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neptuneiris · 1 day ago

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Back To You | (One-shot)

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (friend with benefits)

summary: you're always there, hoping for more. to be more. to mean more and something real. but that's not what he wants, always drawing the line. until… you just can't take it anymore.

words: 19k

sorry for the delay and also sorry this is too long. i won't promise anything next time 😅 and please comment, i want to hear your opinions, a reblog is also appreciated guys.

my masterlist

warnings: angst, sex content, heartbreak.

The first time you met Aemond, it was in the same way everyone else did and in his main way of making himself known to people: quiet, calm and reserved.

If you didn't have friends in common, you know you would never have been able to get close to him. But it was your small group of friends in college that brought you together with him; Alysanne, Sara, Cregan and Jason.

From the beginning, Aemond seemed to exist in his own orbit.

While the others fill the spaces with laughter and conversation, he preferred silence. He is like a constant shadow in the group, always present but not fully integrated.

He usually didn't speak much in topics of conversation, but when he did, his voice is quiet, soft and even soothing that it was almost hypnotic.

And maybe that was what first caught your attention. Something about the way he was, that unwavering distance and tranquility that wasn't arrogant, but almost… carefree.

You understand that he befriended Cregan in one of the classes they shared together. And it was Cregan who gradually included him in the group, at the same time that Sara was also including you.

You soon noticed that, although he was present at meetings and outings, there was a pattern in his behavior.

He talked more with Cregan and Jason, not with the same ease with which they talked to each other, but with a ease that he didn't have with Alysanne, Sara or you.

It's not that he was rude, when you addressed him a few times, he responded politely, but his tone was always restrained, measured.

And not only that, you also notice that as soon as someone tries to get too close, invisible walls rise around him, high and impenetrable. And his selectivity with the people he surrounds himself with, or talks to, becomes all too noticeable.

Even in the group chat Alysanne had created, he doesn't say much. In fact, he doesn't say anything at all.

He never initiated conversations or left casual comments compared to the others. And when he did write, it was only when someone asked him a question. Sometimes days or weeks would go by without his name coming up in conversation.

And, at least, at first… you didn't think much of him.

Aemond was just another presence in the group, someone with whom you shared moments but not necessarily a connection, let alone a friendship, at all. You just kept in mind that his reserved and carefree attitude made him different.

Although over time, you began to notice certain things about him that began to catch your attention.

The way he kept his distance even when surrounded by people. The ease with which he glided through life without worrying about fitting in or pleasing anyone. And the way he showed no interest in being heard or belonging.

He didn't show his emotions and it was hard to read. As well as it was hard to tell what he was thinking about, if he was thinking about anything at all.

That made him even more intriguing and that was the way he inevitably began to draw your interest.

Not because you hoped to change him or because you wanted to discover some secret hidden behind his distant attitude, but because, without even trying, he stood out from everyone else.

While the others sought validation in shared laughter and endless conversation, Aemond didn't care about any of that. And worst of all, no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, every time you saw him, every time you suddenly heard his voice, you felt something twisting inside you.

At first, you justified it as simple curiosity. But curiosity doesn't explain the way your attention kept coming back to him.

How you found yourself looking for him at every meeting, how you waited for him to speak, even if it was just to answer a simple question, and how, despite his indifference, you began to realize that you wanted him closer.

It also didn't help with how incredibly attractive he is.

Despite the scar down the middle of his face and the eye he doesn't have, actually being a prosthetic, he is beautiful.

An accident, Cregan told you, when you asked him, to get a little more information about him. But that was all he told you and with a tone that made it clear to you that he didn't even know that much. So you didn't press the subject.

Not because you weren't curious, but because you knew that Aemond is the kind of person who doesn't talk about certain things with just anyone. And over time, that distance between the two of you began to bother you.

You wanted to get to know him beyond the few words he shared with the group, beyond the occasional comments he made. So, one day, you decided to try to get closer to him.

Try to break down his walls with you.

A difficult thing to do, considering everyone knows what he's like. But not impossible. Or at least that's what you told yourself.

You have an advantage, considering you both belong to the same group of friends. But you know that won't make it any less difficult, still, it's something in your favor. The problem was that you needed an excuse.

You couldn't just show up and talk to him for no reason. You needed something that would get his attention so he would talk back to you to keep him. But there was nothing. There was no specific topic, no common theme or shared class, nothing.

But you would find it. You had to.

Until one day, you saw a change in him. So slight and so small it could barely be noticed. Anyone else wouldn't have even noticed, but you did.

A change in his cold and disinterested attitude, which was suddenly colder and more disinterested. He was more serious than usual. He didn't speak at all unless the guys asked him something.

And his look… serious and even annoyed, with slumped shoulders and as if he was more lost in thought than usual. From the morning, when he arrives on campus with his usual air of indifference, you notice that change in him.

And on a Friday, as the day goes by normally, you can't take your eyes off him.

At lunch, the group gathers in the gardens for lunch, as usual, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Jason and Cregan talk about their usual anecdotes, Alysanne and Sara laugh and tease them and he… completely silent.

Sitting at the end of the table, he has only a bottle of water in front of him, which he sips from time to time. He does not join in the conversation and gazes off into the horizon, lost in thought.

But his tense posture, hard stare and clenched jaw, you notice all that. You want to talk to him. Ask him if he's okay. But you don't want to bother him. However, Jason notices it too and thankfully asks him.

“What's wrong, dude? Aren't you going to eat?”

You immediately watch them intently.

“I'm not hungry,” he replies simply and without emotion.

“And why is that? Everything okay with you?”

Aemond nods without saying anything else. He doesn't explain, and Jason doesn't insist. Neither do the others. They simply continue the conversation as if nothing had happened.

To them, Aemond has always been like that; reserved, quiet and indifferent. But you know there's more to it.

The minutes pass and you don't know what to do. You think about what would be the most ideal way to approach him. But nothing comes to mind.

Then he suddenly stands up and tells Cregan quietly that he will be leaving for his next class. He doesn't say goodbye to the others, just hangs his backpack over his shoulder and leaves.

And it's in that instant that you make a decision.

You don't know if it's a good idea. You don't know if it will work. And you hesitate, as you watch him walk off into the distance.

You could approach him, ask him if he's okay. But you know he'll most likely pull your back out before you can even try. So instead, you pull out your phone, unlock the screen, open the messaging app and start typing.

'Hey, are you okay?'

Simple. Subtle. Polite. You don't look at it the wrong way. In fact, it might work. Still, nerves wash over you, actually not so sure. But you finally take a deep breath and press send.

Honestly, you don't know why you thought he'd respond right away. Or that at the very least, his response would come in maybe ten or fifteen minutes.

By the time night falls and you're lying in your bed, rolling through your social media and no new messages, you begin to accept that he won't reply. And that he probably just ignored the message because he's not the least bit interested.

You sigh and put your phone aside, trying to push the topic out of your mind. But just as sleep begins to grip you, the vibration of your phone startles you.

You pick up the device quickly, a spark of hope lighting up your chest, only to have it shut off abruptly when you read his reply.

'Who are you?'

Embarrassment hits you so hard you feel heat rise to your face.

Disillusion and disappointment that he doesn't even have you in his contacts. You mean… you both belong to the same group of friends and you're both in the same group chat. And he doesn't have your number?

You bite the inside of your cheek, seriously considering not saying anything else to him and pretending this never happened.

But after staring at the message for a few long minutes, you let go of the humiliation and reply in the hope that he'll get back to you in a few minutes and not until tomorrow.

'I'm Y/N.'

A few minutes pass, at most three, but you feel them eternal. All is silence, until your next message comes through.

'Why do you ask that?'

You press your lips together, rereading the screen. It could be genuine curiosity… or it could be his way of making you feel even more out of place. But you don't take it back. Not this time and not anymore.

So you sigh, settle better in bed and decide to be honest.

'Well, I saw you really off today and I just wanted to make sure you're okay.'

The 'read' indicator almost to the second, makes your heart skip a beat. And you watch, expecting to see the 'typing' later.

But seconds pass and nothing. And you watch your screen more intently, as if that will magically make him decide to write you when you want him to. And when you see that he has left you on read, again the embarrassment invades you.

When suddenly, finally, the ´typing´ appears and your heart skips a beat. And finally, his reply.

'I'm fine.'

Two words. Nothing more.

You bite your lip, reading the message over and over, not entirely what you expected and increasingly convinced that this is going to be harder than you thought.

It's not a closed response, but it's not an invitation to continue the conversation either. You could leave it at that. Decide that you did your part and that, if he doesn't want to talk, you can't force him.

But something in you is resisting. You don't want to leave it at that even though you know you're going to be disappointed and that this, his attitude, won't change overnight.

But at least you can be honest. So you write and send the message before you regret it.

'If you need someone to talk to, I'm here.'

And again, you wait.

Surprisingly, he reads your message within a second. However, disappointment again overcomes you when you read his immediate, curt reply.

'Thanks.'

All hope, anticipation and excitement evaporates from your body. You stand there for a moment doing nothing, thinking about what else to write him, wanting to be more sincere and show him that he's counting on you.

'I mean it. I'm here for you, Aemond.'

That's something you'd like to hear if you're not feeling at your best. Knowing that there's someone who cares about you and your well-being, too, would help a lot.

However, the minutes tick by and this time Aemond's reply never comes. Nor does it come all weekend.

You're hoping that at college maybe he'll reach out after the brief text exchange, even… thank you personally for caring about him, text him or something, you don't even know but you're hoping for something, anything.

But you had to know that he would remain just as distant and cold as always.

Disillusioned, you keep noticing that slight pain he seems to be stuck in but is trying to ignore every time you all get together, without anyone else noticing.

You watch him from a distance, attentive and hopeful, but disappointed that you are unsuccessful in every approach to him to initiate a conversation.

Even after the two of you spoke by message, he has no interest in talking to you in person. And he barely notices your presence, as if you weren't even there.

That hurt you, but you understood that it was about what's going on in his mind and whatever it is that has him so depressed, not because you were really the problem.

So during a meeting on campus waiting for the next class to start, everyone discusses their weekend plans.

“There's a party tonight at the Martell frat house,” Cregan announces excitedly, “It's going to be great, they always know how to make a good scandal.”

Everyone begins to agree to attend, sharing laughs and jokes about the last time they went to a Martell party, even Alysanne and Sara, already planning their outfits for the night, except for you and Aemond.

Parties aren't your favorite place, though you've been to several before and always manage to have a good time with help from the girls. And Aemond being quiet catches Jason's attention.

“You'll come, won't you?” he asks him as he gives him a friendly tap on the shoulder.

He shrugs, starting to take a cigarette from his pocket along with the lighter, not caring at all about the subject of the party.

“I don't know.”

Jason frowns, watching him blankly.

“You don't know?”

“Who doesn't know?” inquires Cregan instantly, listening intently and confused.

Jason points it out but Aemond nonchalantly lights his cigarette, while you watch the interaction of the three of them, but always focus entirely on him.

“But you always come over,” Cregan tells him just as confused as Jason.

“It'll be fun,” Jason continues, ”Besides, it's Friday night. What else could you be doing?”

“I don't really feel like going to a party,” he says, just as nonchalant as before.

“Oh, come on,” Jason urges, “We deserve it, you especially after the hell of projects we've had to submit. We need to de-stress.”

“And besides you'll be with us, what can go wrong?” says Cregan to him with his tone full of optimism, trying to convince him.

“Everything,” he tells him in his equally soft and low tone of voice as always, causing a chuckle between both boys.

“But it'll be fun, come on.”

He focuses his gaze on an unimportant point and you, listening to the conversation intently, feel that little spark in your chest lingering, watching him hopefully for him to say yes.

Then you decide to add your voice to convince him.

“You should come,” you say, catching the attention of the three of them, with your shy but firm look and voice, ”It might be a good distraction and it will help you clear your mind.”

Not exactly the best words but you try and feel your heart start to beat fast in your chest from nerves as you watch his eye meet yours.

But it doesn't last too long as Cregan speaks again.

“Yeah, dude. Let's all go together. I don't think you'll get bored but if you do, we can always leave early or switch parties, whichever is better.”

The three of them watch him expectantly for his response, to which he is a little overwhelmed by the attention. But he finally lets out a resigned sigh, feeling the weight of his friends' expectations, and nods slowly, lowering his gaze and refocusing on his cigarette.

“Fine,” he says in a low but determined voice. “But don't expect me to stay all night.”

The answer sparks a small celebration between Cregan and Jason, who pat him on the back and you avoid smiling big, pursing your lips.

“Great! That's all we asked for, mate.”

“It'll be fun, you'll see.”

Everyone else speaks again, except for him and you, as you stare at him for a brief moment, feeling the spark of hope grow bigger inside you.

Tonight may be the opportunity you need to reach out and create connection with him. Besides, it's a party, everyone will be relaxed and surely he will be too, so you can't miss the opportunity.

The night arrives and with it, the anticipation of the party at the Martell fraternity house.

As you approach the imposing house you notice the pulsating lights and vibrant music that can be heard from yards away, promising a fun and energetic night. With Alysanne and Sara, you see the groups of people talking and laughing at every corner, drinking and smoking.

And as you enter the house, the party is in full bloom, with everyone dancing and having a good time, with the smell of beer, cigarettes and even weed lingering in the air, causing Alysanne and Sara to quickly immerse themselves in the atmosphere, pulling you along with them very excitedly to where everyone is dancing.

The energy around you is contagious and as the minutes pass, you catch yourself laughing and dancing, where your worries momentarily fade away amidst the bright lights and pulsating rhythms, enjoying the moment.

Yet there is still that anticipation in you, that excitement as you look out the front door and in all directions, waiting to see him.

And in the middle of dancing with your friends, singing the songs of the moment at the top of your lungs and enjoying the energy of the whole party, just as your gaze briefly focuses on your surroundings, you finally spot a figure with silver hair moving through the crowd.

With a jolt in your heart, you focus your gaze and recognize Aemond.

He moves with a quiet grace, but his expression is a mixture of discomfort and determination. He weaves his way through the people, his gaze scanning the entire place, as if seeking a refuge or maybe a familiar face.

His posture and energy is oblivious to the frenetic energy of the party with his deliberate movements and nonchalant attitude.

And you continue to watch him, with the hustle and bustle of the party fading around you and focusing entirely on him.

You feel a mixture of relief and happiness at seeing him, relief that he has come and happiness that tonight you will finally be able to get close to him.

Aemond continues to approach the epicenter of the party, when on his way he finally meets Cregan and Jason, who greet him enthusiastically and hand him a drink almost instantly, integrating him into the atmosphere and enveloping him in their conversation.

Over drinks and cigarettes, as well as after some banter and laughter, Aemond finally begins to relax, though his movements are more restrained than the others. He would prefer less noise, but it is a party after all.

And you watch from a distance, seeing how the guys entertain him and integrate him into the party, noticing how his posture relaxes more and his expression softens, holding a bottle of beer in his hand and a cigarette in the other.

You know that now is not the time to get close, you want to let him find his own pace without pressure, so you stay in your place, enjoying the company of your friends and also the whole party.

Afterwards you join your friends for more drinks, they insist on taking pictures and videos together, you dance some more, go to get some fresh air because of how suffocated it is and when you look back towards the guys, Aemond is not there.

Cregan and Jason are there with some girls, but he especially is nowhere to be seen. You begin to feel a twinge of unease and start to move slyly through the crowd, looking for his familiar figure.

Until you decide to approach and ask for him or else you'll never be able to find him among all the people already at the party and the people still still entering the house.

“Hey,” you approach towards them, with a relaxed attitude, trying to look casual, ”Where's Aemond? I saw him arrive earlier.”

Cregan turns to you, smiling, while Jason blinks several times as if trying to remember.

“Oh, yeah, he went out a few minutes ago.”

“I think that way,” Cregan points to the backyard with a nod, ”Maybe he needed air or something, he said he'd be back soon.”

You decide to look for him discreetly, making your way through all the students, but the house is full, even more so than it was a few moments ago, with the heat and bustle starting to make you feel overwhelmed.

You think to yourself that he probably went to the bathroom, but minutes pass and being with the girls, you keep looking for him but he's nowhere to be seen.

And that's when you think about the possibility that he has decided to leave.

This leaves you with an empty feeling in your chest and you look around, letting out a long breath and inevitably already starting to feel disappointed.

You continue to scan the place in hope, but minutes pass and there is no sign of him at all.

“Hey,” Alysanne calls out to you, “What's up?” she watches you intently and with a soft smile on her lips.

“Oh… n-nothing,” you act casual, “I just need to go to the bathroom,” you point out, “I'll be right back, okay?”

“You want me to come with you?”

“No, no, don't worry, it's fine,” you assure her instantly.

Again you make your way through the students and head towards the stairs, hoping to find an empty room or a space with fewer people, since you don't really need to go to the bathroom.

At this point you already feel too overwhelmed with the music and all the people that keep arriving, making it impossible to walk. So you just want to breathe and have some peace and quiet.

Fortunately the corridors on the second floor are not so crowded, there are people, yes, but nothing like down there and you try to open the doors, cautious of course, afraid of interrupting some compromising scene.

Until finally the last door opens and it's an empty room, clearly decorated with the personal touch of one of the frat boys.

You sigh and close the door behind you, stepping inside, barely hearing the sound of music up to here and all the chaos. You plop down on the edge of the bed, trying to calm your mind and feeling the tension in your feet give way after all that dancing.

The minutes pass and although you try to distract yourself with anything on your phone, again the disappointment invades you and so does the thought, without being able to help it.

You have failed to keep in touch with Aemond and at this rate, it seems you will never succeed.

He is quite an enigma, very reserved, indifferent to the attentions that many girls in college would long to receive from him and that is what confuses you.

You think of his brother Aegon, whose behavior is the complete opposite.

Aegon adores the attention of girls, his adventures are scattered all over campus and yet, Aemond is a mystery, so secretive that even a simple friendship with him seems out of reach.

And these differences between the two brothers only add another layer of confusion to your feelings for Aemond. You can't help but wonder why someone like him, so aloof and closed off, appeals to you so much.

He won't even give you the time of day, he barely acknowledges your existence when you're in a group with the guys, his gaze barely rests on you, and whenever you try to talk to him, he barely responds and then brushes you aside with an indifference that leaves you feeling completely invisible.

Then why? Why do you keep trying?

You don't even know.

You get up and start walking slowly around the room, trying to calm your thoughts, not really knowing what to do.

You think maybe you should go back to your dorm, since you really don't want to go back down there with all the people and the commotion. But you know that Alysanne and Sara are still enjoying themselves and you leave alone.

You sit back down on the bed and run a hand across your forehead, letting out a sigh, when suddenly, the bedroom door opens and you look up almost instantly.

And then your heart leaps with anticipation and surprise.

Aemond appears under the threshold, his eye meeting yours and you both stand for a moment motionless, saying nothing.

He scans your face and the room as well, while you continue to stare at him in surprise, definitely not expecting him to appear here at all. And there's something particularly in his gaze that tells you he's also looking for shelter from the party. When again his gaze focuses on you.

"I'm sorry," he says to you, in a low, unconcerned voice, "I didn't know anyone was here."

You say nothing for a few seconds, but force yourself to react.

"It's okay," you say quickly, trying to sound calm, "Don't worry."

Again the anticipation grows inside you, this time stronger, mingling with unexpected joy.

He is not gone.

He is here.

And that rekindles the spark of hope in you, which makes you strive to keep your expression relaxed and less surprised, trying to look completely casual and act normal.

A silence settles between you, one that is both awkward and full of potential, to which you try to speak but Aemond speaks first, taking a step back and with his hand still on the knob.

"Am I bothering you?" he asks, his gaze studying you.

"No, not at all," you reply immediately, your words coming out a little more hastily than you intended.

This instantly embarrasses you and you lower your gaze for a moment, clearing your throat.

"I mean, no," you say more relaxed and in a soft tone, "It's okay if you stay. You're not bothering me," you offer him a small, tight-lipped smile, "I guess you want to hide for a while."

He looks out into the hallway, seeming to consider your words for a moment, then lets out a sigh, again watching you and finally enters the room with soft steps, closing the door behind him.

"From Cregan and Jason specifically."

You let out a small chuckle under your breath, wanting to create that light and easy atmosphere between the two of you by being open and relaxed with him so as to get him to loosen up a bit more with you.

You remain seated on the bed, as he walks over to the window and begins to pull his pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket along with his lighter.

With a deft movement, he lights the cigarette, where the small flame briefly illuminates his features before a ball of smoke dissipates into the room.

He opens the window and all the commotion outside is heard more clearly, but not enough for both of you to feel annoyed with it, feeling the night air come in to envelop you.

And you continue to sit, trying not to watch him too much, though it's impossible, he is Aemond Targaryen after all.

Still you search for something to say as he stands in a casual pose by the window, smoking and watching the night sky.

"Are you all right?" you ask finally, breaking the silence, your tone soft and gentle, not wanting to seem intrusive.

He nods, not watching you, with the smoke from the cigarette wafting around his face.

"Yeah," he replies in a distant tone, but you notice how thoughts keep running through his mind, "I'm fine."

You omit to let out a long sigh as you gently bite the inside of your cheek and watch him silently for a moment, thinking of something else to say.

