toji’s teeth ground together. His muscles tightened as Hiromi’s words fueled his fire. Y/n flashed in his mind, her eyes on him earlier tonight. She’d watched him, and in that moment, Toji knew he couldn’t lose. Not to this prick.

Without warning, Toji slammed his foot on the accelerator, the Charger’s powerful engine snarling as he surged forward. The gap between their cars closed in an instant, and Hiromi’s smirk vanished, replaced with shock as Toji pulled ahead.

"You’re not taking anything, Hiromi," Toji growled, eyes locked on the road as he took a sharp corner, his Charger sliding sideways with precision, drifting flawlessly. The tires screeched against the asphalt, sending sparks flying into the night air.

Hiromi’s Ferrari struggled to follow Toji’s aggressive moves, and for the first time in the race, doubt flickered in his eyes. Toji’s car was a monster, devouring every turn, every straightaway, with ferocious speed.

From the sidelines, the crowd roared in approval, the energy electric. Gojo, Sukuna, and Geto watched intently, knowing this race was more than just about cars—it was about pride, respect, and dominance.

"Toji’s got this," Gojo smirked, leaning against his RX-8, arms crossed. "Hiromi’s not ready."

Sukuna exhaled a cloud of smoke, his eyes following Toji’s Charger as it surged ahead. "He better be. That Ferrari’s not playing around."

Back on the road, Toji took another sharp corner, the Charger roaring as it bolted down the final straightaway. Hiromi, desperate, pushed the Ferrari to its absolute limit, trying to catch up, but it wasn’t enough. Toji’s skill, his raw determination, and the power of his custom Charger were too much.

As the finish line approached, the crowd leaned in, holding their breath. The neon lights from both cars flashed as they tore through the final stretch, but it was Toji’s Charger that crossed first, Hiromi’s Ferrari trailing behind by mere inches.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. Toji let out a breath, feeling the adrenaline still coursing through his veins as he slowed his car, pulling it to a stop. Hiromi skidded to a halt beside him, fury etched across his face.

Toji climbed out of his Charger, his expression cool and composed. Hiromi, on the other hand, slammed his door shut, his pride in tatters. The tension between them hadn’t diminished, and it was clear that things were far from over.

"You got lucky, Zenin," Hiromi sneered, stepping closer to Toji. "Next time, I’ll bury you. And we race for pink slips again—because I want that Charger."

Toji turned, his gaze cold, his voice low and lethal. "You don’t stand a chance. But if you want another shot at getting humiliated, I’m all for it."

Before Hiromi could respond, Gojo strolled over, grinning. "What’s this, boys? Another rematch already? Damn, Zenin, you really don’t let these guys breathe."

Hiromi glared at Gojo but kept his focus on Toji. "Next time, Zenin, I’ll take everything from you."

Toji smirked, leaning against his Charger, eyes gleaming with confidence. "You couldn’t take it if I gift-wrapped it for you."

The crowd began to disperse, the adrenaline still pulsing in the air as the racers regrouped. Y/n stood at a distance, her eyes fixed on Toji, who caught her gaze for a brief moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.

Hiromi stalked back to his Ferrari, his crew following behind, but the tension between him and Toji lingered like a storm cloud, promising that this rivalry was far from over.

Toji’s POV:

The race had been a rush, but now that it was over, Toji leaned against his Charger, the heat from the engine warming his back as he took a slow drag from his cigarette. The smoke curled from his lips, drifting into the cool night air, mixing with the distant cheers and hum of conversations around the lot. His eyes flickered toward Sukuna, who was sitting on the hood of Gojo’s RX-8, rolling up another joint with meticulous precision. The whole crew was there, unwinding after the adrenaline-fueled race.

Toji’s mind was still buzzing. Hiromi's words replayed in his head, especially the part about taking everything from him—including her. His jaw clenched slightly, but he masked it with another pull from his cigarette. He wasn’t going to let Hiromi—or anyone—get under his skin. But Y/n… she’d been watching, he could feel it. Every time he was around, he caught her eyes on him, just like his had been on her since that first time outside the library.

Gojo’s loud laugh snapped him out of his thoughts. The man was standing a few feet away, chatting up some girls who had stuck around after the race. Typical. Geto was nearby, doing the same, his relaxed posture oozing charm as he leaned in to talk to one of the girls, a grin tugging at his lips. Meanwhile, Choso rolled up late, as usual, pulling up on his custom motorbike with a low growl. He parked and swung his leg off, the gold accents on the sleek black bike gleaming under the neon lights.

"Why is she walking over here?" Choso asked, nodding in the direction of Mei Mei, who had just broken off from Y/n and Shoko. The rest of the guys followed his gaze.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, already grinning as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "Shit, hide your wallets, boys. She smells money from miles away."

Toji’s eyes shifted, narrowing slightly as Mei Mei strutted toward them with her usual confidence. And, as if it were instinct, his gaze flickered past her, locking onto Y/n who was standing a distance away with Shoko. She looked good—too good, even in the simple outfit she had on. His cigarette paused mid-air as his eyes lingered just a little too long. He forced himself to focus back on Mei Mei when Gojo's voice rang out again, teasing.

"Yo, isn’t that Y/n’s friend?" Choso asked as he parked his bike and sauntered over to the group.

Toji straightened, keeping his face neutral, but he knew what was coming. Damn Gojo. The guy always had a knack for turning the spotlight on Toji when he least wanted it.

Mei Mei arrived, glancing around the group before her eyes settled on Toji, her usual cool demeanor not faltering even for a second. "So, Toji," she started, her voice casual but carrying an edge of curiosity. "You gonna tell me what’s the deal with you eyeing up Y/n everywhere, or what?"

The group erupted in laughter, Sukuna shaking his head as he exhaled a puff of smoke. Geto chuckled, leaning back against the wall with a knowing grin.

Toji took a slow drag from his cigarette, playing it off, exhaling the smoke in a lazy stream. "What are you talking about?" he said smoothly, though his heart skipped a beat. His eyes darted briefly toward Y/n again—bad move.

Gojo was on it in a second.

"Ohhh, Toji’s playin’ dumb now, huh?" Gojo piped up with a smirk. "Come on, man. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you checking her out at every turn." He nudged Sukuna, who snickered beside him, still focused on rolling his joint.

"Maybe he’s just shy, y’know?" Geto added with mock seriousness, shooting a wink in Toji’s direction.

Toji shot Gojo a glare. Bastard. He tried to play it cool, leaning back against his car with a shrug, tapping the ashes of his cigarette. "You all got nothing better to do than gossip like high schoolers?"

