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asvterias · 26 days

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𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟣: 𝖧𝖾𝗂𝗋𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖣𝗋𝖺𝗀𝗈𝗇

the cast // series masterlist

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Canon-Divergence, Targ!Cest, Implied Mentions of Same-Sex Romantic Relationships, Flirty Undertones, Some Slight Foreshadowing & Typical-Period Homophobia

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Teen!Rhaenyra Targaryen ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader, Teen!Alicent Hightower ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader, (Brief) Platonic!Ser Harrold Westerling ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader ✘ Teen!Rhaenyra Targaryen, Platonic!Queen Aemma ✘ Fem!Velaryon!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Dragonrides across King’s Landing is enjoyable as one might think, especially when The Realm’s Delight urges her Lady Y/N to tag along. The female Targaryen royals; Princess Rhaneyra and Queen Aemma seem to admire a certain Velaryon girl, wishing to seek comfort and reassurance for very different reasons.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k+

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @username23345 @fae-the-wanderer @hippivanhan34 @harjasblog @feyresqueen @ithemaduh @poopietomuch @starless-nightz @yelenaslyubov @chittakii @laiahernandeeezzz @flowerluzx

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Okay, my first chapter is done, tell me how you like it so far! Sorry for the delay, I was putting some finishing touches. If you wanna be tagged in this book, comment below and say ‘future tag’! Also go check out my tiktok page @/localgirlie, where I post videos relating to this fanfic!

🌊 ✘ 🔥

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟣

𝖲𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖮𝗇𝖾: 𝖤𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝖮𝗇𝖾

𝟏𝟏𝟏 𝐀𝐂

𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘨’𝘴 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨

••••

Lady Y/N of House Velaryon and Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, close cousins, and dear best friends, constantly updating each other about their lives. They’d known each other since the many years of childhood and had always been close.

Due to the close friendship between your mothers and political matters between your fathers, your handmaiden always packed an overnight bag whenever your parents decided to visit The Red Keep.

It was a splendid day to ride your dragon, Silverwing, out in the fresh air above the city skies. Simply for the fun, certainly not to convince your dear cousin Rhaenyra to finish her joyride and return to her princess duties.

Were you filled with outright urgency to have her back on the ground? Nope.

Regardless of your numerous attempts, it would have all been worth futile. Rhaenyra didn’t have a care in the world, sparing no expense to those around her. She lived in the moment alone, not doubting what could have been.

Not only was The Small Council hosting a discussion at this very moment but you were late. It would be noticeable the two teenage girls’ absences from the men’s council, wasting no chance to nitpick on the delay. Certainly not to your faces, they’ll be chastising the princess and her dearest Lady to the King himself. No one dared to defile Princess Rhaenyra or Lady Y/N, for the consequences were always quite fatal.

To secretly scrutinize the dragons was one thing but to blatantly insult the dragons was another danger in itself. Best to keep your humble opinion lingering around in your mind if you are smart enough to do so.

So, no you weren’t hurriedly urging the princess to return back to The Red Keep, for the sake of your status. Or the higher sake of hers as a Targaryen princess.

Instead, you allow her to enjoy herself, she requires a breather, and time to develop the recurring sense of another sibling being born. The Royal Targaryen family of three all had anticipated another child as Rhaenyra preferred a baby sister yet held no indifference to the unborn child’s gender.

Soaring and flying through the calm winds, you breathed in the fresh air, enjoying the nostalgic feeling. Going on dragonback was your favorite pastime alongside Rhaenyra, it was no secret nor have you considered it as such.

Allowing the wind to pass through your silver hair as Silverwing released occasional roars, whizzing above the commoners who stopped to glance. No view from below could compare to the ones over the clouds. Every dragonride spent with Silverwing further proved that the beast was displayed in complete adoration whenever you visited her.

You reminded her of her former rider, your great-grandmother Queen Alysanne, whereas she claimed you as her next rider.

The sight was for sore eyes, two female dragons and their female riders, content with each other’s company.

While Syrax was a carefree dragon, Silverwing was quick-witted with her movements. The mother-daughter dragon pair loved their time spent together, often skimming through the high skies and feasting on their well-prepared livestock.

You laughed, pulling onto the reins to control Silverwing’s sharp dodges made against Syrax.

“Would you slow down? It’s not a competition!” You laughed, the grip on your reins firm.

“It is to me!” She shouts back, turning around to face you, her silver hair flowing in the thick wind. You fought back an urge to roll your eyes as Rhaenyra smiled at your acceptance of her unsuspecting victory.

“We should head back to King’s Landing. Isn’t Alicent waiting for us?” You yelled over the sharp gusting winds.

“Yes, she is,”

Once the four of you landed safely on the broken terrace landscape of Dragonpit, you unbuckled your saddle from your waist. You quickly dismounted Silverwing, sliding down from her beautiful wings. As your shoes hit the dirty ground, you run your fingers against her rough scaly skin, gently tracing across it. Silverwing craned her head downward, giving more access to her vulnerable state, cooing as she blinked at you. She purred, shaking her head as you moved to pet her snout.

“My beautiful girl, Silverwing,” You kissed her nose, giggling when she nudged you backward in response. It was a soft shove, barely sending you a few inches away before you immediately embraced her again. She hummed, exhaling roughly, her hot breath radiating onto you.

“Should we leave you two alone?” Rhaenyra teases, sneaking up behind you.

Your interactions were different each time, but so unique in a way. In a way that only you and Rhaneyra could fully comprehend.

In truth, your relationship with the princess was complicated to say the least, typically swerving the line between platonic and romantic love. The Targaryen Princess always held a large role in your heart, but as your age and body progressed, so did your feelings toward her.

But still, you couldn’t openly express your affection for the silver-haired girl, reminded of the period you lived in. Where such love was forbidden and shunned, no one openly hated it but whispering around surely backfired. Then with the consistent whispers follows the judgement alongside the shushed snide remarks. Refusing to condemn yourself to a judgmental life, but once again, you weren’t living based on other’s opinions.

Most of the people who were most likely to talk about you were ranked as handmaidens and other ladies of the court, none of whom had a higher power.

None of those other highborn names were equal to both of your family names. The other common houses owned some land and livestock, but never true power. The real fiery power that House Targaryen solely possessed allied with the blinding sea salt of House Velaryon. Great Valryian houses came with many demands, and luckily you were a combined product of both.

Not when you were a bold Targaryen woman, who reclaimed one of the most notorious dragons.

Therefore, nobody divulged their inquiries about the closeness between the Princess and Lady.

Now, onto Rhaenyra…how could you describe her?

She was truly beyond any simple words to describe her fiery spirit, a true Targaryen woman embodiment, making her even more desirable. Even though she fully understood how her presence affected others, beaming in delight, she’d allow them to swoon over her. Her regal posture and swaying saunter, matched with the stunning outfits she modeled around the castle grounds.

A true princess, indeed.

“Very funny,” You plastered on a fake smile, squinting your eyes.

Silverwing tilted her head at Rhaenyra, almost teasing her to come any closer to you. It wasn’t threatening in any way, just a warm invitation to the reluctant princess. The mother-daughter dragon let out a synchronized shrill of laughter.

Syrax coddled into Rhaenyra’s touch, purring gently, luring the girl into her grasp. The she-dragon had roughly nudged her head against Rhaenyra’s body, basically thrusting her closer toward you, only further signifying true love surrounding the two girls.

Unknowingly to you, the few rushed padded footsteps behind weren’t an over-confident Rhaenyra. Surprisingly, it was a rather shocked and embarrassed princess.

You turned around to be met with an embarrassed Rhaenyra, who tried to keep her cool, failing miserably with each passing second. Her actions made your heart swell in her fondness, eyes twinkling in admiration as she stammered on her forthcoming words.

Making it easier for her, sparing some time to process her thoughts thoroughly. You piped up, tone playfully intriguing.

“Are you embarrassed or flustered, my princess? Or perhaps, both?”

Oh, curse all of Seven Hells! And that switch of sudden formalities sent her brain into overdrive. Yes, everyone else called her princess formally, so it was casual to hear frequently.

But this was coming from you. My princess. She was your princess. You spoke with a clear mixture of elegance and teasing when using formalities on her. It was getting hard for Rhaneyra to control her urges, especially with all these potential witnesses, disguised as workers for the castle. She couldn’t allow you to face dire consequences just for her lack of self-control. Besides, if she truly had the opportunity alone with you, confessions out in the open, this encounter would be very different. All alone in her chambers, with no disturbances, creating an intensified atmosphere, and intimate actions were taken.

During all of your time spent with the princess, she’d never expressed a nerve-wracking emotion such as embarrassment. Even if she hides her embarrassment, your annoying inkling detected it.

It has been a thorn lodged into her side for as long as she knew you. She had hoped that intuition would diminish for your time spent apart. But, sadly, it didn’t, only to flourish and become a source of irritation for the princess.

“Quite frankly, I’m unsure myself.” Rhaenyra maintained a timid voice, struggling to keep eye contact.

You hummed, unconvinced by her staggered voice, supposedly telling the entire truth. “If you say so, princess.”

While Rhaenyra denied your assumptions, Silverwing wasn’t so easily gullible.

However, the older dragon knew the true tension between her rider and the Targaryen princess was more than platonic. Not that the two teenage girls didn’t have anyone else fooled by their closeness. Others had keen eyes, their suspicions being proved right but didn’t dare speak up. Unless they wanted to be met with the terrifying fate of an open dragon’s mouth and the horrid spewing fire following after.

If given the chance, Rhaenyra would protect you, from bold smallfolk stating such accusatory titles unfit for a young princess having close relations with another female, more necessary what meets the eye. The young Targaryen princess would even go against her father’s strict orders, acting out if it regarded you.

How could she not? Especially when you meant so much to her.

Other than that, Rhaenyra would portray the bold daughter of Queen Aemma and King Viserys, the dutiful princess of the smallfolk, and more importantly, The Realm’s Delight, granted by all of the kingdoms to speak upon.

To fall prey to a man’s heart was deemed normal, an acceptance into society. Many people would congratulate the newlywed couple, praying blessings on future children and a great household. God forbid if a woman falls in love with another woman, then it’s considered improper, disgusting behavior.

But being a royal means your love and desire is not your own, but simply a piece of a board game called ‘The Targaryen Dynasty’. Most of the time, it’s unfair, depending on the compatibility of the betrothed or the dedication to developing a certain arrangement that pleases both spouses.

Being a Targaryen meant valuing your duty more than anything. Many gain the demanded power, the dragon blood coursing through their veins, and the ability to claim a worthy dragon.

Targaryens never made their living peaceful, well…some of them thrived on wars rather than peace. Even for one of the greatest houses, nothing else can create its downfall other than House Targaryen itself. Their dangerous dragons were a vital and powerful force. After all, it’s the very symbol used to describe Targaryens and their ascension to royalty.

Death. Dragons. Destruction. That’s all most people think about upon hearing the sacred name of ‘Targaryen’ whispering among many lips.

Is it better to be feared than adored? Would you gain support from genuine love or unwavering fear?

Eventually, Rhaenyra broke out of her trance, embarrassment tinting her cheeks once again.

“Did I break you?” You asked meekly, reaching out a hand for comfort. Stopped yourself halfway, unsure if Rhaenyra would accept it, and retracted your hand. Removing your black leather gloves and anxiously smoothing out your all-black rider’s outfit.

Confusion was laced on her face, eyebrows creased, “What? What do you mean?”

“You’ve never spoken with such shyness, you’re always bold and honest. Embarrassment is not also a common feature of yours.”

“I’ve never seen someone so smitten with their dragon,” Changing the subject was Rhaenyra’s best ideal option at the moment.

What else would she do? Further, embarrass herself in front of you? Gods, no, she had a reputation to uphold, not to wither away by your mere easygoing presence and gentle words. No matter how much of a cocky temptress you proved to be.

She stood a few feet behind you, weary of the older dragon’s sharp gaze. It was obvious Rhaenyra was embarrassed by her sudden fear of your dragon when she had been nothing more than kind to Silverwing.

After all, Silverwing was the most docile creature in the entirety of King’s Landing, maybe in all of the Seven Kingdoms. It made no sense why Silverwing immediately became annoyed by Rhaenyra’s presence.

Very anxiously, Rhaenyra waited for an answer, her body becoming tense and rigid, hoping you’d go along with it.

“Good news, now you have.” You retorted with a huff, oblivious to the obvious relieved look passing onto Rhaenyra’s face.

“Should you call Silverwing your beautiful girl, it’s a little too endearing for a dragon, is it not?”

The princess slowly stepped forward, losing her temporary fear of Silverwing, approaching you.

“Would you prefer I call you, my beautiful girl, princess?” You teased, maintaining her gaze while giving your dragon one last pet on her snout as she softly shook her head at the gentle touch. The Velaryon girl turned to her lovely dragon with a raised brow, “I think she would rather, Silverwing.”

Much to Rhaenyra’s dismay and slight surprise, the dragon nodded at your statement, glancing at the princess. Silverwing slowly opened her mouth, baring her many rows of teeth, displaying a similar action to a small taunting smile aimed at your dear cousin.

Only an amused chuckle left your mouth at Rhaenyra’s bewilderment. It was not often witnessing Rhaenyra being rendered speechless, only fueling your teasing.

“You’re not disagreeing, my princess. If there’s something you wish to inform me on, now’s the time for it.”

“No! I- I never said that, you implied that!” She argued, stammering over her own words, allowing the embarrassment to soak into her features. Any attempt of feigning indifference was now diminished, your cousin was aware.

Not that she’d like to admit, your simple words or gestures made her flustered. She felt absolutely embarrassed to be this flustered over a measly few phrases and bypassing touches.

Raising an eyebrow in confidence, you continued, “I wouldn’t be against it at all. For once in your life, you have to plead a little for good measure.” You grinned, “Would the Princess be considerate to begging for her own sake?”

In an instant, Rhaenyra blushed, an obvious shade of crimson red decorated her cheeks, and an overwhelming smile crept on her face. She tried to suppress it by straightening her relaxed composure or darting her eyes elsewhere.

No matter how she reacted, it was no use at all. You caught onto her movements quicker than anyone else could. Weirdly enough, Rhaenyra liked how easily you have her figured out every time without even trying.

Rhaenyra removed her gloves, giddy to focus on another task than maintaining your intense concentration. As small as it was, she was internally grateful for the little distraction. It was helping her cheeks to return to their normal skin tone, all porcelain with the distinctive Targaryen facial features.

“We should go, you’re delaying us even further.”

“Whose fault is that in the first place? It’s definitely not mine.”

She scoffed, ignoring your statement, retreating to the carriage. Of course, you were right, but the princess always had to have the last word. You knew it and she knew it. It was one of her many admirable traits you loved about your cousin, her unwillingness to back down from an argument even if she’s in the wrong.

“Welcome back, Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Y/N,” Ser Harrold greets, prompted high on his horse, “I trust your rides were pleasant,”

“Try not to look too relieved, ser.”

“I am relieved,” He admitted, “Every time that golden beast brings you back unspoiled. It saves my head from a spike,”

“You mustn’t worry too much about the princess, Ser. She can handle herself.” You replied with a fond smile.

“As can you, Lady Y/N.” He gave you a firm head nod.

Deciding to skip ahead of you, Rhaenyra approached your other friend, Lady Alicent, who was standing by the carriage. You chuckled at her flustered state, catching up to your cousin. Smiling ahead at Alicent, propped on the little carriage steps.

“How were the dragonrides?” Was the first thing to leave Alicent’s mouth with a shy soft smile.

Her eyes squinted in confusion, scanning Rhaenyra’s flushed cheeks, red as ever, making it very hard to ignore. The auburn girl leans closer to the princess, further analyzing the red tint of blush, and whispers to her. “What’s wrong with your face?” Her whisper was low, almost inaudible. So low, that you were unable to hear, despite you straining your ears to intently listen. Alicent was a soft-spoken girl so her voice volume was always at a minimum, having the ultimate advantage of blocking out gossipers.

“I’m fine,” Rhaenyra mumbled, swatting her friend’s hand away, shifting her attention elsewhere. Just avoid making eye contact with you. Everywhere but your piercing gaze that can immediately unravel her true feelings.

Alicent nodded, brushing over her flustered state, deeming it to the weather. The heat from the sun surely brought the redness to her cheeks, nothing else. Alicent had so naively claimed and stuck with it.

“Syrax is growing quickly,” Alicent commented, glancing at the golden dragon, who was intently watching the trio of girls interact. Silverwing has already been guided by the dragonkeepers into the dragon pit. Once you dismount her, Silverwing will disappear, your presence no longer beside her.

“She’ll soon be as large as Caraxes,”

Rhaenyra cleared her throat, the shy timidness in her voice replaced by her regular brazen tone.

“That’s almost large enough to saddle two,” Rhaenyra suggests, implying a future new rider for Syrax; Alicent, if she’s willing to experience the terrifying thrill.

“I believe I’m quite content as a spectator, thank you.” Alicent lifted the bottom of her dress, turned around, and entered the carriage. “For the both of you two, yes Syrax and Silverwing are beautiful, but I will not fly on their backs. I very much prefer to remain on ground level at all times.”

You nudged Rhaenyra’s shoulder, sending her a sly smile, venturing upon the little carriage steps. As expected, the princess kept her intense gaze trained on you, never diverging or faltering, not once.

To her, you were a stunning young woman. You flawlessly completed all the qualifications of marriage into a royal family.

If she were a man, her courtship would already pass, the wedding festivities between you two joyous as ever and the consummation would be passionate and meaningful.

If she were a man, she could do as she pleased, roam around the city whenever. Everything would be at her disposal and would receive little to no consequence. A life without consequences seemed entertaining enough.

But she was not a man. She couldn’t pursue an open romantic relationship with you. She could never court you nor she shouldn’t dream of marrying you. You are both women and couldn’t be thriving wives in a loving marriage.

Your movements halted midway onto the carriage steps, pausing and turning around at the other silver-haired girl.

“Are you to stare at me all day, my princess? If you find me breathtaking, there’s no shame in saying it.” You taunted her, your skirt slightly swaying in the wind.

The familiar flush on her cheeks returned, causing it to be more noticeable, realizing her gaze set upon you was longer than necessary.

Or maybe she was just confused. Did she really like you or were you just a mere distraction? Only until her Uncle Daemon’s sudden secret visits made an expectation.

“What controls your mind with such deep thoughts, princess?”

“Nothing of importance.”

“Your eyes fog over when you highly adore the thoughts running wild in your mind. Surely, it is of much importance.”

“How do you know that?”

“Your mimics?”

“Yes exactly,”

“Years of practice, your attitude stayed intact but your body language seems to defer from you. It’s very detectable when your mood changes.”

“Don’t you have nothing better to do with your time and energy?”

“I would if a certain princess should lessen her time spent with me. Now, I call that being observant.”

“That’s not what I call it.”

“What do you call it then?”

“You’ll never know anytime soon, will you?”

“For now. Your needs and inquiries are often fulfilled by me.”

“When you speak in that manner, you speak as if we’re romantically involved.”

“Should they not be? Who knows what will happen in the future?”

Your tone was insinuating, letting on more than Rhaenyra desperately needed to know. Her heart sped up and the blood coursing through her veins began to heat up.

Why must you be relentless when teasing her?

She swears your intentions are purely cruel when regarding her. Yet, she doesn’t demand answers from you, unless she’s truly too inquisitive.

“I beg your pardon, Lady Y/N.” Her statement was meant to be brazenly sharp, but the delivery was timidly startled. The purpose of her intended delivery and actual response didn’t seem to be conceded correctly. She muttered, cursing in High Valryian at her stupidity.

“My tongue has a mind of its own, princess. I hope you haven’t forgotten that.”

“Don’t apologize, I find it quite endearing hearing your thoughts out loud.”

“Perhaps if you like listening to my thoughts, I have something more intriguing to share.”

“Tell me, as your princess I command.”

“Okay, princess.” You huffed, a small grin gracing your face, taking a seat in the carriage. “We’re already late to the King’s council and we both smell of dragonback because someone wanted to go on a joyride.”

She groaned, walking up the small steps and into the carriage, sliding beside Alicent. The Velaryon girl was sitting across from her, merely an arm’s length away.

“And someone else agreed to accompany them on that joyride,” A footman closed the carriage door behind Rhaenyra.

“If I didn’t, you’d force me to go.”

With the horses’ hooves clicking against the dirty ground, the carriage started its journey back to King’s Landing.

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.” Rhaenyra clicked her tongue, tilting her head slightly. You shake your head, chewing on your bottom lip, holding Rhaenyra’s gaze. Her gaze shifted to the auburn girl, gulping down any growing desire, ridding her mind of impure thoughts while clearing her throat. “Tell us Alicent, why do you refuse to go on a dragon ride?”

“Alicent is too afraid of heights…it’s a common fear, one that I had developed not long ago,”

“See you understand, Y/N. I don’t see why Rhaenyra can’t do the same,”

“If you’re not up for the challenge, Alicent, just say so.” Rhaenyra smirked, “There’s no use beating around the bush.”

“You’re quite difficult at times, princess, are you aware of that?”

“You never make me forget so I’m obligated to prove it even more,”

“Oh, the Realm’s Delight at her finest moments,” You chuckled, glimpsing at your well-trimmed nails.

“Aren’t all my moments my finest ones, Y/N?”

“Maybe so,”

The carriage ride to The Red Keep was relatively a long one, but a relaxing one at that. While you kept your gaze out the carriage window, unknowingly Rhaenyra had her eyes intently focused on you, studying each facial feature perfectly.

The princess thought she was smart, thinking you were unaware of her lovesick staring but you were highly aware. You fought back a wicked grin, a hand resting underneath your chin as the silence overtook the carriage. It was best to not confess that the princess was admiring you, not so subtly either since Alicent caught on to Rhaenyra’s longing gaze. Her eyes followed Rhaenyra’s own, brows furrowed in confusion as she observed the silent connection.

So much palpable tension wafting in a royal carriage, yet so few words were exchanged.

But there was a certain glint in Rhaenyra’s eyes that exceeded beyond a platonic relationship. It was almost as if she was yearning for your touch, craving to hear those teasing remarks and desperate for even the slightest bit of attention. Safe to say, Rhaenyra, herself, didn’t understand these new feelings sparking within. Of course, this certain feeling wasn’t unfamiliar to the princess whatsoever, but a recurring one.

Unsure of these newfound recurring feelings for the Velaryon girl, she loomed her heart in denial, obtaining a different interest. Her uncle Daemon was another pursuit she often indulged herself in.

Did she harbor romantic affection for her Uncle Daemon? Or did she share them with her beloved cousin, Y/N?

••••

Now inside the castle gates, the trio of girls kept their arms looped together, the Velaryon teenager in the middle, giggling as you sullied the halls.

You rounded up the stairs, venturing closer to Queen Aemma’s birthing chambers. Finally entering the room, filled with busy maids scurrying around, continuing their daily tasks, attending to the Queen.

“Oh, Rhaenyra,” Queen Aemma rejoiced, fanning herself to keep cool. It was a hot strenuous morning, dousing everyone in sweat.“You know I don’t like you to go flying when I’m in this condition.”

“You don’t like me to go flying while you’re in any condition,”

“Your grace,” Alicent acknowledged her friend’s mother with a small smile.

“Good morrow, Lady Y/N and Lady Alicent,”

“Good morrow, Queen Aemma,”

“Believe me, Queen Aemma, I tried to stop her, but she’s stubborn.”

“She joined me, Mother,” Rhaenyra interjects with an eye roll, taking a seat before her exhausted mother.

“Only because she forced me!”

“False accusations. Is there anyone to vouch for your claims?” She asks, sharing a skeptical glance with the other highborn women, none objecting.

A sense of pride overtakes the princess’s facial features, ignoring the pointed gaze sent her way from you.

The Targaryen princess smiles in gaining another victory, “My point stands corrected,”

“Your point stands unfair.”

“Same thing.”

“No, but I’m one of the only people you’ll listen to.”

“That’s not a privilege most people can claim for, especially from a princess. You should be honored, tasked with such a great deal,” Rhaneyra firmly nods.

“Honoured, perhaps. Dealing with you frequently is a bigger burden than anyone else can handle,”

“Oh, so I’m a burden now?” The Princess raises her eyebrows.

“Don’t let it get to your head, my princess.”

You chuckled, venturing closer to the Targaryen women, settling right beside Rhaenyra.

“I’d like to believe that you’re in way over your head,” She turned her head slightly, eyes trained on your small movements.

“Believe what you must, my princess. You’ll still love me regardless.”

“Yes, I always will,” She mumbles to herself, glancing down at her lap before lifting her head.

“Did you sleep, your grace?” You asked the Queen.

“I slept.”

“How long?” Rhaenyra interrogates her mother.

“I don’t need mothering, Rhaenyra.”

“Well, here you are, surrounded by attendants all focused on the babe. Someone has to attend to you.”

At her daughter’s statement, The Queen remains silent, almost contemplating how to further proceed with the conversation.

She hits her foot on Rhaenyra’s dress, “You will lie in this bed, soon enough Rhaenyra. This discomfort is how we serve the realm.”

“Do you agree, Y/N? That women should be made to squeeze out children and nothing more?”

“Leave me out of this, she’s your mother and I’m not going against your mother. You’re on your own.”

Rhaenyra rolls her eyes at you, refocusing her gaze onto her mother.

How convenient must you be when siding with her mother instead of her?

“I’d rather serve as a knight and ride to battle and glory.”

The Queen laughs at her daughter’s comment, finding amusement in her words.

“We have royal wombs, you and I. The childbed is our battlefield. We must learn to face it with a stiff lip.” The older Targaryen woman solemnly informs, both tone and expression filled with sorrow.

For a moment, Rhaenyra wondered about her future as a grown woman. Marriage and children ultimately occur later, mindlessly staring out at the window. She spares a glance your way, dread filling her mind with the mere thought of you being married off to a dense lord and swollen with his heirs. The thought creeping into her mind caused a grimace to appear on her face.

Not only would you forget about her, you’ll be leaving her in these castle walls. The very castle that you both grew up in. Many memories wandered passed these castle corridors, some rare ones too. By Rhaenyra’s remembrance, you lived in the Red Keep longer than Driftmark with your family.

All she wanted was for you, her and Alicent to remain unmarried and childless.

Is that so much to ask for? Apparently in this society, where men ruled the world, unfortunately, it was too much to ask for.

For once, women couldn’t be bound to marriage and be viewed as an incubator for their husbands. Taught to raise their children and care for the household. Knowledge was limited to women and men made sure of it. Only the Septas and highborn women gained the luxury of knowledge and owning a dozen historian books.

You sent your friend a tight-lipped smile, strumming your fingers against the fabric of the chair, watching as her attention redirected back to her mother.

“Now take a bath, you stink of dragon.” The Queen shoots you a teasing grin, “The both of you,”

“Together, your grace?” You jested, raising an eyebrow, moving closer to your cousin. That little gasp coming out of Rhaenyra’s mouth went by unheard. “I’m sure Rhaenyra would love that, wouldn’t you?” Your eyes met hers, enjoying the dilation in her brown eyes expanding to the very core.

“Hmmm….I reckon so. Would you like that, dear daughter?” Queen Aemma joined in on the teasing of her only daughter.

“Doesn’t matter what I want.”

“Yet you’re still dodging the question.” Your tongue clicked against your mouth at her reluctance to admit the plain truth.

The silver-haired princess chuckles, standing up from the small chair, ready to take her leave with Alicent.

“Will I get an answer or not?”

“Leave you guessing, that’s my way of things.”

“You’re a minx, princess.”

“Careful of the words you speak, I could have your tongue cut off for that.”

“You could but you wouldn’t.” You stepped forward, slow but subtle pace.

“Are you so sure?”

“Yes, I am.”

“You must think highly of yourself.”

“When a princess is righteously spoiling me, what mindset must I inherit?”

“An indifferent one.”

“So if I did that, you’d go overboard with the luxurious gifts, yes?”

“Things would take a different approach, I agree.”

“If anything, this is your doing, princess.”

“Is that so?”

You hummed in agreement, relishing your little banter. So ever as the innocent bystander, Alicent smiled at the interaction, and Rhaenyra tilted her head, brown eyes twinkling with fondness.

“I should have you know–“

“Stay behind Y/N, I seek your kind words.” Queen Aemma interrupts her daughter’s statement, knowing that conversation sparked much undeniable tension and Rhaenyra had little restraint.

The silver-haired princess, already standing, complied with her mother’s wishes, approaching the Hightower girl.

“Very well, I’ll talk to Alicent in the meantime,” Your cousin loops her arms around your friend and they leave the chambers.

“So, how the pregnancy’s treating you, your grace?” You seated yourself in the latter chair.