Even he doesn't feel your gaze on him, where you silently admire his straight profile, his set jaw, the high cheekbones, the line of his nose, his lips... all his completely beautiful features and so ethereal.

And yet, all those beautiful features have a weight of sadness and tension, where you can see how a tide of thoughts cross his mind that seemingly only you can notice.

You see his barely-there frown and the tension in his jaw, lost in thought, with the cigarette slowly burning away between his long fingers.

You are torn between remaining silent or trying to break the ice surrounding it. You know that your words must be carefully chosen, not pushing but showing your genuine concern.

So you think your words through very carefully and finally decide to take a chance, hoping that your sincerity might do something, anything.

"I've noticed you've been... distant lately," you say, in a soft voice, "More than usual."

He doesn't respond right away, but you notice a slight tension in his shoulders. He takes a deep drag from his cigarette before exhaling slowly, his gaze still fixed on some point beyond the window, as if he's searching for answers in the dark.

Finally, he shakes his head and again responds without looking at you.

"It's nothing, just..." he is quiet for a moment, "Nothing that really matters to anyone."

Your eyebrows furrow slightly and you feel compelled to speak without thinking too much.

"It matters to me," you say in a soft tone, your gaze fixed on him, trying to let him see the sincerity in your eyes.

He slowly turns to you, finally watching you, his expression suddenly alert. There is a mixture of curiosity and anticipation on his face.

"And why would that be?" he asks you, his tone serious and slightly defensive, his frown showing his confusion, clearly not believing your words, "You don't even know me, nor I you."

The words that have come out of you so spontaneously now leave you vulnerable, but you can't back down. You feel a slight blush creep up your cheeks, but you try to stand firm even in your words.

"We're part of the same group of friends," you reply softly, your gaze fixed on him, trying to keep your composure, "We don't talk much, it's true, but I still care about you. Just like I care about everyone else."

He doesn't say anything to you right away. From a distance, he just stands there, watching you. The dim light in the room outlines the lines of his face in soft shadows.

You try not to look away from him, despite how overly intimidated and nervous you feel. And then, as if he is evaluating your words, he looks away and you see a small but visible smile curving his lips, to again raise the cigarette towards them.

"Is that so?" he murmurs and then takes a drag.

You find the scene hypnotic. The way he smokes. A simple action making him look so sexy.

And realizing you're making progress here, when you hadn't even seen him smile the way he just did, you decide to continue to be honest.

"I'm here for you Aemond, I mean it," you murmur, without hesitation, feeling the warmth of your own words. "Either way."

You watch him stare out the window for a few moments, taking another drag on his cigarette and then, he turns fully towards you.

His eye watches you with intensity and you see how there is an indecipherable glint. He tilts his head slightly, watching as he slowly sweeps his gaze over you, igniting all your alerts in you.

Still, you hold his gaze, despite the way he seems to evaluate you and make you feel exposed. He searches for the truth in your every word, as if he's waiting for you to take it back, to hesitate and consider what you're telling him.

But you don't.

Then, with the cigarette slowly burning between his fingers, with a nonchalant movement, he stubs it out against a piece of furniture in the room. And then, he moves slowly and precisely, towards you.

One step. Another step. And another. Each one filling the space between you until the distance is minimal. Until you feel his proximity and your skin bristles, before he even touches you.

Enraptured, you slowly raise your gaze to him as he steps in front of you. His knees brush lightly against yours and his fragrance envelops you, a faint mixture of cigarettes and his cologne that smells too good and intoxicating.

Your heart begins to beat quite hard and fast in your chest, not understanding what is going on. But you don't want it to end.

And being like this, in this way, makes everything even more interesting. You continue to sit on the edge of the bed, while he stands in front of you, looking at your face more closely.

The silence stretches and you see the curve of his lips lift slightly as he sees no hesitation in you. And when he speaks, his voice is low, deep and soft, infused with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

"Either way?"

His words aren't just a question. They are a challenge. A provocation.

And you don't look away, as you watch him with your big eyes, not backing down. And then, you nod.

The blue of his eye seems to darken with your response, as if you've ignited something inside him. Then, he lifts a hand and with exasperating slowness, directs it to your face and his long fingers brush your cheek.

Holding your breath, you watch him curiously and attentively, as he tests the ground, your reaction. And then his caress becomes firmer. His fingers run along the line of your jaw, slowly ascending to tangle at the base of your hair.

His thumb slides to the corner of your lips, tracing the contour with a softness that contrasts with the intensity of his gaze, while you have to remind yourself how to breathe.

"Then say it," he murmurs, leaning in just barely.

Your throat feels dry. Your lips part, watching him completely mesmerized and unable to believe this is really happening. Your words get stuck, because in this moment, with Aemond so close, with his touch igniting every part of your body, you realize there's no turning back.

"Either way," you assure him in a soft, slightly trembling voice.

"And how far does either way go?"

He holds your gaze, that blue eye burning and as if he can see right through you, something dangerous and exciting.

His hand on your face is firm, but his thumb keeps tracing slow circles at the corner of your lips, almost in a distracted, shuddering caress. He is waiting, testing you.

"As far as you need," you murmur, without hesitation.

He tilts his head and suddenly, his free hand takes your arm, making you rise from the bed as his hand on your cheek is firmer, keeping you right where he wants you.

"So any way I need?" he murmurs, a barely raspy, enveloping whisper that seems to filter through your skin.

He leans in, until you feel his nose brush against yours. And you close your eyes for a moment, trying to contain the whirlwind of emotions he's nothing short of unleashing in you.

"Yes," you say in a whisper, trying to stand on your own two feet.

Suddenly his hand on your waist grips you firmly and tightly, holding you in his orbit with an ease that takes your breath away. There is no pressure, no urgency, just a silent possession that feels more dangerous than any words.

He leans closer to you, his face descending in a movement so slow it almost seems deliberate, as if he wants to lengthen the moment, as if he's enjoying the way your breath hitches, in how your lips barely part, in the way your pupils dilate as the space between you disappears.

His breath, warm with the faint trace of cigarette and mint, mingles with yours. Until his lips brush yours in a touch so ephemeral that it seems like an illusion.

A silent provocation. It's not an immediate kiss. No. He takes his time, brushing his mouth over yours torturously slow, as if giving you a chance to pull away, to stop him.

But you don't. Because you don't want to. Because you want him, so badly.

And when your body leans slightly into him, a sigh escapes your mouth before you can avoid it, needing him. And that seems to be all he needs, because then, you feel it.

His lips slide over yours with devastating precision, trapping you in a kiss that leaves no room to breathe. His hand on your cheek holds you by the back of your neck, while the hand on your waist pulls you closer to him.

He closes in a little more, tilting your face towards him as his other hand slowly slides down your waist, drawing you closer, eliminating any chink of space between your bodies.

The kiss intensifies as his tongue brushes against yours, soft, teasing, exploring with a patience and assurance that makes you shiver. Aemond does not rush. There is no desperation in his touch, just something darker, deeper, as if he wants to memorize your every reaction, every tremor of your body beneath his.

Then it's deeper and more demanding.

You have to cling to his shirt, to the folds of fabric between your fingers, because suddenly you're not sure you can stand without him.

And when he finally pulls away, just a little, just enough to look at you with that fiery blue eye, lips parted and breath hitching, you know nothing will ever be the same again.

"Tell me again," he murmurs against your lips, his forehead touching yours.

With your heart racing, you manage to hold his gaze and find the words to speak, when all you want to do is keep kissing him.

"I'm here for you, Aemond," you say, your tone soft, but confident, "Either way," you complete, without a hint of hesitation.

His gaze darkens. And then, he kisses you again.

And from that moment, that's when it all began. But only when you were alone.

There were no words about it, no questions, no explanations. The next day, Aemond behaved the same as always: serious, distant, impenetrable when you were surrounded by people.

There were no glances, no brushes, no hint that anything had happened the night before. But at some point in the night, he showed up. A short message.

A silent signal that gave way to the change in your relationship with him.

The first time you went to his apartment, there was no doubt or hesitation. He opened the door without a word and you walked in, feeling the warmth of his gaze following you closely. There were no words other than cordial ones and then there was no more preamble.

His way of touching you was firm, decisive, as if he had known you forever, as if he knew exactly what to do to make everything else disappear.

And in those moments, with his breath brushing against your skin and his hands roaming your body, you understood what this was.

It was just sex. But, surprisingly, there was something more.

Something that wasn't said out loud, but it was there, in the way his fingers lingered on your skin after it was all over. He wasn't asking you to stay, but he wasn't asking you to leave either. And somehow, that was enough.

That's how the dynamic between you began.

There were no explicit rules, but the boundaries were clear. The relationship was not based solely on desire, though.

When the two of you were alone, Aemond wasn't his usual self. He wasn't the cold, serious man everyone knew. With you, when the door closed and the world was outside, his expression changed. His barriers would crumble, if only for a moment.

There were nights when, after all, he would simply lie beside you, tangling his fingers in your hair in silence. He would tell you things he never told anyone, fragments of his mind that he rarely shared. And so did you with him.

It wasn't that he was affectionate, for Aemond is not that kind of person. But in the quiet of the night, when you were alone, he allowed himself to be something more than the impenetrable man everyone thought they knew.

In public, however, nothing changed.

He didn't ignore you, but he didn't treat you differently either. If you shared a room with others, he was the same old Aemond: observant, reserved, with an expression no one could read.

There were no signs of what went on when you were alone. It wasn't that he was ashamed of what you had, but he wasn't interested in letting the world know either.

And there were times when you wondered if this was enough for you. If you could go through with this, whatever it was, that existed only in the shadows. The doubt kept you up most of the night and distracted in your classes.

But then, there came the moments that made you forget those doubts.

When he had you against the wall or under his body, his mouth claiming yours with deep, electrifying movements, demanding and possessive.

There was tenderness in the small gestures, in the way he ran his fingers down your back after all, in the way he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear before kissing you again.

But all that only existed when it was just the two of you.

A delicate balance between what was allowed and what was not. A secret kept within four walls, where Aemond allowed himself to be more than just the man everyone knew. Where you are one of the few people he allows to see him as he really is.

And that, for now, is enough for you.

“Gods, Aemond.”

The sensation of his wet tongue exploring your pussy takes over every part of your mind and body. Your fingers grip his hair as your hips begin to roll into his face, unable to contain yourself and unable to stop the moans that escape your lips.

You let your head fall back against his pillow, closing your eyes and furrowing your brows in pleasure as you feel his lips suck and lick your clit.

Your thighs rest against his shoulders, as his arms spread you even wider for him, letting him see all of you. He feasts, tasting his saliva and your juices, unable to get enough of you.

Your whole body writhes, having no escape from his grip, as your moans and the sound of his tongue working on you fill his room. When a suck on your clit especially makes you shudder, feeling the reach of your orgasm sooner than you expected.

“Oh my—fuck, I'm gonna come,” you gasp, warning quickly.

“Yeah?” he asks you, pulling slightly away from your pussy, “Are you close, baby?”

You can't speak, just nod.

Then you throw your head back hard, moaning as his tongue finds its way through all your wetness again and one of his fingers enters you, further stimulating the arrival of your orgasm.

“Oh, fuck! Yes, Aem—

He watches you from where he is, still eating you, delighting in your expression and the way you squirm.

You bring both of your hands up to hold your breasts tightly, biting your lips and moaning loudly, feeling the heated pleasure hit you with intensity. He keeps sucking you, prolonging your orgasm, while you moan and see stars behind your eyes.

The perfect scene to make his cock harder.

He gives you one last kiss on your clit as you calm down and he moves up your body, bringing one of his hands to one of your breasts, cupping it and kneading it firmly.

His face leans toward you and he kisses you, letting you taste your flavor as he has so many times before. You feel dizzy, exhausted and overheated. But you know none of this ends here.

So you open your arms, embracing him as he makes room between your legs, never stopping kissing you.

“So pretty. So good for me,” he whispers against your lips with desire.

Hot and heavy, Aemond presses his cock against you, pressing it deliciously against your clit. You furrow your brows and gasp, still feeling the weight of your earlier, intense orgasm.

But you want more, more of him.

“Please,” you moan, rolling your hips against him, ”I want you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? You want that?”

Everything about him is intoxicating, enthralling, dazzling and hypnotic. You don't think clearly. Much less in sex. So you just nod, needing more of him. Your pussy clenches around nothing and it frustrates you, so you grind your hips harder against his cock.

“Don't worry. I'm going to fuck you just right,” he tells you then leaves a soft kiss on your cheek.

Agitated, you watch as he removes his boxers and his hard cock slams against his lower abdomen. Big, pale and hot.

He reaches over to his nightstand drawer, grabbing a condom. He puts it on quickly and brings the tip to your folds, wetting it with your juices and slowly opening you for him.

The contact makes you shudder and you cling to his shoulders as he slowly begins to open you up. The sensation invades you almost instantly, intoxicating you, as he fills you to the hilt.

You watch him with your mouth open, as his eye bores into yours and he drops down for a moment to watch perfectly as the two of you join, hissing, staying still afterwards to give you time to adjust.

You've felt it many times before, it's not new, you can take it in completely. Yet it feels like the first time, every time.

And then, he begins his gentle back and forth, moving in and out of you slowly, at the same time burying his face in your neck, sighing as he feels your perfect pussy squeeze him.

“Oh fuck,” he gasps in your ear, sending shivers through your body, “Squeezing me so fucking tight. Feels so good. So deep in your pretty pussy.”

“Feels good. So good, Aemond.”

Then, he begins to penetrate you with steadier movements, deep and hard.

The air leaves your lungs, as you cling to his shoulders and hug him against you as you feel his warm breath against your neck each time he thrusts inside you again.

You whimper, feeling him keep up the steady rhythm, making you bite your lip at the delicious sensation that soothes the need you feel deep inside you.

“Oh Gods,” you moan, ”Oh yes.”

His onslaught is faster and more energetic, penetrating you harder.

“That's it, baby. Wrap your legs around my torso,” he commands you in a soft, but firm, deep voice, full of lust.

And you do, desperate to feel him deeper inside you. The sound of skin against skin along with moans and gasps are all you hear in the room.

“Yeah, just like that,” he croons in your ear, ”Good girl. Just for me.”

All he gets from you is that you squeeze his cock harder. And he speeds up his movements, as he steals your breath with each thrust.

Aemond grunts and leans in a little, raising one hand to grab the edge of the bed's backrest for support to hit your exact spot with more precision and you whimper, arching your back at the delicious sensation.

He watches your every expression pleased, digging his fingers even deeper into the wood and with his other hand your skin, enjoying your pretty sounds that you make only for him.

“Aemond,” you moan.

Resting your head on the pillow and moaning without caring about anything else, you collapse. You tremble beneath him, your eyes roll back in your head, and you explode with an intensity stronger than your previous orgasm.

Feeling the way you squeeze him, he speeds up his movements, his thrusts faster and harder, reaching his own orgasm. He grunts and buries his face in your neck, grabbing one of your breasts hard as he cums inside you.

He curses, as he drops his body on top of you, breathing hard and his pulse too fast.

Then, complete silence.

Neither of you say or do anything. You both try to regulate your breathing and calm down from the high. Then, he leaves a soft kiss on your cheek, with his hand holding your face to then begin a brief trail of kisses to your lips. He kisses you deeply and finally leaves a last kiss on your forehead.

It feels like heaven and everything about him completely consumes you. It drugs you and floods you in the way you don't want it to stop. And you deeply wish time would stop so you can enjoy the moment forever.

But then, he gets off of you and lies down next to you letting out a sigh. And suddenly, coldness. There is no more affection or the warmth he used to give you.

You cover yourself with the sheets and watch him almost out of the corner of your eye. You want to get close to him, to hug him and have him make you feel safe and well cared for after the act of intimacy, like before.

But before you even try anything, he reaches over and takes from his nightstand a cigarette, lighting it. He makes himself comfortable in his own way and takes drags while staring at the ceiling or a spot in the room.

You bite your lips and look away from him, having no idea what to say.

The smoke reaches your nostrils and you both stay like that, existing, saying and doing nothing for a few long minutes. Then you see the time and it's late.

It's dangerous for you to go home by yourself, even in an Uber. And by his behavior, you doubt that he will tell you that you can stay or that he will drive you home.

You don't want to be later so you let out a long breath and without looking at him, you sit up with the sheets on your chest and start looking for your clothes.

"Where are you going?"

His question surprises you and catches you off guard instantly, so you turn to look at him a little uncertainly as you tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

"It's late. I should be going."

He checks the time too and watches you with a frown.

"Don't you want to stay?"

"Hum... I don't know," you shrug, "You want me to?"

"Yeah," he says nonchalantly, "You've stayed many times before."

"Yeah, I know, but... I don't know. I thought you didn't want me to stay this time."

He holds his frown as you watch him exhale smoke from between his parted lips, making a confused gesture with his head.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just thought about it," you shake your head, averting your gaze from him.

You feel his gaze on you as you bend over and pull on your shirt so you don't sleep completely naked. And he doesn't even tell you to wear his, like he used to a time ago.

He used to tell you that he loved seeing how his shirts looked on you and now... nothing.

"I'll drive you home in the morning. Don't worry," he tells you in that again nonchalant and... distant tone.

"Yeah," you murmur, turning to lie down next to him.

He lasts a few more minutes smoking his cigarette staring at the ceiling and nothing else, while you silently watch the features of his handsome face and the movements he makes with his hand and cigarette.

Finally he stubs out and throws what little is left of it in the trash, then turns off the lamp and begins to settle in next to you. He leans towards you, puts an arm behind your head and pulls your body towards him to sleep together, as before.

You place your head between his chest and neck as he wraps both arms around you and rests his head on yours, releasing a long breath to finally fall asleep.

For a moment, the action and the way you both are comforts you. His closeness and the way he holds you, makes you feel safe, comfortable, warm and makes those butterflies flutter in your stomach.

But you notice the little differences.

His touch is different, his nonchalant and distant attitude is transmitted through his movements and this... it felt like a mechanical movement, a movement caused by habit and almost forced.

It's like he has to, not because he really wants to. There are no little kisses or little caresses before bedtime while he holds you. Nothing. He doesn't make you feel the way he used to.

But at least he holds you.

And you settle for that, still with sadness in your heart and with the feeling that something has changed and you don't know what it is but, it gives you a bad feeling.

At least he's still doing these little things that used to make you happy. But... again, it's not like before.

You prepare breakfast for Aemond and yourself.

You woke up earlier than usual just so you could prepare a decent breakfast for him so he wouldn't go to class on an empty stomach.

You know that his classes start earlier in the day compared to yours and you have been listening to him take a shower for a while and now he is probably finishing getting ready to leave.

A few minutes ago you received messages from Sara asking you where you will celebrate your birthday tomorrow. You just had to tell her a place and she and the guys will take care of the rest.

You feel visibly excited about it. Although Aemond hasn't talked to you about any of that but... you are hopeful.

At that moment he appears down the hallway, ready to go to class, heading quickly towards the living room where his backpack is, shooting you a brief glance.

"What are you doing?"

"I made breakfast," you tell him, making him coffee the way he likes it.

"I don't have time," he tells you hurriedly, not even looking at you.

That makes you stop and look at him confused.

You shouldn't either, in fact, they are little things that anyone would tell you are unimportant but... you notice them and it sets off another alarm in you.

"Aren't you going to have breakfast?" you ask him confused.

"No."

"But you always eat breakfast even if you're late."

"I can't now, Y/N. My first class is important," he tells you again with that coldness and almost... annoyance.

You watch him for a few seconds without saying anything. And then you watch all the breakfast ready in front of you as you bite the inside of your cheek, again feeling that bad feeling and discomfort running inside your body.

"Go get changed so I can drop you off at the dorm in passing," he tells you, "I don't have much time. We have to go now."

Surprisingly you don't want to.

Normally you would have accepted without even hesitating but now...you feel like you're annoying him and you don't want to do that with this too. Besides, he looks very rushed.

"Don't worry. I'll take the bus," you say without emotion, leaving everything on the table and heading towards his room to change.

"As you wish," he says behind you, unconcerned.

A sharp pain settles in your chest and you try to control yourself, not wanting to overthink things, even though you are already doing so.

With the sadness inside you, taking your time, you change and improve your appearance just a little. Normally you would have taken a shower here too but now you don't want to do any of that. You just want to go home.

You're barely finishing putting on your pants when you see him appear under the door frame with his backpack on his shoulder.

"Hey," he says to you in a surprisingly soft tone compared to a few seconds ago, "What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"

"Huh?" you look at him confused and attentive.

"Do you have plans tomorrow afternoon?"

You think about it for a moment, not expecting his question.

"Hum... no, not yet. In the night it's just the hanging out with the guys."

"Yeah, I know. But I thought we could do something the two of us before we go meet them."

And then, again that little hope appears and every ugly feeling from before is replaced.

My birthday.

You think instantly, feeling hopeful and excited. Surely he has a surprise for you and everything you were thinking before about his attitude and behavior, surely it's just because he has a lot to do regarding his classes and it really has nothing to do with you.

"Like what?"

He puts on a small half smile.

"Just be ready at six. I'll call you and pick you up."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, sure," you nod, smiling softly.

"Okay," he murmurs, "I'll see you later, then."

"Yeah. Drive safe."