"Hey, no judgment," Gojo teased, his grin widening. "I’m just saying, if you’re gonna keep staring, might as well make a move, man. Y/n’s right over there."

Toji felt his pulse quicken, but he wasn’t about to let Gojo get the satisfaction. "Fuck off," he muttered, taking another drag from his cigarette as he side-eyed Gojo. The group continued to laugh, but Toji’s gaze inevitably drifted toward Y/n again.

Y/n’s POV:

Y/n could feel eyes on her before she even looked up. The race had been exciting—chaotic, really—but now, standing with Shoko, she felt a different kind of tension hanging in the air. She glanced across the lot and saw Toji’s crew huddled together. Mei Mei had left her and Shoko, heading straight for the guys, her usual confident strut not faltering for a second.

"She’s gonna stir up trouble," Shoko muttered beside her, lighting a cigarette as they watched the scene unfold.

Y/n nodded, biting her lip. She could see it from a mile away—Mei Mei had a habit of stirring the pot. But that wasn’t what was really on her mind. It was him. Toji Zenin. Or was it Fushiguro? She still didn’t really know why he switched between the two names. Either way, there was something about him that she couldn’t shake.

She’d seen the way he looked at her—subtle, but not really. The way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the tension in his jaw when she passed by. And now, standing here, she could feel his eyes on her again, even though she wasn’t looking directly at him.

"What’s the deal with him anyway?" she asked Shoko, trying to sound nonchalant, though her heart was beating faster than usual.

Shoko took a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling before answering. "Toji? He’s… complicated. Quiet, but intense. And those rumors—yeah, they're wild, but it’s mostly because he and the guys are street racers. They’ve got that whole ‘bad boy’ rep going on."

"Bad boy, huh?" Y/n murmured, trying to mask her curiosity.

Shoko turned to her with a raised eyebrow. "You’re curious, aren’t you?" she teased.

Y/n didn’t answer, her eyes now locked on Mei Mei, who had stopped right in front of Toji, clearly about to stir something up. She watched as Mei Mei pointedly asked him something—probably about her. Toji’s reaction was calm at first, but then the guys started laughing, Gojo especially, and Y/n could see Toji shift slightly, his body tensing.

"Here we go," Shoko said with a smirk, flicking her cigarette onto the ground.

Before Y/n could respond, Mei Mei turned, smirking slightly, and began walking back towards them. Y/n could feel her heart racing. What the hell had she said to him?

But then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Gojo shift his stance, his usual grin replaced with something more mischievous. He turned toward her direction, eyes glinting with that playful arrogance he always carried, and called out loud enough for the entire group to hear as well as other surrounding groups.

"Y/n! Toji’s been checking you out all night—why don’t you give him a reason to stop pretending he’s not interested?"

The words hit her like a punch, and her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She caught Toji’s eyes for a split second, and his expression, usually so unreadable, flickered with something—frustration, maybe? Annoyance?

Y/n swallowed hard, her pulse skyrocketing. She didn’t know what to say or do. But then Toji moved so fast it was almost a blur—he grabbed Gojo by the collar, jerking him forward as if he was about to land a punch. Gojo, ever the jokester, just laughed, his smirk unfazed.

"Come on, man," Gojo grinned, still laughing. "I wouldn’t steal your girl... unless..." His smirk widened.

Toji didn’t hesitate. His fist swung, but Gojo dodged easily, still laughing as Toji’s temper flared.

Toji’s fingers still buzzed from nearly decking Gojo, the cigarette barely hanging from his lips as he clenched his jaw. He wasn’t usually this quick to react, but Gojo had hit a nerve tonight, pushing him to the brink.

He took a deep drag, eyes narrowing as the smoke left his lips, rolling his shoulders back, trying to cool off.

That’s when Mei Mei casually sauntered over, plucking the freshly rolled joint right out of Sukuna’s hand as if it was hers to take. Toji's eyes flickered toward her in mild annoyance, but Mei Mei simply ignored him, lighting up the joint and taking a long, deliberate pull. She tilted her head back, exhaling the smoke with an almost too-calm demeanor.

Then, without missing a beat, she pulled out her phone and texted something, her lips curling into a smirk as she glanced briefly at Toji before looking down at her phone again.

She sauntered over to Gojo, who was still smirking, watching Toji carefully from the corner of his eye. "Mr. Moneybags," Mei Mei said smoothly, locking eyes with him. "Tell your dad to call me."

Gojo groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. "Mei Mei, please leave my dad alone. I beg you."

She just laughed, a soft, almost musical sound, clearly enjoying the way Gojo’s eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "We both know you like when I bother him, plus he is one of my sugar daddies" she teased.

Just then, Toji’s eyes snapped across the lot. Shoko was dragging Y/n, who was clearly resisting, toward their group. Y/n tugged against Shoko’s hold, but Shoko was relentless, her arm wrapped firmly around Y/n’s wrist. The closer they got, the more Toji could feel the tension building in his chest. He’d already been thrown off tonight, and now she was being pulled right into the middle of it.

He could feel his heart rate pick up, but he tried to play it off, taking another slow drag from his cigarette, acting like her presence didn’t throw his whole vibe off.

Y/n’s hair was slightly tousled from resisting Shoko, her eyes wide as she shot a pleading look toward her friend. Shoko, completely unfazed, kept dragging her forward until they were finally in the middle of the group. Geto, who's leaning casually against his car now, sizing up the situation, turned his gaze toward Shoko and smirked.

"Shoko," he drawled, eyeing her up. "You’re looking a little too good tonight."

Shoko didn’t even blink, shooting him a look of pure disgust. "Eww, bro, no," she replied flatly, which only made Geto laugh harder, shaking his head as he pulled out a cigarette of his own.

Then, Shoko turned on her heel, fixing her eyes on Mei Mei. "Cough it up," she demanded, crossing her arms. Mei Mei, still with the joint hanging loosely between her lips, raised an eyebrow and chuckled. She rummaged through her designer bag for a moment before pulling out the Jacquemus wallet that Shoko had been nagging her about for weeks.

Shoko snatched it from her with a satisfied smile, examining the sleek leather. "Finally," she muttered, tucking it into her own bag.

Geto leaned over, still smirking. "I could’ve gotten you something prettier," he said smoothly, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Shoko waved him off. "Geto, please shut up," she deadpanned, pulling out her own cigarette to light up.

But Toji’s focus had already shifted completely—Y/n was standing right there now, wearing just a skin-tight white tank top that clung to her every curve, paired with her jeans. His eyes lingered on her, muscles tensing beneath his wife-beater.

He’d ditched his jacket after the race, feeling the heat in more ways than one. But now, standing here, trying not to look directly at her? That was a challenge he wasn’t sure he could win.