“To put it into short words, not very good. I fear I may not survive this one.”

“Oh well…” You frowned, glancing at her swollen belly. Queen Aemma was frightened, for herself and the developing babe. Your observations are keen and clever, nothing can get past you so there was no sense of hiding it. Evidently, her movements were just as predicted, her tense posture rolling on her emotions, her forehead creased heavily in frustration and her hand softly clutching her swollen belly.

After Rhaenyra, all of the Queen’s pregnancies were taken by baby boys and it was stressful, to say the least. According to Queen Aemma, the birthing pains were devastating but the grieving pains were far more excruciating.

You hoped to never experience the pain that The Queen succumbed to as Rhaneyra secretly made a vow to never produce heirs, for her own safety.

Sadly, none of the babes survived the birth or even endured the 9-month term as required. For a while, Queen Aemma gave up on birthing her husband any more children, for the sake of her health and well-being. Yet, she still attempted again and again, risking her health, bound by her marital duty, to fulfill the King’s need for a son, a male heir. Rhaenyra witnessed the toll it took on her weary mother, exhausted and desperate to provide a son for The Seven Kingdoms but her efforts were all in vain.

Seeing The Queen’s hopeful spirit vanish with each passing baby was too unbearable to watch.

Of course, this only further increased your worries, despite you not trying to show it, but the entire ordeal was beyond any control.

“Doubt is a common thing, but we shouldn’t let it cloud our perspective. We should have hope, maybe the gods might bless us and finally give the King a son, so you can stop suffering from pregnancies. I don’t even want to think, the outcome if we were to lose you, the effect it’d have on Rhaenyra….”

“My dear, you shan’t worry about the possibilities, it’s not your concern,” She places a hand on top of yours, squeezing the soft flesh. “And there’s something else you should know…”

“What is it, your grace? Shall I fetch for a chambermaid?”

“No, no, I’m fine, leave the chambermaids to their duties.”

“Then, what else might you inquire, your grace?”

“You never fall short of telling me the truth,”

“Of course,”

“So tell me the whole of it.”

“Your grace, please don’t mistake me as a deceitful girl. I’m nothing of the sort.” You reassured the older woman.

She nodded, appreciating your kind reassurance to ease any impending doubts lingering in her mind.

“If you harbor romantic feelings for my daughter in any way, you have my full blessing,”

“Excuse me, my queen?”

“Y/N rest assured I hold no ill feelings towards you nor is this an attempt of mockery,”

“You’re giving me a blessing over something that hasn’t come to pass yet?”

“Only time will tell,”

“So you’re hoping that me and Rhaenyra share affection for each other?“

“It may be now or years from now. All I know is that your relationship with Rhaenyra goes way beyond platonic.”

“What you’re implying is far-fetched, your grace.”

Somehow, you refused to believe her words, choosing to keep your hopes at a bare minimum. It was the best default option for you. As a result of either decision that occurs, you will remain neutral and hold no resentment towards Rhaenyra, your friendship overruling unrequited love. You intend to move past the eventual rejection or surprising acceptance, your heart lies in Rhaenyra’s words.

“Is it? I doubt that. I’ve seen the way my daughter looks at you, simply as you hold the moon and stars for her. As if only the two of you exist in this world and your bond is unbreakable. The love you share for one another is unconditional in so many ways.”

“My queen, since when are you so poetic with words? If I didn’t know any better, you sound more invested in this relationship than me.”

“I’m only invested because I know it’s true.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Instead of replying to your statement, she changes the entire conversation.

“Run along, now, Rhaenyra needs her partner in crime, and Alicent shouldn’t be led astray because of the princess.”

“Your grace, are you purposely dodging my question?”

She tutted you, shaking her head, “No I’m not, just delaying it, there’s a difference.”

“You amuse me, my queen.”

“Where do you think Rhaneyra got her humor from? Certainly not from her father.”

“Well wishes on your pregnancy, your grace. I truly hope the labors and recovery goes smoothly.”

“You’re not the only one.” She chuckles, dismissing you with the shoo of her hand. “Stop fretting about me and go find Rhaenyra. God knows, what will happen without you in her presence.”

“Plenty of mischief rooted from boredom, and ultimately more added stress to The King.”

“Go find her before she does.”

“So, I’m the princess’s protector, now?”

“Much more to her.”

“You have no regard for the peering ears or eyes, your grace? The maids or guards might overhear us and start rumors.”

“What will they do? They have no real power or authority to stand on because they all rely on the mere gossip of others, especially a royal family at that.”

“I see where Rhaneyra gets her resilience from, no doubt about it.”

“Hush now, I’m the Queen, they know to keep quiet about certain issues if they wish to remain employed.”

“Are you certain, your grace?” Hesitant crept onto your expression and you couldn’t bother concealing it.

“Yes, now stop being such a worrywart, it’s a horrible look for a Lady. Run along, for real this time.” She gestured her hand out to the chamber’s doors.

A faint smile carved at her lips, sensing the hesitation in your movements. Still, you ignored the slight hesitancy in your mind, getting ready to take your leave.

“I’ll see if I can visit you tomorrow before the tournament, your grace.”

“Until then, I’ll see you.”

At her command, you politely curtsied and left the chambers, searching for the rebellious princess. Besides, the princess couldn’t have gotten too far, especially with Alicent accompanying her, the girls would be easy to find.

••••

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

#her fiery fate series #rhaneyra targaryen #emma darcy #rhaenyra targaryen series #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x fem!reader #rhaenyra targaryen x black!reader #rhaenyra targaryen x black!fem!reader #y/n velaryon #velaryon!reader

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a-998h · 4 months

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hi, may I know the reaction of fatui harbingers to the fact that the creator got pregnant from Dottore? 9 months later, she gave birth to a daughter and called her Olivia

I'm changing the name from Oliva to Feodora due to Sneznaya being themed after Russia from the bit of it we have seen, also because I like the name better.

Pregnancy

Two year after you and Dottore's wedding, you started to feel off. You were fatigued, dizzy, and you had killer headaches. At first they thought you just got sick, which sent them all into a panic. Dottore checked you over and you seemed physically fine. But things turned frighting when you messed your period, you start to panic. Dottore cheks you over and then does some math, as he realizes something. One pregnancy test and examination later, you're now discovered to not only be pregnant but you're also 3 months pregnant.

Que the panicking from both of you, mostly you. You both wanted kids, and you were right in the danger zone. Also, you now have to tell a group of people who love you, but hate Dottore, that he got you pregnant. So, you two come up with a solution, don't tell anyone until you're out of the danger zone.

So, you did. It helped you weren't showing yet. But now that you were out of the danger zone, and you had to tell the other Harbingers.

The other Harbingers have been norice how off you and Dottore have been acting. You've been having mood swings, when Childe made you favorite dish you frowned and didn't eat it, and other strange behaviors. Pulcinella was worried so he was going to organize a meeting with you, then he was told that you and Dottore wanted to meet with with them all.

"We have something to tell you," You begin.

"You're a getting a divorce?" Sandrone asks.

"What, no!" You exclaim.

"Then why are we here?" Arlecchino asks.

"I'm pregnant," you say.

There is a deafing silence in the room, and then Pulcinella gets up, and charges at Dottore. Pulcinella is yelling about how Dottore defiled you.

Once you calm everyone done, and make sure no one kills Dottore, your pregnancy has changed.

Arlecchino would be giving you and Dottore parenting advice and might send you baby toys and blankets from Fontaine. She also buys parenting books for Dottore. She takes you baby shopping in Fontaine, or she does the shopping alone and sends the items to you by mail.

Pulcinella is... conflicted. On the one hand, he is thrilled to be a great grandpa, on the other hand he is not happy that the child is Dottore's. But, he tries his best to help. Makes sure deranged followers leave you alone. He also makes sure you stay safe, your cravings are met, and that you have the best doctor possible. He also reminds Dottore to be a good parent of else.

Pantalone is buying baby and nursery stuff. He also just hands you money for the baby. He will spoil this child when they're born. He buys high quality stuff. Will also take you shopping.

Sandrone is now making dolls for the as yet unborn child. She is also planning to teach the kid how to make robots when they're older. She's more hands off compared to the others because children are kind of a fence in a workshop. She is also supply the nursery with books.

Columbia is so excited. She is being the best future aunt se can. She is the once who plays music for the baby in your belly. Writes down which music the baby "likes" and "dislikes". She will sing and pet your belly. You have to pull her away from your belly, she also complies with your cravings.

Scaramouche is not that happy about it, at first. He's just grumpy and children are loud and annoying. But he warms up to the idea. He can't handle your hormones and modd swings. He sneaks you craving foods. Overall just tries to keep his patience from snapping. He will try and stay away from everything because he has no idea what to do and doesn't want to upset you. He well try his best though. He will keep the crazy followers away from you.

La Signora is so excited. She will definitely has rich aunt vibes. She will also do baby shopping with you. She also helps by making sure you have everything you need. She uses her position as a way to keep people from bothering you. Also makes a list of what foods you can and can't eat, along with what foods you're craving. She is the most helpful and makes sure nothing bad happens to you or the baby.

Capitono is more protective over you now. He knew you were already fragile, but now that you're pregnant... he's in overdrive. Whenever you go anywhere, he's going with you. He is worried anything and everything will hurt you and the baby. Other than being a guard dog, he doesn't really do much.

Childe is uncle material. He is super excited. He will also give childcare advice and he might give you hand me down things from his siblings. Is also one of your scary guard dogs. He wants to make sure you and the baby are safe and healthy.

Pierro is lost. He doesn't know the first thing about raising a baby or pregnant women. The only thing he's good for is keeping the crazy people away from you. He is neutral about all this, cause again, he has no idea how to handle you now.

Timeskip

There was much debate over the baby's name. Dottore wanted Sumeru names, Arlecchino suggested Fontaine names, Childe and Pulcinella suggested Sneznayan names, and La Signora suggested Modstandt names. Eventually, you pick a name... Feodora.

Once Feodora is born, everything turns upside down as you all have to get used to having a baby around.

#genshin fanfic #cult au #sagau #creator!reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x reader #genshin x female reader #genshin x fem!reader #pregnant reader

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mariasparrow · 1 month

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Warriors is Hyrule's successor and Artemis is Hyrule's granddaughter!

So I've been doing some thinking, and I've come to believe that after all the blood, sweat, and tears Hyrule shed for his country, the end result is the prosperous kingdom we see in Hyrule Warriors! And that Artemis is his granddaughter!

I think we have strong evidence for it as well! During Hyrule's second adventure, he reads from a scroll that only a "Great King" could. Zelda II legendary difficulty could be seen, in-universe, as a trial of Hyrule's worthiness to receive Kingship. Which the Downfall Era desperately needs after its Prince was corrupted and his sister cursed.

Through his skill and refusal to give up, Hyrule triumphs over both the monsters and the dark side of his own soul. And he retrieves the Triforce of Courage needed to awaken Aurora (the Sleeping Princess of AoL).

Judging from the kiss she gave him at the end, I'd say she's rather smittened!

(Art by Kikker-Oma for me from Fan Joy July, used with her permission- isn't she great!)

With the Triforce in one hand, his Fae-blood in the other, and Aurora at his side, Hyrule brings his kingdom out of the Downfall and into a new golden age with his power and street smarts. He is called the Fae-King and the Traveling King because he rarely stays in one castle to long -he loves traveling to much, and uses it to help expand Hyrule while Aurora minds court and their kids. She's called the Gentle Queen for bring back the old culture. Hyrule's Fae blood is why faeries are such allies in Warriors Era, in remembrance of their brother.

But of course, evil is lingering. Remember Ganon floating spirit fragments, and how they were locked under heavy duty chains all through out Hyrule Warriors? I'll bet that was Hyrule's attempt to beat his blood curse (TM), and that upon his death, he ordered his body to be split apart and lain to rest in separate locations.

Needless to say, Aurora didn't help with this, she couldn't take it. But she managed the seal to buy time...

Until their granddaughter came of age.

Art belongs to @linkeduniverse

I can't be the only one who thinks Artemis seems a little more...Fae-like than Goddess in Hyrule Warriors. She's wild, bold, hands-on and leads from the front, and has STRONG magic. I like to think a great deal of that comes from her grandfather. Maybe her parents died young, so Artemis was raised by Hyrule and Aurora, who adored her and taught her everything they knew. Aurora taught her music magic, ancient history and legends (and fashion, cause that didn't come from Hyrule). Hyrule taught her battle magic, fencing, and survival skills that come in handy when she's disguised as Sheik (he also taught her his thunder spell). That's how she can do Hyrule's sword beams with her kunai in the game. His pet name for her was "Little Fairy." She adored them right back.

It would be rather poetic, if the granddaughter of the most passive Zelda (but still interesting and one of my favorite!) ends up the most active.

When Artemis saw that Ganon's forces had defiled her grandfather's resting places to retrieve his spirit fragments she was inconsolable...and FURIOUS. She loved her grandparents and vows that evil will not destroy all they suffered and bled to build. She will defend their legacy will all the magic and will power she has. Fortunately, she has her own Hero to help her seal evil right back where it belongs.

#lu hyrule #lu aurora #Hyrule x Aurora #headcanon #lu warriors #lu artemis #Warriors x Artemis #lu #legend of zelda #adventure of link #zelda ii #Let Hyrule have nice things!#loving bride #loving family #three time posting #cleaning it up #no more spelling errors or editing...I hope.

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mechaknight-98 · 5 months

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Unexpected Results (NSFW) Ft Nagyung

Authors note: the only thing unexpected was getting this finished so fast. I'll probably work on Hanni’s story next.

While Arin, and I were heading to the meet she asked me what I thought Jacob would like for his birthday coming up,

"Oh don't worry about that I already got his drinks, food, and present handled," Relieved Arin replied

"Good, I know when you're kept on top of things you overachieve. I just need to remind you,"

"Oh, you never have to remind me of friends. I always show out for them when I can," I replied which made Arin laugh.

“Hey babe can I ask you something?”

Jacob walked into the living room “Sure what is it Naggy?”

"Why did you invite Arin and Daizo? they are so gross" Nagyung whined.

Jacob laughed before "Daizo and Arin are my friends and while they may be "Gross", they are good company"

Nagyung sighed annoyed, "But Jakey they are obsessed with... that what did you call it?"

Jacob raised an eyebrow, "Holy Grail or Fighting Games?"

"The Holy Grail," Nagyung confirmed.

"Oh well yeah. Everyone needs friends who chase the Holy Grail. They show you where you're lacking," Jacob replied

"What?" Nagyung responded confused,

"Chasing the Holy Grail means chasing the impossible, both Arin and Daizo have impossibly large goals, which is probably why they work so well together, but I digress. They are chasing impossible goals for different reasons. For Daizo it is to see how far he can take himself in this world, and for Arin, it's to prove herself." Jacob explained. Nagyung nodded and then replied

"But why can't they be satisfied with what they have? They're successful and have a great love life and careers. What more could they want?" Jacob shrugged as he replied.

"I don't know but since everyone is going to be the late young lady I know what I want...you," Jacob said as he began to fondle his girlfriend's breasts while kissing her. He hated how he loved it whenever she got bratty like this and that her couldn't help himself.

"No babe our friends will be any minute," Nagyung whines.

"Oh babe but you know if you don't want me to fuck you silly then you shouldn't whine so much," Nagyung moaned as Jacob began to blow on her right ear.

Nagyung quivered at the action causing Jacob to swell with pride, "My breath just made you quiver imagine what my tongue could do," He said as he began to trail kisses down her body as he discarded more of her clothing on the way down.

"God you're so sexy," Jacob said as he lowered himself to her crotch removing her pants and panties in one move. Nagyung watched in elation as her boyfriend began to fervently eat her out. it was subtle at first. a consistent swirling of his tongue on her clit before he would dive in and out with his tongue.

"Let me ruin you, babe," Jacob said waiting for Nagyung to give him the green light.

Nagyung moaned at his ministrations before giving in, "Please ruin me," She cooed, and Jacob complied. He started with a very simple figure 8 lick around her clit while slowly thrusting into her pussy properly Nagyung loved the attention but she hated foreplay. She was very much a girl who once she got riled up needed her fucks quick fast and rough. So when she came from his oral she only thing had one thing to say she brought Jacob up to be eye level with her and said,

"Fuck me. Fuck me hard coward," in her aggressive and lusted state she rips Jacob's pants open and begins to beg for a creampie.

"Come on babe, Fill me up full my slutty pussy needs it," As Nagyung whines and begs in her bratty tone she shakes her ass and tits to try and entice Jacob to rail her. It works, and Jacob promptly says,

"Come here my favorite slut." Nagyung moans at the degradation she lived to hear Jacob's mean words to her. Her excitement causes her to pounce on him as she lets him defile her. his thrusts are wild and animalistic just the way Nagyung likes, "God yes fuck me with that monster dick," she says as her cunt stretches to accommodate its favorite guest.

"Jeez Naggy how are you always still so tight?" Jacob asks. Nagyung moans and says

"How are you always still so big,"

"Touche," Jacob responds before giving her time to adjust as he bottoms out inside of her. he begins to thrust with great vigor inside of her. Nagyung moans in ecstasy.

"Stop being such a pussy and rail me with that fat cock of yours," She demands and Jacob picks up the pact. He thrusts deep inside as he gropes her breast. Nagyung moans in elation as Jacob reams her tight cunt, "Yes, Yes, Yes, Fill my pussy." She says. Jacob nearing his end gives her three more intense pumps before unloading his cum inside her Nagyung is elated at being filled and fully satisfied. Jacob is still hungry for another round but the text from Bonsai saying, "We are 12 minutes out" kills that So the couple showers and gets ready to host their company.

As they are finishing up their cleaning Bonsai and Hyeju arrive followed by Tobi and Haseul with Arin and I coming in last.

About 65 minutes later the couple finishing up cooking lunch.

"Wow, you guys finally made it?" Nagyung said smiling. I gave a thumbs up and Bonsai explained how traffic was terrible for some weird reason.

Arin perked up, "It's mostly because of the rain and the impromptu K-pop festival going on in Hongdae."

"Wait really? (Bonsai turns to Haseul) Why wasn't the best group ARTMS invited," Bonsai said

exaggeratedly. Haseul blushed and smiled as Arin and I both suppressed the urge to say "What are you talking about the best is obviously Oh My Girl,"

Bonsai noted our restraint and smiled, "You know it shows that there are still tickets and they're pretty cheap,"

Arin and I looked at each other before we both said "So it's settled We are all going," The group nodded excitedly as we got up and began prepping for the Concert. We all ordered Tickets and then walked to the venue. On the way, Arin grabbed my hand, "What's up?"

"Nothing just showing everyone who you belong to," She said with a possessive smile,

"Are you jealous?"

"No, I am not the Jealous type but what's mine is mine end of story," Arin said smiling. I smiled back before kissing her forehead.

"Blegh. You guys are so gross," Hyeju says as she notices we haven't moved for a bit. Arin rolls her eyes before grabbing my hand and having us catch up to the others.

We arrived at the festival and its insanely lively fantastic atmosphere despite the gloomy weather. Plenty of Alcohol for everyone except Arin, plus me, and several acts we were more than excited to see. We decided to start with H1-Key as they were the next act. (We probably should have gotten food in hindsight but it's not that big a deal.) As H1-Key performed many of their hits Arin and I danced to music, as did our friends (At one point Nagyung was twerking on Jacob which was always hilarious). when the weather dropped to a colder temperature we moved less to conserve heat but still sang along. Arin nestled herself in my jacket to stay warm due to our size difference. After that act, We decided to get food and stopped by the nearby Ramyeon place. We all congregated around a pretty big table which allowed us to stay near our partners but also be in decent positions to talk to everyone.

Arin put her hand in mine as we watched our friends. "So Daizo how much longer are you here for?" Haseul asked.

I looked to Tobi for confirmation he held up the number three letting me know I had three weeks left

"Oh three weeks left," I answered. Subtly I noticed Arin tightening her grip on me. I turn to her and clarify, "I will be back though,"

"Oh, when," Nagyung asked.

"Uh probably in the second half of the year, around September," I replied.

Arin‘s grip softened, and I looked at her before saying, “Don't worry I'll be back,”

After we finished we went back to the festival and enjoyed the rest of the acts.

We got back from the impromptu festival around midnight I want to say, and on the way back to Jacob's place we were stopped by a lady, She stood at the precipe of a crosswalk. She is holding a massive sword and she says,

"If one of you can land a hit on me; I will give you a massive prize." My friends all look at each other and then at me to stop me but I'm already walking to the lady.

“So I just gotta land one hit?” I ask

“Yes,” the lady responds

“Any other rules? Stipulations?” I add

“Nope give it all you got,” the lady says with a pleased smile.

“Okay! Let's do it.” I reply. Arin grabs my hand and says

“Go get em,” I smile and reply

“God I love you,” Arin beams and I turn to the lady. I summon my spell sword and get in a combat-ready stance. The lady smiles before taking out a needle and syringe. She injects herself and I watch as her eyes begin to glow. I stand guard as she also gets ready. I blink and in an instant, she is at my throat. I block her blade and disarm her by throwing both our blades away.

Taking advantage of her staggered and uneven stance I grapple her and throw her to the ground. As she lands I get one quick strike to her arm. She smiles,

“A thief with honor.” the lady says as I help her up. I notice her skin is a magenta color and she only has one eye. She smiles at me before saying, “Congratulations,” and everything goes dark.

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #male reader #fromis 9 #nagyung smut #fromis9 nagyung

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 1 year

Text

𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓮 - Aemond Targaryen

i got a job so now i don't have any time to write, but i'm still trying to find the time on my days off but all i wanna do is sleep lmao. But here's this, it turned out way longer than it was supposed to be lmao

Summary: After your father betroths you to another lord, your secret lover is livid when he finds out and decides to make you and everyone else see that you will always be his.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), arranged marriage (not to Aemond), possessive!Aemond, period typical misogyny, loss of virginity, slight innocence kink, breeding kink, not so dry humping, very slight dubcon, and noncon exhibitionism (reader is unaware, therefore not able to consent)

word count | 9.4k🤙🏻(oops)

You almost let out a scream when your father told you his “happy” news. You were stunned into silence, frozen in fear but boiling in rage beneath your skin.

Your father informed you that he had found you the perfect match, some old fat lord in the North that would strengthen the bond between your two houses. Of course, it wasn’t your perfect match. It was your father’s. He was always power hungry, but you never thought he’d give you up to a stranger for more wealth. You always thought you were his little girl, precious and untouchable, always the favorite. Oh, how wrong you were.

As fearful as you were for yourself, you couldn’t help but think how terribly your lover would react.

You had been secretly spending time with the second son of the King, prince Aemond. Your father had moved the two of you to King’s Landing after he managed to snag a spot as one of the Master of Coin’s advisors on the small council, allowing you to be in the vicinity of the royal children more often than not. You were quiet, kept to yourself, much like the young prince. You were intimidated by all the royals at first, but most of them welcomed you or were indifferent, which you didn’t mind. You met all the children when you first got to the Red Keep. You liked Helaena, she was kind and open minded, besides the ominous words she often spewed, you thought of her like a sister. Aegon was more so the indifferent one, and Aemond seemed to be as well. Aemond never showed any emotion on his face, so it was hard to get a read on him. When introducing yourself with a curtsy, all he did was nod and let out a hum of acknowledgement. It often felt like he only tolerated you, until he proved otherwise.

You were wandering the halls waiting for your father to get out of a meeting when the elder prince Aegon had cornered you, deep into his drinks and unable to control his urges, begging you to allow him to take you back to his chambers and show you “a good time.” You had always felt a sense of unease around the firstborn son of the king, especially after being warned by the servants that he had a tendency to get handsy, but you always tried to give people the benefit of the doubt, even living in the world you did. Prince Aegon had never tried to seduce you before, so you figured he respected you as the daughter of a member of the small council. Again, you had a habit of being wrong in your opinions.

Aegon had grabbed ahold of your hand and started placing wet kisses on the palm of your hand, trying to pull you with him. But before Aegon could go too far, his younger brother shoved him away from you, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. Aegon immediately backed off, clearly in fear of his brother and drunkenly stumbled down the halls back to his quarters. “I apologize for my brother’s behavior, my lady. I will make sure he does not bother you again.” And that he did. After that day, prince Aegon never even looked in your direction, much less tried to seduce you again. You found prince Aemond in the library the next couple days, thanking him for his help. “I couldn’t bear the thought of a lady as beautiful as yourself getting defiled by the halfwit I’m forced to call my sibling.”

It made your heart flutter.

After that, you found yourself wanting to spend more time with prince Aemond. He was thoughtful, passionate, and surprisingly kind. He was everything the rumors had said he wasn’t. Aloof, bloodthirsty, and cruel, those were the rumors you had heard about the younger prince. Sure, he could be those things towards other people, but never towards people he cared about. You saw how he behaved around his mother, sister and her children, especially with the children. He let his niece and nephew play with his hair, his clothes, anything they could get their stubby little hands on, all while a content smile decorated his face. He was the only one who actually listened to his sister, the only one who treated his mother with the utmost respect. You even caught him joking around with Ser Criston Cole in the training yard one morning. And steadily over time, you become one of the people he cared about.

It was subtle things that made you realize prince Aemond started to care for you. Firstly, he saved you from being assaulted by his brother. Afterwards, he would start to exchange pleasantries whenever you’d see each other, something he did not do to anyone else. At first, you thought that maybe his mother forced him to seek out conversation with you, just out of politeness or for some sort of advantage. But what sort of advantage would the prince have if he befriended you? Over time, the prince would seek you out so often that he couldn’t have been forced to do so, and surely not being as gentlemanly as he was with you when he did. Spending a morning with princess Helaena and the children, your face heated up furiously when she told you in confidence that her brother had a soft spot for you. She had also told you that Aemond might’ve been too gentlemanly, not afraid, but cautious to make the first move.

Back then, you weren’t too worried about your father marrying you off that you felt you could explore a courtship on your own without disapproval. Plus, courting prince Aemond wouldn’t be the worst for your house, if you ever thought that way. You were still a naive girl, never been through many hardships or traumas, you had a rosy view of the world even with all your education. You were an optimist, the thought of taking a chance on prince Aemond didn’t frighten you as much as it should have. You didn’t think of what the repercussions could be if he didn’t reciprocate your attraction, and what his rejection could do to your father’s role on the small council. But it turned out to be the best decision you could ever make.

During a walk with prince Aemond around the Godswood, you decided to bring up your relationship with him. “Besides Helaena, I feel as though you’re my closest friend here.” Your direct statement had briefly taken him by surprise, no one had ever been bold enough to express sincere feelings towards him. Most were too intimidated by him to even look in his direction, but you never seemed scared of him, even when the two of you first met. It was awkward as any first meeting goes, but after that, you were never afraid to look him in the eye and speak freely, despite him being a son of the king.

You were endearing to Aemond, a feeling he had only felt towards his sister and her children. But you were different, he felt a protectiveness over you much like his family, but jealousy had also come with it. Seeing you talk to any other lords or men at court made an uncomfortable pressure form in his chest, a weight that burned and he couldn’t get rid of it no matter how much he tried. That day when he found Aegon practically drooling over you, it took everything Aemond had to not bash his older brother’s face in. Aegon was lucky to get away with just a shove. It troubled Aemond that he yearned to do more, to his brother or any man that gazed upon you salaciously. He felt the need to protect that childlike innocence you still often displayed. When the feelings got too strong, he’d often seek out Helaena to vent and listen to her cryptic advice. Most times, she’ll just giggle, which wasn’t helpful but he was just thankful his frustrated venting didn’t disturb her.

So when you revealed that his sister may have fibbed about his secret affection for you, he had half a mind to storm into her chambers and tell her off angrily, even though he’d never do that to her. But he did feel embarrassed, his face flushing a dusty red. He froze when you took a step closer to him, your natural warmth radiating off your body and onto his, your eyes looking up at him with a familiar expression. He often saw a similar look on Aegon or the whores on the Street of Silk, but it didn’t disgust him now when that particular look was on your face. In fact, he couldn’t look away. You looked between his eye and his lips, wetting your own and raising yourself up on your toes so your face was level with his, a delicate hand holding onto his shoulder for support. He didn’t move, wanting to see how far you would take it, your behavior already proving unbecoming of a lady. Though, he couldn’t help the way his eyelid became heavy with lust as your lips got closer and closer to his.

Disappointment rushed through Aemond as you kissed his cheek, leaving his lips tingling and yearning for yours. Along with that disappointment, he also felt a surprising warmth. You had kissed him so gently, almost featherlight, and he’d never experienced that kind of affection from anyone, not even his mother. He was all sharp and rough edges, no one daring enough to risk being cut by his frightening figure. But you pulled away, unharmed, a shy smile on your face. Unfortunately, that was all you had done. “My prince,” You curtsied politely, and left a stunned Aemond in the Godswood nonchalantly, as if you hadn’t just triggered a part of him that he never thought he’d feel; desire. He had thought he wanted to protect your innocence, but now, all he could think about was ruining you.