He leaves and eventually so do you, it being a common routine where you know how to secure the door to his apartment when you're the last to leave.

Despite attending to your classes and work, you couldn't help but think of a thousand ways and things to do where Aemond will probably surprise you.

You didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. You texted him once you got to your residence and your day was almost over but he didn't respond.

Then you took a shower, finished some chores and watched a new episode of the show you are currently watching. Every once in a while you couldn't help but check your phone to see if you got a message from him or if he called you, but nothing.

Until eventually you fell asleep.

And the next morning, when you wake up, it's your birthday.

You get lots of messages and congratulations from your friends. Sara tags you on many Instagram stories wishing you a happy birthday. Other of your classmates also congratulate you and you spend part of the morning smiling and replying messages.

You FaceTime with your parents and family members you haven't seen in months. Even though the vacations are fast approaching, you've already made plans with Aemond to stay with him.

You receive more congratulations from cousins, aunts and uncles, you also talk to your grandparents and answer more messages from your friends.

Until you look for a specific person, there is nothing. Aemond hasn't texted or called you. The message you sent him yesterday he hasn't even seen it and that seems weird to you.

But the day is just starting so there is still plenty of time.

You also remember that he has something prepared for you this afternoon, so you look forward to whatever it will be. You know he will text or call you later.

You get ready and choose an outfit that makes it clear that this is your special day. You do waves in your hair and make your makeup a little more bold. Finally you apply lip gloss and head to campus.

You meet your classmates, they give you their best wishes, your professors also congratulate you on your birthday and your day is potentially going great.

Still, the hours pass and Aemond still hasn't contacted you.

That seems weird to you. But it's still early. So you follow the corresponding schedule of your classes and keep your mind busy for a couple more hours.

You finally get an hour's break and take a seat at one of the tables outside in one of the many gardens on campus. You pick up your phone and frown when you see that Aemond still hasn't texted you.

Confused, and just to put your mind at ease, you decide to text him yourself, asking if he's okay. But the messages don't reach him, confusing you and drawing your attention even more.

Either he has no signal wherever he is or his phone is turned off, which is very weird.

You tell yourself that surely he must be busy and will call you soon. You mean... he has to, right? It's your birthday and he has a plan for the two of you in a few more hours.

At that moment, you run into Jason, Cregan and Sara, who lock you in a tight group hug, congratulating you on your birthday and making a bit of a fuss.

"How's the birthday girl doing?" Jason asks you, smiling.

"Great," you assure him.

"Did you get any presents?" asks Sara.

"Mmm… yes, from some classmates," you reply with a small soft smile, "My mom also send a video with my little brothers. We promised to celebrate when I see them on vacation," you pause for a moment, hesitating if you should ask what's really on your mind.

But finally, you decide to do it in the most casual way possible.

"Oh and... have either of you seen Aemond?"

"I haven't," says Sara.

"I called him but sent me straight to mailbox," says Cregan.

"I think I saw him heading toward that building," Jason points out, "About two hours ago."

So he did come to class.

That's what your mind immediately thinks. But you don't understand what's going on with his phone.

"Yet he said he's going to the pub later," Cregan says.

"Yeah, that's where the whole group will finally be together," agrees Sara cheerfully.

Well, at least you know he's okay. And if he doesn't text or call you, you're sure he'll pick you up at your dorm like he said he would.

You linger for a few more moments chatting with the guys until eventually everyone heads off to their next class, hours pass and you finally finish your classes.

You quickly head to your residence to touch up your makeup and put on another outfit. You have exactly half an hour until six o'clock and Aemond arrives.

You put on your playlist of the moment and undecidedly start looking at all the outfits that are for the whole occasion. You don't know where Aemond will take you so you want to be prepared in case of anything.

You also make sure of your lingerie.

You recently bought a couple of new outfits and now seems like the time to break in a new one.

With Aemond it's almost a law that you'll both find the time wherever it is to obviously do... that. He's insatiable and goes crazy over every new outfit you put on and you really want to surprise him.

You finally finish getting ready and look at the time on your phone, it's exactly six o'clock. And excited, you wait for him.

Usually Aemond is very punctual. The time he says he will arrive, he arrives exactly at that time. But ten long, eternal minutes go by and he doesn't show up. And that really seems very weird to you.

Then fifteen, twenty minutes and he still doesn't show up.

If something got in his way, he would usually let you know. But you don't get a text or a call from him. So you decide to call him yourself.

Finally the call comes in and you wait for him to answer, relieved that his phone has a signal or is on, whatever happened. But he doesn't answer.

You call again, nothing. And again, nothing. Bewildered, you text him, telling him you're waiting for him. But nothing, he doesn't answer, doesn't tell you anything, doesn't even read them.

You start anxiously moving your foot up and down and call him a couple more times, but he doesn't answer. And that's what happens for over an hour, waiting for him to call you or say something, anything, but nothing.

Feelings of disappointment, sadness and anger wash over you. You plop down on your bed and continue to stare at your phone waiting for something, anything, with a bitter look on your face. But, again and as lately, nothing.

He hasn't even said happy birthday. He hasn't said anything at all. And the plan for both of you, completely forgotten.

When then, a terrible realization begins to dawn on you.

He maybe...?

No.

You immediately say to yourself, in denial.

He hasn't forgotten your birthday. He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't do that to you. He couldn't.

Frustrated, you let out a long breath as the thought begins to creep deeper and deeper into your mind. Not leaving you alone and wanting to convince you that's exactly what happened. Or else he would have responded to your message from this morning and you both would be together right now.

But you tell yourself that maybe something happened. Something he didn't plan for. Maybe something important and he can't communicate it now, but eventually he will.

You're sure he wouldn't do something like this to you, so it must be something unexpected and important.

You chase away all the negative things you're thinking and think about Cregan saying he's going to the pub anyway. You know that right there he'll give you an explanation and make it up to you, you're pretty sure.

So you wait for the time you agreed to show up at the pub with Sara, all the time still hoping to hear something from Aemond, anything. But nothing.

Finally he arrives.

His arrival completely steals your attention. You watch as he enters the pub with a completely disinterested and... resigned look on his face. As if he doesn't really want to be here.

This gets your attention even more but in front of the others, you hide it and don't immediately approach him, as if you haven't been waiting for him all this time.

Jason and Cregan literally rush towards him, while you sit there talking to Sara and your other classmates continue to talk and drink.

Sara is talking but you're not really listening to her, as out of the corner of your eye you watch him, talking to the guys with a tense posture and a somewhat irritated look on his face.

And after a few minutes, the guys practically drag him over to the table where you are, cheering him on.

The three of them take a seat, he specifically in front of you and all he does is give you and Sara a slight nod of his head in greeting and... that's it.

And that's the point where you finally don't understand anything.

He hasn't even said happy birthday to you. Nor does he give you the signal to both speak privately. He doesn't even seem to have your numerous missed calls and messages you left him in mind.

What's wrong with him?

He's looking all around, until the moment comes when, of course, he takes his lighter and his cigarette and doesn't even glance at you. He doesn't join in the conversation either. He doesn't really do anything.

And you start looking for the perfect opportunity to approach him and ask him to explain himself.

And you think it finally comes when he gets up and says he's going to get a drink, heading with dispassionate movements towards the bar.

But the bar is in plain sight and your drink is still full. So you start taking quick sips to finish it without drawing attention to yourself. Still, you watch him and are more confused when you see him with his back to you typing on his phone, waiting for his drink.

There's no way he hasn't noticed the numerous messages you've left him.

You don't understand why he hasn't spoken to you all day and why he seems to be ignoring you. You just don't understand anything.

And just as you're about to get up to go with him, he returns with drink in hand and a seriousness in his eyes that you haven't seen for a long time. So you last a long time at the table, talking to the guys, waiting for the opportunity that keeps not coming as time goes by.

You also talk to your classmates at the other table and from time to time you watch him, if not all the time, wanting him to look back at you but nothing.

He seems distracted, serious and irritated. Everything about him you can see and notice.

When suddenly he stands up without a word and you watch intently as he heads for the restroom.

The perfect opportunity!

From the tables where everyone is sitting, they can't see the small hallway leading to the restrooms. So you let a few small seconds pass, act all normal and casual, and finally get up and tell Sara that you will go to the restroom and will be back in a moment.

You do everything normal, although you don't really do anything inside the restroom, except stand at the entrance and listen attentively for the moment when the men's restrooms door opens so you can go out and bump into him.

And that's what you do the moment you hear the door open, hoping it's him and not someone else.

And to your good fortune, it's him. And he watches you the instant your figure appears in front of him, both of you stopping your steps.

"Hey," you say a little uncertainly, looking at him slightly confused and with nervousness creeping over you.

And he speaks to you with the most disinterested and cold tone he has ever addressed you with. His gaze cold and distant.

"Hey."

This confuses you even more and you decide to get to the point directly, needing to know what's wrong with him.

"Are you okay?"

He frowns, as if your question is absurd.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well... I haven't heard from you all day. I called you many times and left you several messages, but you didn't get back to me."

Aemond raises an eyebrow, as if he doesn't understand what you're saying and starts pulling his phone out of his pocket, seemingly unconcerned.

"You did?"

"Yes," you say, feeling more lost than ever, "I wait for you."

"For what?"

You stare at him incredulously and with all the bewilderment in your gaze, parting your lips.

"For what?" you repeat, not understanding, "Yesterday you said you'd pick me up at six. You didn't tell me where we were going and so I kept calling and texting you but you never answered. You didn't even let me know you weren't coming," you say looking at him confused, "Something happened or... you forgot?"

The change in his gaze is subtle, but you can see it. Something inside him softens, watching you silently, with realization. And upon seeing your gaze, he averts his gaze full of resignation as he takes a deep breath and runs a hand over his face.

"Fuck," he mutters.

And you watch him the whole time, clearly waiting for an explanation.

"Sorry," he finally says, watching you and his voice deepens, "I forgot. I was busy."

You blink, watching him sadly and uncomprehendingly, frowning at him.

"You forgot?" you repeat in a mumble, shaking your head and shrugging.

"It wasn't intentional," he tells you in a more serious tone, "I was busy and I'm really sorry. I'll make it up to you later, okay?"

But something in his words doesn't convince you, and you continue to stare at him with that look that begs for deeper answers.

"But why would you forget? Where were you?"

"I already told you I was busy."

"Yes but you were the one who told me that—

"I know," he cuts you off sharply, "And I forgot because, for the fourth time, I was busy. Now stop making a big deal out of it and stop whining like a little girl."

Pain flashes across your face as you take a step back, bewildered and surprised.

He has never spoken to you this way before. Nor has he ever behaved with you the way he is behaving now. You just don't understand. But then... again that thought comes to your mind as you watch him with your parted lips.

The realization comes and hits you to make you see the reality. And you watch it sadder and more confused than before.

"You don't even know what today is? Did you forget too?" you ask him with your voice cracking in disappointment and disbelief, "I-I... I just... I just wanted to know if you were okay and where you were. And I don't think it's fair that—

"Look," he says, interrupting you with a coldness and a look full of annoyance, "Just because we slept together doesn't mean you're my girlfriend Y/N, because you're not. Let's make it fucking clear to you once and for all and stop thinking you have the right to demand explanations from me that I don't have to give you. You're just a convenient fuck and that's all, do you understand?"

His words fall like a weight on your chest and everything around you seems to stop. Your breath catches and your throat closes as you stand there, not knowing what to do and unable to believe what you just heard.

You can't believe he, he, said that.

Not the Aemond who looked at you with that intensity that seemed to promise more, who always found a way to make you feel special, even if it was in the privacy of bed or in the shadows of your moments together.

But here he is, looking at you coldly and honestly, also with some annoyance, as if you were just another problem he doesn't need to solve, but to get rid of. And really meaning every word he says.

You don't say anything. You just can't. The lump in your throat makes it impossible for you to speak and tears burn in your eyes, threatening to fall.

You try to stand firm, but every second that passes is a struggle not to break down in front of him. When then, you hear Sara's voice.

"There you are!"

She exclaims, approaching with a huge smile.

"What are you doing? We're waiting for you. It's time to sing happy birthday."

You don't see it but the confusion in Aemond's eye appears when Sara mentions the word birthday.

And you nod, biting the inside of your cheek, instantly pretending that everything is perfectly fine and you weren't heartbroken just a few seconds ago.

You swallow hard, controlling yourself.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go."

She takes your arm and leads you along with her towards the table with the candle-decorated cake that all your friends together have bought for you.

Sara also makes sure to place your gifts around for pictures while you take a seat in the middle in full view of everyone and continue to hold your ground.

Aemond eventually approaches the table as well, you feel his closeness without even looking him, at the same time as everyone starts singing for you.

The room is filled with laughter and voices, with the hubbub of your friends singing a rousing and somewhat off-key version of 'happy birthday'. Sara is at your side, smiling radiantly, as the others raise their glasses, animated and happy.

And you... you smile too.

A wide, almost perfect smile that seems to fit the scene. But inside, you feel how every second that passes is like a knife pressing against your heart. An uncomfortable knot forms in your chest as you struggle to keep your composure.

Don't cry. Don't cry now.

You repeat yourself over and over, forcing yourself to keep up the facade. You know your friends are here for you, that they really want to see you happy, but all you can think about are Aemond's words and how he reduced you to something insignificant.

Your hands are tense, clenching the edges of the table as if that will keep you on your feet.

Your jaw aches from pretending so much, from holding back the tears that burn in your eyes. But, fortunately, you're doing a good job and no one notices.

However, you don't know it either but Aemond does.

He has come close enough to see your face. And although at first glance you look radiant, he knows you too well and something in your smile, in your eyes, tells him the truth and that smile is not real.

You don't see it, but you feel his gaze on you, so intense. As he purses his lips and continues to watch the scene, remorse hitting him with a force he didn't expect.

The last chords of the song echo as everyone applauds, cheering and encouraging you to blow out the candles. You take a breath, blinking rapidly to clear any sign of your emotions.

"Go on, make a wish, birthday girl," Sara tells you excitedly.

You lean into the cake, closing your eyes.

Your mind, treacherously, can't help but return to Aemond's words, again feeling the urge to cry. And yet, you make an effort to push those thoughts to the back of your mind, at least for now.

And finally, you blow out the candles.

Applause fills the space again, and you smile as everyone begins to surround you, offering hugs and warm words. When your gaze inevitably meets his.

He's still there, standing a little apart, watching you with a mixture of guilt and something else you can't quite decipher. He doesn't even try to come closer and you're grateful for that, because it's the smartest thing he can do now.

You look away from him and continue to thank them, doing the best thing you know how to do: pretend.

You laugh lightly at a comment from Sara, accept another hug, and even allow someone to smear a bit of frosting from the cake on your nose.

It all seems so normal, so perfect, but you know it's not.

Aemond is still there, motionless, watching you. And even though you try to ignore him, you can feel his gaze burning into you. He knows he has crossed a boundary tonight. He knows he's hurt you and you're like this because of him.

"Happy birthday, Y/N."

One of your classmates says to you as he hugs you. Then someone else hugs you and says the same thing, then another person and another.

But the voice you most longed to hear saying those words to you is absent and the emptiness it leaves weighs heavier than you'd like to admit.

But one thing is guaranteed and that is that you're fucking done.

After your birthday celebration, you went home earlier than you normally would have stayed to celebrate. But you just couldn't pretend anymore.

Aemond is the one who always takes people who live near him with him in his car. But this time it was Sara who did you the favor after telling her that you appreciated everyone's great gesture for celebrating your day but you weren't feeling well.

You received a couple of texts from him during the ride. Messages you decided not to read or you would end up crying with Sara in her car. So you stood your ground and made a promise to yourself that you wouldn't cry for him once you got to your dorm.

Obviously, you failed.

As soon as you finished taking off your clothes to put on your pajamas and started removing your makeup, inevitably the first tears started to fall. And then, you were a complete mess.

You weren't helped by the fact that his texts kept coming. And you had an idea what they were saying, so the very pain and bitterness deep inside you made you strong enough to not read anything, turn off your phone and go to bed to sleep.

But clearly nothing ended there.

You expected that he would later try to talk to you, no matter what.

So you did what you had never done before when it was about him and what he sometimes did when it was about you; you sent him straight to voicemail and didn't respond to any of his texts for days.

Y/N, please.

I didn't fucking mean it.

I'm sorry.

Can I talk to you?

Call me as soon as you can.

I know you're mad at me but I needed to talk to you, please.

That and more similar texts is what you've been getting these past few days. Days in which you have fortunately managed to avoid him on campus. And not just him, your other friends too or else he'll intercept you with them and you won't have a subtle escape.

And you don't want that.

You don't want to be weak enough in front of him to listen to his justifications and forgive him so easily. What he did to you, what he said to you… is not worthy of forgiveness.

You never realized before how insignificant you are to him and how he truly sees you. You are not even a little bit special than you considered him to you.

But that what happened, it broke your heart but it has also opened your eyes. You know you won't be able to hide forever. You also know that eventually meeting Aemond either alone or with people would be inevitable.

Besides, your friends were already starting to notice it weird that they didn't see you around, so you meet up with them in the usual campus gardens and act completely normal.

When Aemond also joins shortly after.

Everyone greets him as normal when he arrives and he greets them back with his usual nonchalant and serious attitude. However, you don't greet him. You don't even look at him.

You take the opportunity to do one of your homework right there, participating in the conversation from time to time but without being involved, just accompanying them and nothing more.

He takes a seat in front of you, where you instantly feel his piercing, burning gaze. You feel him silently begging you to look at him, to give him a chance to talk, to not ignore him anymore. But that's what you do, you ignore him.

“And how are your vacation plans going?” asks Cregan.

Inevitably, you tense up at the question. And the memories come back.

“Come with me.”

“Where to?”

“To Dragonstone.”

You press your lips together and more purposefully pretend to be completely immersed in your homework, when the truth is you hear the entire conversation.

“Where are you going?” he asks Jason.

“Sunspear, with my whole family.”

“And you?”

“I'm going home, Winterfell,” Sara replies.

“Winterfell?” repeats Cregan confused, “ You didn't say you were going to the beach?”

“Nope. I'll relax in the cabins with hot tubs,” she says with a smug grin, “How about you?”

“I'll go to the beach, definitely. I'm thinking Runestone.”

They go on to talk about their plans, places and so on. When they ask Aemond and you particularly pay more attention to that.

“You haven't changed your plans? You're going to Dragonstone?”

And his quiet, soft, nonchalant voice is not long in coming.

“Yes.”

And you continue to pretend. Pretending that you're not listening, that it's not a big deal, and that you secretly didn't have the same plan to go with him. And you're so immersed in it, you didn't think about the fact that eventually you'd also be asked the same question.

“What about you, Y/N? You said you had plans too.”

Shit.

You try to look like the question hasn't caught you off guard. And you quickly compose yourself. You raise your gaze to them, all but him, and speak with a nonchalant attitude and tone.

“Actually… no,” you place a soft smile, ”I'm going to stay here.”

“Oh really?”

“And why is that?”

Everyone looks at you in surprise and bewilderment. But, specifically, a burning, piercing eye watches you with more intensity than before and with a annoyance you can feel through your skin. Betrayal and pain, even. And honestly, it bothers you, too.

What was he expecting after what happened?

You try not to let it affect you, pretend he's not even here. And you deliberately ignore him.

“Maybe I'll visit my mom for a week or two,” you explain calmly, “But I'll stay most of the time here. And that's okay. It's no big deal.”

The guys give you their opinion and invite you to spend the vacations with them, somehow not wanting to leave you behind. But you turn them down politely, thanking them for their concern and saying that what you want is some time to yourself. And they understand.

And then, Aegon appears.

His entrance is, as always, loud and carefree. He wears a wide grin and a mocking twinkle in his eye as he greets everyone.

“Ah, look at this boring group alone,” he says, plopping his body down next to you on the grass.

Everyone waves at him, even you.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“The vacations.”

“Oh yeah, I can't wait. I need a break from all this,” he says as he lets out an exaggerated sigh and everyone in the group watches him with raised eyebrows.

“You? A break?” Sara asks him.

“Sure,” he shrugs, ”I'm a student too.”

“You've been drinking and going to parties every day,” Jason tells him amused, “What break are you talking about exactly?”

Everyone in the group laughs, even you, except him.

Aegon tries to justify himself, but even he knows he's a mess. When suddenly, his gaze fixes on you, raising an eyebrow and placing a smirk as if something has suddenly crossed his mind.

“Hey, Y/N,” he nudges you lightly with his shoulder, ”it was your birthday, right?”

You bite the inside of your cheek and nod with a small smile, trying to keep your composure.

“Why didn't you invite me?” he asks, feigning indignation.

Cregan scoffs.

“I invited you, you idiot.”

“Oh, right, right,” Aegon replies with a carefree laugh, ”I'm sorry I didn't go. I had another little party. Aemond was there too, wasn't he, little brother?”

Aemond's silence is immediate and deafening. He says nothing, and that makes the atmosphere suddenly heavy, for you.

And something inside you twists. And you look down at your notebook, trying to control your emotions and everything you're thinking. But you can't.

A party. He was at a party, on your birthday.

“And how was that party?” asks Cregan.

“Oh, fun, as always,” Aegon replies with a light tone. “They were our childhood friends, the Baratheons, the Tyrells, the Martells, and the Lannisters.”