And, of course, Gojo noticed. The guy lived to mess with him. The smirk on Gojo’s face widened when he saw how hard Toji was trying not to stare at Y/n.

"Well, well," Gojo said smoothly, sidling right up next to Y/n with that cocky confidence only he could pull off. He leaned in close, flashing her a playful grin. "Y/n, you know," he began, his voice low, dripping with amusement, "I always knew you had good taste. Hanging out with us, looking all... well, let’s just say you’re the highlight of the night."

Y/n couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped past her lips, half-embarrassed, half-amused by Gojo’s blatant flirting. He had that charm about him—so easy, so smooth. But at the same time, her eyes kept flicking over to Toji, as if trying to gauge his reaction.

Toji was pretending he didn’t hear it, trying to stay cool, but the cigarette between his fingers was burning faster than it should have been. He took another drag, slow and measured, trying to keep his expression neutral. But Gojo wasn’t letting up.

"You know," Gojo continued, now leaning even closer to Y/n, "you should really consider hanging out with us more often. I mean, I could show you a good time—better than some guys around here."

It was a direct jab at Toji, and Toji knew it. His eyes snapped up, locking onto Gojo with a dangerous glint. He tossed his cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath his boot as he straightened up, his broad frame tense.

"Oi," Toji’s voice cut through the chatter, low and sharp. His eyes were focused, burning with a barely-contained fire as he looked directly at Gojo. "Back off."

Gojo laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down, Toji," he teased. "I’m just having a little fun."

Y/n felt the tension spike in the air, her heart racing. She hadn’t been sure what Toji’s reaction would be, but now it was clear. He was pissed.

Toji stepped closer, his eyes now on Y/n, ignoring Gojo completely. "You okay?" His voice was a little softer now, but there was still that edge to it.

Y/n nodded, though her pulse was racing. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said, her voice a little breathless.

Toji’s gaze lingered on her for a second longer before he nodded, turning his attention back to Gojo. "Stop messing around," he muttered, the warning clear in his tone.

Gojo just grinned, but this time, he took a step back, deciding to back off—for now.

Sukuna, who had been watching all this unfold with mild interest, finally spoke up, his voice lazy and amused. "Damn, Toji. Didn’t know you had it in you to get all protective."

Toji shot him a look, but didn’t say anything. His heart was still racing, his mind still half on the race, half on Y/n. But one thing was for sure—next time, Gojo wouldn’t be running his mouth so freely.

Toji’s POV:

Toji felt the air crackle with tension as Gojo leaned in closer to Y/n. He clenched his fists, the frustration bubbling beneath his skin. But before he could act on that impulse, Gojo piped up, a mischievous grin plastered on his face. "Come on, man, I won’t do that... unless..." He let the words hang, his smirk widening.

Toji reacted instinctively, grabbing Gojo by the collar and yanking him forward. “You really want to test me right now?” he growled, eyes blazing with barely-contained rage. Gojo just laughed, clearly enjoying the playful threat. “Chill out, I was just joking!” he wheezed, still chuckling as he pushed Toji away.

Meanwhile, Y/n turned to Shoko, a frown on her face. “How could you sell me out for a wallet?” she teased, shaking her head.

Shoko shrugged, a playful smile creeping across her lips. “Two birds with one stone,” she replied, nudging Y/n gently.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell me about the whole ‘I’m getting a wallet’ plan!” Y/n protested, laughing.

Choso, who usually stayed quiet, chimed in unexpectedly, “So, Y/n, are you coming to my party later tonight?” His voice was casual, but there was a hint of excitement in his eyes.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, half-amused. “It’s 1 AM in the morning, Choso,” she replied, ready to decline.

“AND?” he shot back, not missing a beat.

Just as she opened her mouth to say no, Mei Mei cut in with a sly smile. “Give me the location; we’ll all be there.” Then she turned to Toji, that same playful grin lingering. “Including Y/n,” she added, her tone teasing.

Choso eagerly shared the details, his eyes glinting with anticipation. “It’s at my place—just a few blocks from here. Should be a good time.”

Geto leaned back against his car, his gaze fixed on Shoko. “How are you guys getting there?” he asked, his voice casual, though the excitement simmered just beneath the surface.

“I’ll drive,” Shoko replied, rolling her eyes at Geto’s obvious interest. He shot her a cheeky smile and a wink, which made her shake her head in exasperation.

“Alright, well, see you boys at the party!” Mei Mei said, leading the girls away, Y/n glancing back at Toji one last time before she was whisked away.

Toji kept his gaze locked on her as she walked away, a mixture of longing and frustration swirling inside him. But then he noticed her stop, and his heart dropped. Y/n greeted Hiromi with a hug, her smile wide as she wrapped her arms around his rival.

His blood boiled instantly, anger flaring through him. “Holy shit, she knows him?” Geto exclaimed, his surprise mirroring Toji’s internal turmoil.

Toji took a step forward, ready to pounce, fists clenched at his sides. “What the hell is she doing?” he muttered, unable to contain the rage that bubbled inside him.

“Wait,” Sukuna said sharply, grabbing Toji’s arm to hold him back. “Ask her at the party. Don’t make a scene here.”

Toji gritted his teeth, struggling to rein in his anger as he watched Y/n and Hiromi laugh, completely unaware of the storm brewing within him.

Y/n’s POV:

Y/n felt a wave of relief as she stepped away from Shoko, laughing at their playful banter about the wallet. But then she turned, and her heart did a little flip when she saw Choso looking her way. His friendly demeanor was hard to resist. “Are you coming to my party later tonight?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to decline, but then Mei Mei chimed in with her usual enthusiasm, and suddenly the idea of going didn’t seem so bad. “Give me the location; we’ll all be there,” Mei Mei said confidently.

The prospect of a party was tempting, and Y/n felt a rush of excitement. But just as she started to think it over, she caught sight of Toji. He was watching her intently, a storm brewing in those dark eyes of his. She had never seen him look so intense, and it made her heart race.

When she hugged Hiromi, she was blissfully unaware of the tension spiraling around Toji. His arms were so familiar, and she felt safe in his embrace. They laughed about something that had happened during their last encounter, completely lost in their own little world.

But when she pulled away, she felt the weight of someone’s gaze burning into her back. It was Toji. She turned slightly and caught his eye, but the moment didn’t last long. The tension radiating from him was palpable, and it made her stomach twist in an odd mix of excitement and unease.

Then she noticed the anger flaring in Toji’s expression, his jaw clenched tight as he stared at Hiromi. She realized then that she might have unintentionally stepped into the middle of something brewing between the two.