The next morning, there was no place you could hide from prince Aemond. He found you almost immediately as the day started, dragging you to a secluded part of the Red Keep where he knew there would be no prying eyes. “Quite the display you made yesterday, care to enlighten me on the sudden…affection?” Aemond had asked.

You only smiled innocently, too innocently. “Whatever do you mean, my prince?”

Aemond reveled in the light gasp you made when he pressed you against the wall, his arm resting on the wall above your shoulder and the other on your waist, the slight pressure making you dazed. “You know very well what I mean, my lady. That kiss. Such a tease. You look so meek and innocent on the surface, but beneath all your polite smiles you’re just a little vixen, aren’t you? I’ve half the mind to take you right here right now, out in the open where any lord or lady could see.” The hand on your waist tightened, moving up your side but he froze when you placed your hand on his, a nervous expression on your face.

“Prince Aemond, I’ve never–I’m a maiden, my prince, I can assure you.” You stuttered uncharacteristically, making Aemond loosen the grip he had on you. “I never meant to make you think that…I was a woman of…loose morals.”

Aemond’s brows furrowed, one hidden beneath his eyepatch. “Then, yesterday? Why did you kiss me like that, just on the cheek, and leave?”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to compose yourself. “I didn’t want to just kiss you on the cheek, trust me. I almost really kissed you, but then a realization hit me right before I could. If someone were to see, report it to my father…he could lose his position because of me and I couldn’t do that to him. I’d be shamed, labeled a whore or worse.”

Aemond hummed, taking in your words, only a few really being comprehended more than the others. “If you had really kissed me…I would’ve kissed you back.”

You looked down at your feet, giggling shyly. “I assumed.”

Aemond lifted your chin with his hand gently, making sure your gaze stayed on him, your widened eyes making him force back a smirk. “You still could. Kiss me.” He stroked your cheek lightly, the peach fuzz of your face tickling his knuckles.

“B-But, my father-”

“Your father doesn’t have to know. I know the Red Keep like the back of my hand. I know the places that are scarcely visited, when others are devoid of servants or family, and there are secret passageways all over the Keep and there happens to be one that leads from your room,” He leans in close, his lips right next to your ear, “all the way to mine.”

You almost moaned, but pushed him away before your desires overcame you. “As delightful as that sounds…I don’t plan on giving away my maidenhead anytime soon. I can’t risk siring bastards, it would bring shame upon my family and my house. I’m sure that…you could understand.”

He could, and he did. As much as he wanted you, he’d respect your decision. He understood being a woman in this world was much more dangerous and had stricter societal rules. Besides, he’d never want to have bastards, that would be hypocritical. Though, the vision of your belly swollen with his seed made him aroused more than he would ever admit. He’d keep it to himself. “Of course, my lady. I’m not attracted to you just because you’re a maiden, you know? But…there are other things we can do together.”

You smiled. “Like what?”

Aemond’s hand was back on your waist, sliding his body against yours until his warmth and scent encompassed you entirely, bringing back that same dazed feeling in your head. “I could teach you about the history of Old Valyria, our house, maybe even teach you some Valyrian if you’d like.” His hand ran up and down your side, when you think his hand will reach the underside of your breast, he’d go back down. A frustrating cycle, his tone of voice not helping either. It did not sound like he was talking about teaching you history, more like teaching you about more…intimate studies. “We could read together in the library, perhaps I could introduce you to Vhagar one day. But first, you could kiss me. No one is around, no one will be for a while. That’s not too dangerous, is it?”

Your face flushed with heat, your eyes growing heavy with lust, a similar position you had him in just yesterday. “No, I suppose not.” You breathed out, placing your hands on his leather covered chest, feeling the tight muscles beneath, making the sensitive apex of your thighs ache with want.

Aemond stroked your cheek with the back of his hand, taking his time and his eye running over every detail of your face he could find, finding the imperfections that endeared him to you even more. He placed a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture making your heart thump even more rapidly in your chest, the anticipation almost making you lose your patience. Is this what you made him feel yesterday? But after what felt like an eternity, Aemond finally started to lean in, his breath fanning over your face, your own intermingling with his.

It was featherlight at first, tickling, not enough pressure to even feel like a kiss. But after a few seconds of Aemond simply teasing and tracing his lips with yours, he finally pressed against you more firmly. His lips were soft against yours, not rushing and moving languidly, eliciting a small noise of contentment from you. As he opened his mouth to trace his tongue on your bottom lip, you could tell he had some practice. You both deepened the kiss, his hand on your waist tightening and pulling you forward against him until your back ached off the wall. His other hand cupped your jaw roughly as the kiss became more passionate and frenzied, his teeth nibbling the sensitive flesh of your bottom lip until you winced from the sting, but you found that you quite liked it. You reached one of your hands to the nape of his neck, tangling and tugging at the silvery white hair until he groaned, the both of you sighing into each other’s mouths as desire overtook you.

You finally realized, despite you being adamant about retaining your virtue, your body was moving on its own accord. You were pawing at Aemond like some lecherous woman on the Street Of Silk, soft moans and sighs leaving your mouth unabashedly. Only when your hips started canting up towards him you finally managed to stop yourself, pulling your lips away from his with wild panting breaths.

“You’re a fast learner, my lady.” Aemond panted, chuckling breathlessly, seemingly unwilling to let you go.

“I suppose I am.” You mirrored his shy smile, reluctantly pulling away from his embrace only to immediately yearn for his arms around you again. “Perhaps we could read together in the library tomorrow?” You asked hopefully.

Aemond smirked. “To read, or to repeat what we just did?”

You scoffed, lightly smacking his shoulder. “To read!” You giggled, making Aemond laugh in return. You felt yourself swell with pride. It was so rare to see the prince genuinely laugh, and to be the one to elicit such a reaction from him, it made you feel like you were on top of the world.

When you both met up in the library the next day, you didn’t do much reading like you had planned…

From that day to the present, that had been a lot of what your relationship with prince Aemond was like. You got to know each other, of course. You had deep conversations, shared secrets you never told another soul in the world, learned about each other’s cultures and traditions, and grew fond of one another as the days passed. You each both confided in one another, making your bond deep, spending every moment you could in the privacy of your own bedrooms. It was inevitable that you fell in love with each other. Aemond spoke of his feelings first, which surprised you, thinking that it would be you to tell him first.

It had been a normal day like any other. Aemond was trying to teach you some Valyrian, laughing harder than he’s ever laughed in his life at your gods awful pronunciation at most of the words, but you were trying so hard he almost felt bad for laughing at you. Almost. When you finally perfected the phrase he was trying to teach you, your whole face lit up with pride. He had found he had a habit of just staring at you, especially when you smiled. He thought you were one of the most beautiful sights the world had to offer and he realized he needed you like he needed oxygen, and that’s when he said it. “I fear I’ve fallen madly in love with you, my lady.”

It only took you a few seconds for it to register, the statement making you freeze, then overwhelming joy completely consuming you. “I love you too, my handsome prince.” You grinned brightly, taking Aemond’s breath away and forcing a surprised huff from his lips when you lunged towards him, accidently knocking him out of his chair and you with him, collapsing together on the floor of his bedroom. You would’ve been mortified if it weren’t for the dark, lustful look in his eye as you hovered above him, your legs naturally coming to straddle him, like you were made to be in this position with him. Your face flushed with heat as you could feel the evidence of Aemond’s arousal through his trousers, pressing against your own aching core. “I want you…I want you so badly, Aemond.” You spoke brittly, the throbbing between your legs getting harder to ignore. Aemond leaned up off the floor with his elbows, surging forward to kiss you before you stopped him. “But I can’t give up my maidenhead…”

Aemond deflated in disappointment, but a light shined in his eye suddenly, a soft smirk adorning his lips. “I know of a way we can without taking your virtue.”

You sighed. “I don’t know-”

“Do you trust me?” Aemond looked up at you with pure love and adoration, the intensity almost forcing you to look away.

“With my life.”

Aemond situated himself on his bed, only in his smallclothes, making his erection even more prominent than before. He helped you undress down to your shift, with your permission, indulging in the feelings of your barely covered breasts as your gown was practically see through. You weren’t nervous or embarrassed like you thought you’d be, Aemond just made you feel so at ease and comfortable, looking at you like you were a goddess he worshiped that all insecurity fled your body in that moment. “Sit on my lap,” He instructed calmly, not giving away how eager he was to feel you against him. He had more self control than that, besides, he wanted this to be about you as much as himself.

You placed yourself in the position you were previously, just behind his arousal, waiting for his guidance. Aemond didn’t say anything as he took hold of your hips, bringing you forward until your aching cunt made contact with his cock through his smallclothes, the contact already making you both sigh out in pleasure. “Just rock yourself against me, sweetling.” He guided, helping you find your rhythm until you started to rock against him yourself, but his hands still stayed at your hips to ground himself.

This technically wasn’t losing your maidenhead, but it felt so good that it still made you guilty, but you were too aroused to care.

You moaned softly as you rubbed your slick folds against his clothed cock, your clit getting delicious stimulating pressure with every cant of your hips, all the while Aemond did not take his eye off you, his own groans of pleasure escaping his lips. “Does it feel good, my lady?” Aemond asked, almost smugly.

“Yes, my prince. So good.” You stuttered, finding it difficult to multitask…and breathe. You found yourself quickly getting overheated, your legs started to shake with your efforts. Aemond seemed to sense this, rolling you over on your back, a smile coming to his face when he saw the wet patch you already made on his smallclothes. “Did…I do that?” You asked in embarrassment.

Aemond smirked with pride. “It means you’re enjoying it, my lady. Now let me take over for a while, alright?” You nodded, your face heating up like a furnace as he hovered above. Even when making sure he wasn’t crushing you, you could still feel the power in his body, how easily he could force you into submission. But he wasn’t, he was letting you take the lead for the most part. But now, he was rutting against you, his clothed cock rubbing against your core just as perfectly as the previous position you were in. He was more confident and assured in his movements than you were, hitting your clit with more precision, making you cry out his name.

You clawed at his back, high pitched whines leaving your mouth, panting heavily. Aemond kissed all over your face, neck, and pulled down your shift until your breasts were freed from its confines to kiss them as well. Aemond’s breathless moans fanned against your ear, where he had tucked his face in the crook of your neck, the occasional soft whimper making you feel emboldened enough to roll him over to straddle him once again.

You braced your hands on his bare chest as you started to rock yourself faster, an unfamiliar pressure building in your lower stomach that threatened to burst if you kept going. It scared you, how could it get any better than this? You already felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, what would happen if that coil in you did burst? You thought you’d die on the spot, but Aemond kept giving you reassuring words and soothing your overheating body with his hands, encouraging you to keep going. “It’s alright, my lady. I’ve got you.” He cooed, one hand on your hip and the other taking hold of yours to kiss across the thin skin of your knuckles.

You felt the pressure building and building, like the whistling in a teapot getting louder as the water rose in temperature; until you came with a strangled cry, the feeling of euphoria overpowering your senses, your hips stuttering, tears coming to your eyes and falling down your cheeks in rivulets. Aemond’s grip on your hips returned, the force surely causing bruises to form as he continued to rock you against him, chasing his own end. You powered through the overstimulation, the sight of Aemond losing himself to his pleasure enough to make you want to do it all over again. He came with a loud grunt, his eye shutting tightly and bucking his hips up against you until he painted the inside of his smallclothes white, his spend mixing with yours. “You are truly magnificent, my lady.”

You loved each other so much. You couldn’t imagine life without him, and he felt the same as well. You always imagined living the rest of your life with him, married someday, and a gaggle of white haired children running around the Red Keep. That was until your dreams were crushed when your father told you that you were to be wed to someone who wasn’t your handsome prince.

How were you going to break the news to Aemond? How badly would he react? You didn’t want to stop being with him, you cared for him more than anything. But you had a duty to fulfill, you had to listen to your father, you simply had no choice. Women never got a choice.

You entered prince Aemond’s chambers through the secret passageway that he had shown to you, your heart already dropping to your stomach as he looked up from a book he was reading, grinning ear to ear as he laid his eye on you. “My lady,” He rose to his feet, greeting you with a soft kiss. “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Your expression must’ve given you away, for his grin fell, a look of concern replacing his joy. “What’s the matter, my love?”

You deflated, instinctually burrowing yourself into his chest with quiet sobs, his arms instantly wrapping around you. “My…my father…” You hiccupped, unable to get the words out for it was too painful.

“Shh, shh, shh,” Aemond cooed, rubbing his hands along your back to try and comfort you. “Take deep breaths, love. Take your time.”

“My father has betrothed me to someone else.” You cried, your tears falling freely off your face, staining your cheeks and creating a dark patch on Aemond’s white tunic.

Aemond froze, his heart starting to beat rapidly in his chest, anger threatening to take over his entire being. “What?” He spoke darkly, his voice dropping several octaves. “No. No, you can’t.”

You pulled away, wiping away your tears with the back of your hand angrily. “I have no choice, Aemond. Father has already set up a meeting with the lord. No matter what, I’m expected to marry him…bed him and bear his children.” You spat, your fate making you wish you were never born.

Aemond grabbed your shoulders tightly, a wild, dangerous look in his eye. “No. I won’t let this happen.”

You sighed in defeat. “Unfortunately, my love…it’s not up to you.”

You left his chambers feeling worse than you had felt before. Usually, you always left him beaming and weightless, like you could conquer the world as long as he was by your side. But now, you were going to be forced to leave him. You didn’t want to marry someone lord from the North. All your life, you’ve heard how hard living in the North was, how the citizens and even lords lived more like Wildlings than actual people. You’re betrothed was rugged, hairy, loud, and plump, the total opposite of your Targaryen lover. The thought of having to lay with someone like that, especially for your first time, it never failed to bring you to tears. It made you want to run back to Aemond, just so your first time would be with someone you loved. But that would be a sin, and if found out, might get you killed. If you didn’t bleed on your wedding night, your virtue would be called into question and you’d be labeled a harlot and be discarded onto the streets or worse. Your father promised the Northern lord a virgin, so you had no choice but to remain chaste.

Over the next few weeks, the Northern lord visited King’s Landing to meet you. You tried your best to be polite, not act disgusted as you truly felt whenever you were forced to dine with him. You barely saw Aemond, and you couldn’t, lest you garner unwanted attention that would have rumors spread like wildfire. But that didn’t mean Aemond tried to stay away himself.

Every so often, you’d spot him in the corner of your eye, watching you intently. You were never afraid of him, but you now started to fear what he might do to keep you, not that you’d protest. You could feel the tension in the air constantly when he was around. There came a point where Aemond would interrupt every meeting you had with the Northern lord. Even though it was quite amusing to see your prince so jealous, you couldn’t help but worry what your father would do if he found out Aemond was trying to sabotage your courtship. You could tell the lord was getting annoyed with all the interruption, but unfortunately, that made him all the more determined to wed you. Aemond wasn’t helping, at all. And he could tell. The night before your final meeting with the Northern lord to determine if you’d make a good match, Aemond came to your chambers through the secret passageway.

“Aemond? The hour is late, what are you doing here?” You asked with a bashful smile, standing up from your bed in nothing but your nightgown, not leaving much to the imagination.

Aemond smirked, sauntering towards you and placing his hands on your waist, pulling you flush against him. “What? I’m not allowed to see my lady?”

Your face grew hot at the possessiveness of his words, a pang of arousal shooting through your core. “No, my prince, you are not. Because if you recall, we’re not wed.” You sighed sadly. “...and never will be.”

Aemond tsked in annoyance, his grip on your hips tightening almost painfully. “You say that like it is a sure thing.”

You frowned. “Is it not?”

Aemond tilted his head as he gazed upon your face, running his pointer finger down your cheek, then along your jaw, gently lifting your chin up so your lips met his. “I will not let this happen to you, love. You. Are mine. Not some Northern dog…do you trust me?”

“Of course.” You asked immediately, melting against his touch, like his skin was a balm against yours.

“Then let me take care of it. Of you.”

“You already take care of me, my handsome prince.” And with that, his lips were back on yours in an instant, possessive and more aggressively, making you whimper. His hands caressed your body, running along your sides, grazing the underside of your breast until they traveled down to grab handfuls of the fatty flesh of your ass, eliciting a squeal from you. “Aemond,” You chuckled breathlessly between kisses, “I have to wake in the early morning.” You sighed out as he attached his lips to your neck, sucking harshly. “Aemond, no marks tonight.” But he paid you no mind. Then, you felt his fingers brush against your clothed core, and you had to push him away. “Are you trying to…bed me?” You asked nervously.

Aemond smirked. “I am.”

Your eyes widened, taking a step away from him, causing him to frown. “Why can’t we do what we normally do? The way without taking my virginity?”

“Do you not want me, my lady?” He asks, desperate to get his hands on you again.

“Of course I do, my prince. But to bed each other now, while I’m betrothed to another; it is a sin against the Seven. You know this.”

“What did I say? I will take care of it. But first, let me take care of you. I want you so badly. I’ve wanted to be buried inside you since I first laid my eye on you. Please, my love, I need more than just rubbing myself against you.” You gasped as he took hold of your hand and guided it to palm his already hardened cock, “Feel how I yearn for you?”

“I yearn for you too…” You stuttered, running your slightly trembling hand over one of his biceps while you experimentally squeezed his hardened length, causing him to let out a soft growl.

Aemond caught your lips with his once more, his breathing quickening as he felt his desire grow. “Then say yes.”

Then with a hesitant breath, you spoke, “Yes.”

As soon as the word left your lips, Aemond found yours with a vigor you hadn’t experienced from him so far into the relationship. He was desperate, and so were you. Your shaking frame gave away how nervous you truly were, but he soothed you with his hands, running them along your uncovered skin until you relaxed for him.

Aemond kissed and nipped at your neck as he led you to your bed, slowly undoing the various buckles and laces that held his clothing together. He smiled shyly as you raked your eyes over his now naked form. Even though you’ve seen him like this before, there was a whole new element involved, knowing that you two were going to be the closest two humans could possibly be. You lifted up your hand to reach for his eyepatch, noticing his body tense but allowing you to remove it. This wasn’t new either, but it still took Aemond some getting used to being so vulnerable with someone, that little boy in him still scared that you’d be disgusted by his scar; but as you removed the piece of leather for the umpteenth time, you smiled lovingly as his sapphire glimmered in the light from your fireplace. “My beautiful prince.”

You shivered as Aemond slowly pulled your nightgown down your body, goosebumps rising all over your skin at his featherlight touches. “My beautiful lady.” He replied with a smirk, allowing his hand to lower further down until he reached the slickness that spread over your folds. “So wet for me already, darling.” He chuckled.

“It’s easy when you treat me the way that you do, my love.”

“Yes? And how do I treat you exactly?”

“...like a princess.”

Aemond gripped both of your hips tightly, pulling your body flush against his, feeling his erection prodding against your inner thigh, his eye staring down at you with an emotion you couldn’t quite place. “If all goes according to plan, you will be…” He spoke ominously.

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you-?” You squeaked as Aemond pushed his lips against yours roughly, interrupting your question and replacing any thought you may have had with pure desire. He had such power over you, you couldn’t even fight it, not that you'd want to. He moved up your body, leaving sparks in their wake, trapping your face in between them as his mouth devoured yours desperately. You moaned at his passion, feeling completely wanted and cherished and he hadn’t even done much to you yet.

You gasped as Aemond guided his throbbing length to glide against your folds, your slick creating a pleasant friction that had your prince groaning at the feeling. You held onto him tightly as he rutted against you, his cock nudging your clit with every thrust. “I-I thought…you were going t-to bed me?” You babbled mindlessly, the minute pleasure you were feeling already throwing you for a loop.

“I am, my sweet lady. I need to get you warmed up first, understand? Patience.” He lightly scolded, his tone only making you more impatient. “On the bed.” He ordered, and you obeyed diligently. You tried not to shiver as he stalked above you, like a predator cornering his prey, making you feel even more vulnerable than you already were, his one remaining eye making his gaze more intense somehow. “Spread your legs for me.” You shivered then, the slight chill in the air grazing your cunt unpleasant, but it was worth it to see Aemond’s lips twist into a proud smirk. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you, my lady?”

You watched with heavy lidded eyes as Aemond sloppily kissed up your legs and inner thighs, his long silver hair tickling your skin and the slight sandpapery feel of his chin surprising in how much you liked the sensation. Then, you felt his panting breaths on your core, jolting as he licked one long stripe along your folds. “What are you doing?” You asked in a gasp.

“I’ve read about this before. It is supposed to be pleasurable for you, my lady. Would you like me to stop?”

You shook your head. “No…please, keep going.” He smiled and dove in, using the tip of his tongue to run through your folds teasingly, barely stimulating your clit, making you whine.

“You taste divine.” Aemond moaned like he was the one being pleasured, making your face heat up. The bed shook lightly as he gently rutted into the sheets, hearing your whines and whimpers making his cock ache for attention. You let out a breathy moan as Aemond suckled at your clit, the feeling making your eyes roll to the back of your skull briefly. You couldn't stop your hips from jerking up against his mouth, but he placed his hands there to hold you down.

“Oh, gods, Aemond. Right there, please, please…” You whined, his tongue plucking your strings to perfection, making you near that euphoric crescendo way too quickly. “So close…” You babbled, unable to form a word as you neared your peak.

“Come.” Aemond ordered gruffly. “Come for me, my lady.” And with a loud, sharp cry, you came on his tongue, your senses bubbling over like boiling water. “Good girl. That’s my good girl.” He praised, soothing your overheated skin with his rough hands, pinching your pebbled nipples in fascination. He kissed your tears from your cheeks, gazing down at you in adoration, the expression directed at you almost as good as reaching a climax. “Think you’re ready for me, my love?” He asked softly, and you didn’t care how much it would hurt, you wanted him badly.

“Please…I need you, Aemond.”

You started to notice how anxious Aemond must’ve been, the way his hands trembled as he ran them over your soft skin, the way he took his breaths like he was frightened. He didn’t want to hurt you. He wanted to make your first time as painless as possible if he could, but his body was so aching and ready to take you just the way he wanted. But he restrained himself for you. He could be rough with you another time. “Tell me if it gets to be too much.” All you could do was nod.

Your own cum slick entrance wasn’t enough to prepare for how much you’d have to fit inside. You knew Aemond was well endowed, but you didn’t think you’d ever have to worry about it actually fitting inside you. You had to hold in your cries as he pushed the tip of his cock past your entrance, a heated sharp pressure building in intensity the more he pushed in. He groaned above you as you pulsed at the intrusion, but you wouldn’t dare to tell him how much it actually hurt, not when he looked so pretty like this. The pain was worth it. But after he finally bottomed out, he gave you a well needed break and the pain slowly morphed into something more. It still hurt a bit, but now you needed him to move, like you’d die if he didn’t.

Aemond gasped silently as you started to gyrate your hips, encouraging him to start moving. He started off slow at first, still worried about hurting you. But as he noticed your pained whines turning into moans of pleasure, he sped up his thrusts a bit more. He couldn’t stop the smirk that worked his way onto his features as your breasts bounced with every cant of his hips, his hand reaching out to grope them roughly. “Fuck, my love. You feel so amazing.” He panted, his skin starting to glimmer with a thin sheen of sweat.

WIth how much slick you were producing, you wouldn’t be surprised if your bed linens were ruined. You could hear yourself, you could hear where Aemond’s body met yours with each thrust. With his cockhead hitting a place deep inside you paired with the sound of the splash of your wet skin violently meeting his, you could feel that intense building sensation that you had grown so accustomed to thanks to Aemond, but it was different. You could almost feel him in your chest, he was so deep.

You moaned and sobbed uncontrollably, your velvety walls clenching tightly around his cock, making him grunt loudly. “Oh, gods, Aemond!” You cried, almost hyperventilating due to the overwhelming pleasure. You didn’t even realize you were clawing into his shoulders until he pinned them to the mattress, forcing you still as he plowed into you, but still unable to stop the rest of your body writhing in oversensitivity. “Aemond, Aemond…” You whined, practically shaking underneath him.

Sweat dripped down Aemond’s forehead and off his nose, the fireplace roaring not helping with how much warmth the two of you were creating between your bodies. Your sweat covered bodies clung to one another, sticking you together, the filthiness of it all making it all the more passionate. “I know, my love. Hold on, I’m so close.” He panted, his thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic as he chased his end. His eye rolled to the back of his head as he was right on that edge, just one more thrust could do it, but instead he pulled out, making you whine. Aemond stroked himself quickly until he came on your stomach with a loud groan, shuddering as goosebumps rose along his skin. “Fuck…” With one final kiss to your swollen lips, he collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling deeply in exhaustion.

You both turned towards one another as you caught your breath, a small smirk playing at the corner of Aemond’s lips. You hummed contently as he ran one of his hands up and down your upper arm, leaning into his touch like a kitten. “Are you alright, my lady?” He asked sweetly.

You nodded bashfully, teeth showing in a bright smile. “It was everything I ever dreamed of.”

Aemond leaned forward to kiss your forehead, bringing you close to his chest. “I’m glad I could be the first one to give this to you.” But the comment only made you frown.

“What happens now?”

Aemond looked down at you burrowed in his chest, an aura of confidence buried just beneath the surface of his thoughtful expression. “Let me worry about that, my love. You just sleep now. Sleep.” He cooed, and being as exhausted as you were, you had no trouble obeying him like you always had.

By the time you awoke, Aemond had already left, but not before leaving you a note saying something about his princely duties but he also took the time to remind you how much he loved you. It satisfied you anyway as you also had duties to attend to, and you could only pray to the Seven that no one important noticed your slight limp.

Meanwhile, all Aemond could think about was the night you shared together. Training was a bit more difficult in that respect, even gaining Ser Criston’s curiosity about where his head was at. He just blamed it on a restless night, which…wasn’t false. But his thoughts were also occupied by a plan that formed in his mind. This day would require luck on Aemond’s part, if he were to do this correctly. Being a son of a king, he had his ways of knowing where anyone was at any time. What he hadn’t expected, however, was his target making his way towards Aemond himself. “Lord Umber, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Aemond greeted coldly, not shying away from the lord’s attempts to appear intimidating. It was amusing, if anything. Pathetic, more like.

“I don’t know what your intentions are with my betrothed, but I would advise you stay away from her. I don’t care if you’re a prince. She’s mine, or will be very soon.”

Aemond couldn’t help but smirk, his mind conjuring up all the ways he had already made you his, right underneath this hairy oaf’s nose. “My lady does not belong to anyone but me, lord Umber.”

The larger man laughed, amused like Aemond was a child who had just told a joke. “She’s yours, is she? Sounds to me like your royal highness is jealous.” Aemond narrowed his eye. “Yes, I’ve seen you with her. The way you cling to her side like a lost pup. You just can’t imagine her being with someone else, can you? Well, don’t worry, prince Aemond. Once she’s my wife, I’ll treat her kindly on our wedding night; but just the first time. By dawn, her voice will be sore from screaming my name. She’ll have sired me an heir by the time I’m done with her.” Aemond had half a mind to slit this stupid man’s throat right then and there. How dare he speak of you that way? And as if the man couldn’t get any dumber, he continued on. “She seems so innocent, doesn’t she? I bet she’s never even tried pleasuring herself. Imagine how tight her-”

And with a swift pommel to the temple, the Northern lord was finally interrupted from his perverse rant and knocked unconscious.

Aemond hummed, staring down at the man with a certain morbid curiosity. How strange a man that burly could be rendered completely useless by just one blow to the head. It just hammered in the thought in his mind that this lord was not worthy of you. Not one bit. He’d deal with the consequences later. Right now, he needed to find you before the lord came to. And he found you fairly quickly.

“What are you doing?” You giggled nervously as Aemond dragged you to a certain part of the Keep, gasping as he pushed you up against the brick wall, the memory of being in a similar position not that long ago flashing in your mind. You hummed as he kissed you lovingly, leaving your eyes heavy lidded and pupils lust blown as he pulled away.

Aemond held up his index finger, motioning for you to wait. He looked around the corner of the somewhat secluded area of the Rep Keep, smirking furiously when he saw the Northern lord still laying in the hall right where he left him. He could wake at any moment, Aemond would have to start now. “I started to miss you as soon as I left, my love.” Aemond spoke as he found his way back to you, running his calloused hands along your sides. “Couldn’t stop picturing you split open on my cock. Need to see it again, need to feel you.”