Your heart stops for an instant.

Lannister.

That last name weighs on your mind like a rock.

“Yeah, it was really fun,” Aegon continues with a smile, “Even Aemond had a good time.”

The sound of his scandalous laughter fills the air, but is suddenly interrupted by Aemond's cold, cutting voice.

“Shut the fuck up.”

The elder only shrugs with a smirk and raises both hands in surrender.

“Oh, fucking spare me. You know how it is with him,” he says while at the same time starting to get up, ”First he's fine and then suddenly he turns into fucking Maleficent, like at that party.”

He waves a lazy goodbye as the guys wave goodbye to him. And you get caught up in his words.

Even Aemond had a good time.

Now you understand. He forgot your birthday because he was with them, with Cerelle.

A pang of pain runs through your chest at the thought of what that implies, of what probably happened between the two of them.

And whatever it was, it didn't end well, because afterwards he went to the pub and he was so distant, so quiet, so cold and so upset that that's why he said those ugly words to you and treated you the way he treated you.

Otherwise, he would have stayed with her and you wouldn't have seen him on your birthday.

Still, the betrayal in your chest is palpable and growing bigger. He still showed up, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't forgotten you on your fucking birthday.

You press your lips together, trying to hold back the tears. You won't give him the pleasure of seeing you break. Not now, not here. Least of all when you feel his gaze on you, his gaze intent, fixed and more insistently on you now that you know.

With a new bitterness settling in your chest, you refuse to give him what he seeks. You keep your eyes anywhere but on him, resisting the storm of emotions that threatens to overflow inside you.

A few long minutes pass with the guys making any topic of conversation and that stare starts to bother you more and more, so you decide you've had enough and start putting away all your books and notebooks.

“I have to go now. I can't be late for my next class,” you let them know as you get up with all your stuff, ”I'll see you guys later, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Sure.”

“See ya.”

You settle your backpack on your shoulder and with your phone in hand, you start walking away from them towards your corresponding building.

And as you walk away, a notification comes to your phone, followed by another. You stare at the screen and your breath catches for a moment, reading the texts, from him.

Are you fucking serious?

How long are you going to keep this shit up?

You scoff, shaking your head slightly. You don't even open the chat to let him know you've read it. And in fact, with a bitter look on your face and a new hurt feeling, you block him.

The first week of vacation, you went to visit your Mom in Highgarden.

It wasn't a difficult decision because you knew a few days away from Kings Landing would do you good. And being with your Mom and younger brothers you knew it would be just enough to keep you busy and spend time with all of them.

Sara sent you pictures and videos of her time in the mountains of Winterfell, enjoying big cozy cabins and fancy hot tubs.

For a moment you regretted turning down her invitation, but as you laughed and played with your brothers, you were happy to be with them after so many months without seeing them.

You also sent him pictures of your home, the lake in the garden, flowers and the big woods, as well as selfies of you and your brothers. Through the group chat, Cregan and Jason also sent pictures of their vacations, both of them at the beach and tanning.

One thing you noticed, inevitably, was the absence of Aemond.

He usually doesn't send messages or pictures of what he's doing. But you assumed he would when he was in Dragonstone, maybe even a picture or two. But nothing. Complete silence. Just like you.

You blocked him from social media too. He has no way of knowing what you're doing and where, just as you have no way of knowing about him. And it was a kind of relief you hadn't experienced about him before. It was good to breathe and not be on the lookout to recognize red hair near him.

And the more it made you realize how much better off you are without getting involved with him.

In fact, you stayed home for more than two weeks. You couldn't help it after your brothers asked you to stay with them longer. Until you finally let Sara know you were going back to Kings Landing the next day.

It wasn't a hard goodbye, but your Mom and brothers were sad. You promised to come back, like you do every year on the next vacation. And finally you get on that plane.

It's not a long trip, thankfully. And when you land, surprisingly it's raining. The weather is cloudy, cold and perfect for welcoming you in to watch movies curled up in your bed.

So you order an Uber and soon you're on your way to your residence, letting Sara know of your movements at all times, just as she keeps bragging to you about her days in those comfy cabins.

As you arrive, the rain is still pouring down and you run towards the doors with your suitcase in one hand and the other protecting your head, even though you are already partially wet.

You enter the building, shaking off the water, and climb to the second floor. With your keys already in hand, you start thinking about what you're going to have for dinner and what movie will be the first of your marathon.

But then, you notice something.

Or rather, someone.

In front of your door, sitting on the floor with his head slightly tilted down, there is someone. Surprise forces you to slow your steps and your breathing quickens slightly as you recognize him, even before he looks up.

Aemond.

He turns his head towards you and his one visible eye meets yours. His expression is a strange mix between seriousness and something else… something softer, more vulnerable.

His lips are pressed together and the raindrops that surely reached him glisten on the ends of his hair. For a moment, you stand frozen in the hallway, not knowing what to say or do, with the sound of the rain out there filling the silence between the two of you.

You don't know exactly how long it takes, that you swallow hard and finally speak, taking a couple of cautious steps towards him.

“Aemond?”

He doesn't say anything. He makes what appears to be a defeated gesture and rises from the ground, letting you see his profile straight ahead. He has the same look as before, with his hoddie's cap pulled up over his hair and he leans against the hallway wall behind him, looking at you and nothing else.

You shake your head, not understanding.

“What are you doing here?”

You ask him in surprise and confusion. And inevitably, seeing his state, you shouldn't but begin to worry about him. Has something bad happened to him?

“You didn't go to Dragonstone?” you ask him later as you remember, feeling more confused than before.

What is he doing here instead of enjoying his vacation at his family's huge, luxurious beachside mansion?

And he finally speaks in his low, soft tone.

“No.”

You frown, only with his answer creating more questions in your mind.

“And what are you doing here? How did you know I was coming back today?”

“I asked Sara.”

You part your lips, confused.

“Why would she tell you that?”

“You blocked me from everywhere, Y/N,” he tells you in a low, obvious tone, as if he had no choice.

Confusion and anger slowly begins to creep up on you. But you know you can't be upset with Sara, not with her. None of the boys know what you had with Aemond, they didn't even suspect it then and they certainly won't now.

Surely she saw it as a casual question, something insignificant, as if he had asked her about anyone else. So you can't be bothered. However, you begin to feel the awkwardness, as well as the slight sense of betrayal in your chest. And the bitterness.

“You haven't told me what you're doing here.”

“I need to talk to you,” he says, taking a step toward you.

“About what?” you ask him instantly, confused and with a defensive tone, clearly annoyed.

Everything you have done regarding him, blocking him, not speaking to him anymore and walking away, is more than enough to make him understand that you no longer want to have anything to do with him.

And you know he understands that, so why is his need to keep doing this? Asking for you and looking for you?

You are sick of this situation.

And Aemond, noticing this, your look, which you've never given him before, before your birthday, is not something he's used to. Neither is your tone of voice and the distance you keep from him, when before you always wanted to be near him, almost all the time.

He feels more guilty and like an idiot than ever.

He lowers his gaze, trying to find a way not to keep fucking this up, to be able to talk to you, to let him into your life again. Then, just like he used to be with you when it was just the two of you, he drops his strong walls and for the first time, he comes across in the most honest and sincere way to you.

“I miss you.”

Your body immediately tenses as you hear those two words come out of his mouth. His voice, lower and laden with a sincerity you didn't expect, cuts your breath for a moment.

Your first impulse is to want to laugh, not out of amusement, but as a bitter, incredulous reaction.

And without saying anything, you watch him seriously, waiting for him to say something else, something that would make sense of his presence here, in the rain, in front of your door. But he doesn't.

He just watches you, his shoulders slightly down, and that vulnerability that he rarely lets show in him.

And seeing that you don't react, that you're still watching him even in that way, in that way he's not used to, when before it was a tender and loving look, now there's none of that… he hates it.

So he hurries to speak again, to explain himself, to make you understand.

“I know I fucked up. I didn't mean to tell you all that on your birthday. You didn't deserve it and I'm sorry. I was an idiot,” he says, ”But I miss you and that's why I'm here.”

You shake your head slightly, watching him earnestly and attentively, while at the same time folding your arms, in an attempt to protect yourself from the wave of emotions that threatens to attack you.

He looks at you pleadingly and you look at him serious, disinterested, with the distance marked and the bitterness still inside you.

“That's it?”

His face contracts slightly in frustration.

“Y/N—

“If that's all, you can go,” you interrupt him, quickly pushing past him with your suitcase in hand and trying to get into your dorm room as fast as you can to leave him behind.

But you knew you wouldn't make it.

His hand immediately takes you gently but firmly by your arm, stopping you and turning you back to him so he can see your face and speak to you.

“No, that's not all,” he tells you instantly, “I-I… I want things to go back to the way they used to be.”

“And how were things between the two of you before exactly?” you inquire, taking a decisive step toward him, “You want to go back to the whole ‘no strings attached’ thing? To seeing each other in secret and me still just being your convenient fuck and nothing else? That's what you want?”

Your tone is a poison dart, and you see him recoil, as if your every word burns him. His jaw tenses, but he doesn't say anything right away.

“Say it, “you challenge him, taking a step closer, your eyes boring into his, ”Tell me it wasn't just that. Tell me it wasn't just… that I wasn't just—

Your voice cracks, and you hate that it does. Because even though you're upset, even though you want to stay strong, it's too much. He still affects you even more intensely than he did before.

He looks at you, his lips parted, as the rain continues to fall outside.

“That's what I thought,” you whisper at last, releasing yourself from his grip.

You hold the keys more firmly in your hand, avoiding shaking, to insert it into the lock of your door. But he, not wanting it to end like this, stops you.

“You never said anything. You seemed fine with all of it. Now why the sudden change?”

You close your eyes tightly, no longer able to hold back the tears in your eyes. The bitterness, the sadness, the pain, the betrayal, everything stirs inside you. It hurts you and there seems to be no end to it, because again you turn to face him.

And seeing the tears threatening to run down your cheeks, something in his gaze softens, not expecting to see you like this.

“Are you fucking serious?” you say to him almost in a whisper in a shaky, bitter voice, “After what you did, what you said, how do you expect me to be okay to keep being with you?”

He lets out a long breath.

“Y/N… you weren't just that. You never were. And I… I was upset that day. And I shouldn't have taken it out on you, I know that. But I promise you weren't just that to me.”

You shake your head, not believing his words for a second. Not anymore.

“The thing here is, your words don't mean anything to me anymore.”

He takes a step toward you.

“I didn't mean to… I didn't think that—

“That's the problem, Aemond, you never think of anyone but yourself,” you interrupt him in a harsh, annoyed voice, ”Everything is always about what you want, what's convenient for you.”

He shakes his head.

“That's not true—

“Of course it is,” you take a shaky breath and your words coming out softer, but no less sharp, “ And even now, after all, you don't understand how much you meant to me. Because I didn't matter to you, ever.”

No matter how many times he tells you that it was not so, you will not believe him, because he did not necessarily prove to you before something that can prove his words. There are no facts, there is nothing.

And that same bitterness, makes you finally be brave, speak up, get it off your chest. So you don't let him talk so you can get it over with once and for all.

“You know what happened?” you ask, ”I got feelings. That's what happened.”

And there it is. You've said it.

Those words you never said long ago so as not to scare him away from you, how you knew it would happen, without putting you and what you felt first. But still, without having said it before, you ended up with a broken heart.

The weight of your words falls between the two of you like an invisible wall, so palpable you can almost touch it. Aemond seems to freeze, his eyes anchored on yours.

“That's why things can't go back to the way they were, because, of course, that's not what you want. What you want is an idiot who is at your beck and call whenever and however you want her to be.”

Your words hit him unexpectedly.

And the change in his expression is immediate. All the vulnerability he had shown disappears from his face.

And once again you are in front of the Aemond everyone knows; the cold, distant, serious and inexpressive Aemond. His gaze, once pleading and remorseful, becomes hard and distant.

His jaw visibly tenses and you notice how his shoulders square, adopting that defensive posture you know so well.

“Don't say that,” his voice comes out low, strained. “It wasn't like that.”

“It wasn't?” you inquire, pursing your lips, ”You said I was just a convenient fuck. I'm sure you can find someone else, then.”

Every word comes like poison from your lips, and though it pains you to say them, you know they're true. You see it in the way his face contorts slightly, as if your words have hit him where it hurts the most.

But he maintains that typical attitude of his, that mask of indifference he has perfected over the years.

You wait for him to contradict you, to deny it, to try to justify it. But nothing. He says nothing. He just stands there, staring at you seriously, jaw clenched and looking like he's having an internal fight, struggling against his thoughts, not knowing what to do or what to say.

And you again press your lips together, having enough of this.

”Get out.”

And he finally reacts, lowering his gaze and letting out a deep sigh, pursing his lips and looking at you again with a serious look.

“I can't give you what you want, Y/N.”

“But you do want me to give you what you want,” you say firmly and curtly, “Because Cerelle didn't, right?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can think about what you're going to say. But there it is, you've said it too.

His lips part, his whole body tenses, watching you in surprise and mild confusion, definitely not expecting that from you. And there, you leave him speechless, trying to understand how it is that you know about her.

And although for a second you look unsure about what you've said and regretful, you also decide that you're not going to keep quiet about it any longer. And you continue, with bitterness in your eyes and in your tone of voice.

“You forgot my birthday, because of her,” you say, each word like a dagger, ”You were late because you were with her.”

“How do you know about her?” he asks you instantly, his voice like ice.

You swallow hard softly, holding his gaze despite the pain it causes you.

Of course he would ask you that.

“I noticed something between you, when she went to the same parties as us,” you reply, “The way you looked at her, how your mood changed when she appeared and when you both disappeared,” you say with those moments replaying in your mind, still so present, “And then Aegon, drunk as usual, told me a few things.”

“What did he tell you?” he again asks you instantly, serious and thoughtful.

The rigidity in his body, the tension, is more evident now, as is the vulnerability and sadness in you as you talk about her. And you avert your gaze, with every word coming out of your mouth aching, but needing to say it all.

“That the two of you had a thing. That you're in love with her, but she's not in love with you.”

The muscle in his jaw tenses so tight you fear he'll break his teeth, his breathing grows heavier, and for a moment, you see a flash of raw pain in his eyes before the mask of coldness falls back into place.

“The worst part is that I've known that for a while now,” you continue, your voice cracking slightly despite your best efforts, ”I kept hoping I meant more to you than just your way of filling that void.”

For a moment, your mask of coldness cracks. But only for a moment. And you see a glimmer, of something deeper in her gaze. Guilt? Remorse?

But just as it appears, it vanishes. You notice how his hands open and close at his sides, a nervous gesture he rarely displays. His gaze again seems to search for something on the floor, before meeting your gaze again.

And when he finally speaks, his voice comes out lower, more controlled, as if each word is carefully measured.

“That was never my intention.”

It's almost as if the words hurt as they come out, as if a part of him wants to say more but doesn't know how. And you scoff, incredulous.

“Sure, you didn't mean to treat me as your second option and break my heart with every cold, disinterested attitude every time she came back to break yours?”

The silence that follows is heavy, laden with all the unsaid things between you.

“I can't give you what you want,” he repeats resignedly, watching you seriously.

“Then leave.”

“Y/N—

“No,” you interrupt him instantly, stepping back instinctively, ”I'm done here. I'm done with you. So leave. Don't come looking for me, ever again, do you understand? I don't want anything to do with you anymore.”

You are clear in your words. You're not playing games. You're not hesitating for a second. And you're being terribly honest.

Something snaps inside you, but there's also something starting to break free. There's no turning back now and you both know it, because this time, finally, you chose to put yourself first.

So you walk into your dorm room, while he stands in the middle of the hallway, not saying or doing anything else. And then you close the door.

AEMOND POV

There is something off… in the way you are no longer around.

It shows in the small details, the way you slowly disappeared from his life. In the way a message with your name no longer appears on his phone, nor a call.

In the way he was unconsciously so used to visiting you in your dorm or your going to his apartment. The way you used to fall asleep next to him in his big bed. The way you would make breakfast for the two of you before you went to class.

The way you both exchanged subtle glances when you were in a group with the guys or at parties. The way in secret encounters, stolen kisses in the shadows and passionate moments in his bedroom.

But there was also the way you always waited for him.

That's a thought that hits him with the force of a delayed revelation, something his own selfishness kept him from seeing before.

When he would ignore your texts or calls, when he wouldn't meet you, when he would cancel plans at the last minute, when he would disappear for days and barely be around, for her… for Cerelle.

Even on his bad days, after every fight with her, he would come back and there you were, without protest or asking for explanations. And then it was back to the usual routine; all secret. And casual.

He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. He looks at the clock on his nightstand; midnight. He can't sleep. His mind keeps him awake, because all he can think about, is you.

Since the day of your birthday, specifically, you've tormented his mind. Ever since he knew he fucked up, ever since you stopped answering his texts, calls, to ignoring him even when he was in front of you and leaving him behind, you haven't stopped rolling around in his mind.

He was supposed to be right now in Dragonstone, enjoying his vacation, like everyone else before the new semester crushes him with new difficulties, responsibilities and pressures.

But he decided not to go, because he couldn't. Because you were supposed to go with him.

He doesn't even want to admit how much that idea excited him. The two of you had made the plan, you were supposed to go with him. But when you canceled, without even telling him directly, it disappointed him in a way he didn't expect.

But he doesn't blame you. He can't. Not after what he did.

He's too proud though, too stubborn to accept it ending like this. He refuses to let you go, even when you've made it perfectly clear that you want nothing more to do with him. He can't help but seek you out, pursue you, unaware of the damage he continues to cause.

That's why he went looking for you. But he had already lost you, for a while now.

And he misses you. By the Gods, how he misses you.

He took you for granted, thinking you would always be there for him, even with his bad moods and his habit of taking it out on others, like he did on your birthday.

A growl of frustration escapes his throat as he brings a hand to his forehead, closing his eyes tightly.

The memory of that day haunts him like a curse. Not only did he ruin everything between you two, but he did it on your birthday. Your damn birthday that he forgot.

Guilt and regret flood him inside as he lies in his bed. And every memory, every mental image is a reminder of what he has lost because of his own stupidity.

How could he have been so blind? So selfish?

The silence of the night is deafening, interrupted only by the soft ticking of the clock and his own breathing. His eyes burn with exhaustion, but sleep refuses to take him.

Not when your voice echoes in his mind, repeating those words, “I kept waiting to mean more to you than just your way of filling that void.”

Suddenly, the silence is broken by the ringing of his phone. His heart violently flips in his chest, and for a moment, he thinks it might be you. His hands move with almost desperate speed to reach for his phone.

But hope dies quickly when he sees the name on the screen; Cerelle.

He stands completely still, watching the screen light up again and again with her call. And for the first time, something changes inside him. Instead of the usual anxious fluttering in his stomach when he sees her name, instead of that compulsive need to answer immediately, he feels… nothing.

Or maybe not nothing. He feels tiredness. A deep, overwhelming tiredness.

He knows exactly why she's calling. He can picture it perfectly, another fight with Aegon, tears in her voice, needing someone to listen to her, to comfort her. Needing him, not because she really wants him, but because it's convenient.

Because she knows he is always there, waiting like an idiot, ready to pick up the pieces his brother leaves behind.

“It wasn't your intention to treat me like your second choice? To break my heart with every cold, disinterested attitude every time she came back to break yours?”

The irony is not lost on him, he did to you exactly what Cerelle does to him. He used you to fill a void, to not feel so alone, so unloved.

The phone stops ringing, only to start again almost immediately. This time, however, he feels no hesitation. With a decisive move, he turns it off completely, cutting off the call and any chance of further messages.

He drops back onto the bed, his mind inevitably drifting back to you. It's as if he can't help himself, as if all his thoughts have a direct path to your memory.

He sees your face with a clarity that hurts him, the way your eyes sparkled when you laughed, how your nose crinkled slightly when something bothered you, the softness of your cheeks when you blushed, the way your hair fell over your face when you concentrated on something.

Your lips… the way they curved into a smile, how they felt against his, the taste of your kisses. Every detail of you is burned into his memory.

The silence of the night seems to taunt him, reminding him of all the times he could have done things differently, all the opportunities he had to value you as you deserved and wasted thinking of someone else.

He lost you because of his own stupidity, because of his inability to see what was in front of him until it was no longer there. For chasing an illusion with Cerelle while he had something real with you.

And now, it's too late.

thank you for reading!

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #modern hotd #au modern #modern aemond #aemond one eye #aemond one shot #aemond targaryen angst #aemond x fem!reader

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piastri-fvx · 2 days ago

Text

Love hate. Lando Norris.

Pairing: Lando Norris x f1driver!ferraridriver!reader, smau, one-sided enemies to lovers (inspired by Na Na Na by One Direction)

Summary: When she doesn't like him and he's in love with her.

Word Count:

Face claim: Sabrina Carpenter and girls from pinterestttt!!

Disclaimer/s: None!! Just fluff and bickering/teasing

A/N: i basically had no time to write anything because i had a lotttt to do!! anyways, i hope u enjoy!! lmk if u have requests or want to be on my permanent tag list <333 also i wrote this before lando changed his instagram @ so i had to go back and change emmmm!!