“Hey, Y/n,” Hiromi said, his voice smooth. “You got plans after this?”

“Yeah, heading to a party apparently. I'll see you around!” she replied, trying to keep the conversation light as she pulled away from him.

As she walked back toward Shoko and Mei Mei, she glanced over her shoulder at Toji, who was still watching her. The expression on his face was intense—almost possessive, and it made her wonder about the undercurrents she sensed between them. What did it mean that he seemed so affected by her interactions with Hiromi?

The tension in the air felt electric, and as they headed off toward the party, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that things were about to get a lot more complicated between her and Toji.

#fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #jujutsu kaisen toji #jujutsu toji #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #toji x black y/n #toji x black reader #black!fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x fem reader #sherewrytes #modernaujjk

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aishnico · 8 months ago

Text

warnings: cheating, oral sex (fem! receiving), grammar issues

word count: 1.6k

it was one of the nights when you, your boyfriend, takashi, and your mutual friends would go to his (uncle’s) night club, to celebrate your usual victory.

everybody is having fun there. your boyfriend’s friend, morimoto, was trying to hit on your mechanic friend, reiko. and her turning him down for the nth time will never not stop being amusing.

somehow sean and twinkie managed to get there. twinkie was introducing his new solid goods and trying to sell to some girls and boys.

meanwhile, sean was dancing and flirting with neela. you hoped takashi wasn’t looking at them. or else, he would throw hands on him. she’s like his sister to him.

but then you realized there was no reason to get worried. takashi was wasted by alcohol enough to doze off on some leather couch.

once again, everybody was having fun. but where were you?

in your boyfriend’s business partner’s tight grip.

sometimes you think that you’re a terrible person for cheating. but honestly, he deserves every bad thing happening to him.

you had no idea that you would start dating him just because you beat him in a race. only you managed to beat the infamous drift king by so far (spoiler: some country boy was going to beat him too)…

to your luck, that day he was kind enough to ask you what you wanted from him. his car, money, place…

you should have said his place. you could rule this place all alone. but instead, you said you two could rule here together. what were you thinking?

from that day, you slowly started to lose amusement in things that were making you happy. partying, racing, hanging out with your friends… made you feel dull that time.

and only god knows what he would do if you told him that you wanted to break up with him. burning the whole shibuya down is probably the slightest thing he would do.

it was until a tall, mysterious, long dark-haired korean man named han came into your lives. he races once in a blue moon. but he is as good as you and takashi. he managed to win his heart with his skills and personality. soon, he became one of his close friends.

you observed him for a while. he wasn’t a very talkative guy. he preferred to listen and observe. that was what he did between you and takashi.

he knew you had no feelings for him and that almost nothing amuses you anymore. so he tried to get some adrenaline into your life by starting to secretly flirting with you.

you would laugh at his attempts but also would turn him down nonchalantly. you would think that he’s a nasty bastard who thought he could get everything he ever wanted.

but he had no desire to stop until he made your whole face red and your heart beat faster than ever. him not giving up on you even after months made you fall for his charm eventually.

also, getting in between your legs wasn’t in his plans but he’s not complaining. you’re his best fuck, after all, and he’s yours.

he really did bring some adrenaline into your life.

today, once again, you were in his tight grip secretly.

he pushed you further to the wall as he smashed his lips on yours. you closed your eyes and immediately started to kiss him with full of lust. he took your lower lip between his teeth and bit it.

you moaned into his mouth as you stopped sucking on his upper lip and opened your mouth. he pushed his tongue inside and your tongues started to twirl in perfect sync.

his hands moved to your back from your waist. caressing with his calloused hands as you wrapped your arms around his neck. trying to get him closer and closer.

when you started to feel breathless you pulled away. panting while looking at him with full of lust.

dk keeping you as close as possible made things difficult for both of you. so you both felt like you hadn’t seen each other since forever.

once again, he smashed his lips against yours, making you lose your senses again. but you weren’t gonna lie, you loved the sensation that only he could give you.

your hands went to the bottom of his shirt as you tried to take it off of him but he put his hands on top of yours and stopped you.

“i want you to come on my whole face and your juices drip down on my shirt.”

you sighed and slithered your black, lace panties aside. he kneeled and grinned. you were already dripping.

“what a pretty sigh, is this all for me?” he looked up at you with a sly smile. you blushed and turned your face away from him.

“such a needy girl. but i appreciate it so much.” his face was now close to your clit.

you leaned back and pushed your legs aside and wide for a better sigh for him.

“so beautiful…” he whispered before his hot mouth kissed your clit. after giving some light kisses, he started to suck on it slowly. taking his time with you. you whimpered and threw your head backward. your reaction made him grin as he shoved his face further.

you moaned erotically and ached your back as he moved out and shoved his tongue inside your needy, dripping hole. your velvety walls clenching around his skillful tongue as he tastes your sweet juices. his nose is already covered in your wetness.

he groaned at the taste. vibrations he just caused sent more pleasure inside you.

you wrapped your thighs around his head and pushed him closer. basically smothering him with your slit.

he doesn’t complain, though. in fact, he loves this more than everything. the first time he had eaten you out and you trapped him there, he said that he could happily die like this, he’s in the highest step of heaven. and just like that, he made you come for the first time.

as he pushed his tongue deeper and deeper, you held on to his hair and pulled it. he groaned again, his hands caressing your plush thighs.

his tongue continued to hit spots inside your walls. eventually, he found your sweet spot and started to hit there over and over.

you let out a cry as you began to ride his face basically. you both knew you were getting close. his movements got faster and faster. his tongue hitting that spot over and over and circumlating inside your walls. your slit covering his nose and chin area.

“seoul-oh, gonna cum, gonna cum~!” you warned him. you looked down on him with fucked-up expression.

“go on,” he mumbled and made eye contact with you. “let out all for me, sweet girl.” he held your hands which were gripping his hair, and placed them lower, still holding them.

you noticed the tightened wet spot inside his jeans. precum already leaked out of him. god, he was so big and hard… you wished to go down on him or get fucked by him but he chose to pleasure you. your pleasure always came first to him.

eventually, you felt your core tighten, your bundle of nerves building up as your jaw hung open, panting heavily. tears rolling down your flushed cheeks as you clenched around his tongue for the last time. then came undone all over his face.

your fluids were dripping down on his chin and shirt as he wanted. he was smiling like an idiot now.

he pushed his head backward and gasped. you both breathed in and out heavily, trying to calm down yourselves.

“that, was, amazing.” he emphasized every word while standing up. he kissed you once again. you could taste yourself on his lips and feel his bulge pressing against your stomach. you looked down.