As Aemond tried to lift up your skirts, you made a feeble attempt to stop him. “But, what if someone were to walk past? Anyone could see us?” You whisper yelled. Aemond restrained himself from rolling his eye. That’s quite the point.

“That’s why I checked if anyone was near, my love. Please, my cock aches for you.”

Oh, how could you refuse when he begged so prettily like that?

Aemond lifted up your skirts, feeling a wetness gathered at the apex of your thighs. “Do you just get wet at the sight of me, my lady?”

Your face burned like a furnace, a bashful smile on your lips. “Maybe.”

Aemond grinned, turning you so your front was pressed against the wall. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, my prince. Please, fuck me.” You whined, and he couldn’t hide his expression of pride and shock.

“Oh, you want me to fuck you, hm? Not make love to you?” He teased, talking in your ear as he undid his trousers.

You shivered, feeling the blunt tip of his cock prod at your entrance. “Yes.”

Aemond heard the faintest shuffling from the hall, halting his movements briefly. He turned to see in the corner of his eye the silhouette of lord Umber, frozen as he stared at the shocking scene before him. Aemond could only laugh under his breath as he pushed into you, smiling genuinely when you couldn’t bite back your moan. “Fuck, my love. Still just as tight as you were last night.”

You cried out as Aemond’s thrusts speed up in their pace and roughness immediately, the force jolting your whole body in place, making your breasts push against the brick wall. “Who do you belong to, my lady?” Aemond growled suddenly, marking up the skin of your neck with his teeth. “Say it! Who do you belong to, jorrāelagon?”

“You, Aemond!” You stuttered, losing yourself in the pleasure he was giving you.

“You’re mine, are you not?”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours. Only yours, my love!”

“Not that idiot Northern lord Umber?”

“No, I belong to you. I don’t want anyone else, my prince.” You babbled, almost unable to form full sentences.

“Think he could make you feel the way I can?” Aemond hummed with a dark smirk, knowing fully well the lord could hear them. He hadn’t looked towards the burly man in a while, focusing on making you fully relent to him, forcing you to scream exactly how he’s made you his. If he could guess, the lord was probably red with rage, the thought making him pound into you faster. “Hmm? Can you not answer me, my lady? Is my cock making you feel that good?” He asked condescendingly.

“So…so good…” You moaned, peaking without any stimulation to your clit.

Aemond grunted. “You want my cum, love? You want me to fill you up?” You must’ve been out of it, because you begged him to. “Good girl. ‘M gonna give you my cum. Fuck, you’d look so beautiful carrying my child if my seed takes, wouldn’t you agree?” By that time, lord Umber was long gone, and Aemond could sense it. Now, he was just saying whatever he felt like saying for himself. The image of you married to him, carrying his Targaryen babe, made him finally let go.

Aemond’s chest heaved against your back, sweat making your clothes stick to your bodies. “Avy jorrāelan…” He grinned at your attempt, your pronunciation was a bit off, but he couldn’t say anything when you spoke the words so sweetly.

“I love you, my lady.” He nuzzled into the back of your neck, inhaling the scent of your hair. “Mine…all mine.”

What came after that was par for the course.

Lord Umber, enraged and embarrassed, went to your father to tell him what he had seen. The Northern lord demanded a virgin, but in his eyes, what he got was a whore. It was his word against yours, a woman, so you obviously wouldn’t have been believed even if you were telling the truth. But out of pure survival instinct, you lied and denied. You would never give away your body like that, even to a prince. Your one saving grace from being scalped publicly, was prince Aemond. To get his side of the story.

“Lord Umber said that he saw you and my daughter…engaging in premarital activities.” Your father spoke, his voice unsteady in his rage.

Aemond, as calm as you ever saw him, spoke, “That is an outrageous lie. I would never defile a lady such as her.”

Lord Umber guffawed. “You lying prick. I saw you, balls deep into this whore.”

Aemond’s eye darkened, taking a step closer to the three of you. “You are a guest here, lord Umber, but you forget yourself. To spread such vile rumors against the son of the king, is treason.” And with that one word, the warmth in the air depleted, leaving a cold eerie silence in the room. “Do you know what happens to people that commit treason against the crown?” Lord Umber was uncharacteristically silent now. “On your way in from the middle of nowhere, you did notice all the heads that were stacked neatly on pikes, correct? Those were all men and women who spoke lies about us. Would you like your head to join them as well?”

The Northern lord was finally frightened into submission, but Aemond didn’t stop there.

“I shall have my grandsire arrest you and behead you on the morrow.”

“Wait, my prince!” Lord Umber called out desperately. Aemond smirked, how the big strong men fall when they’re faced with death. “Please, I take back what I said. I didn’t see anything! It must’ve been someone else. I sincerely apologize for being so quick to anger and place blame on the wrong person. Please, forgive me.” He begged.

Aemond pretended to consider the apology, but he knew what he wanted from the moment they sought him out. “I will pardon this indiscretion…but for a price.”

“Whatever it is, my prince, it shall be yours.”

“Your betrothed.”

“What?” You, your father, and lord Umber spoke at the same time.

“I will let you keep your head if you give me her. Seems to be a small price to pay, wouldn’t you agree?”

Your father and lord Umber shared looks, while you and Aemond did the same. Theirs were filled with fear and uncertainty, but yours with Aemond…pure love and respect. You didn’t even think of the means he was able to make this happen. But now, you wouldn’t have to leave for the North with a man who would never see you as his equal. Now, you have the chance to live with the love of your life for the rest of your days.

“She’s yours, my prince.” Your father announced, and you had to stop yourself from jumping with joy.

“You made the right choice. As for you, lord Umber, I want you out of King’s Landing by daybreak. If any of our guards find you after then, I’ll bring you back here and behead you myself. Are we at an understanding?”

“Yes, prince Aemond.” Lord Umber spoke, excusing himself and running with his tail between his legs. No amount of chains could hold a dragon down.

For the first time in Aemond’s life, he didn’t care that he disappointed his mother and grandsire. He gained his father’s permission and that’s all that mattered to him. Although, it wasn’t too difficult to convince a man addled on Milk of the Poppy.

That same night, Aemond came to your chambers, immediately captured in an embrace. “How?” Was all you asked.

“You know how people say Targaryens are closer to gods than men? Well, I just used some of my godly powers.” He grinned, kissing you like his life depended on it. “I hope you aren’t upset with me.”

You huffed incredulously. “Why would I be? Aemond, you save me from a miserable existence in the North. I can’t thank you enough. If you hadn’t done what you did, I’m sure my father would’ve found me another lord so he could fill his pockets.”

Aemond lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his bright eye. “You won’t have to deal with your father any more, my love. I’ll take care of you. And I will not let anything or anyone come between us. I swear it.”

Finally, Aemond was all yours, and you were his; now and forever.

yeah, i rushed the ending so i could finally finish this. WHAT OF IT???

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x f!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine

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steebharringt0n · 1 year

Text

dangerous liaisons

summary: he was sent to protect you, infiltrate your family as your personal bodyguard, but instead he plans on defiling you. pairing: mob!steve harrington/fem!reader warnings: SMUT (18+), innocent!reader, dom!steve, a lil bit of mean!steve, masturbation, religious talk, slight age gap. a/n: MOB!STEVE MOB!STEVE! Anyways these will purely just be smut fics involving Steve and you, maybe one day I’ll go more in depth with it but for now this’ll do :) also reader is 18 years old btw! and if you saw any mistakes no you didn't.

“Steve, what do you know about anatomy?”

Your legs swung lazily in the air, your white knee high socks still on your feet. You were laying on your bed, biology textbook open wide in front of you. You glanced up at the dark haired man sitting in the corner of your room, his arms crossed against his chest, looking incredibly bored.

You watch as a muscle in his jaw twitches, his eyes gazed off to elsewhere.

He heard you tsk, head shaking in disappointment, “Nothing? Ah, you’re no help Harrington”

Harrington. He wanted to laugh.

That wasn’t his real name. It was his fathers, the name his mother took to protect herself, protect her family.

Angelica Harrington, born Angelica Costello, was daughter of Frank Costello, the Don of the Costello family. Steve grew up surrounded by his Italian side of the family. Sunday dinners, catholic school, and a tight knit family who kept to themselves in Hawkins, Indiana.

Sure, Hawkins was ways away from New York where the majority of his family lived but he was sent here with a mission in hand, specifically set by his grandfather who he regarded in high respect. A frail old man now, whose sun spots and wrinkles covered most of his face. Steve would have never guessed that his favorite family member had blood on his hands, the infamous Costello family was known for quick hits and brutal tortures.

After his father passed away, his grandfather decided it was time to show Steve the business - much to his mothers' despair. She didn’t want her only son wrapped up in the business, but Frank knew his grandson had it in him. He was a Costello, it ran in his blood.

So one day, shortly after turning 21, he followed his grandfather into his study, a dark wooden room with bookshelves and family pictures littered across walls.

“Steven, do you know why we moved to Indiana, left everything behind?” He began, pacing the room as he gazed at the family photos.

Steve took a seat on the leather chair, his eyes following Frank’s move.

“No, grandfather”

Frank chuckled, shaking his head, “Well Steven, it’s time I introduced you to the family business”

Steve was then slowly introduced to that side of the family. Meeting Frank's 'associates', learning how to shoot a gun, learning about the underground drug trade that ran through Hawkins that Frank was certain his family was going to take it from the Messina Family.

That’s where you came in.

The Messina and Costello family had been feuding for over 50 years. A rivalry that began in Italy and continued into New York and had now spilled into Indiana.

A drug trade that was snatched from the Costello family. The Messina's' then fled New York, moving the entire family to a little town known as Hawkins, where no one knew them, of their crimes, and what they were capable of.

The Messina’s had one daughter, the pride and jewel of the family, the baby of the family. Your father was the Don of the Messina family, having taken over the business from his father. You grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never missing anything in your life.

And you were the key to bringing your family down.

The plan in itself was simple. The Messina’s would hire Steve as her bodyguard, Steve would infiltrate the family and take the business back. The plan seemed simple enough, Steve didn’t raise any eyebrows with the last name Harrington. He had an extensive resume created for him because the Messina’s only hired the best for their baby girl.

Then he met you, you all in your catholic school uniform, a tight white blouse with a checkered pattern pleated skirt. Knee high socks that made your legs look longer than what they are. You were coy, quiet, watching Steve through long fluttered eyelashes.

Steve was instantly attracted to you no doubt, but he wasn’t here to fuck around. He was here to get the job done and move to New York.

But the longer he stayed around you the more he couldn’t control himself - especially when you would act like a brat around him, which was most of the time.

Steve’s eyes shifted back to you on your king sized bed, you were starting to annoy him with the loud, incessant smacking of your gum.

“Could you chew any louder?” He snaps at you.

You look up from your textbook, eyebrows knitting together in annoyance. You slam your book close, eyes zeroed in on Steve. You didn’t say anything, you just stared at him and continued to chew loudly.

You watched as the vein in his temple throbbed, you loved getting under his skin, watching him get flustered under your teasing words.

“C’mon, quit it, you’re being annoying and I have a headache” he hisses.

You turn over on your back, throwing your books off your bed. “Aw poor baby” you mock, “Does the baby need someone to hold him?”

“Shut it”

“Make me”

He turns his head to give you a glare, you were hanging off of your bed, head dangling off on the edge, your vision all topsy-turvy. He shoots up from his chair, charging towards your bed. You watch him amusingly, until he yanks your leg towards him.

You make a yelping noise, surprised at how quick and how strong he is. He then crawls on your bed, hovering over you, one of his knees makes it in between your skirt.

You watch him with a grin as he forcefully grabs your chin to look at him. He looks pissed, annoyed, irritated, but you could care less. He inadvertently moved his knee a little too high up your skirt, hitting your sensitive area. You let out a soft moan by accident, the sensation sending tingles all over your body.

That moan didn’t go unnoticed by Steve.

One of his eyebrows shoots up, he pulls away from you, letting you come up on your elbows.

“What was that?” He questions.

You suddenly become bashful, tugging your skirt down, but Steve’s leg stayed right in place. You shrug, “I - I don’t know, your knee …” you trail off, avoiding his eyes.

A wicked grin starts to spread across his face, he notices as your demeanor quickly changes. He purposely tenses up his knee, nudging it against that sweet spot.

“S-Steve…” you breathe out heavily.

“What is it? What do you feel?” His voice is soft, quiet like.

“Y-your knee, when you …” you trail off, not sure how to word it. While you could be a brat, anything sexual was off the table for you. You were as pure as pure can be, catholic school drilled it in your head that any impure thoughts would send you straight to hell.

But at this moment, being sent to hell didn’t make any sense, especially when it felt that good.

“Do you like it? Does it feel good when my knee touches you there?”

He starts hovering back over you, like a cat stalking its prey, his mouth widens into a shit eating grin. He’s got you in the palm of his hands.

“N-no, it’s a sin, masturbation is a sin” you utter out.

Steve cackles, as if you had just said a joke. You suddenly feel small against his presence, he was so much bigger, stronger than you. His hand starts to slowly skim its way up your face, his thumb coming up to rub your cheek.

“Oh honey, you’ll come to learn in life that everything that feels good is a sin” he whispers against the shell of your ear. You swallow thickly, your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest.

“Do you want me to do it again? Learn a little anatomy?”

Your eyes lock onto his, his pupils are blown, wide with excitement. You lean into his touch and utter a small “Yes”

“What a good girl, now open wide”

He shifts his thumb from your cheek down to your bottom lip where he slowly pries your mouth open, he rests his thumb on your pink tongue.

You're quaking in his arms, feeling your wetness pool around in your underwear. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, like a live wire was sent throughout your body. It’s intoxicating, it’s sinful. Steve readjusts himself, angling his knee to better hit your clit.

“Hnng, Steve … keep, keep, doing that” you moan out, arms splayed out on the bed. The top two buttons of your white uniform pop open as your back arches, displaying a red lacy bra underneath. Your gold cross necklace sits right in between your breast bone, catching the sun's reflection on it. Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony. The bone of his knee hits right on your clit, pressing on it gently.

He wants you to cum on him, he wants you to know how good it feels to be sinful.

“You like how that feels huh? Look at you, dirty girl rubbing your clit on my knee” his voice is richer, an octave deeper than what you usually hear. It sends goosebumps down your body. How easily you melt with just a nudge of his knee, but god you’ve never felt this good before.

Your wetness starts seeping out of your underwear, staining Steve’s pants but he doesn’t care, he just wants to destroy you.

“S-Steve, I - I feel weird, like, like, like …” you can’t finish your sentence as your brain becomes mush. Your chest is heaving heavily, he continues to rub your clit gently with his knee, going around in small circles.

He shoves his thumb back into your mouth, shutting you up. Your eyes roll at the back of your head, pleasure shocking you through your core. His pants have become unbearably tight, his thick member creating a tent in his pants. He grabs a hold of his cock through his jeans, trying to release some of the pressure.

He had finally found your weakness. Your innocence is your weakness, and Steve was going to break down those walls. He was going to absolutely defile you.

“You’re about to cum aren’t you? Yeah that’s right, you see my knee is hitting your clit. Those little bundle of nerves were made to make you cum. That’s the only thing it’s good for” he leans down and nips at your earlobe.

You moan loudly in response.

“Shhhh, you wouldn’t want daddy to interrupt our anatomy lesson now do you?” He softly scolds you.

You shake your head, eyes glossy and his thumb still in your mouth.

“Good, because I’m going to fucking ruin you”

His knee starts rubbing your clit faster, with more urgency. You’re an absolute mess underneath him, sweat sticking to your skin, hair a tangled mess. Your arms shoot up and grip his brown hair pulling him down to your chest

“Oh, you like that huh? I want you to cum, I want you to come all over my knee” he commands you.

All you can do is give him a nodding of your head because words cannot properly come out of your mouth. He continues to press against your clit and he sees that you’re close. Your heavy breathing turns into whimpers and you feel like you’re about to hit a tipping point. You’ve never experienced an orgasm before but if this is what it feels like, then you're aching for more.

Steve moves his thumb from your month and wraps his hand around your neck, squeezing gently.

And that’s all it took.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod … “ your back fully arches off the bed as you cum all his knee. You let out a loud moan, eyes tightly shut. You feel like you’ve reached heaven, like you’ve been injected with pleasure from the gods. Steve doesn't stop though, he continues to work you through your orgasm but once he sees how tears begin to prick at the corner of your eyes due to the overstimulation, he pulls his knee away.

He glances down at his pants, a large wet spot now stains his knee, and his pants are still (and unfortunately) uncomfortably tight. He lifts up your skirt, glancing down at your underwear where it's become wet with your cum. He swipes a finger over your throbbing clit, collecting the juices that spilled from you.

"I want you to taste yourself, see how sweet you taste"

You lazily lift yourself up, eyes still half lidded. Your whole world has been turned upside down and you've become addicted to the sensation. You're at the mercy of your bodyguard and you want him to make you feel good over and over again. You grab his hand and take his finger into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the wetness.

"Look at you cleaning my finger, such a fucking dirty girl. Tell me, how good to you taste?"

You take his finger out of your mouth with a loud pop,

"Like candy"

#steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut

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astraaa3 · 7 months

Note

Yandere Lucifer and GN!Reader headCanon

A/N: Thank you for the request Anon. I absolutely loved writing thisss. Kisses and hugs. Feedback is much appreciated. Also, if you want to proofread this degeneracy that I write please feel free to shoot me a dm. Mwah. Now, let's get this bitch on the road.

Yandere!Lucifer X Gn!Reader

Note: The first few ideas/phrases/headcanons whatever you want to call them might not seem like straight-up Yandere behavior, but it will get there. Lucifer doesn't seem like the type to instantly go full "You're mine, you're not allowed to leave". You'll see what I mean by that~ Cw/tw: yandere behavior (obviously), given the first warning possessive and obsessive behavior are a given so keep an eye out for that as well; threats of violence; actual violence;

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Initially, you came to the Hazbin Hotel out of pure curiosity and boredom. You didn't actually think that sinners could get redeemed. After all, everyone here had their chance of leading a righteous life. That said, you ended up staying at the Hotel. Whether it was because of the Princess' puppy eyes that basically begged you to remain, or whether it was because you found yourself actually enjoying the company of the residents, you still didn't know why for sure.

It was a few weeks into your stay at the hotel when you first met Lucifer. It was apparently the first time Charlie saw her father in quite a while as well.

After Lucifer spent some (much-needed) father-daughter time with Charlie, he found himself at the bar right next to you. He was immediately taken aback by your looks. The two of you quickly found yourselves making some small talk. As most talks over a drink go, the topics took a deeper turn after a while, when Lucifer asked you "Do you really believe sinners can be redeemed?"

You smiled looking into your drink as if it could give you the words you couldn't find within yourself. Finishing your drink in one big gulp, you stood up, looking at Lucifer with a small smile: "Not really, no. But I think that if anyone can find a way to do it... it's Charlie" With that you left. Unknowingly leaving behind you a flustered King of Hell.

Since that discussion Lucifer found himself entranced by you. He analyzed everything about you. From the way your nose scrunched up with laughter whenever you were genuinely laughing, to the way you walked (he could already tell how you were feeling based solely on the way you stepped).

He made sure to bring you your favorite drink whenever you felt down, coaxing you into telling him whatever made you upset over a drink (or more than a drink if you didn't feel particularly sharing in regards to what made you upset).

And well, if it was someone that upset you, that person would find themselves on Lucifer's radar. (and if their bodies turned up later on, well, it's not like he would ever let you find out; he didn't want to risk losing your favor)

You found Lucifer's unyielding pursuit of finding everything about you to be quite cute. Yeah, maybe it was a bit over the top and spiraling out of control, but the silly crush you had developed for the King of Hell was jumping up and down with joy whenever you had his attention.

The first time Lucifer's possessive side came out you were arguing with another sinner in the Hotel's lobby. The sinner was some runt who thought he would be able to get his hands on Angel Dust if he stayed in the hotel. Having grown fond of the resident porn star you defended your friend giving the sinner a verbal lashing. Lucifer just watched on amused and annoyed (that your attention was not on him) his love-sick smile turning into an enraged frown when the sinner proposed that the two of you "made love instead of war". HOW FUCKING DARE HE. Not only did he dare look at what belonged to the King of Hell. Not only did he dare to imply defiling your precious innocent body. He dared to utter the word 'love' while looking at you.

Lucifer's patience snapped and with a snap of his fingers, a portal opened beneath the sinner's feet teleporting him high up in the sky on the other side of the Pentagram. You looked shocked at Lucifer. Seeing him angry on your behalf... It was hot.

That night was one of the many the two of you found yourselves falling into bed together, soon after making your relationship official.

As days passed, Lucifer started making more and more odd requests: "My love, could you please tell me whenever you leave the hotel?", "You should leave some of your clothes over at my place, for simplicity's sake." , "Could you please stop talking to (Friend Name)? I... think they may be harboring feelings for you. I think I actually heard them admit to that once. I'm sorry if I'm overreacting but since Lilith left me....", "Darling, I know we haven't dated for long, but I would love it if you were to move in. I know you love the hotel, but I want to make sure you are safe. No? I... alright. We'll talk about it later, it's going to be ok".

The moment that made you realize that Lucifer's obsession was more serious than you thought was after the battle against Adam and the exorcist angels. You got hurt in the chaos of the battle. It was just a stab wound, but when Lucifer saw it, he flipped. With a serious tone, he looked at you, a crazed look in his eyes: "You are going to make a contract with me. You are going to give your soul to me. I will not hear any objections. You clearly can't take care of yourself. So, do we have a deal?"

You reflexively nodded out of fear, having not seen your lover so serious.... so obsessed.... so possessive. This was the first time you looked at Lucifer and saw The King of Hell, the Devil from the Bible. As he gently took your hand shaking it he smiled, the crazed look never leaving his eyes, he cupped your face gently "It's going to be alright, my love, I will take care of everything. I will make sure that you never need for anything. And you will never leave me, after all, you are the apple of my eye."

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Small prompt: After the deal

It has been two months since you moved in with Lucifer. Your lover wouldn't take no for an answer. And well, you couldn't really say no to him anyway.... After the initial apprehension ended, you fell into a domestic routine with Lucifer: he would coax you to wake up with small kisses peppered across your face, kisses which turned into full-blown sleepy make-out sessions the moment you were awake; afterward, he would make breakfast for the two of you (the duck-shaped pancakes being your favorite); then, the two of you would go to the Hotel to check up on everyone or whatever else the two of you felt like doing; at the end of the day you would take a bath with Lucifer as he would make love to you, your body warm and soft from the hot water; you ended the day with a kiss. The next day it was the same routine. And the next. And the next.

Wherever you went, whatever you did, Lucifer was there with you. Initially, you were bothered by it, feeling like your privacy was forcefully taken from you. But as Lucifer whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he would hug you to his chest proclaiming his love for you, as he would make love to you cradling your face and telling you that you're his... You slowly forgot what it was like to have time alone.

When you first realized how much of your time Lucifer monopolized you tried going on a walk alone. That was the first time since the deal when you saw Lucifer get truly angry. Golden chains wrapped around your body, you were tied to your bed, his smile overly sweet as he caressed your face: "You see how easy it is for someone to just kidnap you? What if someone tried doing something to you, my love? You are so weak and pure, I can't let those dirty sinners touch or even glance at you. Now then, you can play with the duckies while I make sure that no one who saw you today sees the light of day again." with that, he kissed your lips sweetly before leaving you there tied to the bed, with a rubber duck on your chest.

After that, you never tried leaving again, too afraid that maybe your lover's ire will turn to you this time around. But Lucifer would never. He loved you, obsessively so. Maybe... it wasn't that bad letting him lock you away in the gilded cage you called home. After all, did you really need anything else when you already had him?

#lucifer x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #gender neutral reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin hotel headcanon #lucifer morningstar x reader

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sepherinaspoppies · 11 months

Text

whatever may come - dark! aemond targaryen x servant reader

summary: aemond punishes his maidservant after catching her talking to a stableboy. he, however, will not recognize the consequences to his actions later on.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, noncon, dubcon, oral m receiving, cum play?, p in v sex, rough sex, possessiveness, degradation. I think that's it?

wc: 2,700

my masterlist

notes: lol this was inspired by a tiktok edit?? anyways I think this is dark? I apologize if this sounds like crap, I ruined my sleep schedule for this?? haha

byka līve: little whore

She silenced her whimpers to the best of her ability, her lower lip caught between her teeth so tightly that she could taste the metallic drops of her blood as the man above her painfully gripped the very roots of her hair jerking her trembling body away from his lap to the stone cold floor.

She looked up through her eyelashes as she watched him correct her posture to his liking like a mere doll, the same ones she would watch him play with in the privacy of his sister’s chambers whenever she did her maid duties.

After he had settled her into her knees, she immediately let out a sigh of relief as that burn waved itself away to solace. She continued to look at him, back and forth between his lone violet eye and his sparkling sapphire that only seemed to strangely glow whenever she was present. His expression was unreadable from the previous austere one where moments ago he remorselessly and brutally, to be quite clear, hit multiple blows against her bottom, making her count each and every single one without tears in her eyes. She never knew how to count, but Aemond made sure to teach her with each hit upwards to twenty.

She knew Aemond was angry and he had every right to be. Earlier on the day as he was training with his mother’s knight, Criston Cole, out in the outer yard when he spotted his favorite maidservant blushing and laughing with a plainly featured stableboy as his dirty little fingers swept back a piece of loose hair out of her face.

Never once did Aemond ever see his maidservant smile that brightly before much less directed towards him. And she had no reason to whatsoever. His presence did not bring her joy or an ounce of merriment, it was much the opposite of that. So why did Aemond believe that he deserved a little smile when all he ever did was defile, break and use her all whilst making her cry in the end?

There was only one reason a low born male like him smiled that way and Aemond shunned those ill fitting thoughts out of his mind for he did not want to think of another man touching his maidservant.

She was his and his only, no one else’s. And she’d do well to remember that.

“Undress me, byka līve” Aemond demands, speaking the last two phrases in his ancestral language. Never knowing what they meant, if they were expressed appreciatively or aimed in an appraising matter.

Deep down she had an inkling that they were not.

She blinked, hesitantly bringing herself up from the floor. Just as she began to unfasten his black leather doublet, her hair was tugged yet again before her knees were bent back down against the stone.

She winced, carefully not to make any sound.

“No, byka līve, not there. Here—” His fingers threaded her hair more tightly, pressing her face flat against his pelvis. She could feel the swellness of his cock across her face, where the base of his manhood started nudging at the bottom of her chin and where the pulsating tip pressed a little above her eyes.

But what astonished her the most was the small wet patch that amplified the smell of his sex. Surely, this was not what she thought it was.

There was only one way to find out.

The one eyed prince released his tight grip on the roots of her hair. She wondered that by the end of the night, after he was done with her if there would be any hair left. Her hair was the only thing she liked about her appearance, the smooth texture with hidden silver highlights.

“Look at me while you undress me”

With a shaky breath, she nodded as her hands moved to unlace his breeches, tugging down just below where his stones ended until the garment pooled at his feet. A part of her felt grateful it was him she was looking and not his throbbing parts.

Aemond was determined to peak again, seeing his red faced maidservant so obedient and frightened before him. It almost made him want to reward her with either his fingers or tongue or mayhaps both.

But she wasn’t here for a reward. She was unbefitting for such a thing. It was because of her whore like behavior akin to the sordid ones in the Silk of Street that filthy stableboy had his eyes already set on her.

And he can not have that happening.

Without further warning, she feels two of his fingers ruthlessly being shoved at the back of her throat. He gives her no time to settle what he was doing to her as his long digits begin to pump in and out of her at an outrageous pace that involuntarily makes her eyes produce tears.

Above her, she hears her prince hum with a dark look in his eye that sends shivers down her spine. She shouldn’t be enjoying this, it was wrong. This act, along with the various ones from previous nights and mayhaps the forthcoming ones, were suitable for a married woman and her husband. Not a prince and his maidservant. She stood to gain nothing from this.

“This mouth is mine” Aemond breathlessly whispered as his fingers curled in a come hither motion, her lips kissing his knuckles. At his words, she lets out a series of sobs loud enough for Aemond to tug her head back in distaste.

“What? Do you have something to say in the matter? Do you not think you belong to me?”

She shut her eyes, flinching at the sonority of his voice, thinking by doing that he would go away dissatisfied and search for someone to take her place.

But her silence only seemed to anger him more.

“Fucking answer me, byka līve!” he yells close to her ear.

For the first time since her counting, she spoke with a shaking voice. “Y-y-yes, Your Grace”

“Yes what? Hmm?”