♡ Masterlist ♡

------------------------------------------------------

@yourusername

liked by lando, alexandrasaintmleux, ferrari, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell and 2.484.916 others

yourusername starting the 2025 season like thisssss

| view all comments...

user1 every model should thank y/n for choosing this career path, they wouldn't stand a chance against her 🙏

user2 THE QUEEN IS BACK YALL

-> user3 manifesting another y/n season

charles_leclerc favorite teammate 😁 liked by author

-> yourusername tyyyy!! you're my favorite too

-> user4 oh to be friends with y/n or charles

oscarpiastri good luck on the first race! liked by author

ferrari our girl ❤️🫶 liked by author

-> yourusername forza ferrari sempre!!

-> user5 y/n was meant to be a ferrari driver, no one can convince me otherwise

-> user6 real, if you don't agree, argue with the wall

alexandrasaintmleux 🥰🥰🥰 liked by author

-> yourusername 🫶🫶🫶

-> user7 y/n basically being charles's sister atp 🛐

-> user8 and alex's sister lmao

-> user9 y/n leclerc from now on 🙏

user10 SHE IS GLOWINGGGG

user11 pookie is backkkk!!

-> user12 y/n we need all of the tea

-> user13 real, how was break, y/n?

lando 😍

-> yourusername no.

-> user14 humbled him real fast 😭

-> user15 is he just silent or was he silenced 🛐

-> user16 lando got gagged lol

@lando

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, mclaren, maxfewtrell, joaofelix79 and 3.483.294 others

lando new year, new @ 😁

| view all comments...

oscarpiastri 👍 liked by author

-> user1 typical Oscar behaviour

-> user2 fr the response is soooo oscar

user3 should've been landgoat yk 😝

user4 just a chill guy

-> user5 just a chill guy named lando

-> user6 who drives cars in weird shaped circles for a living

-> user7 and has no rizz (iykyk)

mclarenauto short and sweet. We love it 🧡 liked by author

-> user8 okay sabrina carpenter.

user9 still our goat 🤪🎀

user10 i'm sorry, the old lando can't come to the phone right now ✨

-> taylorswift 😙

user11 y/n being in his likes tho...

-> user12 real, because what about lando's lack of rizz?

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, lilymhe, flavy.barla, jade_distinguinn and 5.385.495 others

yourusername sooooo happy with p1!! congrats to osc on p2, well deserved

| view all comments...

lando what about my p3???

-> yourusername go oscar!!!

-> oscarpiastri go mclaren

-> lando go lando!! 😁

-> yourusername ...

oscarpiastri thanks mate liked by author

-> yourusername you're welcomeeee, osc

-> user1 😁😁😁

user2 cutieeeeee 🫶🫶🫶

user3 i think i'm lesbian now 😍

-> user4 *bi, lando norris exists

-> user5 omg right

user6 oh how i love y/n photo dumps

-> user7 her aesthetic is literally what i wanh mine to be like

lilymhe angel 🫶💗 liked by author

-> yourusername getting ready to get down on one knee right now ☺️

-> user8 lando, alex????

-> user9 y/n is stealing albono's girl 😭

user10 beautifullll 🤍

user11 queen of pinteresty photos liked by author

user12 girly we miss you on tiktok

-> user13 real, i miss y/n's influencer era

-> user14 yeah!! come back, y/n

user15 i wanna eat these pics liked by author

lando i agree with @user15

-> yourusername respectfully, get out of my comments

-> lando awwwwww 😫

-> user16 lando got rejected

-> user17 AGAIN

@lando

liked by olliebearman, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, flavy.barla and 3.399.492 others

lando she lost a bet

| view all comments...

yourusername i don't support this

-> lando why didn't you at least like the post, baby 😩

-> user1 BABY??????

-> user2 SCREENSHOT SCREENSHOT

-> user3 I'M FRAMING THIS ON MY WALL WTF

user4 CAN WE TALK ABOUT LANDO CALLING HER BABY?????

-> user5 REAL BECAUSE IS THAT A HARD LAUNCH

user6 can we talk about how STUNNING she looks?

-> user7 real!! like damnnnn

user8 why is she so prettyyyyy 😭

oscarpiastri lol

-> yourusername 🙄

-> user9 oscar is having so much fun with this lmao

user10 lando entering his aesthetic arc???

user11 y/n pookie is such a good influence on lando

-> user12 especially on his insta feed

-> user13 "thank you y/n" we all chant in unison 🛐🛐🛐

user14 y/n looking like a goddess as always 😫

-> lando yeah she does that 😣

-> user15 LANDO WDYM

user16 guys i think lando's trying to tell us something

user17 lando trying to hard launch and y/n refusing 😫

-> user18 it's giving mixed signals

@yourusername

liked by lando, oscarpiastri, mclaren, scuderiaferrari, alexandrasaintmleux and 10.382.283 others

yourusername hard launch or whatever

tagged: @lando

| view all comments...

user1 favorite enemies to lovers 🛐🛐🛐

oscarpiastri finally liked by author

-> user2 OSCAR 😭

user3 so invested in this

-> user4 same

-> user5 finally something interesting lmao

user6 i smell something

-> user7 a love story 🥰

user8 lethal face cards belong together

-> user9 real

-> user10 the proof is literally RIGHT HERE

user11 this post just validated everything we've been praying for. thank you for your service liked by author

-> yourusername you're welcome, darling 💗

-> user12 i would faint if she called me darling

-> user13 @user11 got so lucky wtf

user14 i guess being a ferrari fan, this is the only win we can get

-> user15 #depressedemo

-> user16 there is not one ferrari fan that is mentally stable

-> user17 can't even protest tbh

-> charles_leclerc me neither

user18 lando, please give me y/n

-> lando never.

-> user19 mama a lando behind you

user20 we may call ourselves lando fans, but we are really just y/n fans liked by author

@lando

liked by yourusername, mclaren, oscarpiastri, alexandrasaintmleux, f1 and 6.484.185 others

lando MY WOMAN 😍😍😍

| view all comments...

user1 do you guys perhaps need a dog?

-> user2 i can bark

-> user3 woof woof woof

user4 meow meow meow

user5 sometimes babygirl is lando norris

-> user6 sometimes babygirl is a 24 year old man

-> user7 who drives cars for a living

-> user8 and has a stunning gf

user9 i'm only here for the y/n pictures

-> user10 same it's what we deserve

user11 lando i only follow you for the y/n pictures, more content please

-> lando as you wish

-> user12 YAYYYYYYY

user13 my day just got brighter after seeing this GORGEOUS WOMAN

user14 lando can you fight?

-> user15 i guess lando has to fight now

-> user16 he can't take all of us at once

user17 they look so cute 💗

-> user18 y/n is stunning and so is lando 😭

-> user19 no but they are

------------------------------------------------------

A/N: i'm soooo tired but wanted to get this out of my drafts lollll!! feel free to request and please comment (if u want), i would love to get some feedback, lmao! love u all and hope u enjoyed this

tags!

@freyathehuntress

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starsjulia · 1 day ago

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everything we’ve ever wanted // leah williamson

a/n : i am very much ovulating and my body is physically aching for my baby in which i do not have, so here’s a fanfiction. also have you guys seen the tiktok’s where it’s like “future therapists are probably writing fanfiction” and like oh em ghee that may be me, i am supposed to writing an essay on piaget and his cognitive stages or some bs, but instead i’m a little bit stoned and writing fanfiction.

warnings : pregnancy

You sat on the bathroom floor, your knees pulled to your chest, staring at the little stick in your trembling hands. Leah knelt beside you, her fingers laced tightly with yours, both of you holding your breath.

This moment had played out too many times before. Too many heartbreaks. Too many negatives. Too many times you’d tried to convince yourself it was okay to hope.

The timer on your phone buzzed.

Your heart slammed against your ribs as you forced yourself to look.

Two pink lines.

Your lips parted, but no sound came out. Leah sucked in a sharp breath beside you, her grip on your hand tightening. “No fucking way,” she whispered.

Your other hand flew to your mouth, your fingers trembling. “Leah…” Your voice broke, overwhelmed, disbelieving. “It worked?”

Leah’s blue eyes darted between your face and the test, as if waiting for one of them to change, to confirm this was real. Then, suddenly, she let out a sharp laugh, breathless and stunned. “Oh my God.”

A sob bubbled up in your throat. Before you could say anything, Leah surged forward, wrapping her arms around you. You collapsed into her, both of you shaking as tears spilled freely. “We’re having a baby,” Leah choked out against your shoulder. “You’re pregnant.”

A fresh wave of emotion crashed over you, and you buried your face into her neck. “We’re really having a baby,” you whispered.

Leah pulled back, cradling your face in her hands, her thumbs wiping away your tears. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispered, voice thick with emotion. “We did it, baby. We did it.”

You both sat there, overwhelmed, laughing and crying in equal measure. Then, Leah suddenly gasped and reached for her phone.

“What are you doing?” you asked, still catching your breath.

“Telling Mum,” she said without hesitation, already hitting the call button.

Your heart swelled. Of course. Amanda had been with you both every step of the way—through every round of IVF, every late-night phone call when it all felt too much, every heartbreaking negative test.

The phone rang twice before Amanda’s face appeared on the screen. “Hey, loves—oh my God, why are you crying?”

Leah could barely get the words out, her voice cracking. “Mum… it worked.” She held up the test with a trembling hand. “We’re pregnant.”

Amanda gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. Tears instantly welled in her eyes. “No,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Oh, my girls.”

You sniffled, smiling through your tears. “It’s real this time, Amanda.”

Amanda let out a shaky laugh, wiping at her face. “I am so, so happy for you both.” Her voice was full of so much love, so much warmth. “You’re going to be amazing mums.”

Leah let out a breathless laugh, shaking her head. “Mum, I don’t even care if it’s early. We’re telling everyone.”

Amanda chuckled through her tears. “I don’t blame you one bit, love.”

The moment the call ended, Leah turned to you with wide, excited eyes. “Beth and Viv next.”

You laughed, your heart nearly bursting with joy. “Go on, then.”

She quickly hit the video call button, bouncing on her knees as she waited for them to pick up. Beth answered first, Viv leaning over her shoulder, both of them immediately narrowing their eyes.

“Why are you two crying?” Beth asked.

Leah grinned, holding up the test again. “WE’RE HAVING A BABY!”

Beth screamed. Viv’s jaw dropped.

“No way,” Viv breathed.

Beth launched into a full meltdown. “I—OH MY GOD—ARE YOU SERIOUS?!”

Leah laughed through fresh tears. “Dead serious.”

Viv covered her mouth, her eyes glassy. “I’m gonna cry.”

Beth was already crying, wiping at her face aggressively. “You guys deserve this so much,” she choked out. “Oh my God, I can’t believe it.”

Leah beamed. “I don’t care if it’s too soon, you’re officially Auntie Beth and Auntie Viv.”

Beth let out another shriek. “BEST NEWS EVER.”

Viv nodded, still stunned. “I don’t even know what to say. Just—wow. I’m so happy for you both.”

You leaned into Leah, squeezing her hand, warmth spreading through your chest.

After years of waiting, of heartbreak, of trying again and again, the moment was finally here.

And it was everything you ever wanted.

#woso #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson imagines #leah williamson x you #leah williamson one shot #leah williamson fluff #fluff

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yannisdesk · 1 day ago

Text

I can't speak for everyone, but when I say stuff like "we're cooked" I'm not saying it out of actual defeatism. I'm not going to lay down and let these next 4 years just happen because I had a moment where I actually saw the end of this country flash before my eyes, like Trump and his minions are trying so hard to speed-run and my words reflected that thought. You can't just sit back and talk on and on about the hope people are supposed to have without addressing the fact that people have a reason to feel a sense of doom in the first place. Hope does not exist in a vacuum, and it's in those darkest where hope is most necessary. The darkness is important. It's real. It's also important to not get lost in the darkness.

"guys we're so cooked" "it's wraps" "the end is near" shut up shut up shut up shut up shut up. i say that with love because you are probably saying it out of distress and hopelessness, but for your own well-being and for everyone else's, please stop saying this shit.

no we are not "cooked." and by saying that, by the way, you are giving more power to the neo-nazi oligarchy in charge.

they want you to abandon all hope of a better life. they want you to believe "oh well, it's over, we might as well stop trying to fight back and just resign ourselves to despair forever."

every time you get on tiktok and comment "guys we're so cooked haha it's over," you are feeding into the mindset of hopeless compliance. you are, unknowingly, spreading this infectious idea that just because we've lost one battle, we've lost the entire war.

your words matter. i am saying this out of love and concern for our future, but please stop choosing words of defeat.

#late night rambles

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odoraful · 21 hours ago

Text

𝑺𝑵𝑶𝑾𝑭𝑰𝑬𝑳𝑫 𝑷𝑨𝑹𝑲 ᯓ 𝒁𝑨𝒀𝑵𝑬

the physician does not open his grand estate to visitors, however, he makes an exception for a special someone he’s known since childhood

⟡ content: reader is addressed as 'miss'; regency era inspired (certainly not historically accurate); reader and zayne are awkward yearners for each other; 3.5k wc

⟡ a/n: the mr darcy to zayne pipeline is very real to me !! did i watch pride and prejudice for the 234th time because of this? yes i did hehe i hope you enjoy mwah!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Whilst many other gentleman in the country wished to show off their homes to display their refinement to the public, the solitary owner of Snowfield Park could not think of anything more undesirable. It was truly a shame, though. The estate had received its name from how picturesque it looked during the winters. Fresh snow fell in perfectly smooth blankets around the property, and dusted the foliage of trees as if intentionally painted on by an artist. When morning light emerged, and the snow began to melt away, the grand home would sparkle like sequins on a debutante’s dress.

Those who travelled past Snowfield Park could only admire it from a distance when heading to the next town over—rolling along on their carriages or leisurely walking by. What a waste it was, they all thought, to not allow visitation from guests and host lavish balls as often as one could. They all wondered whether the owner was even in his right mind.

He is a physician, that is the reason. He hardly has time to indulge in what he believes are frivolities.

A physician? How noble! He must be someone of great intelligence.

Indeed. I believe his name is Dr Zayne.

Quite the severe fellow I must admit. I remember during the last ball, the gentleman did nothing but loiter and offered a dance to no one.

Merely loitering? Goodness, has there truly been no one that has caught the man’s eye?

I wonder who is fortunate enough to be acquainted with him and be allowed visitation to such a place.

That was how many of the conversations that passed Snowfield Park went. Little did people know, other than the owner’s most immediate family, there was one other special person who the owner invited over.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Miss, you’re telling me you’re acquainted with the gentleman residing in Snowfield Park?” the driver of your carriage asked, speaking each word in disbelief.

You nodded. “Yes, I am.”

Your body also bobbed along with each trod of the horse. The carriage was open air, only able to seat two people, yourself and the driver. Much to your chagrin, your plain reply left the driver guffawing.

“You sure you’re not one of the many admirers trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive man?”

Glancing at the driver’s side profile, you could see him wiggle his brows. The driver was a young man, barely out of his teenage years, who had a penchant for dramatics.

“Certainly not!” you exclaimed, more defensive than your intended.

If the driver had not been so focused on the path ahead, he would have seen your cheeks turn pink.

“We have been good friends since childhood,” you asserted, “and just happened to drift apart when he went to university to study, that is all.”

The driver gave a sound of understanding, though, he still seemed unconvinced by your explanation.

It was completely true though. Your families lived in neighboring estates, and they endeavored to meet often when they found out they had children of similar ages. Many of your memories in youth had Zayne in them. Reading together in your grandmother’s study (Zayne reading aloud the narration, and you tasked with the dialogue for the characters), foraging for flowers and cataloguing them in your shared notebook, practicing your piano forte whilst Zayne completed anatomy sketches (with you often as the subject).

When he went to study medicine, you both sent letters to each other in those initial months. However, with your desire to seek your own passions (and your grandmother’s concerns over your entrance into society), and Zayne’s own pursuit of his career, the length of time between letters grew longer and longer.

Head swimming with memories, you stared off into the countryside. Tall trees that lined the dirt path segmented the bright afternoon sunlight as the carriage rolled past a long stretch of river. Far, far ahead, you saw a glimpse of Snowfield Park. No other details could be made out aside from that it was an impressive estate. You wondered if you could predict Zayne’s taste in design. Surely there would be a well maintained garden and a wide staircase leading to the front doors.

The driver could not ride fully into Snowfield Park as he had business in the next town he needed to attend to. You happily agreed to being dropped off a little ways before, just as the trees began to clear. The weather was pleasant, and it would take no longer than half an hour to walk. The driver pulled on the reins, causing the horses to slow to a stop. He hopped off first, moving to your side to assist you in getting down.

“Thank you,” you said as you smoothed out the skirt of your dress with your hands.

He gave an exaggerated bow. “You’re most welcome, miss. I hope Mr Zayne treats you well,” he winked, then hoisted himself back up onto the carriage.

Waving him goodbye, the carriage went on ahead to the next town over.

You were still quite a ways from the estate itself, left with a distance of grassy field to cross before it transformed into neatly sanded paths and a garden. Though, it was too small from where you were to make out any details. Thankfully, you enjoyed to walk.

As you set off, you checked the small purse dangling from your wrist. It contained your personal belongings, including the very thing that summoned you to Snowfield Park to begin with. A letter from Zayne lay neated folded inside.

Taking a deep breath, you began your journey on foot.

The closer you walked, and the more the house expanded in your view, the greater your heart twisted in your chest.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Zayne’s home was even grander in real life than what you had imagined.

There was certainly a garden. One that stretched out well beyond the home’s facade, with neatly trimmed hedges, pristine white flowers and a three-tiered marble fountain. You walked through, gently reaching out to touch the petals of flowers. And there was certainly a staircase. Two to be exact, lined with railings carved from stone supported by miniature pillars. Both were built from the ground floor up to the first level, creating separate entryways from two different levels.

The estate was meticulously maintained and so peaceful. Only the wind and the trickle of water from the fountain could be heard. This type of serenity seemed fitting for Zayne.

You chose to walk up the stairs, heading toward the main entrance with ornate double doors. Your breath grew uneven with each step. It was inexplicable how rattled your nerves were at that very moment. What could possibly rouse your anxiety? You did not harbor any ill feelings towards Zayne. Quite the contrary, in fact. Back then, and even now, despite the length of time without contact, you were fond of him.

Rationalizing all this in your mind, you tried to bury your nervousness just as you reached the front doors. Grasping the knocker, you gave three firm knocks, hoping it sufficient enough to signal any occupants of Snowfield Park.

You readied yourself if Zayne himself would open the door for you. It was unlikely, but not entirely impossible. Typically, there would be servants that would initially greet guests. But, perhaps, the owner of the estate would alter convention for an old friend.

The door swung open and you subconsciously held your breath.

The person by the door seemed a bit older than you. She wore a simple dress with an apron tied around it, hair held back by a white bonnet. You exhaled. Conventions remain ever unchanging, you thought, putting on a shy smile.

“Uhm, good afternoon, my name is Y/N. I’m here to visit Mr Zayne.”

The lady looked you over up and down with her discerning eyes. Her brief inspection completed, her skeptical gaze gave way to a warm and inviting grin.

“Please come in! Mr Zayne has been expecting your arrival.”

You relaxed with relief, stepping in and getting a first look at Snowfield Park that many so desired to.

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Compared to your own abode with your family, the interior of this seemed to be fit for royalty.

The room had gold framed portraits of various people and landscapes hung on its cream colored walls. Ornate gold decorations filled the bare spaces in between each painting, reminiscent of leaves which curved and stretched towards the ceiling. The sunlight pouring through the large windows made each metallic embellishment shine. Tables held bronze candelabras with unlit candles and vases with arrangements of different florals. Lounges and chairs with navy upholstery lined the edges of the room, ideal places to sit and idle. Beyond you and to your sides were open archways, where you saw a peek of the winding staircases that led deeper into the home.

You tried your best to not just stand there slack-jawed at the entrance and follow the servant further inside. Was this really the estate that Zayne owned? The same Zayne who picked carrots off his plate at dinnertime and spent his allowance at the candy store in town?

The servant let you catch up to her in center of the room. She leaned in close to whisper, even though you were the only people in this vast space.

“Miss, just between you and me, Mr Zayne has been quite restless these past few days.”

“Restless?” you frowned. “Whatever for?”

She nodded towards you. Her implication that you were the object of Zayne’s anxieties made you even more confused.

“You must be a very special person to rattle him like that. He’s been pacing around, inspecting and re-inspecting all the furnishings in every room, buying fresh linens for your guest quarters.”

She then chuckled. “Quite frankly, it’s refreshing to see such a side of him since he’s so often busy with his work.”

“Speaking of, that is what he is currently occupied with now. I’ll let him know that you’re here.”

The servant curtsied to you before rushing through one of the archways. The sound of her footsteps on tiled floors retreated.

There was nothing to do but wait, and so you did.

You took a turn around the room, admiring the paintings of unfamiliar people and unfamiliar landscapes. Did Zayne know who these individuals were? Had he travelled to different parts of this country? You were now uncertain if the man you would shortly reunite with would even be recognizable to you.