“don’t mind me, i can handle myself. leave the room first, i’m gonna join you a few minutes later.”

you went to the door hurriedly. but stopped to look at him. then walked to him again and kissed him hard for the last time for the day.

before leaving the room he called you by your name. you turned your head to look at him.

“can i um…” he threw his hand to the back of his neck. “ask you out on a real date after sean beats dk’s ass and he gets the fuck out of city?”

you giggled. “i’d love to.”

you were glad that takashi was still sleeping, but you wished you had known this couple of minutes ago so you could help han out there.

as you were sitting next to him you looked around the people. and saw han with two chicks on both sides. that sigh made your blood boil but you had to endure.

his phone rang and you woke him. he grimaced but took the phone out of your hands. “moshi moshi (hello)?” he answered and froze there immediately. you watched him gulp and get sweaty. it must be his uncle…

he got up and you started to follow him behind. “takashi, what’s going on?” you asked worriedly. “uncle called, told me he has to speak about business now.” he answered nonchalantly.

before leaving the building, han stood in front of him with the same girls. “has something happened?” he asked, trying to sound worried.

“business calls.” he answered shortly. before starting to walk again he stopped. he looked at han’s face and you noticed it looked glossy. your eyes got widened, haven’t he wiped out your cum from his face..?

“what’s with your face?” takashi asked furrowing his eyebrows. han wiped his forehead with his hand and looked at it. “oh, it’s sweat.” he smiled at him while licking the same hand. he didn’t miss to shoot a wink at you.

as all of you watched takashi leave, han slipped away from the girls and stood behind you. he got close to your ear and whispered.

“round 2?”

#the fast and the furious #fast and furious #tokyo drift #fast and furious imagine #fast and furious x reader #han lue #han seoul oh #han x reader #han lue imagine #han seoul oh x reader #x reader #sean boswell #dk #drifk king #han lue x reader

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aemondapologistfrfr · 2 months ago

Text

Command Me 1/2

knight!benji blackwood x strong!fem!reader //

oc!brandon stark x strong!fem!reader

Summary: Your mother thinks it’s best you marry sooner rather than later and betrothes you to a man you’ve never met from the north. The only say you have in your life at the moment is picking out a sworn protector. Your marriage leaves you unhappy and unfulfilled and Benji has no problem helping in anyway he can.

Warnings: 18+ swearing, mentions of murder, arranged marriage, wine, age gap, marriage duties, unhappy marriage, moon tea, cheating, oral(f receiving), p in v, bit angsty ngl

Authors Note: request from @chainsawsangel, no explicit detail of oc!stark and y/n intimate moments

Word Count: 5.4k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

My ears start ringing as my mother’s words start to float around my head. I focus on my breathing as I feel like I’m gasping for air. The council members nod around the table as I can hear the blood pumping throughout my body. She places her hand on mine and looks to me expectantly.

“What?” I shake my head confused.

“I asked if you wanted to travel back with Cregan to meet your betrothed.” she says with a smile that tells me I’ll have a scolding later.

“Absolutely not.” I take my hand from hers and place it in my lap.

“That is fine, Princess. My uncle won’t mind coming down here for you.” he offers me a smile that doesn’t seem genuine.

“He shouldn’t since he’s my king consort.” I scoff.

“Y/n.” my mothers tone low and warning.

“I await his arrival in anticipation, my Lord.” I nod my head and push my chair back against the stone. If looks could kill my mother would have me stringed up against the council chamber walls. I walk out of the hall and practically start sprinting out of the castle.

“Princess!” guards shout after me as I take a horse from the courtyard and gallop into the city. The city folk move out of my way as I race to the pits. I abandon the horse outside and call for the dragon keepers to wake my dragon. The ground begins to shutter as my dragon emerges.

“Hello my handsome boy.” I coo as he pushes into me. I admire his black scales that simmer the brightest lilac in the sun and begin to mount. Once my clips are in place he’s running us out of the pit as we both share the sentiment to get out of this city. As we fly over Kings Landing my dragon gives a fearsome cry and we shoot off to the Kings Wood.

The breeze flows through my hair and I finally feel some relief. I lean down and hug my dragon as he offers me a deep rumble. I beat my mother by two years for youngest dragon rider. I was five when I first mounted him and he brought us about the city giving high pitched screeches at the common folk. Ever since then we would disappear for a week or more to just fly and explore.

She would send countless parties in search of me but we quickly found caves that would keep us hidden. She’s learned where I go now so I decide to just stick to the Kings Wood to avoid the yelling I’m sure to receive. We land in the cover of the tree canopies by the lake and sprawl out in the sun. I rest my head on his tail as he buries his head into the tall grass scaring away the mice and bugs.

“I can’t believe she would marry me off to some old northerner.” I sigh looking up at the clouds. My dragon offers me a deep chuff.

I hear the high pitched dragon call before I see him. As Caraxes comes into view I sigh at her sending him. She knows that we butt heads like bulls so I’m not sure what she’s expecting from this. Daemon lands and begins to walk over to me and my dragon raises his head and bares his teeth.

“Relax, mother would kill me.” I pat my dragons thigh chuckling and look to Daemon expectantly.

“Sometimes I wonder how you’re not my child.” he chuckles as he approaches.

“I don’t know why you would think that. You never raised me and still don’t.” I look up to him from the ground intent on staying where I am.

“Fair enough,” he sits on the ground and looks to me with a taunting smile.

“What?” I snap sitting up.

“Your mother wants you back at the Keep. She wants you to pick out a sworn protector for yourself.” he studies me as I roll my eyes.

“As if I’ll have a choice in the matter.” I push myself up and my dragon rises behind me. I mount him and leave Daemon behind at the lake. When I land back at the pits my mother is there waiting for me with a furrowed brow. The carriage ride back to the Keep is silent and when we stop in the inner courtyard I try to run off to my chambers but she stops me.

“What’s wrong?” she searches my eyes.

“I don’t want to marry some second son from the north who I’ve never met and you think allowing me to pick a sworn protector will fix that?” I rise my hands at a loss.

“Into the Keep now.” she says lowly and I see the eyes on us from around the grounds. She brings us into her solar and I huff sitting on the couch.

“You remind me so much of my younger self.” she hums with a soft smile.

“Mm,” I nod my head wanting to be back with my dragon or in my chambers.

“You may find love with Brandon.” my mother tries to hide her wince.

“So that’s his name. How bland. Brandon the Bland I should call him.” I groan throwing my head back against the couch.

“Y/n I worked hard to make this match. You will treat him with respect. He comes from an honorable and noble house.” her voice starts rising.