She gasps and opens her eyes feeling her prince’s fingers twist and pinch her covered hard nipple, “I’m- I’m yours, my prince”

“You don’t sound so convinced that you are, byka līve” he licks his lips before tutting. Such a sound made her feel alarmed and more frightened. “Do I need to remind you, again?” Aemond asks, bringing his hand to his manhood.

As familiarized as she was with his nakedness, she could not help to invite herself to look at all of him. Centimeters close to her face, stood his very erect cock, thick and heavy as she saw last, skin pulled back to reveal his needy red tip with mix remnants of arousal and spend.

It brought her shame and disgust the way her core seemed to long and yearn for the fullness he brought upon her.

Aemond, frustrated in her lack of words, taps the tip of his cock on her bottom lip before he shoves his way into her warm mouth. He could feel his maidservant whine uncomfortably from only taking half of him. Fucking weak whore. Aemond cursed to himself. He knew she could take more, she had done so before.

“Fuck”

Her chest heaves rapidly trying to keep her air supply to the best she can and opening her mouth wider to make it easier for her to suit his thickness since it had been a while since his cock rested around her lips. Her prince, as of late, preferred to be inside her walls in all the hours of the day and night. In that order.

Once the one eyed prince was certain her mouth had accommodated his size, he took no more time yanking her head down sheathing every inch to the back of her throat, sighing in pleasure.

The vibrations of her whimpers spurred Aemond on as his hips started to thrust in and out of her lips, slowly at first to enjoy the soft ridges that her throat had to offer and her tongue. Seven Hells, her tongue instinctively raising up whenever his tip rested there for a second, making him forget the reason why he was doing this in the first place. Her punishment.

“Are–you…fuck– starting to fucking remember who you b-belong to, byka līve? Hmm?” Aemond asked, wrapping his hand around her throat to feel the bulge of his cock sliding in and out.

“Y-yes” she forces out through the tightness of her throat, trails of drool escaping the corners of her mouth. Aemond darkly laughs and moans at her response as his hips hasten their speed, chasing his nearing peak.

“Good girl” he coos, his eye looking down at her flushed face. “My good sweet girl” —thrust— “I’m going to cum on your face” (a/n: listen to this tiktok if you want to hear him say it lol xD okay byeee)

She has no time to react as she feels hot ropes of his seed spurting all across her face. From her eyes to her cheeks and lips she feels it all.

She hears her prince groan, as he pumps his cock faster feeling his second release coming again.

And this time she knew to tilt her away to not get any more on her eyes or her hair. She heard stories from other maids that a man’s seed would knot into hair, making it impossible to get rid of. She didn’t know if it was true or not but she did not want to take her chances.

“Just as I was beginning to think to reward you” He hissed, pulling her to stand. She whimpers, her head hot and spinning from getting up too fast.

The raged prince spins his maidservant around, using the dagger Cole gifted him for his fourteenth nameday to rip through her night shift right below the dimples of her arse. The temperature of his chambers, which wasn’t too cold nor warm, caused the little hairs around on her body to raise.

She tried to cover her bareness with her hands, whatever could fit on her palms. Since the beginning of their coupling, Aemond commanded her that she was to keep her shift on, only slightly raised to her hips. Not that she had any complaints, but it made her truly wonder why he’d be bare and not her.

“This” Aemond cups her soaked mound, “Cunt is mine. Mine only to fuck and to do whatever I please. It’s not some filthy– dolt stableboy’s” He growls next to her.

She parts open her lips at the realization that he was the heated gaze she felt on her back when she was discussing with Linus at the outer yard. She should have known her prince would be there training every morning like he always was. But it must have slipped her mind somehow.

Aemond scowls, “I saw you, byka līve. Saw you speaking to him and letting him touch you. Saw him leave your room”

She doesn’t get the chance to reply; to tell him that what he saw was not what it looked like. But her tongue was caught between her teeth before he roughly drags her body to slightly bend her over by his dressing mirror, giving himself a few vigorous pumps as he watches his proud work dripping on his pretty maidservant’s face.

“Please, my prince. It isn’t…oh!” Feeling him enter in one sharp thrust deep, she gasps at the sudden fullness. There wasn’t any part of her that was empty, her cunt felt so deliciously stuffed to the brim.

“It isn’t what? Are you telling me that my eye deceived me?” He asks in a strain voice, trying to hold his authority over her whilst controlling his sounds of pleasure. “Did I or did I not see you fucking laughing with him or—Seven Hells—letting his dirty little fingers touch you? Must I remind you it is a grave offense to lie to your prince, byka līve?”

White hot pleasure runs deep inside her belly as his thrusts quicken to get an answer from her yet she struggles to keep her composure. “N-no, my prince, Linus came t-t-to meee. He said I had a ladybug on my hair and—” she rolls her head back to rest on his shoulder feeling her peak coming closer and closer. “Said I was pretty b-but, my prince—”

Wanting to hear no more of this, Aemond stopped his movements, much to his dismay, wrapping his hand around her throat so tightly she knew it would bruise like the other times he took her from the same exact position.

“Oh, he called you pretty did he? I wonder what he’ll think now with my spend on your face”

Fear and embarrassment wormed itself to her body. She did not want anyone to see her this way, exposed, bare, and being fucked by the prince of the Queen’s second eldest son. Soon enough when the time came when she was no longer useful to him, she thought about lying to her future husband–if she ever met one worthy of taking her far away from King’s Landing–persuading him she was still pure, not touched by a possessive prince.

“No please, my prince” She protested as Aemond grabbed the small little bell that was used to call in a Kingsguard.

He ignored her pleas not even attempting to hide her nakedness or her pearly white soaked face as Ser Arryk walked into the chamber being instructed to bring Linus from the stables.

“Hush, byka līve” He cooed behind her, repositioning his cock back into her entrance. Any moment longer, he felt like his cock would explode from another release being denied. “Now, I might not let him in but only if you do not hide your sounds”

She nods to the vigorous deep thrusts Aemond sets in, feeling more of her slick dripping down her thighs, aiding to the heavy slapping sound of their sex coming as one. She arched her back against Aemond’s chest, releasing mixes of intense pants and moans, gazing at the way Aemond’s face scrunches from bliss through the mirror.

“Give it to me” Aemond groans, feeling his maidservant’s cunt flutter and clench around him. A sign that her peak was forthcoming. He snakes his hand down to her bud and curses loudly at how wet she was.

She is a whore. Aemond thinks as he circles the bundle of nerves.

At this, she gives Aemond a series of loud cries that she knew would be heard throughout the Keep. And in the morrow the castle would be surrounded with heavy gossip of who the lewd sounds belonged to and who caused them.

“Gods, fuck!”

Aemond smiled through the mirror, fucking her through her peak until he too began to yell out in ecstasy. His seed spilling deep into her womb.

After their breaths settled, two loud knocks followed by the voice of Ser Arryk caused her to look at her prince in panic, hoping he’d dismiss them since she did what he asked her to do.

“Come,” Aemond loudly announced, grabbing a cup of Pentoshi wine from his dinner table, ignoring the sobbing pleas from his maidservant.

She tried to back away, desperately needing to shield herself away but that only caused the silver prince to tut and shake his head as a warning.

The door shut loudly behind Linus as he came into the chambers, slowly and unsure why he was being called into the Prince’s chambers at this hour when he should be sleeping.

“Linus, is it?” Aemond questioned, even though he knew the answer.

Linus averts his gaze from the Prince’s nakedness, and nods. “Y-yes, my prince, if it pleases you”

“Well, Linus. I am in need of your opinion, and I want you to be honest with me. Do you think that she looks glorious—pretty even, with my cum on her face?”

She can not bring herself to look at the red headed man she considered a friend, knowing that the loud silence lingering around confirmed that he did not find her pretty like he had called her, hours ago.

In fact, no one would ever find her pretty now. She was ruined and now a whore, like her mother had been when she too was seduced by a prince.

a/n: if requested ill release two parts of this (one when aemond meets her and another for what happens next lol)

taglist: @ramsip @silentf @thenightmistress @dixie-elocin @namelesslosers @watercolorskyy @seabasscevans @fullmoonworshipper @dreaming-for-an-escape @marvelescvpe @omgisrdj @gigi-panecillo @laureeedn @kittendoll05

bold is who I couldn't tag!

if you wish to be tagged in my general taglist go here!

#aemond targaryen #dark aemond targaryen #dark aemond x reader #aemond x reader #one shot #maybe??#aemond targaryen x oc #lol I need sleep its 8am #ewan mitchell #prince aemond #Spotify

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runningmunson · 2 years

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My Fierce Lady

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.4k Summary: You are the second wife of Aemond, him already having a daughter. When a man tries to attack, you defend yourself and his daughter. Aemond makes it there after the attack and comforts you. Warnings: Swearing, violence, brief mention of pregnant reader, man attacking reader, murder, blood, assumption of attempted r*pe, angry/protective aemond, angst

PART 2

You were the second wife of Aemond Targaryen. His first wife died soon after she gave birth to their daughter, Maelehra. As terrible as it sounded, he wasn’t that heartbroken over her death but sad for Mae. He didn’t want to marry her, and they never truly got along, only doing it to please his parents and to perform his duty.

They gave him some time until his mother decided it was enough. She believed he needed a new wife and for his now 4-year-old daughter to have a mother once more. His mother chose you to marry her second son. You were from a smaller noble house and known for your timid and kind nature; a perfect match to balance out the blunt and confrontational Targaryen.

You had been married for close to a year. While your and Aemond's relationship had slowly blossomed into love, you quickly grew close to his young daughter. Your favorite thing to do together was to practice your needlework while she sat and watched, which led you to today.

Aemond had been gone since the morning, leaving you to entertain the girl. It was a colder day, so you decided to stay inside your chambers close to the fire. Maelehra played with toys on the floor while you sat and stitched a flower. The sound of banging on the door drew your attention.

Unexpectedly, an unknown man with dirty clothes and greasy hair threw the door open and looked all around the room before he caught the sight of the both of you.

“What is the meaning of this? You will tell me who you are right this instant,” You questioned the man who barged into the room. The glint of silver armor caught your eye as you noticed the guard stationed outside your room was slumped against the wall. Your blood ran cold.

You stood from your seat and grabbed Mae by her shoulders as you shoved her behind you. You may not have birthed her, but you have come to claim her as your own, and you would die before you let anyone harm Aemond’s daughter. “You stay away from us, I am warning you. Leave now, and you may yet get out with your life.”

The man chuckled. His lips turned to a sick smile as he twisted a dagger in his hands. He moved closer to you. “How helpless do you think the young prince will feel when he finds his daughter, wife, and unborn child dead in his own chambers?”

“Run, Maelehra!” You screamed at her as the man charged at the both of you. He held out the dagger, making a long slice from your cheekbone to your chin. You let out a cry. Mae dashed toward the open door, but the man was quick enough to grab the collar of her dress. He wrapped his arms around the little girl and picked her up.

You grabbed a heavy goblet and smashed him on the head. The man let go of Mae, and she ran out the door. You took this moment of distraction to go for the dagger your husband kept on his bedside table.

You were about to reach it when you were thrown onto the bed. The man turned you on your back, putting his weight on you so you couldn’t move. You tried to scream for help, but his hand found your throat silencing you. He began to tear your dress while his hand tightened his grip.

You started to see black, no air able to reach your burning lungs. Tears clouded what you could see. This was how you would die, being defiled and strangled by a man you didn’t know.

In another part of the Red Keep, Maelehra searched for help and managed to come upon her grandmother, the Queen, and Ser Criston Cole. She told them a man was hurting you, and that was all it took for them to run to your aid. They called a servant boy over to go find Aemond.

Your mind went to your husband. No- this was not the way you would die. You kicked and scratched at the man, not wanting to go down without a fight. With what little strength you had left, you reached for the dagger, fingertips barely able to touch the cold steel. You finally managed to get a hold of it and slammed it right into the man’s neck.

He immediately let go. Blood poured from his neck and mouth. You could hear a gurgling sound as you shoved him off you. His body fell to the floor with a thud.

Criston and Alicent ran into the room to find you on all fours on the bed attempting to catch your breath. The Queen let out a scream when she saw the dead man. She rushed to you when she saw the blood all over your dress and hands, thinking the worst, “My gods! Go get the maester!”

---

“Prince Aemond! Come quick! Something happened to your daughter and Lady (Y/N),” the servant boy ran out into the courtyard where Aemond and Aegon were practicing their fighting.

Without thinking, Aemond grabbed his sword from its previous place on the ground. He followed the servant boy out the door before sprinting past him once he realized where he was going. Aegon followed close behind.

He reached his chambers to see a dead guard on the ground. When he walked into the room, he frantically searched for his daughter, finding her in his mother's arms. He ran to her and pulled her into a hug.

“She saved me, papa,” Mae yelled excitedly, still too young to understand the gravity of the situation.

“She hasn’t spoken a word, and she will not stop looking at him,” Alicent said to her son, looking toward your place on the bed. He turned around to look at you for the first time. Sure enough, your eyes were trained on the dead man who lay on the floor, blood pooling around his body. He handed his daughter over to his mother and walked to where you sat. He yelled out, venom dripping in his voice, "I will have the head of whoever plotted this heinous attack!"

“Move out of the way,” he said forcefully to the maester looking you over. The maester stepped aside so Aemond could take his place. He grabbed your face tilting it toward his own, “Don’t look at him, look at me.”

You tore your gaze away to meet the eye of your beloved husband. “Aemond,” you croaked out, your bruised throat sore when you spoke. You began to sob, finally allowing yourself to process what just happened “I-I killed him.”

“Shhh, I know. Just let it all out, I have you now,” Aemond said. He took a good look at your disheveled state. Anger seared through his veins when he saw your dress torn and bruising on your thighs. His jaw was clenched, “Did he…”

Aemond couldn't even finish his question; he was seething. You shook your head no, knowing exactly what he was asking. He pulled you close, hand stroking your hair. He could feel you shaking and saw the dagger still tightly in your hand. He pried your fingers away, letting it fall to the ground with a clatter.

He turned to the maester, “Is she alright? And the babe?”

“Yes, other than that cut and the bruising on her neck and legs, they both appear to be fine,” the maester answered.

“I don’t wish to be in this room any longer, please,” you spoke quietly, pleading to your husband. He nodded his head and slowly helped you up. His body was placed in a way to make sure that you could not take a glance at the man who attacked you.

Once you were cleaned and settled in another room, you made your way to the bed, exhausted and sore from the events.

“Im proud of you. You were very brave today, my fierce lady,” Aemond said, pulling you tighter in his arms. His hand found its way to your swollen midsection; a feeling of comfort washed over the both of you as you felt the child squirming around.

“I don’t feel very brave. I was terrified I was going to die, terrified that you were going to lose your children and wife in a single day. What if they come back?” Your voice wavered out of fear.

“I will not allow that to happen; do you understand me? I wouldn’t have been so merciful to give him a quick death. I will kill anyone who lays a hand on any of you. You are mine to protect, now and forever,” Aemond kissed your forehead, holding you until you drifted off to sleep safe and sound while he stayed awake with nothing but vengeance on his mind.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen

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domjaehyun · 2 years

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PL4YG1RL IS LIVE…

“are you lonely? are you stressed out? you deserve some fun. get your headphones, lock up the bedroom door, log on.” — PL4YG1RL, LOLO ZOUAÏ

PAIRING(S). na jaemin x fem!reader GENRE(S). thriller/suspense, yandere, smut, angst WORD COUNT. 20.6k WARNINGS. noncon, stalking, kidnapping, violence, mentions of blood, explicit smut (protected sex, unprotected sex, forced breeding, oral (receiving), nipple play (receiving), masturbation (male & female), defiling of a stuffed animal, fingering, i think that’s it) SUMMARY. you’re an up-and-coming camgirl, and na jaemin is a loyal supporter of your work–that is, until jaemin decides to take things to the next level. PLAYLIST. PL4YG1RL - Lolo Zouaï, ALL MINE - Brent Faiyaz, ALL UP IN YOUR MIND - Beyoncé, Can I - Kehlani, Menace - Dounia

NOTES. hello… don’t crucify me. this is for halloween :) *insert obligatory “i don’t think these people are actually like this” statement that will protect me from anon hate* *insert compulsory “read the warnings and don’t come for me about content i warned you about” statement that will also protect me from anon hate*

if you read this fic, you assume full responsibility for consuming the content below, whether you read the warnings or not.

Saturday night, and Jaemin has nothing to do.

He sends a text to his group chat to see what they're up to before remembering it’s well past midnight. Rubbing a hand over his face, Jaemin pulls his laptop toward his body and onto his stomach. His fingers move of their own accord, typing in his favorite adult entertainment website and waiting as it loads.

Index and middle fingers lazily scrolling through the copious amounts of explicit videos, Jaemin sighs heavily before an ad for a cam girl website catches his eye. A moment of hesitation, then a click takes him to the webpage, the background a lovely shade of pink as all the elements of the page load.

Jaemin is met with thumbnails of pretty girls in various states of undress, but no one is scratching the itch he has which is building up inside of him. A banner drops down from the top of the screen, attracting Jaemin’s attention.

PrettyKitty345 is now live.

Out of curiosity, he clicks, and the screen buffers for a moment before loading up a pretty girl with dark brown hair gazing seductively into the camera. Jaemin lingers for a moment until she speaks, her voice a perfect match for the sultry look she’s giving the viewers.

Jaemin’s not into that, really. He likes them a little less deliberate, more effortlessly pretty. He clicks away and another banner comes down as if enticing Jaemin to stay on the website just a bit longer.

FunBunny is now live.

Another curious click brings Jaemin to the live feed of another pretty girl with white bunny ears on, whose voice is high and soft, a blatant contrast to PrettyKitty345 from earlier. Her performance is a bit too…childlike for Jaemin’s taste, discomfort swirling in his belly as he clicks away.

PL4YG1RL is now live.

Jaemin sighs. He clicks—out of boredom, he tells himself—to enter the live feed. The second the screen finishes loading, Jaemin freezes in surprise.

You are quite literally the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

Sitting up slowly, Jaemin moves the laptop to rest between his legs as he studies your setup carefully.

“Hello, pretty girl,” Jaemin whispers, his throat suddenly feeling dry. “Where did you come from?”

You’re sitting on your heels on your bed, wearing a lacy pink slip dress and a sweet, kind expression. Jaemin can practically feel the warmth radiating from your gaze, and he wets his lips as he sits forward, waiting for you to speak.

“Hi, everyone,” you say, and Jaemin’s eyes squeeze shut as he groans in ecstasy.

You’re perfect. Your voice is every bit as lovely as you look, and there’s something so genuine about the way you carry yourself on camera that has Jaemin falling rapidly.

“How is everyone doing? Have you all had a good day today?” you ask, and Jaemin scrambles to reply, a window popping up that blocks the chat.

“‘You will need an account to participate in the live chat’—oh, fuck.” Jaemin mumbles, opening a new window and quickly signing up with the website. It asks for a payment option so you can send tips, so Jaemin brings his laptop with him to his coat pocket in the foyer of his house, fumbling single handedly with taking out his wallet and pulling out a card.

Meanwhile, you’re reading through the responses coming in from the chat. “You’ve had a bad day, NiceGuy19? I’m sorry to hear that,” you frown and Jaemin’s heart clenches at how cute you are. He finishes inputting his credit card information and the window preventing him from typing in the chat box disappears.

NaJaem13: had a good day

NaJaem13: was feeling kinda bored though

He makes his way back to his bedroom, climbing onto his bed and setting the laptop back down.

“NaJaem13, you’re bored? I’m kinda bored, too.” you hum, and Jaemin feels a fluttering in his chest. “Maybe we could entertain each other,” you propose, a playful smile curling your lips, and Jaemin decides in that exact moment that he’s sticking around in this stream until it’s over.

NaJaem13: sounds good :)

Jaemin watches, content, as you make conversation with other patrons, and when you start playing soft R&B music in the background and swaying to the music with a pleasant smile, tips start to come in.

First it’s 20 tokens, which, Jaemin quickly searches up, is barely anything. Your eyes light up, however, and you thank the tipper gratefully.

Next comes 50 tokens, and it’s almost as if it’s a competition between the bidders, Jaemin watching in silent awe as the numbers increase to 75, 100, 150, 200– You can barely thank the donors quickly enough, a delighted laugh tumbling off your tongue that has Jaemin’s heart soaring.

Jaemin thanks his lucky stars that he just got paid this Thursday, and with a few clicks of his trackpad, he tips you 350 tokens.

“Thank you so much, NaJaem13!” You smile widely, bouncing slightly in place with excitement. Jaemin’s heart clenches; he’d do anything for that smile.

NiceGuy19: how much to take your dress off?

Jaemin can’t help but bristle at how forward “NiceGuy” is. Your brows raise in intrigue as you read through the chat, replying as best as you can to the messages coming in.

“NiceGuy19, if you’d like me to start taking clothes off, I have my goals for tonight on the display next to my feed,” you say politely.

Sure enough, Jaemin looks at the text to the left of your feed and sees that there are options to have you remove your dress, underwear, bra, dance around, play with a vibrator, dildo, or other sex toys, and Jaemin’s brain honestly fizzles out at the options asking you to do more. His mind is reeling thinking about his hands on your hips, moving you from position to position—

Jaemin’s hand finds his length before he even knows it, fingers gripping the thick base of his shaft and pumping his fist up and down.

Tips start escalating in value, the counter of tips received going up and nearing the numbers listed in your goals, and Jaemin hisses in delight when you run your hand up from your lap and over your breast to fix your hair casually. When you move to sit cross-legged on the bed, Jaemin catches a flash of your light pink underwear before you press your dress down between your legs and smile demurely.

Jaemin’s hand speeds up, pumping his length in his fist rapidly as he daydreams about stripping you of your dress, running his hand over the lace of your underwear and toying with you until a pretty little damp spot appears in the seat of them. Then he’d pull them down your legs slowly, revealing your bare core, and tuck himself under your thighs, bringing his face level to your glistening—

Jaemin’s cumming before he even knows it, his release spurting out and landing on his shirt before the last drops dribble down his fist; he keeps going, however—fucking his hand slowly until he can’t bear it anymore and releasing himself with a shudder and a tensing of his abdomen that borders on painful.

Catching his breath, Jaemin watches you in a daze, eyes heavy-lidded as they drink in the sight of you. He studies your face, admiring your lips—

How he wishes to see those pretty lips wrapped around his fingers or his cock. How he’d love to watch them moan his name as he pleases you.

He watches your eyes—

So sweet and unsuspecting; he wants to watch those pretty eyes glaze over when he turns you into a pretty, drooling mess. He’d love to see your eyes all glossy with tears when he breaks you into the perfect little fuckdoll for him.

Your neck—

His hands itch to wrap around your neck, squeeze until you’re gasping for air, and release you not a moment too soon, lips littering kisses all over the heated skin as you desperately suck in fresh gulps of air.

He wants to fucking ruin you—destroy you, break you, make you his and utterly his alone. The desire is building, and it’s building rapidly—Jaemin has never felt this way before.

His gaze drops to your legs, lifts to your breasts, runs over your body eagerly—

His tongue gliding over the swell of your breasts, fingers digging into your thighs greedily, hot and hungry—ripping off your clothes and revealing you to him, raw, bare, vulnerable; he wants you utterly exposed so he can take you for himself. Ruin any other man for you, have his name on the tip of your tongue every time you climax, memories of his touch ghosting over your most sensitive places at any given moment—

The rest of your live is short—technical difficulties cause you to have to end the stream earlier than expected with a precious frown and sweet, sincere apology—but you promise to see everyone again at the same time on Tuesday night, and Jaemin already knows he’ll be there because he’s sure of one thing, and one thing only.

Jaemin wants you—and he wants you bad.

You check your reflection in the camera one last time before sitting back and clicking the live button. Casually scrolling through your phone, you wait for viewers to come in, adjusting the light pink slip you’re wearing.

NiceGuy19: hi playgirl

“Hi, NiceGuy19,” you say with a smile, looking into the camera as you speak next. “Are you doing alright tonight?”

NiceGuy19: doing so well now that you’re live

“Oh, thank you,” you chuckle bashfully.

A few more comments start to roll in as your live picks up traction, and you do your best to answer each one, giving everyone the attention they’re requesting.

A familiar handle pops up and you can’t help but smile.

“Hi, NaJaem13,” you smile just a bit wider, wanting to really cater to the user who gives the most generous tips. “It’s nice to see you again.”

NaJaem13: couldn’t stay away from you

“You’re so smooth,” you laugh, amused by his boldness. “You must have broken a lot of hearts, huh?”

NaJaem13: maybe a few

“I missed you last week,” you pout at the camera, and several tips come in. “You left me.”

NaJaem13: won’t happen again

NaJaem13: i promise

He can promise anything he wants as long as the tips keep coming in. You smile at his response and proceed to give your other tippers attention—they paid for a show and you’ll give them one.

You’re still playing it up for the camera, answering a few more questions and thanking the tippers, when a hefty tip and a comment by NaJaem13 catch your eye.

NaJaem13: wish i could have you to myself

You can’t help but raise a brow in intrigue, silently hoping he’s as attractive as he seems.

“NaJaem13, you can always book me for a private show,” you offer, pointing to the left of your screen at the drop down list of booking options.

NaJaem13: my name is Jaemin btw

“Nice to meet you, Jaemin,” you coo, giving a small wave to the camera.

A banner notification drops down on your screen and you read the words curiously.

NiceGuy19 has requested a private show.

You mask your disappointment—that wasn’t exactly who you were aiming for, but it’s still a good thing—and click ‘Accept,’ the time of the show taking you by surprise.

You’re not sure if NiceGuy19 and NaJaem13—Jaemin, you think; his name is Jaemin—are in some sort of competition, but it doesn’t seem like a coincidence that he booked you for a show for the duration of the time you would be on live…right after you offered a private show to Jaemin.

You actually don’t fully care if they’re beefing or whatever—the money in your pocket is taking no sides—so you just flash a regretful smile at the camera, fixing your hair.

“I’m sorry, everyone, but I have a private show scheduled for right now; I have to cut the live short.” you frown apologetically, and several responses, ranging from sad to annoyed to understanding, flood the chat. “I know, guys, I’m sorry, truly. I’ll be here next week for sure, okay?”

NiceGuy19: see you in a minute ;)

NaJaem13: have fun NiceGuy

NaJaem13: have a good night playgirl :)

“You too, Jaemin,” you hum kindly, giving one last wave before turning off the camera.

Things escalate the following week when Jaemin decides he isn’t about to let NiceGuy19 swoop in and steal you away again.

After a couple of moments of futzing around on the website page, Jaemin finds the link to book you for a private session and fumbles through the process with excited fingers. He books you for tonight, right after your public show, and sits back in excitement as he waits for his time alone with you.

PL4YG1RL has accepted your request for a private show.

His phone lights up, likely a confirmation from his banking app that the transaction went through, and Jaemin can’t help but wince at the steep deduction his account’s going to be hit with.

It’s worth it, though, because he gets you.

After what feels like ages, your show finally ends and the display goes black. A buffering symbol appears on the screen, only heightening his anticipation for you.

After a couple of minutes, your screen loads and Jaemin is practically blown away by your beauty.

Yes, he just saw you, but he’ll never get tired of watching you.

“Hi, NaJaem,” you hum, smiling. “My favorite viewer—how are you tonight?”

Jaemin’s mouth goes dry as he sits forward to type out a reply.

NaJaem13: i’m better now that you’re here

NaJaem13: how’s my favorite girl doing?

“Your favorite girl? Stop, you’ll make me shy,” you laugh, and Jaemin smiles widely even though you can’t see him.

NaJaem13: i like you shy

NaJaem13: it’s cute

“You’re such a charmer,” you giggle. “Is there something you’d like me to do for you tonight?”

Jaemin thinks for a minute; he didn’t fully have a plan—he just wanted you all to himself for a night.

You’re patient while he thinks, humming a soft tune to yourself, and Jaemin marvels at just how lovely you are.

His eyes land on something almost out of frame, and he smiles.

NaJaem13: is that a stuffed animal?

Your head cocks to the side in confusion and Jaemin coos affectionately, finding you adorable. You look around you, your eyes lighting up in recognition as you pull a large teddy bear onto the screen from out of frame.

“Yes, it is!” you chirp, and Jaemin wets his lips with his tongue before typing out another message.

NaJaem13: i want you to ride that teddy bear until you cum

NaJaem13: can you do that for me?

Your eyes widen as you look from the screen to the stuffed animal in your hands and back to the screen. Nibbling your lower lip pensively, you nod, and Jaemin could just burst with excitement. You bring your setup to your bed before lying the bear down and straddling it. You start to rock your hips against the tan plushie, your brows furrowing in concentration, and Jaemin watches you with hungry eyes, his hand moving to palm himself through his sweats.