One minute of waiting turned into three, then ten, then fifteen. You could probably recite the arrangement of paintings in the room with how much studying you were doing to fill the time. Looking off ahead of you, the entryways were a silent invitation to explore. Surely the servant wouldn’t mind that you had wandered off a little bit. She certainly hadn’t said anything against doing so.

Your feet moved of their own accord into the entry way ahead of you, eager to see more of the interior of Snowfield Park.

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“Mr Zayne,” Yvonne called as she knocked on the door of the study.

Zayne was penning a letter containing care instructions to the family of one of his patients.

He continued to write as he called out, “You may come in.”

Entering the room, the excitement on Yvonne’s face at being able to announce your arrival was replaced with horror as she saw Zayne.

“Mr Zayne! Have you not changed into your finer clothes yet?”

Zayne glanced up from his writing with a furrow in his brow. He was wearing his night clothes, a simple loose fitting white shirt, pants, and a robe. His dark hair lightly tousled from a restless night of sleep.

“I have not. Y/N isn’t due to Snowfield Park until the afternoon.”

Yvonne gaped at him, her voice high with alarm. “It is the afternoon now, Mr Zayne. And she has arrived not just a moment ago.”

The quill almost fell from Zayne’s grasp at his own shock. It was terribly unlike him to forget the time. His plans of burying himself in his work to keep his mind busy from your arrival had backfired on him.

He immediately stood up. Folding the letter and placing it aside, he strode towards Yvonne.

“She’s here? The time must have escaped me.” He ran a hand through his hair, attempting to steady his composure.

The day that he had perfectly planned had already sidetracked. You were here in his house and he was hiding away in his study in his undergarments. Outfit aside, was there even enough time to ready himself mentally as well? This was the first in a long time that he would be seeing you face-to-face, he hadn’t even thought of what he should say to you.

“Well don’t just stand there all flustered!” Yvonne huffed, piercing through Zayne’s thoughts. “You need to get changed right this instant!”

She scrambled behind Zayne and pushed him out of the study.

“It’s improper to leave such a lovely young lady waiting for so long! Come on now, Mr Zayne!”

He followed Yvonne through the familiar halls of Snowfield Park to his rooms. She spoke her thoughts aloud, deciding on what shirt, waistcoat and cravat would look the most appealing. He agreed with her that navy and white would make a suitable combination, though, Zayne had greater worries aside from the coordination of his clothes.

Five years it had been.

Five years since he went away to study at university and begun working as a physician.

Five long years of being away from you.

Gradually, you two had begun to drift apart like the slow moving of continents over centuries. Starting with a delayed letter, leading to a delayed response. The lengthy time between correspondence began to feel too awkward, leaving words unsaid. Once you had shared all the same experiences together, and now, you had become a fond daydream for Zayne. An occupant of his thoughts whenever the nights got too long for him. How were you? What were you doing now? Were you taking care of your health? Thinking of you seemed to soothe him.

That was why when there was a listing for an estate in the same village you both grew up in, he hardly hesitated in his decision to purchase it. Internally, he also saw it as a sign. If this were to be the place were he settled down, he knew he needed to invite you to visit.

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Snowfield Park could have easily been mistaken for a museum if one were to end up in the room you were in now. Not only were there more paintings hung on the walls, much like the entry hall, but there were sculptures, antiques and other unique trinkets on display as well. All were neatly spread out, with brass plaques beneath to provide a description of the piece. Too fascinated by the space, you forgot how much waiting time passed since the servant left.

One piece in particular caught your eye.

A sculpted bust of a man sat atop a pedestal, raising it up to your eye level. With a straight bridged nose and stern brows, the face would leave many people with a rather cold impression. Shivers winding up their spine by the frigidity of the sculpted likeness. Not you, however. Warmth bloomed within your chest. Lips parted in amazement. Many of the features remained the same, though refined with age. It was a familiar and cherished image of a close companion.

Zayne. Your Zayne.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out. Closer and closer. Just until the pads of your finger barely ghosted against the cheek of Zayne’s face.

Hearing a step behind you, you instantly retracted your hand. Snapped out of your stupor.

“Y/N.”

You never thought your name could be spoken so gently until that moment. The origin was a low and smooth voice, like a spoonful of honey one would dissolve in a cup of tea.

Turning around with wide eyes, a name fell from your lips.

“Zayne,” you breathed.

In the quietness of the room, even your faint utterance of his name echoed in the space.

Zayne could have took you for one of the art pieces in this space with how well you looked. An ivy green dress with a grey shawl draped over your arms. You had traded elegance for practicality, leaving your gowns for balls at home so you could walk more freely. Still, the breath hitched in his throat as he looked you over.

His posture straightened before he bowed. “I’m sorry for frightening you.”

When he lifted his head, you noted how he blinked away from your gaze towards the ground. A habit he had as a young boy that he kept even now. Seeing it comforted you, though you could not understand why.

“I did not mean to disturb. I should have made my appearance known to you sooner.”

An apology. Those were his first words upon your meeting. You knew he had always been like that. Ensuring his intentions were made clear and rectifying anything that he misinterpreted. Aside from his manner, it was his appearance that also made your stomach flutter.

Both his coat and vest were navy, though the latter item was patterned subtly with white stripes. Tied neatly around his collar was a white cravat which accentuated his strong jawline. What was most striking were his eyes. Green and amber, resembling a precious gemstone. You didn’t remember them being so entrancing.

You shook your head (both in response to his apology and to dispel your meddlesome thoughts), and curtsied.

“It’s alright, truly. I was already at the end of my viewing anyway.”

He moved closer to you, each step reverberating. Your heart thumped traitorously in your ears. You hoped he didn’t notice how you stiffened when he reached your side.

“You seemed engrossed,” he said, looking over at his own sculpture.

“W-were you perturbed by my staring?”

His eyes brimmed with earnest as he replied, “No, no, not at all. That is a galley’s purpose. These artworks are displayed to be looked at.”

He hesitated, thinking about his words before continuing. “Though, I would hope that a… prolonged viewing indicates your favor towards a certain piece.”

You grew hot. Had your admiration really been so obvious?

“This is really a lovely home, nicer than anything I’ve had the pleasure of visiting” you said, quickly changing the subject.

A small smile tugged at his lips. People would quickly change their opinions about his coldness if they were to see the expression on his face.

“My staff are to thank for their work in its upkeep,” he responded. “I’m glad it is to your liking.”

Neither of you spoke for a moment. Mere seconds that felt like eternity as you stood side by side, fiddling with the material of your respective clothing, as if they were the most attention grabbing thing in this very room. You played with the hem of your shawl whilst Zayne adjusted the wrists of his jacket.

“Was your journey here smooth?”

The question tumbled out of Zayne more hurried than he intended. Desperation tinged his words, almost pleading you to continue talking to him. He wanted to hear your voice. Wanted to hear you speak to him about anything, like you once could together.

“It was. I rode a carriage from town then walked,” you replied, brightly. “I went through the garden at the front on my way to the entrance, as well.”

“The jasmines are in bloom now, as are many of the other flowers. I can give you a more proper tour later on, if you’d like.”

“I would enjoy nothing more,” you chirped, unable to temper your excitement. “I remember jasmines were your favorite when you were younger.”

His gaze fell on you, voice wistful and sincere as he spoke. “They still are, very much so.”

Two images seemed to flicker before you. The boy you once knew, and the man standing before you now. Perhaps the two were never separate. There would always be traces of your youth together, no matter when or where you found each other. This realization entered your mind with tenderness, much like the words of a loving mother doting on her child.

Again, the conversation lulled.

The statues and paintings were stationery witnesses to the endearing awkwardness of this pair reunited. Neither of you had the courage to look at each other, lest you revealed the flush that spread across both your faces. With nothing but Snowfield Park and time to yourselves, there would be much catching up to do.

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212 notes · View notes

elryuse · 2 days ago

Note

A yandere smut with Winter, Minji and Danielle? The m reader gets constantly tortured and used by the girls heheh THANK UUUU I HOPE U CONSIDER, I LOVE UR STUFF!!😩😩♥️

Total Control

Idols : Winter, Minji & Danielle

Tags : Yandere, Dominant Winter, Minji & Danielle, Obsession, Torturing, Kissing, Marking, Dirty Talking, Pussy Eating, Ass Eating

Words : 3,812 Words

Hoped You Liked it My Friend

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The locker room door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing off the tiled walls. Your heart pounded in your chest as Minjeong pinned you against the cold metal, her breath hot against your neck. Her lips curled into a wicked smirk, and her eyes gleamed with a dangerous light.

“You’ve been a bad boy, haven’t you?” she purred, her voice low and teasing.

You tried to stammer a response, but her fingers dug into your shoulders, silencing you. She’s so close, you thought, your mind racing. Too close.

Minjeong leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. “I know your secret,” she whispered, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “And now… you’re mine.”

Before you could react, she sunk her teeth into your neck, a playful nibble that sent a shiver down your spine. You gasped, your body instinctively arching towards her. What is she doing? Your mind screamed, but your body… your body was already betraying you.

Her tongue traced the spot where she had bitten you, soothing the sting before her lips found yours. The kiss was fierce, demanding, and you found yourself unable to resist. Her hands roamed your body, exploring every inch as if she owned you. And maybe, in that moment, she did.

You tried to pull away, to remind yourself that this was wrong, but the pleasure was overwhelming. Your thoughts were a jumbled mess, and all you could focus on was the heat of her body pressed against yours.

Minjeong’s hands moved lower, her fingers deftly undoing your pants. You felt exposed, vulnerable, but also… aroused. Your cock throbbed with anticipation, and she didn’t miss it.

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of you, and a sly smile spread across her lips. “Oh, you’re perfect,” she murmured, her voice filled with awe.

Before you could respond, she dropped to her knees, her lips wrapping around your length. You groaned, your hands gripping the locker for support. This can’t be real, you thought, but the sensation was undeniable.

Her tongue swirled around the tip, teasing you before she took more of you into her mouth. The warmth, the wetness… it was too much. You felt yourself losing control, your hips bucking slightly as she worked you with expert precision.

“Minjeong…” you moaned, your voice barely above a whisper.

She pulled away, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, we’re just getting started,” she said, her voice filled with promise.

With that, she took you back into her mouth, her hands gripping your hips to keep you steady. You felt the tension building, your body trembling with the need to release. And when you finally did, she didn’t stop. She kept going, milking every last drop from you until you were completely spent.

As you caught your breath, Minjeong stood up, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. “You’re coming with me,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Before you could protest, she grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the locker room. Your mind was still reeling from what had just happened, and you had no idea where she was taking you. But deep down, you knew there was no turning back.

Minjeong led you to a nearby classroom, where Minji and Danielle were waiting. They looked up as you entered, their eyes lighting up with a predatory gleam.

“So, this is the one?” Minji asked, her voice smooth and confident.

Minjeong nodded, her smirk returning. “Oh, he’s perfect,” she replied, her eyes locking with yours. “And he’s all ours."

You felt a chill run down your spine as the three of them closed in on you. What are they planning? Your heart raced as they began to undress, their movements slow and deliberate.

Minji was the first to approach, her hands sliding up your chest as she pressed her body against yours. “You’re going to be a very good boy for us, aren’t you?” she whispered, her breath warm against your ear.

You nodded, unable to form words as her lips found yours. Her kiss was softer than Minjeong’s, but no less demanding. She broke away, leaving you breathless as Danielle took her place.

Danielle’s hands were everywhere, exploring your body with a hunger that was both thrilling and terrifying. She pushed you down onto a nearby desk, her eyes never leaving yours. “You’re going to make us so happy,” she said, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

You felt her hands between your legs, stroking you until you were hard again. The sensation was overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but moan as she mounted you, sinking down onto your cock.

Her hips moved in slow, deliberate circles, drawing out every bit of pleasure from you. You felt yourself getting closer to the edge, but just as you were about to cum, she pulled away, leaving you desperate for release.

Minji took her place, her body sliding against yours as she took you inside her. She moved faster, her hands gripping your shoulders as she rode you. The pleasure was intense, and you felt yourself losing control.

“Oh, god…” you moaned, your body trembling with the need to release.

Minji laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine. “Not yet,” she teased, her hips slowing down as she leaned in to kiss you.

You felt like you were on the edge of insanity, your body begging for release as they took turns using you. The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and the smell of sex, and you knew there was no escape.

Finally, Minjeong took her turn, her body moving against yours with a fierce intensity. You felt the tension building, your body trembling as you approached the edge. And when you finally came, it was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

The three of them didn’t stop, their bodies moving against yours as they continued to take what they wanted. You felt completely at their mercy, your mind a haze of pleasure and desire.

As the room grew darker and the tension more intense, you knew this was only the beginning. They had marked you as theirs, and there was no going back.

“We’re not done with you yet,” Minjeong whispered, her voice filled with a dangerous promise. “Not even close.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as they led you out of the classroom, your mind still reeling from what had just happened. But you knew, deep down, that this was just the start of something much more intense.

The three of them led you to their apartment, their hands never leaving your body. The moment the door closed behind you, you felt the atmosphere shift.

“Strip,” Minji commanded, her voice leaving no room for disobedience.

You hesitated for a moment, but the look in her eyes made it clear that you didn’t have a choice. Slowly, you removed your clothes, feeling completely exposed under their gaze.

Danielle approached you, her fingers tracing the marks they had left on your skin. “You belong to us now,” she said, her voice filled with a possessive satisfaction.

Minjeong stepped forward, her hand gripping your chin as she forced you to look at her. “And we’re going to make sure you never forget that.”

You felt a mix of fear and arousal as they began to take control, their hands and mouths exploring every inch of your body. The pleasure was intense, but there was also a sense of danger that kept you on edge.

As they pushed you to your limits, you knew there was no escape. They had claimed you, and they were going to make sure you never forgot it.

“You’re ours,” Minjeong whispered, her voice filled with a dangerous promise. “And we’re never letting you go.”

Their hands and mouths continued to explore your body, the pleasure and pain blending together in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. You knew this was only the beginning, and you couldn’t help but wonder what else they had in store for you.

As the night wore on, the tension in the room grew more and more intense. You could feel their obsession deepening, their need for you becoming more and more apparent.

“You’re going to be so good for us,” Minji whispered, her voice filled with a dangerous excitement. “Aren’t you?”

You nodded, your mind a haze of pleasure and desire. You knew there was no escape, and deep down, you didn’t want to.

As they continued to take what they wanted, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into their world. The lines between pleasure and pain blurred, and you knew there was no going back.

The room was filled with the sounds of their moans and the smell of sex, and you felt completely at their mercy. You knew this was only the beginning, and you couldn’t help but wonder what else they had in store for you.

“You’re ours,” Minjeong whispered, her voice filled with a dangerous promise. “And we’re never letting you go.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine as their hands and mouths continued to explore your body, the pleasure and pain blending together in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying. You knew this was only the beginning, and you couldn’t help but wonder what else they had in store for you.

As the night wore on, the tension in the room grew more and more intense. You could feel their obsession deepening, their need for you becoming more and more apparent.

“You’re going to be so good for us,” Minji whispered, her voice filled with a dangerous excitement. “Aren’t you?”

You nodded, your mind a haze of pleasure and desire. You knew there was no escape, and deep down, you didn’t want to.

As they continued to take what they wanted, you felt yourself falling deeper and deeper into their world. The lines between pleasure and pain blurred, and you knew there was no going back.

The morning light filtered through the blinds of the apartment, casting soft streaks across the room. You stirred slightly, your body still aching from the night before, but before you could fully awaken, you felt the cool touch of rope against your wrists. Your eyes fluttered open to see Minjeong leaning over you, her smirk as wicked as ever, her fingers deftly tying the knots with practiced ease.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” she purred, her voice low and teasing. “Did you think we were done with you?” The rope tightened around your wrists, securing them to the bedposts above your head. You tugged instinctively, but the knots held firm. Minjeong’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she leaned in, her breath hot against your ear. ”You’re not going anywhere, lover.”

Minji appeared beside her, her presence commanding, her hands already trailing down your chest. ”Relax,” she murmured, her voice smooth but firm. ”We’re just getting started.” Her fingers brushed over your nipples, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You gasped, your back arching involuntarily as she grinned, clearly pleased with your reaction. ”You’re so sensitive,” she teased, her nails lightly scratching down your abdomen. ”It’s adorable.”

Danielle crawled onto the bed from the foot, her movements sinuous and predatory. Her eyes locked onto yours, and there was no mistaking the hunger in her gaze. ”You’re ours,” she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement. ”All ours.” Her hands slid up your thighs, her touch electric, and you shuddered as she leaned in, her lips brushing against your inner thigh. ”And we’re going to take our time with you.”

Minjeong’s lips found your neck, her teeth grazing your skin in a way that made you gasp. ”You’ve been such a good boy,” she murmured, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. ”But I think it’s time we really made you ours.” Her tongue traced a path along your collarbone, her hands roaming freely over your chest. ”You belong to us now. Do you understand?”

You nodded, unable to form words as Minji’s hands continued their exploration, her touch firm and demanding. Her fingers dipped lower, teasing at the edge of your boxers. ”Such a good boy,” she cooed, her voice low and sultry. ”You’re going to let us do anything we want, aren’t you?” Her fingers slipped beneath the fabric, brushing against your length, and you moaned, your hips bucking instinctively. Minji’s grin widened, her grip tightening slightly. ”That’s it,” she murmured. ”Let us take control.”

Danielle’s lips joined the assault, her mouth trailing kisses up your thigh, each one sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. She paused just short of your boxers, her breath hot against your skin. ”You’re so perfect,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and desire. ”I can’t wait to taste you.” Her hands gripped your hips, her nails digging in slightly as she pulled you closer, her lips hovering just above your length. ”Tell me you want this,” she demanded, her eyes locking onto yours. ”Tell me you’re ours.”

You whimpered, the words escaping your lips before you could even think. ”I… I’m yours.” Danielle’s grin was triumphant, her tongue darting out to tease the tip of your length before she took you into her mouth. You cried out, your back arching as her lips wrapped around you, her tongue swirling expertly. Your hands clenched into fists, the ropes digging into your wrists as she began to move, her mouth hot and wet and perfect.

Minjeong’s lips returned to your neck, her teeth nipping at your skin as her hands roamed freely over your chest. ”You’re doing so well,” she whispered, her voice filled with praise and a hint of danger. ”Just let go. Let us take care of you.” Her fingers pinched your nipples, the sharp sensation mixing with the pleasure coursing through your body. You moaned, your head falling back against the pillows as Danielle’s mouth worked its magic, her pace increasing as her hands gripped your hips tightly.

Minji wasn’t content to sit back and watch. Her hands slid down your sides, her nails leaving faint trails that made you shiver. She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear. ”You’re ours,” she whispered, her voice low and possessive. ”And we’re going to make sure you never forget it.” Her hand slipped beneath you, her fingers teasing at your entrance, and you gasped, your body tensing in surprise. ”Relax,” she murmured, her lips pressing against your neck. ”We’re going to take such good care of you.”

The sensations were overwhelming, your body caught between pleasure and the faint edge of pain as they worked you over. Danielle’s mouth continued its relentless assault, her lips and tongue driving you closer and closer to the edge. Minjeong’s teeth grazed your shoulder, her hands roaming freely over your chest, while Minji’s fingers teased and explored, her touch both firm and deliberate.

Danielle pulled back suddenly, a wicked grin on her lips as she looked up at you. ”Not yet,” she said, her voice filled with playful menace. ”We’re not done with you.” Her hands gripped your thighs, her nails digging in slightly as she leaned in, her tongue trailing a path up your length. ”We’re going to make you cum so hard,” she whispered, her voice trembling with excitement. ”But not yet. Not until we say so.”

Minji’s fingers pressed harder, her touch insistent as she leaned in, her lips brushing against your neck. ”You’re so perfect,” she murmured, her voice filled with awe and desire. ”We’re going to take such good care of you.” Her fingers began to move, slowly at first, driving you to the edge as Danielle’s mouth returned to your length, her pace increasing once more.

You were lost in the sensations, your body trembling as they brought you to the edge again and again, only to deny you release. Their hands and mouths explored every inch of your body, their touches both tender and demanding, their voices filled with promises of more to come.

Minjeong’s lips brushed against your ear, her voice a low whisper.

Minjeong’s nails dug into your shoulders as she climbed onto your lap, her eyes locking with yours. Her smirk was wicked, her lips curling in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re going to love this,” she whispered, her voice a low purr that made your heart race. She shifted, her hips grinding against yours as she positioned herself. You could feel her heat, her wetness pressing against your length, and you shuddered, a mix of anticipation and helplessness coursing through you.

She lowered herself slowly, her breath hitching as she took you in inch by inch. Her hands gripped your shoulders tighter, her nails leaving marks as she moaned softly. “So good,” she murmured, her voice trembling with pleasure. She began to move, her hips rolling in slow, deliberate motions that made your head spin. Her pace was torturous, each movement drawing a whimper from your lips.

Minji’s voice cut through the haze of pleasure. “My turn,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She pushed Minjeong aside, her hands gripping your hips as she positioned herself above you. Her movements were faster, more demanding, as she sank down onto you with a sharp gasp. Her hands pressed into your chest, her nails leaving crescent marks as she began to ride you with a fierce intensity. Her breaths were short, her eyes dark with desire as she looked down at you. “You’re ours,” she whispered, her voice filled with possession.