“I don’t care if he’s noble,” I shake my head angry. “I don’t know him, I don’t want him,” I feel tears start forming and I wipe them away frustrated with the world.

“Sweet girl,”

“Don’t sweet girl me.” I rise from the couch. “I’m tempted to get in my dragon and flee to where you’ll never find me.” I run out of her chambers and straight into Jace. I push him back and he calls after me.

I seal myself in my chambers and let my tears flow freely. I don’t care about a husband or a sworn protector. I don’t care about the crown or ruling. I hear the whispers everyday about who my father is and how dark my hair is. I don’t want to be ridiculed for the entirety of my rule especially with some man who doesn’t even know me.

“I’m not here to baby you. Get up and let’s go.” Daemons voice comes from the other side of the door.

“I’m not going anywhere.” I yell back through the wood. He pushes the door open harshly and grabs my arm pulling me with him.

“Your mother has been inviting these knights here for well over a moon. You will not embarrass her.” he says through his teeth pulling me down the stairs. I start to push and hit his hand off as the servants in the hall advert their eyes from our spat. We stumble down the rest of the stairs and we stare at each other waiting to see what the other does. I go to pull my arm back and he pulls me closer with a scowl on his face.

“Get the fuck off of me.” I spit out at him.

“You’re causing a scene.” he tugs me along to the hall and as we enter all of the knights turn to look at me. I push Daemon off of me and look over the men before me with a raised chin and a death glare.

“Leave.” I wave off Daemon and the men before me look at the ground as if it’s the most interesting.

“Step forward if you’re from Kings Landing or the Queens guard.” I hum and a handful of men step forward. “You are dismissed.” I nod them to the door and they look at me with their mouth agape and I look at the five remaining men.

“If you are from the north step forward.” two men slowly step forward. “You are dismissed.” I look over them unamused.

“You three are the only remaining.” I offer them a serpentine smile. “Tell me why I should choose you.” I take a seat and watch them look at me.

“I am a Dornish Swordsman and trained along side Ser Criston-“

“A mistake. You are dismissed.” I wave him off and place my head in my hand bored. “Next.”

“Princess,” the man older than Daemon nods his head. “I trained this young man here. He was recently knighted and easily my best student. Anything and everything he knows, I taught him.” he sounds proud.

“So the most obvious choice is him then? You’re old and withering and he’s young,” I look over the man next to him who only seems to be a handful of years older than me. “Did you even come here to try for a place as my sworn protector?” I look over the old man.

“I- Princess, I’m-“

“Enough,” I wave him off. “You’re dismissed.”

I turn my head back to the man in front of me and tilt my head. I study him with squinted eyes and can see that he has the muscle required for this job. He’s easy on the eyes which will be a welcome reprieve if my betrothed isn’t. He stands with a puffed out chest and confidence pouring off of him and I rise and walk in front of him. I look up to him and he nods his head down to me.

“Tell me your name.” I look into his eyes and smile when I see no fear.

“Ser Benjicot Blackwood.” his voice flows through my ears like honey.

“Mm a Riverman,” I smile. “I’ve had some great times in taverns outside Raventree Hall when I was on the run.” I chuckle thinking back.

“On the run from what, my Princess?” he offers me a soft smile.

“My life and duties.” I shrug. “It looks like you’re the last knight standing Benji.” his spine straightens at the name.

“It seems that I am.” he nods chewing his lip, the only sign that he has some nerves about being dismissed.

“Then you shall be my new sworn protector.” a smile pulls across my face as his shoulders relax and he returns my smile.

“Y/n,” my mother bursts into the hall in a rampage.

“I’ve chosen Benji.” I turn to her with a smile and she looks him over.

“You didn’t even give the other men a chance.” she seethes. “Why must everything be like this with you?” she sighs shaking her head.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Today is the day Brandon gets to Kings Landing and I try to convince the maester I’m sick and can’t meet him. He knows my antics and deems me healthy. I’m being tied into a gown as pins are being stuck into my head holding my braids in place. I kick my handmaidens out after hours saying I just needed a moment to myself and I’ll be down shortly.

“Are you ready, Princess?” Benjis voice comes through my doors.

“Can you come in?” my voice soft and he slips into my chambers leaving the door open.

“What can I do for you, Princess?” he looks over my dress and I see him swallow before his eyes make his way to mine.

“Did you see him?” my voice hushed.

“I did.” he nods standing up straighter.

“Do you think he’s handsome?” I pick at my nails.

“I don’t know how to answer that.” he says clearing his throat.

“Benji,” I whine. “It’s simple. Does he look old and decrepit or does he look like you?” his eyes snap to mine and I smirk at him.

“Your betrothed is waiting for you, Princess.” he turns to walk out of my chambers and I sigh and walk to his side.

As we make our way down to the main hall I groan and drag my feet. Benji chuckles and slows his pace to stay with me. Over the past moon I’m thankful everyday to this man for traveling here to become my sworn protector. He jokes with me and keeps me company. He is also handsome which I never cease to remind him as his cheeks tint.

“If I asked you to kill my betrothed would you?” I whisper to Benji.

“It is my duty to do anything you ask of me.” he nods his head and I smile.

As we walk into the hall my stomach drops as my eyes land on Brandon. My mother can’t possibly be serious. This man has to have almost two decades on me. I find my mother and I scrunch my eyebrows at her and begin walking to her.

“Princess,” a gruff voice stops my feet as I turn to Brandon who is looking over my body like a starved man. I step back into Benji and he steadies me.

“You’re Brandon I presume?” I raise my eyebrow looking up to him.

“I am.” he grabs my hand much to my horror and places a wet kiss on it.

“How kind.” I hope my disgust isn’t written over my face.

“Y/n,” my mother’s worried voice calls me over to her side and I’m practically sprinting to her.

“I would rather die than marry that man.” I hiss to my mother.

“That’s enough. You will be married by the end of this moon and that’s final.” I feel so stuck and I turn and see that Brandon is walking back over here.

“Could I offer you a walk through the gardens, Princess?” Brandon offers me his and I stare at it and look to my mother who nods encouragingly.

“Sure,” I sigh. “Benji let’s go.” I nod my head for him to follow.

“Your dog doesn’t need to come with.” Brandon chuckles and I cement my feet.

“He is not my dog. You will treat my sworn protector with respect or I’ll have him take your tongue.” I look over Brandon who is smiling.

“Feisty, I like it.” he smiles grabbing my arm and tugging me out of the hall.