NaJaem13: just like that, angel

NaJaem13: doing so good

You whimper as your eyes flick to the screen, and he groans in delight, squeezing himself harder and starting to stroke himself.

NaJaem13: how does it feel?

“So good,” you exhale shakily, and he grunts, pushing into his boxers and gripping his length, hot and heavy, at the base.

NaJaem13: you look so pretty right now

NaJaem13: can you say my name, angel?

“Jaemin,” you moan, rocking onto the stuffie more eagerly. Your hands move from the bed to graze up your legs and torso until they’re cupping your breasts, squeezing them and shuddering with pleasure. “Jaemin, I think I’m close.” Your words come out as breathy pants that have Jaemin’s hand eagerly speeding up as he pumps his fist up and down his cock.

NaJaem13: good

NaJaem13: keep going baby. just like that

“Jaemin, can I cum?” you ask, desperation all over your face, and Jaemin nods vigorously, feeling his own climax approach, before realizing that you can’t see him.

NaJaem13: you can cum, angel

NaJaem13: cum for nana

“Nana,” you plead in a broken whine, and Jaemin watches in awe as your rocking speeds up—he tries to match the pace with his hand—and your head tips back as your climax hits. Whimpers fall from your lips freely until you bite your lip to stifle the sounds—an action, Jaemin notes, that he wishes you hadn’t done.

You are, without a doubt, the most mesmerizing sight he’s laid his eyes on in ages, and Jaemin’s climax comes rushing in without a moment’s hesitation.

Jaemin’s cock throbs in his hand and his eyes shut tightly as he thrusts up into his hand, cum spilling from the slit and dribbling down his fist, warm and wet and white.

“God, fuck,” he groans in delight, eagerly sitting forward to study you closely. You’re still straddling the stuffed animal, and your eyes are visibly glazed over even through the computer screen. There’s a beautiful lazy, content smile on your lips, and Jaemin wishes he could take you in his arms and kiss your smile over and over again.

NaJaem13: you are so beautiful

NaJaem13: you did such a good job

“Jaemin, please, all this praise is getting to my head,” you joke, grinning bashfully, and he can’t help but chuckle fondly.

NaJaem13: good

NaJaem13: you deserve it

NaJaem13: wish i could see that pretty smile in person

You look away shyly, smiling and there’s a moment that passes in which Jaemin realizes you’re debating on whether or not to say something.

NaJaem13: what’s wrong?

“Nothing, actually,” you say sincerely, and Jaemin hums in intrigue. “I just wanted to let you know that I have some in-person slots—”

Holy shit.

NaJaem13: i’ll be sure to book one with you

“Oh—awesome,” you reply, smiling sweetly. Jaemin’s heart could burst right now and he’d die a happy man. “The link is that way,” you explain, pointing to the left of the screen, and sure enough, there’s a series of links, one titled “Book a Session.”

NaJaem13: found it

You shoot him a thumbs up before looking off-screen for a moment, whatever you lay eyes on making you frown cutely. “I’m sorry, but we only have about three more minutes together tonight.”

NaJaem13: don’t worry about it

NaJaem13: get some sleep

Jaemin sends you a generous tip, your eyes widening in surprise when it shows up on your screen.

“Thank you, Jaemin,” you say gratefully, a shocked but pleased smile on your pretty lips. “Hopefully I see you again soon.”

NaJaem13: you will

You wave for a moment, then the screen goes black and a message shows up on the screen.

Your session with PL4YG1RL has ended.

Jaemin doesn’t want to let you book with anyone else; not after having you all to himself. He clicks the link you pointed to a moment ago, impatiently drumming his fingers on the keyboard as it loads, and the new page shows a calendar with appointment slots highlighted. Jaemin books the earliest available appointment for Tuesday at 4:00pm and sits back excitedly as the confirmation page loads.

Your appointment has been booked. Please check your email for your confirmation and further instructions.

Jaemin navigates to his email and reads over the list of stipulations. They seem standard and easy enough—like submitting a clean and recent STI test update—and a set of rules during the session—like always wearing a condom—and Jaemin scrolls and scrolls and scrolls some more until he sees the address you’re supposed to meet up at, and he smiles widely, saving it to his notes.

Three days until Jaemin meets the object of his affections. Jaemin feels like a child on Christmas Eve—well, the eve of Christmas Eve’s eve. He can hardly wait.

Jaemin sits in the hotel lobby, knee bouncing nervously as he waits for you. He scans the faces of everyone who enters the lobby curiously, his heart falling in disappointment when none of them are you.

You’re not late, Jaemin’s just early—and eager.

As a matter of fact, you walk in right on time, more beautiful than ever in a cute blouse and skirt combination. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so excited in his life.

He stands up and walks over to you, smiling when you two lock eyes.

“Jaemin?” you say curiously, and he nods, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

He is beyond handsome, you think. You got lucky.

“Hey,” he replies, stepping a bit closer to you.

“Hi,” you parrot, admittedly taken aback by how attractive he is. “Are you, um, ready to go up?”

“I was actually thinking we could…hang out, kind of.” Jaemin says carefully, scanning your face for any sort of negative reaction.

“Oh?” you ask. “Like a date?”

“Yeah!” he confirms. “Like a date.”

“Okay,” you agree, smiling at the prospect of a date with him.

“We can go out to a café or restaurant, maybe? Only if you want. It’d be my treat.” he proposes, and your smile widens. He’s cute when he’s nervous.

“Sounds good to me.”

He grins and offers you his arm, your brows raising in an impressed surprise at his manners as you take it, the two of you heading towards the front door.

“So tell me about yourself, Jaemin,” you say, raising an eyebrow curiously. You two sit in a café over drinks and pastries, Jaemin eager to get to know you.

“Oh, uh…I don’t know,” he answers with a chuckle. “I’m in college…I have a brother…”

“Ooh, college?” you ask. “What are you studying?”

“Photography,” he answers, and you let out an impressed hum.

“Very cool,” you say encouragingly. “And you mentioned a brother? Older or younger?”

“Older,” Jaemin replies. “He’s a cop, actually.”

“Oh, wow.” you murmur, intrigued.

“Can I hear more about you?” Jaemin asks, sitting forward. “What do you like? What do you like to do?”

“Hm,” you muse, looking up in thought. “I like deer,” you finally answer, “and bunnies.”

Jaemin thinks that’s fitting for you.

“I like my job,” you continue. “Meeting all these different people is interesting.”

“Can I ask you a question?” Jaemin’s thoughts won’t stay quiet, urging him to get them off of his chest.

“Shoot.”

“Do you ever fake it?”

“Fake…?” Your head tilts to the side in confusion.

Jaemin already regrets asking. “Um, I mean, like, when you’re with other clients, and you—”

“I know what you mean, Jaemin,” you laugh. “I’m just teasing.”

“Oh, thank God.”

“Off the record? All the time.”

“No way.” Jaemin can’t hide his shock.

“I probably fake it more times than I don’t.” You shrug, and he sits back in surprise.

“And that doesn’t get exhausting for you?”

“I can’t lie, it’s kind of fun to play it up every time.” you murmur conspiratorially, and Jaemin laughs.

You’re playful. You’re letting him know things you don’t tell other people.

There’s definitely something here.

“How do you know they don’t know you’re faking it?” he asks curiously, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“Jaemin.”

“Hm?”

“You really think they care if I finish or not?”

“Oh,” Jaemin mutters. He hadn’t thought about that. “I would care.”

“Oh, yeah?” you hum playfully, nudging his foot with yours under the table. “Well, thank you. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

Jaemin’s heart could give out right now. You’re flirting with him.

“Next time?” he says hopefully. “So I can see you again?”

You give him a small but flirtatious smile. “That’s up to you.”

The first session ends as well as Jaemin could have hoped. You got a little beneath surface level with him, flirted with him, laughed with him—Jaemin thinks you might even be starting to like him.

He saw the way you eyed him when you first met; you’re definitely attracted to him.

So he books you again.

And again.

And…again.

Jaemin can barely keep his eyes off of you. All you’re doing is ordering a drink at the counter, but you’re a vision of beauty in a soft yellow flowing dress, your hair tastefully styled away from your face, and his mind is racing with everything he wants to do to you.

It’s your fourth time together, and Jaemin still hasn’t made a move. He wants you so badly but wants you to want him too, so he’s been trying to get closer to you. He thinks it’s working, actually, because you seem to brighten whenever you catch sight of him.

And all of that is well and good, but it doesn’t solve the problem he’s having right now. The very sight of you has his cock stirring in his pants.

“Are you okay, Jaemin?” you ask curiously, snapping him out of his thoughts. You’re looking at him with furrowed brows of concern, and Jaemin almost feels bad for worrying you.

“I’m alright,” he assures you, leaning forward to pay for your drink, and your face relaxes, the two of you walking over to the other side of the counter to wait for your drink. He stands just behind you, scanning your frame with desiring eyes. When you shift your weight from one foot to the other, a waft of your delicate perfume drifts into his face, and he has to control himself to restrain the groan that builds in his throat.

He decides to make his move—this isn’t how he planned for things to go today, but fuck it—and place his hands on your hips, squeezing you and pulling you closer to him.

“Hi,” you laugh, craning your neck to look back at him.

“Mm,” Jaemin nuzzles into your hair and breathes in the sweet scent of your shampoo. “Hi. You smell so good.”

“Thank you,” you chuckle, leaning back against him.

“And you look even better.” His voice is lower now, more seductive, and you hesitate, his tone piquing your curiosity and stirring up arousal in your stomach.

“T-Thank you,” you mumble, feeling shy now, and it’s Jaemin’s turn to chuckle, nosing past your hair to trail his lips along the shell of your ear. You take in a sharp breath at the somewhat ticklish sensation, your head tilting of its own accord to allow him more access to your neck.

His soft exhale sends warmth fanning over the sensitive area of skin, and you squirm slightly, arousal building as his lips press wet, slow, purposeful kisses down your ear to the spot just behind it.

“Jaemin,” you warn softly, your voice whinier and huskier than you expected it to be. “We can’t do this here.”

He peppers light kisses down your neck until he’s at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, where he gently bites the skin there, relishing the whine you let out.

“I have an iced chai latte with almond milk!” the barista calls, and you move forward to pick it up, only to find yourself restrained by Jaemin’s strong arm anchoring you against him.

“Jaemin,” you whisper, “I have to get the drink.” You can’t help but laugh when he shuffles forwards with you to pick up the cup before you turn around—not without difficulty—in his embrace to face him, your eyes drifting from his darkened, lust-filled ones to his lips and back up. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Do you have any idea how good you look?” he groans, and you blink twice, stunned by the wave of arousal that has overcome him. “That little dress is just tempting me.”

You cock an eyebrow curiously. “Tempting you to do what?”

Jaemin leans in so your lips are barely apart from each other and wets his lips, his gaze dropping to your mouth. “Rip it off of you.” He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, instead closing the distance between you two in a kiss—your first one together—that leaves you reeling. You suck in a breath of air when your lips part, Jaemin immediately pulling you back to him with a deeper kiss, his tongue playing almost lazily with yours. He sucks on your bottom lip and releases you from the liplock when you tap his chest repeatedly to get his attention.

“The hotel down the block,” you murmur against his mouth as he strokes your cheek with his thumb, “the one we met at. I have a room.”

“Let’s go,” he says immediately, linking his fingers with yours and tugging you after him.

You two manage to make it back to the hotel quickly, hustling into the elevator where Jaemin all but pounces on you, pressing you up against the wall as the doors slide shut. The rail behind you digs uncomfortably into your back, but Jaemin’s lips on your neck distract you enough to the point where you no longer care.

“Wanted to do this for so long,” he grunts, sucking at the base of your neck and dragging his teeth along the patch of skin, making you gasp. “You’re so fucking tempting.”

“Jaemin,” you moan, your fingers sliding up his back to curl in his hair at the nape of his neck and tug. “That feels so good.” Desire blooms between your legs, warmth radiating out from your core to the rest of your body as you feel arousal start to leak from you.

“Yeah?” he hums, moving back up to kiss your lips. “Gonna make you feel even better.”

As if on cue, the elevator dings and the doors open on your floor, the two of you quickly making your way down the hall to your hotel room. Jaemin chuckles as you fumble around in your purse for the room key card, finally managing to catch it between your fingers and pull it out victoriously.

You swipe the two of you in, and Jaemin barely lets the door shut before he’s pressing you up against the wall, his thigh slotting between your legs with ease. He threads his fingers in your hair, thumb caressing your jaw, and tilts your head towards him for easier access. His free hand slides around your waist, resting on the small of your back and pulling you closer to him.

“Jaemin,” you pant, pushing at his jacket to get it off of his shoulders and finally discarding it on the floor, “the bed.”

“Can’t I play with you a little bit right here?” he hums teasingly, his hand dropping from your back to hike up the hem of your dress. He strokes up the smooth flesh of your inner thigh and you hiss in pleasure, parting your legs wider for him.

“Yeah,” you exhale, and he grins.

“Mm, yeah?”

“Yes, Jaemin, please?” You sound impatient, and Jaemin smiles at the thought of you as desperate as him.

“Okay, angel,” he acquiesces, slipping his hand up higher until they’re stroking the lace of your underwear. His fingers push the garment aside until he’s taunting you by stroking at your folds which are now slick with arousal, and the whine that spills from your lips is well worth the wait.

“More,” you whisper, and his fingers dip into your wetness immediately, eager to give you everything you want and then some.

“How’s that?” he muses, a playful smile on his lips as two of his fingers push into you, and you cry out in pleasure, gripping his shoulder with one hand to brace yourself as he curls his fingers and starts pumping them inside of you.

“S’good,” you whine, your head tipping back against the wall, and Jaemin presses his lips against yours firmly, startling you.

“I don’t want you faking it,” he urges, and your eyes widen as you nod, having forgotten you told him about that.

“I won’t,” you promise breathlessly, and he smiles, his fingers speeding up inside of you. “Just like that, oh, God—”

“You’re so wet,” he hums, the tip of his tongue flicking at your bottom lip teasingly. “You must really like me.” When your only reply is a plaintive moan, he grins proudly and kisses down to your collarbone, biting it gently as his fingers continue to thrust into you. It’s not too long before his fingers fuck directly into your g-spot and your hips start unconsciously grinding down to get more of him inside of you.

“Jaemin—”

“Nana,” he corrects, suddenly overcome with the need to hear you call him by his nickname.

“Nana—” you moan, “I’m close, I’m so close—”

“Yeah? Are you gonna cum all over my fingers, angel?” he’s practically taunting you, and the anticipation builds in your chest just as your pleasure builds in your lower abdomen.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, yes, please?”

“Cum for me, baby.” Jaemin watches in fascination as you ride his fingers to your climax, your chest pushing into his as your back arches, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen a prettier sight in his life.

When your climax finally subsides, you look at him with pretty, glazed over eyes and a shy yet beguiling smile that has Jaemin wanting to pin you down and make you cum over and over again.

But first, Jaemin has something else on his mind.

“Angel?” Jaemin asks carefully, and you cock your head curiously, waiting for his next words. “Can I feel your mouth around me?”

You don’t say anything, but your smile widens and you sink to your knees, opening his pants teasingly slowly, eyes locked on his until your hand wraps around the thick base of his length.

“You’re so big,” you hum in delight, and Jaemin smiles fondly, the expression dropping off his face abruptly when you exhale warm air over the head of his length, a small laugh falling from your lips when he shudders and he twitches in your hand.

You lay your tongue out flat, blinking up at him before dragging your tongue up his length slowly, swirling it around the tip before wrapping your lips around him and starting to bob your head up and down, your hands stroking at what you can’t yet fit in your mouth.

“God, fuck,” Jaemin grunts, his brows knitting together as you suck him off. You pull off of him and look him directly in the eyes as you let saliva drip off your tongue and onto his length. The wet warmth sliding down his cock only makes Jaemin hiss in pleasure when you resume your actions of sucking and stroking, using the spit as lubricant.

“So good,” he croaks, thrusting forward unconsciously. His cock hits the back of your throat and your throat constricts as you gag slightly, the sensation feeling like bliss to Jaemin. “Shit, sorry,” he apologizes, and you shake your head, pulling off of him.

“Do it again,” you urge, and his brows raise up so high they practically disappear into his hairline.

“You want it, yeah?” He’s breathless, his hand wrapping over yours and aiding you in stroking him. “Angel wants Nana’s cock in her pretty little mouth?”

“Yes,” you say, pouting, and Jaemin feels like his heart could just explode. “Please, Nana?”

“Holy fuck,” he mumbles, awestruck and in heaven. “Anything for you, angel. Open up.” He taps his cock against your lips, grinning when you part them and let your tongue loll out of your mouth. He rubs the head of his length against your tongue for a moment before slowly pushing into your mouth and starting to thrust. The faint wet gagging noises only add to the ambience, Jaemin’s grunts and pants helping to create a lustful soundscape.

“You like when I fuck your pretty little mouth?” he asks, and you nod, whining around him and sending vibrations all down his length. “You are so perfect,” he murmurs, infatuated with the sight of you on your knees for him.

His thrusts speed up until he’s fucking into your mouth with sharp pumps, low groans leaving his lips freely.

You’re taking it like a champ, Jaemin thinks, watching in fascination as your eyes go glassy, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes before they start spilling down your cheeks. You are the prettiest thing he has ever seen, and the realization and wave of adoration he feels has him pulling out of your mouth abruptly.

“On the bed,” he urges, and you oblige, moving to sit at the edge of the bed. He hovers over you, encroaching on your space until you’re on your back, a playful smile on your lips as you look up at him. “Let’s get these off,” he murmurs, hiking up your dress to hook his fingers in your underwear and pull them off your legs. When your glistening core is exposed to him, he groans, pumping his cock in his fist slowly as he adjusts you further up the bed.

Jaemin fishes out the condom he brought from his pants pocket on the floor, ripping the package open and rolling it on impatiently, before he presses his cock against your core, the head nestling between your folds to rest just before your entrance.

He pushes into you slowly, a whoosh of relief leaving his lungs, and you clench around him, mewling at the sensation of him filling you up.

“So big,” you moan, and he leans over you again to capture your lips with his, kissing you sweetly to distract you from the discomfort as it ebbs away.

“You’re so good,” Jaemin mumbles in a daze, silently praying you adjust soon so he can fuck you. “Doing so well.”

“You can move,” you urge him in a soft voice, and he presses another kiss to your lips before straightening his back, draping one of your legs over his shoulder and pulling out to the tip before burying himself in your walls once more.

He quickly builds up a pace that has broken moans falling from your lips and grunts from his, the sounds of skin slapping against skin resonating through the hotel room.

“Feels so good, angel,” Jaemin practically babbles, losing his sensibility the longer he fucks you. “So tight and wet, shit—”

You respond with a flex of your walls around his length that draws an uncharacteristic whimper from him, and he can feel the beginnings of his climax stirring just behind his navel. He brings two fingers to his mouth and withdraws the now spit-slicked digits to bring them to your clit, massaging circles into the sensitive bud.

You’re in bliss as Jaemin stimulates your clit with skillful strokes. He thrusts into you at a different angle than before and your nails dig into the bedspread as his tip kisses your g-spot.

“Oh, my God, right there!” You cry, and he grins smugly, complying and thrusting into the sensitive patch of nerves over and over again as your climax approaches rapidly. “Jaemin—” you plead, rocking back against him desperately.

“Are you gonna cum again, angel?” he coos sweetly, and his grin only widens at your eager nod. “Good; cum for me, baby. Cum all over Nana’s cock.”

Pleasure washes over you in waves as your orgasm rushes through your body, and all you can do is whimper Jaemin’s name over and over as you ride out your high.

“Hang in there, baby, I’m close,” he groans, his thrusts speeding up as he focuses on getting himself to finish. He cums not long after you do, releasing into the condom with a shudder rippling down his spine. He hangs his head as he catches his breath and slowly pulls out of you, tying off the condom and heading to the garbage bin by the side of the bed. “Are you okay?” he asks, and you smile blissfully, nodding.

“I’m great,” you assure him, and he sighs in relief.

“Good,” he replies. “Hold on one second,” he murmurs, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment and returning with a damp washcloth and you giggle as he cleans you up and then himself.

“You’re such a gentleman,” you say, smiling, and he shrugs bashfully. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” he answers softly, lying down on the bed beside you after he’s pulled his boxers back up. “Was that good?” His voice sounds more worried than he planned to let on, but there’s no taking it back now.

“It was amazing, Jaemin,” you reassure him, and he nods, smiling shyly.

Jaemin really thinks this could be something special. He’s sure of one thing—he’s definitely booking you at every available opportunity.

“Girl, where are you headed today?” Yuna laughs incredulously as you start packing up your things.

“I have an appointment.” You smile secretively, and Ryujin sits up from her spot on the couch, a skeptical furrow between her brows.

“With that same guy from earlier this week?” She asks, and you nod. “You do realize that he’s booked you literally every day this week, right?”

“Of course I realize that,” you snort in amusement. “More importantly, my bank account realizes that.”

“You see that guy more times in a week than you do us,” Yuna huffs with a pout, and you mirror her expression sympathetically.

“You’re being dramatic; there’s no way I’ve seen him more than you guys,” you reply, and Yuna rolls her eyes, Ryujin sighing in mild frustration.

“It’s the principle of the thing!” Ryujin exclaims, and you shoot her a look.

“Be for real,” you say flatly. “Think of it like…I work in a diner, and I’m picking up extra shifts.”

“Things must be getting real heated in that diner if he keeps coming back.” Ryujin teases, and you throw the nearest item—a pillow from Yuna’s couch—at her, laughing when it hits its mark.

“You know, he’s actually really good in bed. It’s kind of crazy that he’s single,” you muse thoughtfully. “Besides, sometimes we don’t even have sex.”

“Really?” Ryujin raises her eyebrows in surprise.

“Does he ask you to do kinky fetish stuff, like walk on his back in stilettos?” Yuna asks curiously, and you and Ryujin look at her, bewildered.

“Wh—Where did that even come from?” Ryujin laughs.

“You know, I have actually done that before…but, no, not for him.” You wave off Ryujin’s and Yuna’s intrigued spluttering and continue on with, “I mean, sometimes we just…go get coffee, hang out, watch movies.”

“These just sound like paid dates.” Yuna points out, and you shrug.

“I mean, if he’s paying, he can ask me to do damn near anything, really,” you laugh, and Ryujin snickers.

“Well, we won’t hold you up, okay? Go get that bag!” she chirps, and you blink at her slowly.

“…Stop picking up lingo from TikTok,” you say as your final words before you bid them goodbye with a wave and head out of Yuna’s apartment to go meet up with Jaemin.

“Whose pretty pussy is this?” Jaemin coos at you as he fucks into you, your legs over his shoulders as he presses you into the mattress.

“Yours, Jaemin,” you gasp loudly, and he shoots you that winning smile of his, turning his head to kiss your calf.

“No one fucks you like I do,” Jaemin grunts, cupping your chin with one hand and making eye contact with you. There’s an almost crazed look in his eyes, a wild energy that thrills you to your core. “No one could ever treat this pussy as good as I do.”

“No one,” you whimper in agreement, your mind slipping away as he thrusts into you. “Only you, Jaemin.”

“Love this pussy so much,” he mutters almost to himself, biting down on his bottom lip so hard you can see the pink skin of his lips surrounding his bite turning white. “Wanna keep you for myself—you’re all fucking mine.”

“‘M yours,” you mumble, slurring slightly as the pleasure clouds your brain. “Jaemin, I’m gonna—”

“Come for me, angel,” he urges, and you fall apart around him without waiting another moment, crying his name out loudly as your nails scratch uselessly at the bedsheets. “God, you’re so beautiful,” he groans, his head tipping back in ecstasy before his thrusts grow more erratic and finally come to a stop as he releases into the condom, ragged breaths leaving him.

Jaemin looks down at your figure, bare skin glistening with sweat, your hair all mussed up, and a fucked-out look on your face, and thinks to himself that this must be heaven on Earth, the male never having felt luckier than he does right now.

He pulls out of you carefully, quickly discarding the condom in the bedside trash can, and collapses beside you on the bed, a silence falling over you two as you catch your breath and get your bearings.

As you’re lying there, Ryujin’s and Yuna’s words from earlier come back to you, and a question begins to itch at your throat, begging to be asked. After moments of debating, you bite the bullet and ask.

“Hey, Jaemin?”

“Yeah?”

“How are you affording all these sessions? Aren’t you, like, a college student?” you ask curiously, and the silence that meets your question has you backtracking immediately. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked. It’s not my business—”

“I don’t mind answering,” Jaemin speaks up, and you turn your head to see that he’s already done the same, brown eyes studying your face. “I have money stashed away in my savings, pretty good credit, and my job doesn’t pay too badly.” he answers, and you nod slowly in understanding.

“I hope you’re not blowing your savings on me,” you chuckle, feeling a bit uncomfortable with the notion of him spending his savings on you.

“Don’t worry about me, angel,” he hums. “Besides,” he continues, nudging you gently with his elbow, “I think you’re worth more than every cent.”

Your face warms up at the compliment and you mumble a bashful thank you. “I just don’t want you to land yourself in hot water because of me.”

“Trust me, angel,” Jaemin assures you, “I’m doing perfectly fine.”

So, Jaemin may have lied a bit.

A lot, actually.

Since meeting you, he’s fully blown through his savings—all $5,000 of it—royally fucked up his credit by maxing out his credit cards, borrowed far too much money from his older brother, and has now resorted to…is this embezzlement? Can you even embezzle a mom-and-pop shop?

Jaemin has to admit that he feels a bit guilty, Mrs. Kim’s kind face flashing in his mind as he pockets several bills from the cash register.

But it’s you, with those eyes, and that smile, and that laugh, and it’s you, with that sweet voice and the way you say his name, and—

It’s you.

And Jaemin would do anything for you. Even if it means making some fiscally irresponsible choices and committing a few reprehensible actions, he thinks as he navigates your booking website expertly and schedules another meeting with you for tomorrow afternoon.

Maybe, Jaemin thinks, he’ll take you shopping. He saw you eying a pretty silver bracelet in the window of a jewelry shop when you were walking around together the other day. Maybe he’ll get it for you as a gift.

The first time was an accident. Or at least that’s what Jaemin’s going with.

When he left the hotel room he’d rented for you two, he didn’t expect to see you still in the lobby, the picture of perfection as you look down at your phone, tapping at the screen.

Jaemin conceals himself behind a passing bellhop and his cart when you lift your head up to look around, and it’s almost like a magnet pulls him after you when you exit the building. He makes sure to keep you at a distance, not wanting you to catch him watching you.

Jaemin watches as you walk down the street, slowly following after you. You’re so sweet, so innocent…so unaware.

Someone could just snatch you up and have you at their mercy in a second.

So he’s protecting you. Or, at least, that’s what he’s going with.

Jaemin “protects” you on your walk, not even sure where you’re headed, but when he watches you fish out a set of keys and enter an apartment building, his body lights up with a thrill.

You’re heading home.

Jaemin very tentatively follows you into the large building and practically collapses with relief when you go to the mailboxes and take your mail out. He doesn’t find a way to justify following you up to your apartment, so he just…waits until the doors close on the elevator and walks over to your mailbox, looking at the unit number.

“Found you,” He sighs dreamily. If he inhales deeply enough, he can still smell your light fragrance in the air.

Now, the first time was an accident. The second time was a coincidence.

The third, fourth, and fifth times were anything but.

Jaemin follows you home after every single meeting you two have, evading detection every time. He swears up and down he’s protecting you, making sure no harm befalls you as you travel back to your place.

Sometimes, however, he catches himself entangled in a dark fantasy consisting of you and him and the lovely element of surprise and he can’t help but think that maybe he’s exactly who you would need protection from.

But he’s different, Jaemin thinks. He cares about you. He adores you. He…he loves you.

Plus, you make it too easy, he thinks. Never straying from your usual route home, never sparing a glance over your shoulder; it’s almost like you know he’s watching. Like you know he’s following your every move.

It’s almost like…you want him to follow you. Want him to engage in a little game of cat-and-mouse as he follows you—his prey—back to your place of safety and lies in wait to pounce.

You’re playing with him, Jaemin thinks, because you must have feelings for him too. Hell, you might even love him back.

Jaemin makes up his mind the eighth time he follows you home; nothing is going to stop him from being with you.

“Huh.” You pause when you step out of the elevator, the doors quietly shutting behind you.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin asks, attempting to follow your gaze. “Oh, you have a package!”

“I don’t remember ordering anything, though,” you mumble, heading down the hallway to your front door. You check the package and sure enough, your first name is written on the small box.

“Well, are you gonna take it?” Ryujin watches you turn the package around in your hand.