Danielle was next, her eagerness evident as she practically shoved Minji out of the way. She straddled you, her hands immediately gripping your wrists as she lowered herself onto you. Her movements were wild, unrelenting, as she took what she wanted from you. Her moans filled the room, her nails digging into your skin as she rode you with abandon. “You’re mine,” she panted, her voice filled with a desperate need.

The three of them took turns, their bodies moving against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless. Each time one of them climbed onto you, it was as if they were claiming you all over again, their touches and words filled with a possessiveness that made your heart race. You were completely at their mercy, your body responding to their every command.

Then, Minji shifted, her movements slowing as she leaned forward, her hands gripping the headboard for support. She positioned her pussy in front of your face, her voice low and commanding. “Eat,” she ordered, her tone leaving no room for disobedience. You hesitated for just a moment before giving in, your tongue darting out to taste her. Her moan was immediate, her hips grinding against your face as you licked and teased her. She was wet, her taste intoxicating as you focused on pleasuring her. “Yes,” she moaned, her voice trembling with pleasure. Her hands gripped your hair, pulling you closer as she pressed herself harder against your face. “Don’t stop,” she demanded, her voice filled with a desperate need.

Minjeong was next, her movements quick and deliberate as she shoved Minji aside. She positioned herself above your face, her pussy pressing against your mouth. She didn’t need to say a word; you knew what she wanted. You began to lick her, your tongue teasing her clit as she moaned softly. Her hands gripped the headboard, her hips moving against your face as she took her pleasure from you. “Just like that,” she whispered, her voice filled with a mix of pleasure and control. You could feel her walls clenching around your tongue as she got closer to the edge, her moans growing louder.

Danielle didn’t wait for an invitation. She shoved Minjeong aside, her hands gripping your face as she positioned her pussy in front of your mouth. She was eager, her movements quick and demanding as she pressed herself against you. “Now,” she ordered, her voice filled with a desperate need. You complied, your tongue darting out to taste her. She tasted sweet, her wetness coating your lips as you licked and teased her. Her moans were loud, her hips grinding against your face as she took what she wanted from you. “More,” she panted, her voice trembling with pleasure.

The three of them continued to take turns, their moans filling the room as they rode you, their bodies moving against yours in a rhythm that left you breathless. Each time one of them climbed onto you, it was as if they were claiming you all over again, their touches and words filled with a possessiveness that made your heart race. You were completely at their mercy, your body responding to their every command.

Then, Minji was back, her hips grinding against yours as she took you in inch by inch. Her moans were soft, her movements slow and deliberate as she began to ride you. She leaned forward, her hands gripping your chest as she looked down at you. “You’re mine,” she whispered, her voice filled with possession. Her pace quickened, her walls clenching around you as she got closer to the edge. Her moans grew louder, her nails digging into your skin as she finally came, her body trembling as she rode out her orgasm.

Minjeong was next, her movements quick and demanding as she sank down onto you. Her eyes locked with yours, her smirk wicked as she began to ride you. Her pace was fast, her hips grinding against yours as she took what she wanted from you. “You’re mine,” she panted, her voice filled with a desperate need. Her walls clenched around you as she came, her body trembling as she rode out her orgasm.

Danielle didn’t wait for an invitation. She shoved Minjeong aside, her movements wild and unrelenting as she sank down onto you. Her moans filled the room, her nails digging into your skin as she rode you with abandon. “You’re mine,” she panted, her voice filled with a desperate need. Her walls clenched around you as she came, her body trembling as she rode out her orgasm.

The room was filled with their moans, their bodies trembling as they rode you, their walls clenching around you again and again. Their nails dug into your skin, their breaths short and shallow as they came. Their eyes were dark, filled with a hunger that made your heart race. They didn’t just want you—they needed you.

“You’re ours,” Minji whispered, her voice trembling with desire as she leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear.

“Forever,” Minjeong added, her voice low and filled with possession as she kissed your neck.

“And always,” Danielle murmured, her voice filled with a desperate need as she pressed herself against you.

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unintentionalseductress · 4 hours ago

Text

How To Court A Dragon

Warnings: MDNI, sex, monster fucking, DVP, explicit genitalia descriptions, double pp, size kink, mentions of breeding Summary: You unintentionally became his mate. Of course, you have some questions. A/n: Hey ya'll! I used to be called nanamiscocksleeve! Here it is! Now...I hope this isn't something people will shy away from because it took me a lot of effort to write this, not to mention all the weird questions I asked Google about reptilian mating parts (there's a sentence I never thought I'd write!). Also, the things about the pp...I was imagining this scene from The Shape of Water 🤭🤭🤭. Enjoy my fellow monster lovers!

“Sylus?” You glance over at the large, intimidating dragon occupying about half the space on the large fur rug you’re both lying on. The dragon, idly fiddling with a gilded coin, glances at you with a bored look in his ruby eyes.

“Yes, kitten?” he asks in his usual growl as he flicks the coin away onto a pile of gold.

“We’ve known each other for quite some time.”

Sylus raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I suppose we have.”

“I was wondering…if I could ask some questions.”

“Questions?” Sylus looks at you with mild curiosity. “Hmm, let me consult my schedule... ah yes, I have a free moment between ‘hoarding treasure’ and ‘menacing villagers.’ Make it quick." He flashes you a sarcastic grin and you roll your eyes.

“Can you ever just speak normally? Wait that’s not my question!” You add hastily as Sylus’s eyes flash in amusement, clearly about to reply and further annoy you by not answering what you really had in mind.

A deep, rumbling chuckle emanates from Sylus’s throat. “Go ahead, sweetie.”

You fiddle with the rug, wondering how to phrase your question. You had been living with, if it could be called that, a dragon for a reasonable amount of time now. Between the cave and Tarus City, there wasn’t a glimpse of another human for miles, and now, he was the closest thing to companionship that you had.

Initially, you were worried he wasn’t interested in you beyond consuming you as a meal but as time progressed, the two of you had struck a balanced relationship. Now whenever you and Sylus ventured out into Tarus City, the inhabitants had begun to refer to you as the dragon’s mate. The thought had initially made you blush because ‘mate’ referred to something more carnal and intimate than whatever you two were. However, Sylus had made no effort to correct them, and now you had unwittingly accepted the title, and it had become part of your identity.

There was a cavern within the long and winding cave filled with books from faraway lands and one day when you had nothing else to do, you’d come across a book entitled “The Courtship of Dragons”. It was obviously written from a human point of view but you’d read things that had left you with many questions; most of it seemed to be a work of fantasy like the author had made up some parts just to keep the reader’s attention. You’d turned these thoughts over and over in your head until you decided enough was enough and that you needed to get the answers straight from the dragon’s mouth.

“I read something about…dragon mating. And I’m a little confused by it.” You venture out the topic hesitantly, looking at him for a reaction. Sylus’s face remains impassive as he regards you.

“Dragon mating?” he chuckles as you avert your eyes back onto the rug, plucking at the fur as you do so. “Whatever did you read? Tell me. I’m quite curious to know.”

You clear your throat before continuing. “Well, the author said dragons have an innate sense about recognizing their mates and that they don’t…nest with other dragons. Is that true?”

Sylus rolls over onto his side contemplating. “Yes, that’s true. Dragons do mate for life. Once they find the one, they become their own unit. They make their own lair, and no other dragon is allowed to enter it. We get highly territorial if this is violated.”

“I see.” You twiddle your thumbs together. “And…what if…your real mate is out there somewhere? Wouldn’t my presence be a downside?”

“My real mate?” Sylus asks in a vexing tone. “I’m not sure I follow.”

You look at him in disbelief before hedging on. “You know, your real mate. The dragon you’re supposed to be with.”

“You keep forgetting I’m only half dragon. Chances of my mate being completely dragon aren’t high.”

You click your tongue impatiently. “Fine, the other half-dragon or whatever. Isn’t she still out there? If she turns up in your life one day, then doesn’t that mean…” Your voice trails as you consider the implications.

“Yes?” Sylus prompts you.

“Well we’d have to shake hands and part ways right?” You rest your cheek on your palm, bearing your weight on your elbow as you turn to look at him. “I wouldn’t be allowed here anymore since you have a mate.”

“What makes you think my mate would be a dragon hybrid?”

The question exasperates you. “Aren’t you the one who said your mate wouldn’t be completely dragon?”

“I did. But you seem to be forgetting another possibility.”

“What? Is there a percentage of dragon she has to be for this to work?”

Sylus lets out a booming laugh, the noise echoing richly off the walls of his cave. You look at him confoundedly, unable to fathom what made him laugh like this.

“There’s no need to mock me.” You huff irritably as you watch his abdomen quiver from his mirth. “I’m just trying to familiarize myself with dragon etiquette.”

Sylus quiets down at your tone before he reaches out a clawed hand and flicks your forehead. “Can you really not think of another possibility?”

“No.” You curtly bite out the word. “And I don't appreciate being teased.”

The dragon shakes his head, a wide grin forming on his chiseled face.

“You seem oblivious to the possibility that she could also be human.” The tone with which he says the words render you momentarily speechless. You hadn’t in fact, considered that as a possibility at all. How could a normal human become a mate to a dragon?

Almost as if Sylus had sensed your curiosity, he explains. “I didn’t make the rules, sweetie. Dragon hybrids are known to find human mates more often than not. Perhaps with the hope that their offspring have a chance to become completely human.”

Fascinated with this bit of information, you turn it over in your head. “Aren’t you interested in finding her?”

“Finding her?” Sylus chuckles. “Why would I put in that effort when she’s been with me this whole time?” He raises an eyebrow at you as you process his words, then falter as the meaning finally washes over you.

“Me?!” You sputter as Sylus watches amusedly, his tail swishing across the rug. “Just because the villagers of Tarus City think I’m your mate doesn’t make it true!”

“Indeed, it doesn’t,” Sylus agrees almost maddeningly. “What makes it true is the mark I left on your neck.”

Your breath hitches and the moment seems to stand still, stuck in time like a black-and-white photograph. Instinctively, your fingers reach for the bite mark Sylus had left on the crook of your neck when he’d first met you. “What about it?” you ask defensively.

Enjoying the flustered look on your face, the dragon calmly explains. “The mark would have faded by now if you weren’t fated for me. Mate marks last forever, no matter when they’re given.” He smirks, revealing his sharp teeth.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” You burst out, overwhelmed by this reveal. “ I’ve been sitting here day after day thinking at some point you’ll find your true mate and I’d have to think about how to fend for myself!”

“I’m sorry, but I’m confused about which of these is more distressing to you. The idea of moving out, or realizing you’re my mate?” Sylus asks the question with a lilt and you resist the urge to punch him, knowing you’d injure yourself against those scales.

“Both,” you say swiftly, then turn away from him. You’re taken aback as his tail suddenly wraps around your waist and pulls you against him. His chest is warm against your back and his breath tickles your neck as you squirm in his grasp.

“Where do you think you’re going my little one?” Sylus purrs in your ears. Determined not to let him get a rise out of you, you sulk, ceasing all movements even as your heart pounds in your chest. His chin brushes against the top of your head like a territorial cat. “What? All bark and no bite?” A soft laugh emanates from him as he continues to hold your body against his and you realize…

“Are you snuggling me?” You resist the urge to look over your shoulder and Sylus presses a kiss to it in response.

“Yes. Snuggling between a dragon and their mate isn’t uncommon. Was that not in your readings?” He teases as he continues nuzzling into your warm skin which was steadily heating up under his attention.

“But when did we become mates?” You rack your brains, trying to think amidst the fluffy fog now filling your brain as Sylus continues to show his affection.

“It’s not something you become. It’s something you are. Do you ask the water why it flows, or why the sun is bright?” Sylus’s tail wraps further around you, the smooth scales feeling comfortably warm against your skin. “You just are. I knew it. The inhabitants of Tarus City knew it.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me.” You quip sarcastically as his nose buries itself into your hair, smelling the sweet scent of the soap you’d used earlier in the day.

“Would you have believed me?” His inhalations were sending tingles across your scalp and you tried not to melt into his embrace which was surprisingly warm and secure.

“I-I suppose not,” you admit begrudgingly before your eyes flutter closed. Sylus continues his tender handling, and with a sigh, you finally give in, rolling to face him and letting him embrace you against his chest. He doesn’t say anything but cups the back of your head, claws gently scratching through your scalp and you drowsily let him caress the silky locks.

Noticing your unwillingness starting to fade, Sylus murmurs, “Does the prospect of being my mate seem less daunting now?”

His tail wraps around the backs of your thighs and you glance up at him, blushing when you see him gazing back at you intently. Those brilliant ruby eyes, akin to those in his treasury, had an intensity you couldn’t place. It was almost like they could pierce into your very soul and see all of you bare. The thought made you feel exposed and you blink, trying to gather your thoughts. The sharp, dagger-like tip of his tail now rested on your hip, and you hesitantly began to finger it, unsure what to say.

“Not less daunting,” you start, observing how his tail flicks gently in response to your touch, the sharp, hooked scales at the very end softening and flattening against your palm. “Not in the least. You are ancient, powerful, eternal. People fear you even as they look at you in awe. A dragon is timeless, and as a human, I’m like a fleeting ember, a mere second in your life. I might have a thirst for revenge on those who wronged me, but I am an ordinary human. I don’t understand why you believe I would be a suitable mate.”

You steal another look at him and see that his pupils are starting to dilate, the dark center of them consuming the red. Sylus lets out a noise of frustration, seemingly ready to give up trying to convince you, but to your surprise, he takes a deep breath of fortifying patience, then grasps your chin with his fingers, ensuring you can see his face.

“I’m going to give you one, final, absolute, piece of proof. And if you still don’t believe it, then I will eat you so that I don’t have to listen to your maddening doubts anymore.” His tone implies he’s being humorous, but you cautiously watch him, fully aware that you have no defenses against those teeth and claws. You nod, his fingers dipping with the movement.

“You and I share half of each other’s soul. A typical human vessel wouldn’t be capable of such a thing. Not unless you are fated.” He lets go of your face and brings your ear to his chest. His heartbeat was a steady thud-thud-thud, and yet…it felt like a call. Like something was there inviting you to come home, even though you didn’t know where it was, and suddenly, you feel your own heartbeat start to resonate with his, automatically following his rhythm, inexplicable, deep, primal. He waits and you realize what he’s been trying to say all along. There was no reasoning behind mates. You just knew.

You swallow, feeling like you’d been doused with a bucket of cold water, then place your hand over his heart, feeling a little thrill as he covers it with his. A shaky breath forces its way out of you as you lean your forehead against him, a sense of enlightenment washing over you.

“Understand now?” Sylus asks almost imploringly and your heart clenches at the tone.

“Yes.” You gather courage and look him in the eyes. “I do.” Then in a much softer tone, you add, “I’m sorry.”

At your apology, Sylus gathers you in his arms, his embrace almost suffocating as he holds you. Your hands wrap around his back, feeling the points in his skin where the wings sprouted from his body. It felt strangely intimate to touch something like this, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers along the ridges, fascinated by the texture. Sylus’s breath catches in his throat and he loosens his grip, easing you back onto the rug.

With confidence, you raise a hand to cup his face, your chest swelling with joy as he turns into your touch, his lips grazing your palm. You’d never seen him so vulnerable and defenseless, the fact that he was baring a secretive part of himself to you humbling. You don’t stop him as he lays over you, nuzzling your neck and letting out a series of low growls that sound strangely affectionate.

You giggle, and he pauses, looking at you with keen interest. “Something amusing you, my love?”

“You’re like a cat,” you tease, then pet the hair between his horns. Even as his expression changes to being miffed, his eyelids become half closed.

“I am most certainly not a cat.” He sounds affronted but makes no move to stop your petting, and more low growls escape his throat. You can’t control your mirth and the giggles now bubble out of you uncontrollably.

“Then how come you’re purring?” You stop petting his hair and cup his face with both hands, a wide smile forming on your face as Sylus opens his eyes, which are hazy and languid.

"That... that isn't purring," The dragon hybrid says with a slight huff. "That was a growl, and you know it."

“Or is that just how dragons purr?” You playfully run your fingers behind his ears, massaging the lobes and then back into his scalp at the base of both horns.

Sylus tries to keep up his facade of stubbornness, but the gentle massages make him shiver with pleasure. "No, that's a growl. Purring sounds like..." He attempts to imitate a cat's purring, but it came out more like a deep rumbling that vibrated throughout his chest.

You snicker, and then an uncontrollable fit of laughter seizes you, the kind that makes your shoulders and chest shake. Here was this mythical creature, feared and worshipped, yet somehow, trying to imitate a cat despite insisting he was not behaving like one. You brush away a tear from your eye, then look at Sylus who’s sulking, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of crimson. Was this the same dragon that you had worried about being a mate to?

"You-you're insufferable, you know that?" He grumbled, even as he nuzzled his face against your neck; he couldn’t seem to help himself. You reassuringly pat his back.

“If this is how dragons treat their mate, then I’m no longer worried.”

“Is that so?” Sylus retreats so that he can gaze down at you. You can see how his expression is softening, betraying the depth of his fondness for you.

“Yeah. I’m starting to come around.”

“Good. I’m glad I was able to change your mind.” Sylus takes your hand and brings it to his mouth, kissing your knuckles and causing your heart to flip-flop inside your chest. Your free hand idly strokes his back, still engrossed with the different textures of his skin where the wings began.

“You seem to have a lot of thoughts about my wings,” Sylus observes as you fondle the leathery base.

“How big are they?” You ask curiously, then gasp as Sylus suddenly pins you under him, then with a rustling noise, his wings fully extend for your viewing pleasure. You look at them, enthralled by the contrasting marbled red and black membranes, little spikes lining the upper ridges.

“About ten feet each,” Sylus says gruffly with a hint of pride. “Pure dragons are much bigger though.”

You reach out a finger, watching for signs of resistance and when he doesn’t show any, gently trace the membranes, observing how the sunlight illuminated through them like a backdrop.

Sylus hums at your exploration, his wings twitching slightly before he lies flush against you, putting them in easier reach of your wandering fingers. He resumes that low growling as you do so, and as you watch him close his eyes, another question forms in your head.

“Sylus…are your wings sensitive when touched?”

He cracks his eyes open, and there’s a quality to them that wasn’t present before. A hint of…nervousness?

“Yes.” He admits after a gap in a slightly breathless tone. “But only when you touch them.”

His words only make you more captivated, and you continue to delicately stroke down the leathery expanses, the surfaces almost silky to your touch. As you do so, Sylus suddenly squeezes his eyes closed and lets out a rough moan, like he is doing his best to not lose his restraint.

Your hands freeze as you feel his claws scrape against your clothes, digging into your soft skin as his wings swiftly drop from their extended positions, cocooning you in a swaddle of red and black.

Unsure what just happened, you gently try stroking his hair again. There had been no mention of dragons behaving like this in the books you’d read, and you were burning to ask him, but not if he wasn’t in the right state of mind.

“Sylus?” You call his name softly and hear him hum in response. “Are you ok?”

He lets out a few uneven breaths before resting his head on your chest just underneath your chin. “Yes…I’m fine. No need to worry.”

“Is it all right if I ask something else?”

“Does it have to do with those ridiculous readings of yours again?”

You’re about to protest but decide against it. He was behaving in a completely unprecedented manner and you weren’t about to kill the adorable mood.

“Why are your wings wrapped around me like this?” Your hands rest on his flanks, feeling his tail swishing as it lightly hits your feet.

It seems to take him a great deal of willpower to bring himself into a state where he can answer. When he finally speaks, his voice is a low, mesmerizing, rumble, and you feel yourself tremble in response.

"When a dragon has a mate, it's not uncommon to wrap our wings around them. It's like a protective shield, a barrier that symbolizes possession. You might say it’s our way of claiming our beloved as ours." Sylus’s mouth ghosts your ear, and his next words cause gooseflesh to erupt on your skin.

“Sometimes, the urge to mate becomes too strong and dragons don’t particularly enjoy being watched. The size of our wings is significant because they must be able to completely wrap around their mate as our primal instincts take over. Hides them from unwanted eyes. After all, there can be no treasure more precious to a dragon than our mate.”

A claw gently pushes away a stray lock of hair from your face and Sylus gazes longly at your face. Swallowing, you press on with your questions, despite feeling a steady rise of tingling heat beginning in your belly and slowly flooding into your chest and sex.

“And when dragons mate…is it similar to other animals going into a rut?”

Sylus chuckles, and his tail slides up your body, slithering between your breasts, the feel of each scale brushing against you sparking little flames of desire under your skin. His forehead rests against yours and his wings seem to tighten around you even more.

“Rut would be the wrong word. A rut would imply something quick and with little intention other than impregnation. Dragons do not rut like most basic animals…we have a long and sensual ritual, lasting for a significant period, and the end goal is to ensure our mate’s satisfaction. Also, dragons do not have a set season like most animals. Rituals can occur anytime provided both mates are willing.”

Your mouth goes dry at the explanation, and you can see the edges of his scarlet irises beginning to darken even more, like bits of smoke mixing with magma. “A-A r-ritual?” Your tongue feels like it’s too big for your mouth and you stumble over the words.