It takes all of my strength not to rip my arm out of his hand. I lead us to the gardens and the silence is anything but comfortable. I look at Brandon out of the corner of my eye and see his years written on his wrinkled forehead. I shiver of disgust runs through me as we enter the gardens. He leads us to the nearest table and sits down and I take a place across from him.

“You are more beautiful than Cregan lead on.” he hums licking his lips.

“Did he say anything else?” I drawl looking him over.

“That I would probably have to wear you down a bit but that’s not an issue, I have great stamina.” he winks at me and I know there’s no hiding the horror on my face. “Mm tell me, do you still have your maidenhead?” his smile makes me feel disgusting.

“Is that anyway to speak to a Princess?” Benjis voice just short of a growl.

“She’s to be my wife, boy.” Brandon looks over him and turns his eyes back to me. “Well do you or are you sullied?”

“I do.” my voice barely a whisper as I feel my cheeks heat.

“There’s one plus.” he leans back in his seat and looks me over. “I thought you Targaryens were supposed to have silver hair?” he tilts his head.

“The Gods are mysterious.” I clench my jaw. How could my mother do this to me? I know I wasn’t the easiest child to raise but she can’t possibly think I will be willing to wed this man. My heart starts to beat rapidly and I’m getting overwhelmed.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Brandon narrows his eyes at me.

“Benji can you take me to the maester? I feel faint.” I reach for his arm and he’s bending down and helping me to my feet instantly.

“What’s wrong?” Benjis voice is rushed as he searches my face.

“I’m hot and I just can’t breathe.” I all but gasp as we make it into the Keep.

“Just a bit further, Y/n.” he keeps a steady hand around my waist and on out for me to hold on to.

“Thank you, Benji.” I sigh in relief as we make it to the maesters chambers.

“Princess what’s wrong?” the maester helps me lay on the bed.

“She said she’s overheating and her breathing was heavy.” Benji says brushing my hair back.

“Were you doing something strenuous?” the maester asks as he fills me a glass of water.

“No, I was just-“

“What’s happened?” my mother bursts into the room.

“Mother,” my voice breaks as I reach out to her. “Please, don’t make me, please,” I start crying and Benji and the maester look worried.

“What do you mean sweet girl?” she shushes me kneeling at my side.

“I’ll be better,” I hiccup. “Don’t make me marry that old man, please, mother.” a tear slips down my cheek.

“Leave us.” she waves her hand at Benji and the maester who are shutting the door behind them quickly. “What possibly could’ve happened?” she sits back looking over my state.

“He made remarks about bedding me and he made remarks about who my father was.” I sit up looking to her with pleading eyes. “Mother please,” I feel the tears start to well up.

“Just give it a chance. Maybe he was just excited to see such a beautiful young woman.” she offers me a smile and I sigh knowing I don’t have a choice.

“I will keep Benji with me. I don’t want to be alone with Brandon.” I shake my head furrowing my brows.

“Of course you two shouldn’t be alone before you wed.” she nods her head.

“I don’t want to wed him mother, please.” my voice breaking again as I continue to plead.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

It feels as if there are rocks in my stomach as I’m twirled around the dance floor. Brandon pulls me back against him and dips down to my ear. His tongue trails along the outer shell and I try to pull back but he holds me firm. When he lifts his head he chuckles at my red cheeks and the crowd claps as our dance ends.

“Go get a drink and stop being so uptight.” I slip into the crowd trying to keep a smile pinned on my face as I head to find wine. Gods know I’ll need it for tonight. I can’t believe my mother made me go through with this.

The servant offers me a fresh glass and congratulations on my marriage and I smile and nod. I walk to the outskirts of the crowd and try to calm my nerves. I focus on my breathing and let the hall and celebrations fade away.

“I wanted to tell you that you look absolutely divine, Princess. I know it’s not my place but I needed to tell you.” Benjis voice is barely a whisper as I turn to him.

“I wish I wed you tonight.” I feel the tears form and ready to fall.

“Princess,” Benjis voice strained.

“I know,” I shake my head wiping my eyes. “Just don’t leave me, please.” my eyes pleading.

“Anything you ask.” he nods his head. “I am sworn to you.”

“Thank you.” I finish my glass of wine and head back over to Brandon.

“Feeling better?” Brandon pulls me against him.

“Much.” I smile trying to pretend I’m not repulsed at his touch.

“The Princess and I will retire for the night.” he announces loudly and there are rowdy cheers that follow. I feel like my legs are about to give out as he starts to pull me off the dais. I search frantically around the hall for Benji even though I know he can’t stop what’s to come.

“I’ll escort you both.” Benji comes behind us as Brandon chuckles.

“Do you expect to witness the act itself too, boy?” Brandon roars out a laugh.

“No.” I say quickly.

“Embarrassed, my innocent wife?” I feel my cheeks heat and I bite my tongue deciding to stay silent. We stop outside of his chambers and he pulls me inside sealing the door leaving Benji on the other side.

I knew what tonight was going to entail but I had hoped he would’ve been more kind and caring of my needs and wants. I performed my duty as best as I could but it didn’t make it any more enjoyable or less painful. He pulls me up from the bed and pushes me out of his doors leaving me in the halls in my slip holding my wedding dress. I look down at the stone floor as it cools my bare feet.

“Princess?” Benjis voice is soft as he stands in front of me.

“Can you please take me back to my chambers?” I whisper continuing to look down.

He pulls his cape off and wraps it around me. I drop my wedding gown outside Brandon’s chambers as I cling to the cape. As we start up the stairs I wince at the pain between my thighs. We make it to my chambers and a sob of relief bubbles out of me. I turn towards Benji to thank him and see that his jaw is set and he looks ready to murder someone.

“I need you to command me to stay right here. In this exact spot. Or I will walk down those stairs and make you a widow.” I can feel his temper rising around us and I’m tempted to let him make me a widow this very second but this isn’t a decision to be made in haste.

“I need you here with me. I need you to find a servant to bring me water for a bath and I need you to do something with discretion.” my voice hushed as I look around the halls.

“Anything.” he nods his head searching my eyes.

“Go to the maester. Offer him good coin for his silence. Say you had a lapse in judgment and slept with a maid and you need moon tea. Please Benji, I can’t have his child.” I beg.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Brandon pushes me outside of his chambers again and I see Benji clenching his fists. He falls into step beside me as we walk silently back to my chambers. I gave up on wearing slippers to his chambers because the cool stone on the walk back helps ground me. This has been happening once every fortnight for the past three moons and I either have Benji or my personal handmaiden retrieve my moon tea.

“I’ll be back with the tea.” Benji says lowly leaving me at my chamber doors.

“Benji I don’t need,” I stutter. “He made me suck-“ I shake my head feeling my cheeks burn and I hear him deeply inhale.