“I mean…yeah, I guess.” You agree slowly, unlocking your door and heading into your apartment, Ryujin following after you. You set your bag down and immediately turn your attention to the package in your hand. You carefully and gingerly open the brown paper wrapping to reveal a small white box. You take the top off, revealing its interior, and gasp.

“What is it?” Ryujin asks, by your side in a moment as she looks into the box. “Holy shit.”

“Right?”

“That bracelet is beautiful,” Ryujin stammers, “not to mention how expensive it looks.”

You carefully take the silver tennis bracelet out of the box’s protective foam and stare at it in wonder. “It looks so familiar.”

“Put it on!” Ryujin encourages you with a nudge, and you nod dumbly, letting her fasten it around your wrist. You stare down at it in bewilderment, still having a hard time processing. “It looks so pretty on you,” she compliments, and you nod distractedly. It looks so familiar around your wrist—almost like you’ve worn it before. Your mind flashes with a memory and you freeze, staring down at the bracelet with wide eyes.

“Oh, my God.” You remember where you’ve seen it.

“What’s wrong?” Ryujin presses, looking from the bracelet to you.

You drop the box and step back from it as if it might bite you.

“I saw this during one of my appointments with Jaemin. We went to a jewelry store.” you recall slowly, apprehension trickling down your spine like ice cold water.

“Oh, okay! Why are you so nervous—wait a minute.” Ryujin goes still, and you nod encouragingly, hoping she makes the same deduction you just have.

“Do you think Jaemin bought it for you?” she asks, and you nod again, raising your eyebrows for emphasis. “But how did he get it—to your—oh, what the fuck—”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” you exclaim, and Ryujin waves her hands around as she silently tries to make sense of everything. “Does he—does he fucking know where I live or something?”

“How would he know where you live?” Ryujin asks in disbelief.

“I don’t know, but it got here somehow!” you whisper-yell, and she nods, her gaze drifting from your panicked eyes to the floor.

“There’s a note,” she points out, and you follow her gaze to the small slip of paper sticking out from under the foam in the box. You stoop to pick it up and blink down at the note.

“It’s just a heart,” you mutter, and Ryujin purses her lips thoughtfully.

“Damn. Was kinda hoping it’d have some sort of identifying information,” she mumbles, and you sigh.

“Me too,” you grumble, your mood souring. “Maybe,” you say hesitantly, “I should stop seeing Jaemin so much.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Ryujin agrees, “at least until you figure out what’s going on.”

You sigh in resignation. “Yeah. I hope this doesn’t end up blowing up in my face.”

Something is off.

Jaemin hasn’t seen you or spoken to you in eight consecutive days. When he looks at your booking website, your usual appointment slots are grayed out and unclickable. Every time he gets close to scheduling an appointment, it’s miraculously canceled and his money refunded, stating that there was a schedule conflict.

If that wasn’t enough, Jaemin has been attending your lives, and you haven’t given him any attention at all. He knows lives probably get overwhelming, especially when you have a large audience, but he doesn’t even get more than a thank you and a smile—a polite one, not the smile he’s come to adore—when he tips you.

He has no idea what’s going on, but his mind is reeling with possibilities, each more disastrous than the last.

You could be ignoring him. Avoiding him, possibly.

You could be scheduling with other people. Letting other clients touch what’s his.

Jaemin bristles with anger. The thought of another person’s hands on you, their name leaving your lips in a moan of pleasure, your beautiful smile directed at someone that’s not him drives him into a fit of rage.

Thoughts and images of you with another person flash in his mind, tormenting him, and he clutches his head, pressing his fingers into his skin as hard as possible to offset the emotional pain he’s feeling with a more manageable physical pain.

You can’t be with anyone else. Jaemin loves you. He fucking loves you. He would do anything for you; he’s landed himself in financial hot water tipping you and booking appointments with you, he’s completely fucked academically from skipping classes and not turning in assignments in his attempt to spend as much time with you as possible, and this is how you treat him? Do you even care about him?

Jaemin cannot fucking breathe. He places a panicked hand over his heaving chest and struggles to regulate his inhales and exhales as he tries to calm himself down. His chest feels tight, constricted as he pants and he can feel his racing heartbeat pounding in his ears as his world caves in around him.

No, Jaemin thinks, that’s not possible. You wouldn’t do that to him. Not with what you two have together.

Maybe it’s just a simple misunderstanding. Maybe you’re taking a break from in-person sessions for a bit.

Repeating the words in his head like a mantra, Jaemin can finally breathe again.

He misses you, though. Thankfully you’re going live tonight, and he can see you that way.

Sure enough, you go live at midnight like clockwork, a vision in a pretty pale blue dress, and Jaemin feels his heart swelling at the sight of you. A glance at your wrists has his heart about to burst with joy; you’re wearing the bracelet he bought you.

“Hi, everybody,” you greet sweetly, waving at the camera. “How is everyone feeling tonight?”

Responses start coming in the chat and Jaemin just sits back, waiting for a lull so he can send his message and not have it swept up in the flurry of rapidly incoming messages and ultimately ignored.

As he expected, the replies taper off in a moment, and he sends his message.

NaJaem13: lonely. bored.

He watches your eyes scan the replies as you respond to individual users, his heart rate picking up in excitement when you read the response right above his.

“Sorry to hear you’re bored, NaJaem13,” you hum softly, and hearing your voice say his name—well, part of it—and watching your lips shape the syllables has his heart soaring. “Hopefully I can change that!”

He tips you 100 tokens, and the smile on your lips as you thank him is more than worth it.

NiceGuy19: r u seeing anyone? boyfriend, girlfriend, etc

You read the question out hesitantly, and Jaemin’s chest swells with pride as he’s confident you’ll allude to what you two have going on—

“No, NiceGuy19, I am very much single.” You smile, the expression not quite reaching your eyes, and Jaemin freezes.

You’re single? What the fuck?

Loverboy01: haha so i have a chance

You let out a small laugh at the comment as you read it aloud before giving a small nod. “You do,” you agree.

Jaemin’s eye twitches. Maybe you’re keeping what you two have private…out of respect for the relationship. There’s only one problem with that.

Jaemin doesn’t want you to keep it private. As a matter of fact, Jaemin’s not so sure he wants to share you with anyone anymore.

His fingers trace along the trackpad, a few clicks, and he’s booking you for a private show. There’s a moment in which nothing happens, Jaemin waiting with bated breath for you to accept.

Your eyes drift away from the camera, looking distracted for a split second, and Jaemin smiles.

You saw his request.

You clear your throat and click something before fixing your hair slightly and continuing to read comments. A window pops up on Jaemin’s screen and he reads it eagerly.

PL4YG1RL is not available for a private show at this time.

Jaemin’s smile drops.

You saw his request…and declined it. There goes that tightening in his chest, that feeling of his throat closing up, and he can’t contain his frustration.

He has to talk to you; he has to see you in person and get an explanation for all of this. He’ll wait until your live is over, then he’ll go see you and figure out what’s going on because, honestly, Jaemin feels like his heart’s about to split into two.

You’re startled awake by three insistent knocks on your front door, not expecting any visitors at this hour.

What even is “this hour,” anyway? What time is it?

You look over at your clock on your dresser and your eyes widen at the displayed time of 4:17 that blinks back at you.

Who the hell could be knocking on the door at this hour?

You get out of bed, donning the robe on the back of your bedroom door and wrapping the fabric around your body, and make your way to your front door as three more knocks sound out.

You peek through the peephole and your blood runs cold at the sight of Jaemin standing there, an unmistakable frown on his face.

You open the door and stare at him in disbelief, saying nothing. His eyes widen when he sees you and he sighs in relief, a smile beginning to curl his lips.

“You answered,” he exhales.

“Jaemin?” You ask carefully, and his smile slowly drops in favor of a distressed expression as he starts to speak.

“I saw your live tonight and—”

“Jaemin?”

“You said you weren’t seeing anyone—”

“Jaemin.”

“You’ve been avoiding me too, I know you saw my private show request—”

You just blink at him, in disbelief.

“What about all the time we’ve spent together?” He looks like he wants to say more, but holds his tongue at the last moment. Looking into his eyes chills you to your core; past the hurt swimming in his dark irises, there’s something desperate and unnerving about his gaze. You don’t miss the way his eyes rove over your figure with an unmistakable hunger, his gaze no longer exciting you like it did before. Now, you feel vulnerable, wanting to shift your weight to your other foot but not wanting to show your discomfort.

“Are you done now?” You ask slowly.

He nods.

“Jaemin,” you say, making sure to keep your voice level, “how do you know where I live?”

He balks at your question, only worsening your nerves as you swallow what feels like a thick lump in your throat.

“What about us?” he croaks out, and you can’t hide your incredulity quickly enough.

“Jaemin,” you sigh, “there isn’t anything going on between us.” Jaemin flinches like you’ve slapped him, eyes wide and wounded. “I do this for a living.”

“What about that time I asked if I could see you again and you said that it was ‘up to me,’ with that teasing little smile?” he presses, and you pinch the bridge of your nose, breathing deeply.

“I meant that literally.” you explain, in awe at how far away from reality his mind has carried him. “If you wanted to see me again, you would have to book me.”

“But—I—I love you,” he confesses, stepping closer to you. He doesn’t miss the way you step back slightly, shrinking further into the safety of your apartment.

“Jaemin, I’m so sorry, but…” you say sincerely, feeling bad for him despite your apprehension about the whole situation. “I don’t feel that way about you.”

The way his face crumples into devastation has you wincing internally, your sympathetic nature pushing forward as you struggle with whether or not to comfort him. He hangs his head for a second and you look away to give him some privacy.

You remember, taking in his broad frame and how it practically fills up your doorway, that he never did mention how he found out where you live, and you slowly tense up again, also recalling how he’d blatantly dodged the question.

Just as fear trickles down your spine as you realize Jaemin knows far more about you than you’re comfortable with, he sucks in a ragged breath and jolts you out of your thoughts. You look back at his face and he slowly lifts his head, revealing an expression so deeply hollow that you wish you’d never looked in the first place, let alone answered the door.

You’re regretting every interaction you’ve had with Jaemin, frankly, because clearly he’s gotten the wrong idea, and now this emotionless, dead-eyed man in your doorway is honestly scaring the fuck out of you.

He sniffs once and when he speaks, his voice is every bit as flat and hollow as his face, completely impassive. “So you don’t feel anything towards me.”

You hesitate, nibbling your bottom lip nervously as you try to smooth the situation over. He raises an eyebrow expectantly, and you can feel your heartbeat pick up in pace as he stares you down with growing impatience.

“No,” you finally eke out, and he sighs, anger briefly flashing on his face before the hollow look returns, only to be replaced with a dazzling smile that doesn’t reach your eyes as he nods in understanding. “I’m sorry.”

He holds a hand up to silence you, nodding in understanding. “It’s alright.”

“Are…we done here?” You ask tentatively, not trusting your voice to conceal the tremble past a whisper.

“Yeah.” He smiles, waving you off dismissively. “Have a good night.”

“You too.” You wave cautiously, and he starts walking away from your apartment. You watch as he calls the elevator and gets in, waiting for the doors to slide shut before you practically collapse in relief, quickly closing your front door, locking both locks, and leaning against the door as you try to control your racing heart.

You’ve never seen Jaemin’s smile so void of any sincerity—it looked more like he was baring his teeth at you than actually smiling. Reality sets in, crushing your shoulders as you come to terms with two unnerving truths.

The first truth being that Jaemin knows where you live.

The second being that you didn’t tell him.

You’re heading out to the grocery store from Ryujin’s apartment, having decided to stay with her for a while until you feel safe returning home to your place.

Looking into your purse for your shopping list, you hear footsteps behind you, your senses lighting up in panic, and you whip your head around to look behind you only to see a woman and her child walking past you. She shoots you a friendly smile, and you return it, relief coursing through you.

“You’re being paranoid,” you mumble to yourself, grabbing the shopping list and looking it over briefly. As you walk to the store, you can’t help but notice the sense of danger your body’s picking up on.

Something feels off, and you don’t know what it is.

Now jumpy with nerves, you pick up your pace, glancing over your shoulder periodically as you practically speed walk to the store.

The first glance, you see nothing but the road behind you.

A car pulls up behind you and you whirl around, but the car pulls up to the curb and parks. A breath of relief escapes you, and you keep walking.

The third glance behind you rewards you with nothing, and at this point you’re pretty sure you’re jumpy for no reason, half-chuckling to yourself.

Almost out of habit now, you look over your shoulder for a fourth time, still finding no one, and you turn forward only to collide with someone’s chest, apologies immediately spilling out from your lips.

“So sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going,” you stammer as you steady yourself, and the chuckle you hear makes you freeze, your heart gripped with terror.

You know that chuckle.

You look up in a panic, a loud gasp escaping you at the sight of Jaemin’s wide smile. He doesn’t stand still for long, swiftly moving behind you and clamping a rag over your mouth and nose as you wriggle in panic, letting out muffled shrieks and screams.

Your mind races—how could he get away with this in the middle of the day? Where is everyone?—and whatever’s on the rag fills your lungs with every panicked inhale you suck in.

Hold your breath. Fight back.

You reach to claw at Jaemin’s arms, but his jacket sleeves block your every move. As he holds the rag to your face, he works to lock your arms behind your back, his actions hindered by your defensive attacks as you reach behind you, praying your nails can make contact with his face, neck, something—

One of your blind swipes collides with the side of his face, a low grunt leaving him, and you move to hit him again, this time aiming with your nails—

You can’t hold your breath any longer, adrenaline coursing through you and making your breathing pick up.

The rag is soaking wet, the smell of the liquid slightly sweet as it drips down your neck and onto your shirt. Jaemin dodges your attacks directed at his face and manages to catch one of your wrists, aided by the rag over your mouth which makes every one of your limbs feel like it’s filled with wet sand.

Your free hand drops uselessly to your side, and Jaemin grabs it, a faint sound of metal clinking before cool metal rings—handcuffs?—close around your wrists.

The fabric of the rag is coarse against your face, and it’s one of the last things you can focus on as you feel your composure slipping away, your muscles going slack, eyes drooping shut—

“You should be more careful,” Jaemin murmurs, starting to drag your limp body with him. As your mind finally slips away, your body losing its fight, the last thing you hear is a chuckle from Jaemin, the sound far more sinister than earlier, and his final words.

“You could get hurt.”

When you open your eyes, you see a white ceiling.

A look to the left of you, and you see a window, moonlight painting the floor in streaks.

To your right, you see a mahogany dresser, a matching nightstand, and a door, cracked open to reveal an en suite bathroom.

Your mind is swimming as you try to piece together everything going on—you were walking to the store—you ran into someone—Jaemin, you ran into Jaemin. You remember something cold, wet, and sweet on your face—and then, nothing.

Your arms and shoulders ache, and you wiggle your fingers experimentally, numb digits digging into your lower back—are those handcuffs?

Panic sets in as you realize that you’ve been abducted—in the middle of the day, no less—and you have no idea what’s going on.

What does Jaemin want with you?

Where are you? What time is it?

Has Ryujin noticed that you’re gone? Is she looking for you, perhaps?

Hell, can she even find you?

How the hell are you going to get out of—

“You’re awake,” Jaemin’s voice from out of nowhere makes you yelp, your eyes darting around to find him until you look straight ahead to see him standing in the doorway.

“You fought back more than I expected,” he hums thoughtfully, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

“Yeah, people don’t tend to like being chloroformed and dragged away.” You can’t help but be bitter and, really, who could blame you?

“You made it difficult,” he defends himself, frowning. You stare at him incredulously, saying nothing. “Hiding at your friend’s house—do you know how confused I was when you weren’t coming into or out of your building?”

“You waited outside of my building? How did you find out where I live?”

“I may have followed you home a couple of times,” he admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You—a couple of times—oh, my God. Did you send this bracelet?” you splutter, shaking your wrist holding the piece of jewelry.

“I did,” he announces proudly. “And you’re wearing it; it looks so beautiful on you.”

“Jaemin,” you say slowly, “what was the purpose of kidnapping me? What do you want?”

Jaemin frowns. “I just want us to be together.”

“Jaemin, how many times do I have to tell you that all of our interactions were because of my job?” you complain, yanking uselessly at the handcuffs binding your wrists. “I’m sorry, but I don’t feel the same way.”

“You will.” His reply is simple but unnerving in its simplicity. He leans over you and unlocks the handcuffs restraining you, smiling when you tentatively rub your wrists. “Better?”

“W-Why did you do that?” you ask, half-hoping he’s had a moment of guilty conscience, but his response chills you to the bone.

“I want you to struggle.”

The worst part is how bright his eyes are when he says it. He’s eyeing you like you’re the eighth wonder of the world, his gaze dropping to scan your body for an uncomfortably long moment, before he looks back up at you, his gaze now hungry and desiring.

“Jaemin—Jaemin, please, you don’t have to—” You stammer, scooting back against the headboard as he moves closer to you with his head cocked curiously.

“I know, angel,” he replies, leaning closer with a widening grin when you have nowhere to go. He wraps his fingers around your ankle and yanks you—hard—so you’re pulled closer to him. “I want to.”

“Jaemin—” Your voice cracks as tears sting your eyes. “I don’t want—”

“You will,” he shushes you, having the audacity to sound comforting. “It’s gonna feel so good,” he purrs, unbuttoning your jeans and pulling the zipper down. He peels your jeans down and off your legs painstakingly slowly, the sound of the garment hitting the floor making you flinch. “So jumpy,” he snickers, and you have half a mind to send your knee crashing into his jaw.

You refrain because, ultimately, it won’t do anything besides make him angry. Even if you managed to run away, you have no idea where you are and he’d probably catch you before you had a chance to get your bearings.

“Screw you,” you spit out instead, and Jaemin wiggles his eyebrows with a suggestive grin.

“You will.” He stares you down with darkened eyes, evoking a shudder from deep within your body. The corners of his lips quirk upwards in a smug grin, and he slides his hands up your bare legs, slowly parting your thighs with ease even though you fight to keep them closed. “Let’s play a game,” Jaemin hums excitedly. “We’re going to play together for a bit and then we’re going to take these,” he muses, snapping the band of your underwear against your skin and relishing the way you jolt, “off. If your body likes what I’m doing to it, we’re going to keep playing.”

“Oh, God,” you whimper, closing your eyes tightly. Jaemin’s hand cups your chin hard and he shakes your head from side to side roughly, forcing you to look at him with an affronted glare.

“Look at me.” Jaemin demands, his eyes hard as he arches a brow in warning. You balk under his stern gaze. “Don’t look away from me. Understand?”

You nod tentatively. Jaemin smiles, the disapproval from earlier gone without a trace.

“That’s my good girl,” he praises you warmly, and your stomach curls in disgust.

He’s sick. He’s lost his fucking mind.

You watch Jaemin cautiously as he moves to sit beside you on the bed, propping his back up against the headboard. He pulls you until you’re straddling his lap, your face burning with shame as you struggle to keep your eyes on him like he ordered.

His hands glide and down up your sides and he squeezes your hips with a low groan, guiding your movements so you’re rocking back and forth on his lap, your clit occasionally rubbing against his clothed erection through the thin fabric of your underwear and the thicker fabric of his sweats.

“Doesn’t that feel good, baby?” Jaemin coos sweetly against your lips, pushing forward to kiss you. It takes everything in you not to bite his lip or his tongue when he pushes it into your mouth. “Kiss me like you mean it.” His voice is still light, but the warning in his tone is evident, and you whimper in defeat when he swirls his tongue around yours, pulling it back only to suck on your tongue.

He’s drawing all your attention to your mouth and your core as he stimulates both, leaving you so disoriented that you don’t even notice one hand sneaking up your shirt until his cold fingers graze your stomach, making you jolt away from his touch.

“So cute,” he mumbles fondly into the kiss, and you could almost swear you feel bile rising in your throat.

You’re not sure if you’re angrier with him or with yourself as your body reacts to the sensations of Jaemin kissing down to your neck and sucking at the sensitive skin there. It’s hardly your fault, you think—Jaemin’s advantage is that he already knows how to please you, and you’re defenseless against his touch.

His hand under your shirt slips to your back and unclasps your bra, returning to the front and worming its way under the lacy fabric to pinch your nipple, tweaking it between his fingers. You jerk away from him, and his free hand clutches the back of your neck, his iron-clad grip pinning you in place. He pulls back from your neck to shoot you a warning glare that chills your blood before slowly returning his lips to your skin, sucking and licking as he traces circles around your stiffening peak.

His lips trail kisses, hot and wet, down your neck to your collarbones and both hands tug your shirt over your head, discarding it to the side and returning to your body to cup your breasts. You flinch at his touch, Jaemin chuckling with sadistic amusement before groping your breasts freely, tugging and squeezing your nipples until you let out defeated moans of pleasure.

His lips kiss lower and lower still until he’s leaning you back so he can angle himself forward to envelop your nipple in his mouth. The sucking sensation is regrettably arousing and it takes all of your focus and willpower not to make any noises. Your hands push at his toned chest, firm muscles unyielding under your touch, and Jaemin just laughs, the vibrations sending another pang of pleasure down between your legs.

Your pushing grows more and more determined until you actually manage to push hard enough to detach his mouth from your chest. Jaemin, it seems, grows tired of your retaliation and forces your hands behind you, gripping your wrists in one large hand and pushing them into the small of your back so you’re forced into a deeper arch. He nuzzles in the space between your breasts and leaves sloppy kisses along the skin there before moving to swirl his tongue around your nipple, flicking it with the tip and grinning when you inhale abruptly, your breath hitching when he nips at the bud with his teeth.

He alternates between your breasts, kissing, sucking, and licking to his heart’s content as you whimper in protest, incapable of wriggling away from his mouth.

After a moment of Jaemin’s relentless mouth on your nipples, he looks up at you, releasing your nipple with a wet pop, and reconnects your lips, squeezing your wrists together hard when you refuse to part your lips for his tongue.

He smacks your ass once, the flesh stinging from the impact, and you yelp in pain, Jaemin’s tongue slipping into your unprotected mouth and playing with yours languidly, leisurely, like he has all the time in the world.

“You know,” he mumbles, still kissing you, “what I want?” When you don’t answer, he sighs, almost in disappointment, and smacks your ass again, ignoring your pained cry. “Answer me.”

“What,” you mutter bitterly through gritted teeth, “do you want, Jaemin?”

“I want…to feel you ride my lap,” he answers with a wicked grin, and you groan in complaint as he grabs at your hip with his free hand and guides you into a repetitive rocking motion against his clothed cock, which you can feel hardening with every drag of your hips.

His lips attach themselves to your neck, his hand leaving your hip and massaging your breasts, flicking at your nipples lightly. Your movements halt almost instantly, and he raises an eyebrow up at you expectantly, looking pointedly at where your bodies meet.

When you stubbornly refuse to move, his gaze hardens and he grips your jaw, squeezing hard enough to evoke a whimper from you.

“Keep. Moving.”

You two stare each other down for a moment and Jaemin raises both eyebrows as if to say, “is that so?” You falter at the thought of whatever punishment he has in mind and slowly resume your grinding motions, averting your gaze. It feels like your soul withers when you hear his satisfied hum and his lips return to your skin, kissing and sucking at where your neck and shoulder meet.

His head lolls back for a moment, eyes shutting as he lets out a low groan of bliss, and your movements start to slow again as you feel the insuppressible tugging sensation of pleasure in the pit of your belly.

He opens his eyes to stare at you through a heavy-lidded gaze, silently ordering you to keep moving, and you start to panic, knowing all too well that when he goes to check if you’re wet, he’s going to see that you irrefutably are.

“Jaemin, can we please stop—”

“No.”

“But—but I’m gonna c—”

“Of course you are.” Jaemin speaks to you slowly, as if you’re stupid. “What do you think the point of this was?”

Your heart falls at your realization that he probably intended to make you climax this whole time, rigging the “game” he’d set up. You can’t help but feel stupid for not knowing that this was his plan the whole time; he kidnapped you and you really expected him to keep his word?

His lips drag you out of your spiral of hopelessness when they drag against the spot just behind your ear, and you keen desperately, wishing for anything at all to save you from this.

Of course, no such miracle comes, and your body curls in on itself as you climax, your hips bucking against his lap. You bite your lip so hard to keep from moaning that you’re surprised you don’t bleed, but Jaemin’s gleefully satisfied expression is every bit as disappointing as any noise you could have made.

He waits until your body has calmed down from your climax, watching with fascination as you both succumb to the pleasure and try with all your might to ignore it, to speak.

“You know, I think we’ve been playing for long enough,” Jaemin hums, snaking a hand between your bodies and inching it painfully slowly down your stomach.

He’s prolonging the inevitable just to torture you, and you sigh in resignation, the sound catching in your throat as you hold back defeated tears.

After what feels like ages, his hand finally reaches its destination, long fingers stroking over the damp spot of your underwear as he gasps ostentatiously. “What’s this?” His eyes flicker between his hand between your legs and your face with a devilish grin, and you let out a broken whimper.

“Nothing,” you lie, and he raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“Oh, yeah?” He slips his fingers into your underwear and you reluctantly hiss at the sensation, angling your hips away from him. “Doesn’t feel like nothing,” he teases, grinning as he strokes along your slick folds.

You move to argue, but he presses his lips to yours, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth even as you whine in protest. Jaemin grins against your lips as he withdraws his fingers from your underwear and displays them to you proudly, the digits glistening with your arousal.

“Looks like we get to keep playing, angel,” he murmurs, and your heart falls. “C’mere,” he urges you, dragging your reluctant body off his lap and lying you down on the bed on your back.

“Jaemin, please? Please don’t—oh, God—” you stammer as he parts your legs, reflexively clamping them shut again, and Jaemin raises an eyebrow in warning.

“Are you sure you want to do that?” His voice is low and threatening, and a chill runs down your spine as his grip on your knee tightens noticeably and his eyes lose the playful glint. When you relax your muscles, Jaemin smiles brightly and spreads your legs apart. “Good girl. Now relax,” he purrs, running his hands up your inner thighs and chuckling at the tremor of revulsion that travels through your body, “Nana just wants a taste.”

He pulls your underwear down and off your legs painfully slowly, as if he’s rubbing the moment in your face, and you can’t help but let out a choked sob of defeat, wanting so badly to look away but fearing his reaction if you do.

“Sound so pretty when you cry,” Jaemin coos, spreading your legs wider once the thin garment covering your core is tossed carelessly onto the floor. He tucks himself between your legs, and you inch away from him as subtly as possible, crying out when he wraps one muscular arm over your hips and yanks you towards his mouth with ease. “Don’t run from me.”

You’ve been holding back tears for so long, not wanting to give him the satisfaction, but when he leans down and his tongue makes contact with your core, the dam breaks—tears, hot and fat and wet, trail down your cheeks, and you can’t help but sniffle pathetically.

“That’s it, just let it happen, angel,” Jaemin hums, licking up your folds, his tongue collecting your arousal, and he looks you directly in the eyes when his lips wrap around your clit, sucking the sensitive bud and flicking it back and forth with the tip of his tongue. “Taste so fucking good…and it’s all for me.”

His tongue flicks and swirls around your clit languidly and your core drips arousal as he teases his fingers at your entrance, pushing two in slowly to the first knuckle, and you cover your face in an attempt to muffle the reluctant moan of pleasure that slips out from his attentive actions.

“Come on, Playgirl,” Jaemin taunts, “I wanna hear you moan like you did all those other times we’ve been together.” He pushes his fingers into you and you gasp, one hand leaving your face to clutch at the bedsheets, and you shake your head vigorously.

“Jaemin, that was my job,” you desperately explain, but your futile attempt to save yourself falls on unsympathetic ears, and he looks up from between your legs, his lips glistening with a mix of his saliva and your wetness.

“Well, now your job is to convince me to let you live.” He raises both eyebrows as he regards you, but an ice cold panic takes over your whole body at his words.

Would he seriously try to kill you?

You don’t even notice how your breathing has picked up until your chest is heaving with panic and Jaemin reaches up, pressing between your breasts to flatten you to the bed.

“Relax,” he sighs, “I won’t hurt you if you’re good for me.” He watches you intently as resignation settles in your chest, cold and heavy, before pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. “Good girl,” he praises. He returns his attention to your core, curling his fingers inside of you and pumping them in and out of you as he wraps his lips around your clit and hums contently, sending vibrations through the sensitive bud and making your back arch.

A moan forces its way out of your lips, your face burning with shame as you feel your body succumbing to the pleasure.

“It feels good, yeah?” Jaemin asks, continuing when you don’t respond, “I know it feels good,” he coos teasingly, “because your pussy keeps clenching around my fingers.”

You refrain from swearing at him, instead shuddering with unwanted pleasure when he angles his fingers just right and his fingertips press into your g-spot, and Jaemin’s eyes light up with glee.