“Yes my little one,” Sylus purrs, and this time when his lips touch your ear, he follows it with a wet lick of his tongue, awakening a heady, primal, storm inside your gut. “The dragon breeding ritual. A crucial part of dragon courtship. During this time, the male will go into a rather intense state of need. Nothing matters beyond being close to and satisfying his mate. And the female must be prepared for a rather… passionate experience."

Your next words fall out of your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“Are a dragon’s organs compatible with a human’s?” You cover your mouth as soon as you ask, face flushing with embarrassment. You hadn’t meant to ask it so crudely, but too little too late.

Sylus gives you an appraising look, his lips curling. “Well…simply put, yes. They’re compatible with human mating organs but they’re certainly not visually similar.” His reply astounds you and you blink, unprepared for his answer, rendered speechless. Questions buzz in your head as you mull over what you’ve been told.

“I’m guessing there’s more?” Sylus’s eyes glitter with mischief.

“Ah…well….” You recall one last thing you had read and it was so outlandish that you weren’t sure how to put it into words. Sylus watches you patiently as you try to get your words together. “The book…the book said…that dragons are…that they have…”

You swallow and bite the bullet. “That dragons have two.”

Silence follows your words and Sylus’s eyes widen, before he composes himself.

“Heh. Were you purposely saving the interesting questions for last sweetie?” A cheeky grin quirks his lips and you turn your face to hide in his wings.

“Now now. Don’t get all embarrassed with it out in the open.” Sylus grasps your chin and turns you to face him. “It looks like at least one thing in that book was right.”

Your eyes become as wide as dinner plates. “Really?”

“Yes. That bit of information is true. Male dragons do in fact have two mating organs.”

The casual way Sylus says these words, like he’s giving a biology lecture contrasts your shell-shocked expression. Your mind could now only attempt to imagine what it looked like and it was going haywire at the discovery.

Observing the stunned look on your face, Sylus gently nudges you. “Perhaps you shouldn’t ask questions that you’re not ready to hear the answers to, kitten.”

Your eyes rove down over his body, taking in the wide view of his chest, leading down to narrower hips and legs that seemed to stretch for days. Then his tail, an appendage adding another 6 feet to his whole length. And somewhere in between all this, tucked away under his leather trousers were not one, but two, dragon penises.

You try to recall your last encounter with a man, a knight, who had been keen on showing his abilities. It was fine, for lack of a better word, and you remembered how the man’s decently sized single organ shrunk once everything was over. Were Sylus’s similarly shrunken and stacked one above the other at this very moment?

At your lack of response, Sylus chuckles, then in an unexpected gesture of tenderness, strokes your hair. “I can tell this isn’t the end of it. Go on. Get it all out.”

Your mind seems to have lost its ability to think. Wetting your lips, you try to think of something reasonable to say but words have lost all meaning. After a few more minutes of silence, during which Sylus has wrapped you up again in his arms and tail, enjoying your closeness, do you finally venture forward with an inquiry.

“Why two?”

Sylus makes an odd noise like he was choking down a laugh. He lets out a puff of air, chortling. “Ah, kitten. If only I knew. There are two theories, both of which don’t have much evidence to support them.” Sylus turns onto his side and you yip as you’re sandwiched between his wings, the upper one covering you like a blanket as Sylus moves into a more comfortable position, moving your body closer to his.

“The first theory is that because dragon pairings are rare, two organs help increase the chances of a successful pregnancy. The other…” he trails off and his smile becomes positively wicked before he continues. “The other suggests that having two serves no other purpose than to heighten the woman’s pleasure.”

An uncontrollable shiver runs down your spine and you feel your entire body become hot. Your voice is hushed as you ask, “And they…both…go into the same…?”

Catching on to what you were implying, Sylus chuckles at your reaction, your embarrassment only fueling his enjoyment. It was so tempting to tease you into a flustered mess.

"Ah, you're catching on, aren't you? Yes, both of them go... in the same place. And together, no less." He leans in, his mouth close to your ear again. "Can't you picture it, my dear? The sensation of both of them, inside you at the same time..."

You squeak at the graphic description and bury your face into his chest. “Ok, I’ve heard enough! Stop!” You try to calm your racing heart but Sylus’s low purr as he’d explained dragon anatomy was still ringing in your ears. There was a burning curiosity to ask him how it worked, how it fit but you were positive you would drop dead from the embarrassment.

You twitch when Sylus puts his calloused hands on your back, soothingly stroking your skin. “It’s all right my jewel. I know it’s a lot of information to process. Take your time. I’m yours after all.”

At his last few words, you lean away and glance at his face. “You’re mine?”

“Yes,” Sylus murmurs, the tenderness in his eyes becoming more evident. “As you are mine. I’m equally your mate as well.” There’s a tinge of possessiveness in his voice that you hadn’t heard before and it was making you feel weak; the thought of belonging to Sylus, of him belonging to you. There was an ancient concept of souls being bound at play and suddenly you find that you’re highly attuned to his mood; the atmosphere has changed, and part of you can feel the intense want that’s filling Sylus’s bloodstream, can sense the depth of his emotional bond as it echoes in his chest. Your body seems to synergize with his, each rush of blood, each dilation of the pupils, and every sigh that’s being shoved back all come into clarity. You reach out to touch his neck and the mating mark on yours seems to hum with life, drawing you closer to Sylus’s physical state.

Sylus looks intoxicated as he drinks in the sight of you, soft and pliant in his arms despite having done nothing but talk to you about courtship. You were still shy, but he can sense there’s now a primal instinct that’s beginning to take over. His restraint was at a limit but he waits for you to make the first move, knowing he’d regret it if his first act of intimacy with you was for his own selfishness. His voice dropped even lower, a rough, possessive growl.

“Be mine, my precious treasure. Be with me. Be Mine to claim, mine to protect, and mine to possess."

His words resonate deep within you and the overwhelming feelings you’d been holding back break like a dam. With trembling fingers, you stroke his cheek, dragging a fingertip across his lips, your breath catching as Sylus nibbles the digit.

Gathering courage, you ask him softly, “Can I see?”

A thrum seems to vibrate through the air and Sylus nods. “You wish to see all of me? I’m yours.”

Sensing you were too timid at the moment, Sylus undoes his trousers, and they rustle as he slips them down his legs. Still in his embrace, covered with his wings, you wait, then trail your hands down his heated abdomen. His heart pounds in his chest as you do so, feeling the unfamiliar terrain of skin and scales before your hand finally reaches its destination. Sylus’s harsh breathing can be heard as he waits for you to touch him but when you do so, you’re slightly puzzled.

Your fingers brush against smooth scales where a normal man’s genitals would be. You venture further, wondering.

“Sylus? They are here right?”

You hear a choked laugh, then he nuzzles the top of your head.

“Yes, my love. Like I said, visually, I’m not like a man.” His voice is gruff as he tries to explain. His hands roam across your body, squeezing the soft flesh and purring at the feeling.

“Then where…?”

“They're hidden beneath my scales, darling.” There’s a breathless quality as he speaks. “Just keep…petting me there.”

Sylus closes his eyes for a moment, his body trembling as you continue to touch him. The sensation of your fingers tracing the scales on his skin was both soothing and arousing, making it difficult to hold back the possessive roar that threatened to escape his throat. Watching your reaction as you explored the area where his scales ended and something more intimate began was threatening to snap his will in two like a twig.

“Oh!” Your eyes widen as you suddenly feel a bump starting to make itself evident.

“There…” Sylus’s voice is gravelly. “Go ahead, my dear... Lift my scales gently. Just a little...”

You feel like little electric currents are running nonstop under your skin as you follow his orders. Your sex pulses between your closed legs, all the courtship explanations still fresh in your mind. You carefully start to lift the scales over the bump, curiosity piqued as they give way to a sort of shallow slit, then before you can go any deeper, you feel something hard and moist rise out of the patch.

Whatever you had been imagining didn’t even come close to the real thing. You watch, transfixed, as Sylus’s twin cocks spring free, standing proudly in your palm. One was higher up on his body, and the other sat lower, and the lower one was slightly longer than the upper. Both of them were hot to the touch, beads of precum weeping from their slits. Colossal compared to a human, their surfaces were smooth but ridged in parts, in a way that resembled scales, yet softer. They were both coated in a sort of viscous, translucent, liquid, exuding from the cocks.

Sylus groans as he feels the heat of your palm against his cocks. In a constricted voice he asks, “Well? What do you think?”

Fascinated, you gently grip the lower one, silently noting the size of it compared to your forearm, and wrap your fingers around it, barely managing to make them meet around the engorged column. A low growl leaves Sylus as you start to pump the smooth, velvety, column, observing how the shorter top one also responds, pulsing in time with its pair. A slick, wet noise fills the air as you stroke him and Sylus’s hips begin to rock against your movements. His mouth is open and he’s panting, sweat gathering on his brow as you experimentally continue to touch him.

The scales that lined his cock were incredibly squishy and malleable, not at all having resemblance to the hard and sharp ridges on the rest of his body. As more of the lubricating fluid began to gather on his lengths, you wonder at the texture of those scales against the palm of your hand, and suddenly, start imagining how they would feel inside your cunt. Rubbing, stroking, providing extra stimulation as they nestled deep inside you. You bite your lip and steal a look at Sylus, heart jolting when you find him gazing right at you, and judging by his expression, he can feel the longing building deep inside your body.

“I can smell it, kitten.” He inhales deeply, your scent filling his senses like an aphrodisiac. “Your arousal. It’s as potent as the daturas on the mountainside.” His cheek brushes against yours and you freeze as he kisses the corner of your lips. It was so unexpected and sweet and you turn towards him.

“Bloom for me,” Sylus whispers before his lips lay over yours, capturing them in a deep and passionate kiss. Your breath catches in your throat and it’s like the kiss had opened a gate, all your raw desires coming loose. Like a ball of unwinding yarn, your arms draw around Sylus’s neck, pressing as possibly close as you can to him, your mouth opening sweetly to offer him your tongue.

The unbridled ardor of your reaction has Sylus groaning like a drowning man, his tongue slipping deeper into your wet cavern, sipping, sampling, and savoring the flavors that were unique to you. The rushing thrill of your surrender was a dizzying upward spiral as his hands roamed over your body, cupping your clothed breasts as his wings quivered from the tingling delight of being wrapped so snugly around your form.

Sylus breaks the kiss and his long, dexterous, tongue licks a line down the side of your neck, sucking over the point where your pulse beat hotly, and into the crook of your shoulder. You gasp as his teeth sink into the flesh, a nip of pain flaring through you before Sylus soothes the sting with his tongue.

“You taste as delicious as you smell my jewel,” he murmurs sensually, and continues his journey across your body, biting and sucking at your collarbone before resting between your breasts, nuzzling his face into the warmth.

His tail has managed to slip between your legs and the jagged ridges have all smoothed into a streamlined piece of muscle, teasingly moving between your thighs, just high enough for the upper side to rub against your underwear, playing into the wetness that was already starting to gather. You moan at the stimulation, barely enough to even scratch the surface of your raging flames, and hook your leg over Sylus’s hip to give you more access. The thick tail presses into your slit, rhythmically dragging the fabric against your engorged clit as his hands busy themselves undoing the laces at the back of your dress.

You shiver despite the rising heat as the dress falls apart at the back and Sylus drags the garment off over your head, his breath catching as he finally gets his first, unobscured look at you. His eyes rove appreciatively over your body, his blood humming in his veins as he watches your skin become ruddy, the light filtering over it through his wing casting a soft, shadowy glow. Your nipples were perked and hard, your skin smooth and creamy, with little curls of hair poking out from underneath the sides of your panties.

You whimper as the very tip of his tail wedges into the apex of your folds, rubbing the soaked fabric directly onto your clit, sending skitters of electricity through your system. The air seems to become balmy as you breathe, harsh pants leaving you as want grows in your core, the overwhelming need to bite down and mark him back as he’d done for you becoming palpable with each passing second.

Sylus raises a clawed finger and brings it to your mouth, which you obligingly suck, followed by a sharp bite that makes his eyes dilate and brings a grin to his lips. He slowly pulls the digit back, letting it slide between your lips and stroking the wetness onto a nipple, enjoying the way your breath becomes ragged and how your core clenches against his sinful ministrations.

“Sylus…” you whimper, feeling tension curling in the pit of your stomach like a bow that’s been drawn too tight. His only response was a hum, his head dipping down leisurely to capture your other nipple, licking circles on it with the tip of his tongue, not unlike the motions his tail was currently drawing onto your puffy clit. His thumb and forefinger tweak your other hardened peak, pulling and pinching methodically as the moans of your pleasure fill the chamber. Now and then you feel the scrape of his monstrous teeth against the delicate skin of your nipple, just intense enough to bring a small lick of fear into you before you feel the reassuring slip of his tongue.

Your sighs fill your head, body yielding to him, melting against the silken leathery embrace of his wings, eyes closing as the sweetening ache inside you builds. You stir as you feel his tail shift, and your panties are dragged down your legs, exposing your swollen sex. The unexpected feeling of his scales is suddenly made present as his tail lays flat between your folds, wetting itself with your slick and gliding smoothly against your aroused pussy. Your mouth opens to let out a high-pitched whine as the smoothened scales add extra stimuli to your bud, your hips moving with him and seeking out more friction. Sylus finally releases your nipple as he feels your desperate humps, and maneuvers you so that you’re straddling him, body balanced on his tail as it continues to pleasure you.

Your voice keens as your hands splay on his hard chest, the slippery appendage rocking against your clit, feeling the differences in the size of the scales while sliding closer to the base as the dagger-shaped tip tickles your chin. Your mouth instinctively moves to take it, sucking on it pacifyingly to ground yourself as your hips undulate over the rest of the sinew. You boldly glance at Sylus and his eyes are sanguineous, uninhibitedly gazing at the sight of you hot and bothered, seeking carnal satisfaction that he knows only his body can provide.

The end of his tail withdraws from your mouth and teasingly draws back down to your breast, curling around a nipple and squeezing while he maintains the steady movement he knows you crave between your legs. With nothing to muffle your noises, your voice grows steadily louder, echoing off the high walls of the cave as Sylus guides you toward the abyss of gratification.

“My body is yours little one,” Sylus says in a harsh whisper that has your senses on edge. You feel the flutter of his wings as they enfold you again, a little space of privacy where only you and he exist.

“Use me for your pleasure.” His hand cups your cheek and his movements become frenzied, his eyes never leaving yours as he watches you writhe over him, trying to find release.

A soft haze seems to settle around you as your body orgasms. You feel the repetitive little spasms of your clit mirrored in your core as they become longer and more intense, flooding your body with sinful delight as you sob out your need. Your eyes are shut tight, the world becoming an incoherent mix of color and light where nothing is solid except for your mate as he pushes you through your heady climax. Even as your heartbeat turns erratic, you can sense the changes in him too as he scents the salty tang of your relief as your body relaxes. You gasp, steadying yourself as Sylus gently withdraws his tail, letting you collapse on his chest as you try to come back down to earth.

You feel his claws soothingly scratch your back and gratefully nuzzle into his chest before taking a steadying breath and peering over your shoulder at his neglected cocks. They were still standing, colossal and proud, with thick pearlescent beads forming on the tip. The slippery viscous fluid was now being exuded copiously, lubricating the entire length.

You crawl over to them, and Sylus lets out a gasp of surprise as your tongue darts out to taste one, running it over the weeping head. You taste salt on his skin and bob your head down a little lower, taking as much as you can, and Sylus fists the rug, his teeth biting his lower lip as he tries to control the raging urge to take you right there.

Barely able to deepthroat him, you come back up, letting the moistened cock slip out of your lips before you gather both between your hands, squeezing the bases together before sucking both tips back into your mouth. Your jaw stretches wide to accommodate them, only taking him about halfway before coming back up for air. The lubricant covering them was tasteless but aided their path into your mouth and towards the back of your throat. Sylus thrusts into the inviting wetness as he tries not to choke you. You suck playfully, wet noises issuing from your mouth as you do so before Sylus suddenly jerks your head back, strings of spit connecting your lips to both heads.

“Not like this…” His voice is ragged. Swiftly, he flips you onto your back, drawing your ankles to rest on his shoulders as your thighs part for him. Your hole is quivering with anticipation as you feel one of the thick erections probe your entrance.

“Breathe sweetie,” Sylus reminds you, his eyes growing steadily more animalistic as he pushes into you. You gasp at the feeling, then your eyes widen as Sylus gently splits you apart, your folds giving way to his massive proportions. You sniff, tears in your eyes at his size. There was pain along with the pleasure as your walls adjusted to him.

Sylus’s wings gather you close to him, cradling you against his body as he strokes your face, whispering encouragement to you as he continues to sheathe himself into the hot moisture of your cunt. You squirm, the stretch foreign and uncomfortable, unsure what to do.

“Relax my little one. It’s ok.” Sylus kisses away your tears. “Remember we were made for each other. We’re meant to fit.” He halts, nearly fully inside, and your sniffs fade as you slowly adjust to him. Sylus thrusts softly, and you whimper, feeling so full impaled helplessly on his generous size. As he continues those deep strokes, your body seems to easen, the tension trickling away and giving rise to a whole new sensation. Your breath catches as you feel the thick mushroom head kiss your cervix with each stroke, the lower cock slapping against your buttocks with each move. The scales you had been touching earlier dragged smoothly along your inner walls with minimal resistance, flattening every time he pushed in, and erotically stimulating them as he withdrew. Every inch of your sex felt like it was being touched all at once and your eyes close dreamily as you lose yourself to the growing flutters of ecstasy.

The next set of delighted moans are music to his ears and Sylus sensually rolls his hips each time, determined to wring out every tiny noise possible from you. Your face scrunches up in pleasure as he takes you, and somewhere in the back of your mind, you keep thinking about how the second one would feel. Your breasts bounce as he fucks you, and soon you’re breathing his name, hands grasping his forearms as your bodies fuse together.

Sylus sees your eyes glazing over with need, your mind switching to a state where all that mattered was the hedonistic rush of your bodies working together in harmony. He pauses, interrupting his rhythm as he angles his second cock at your entrance.

You moan as you feel it but when Sylus pushes, there’s no resistance, your cunt already sloppy from his previous thrusts. The action puts his upper cock in contact with your Gspot, and your cunt feels wonderfully pliant as you feel both of them working in tandem to bring you to another peak. The added thickness combined with the scales' stimulation on both surfaces brought you to a realm of delight you hadn’t thought was possible as he starts to fuck into you with purpose, certain that you are no longer in pain.

His teeth are gritted as Sylus ruts into you marveling at the tightness of your cunt, how every clench and spasm felt on his dicks, knowing he was responsible for each one. Your combined juices start to pool at the base of his cocks, leaving a sticky ring of arousal. The wet squelch of your cunt fills the air and Sylus sees your folds, still slick from the interaction with his tail and he’s determined to make you lose control another time.

You whine in protest when you feel him halt again and Sylus hushes you as he withdraws his upper dick and lets it sit with a moist plop back between your folds. The runny juices slide down and coat your pussy and you can feel the soft ridged scales now nestled at your most sensitive spot and you realize what he intended to do a second before it happened. With a smooth brush, Sylus buries himself back in your cunt and you feel the tingling stimulation of the scaled ridges sliding through your folds and hitting your clit one after the other. You nearly shriek at the feeling, almost on the border of overstimulation as Sylus sets up a brutal pace, his hips slamming into yours.

Your face screws up and your eyes are squeezed closed as all your pleasure spots are stroked at the same time, your gspot and clit pulsing wetly. Sylus growls, his body pistoning in hot need as he chases his orgasm, seeking release. Your entire being feels like it’s slipping away, your cries of delight the only thing that can be heard.

“Cum for me my love,” Sylus says brokenly, breathless and enraptured at the way you look, his legs shaking from the effort of controlling his climax before you had yours. Your body arches off the rug to feel the slick push of his cock and scales at a different angle and your toes curl as you finally let go and orgasm for the second time. It robs you of your thoughts, little brushes from the spikes continuing to push through every tremor you feel as the hot waves of gratification flood your system.

Sylus’s hips stutter as he feels your walls fluttering around him, and lets out a feral roar as his climax hits him, his balls tightening up in urgent release and they spill their load. His abdomen clenches, his breathing rough as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. You hold onto him as you feel each spasm of his cocks both inside and out, one filling your walls with thick jets of his seed, the other dripping his hot, sticky cum onto your clit, mixing with your fluids as it drips messily into your slit, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

It takes a while for him to recover, nestling against you, and you’re content to feel his weight on your body as you stroke his hair. After a period of silence Sylus hums and rolls you over so that you’re on top of him. The action dislodges his cock from your channel and you quickly clench your hole closed, determined to keep all of him inside you, even though your folds are dripping from his essence and leaking onto him.

“Mine…” he purrs as he noses your neck and you smile at him, brushing his cheeks with your thumb. A deep sense of belonging and satisfaction courses through both of you as you lay together in the afterglow of your courtship.

“Rest for now kitten.” Sylus’s eyes are heavy with sleep as he cradles you on his chest. Your body felt wonderfully achy from your lovemaking.

“I hope the hatchlings look like you,” he murmurs tiredly, and you blink as your ability to process starts coming back to you.

“Hatchlings?”

“That’s what we call our young.” Sylus tenderly cups your cheek and kisses you. “I’ll be certain to fill you a few more times to ensure it happens.”

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