“Princess,” his voice like gravel as his eyes slide to mine.

“Can you just come in with me?” my voice barely audible as I hold my door open. He sighs and follows allowing the door to shut behind us.

“What can I do for you?” he stands at my doors back ridged.

“I just need you to be here with me,” I sit and he claims the chair furthest from me. “Do you find me repulsive now that I’m sullied?” I don’t mean for my words to sound as pathetic as they do.

“I could never find you repulsive.” he replies quickly. “I think you’re the most ethereal being I’ve ever met.” his voice laced with reverence.

“Why do you think my husband wants to cause me so much pain? Or is that how it’s supposed to feel? I don’t have anyone to talk to.” I fidget my fingers and hear his sharp inhale.

“It wouldn’t hurt if he was worshiping you properly. He’s a fool he should have his face buried,” he stops himself and finds his composure. “I’m sorry, please forgive my words Princess.”

“The only place his face is buried is my neck as he ruts into me. I used to try to think of someone else in hopes that it would make it more pleasurable but when that didn’t help I just learned to keep my eyes squeezed shut and toss out a couple fake moans.” I should feel embarrassed to be divulging this to Benji but it feels so relieving to talk to someone about it.

“He should be able to tell the difference.” he shakes his head as I see his knuckles turning white from his grip on the chair.

“I don’t know I can be convincing.” I allow myself to chuckle. “Yeah, so good,” I moan followed by a whimper and I burst out in giggles as Benjis head snaps up to me.

“Has he made you come?” his dark eyes search my face.

“No.” I shake my head as my blush revives on my neck. “He just uses me and throws me out of his chambers. I could live with it if I at least got that relief but I just get to walk back to my chambers and go to bed.” I sigh leaning back in the chair.

“Can I, I want to,” he bites his lip turning away. “I should let you rest for the night.” he starts to stand.

“Say it.” I nod my head prompting him.

“Can I make you come?” my heart skips at his words and I nod my head quickly. “I need to hear you say it.” his voice wrecked.

“Can you please make me come, Benji?” I bat my eyelashes at him. He rises from the chair and stalks over to me. He towers over me before he kneels before me and begins to trail his hands up my legs spreading them. My cheeks burn as my core is exposed to his face and he looks up to me with hooded eyes.

“Has he ever kissed you here before?” he asks propping my legs on his shoulders.

“No,” I shake my head gasping at the coolness of his metal armor on my calves.

“May I?” he looks up to me as he places soft kisses on the inside of my thighs.

“Please Benji,” I reply breathlessly.

He licks up my slit and my chest heaves. His tongue circles my neglected bud and I push my hips into his mouth. Whimpers pour from my mouth as he pulls me flush against his face. He moans into my center as my hips grind against him. I brush against his nose and I moan loudly burying my hand in his hair holding him close. I continue to buck against him as he laps at me.

“Benji, I-“ I sob as pleasure washes over me and his tongue continues to work me through it. He pulls back and looks up to me with a smile on his face.

“Those moans sounded nothing like what you did before.” his words laced with confidence.

“I want to come again.” I say still trying to catch my breath.

“As you command, Princess.” he dips back between my legs.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Benji is walking me back to my chambers after a particularly rough night with Brandon. I’m starting to loathe my husband more than I thought possible. Benji follows me into my chambers and seals the doors behind us.

“Your handmaiden should be back with the tea shortly.” he sits on a chair in front of me trying to gauge my emotions.

“Would you still kill him if I asked?” I look up to him and he nods.

“Just say the word.” he searches my eyes.

“Maybe we use poison or something so they won’t know it��s you.” I nibble on my lip trying to come up with a plan.

“It’d have to be one that would make him suffer. He doesn’t deserve an easy way out.” he shakes his head working himself up.

“Your devotion never ceases to amaze me.” I look to him and stand as there’s a soft knock at my door. “Thank you.” I smile at my handmaiden and click the door shut once again. I drain the contents of the cup and join Benji on the chairs again.

“When do you want him dead?” his tone low as he watches my slip rise up.

“As soon as possible. I can’t take it anymore.” I sigh stretching. “You can say no because I know where I just came from but can you make me feel good Benji? I want to forget everything.” I slide my eyes to him.

“I will always want you.” he starts to rise from his chair.

“I need you, Benji. Show me how good it can feel.” I plead as I pull him over to the bed.

We start to remove his armor and when I finally lift off his shirt and feel his bare chest I groan. He pulls my slip above my head and leaves me bare before him. He pulls me into a kiss and I melt into him as our chests mold together. I unlace his trousers and he begins to kick them off. We fall back onto the bed and I feel his hardness pressed against my leg. I buck against him waiting for him to push into me.

“There’s no rush, I’m taking my time with you.” he kisses down my neck and between my breasts. He licks across them and sucks a nipple into his mouth. I gasp as he swirls his tongue around my hardened peak and my nails hold onto his back. He chuckles and moves the next to offer it the same attention.

“Benji,” I gasp as he grazes his teeth across my nipple before pulling up.

“There’s a lot of pleasure I can show you, Princess.” he kisses down my navel and I buck my hips in anticipation. “Do you wanna come?” he chuckles pressing my hips into the bed.

“Please Benji,” I cry out as his lips attach to my bud.

As he circles his tongue I feel his fingers glide through my wetness and I squirm. He slips two fingers into my core and I whine squeezing my thighs around his head. When he curls his fingers I feel my high building in my lower stomach. My whines become more high pitched the faster he pumps his fingers.

“Benji right there, yes,” I gasp as I come undone. He slowly comes back up my body trailing soft kisses. “I need you in me.” I wrap my legs around his waist.

“Tell me if you want me to stop at any point.” his eyes look to mine and I nod kissing him softly.

He slowly pushes in and I whimper at his stretch. He slowly rocks his hips into me as I mewl clinging to him. He rolls his hips and a broken moan falls from my lips. The difference is absolutely mind blowing. The pleasure he is pulling from my body has me feeling as if I’m flying through the sky.

“How does it feel, Princess?” Benji rasps as I clench around him.

“I’m so full of you, Benji.” I gasp holding him closer. He starts to pump into me at a quicker pace and my eyes roll back. His fingers find my throbbing bud causing his name to fall from my lips like a prayer. I pulse around him losing myself to my pleasure and I feel him begin to fill me. He slides out of me and pulls me against his chest kissing my face and smoothing my hair. I feel safe and loved in his arms.

“I’m gunna kill your husband tomorrow.” he promises as he rests his forehead on mine.

“Thank you, Benji.” I capture his lips as we get lost in each other once more.

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌

Part Two

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