“Gotcha,” he mumbles, a triumphant grin on his face as he thrusts his fingers into you, repeatedly stimulating your most sensitive spot along your inner walls, and moans spill from your lips uncontrollably, the pleasure too much to bear.

“You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, angel?” Jaemin asks with a smug grin, and you shake your head vigorously even as your eyes roll back into your head and your back arches off of the bed with another skillful thrust of his fingers. “Yes, you are,” he says, ignoring your denial and reattaching his mouth to your core, rapidly flicking your clit with his tongue.

To your dismay, you are about to cum, your impending orgasm building up in your stomach even as you desperately try to will it away. Broken pants escape you as the pleasure grows, and when you finally climax, you whimper loudly, your eyes shutting tightly as fat tears force their way out and down your temples to melt into the pillow under your head.

“That’s a good girl.” Jaemin presses wet kisses to the insides of your thighs, his lips traveling higher up your body until they’re pressing against yours forcefully, the taste of your arousal on his tongue as it slips between your lips. His kiss is all-consuming, Jaemin emitting grunts and pants of desire while his hand reaches between you two. After a moment passes of his hand not touching you, you move to break the kiss in confusion, only to feel the head of his cock rubbing up and down your folds, collecting your arousal.

“Jaemin—no—fuck, Jaemin, please—” you plead, putting all your strength into pushing him away from you. His eyes light up with excitement at the new challenge you’ve presented and he swats your hands away with ease as you push and shove at his chest, a growing smile on his face as you push yourself out from under him, scooting up towards the headboard.

“That’s it, angel,” he coaxes you, nodding encouragingly as you push his shoulders to get him away from you. “Push a little harder, yeah, just like that.” He’s coaching you through fighting him off, you realize, and what little hope you may have had all but drains from you as you let out a choked sob and close your legs as tightly as you can.

“Jaemin, at least put a condom on—” you manage to get out through panicked breaths, and he cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“Why would I do that?” Jaemin snickers, placing one hand on your leg and forcing his hand between your knees, yanking your legs apart with a grunt and shoving himself between your thighs once more. “I want us to feel every inch of each other, angel.”

Before you can protest again, he tucks your knees to your chest, draping your legs over his shoulders, and drags you back down to him. He pins your arms above your head and coos down at you in mock sympathy as he pushes into you slowly.

“Oh, my God,” you gasp, your body trembling under the weight of your yet-to-be-shed tears. Jaemin bottoms out inside of you with a low, content moan and turns his head to kiss your calf before leaning down to bring his lips to your ear.

“Love filling you up with my cock,” he purrs in your ear and you can only hiccup from the force of trying not to cry. “Does that feel good, hm? Having me fill your tight little pussy up?” When you shake your head vigorously, Jaemin tuts disapprovingly. “Lying isn’t going to help you.”

The worst part of it all, you think, is that it does feel good. He’s been with you enough at this point to know exactly what you like as he pulls out and thrusts back into you, slowly, making sure you feel every single inch and ridge of his length.

He fucks into you slowly but with powerful snaps of his hips, moans falling from your lips whether you like it or not, and he presses your legs against your chest even harder, uncaring about the ache it sends shooting up your legs.

You can’t even dwell on the discomfort because he keeps driving his hips into yours, fucking you into a stupor that you couldn’t snap out of if you tried.

“I know you love when I fuck you,” he coos, and when you cry out in protest, he just laughs. “Your body won’t lie to me.” He pouts. “I can feel you clenching around me and you’re so fucking wet, I could almost slip out. I bet you’re about to cum already, aren’t you?”

He’s right, unfortunately, and you can only nod and whimper, not sure if you’re asking him to release you or let you finish.

He reaches between you two and massages your clit in quick circles, eyes flashing with triumph when your back arches and you climax with a breathless whine and repeated moans of “No, no, no.”

“Gonna cum, angel,” he pants, his brow furrowing as he speeds up his thrusts. “Gonna fill you up with my cum,” he grunts, and your eyes widen as the fight returns to your system. You writhe under him in an attempt to free yourself, but Jaemin just laughs uncaringly and sits up slightly to grip your squirming hips and push you further into the mattress.

He’s stronger than you could ever manage to overcome, and his actions render you immobile, your legs still flailing under him as your hands push at his chest.

“Jaemin, don’t cum inside of me,” you plead, bucking your hips uselessly, but he just moans, fucking into you harder.

“Gonna make you mine,” he purrs, his grip on your hips tightening uncomfortably as he ignores your every protest. “All fucking mine.” His thrusts become slower and almost impossibly deeper before he bottoms out in you with a low groan and releases into you, a pleased shudder leaving him as his length throbs within your walls.

All you can do is cry bitterly at how betrayed you feel by your body and how shame burns in you like an inferno, and you cover your face with your hands in resignation, not moving them even when Jaemin attempts to pull them away.

He sucks his teeth in annoyance and his grip tightens around your wrists as he wrenches your hands from over your face, his lips on yours immediately as he tastes the salt of your tears, a delighted hum rumbling in his throat.

“You’re all mine now, angel,” he breathes into the kiss. “No one’s ever going to separate us.”

“I want to go home,” you whimper, and he shushes you with the demeanor of a comforting lover, despite the truth being far from the situation.

“You are home,” Jaemin coos.

Being abducted is, as you probably could have guessed, a nightmare.

Jaemin has the audacity to be sweet and kind to you by talking to you sweetly, serving you (admittedly) good food, and telling you sweet nothings everyday—while he has you handcuffed to the bed. He lets you wear his clothes, although you suspect that’s more for him than it is for you. Sometimes, if he’s feeling generous, he’ll attach one of your handcuffs to a chain so you can roam the room as freely as one can in an eight foot radius.

He hasn’t touched you since the day he abducted you; he says he’ll wait for you to get adjusted this time. He also leaves you alone a startling amount, but you figure that would track for a normal college student; however, nothing about this is normal, so there’s that.

Your chance comes when he leaves you to go to work one day—you think it’s Tuesday, but the days are honestly starting to blur together so you’re not sure—and leaves a drawer open in the nightstand in his haste to get there on time.

Your cursory peek into it reveals a few unimportant items but one stands out to you.

A paperclip.

You don’t know very much about lock picking apart from reading one WikiHow link on it a while ago, and there isn’t a lot of room for trial and error, so you really only have one good shot at it.

Today Jaemin felt kind enough to use the chain as opposed to handcuffing you to the bedpost, and you thank the universe that you have just enough room to reach the drawer, jostling its contents so the paperclip can slide closer to you.

“Come on, come on, come on,” you mutter anxiously.

The paperclip slides towards your hand and you snatch it immediately, sitting up and bending it into the shape you vaguely remember seeing in the WikiHow article. Unfortunately, your mind blanks after that one step, so you just feed the end of the makeshift lock picker into the keyhole for the handcuffs, carefully twisting it this way and that.

It takes a grueling amount of time in which you fear the paperclip might break, but the small metal utensil thankfully stays intact the whole time, and you could cry with relief when there’s a click and the pressure on your wrist loosens considerably.

“Oh, my God,” you half-gasp, half-laugh. You spring to your feet, wobbling slightly as you get acclimated to standing up and moving again. You don’t have much time, you’re sure, so you sneak out of the door and steal down the hallway and stairs, rushing out of the front door and not caring to lock it behind you.

You’re not wearing shoes, clad only in socks, and the concrete of the pavement feels cold and rough under your feet, making it harder to run away as you would have preferred.

You’re walking down the street, praying to see a landmark that helps you get your bearings, when you hear the blip of a police car.

You’re saved.

You’re running before you even realize it, the impact of your poorly covered soles on the concrete sending sparks of pain up your legs, waving your arms wildly at the car as it approaches, and it slows to a stop, a relieved sob escaping you as you run up to the cop’s window.

“Officer, please help me—I’ve been kidnapped—I don’t know where I am—I don’t know where to go—” you stammer breathlessly, and the officer raises a hand to silence you, looking at you with curious eyes.

“You’ve been kidnapped?” he murmurs, brows knitting together in a confused sort of surprise.

You nod vigorously. “His name is Jaemin,” you explain in a rush of words, “Na Jaemin.”

“Okay, let’s head to the precinct and I can get your report there,” the officer explains. He’s got a very handsome face, you can’t help but think. He smiles for the first time, and you feel at ease instantly, his smile kind and warm with two dimples to go with it.

“Okay,” you agree immediately.

“You have to ride in the back of the cop car,” he explains, stepping out of the vehicle and opening the back door for you. He’s fairly tall, and his badge glints in the sunlight, making it hard for you to read his name. “It’s policy.”

You nod in understanding and get into the backseat, strapping yourself in and scanning the car curiously. There’s a clear divider between the front and backseat and you watch the cop’s side profile as he starts the car and drives off.

You’ve been riding for a while before you realize.

“Um, officer?”

“Mm?”

“Is this the way to the precinct?” you ask carefully, studying the side of his face for any sign of a tell.

“We’re going exactly where you need to go,” he answers, and you can’t help but notice with an unsettling jolt that he didn’t answer your question. As he speaks, he passes a house you definitely remember passing when you escaped, and all the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

You think frantically about what could be going on, and it hits you all at once.

Jaemin mentioned having a brother. Who’s a cop. You found this officer in the area of Jaemin’s place.

“Officer, I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He doesn’t answer, only heightening your suspicions. The coincidences are too much to let slide, so you quietly reach for the door handle when he pulls up to a red light. There’s a muted click as the door handle fails to open the door, and the officer speaks.

“You can’t open the back doors from the inside.”

Which, yeah, makes sense, but the way he sounds when he says it takes you by surprise. He sounds smug almost, almost teasing.

You sit back quietly, your voice dejected when you speak next.

“We’re not going to the precinct, are we?”

“I think you know the answer to that,” he replies easily, and you rest your cheek against the cold window in defeat, trying as hard as you can not to cry; you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

When the car finally rolls to a stop, you look out the window in resignation, your gaze dull and broken when you lock eyes with Jaemin, who’s standing on the sidewalk in front of his house.

“You should lock this one up more carefully next time,” the officer scolds Jaemin lightly, and Jaemin nods with a smile at him before looking at you with a hurt frown.

“I was being so nice to you,” he complains, and you scoff under your breath, sliding your gaze away from him. He opens your door and, when you don’t move, sighs before he reaches in to unstrap your seatbelt and pull you out of the car. “Oh, by the way, this is my brother Jaehyun.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jaehyun replies dryly, raising his eyebrow at you.

You don’t reply.

“Same mother, different fathers,” Jaemin goes on to explain. “Hence the different last names.”

“Jaemin, I really don’t care,” you say honestly, and he frowns at you.

“Don’t hurt my feelings.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to him, kissing the top of your head. “Thanks, Jaehyun. See you!”

Jaehyun raises two fingers to his forehead in a mock salute before he’s driving off.

“I think I’m going to have to revoke your roaming privileges.” Jaemin hums with an air of disappointment as he leads you back into the house.

You wish you could revoke his life at this point.

It’s another day being held in Jaemin’s room and you’re lazily watching the television that Jaemin put on for you before going to work, eyes practically glazing over with boredom before you change the channel. It’s harder to reach the remote with your hands zip tied in front of you, but you manage to make it work.

You flip through channels absentmindedly, but stop immediately once you hear your name coming from the screen.

You flip back a couple of channels until you land on the local news, which is in the process of going through your Missing Person report.

“Holy shit,” you say breathlessly, watching as they display a picture of you on screen. “They’re looking for me.”

Your best friends Ryujin and Yuna come on screen next, Yuna in tears and Ryujin looking pissed as she talks to the newscaster.

“She doesn’t just up and disappear, something happened to her, I know it.” Ryujin says vehemently. She looks directly into the camera and you feel goosebumps raise on your body at how determined she looks. “We’re going to find you. Don’t worry.”

“I love them,” you mumble sadly before sitting up slightly. Knowing that someone is looking for you fills you with hope and a resolve you didn’t have before.

You’re getting out of here.

You stare down at the zip tie around your wrists and think about how to get out. You bring it to your mouth and start to nibble at the thick plastic, praying this works. Your jaw aches as you work away at the zip tie, but you can feel it starting to separate, giving you more hope.

You have no idea how long you have so you stop nibbling halfway through the tie and sit up as straight as possible, twisting the tie around and yanking your wrists apart forcefully. It takes several tries and you’re just about to give up before you yank one last time with all of the frustration and anger you have in your body and the tie snaps apart.

“Holy shit,” you sob in relief, quietly moving to get off of the bed before realizing— “fuck, my ankles.”

You can’t reach them to bite through the zip tie so you fiddle with the locking mechanism, pushing the small plastic latch this way and that with your fingernail until it gives way and loosens enough for you to slip out.

You look around for shoes, not about to make the same mistake as last time, and finally find them under the bed, slipping them on as quietly as possible and heading out of the door and down the stairs.

You’re almost out, freedom just out of reach, when keys jingle in the lock of the front door and you freeze for a moment before running to the hallway closet and hiding in it, holding your breath for dear life amongst coats and various household items. You peek through the slots and fear seizes your heart when you see Jaehyun walk past the closet and up to the second landing.

You don’t waste any time, immediately slipping out of the closet just in time to hear Jaehyun swear loudly, footsteps thundering down the stairs, and the unmistakable sound of a gun cocking has you panicking as you rush towards the front door.

“Don’t…move.” Jaehyun’s voice sounds out from behind you, and you turn slowly to face him. He’s got the gun pointed directly at your chest and your eyes widen and your breathing picks up as you realize the very real possibility that you might get killed. “Jaemin picked a difficult one, I see.”

“Jaemin wouldn’t want me dead,” you say desperately, shifting in panic each time Jaehyun moves to the side, not even realizing that he’s been slowly and subtly maneuvering you both so he’s blocking the front door and you’re forced further into the house.

“Jaemin wouldn’t mind you incapacitated.” Jaehyun points out, instead aiming the gun at your knee.

“Please don’t,” you beg, tears welling up in your eyes, and he raises one eyebrow skeptically.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t.”

“Why are you helping him, anyway? You’re a cop; surely you know they’ve been looking for me.”

“He’s my brother,” Jaehyun answers your question like you’re stupid and you hide the way it makes you bristle with anger. “He makes dumb choices, yeah, but having his back is what family’s for.”

“I have a family, too,” you sniffle, and he blinks at you impassively.

“I really don’t care.”

Jaehyun’s face is frighteningly emotionless as he points the gun at your leg. You’ve got nowhere to run, and your hope is almost entirely snuffed out. You close your eyes and wait for the unimaginable pain to come with a bullet to the leg.

You flinch violently at the loud thud that startles you, and snap your eyes open at the familiar grunt, praying you’re not imagining things. Could it really be—?

Sure enough, Jaehyun is staggering from Ryujin’s powerful blow to the back of his head with a baseball bat. His grip on the gun slips and it hits the floor, making you flinch yet again as you pray it doesn’t go off. You dive for the gun at the same time Jaehyun does, but Ryujin kicks him hard in the side, the larger male groaning loudly in pain as one hand goes to clutch his side. You take the opportunity and snatch the gun off of the floor, quickly clambering to your feet and aiming the gun at his pained form on the floor.

“If you even think about moving, I will blow your fucking brains out.” You seethe, holding the gun with both hands and, truthfully, you’re surprised you’re not shaking, chalking it up to the shock and adrenaline.

“You don’t know how to shoot a gun.” Jaehyun sneers at you and you just smile, aiming at the wall behind him and pulling the trigger. The gun jerks back in your hand as a bullet tears a small hole through the wall, and Jaehyun’s face goes gray, much to your satisfaction.

“I’m sure I can figure it out.” You smile humorlessly down at him and you watch as he swallows thickly. “We’re going to leave now. I’m going to keep this gun. And if I ever see you again—I don’t care if it’s at the goddamn supermarket—I will put a bullet through your thick ass skull,” you promise, your voice low and trembling with poorly restrained rage (and fear—definitely fear).

Jaehyun’s furious yet dead-set gaze on you is beyond unnerving, but you shake off the jitters as best you can.

You and Ryujin slowly inch towards the door, never moving your eyes away from Jaehyun, and right as Ryujin inches by him, he lunges for her ankle, making her jump away in surprise and barely get away. You and Ryujin both scream and you point the gun at his legs, not even thinking before you pull the trigger.

A loud gunshot rings out, your hands jerking back once more from the gun’s recoil, and Jaehyun practically roars in pain, grabbing his wounded thigh and squeezing hard in an attempt to slow the blood loss.

“I hope I hit a fucking artery.” You spit, taking the opportunity while both of Jaehyun’s hands are busy to lurch forward and kick him in the side as hard as you can.

“Fuck—you fucking bitch—” Jaehyun’s words come out in pained gasps as he grasps his side with one bloodied hand, gritting his teeth in agony, and you and Ryujin make a run for it. You’re in absolute shock and disbelief as you stumble out of the house you’ve been held captive in for weeks.

You could faint from joy when you catch sight of Yuna’s car waiting outside the house, the car still on and running as you two rush to the car, climbing in the backseat.

“Let’s go, go, go—” Yuna yells, not even waiting until Ryujin is done shutting the door to drive off as quickly as possible, her tires screeching.

There’s a moment of silence in the car where you and Ryujin look at each other and as you two lock eyes, she leans over to you and pulls you into a tight hug, trying her best to soothe you as you shake and tremble in her arms with the force of your crying. Your shoulder feels damp, you realize when you finally compose yourself enough to pull away, and you see that Ryujin has tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

“We thought you—that he—” Ryujin hiccups, and you hug her again tightly as she takes her turn to cry. “We never stopped looking for you.”

“Thank you,” you gush, the two words feeling embarrassingly inconsequential compared to the absolutely overwhelming relief and gratitude you feel. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you—”

“Don’t even mention it.” Yuna weaves through traffic precariously, and you’ve never been so relieved to be in the car with your haphazard driver of a friend.

“How the hell did you find me?” You can’t help but wonder.

Ryujin sags in relief and exhaustion against the backseat, her free hand not holding the baseball bat gripping your free hand not holding the gun. “We just had to figure out Jaemin’s name and address and the other day I got lucky and spotted him in the grocery store, so I followed him home.” Ryujin says, her words stumbling out together in her rush to speak. “It was like a miracle.”

“You’re telling me.” You laugh for what feels like the first time in ages, relief flooding through your body as the sight of the police precinct comes into view.

It’s over. It’s finally over.

“So what brings you to therapy?” The woman sitting in a large gray armchair watches you over the rims of her glasses. Her gaze is intent but kind, and she crosses one leg over the other.

Her navy blue blazer and skirt are a cute combination, you think. The color brings out the warm brown of her eyes, and the slightly lighter shade of blue on the wall behind her only helps you feel a bit more at ease.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before you speak.

“About two months ago, I, um…I was stalked and kidnapped.” You exhale slowly. “Or abducted, I guess—you can’t kidnap an adult—but, um, yeah.”

You chance a peek at the woman across from you to see her eyebrows raised in surprise, a concerned frown on her face.

“That must have been terrifying.”

“Yeah, for sure. The guy who did it is in prison now, thankfully, but it’s definitely changed a lot of things in my everyday life, y’know?” you mumble, and she hums thoughtfully, nodding.

“Can you tell me a bit more about that?”

“Well, um. I ended up moving out of my apartment because I just didn’t feel safe there. I live in a different building now with a great security system.”

“That’s good.” She encourages you to continue speaking with a small wave of her hand.

“I also quit my job because that’s how J— …my stalker—found me. Now I work as a waitress.”

“I see,” she muses. “How is that working out?”

“It’s good,” you say with a shrug. “Meeting all those people every day is kind of nerve-wracking, but maybe it’ll get better with time.”

“I believe it will,” she assures you, and you can feel yourself relaxing a bit more. “How have you been sleeping?”

“Not very well,” you chuckle humorlessly. “I’m so…jumpy nowadays that any sounds at night wake me up instantly.”

“I can imagine.”

“And then there are the, um…the nightmares.” She seems to be waiting for you to elaborate, but a lump rises in your throat, rendering you silent for the time being.

Avoiding her gaze, you scan the room for something to ground you and stop the tears pricking at the backs of your eyes. Your eyes land on the placard on her desk, your eyes tracing over the embossed letters of her name—Dr. Jiyoon Choi—and you envision what the nameplate would feel like under your fingertips.

It’d be cool to the touch, you think; it’s metal, after all. Smooth, too. You mentally run your fingers over the ridges of the letters of her name, and—

“Nightmares are common for people who have been through traumatic events like your situation.” Dr. Choi’s voice is gentle but brings you out of your dissociative state nonetheless.

“I figured,” you mutter with a nod.

“It will take time to work through everything you’ve been through.” Dr. Choi explains, and you nibble at your bottom lip as you listen to her. “Nightmares and flashbacks are common in people with PTSD—Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

“Yeah,” you echo lamely.

“As is dissociating at times,” she continues, and you think back to the several times you’ve spaced out in the thirty minutes you’ve been in her office. “It’s your brain trying to protect you from the memories.”

“I need it to try a little harder,” you sigh, and her lips quirk upwards into a fond smile.

“Be easy on it, hm? And yourself; you’ve both been through so much.” There’s something so deeply affirming about her confirmation of your situation, a professional signing off on your trauma, that the dam breaks and you take in a deep, shaky inhale before bursting into tears.

The only other sound to be heard apart from your crying is the ticking of the clock on the wall.

Tick, tick, tick.

The sureness of the ticking, the reliability of the sound, is somehow calming to you, your ragged breaths slowly starting to sync up with the clock.

Tick, tick, tick.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, you manage to compose yourself once more and look up at Dr. Choi—who, you now notice, has passed you a small blue tissue box.

Tick, tick, tick.

“That was embarrassing,” you mumble, slightly chuckling as you try to play it off as a joke.

“That was expected,” Dr. Choi corrects you, sitting forward in her seat and adjusting her posture. “May I ask a question?”

“Go ahead.”

“Was that the first time you’ve cried since everything happened?”

Tick, tick, tick.

“Yes,” you admit.

“I think that’s a good sign,” she encourages you. “You’re starting to make progress by processing your emotions.”

“Yeah?” Your voice sounds small but hopeful.

Dr. Choi nods reassuringly. “Yes.”

There’s a small beat of silence and you look down and run the pads of your thumbs over the smooth surfaces of your fingernails.

“Is there anything else you’d like to share today?” Dr. Choi asks gently, and you shake your head. “Okay. In that case, I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for our session today.”

“Thank you.” You stand up and take your bag, smiling feebly as you head for her door.

“Of course.” She smiles. Your hand is just wrapping around the doorknob when she speaks again. “Will I be seeing you next week?”

You don’t say anything for a moment, your fist squeezing the cool metal of the doorknob.

You want to get rid of the dark cloud that feels like it’s been following you around for the past two months—you want to be able to walk down the street without looking over your shoulder every three seconds—you want…you want to feel better.

“Yes,” you answer, turning back to look at her with a small smile. “You will.”

“Wonderful. My secretary can set you up for our next appointment. Take care and get home safe.” Dr. Choi bids you goodbye, and you nod again before exiting her office.

It’s a start, you think. A pretty good one, at that.

Jaemin lazily thumbs through the pile of magazines in the pathetic excuse for a library the penitentiary has to offer, biding his time until the guards switch out their shifts. The clock ticks on endlessly, driving Jaemin closer and closer to insanity with every tick, tick, tick—

The air is uncomfortably warm and smells faintly of bleach and stale breath.

Tick, tick, tick—

The guard on duty yawns and looks at his watch.

Tick, tick, tick—

Another inmate in the “library” asks for permission to use the computer. Jaemin scoffs, wondering if his fellow prisoner is going to entertain himself with a game of Sudoku, Solitaire, or Minesweeper, seeing as how they have no access to the internet.

Tick, tick, tick—

Jaemin stands up slowly, so as not to draw too much attention to himself, and walks between the bookshelves holding barely anything worthwhile. He browses through the book selection, slender fingers stroking the spine of each hardcover book, before he finally finds what he’s been looking for.

He brings the book back to his seat and angles the spine up so the cover is easily visible to anyone who may look at him. Feigning a pensive expression, Jaemin flips to the middle of the book. The back half of the pages have been meticulously hollowed out in the shape of a rectangle and there, in the makeshift pocket, lies a smartphone.

Jaemin smirks to himself, smoothly pocketing the phone, and busies himself with looking through the pages of the book that haven’t been carved into. Hardcover books are typically off-limits, barely even allowed in the penitentiary, but Jaemin’s been getting some special perks due to “good behavior.”

To avoid arousing suspicion, he closes the book and gets up to put it back on the shelf, instead picking up a random self-help softcover book and leafing through the pages idly until that glorious tick, tick, tick—

There’s a brief sound of shuffling as the guard on duty stands up and offers his seat to the new guard about to assume his post. The first guard leaves, and the new guard sits down in the seat, leaning back to get comfortable.

Jaemin waits.

Tick, tick, tick.

The guard sighs, already bored with his assignment, and Jaemin enacts his plan. Scrunching his face up in discomfort, he stands up and, clutching his stomach, makes his way over to the guard, who sits up in his seat immediately, apprehensive upon Jaemin’s approach.

“Can I help you?” The guard asks, his voice rough like sandpaper, and Jaemin groans once for effect.

“I need to use the bathroom. I think I’m gonna be sick.” He moans, and the guard’s eyebrows furrow as he appears to think about it. Jaemin can only hope this guard isn’t on a sick little power trip and won’t feel like denying him the bathroom just for the hell of it.

To really sell it, Jaemin lurches forward, doubling over as he mimics the sounds of poorly restrained retching. The guard’s face contorts into disgust, and he waves at the hallway in admission.

“I knew there was something fishy about those Sloppy Joes for lunch.” Jaemin hears the guard muttering to himself and masks his smirk with another discomfort-borne twisting of his lips.

He staggers past the guards in the hallway, walking past one tall, burly guard Jaemin has a feeling he shouldn’t piss off and a thin, almost lanky guard who could probably blow away if the wind got too strong, and makes his way into the bathroom, locking himself in a stall and dropping to his knees. As he hunches over the toilet bowl, he fishes out the sleek black rectangle from his pocket and powers the phone on, quickly opening up the internet browser and typing in what he’s looking for.

Jaemin fake retches loudly to keep up appearances, fingers of his free hand drumming impatiently on his lower thigh, and sighs in relief when the familiar page loads.

FunBunny is now live.

“Not now, FunBunny,” Jaemin mutters. “I have someone in mind.”

He types in the username he’s had swimming around in his mind for the past three months since he’s been locked up and when the page buffers, no doubt due to the shitty internet connection in the prison, Jaemin sucks his teeth.

“Come on, come on, come on.” He’s alight with a buzz, the jitters settling in as the page finally loads, only for his heart to drop to the bottom of his stomach.

User ‘PL4YG1RL’ does not exist. Please try a different search term.

Jaemin stares at the screen incredulously, anger and frustration building slowly but steadily and now he swears he really can feel bile rising in his throat.

“Impossible.” He spits through gritted teeth, now dangerously close to losing his composure. He’s waited three months—three fucking months—to see you again, and you’ve managed to slip through his fingers.

He refreshes the page in a refusal to accept the situation, gripping the phone so tightly his knuckles turn white, and has to restrain the urge to slam the phone down on the grimy tiles in defeat when the page finishes loading to show the same screen as before.

“Fuck, shit, fuck!” Jaemin slams his hand against the wall of the bathroom stall before growling, his tethers to sanity starting to slip away the further he spirals into his thoughts.

“Inmate, what’s going on in there?” One of the guards from the hallway calls out, the bass in his voice snapping Jaemin back to reality.

“Got sick from the Sloppy Joes,” Jaemin grunts back, running his fingers through his hair and barely restraining himself from yanking the locks out at the root.

“Those always seemed odd to me, y’know.” Another voice, a thinner, more mousy voice sounds out, presumably the less imposing of the two guards. “Always thought they smelled kinda funny.”

“Yeah.” The burly guard is dismissive at best, and whatever the mousy guard says as a follow-up comment goes unheard by Jaemin as he refocuses his attention on the disappointing sight on his phone screen.

Jaemin stands up finally, shutting the phone off and pocketing it once more. He flushes the toilet with his foot and exits the stall, washing his hands. He stares himself down in the dirty bathroom mirror, at the dark circles that have formed under his eyes since his time in prison began, the scowl Jaemin’s mouth is unwaveringly twisted into, and he grits his teeth. He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands, and heads out of the bathroom and back to the library with a building resolve in his chest.

Jaemin will find you again—no matter what it takes.

thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :) tips are greatly appreciated!

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#jaemin smut #nct smut #na jaemin smut #nct dream smut #tw noncon

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