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retrosabers · 6 days

Note

I am so glad you've found your spark again to write!

Could I please request a smutty Logan fic with "I can't control myself around you" and "Fuck, make that noise again"

Thank you!!

thank you anon :( that genuinely means a lot to me, i hope you know that! sorry this took a little while, my brain was trying to cook up the most delicious scenario possible and this is what it came up with. thank you so much for your patience & your request! i hope you enjoy 😋

𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔.

logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: logan shows you just how much he likes seeing you in his clothes.

contains: smut content below the cut. MINORS DNI. oral (fem receiving), fingering, a wee bit of overstimulation if you squint, swearing, logan being hot as fuck per usual, somewhat rushed ending

word count: 2k

it’s nearly impossible for a man like logan to die.

the adamantium fused to his skeleton coupled with insane regenerative capabilities meant there were only a select few scenarios that could end his life. those usually involved a lot of science; insanely specific logistics requiring lengthy explanation.

but this? the simple sight before him? just might be what takes him out.

you’re standing in the kitchen making coffee clad in nothing but one of his flannels, humming along to some random tune that was playing on the radio. it shocks him, stopping the man dead in his tracks on his way out of the bedroom. despite having spent the night with you a few times before, your relationship was still fairly new, and clothes sharing was one of the few intimacies you had yet to indulge in.

until today.

a mixture of emotions begin to stir in his chest. logan’s heart warms over the domesticity of it, realizing he didn’t want to wake up any other morning if it wasn’t like this. if it wasn’t with you. there’s a hint of possession, knowing his scent was lingering on your skin. he hopes that maybe you’ll wear his clothes out of the house one day, a physical reminder to everyone around you that you were his, and only his. the lust hits him the strongest as he really takes a second to look you over.

the hem of the shirt sits at the top of your thighs. logan knows if you bend over in any capacity, he’ll catch a glimpse of the skimpy little panties he ripped off your body last night. his favorite pair to be exact. one of the sleeves hangs slightly off your shoulder, granting him a peak at some of the marks left just a few hours ago. the man smirks to himself, recalling how you mewled beneath him while he bit and sucked at the delicate skin of your neck. then, when you finally turn around and catch him staring, you give him a bird’s eye view of your cleavage where the shirt was barely buttoned.

you look like something out of a dream. and he almost can’t believe you’re real.

“it’s rude to stare you know,” you tease him, leaning your hip against the counter. it makes the shirt ride up even further and logan nearly salivates.

god, do you even know what you’re doing to him?

logan moves from his position against the wall, pushing off it and slowly stalking towards you. his voice is rough and gravelly, still heavy with sleep.

“can’t help it bub. not when you look this good.”

you scoff. his large hands come to squeeze at your hips while yours rest across his bare chest, softly scratching at the layer of hair that sits atop it. “could say the same thing about you handsome.”

logan hums in content as he presses his lips against yours. it's slow and saccharine, a nonverbal good morning that makes you melt into him. his hands wander across your figure, caressing every curve he’s gotten to know like the back of his hand. when his palms slip under the hem of the shirt and begin to paw at your ass, you sigh into his mouth.

“i like you in my clothes,” he mumbles against your skin as his mouth travels to your neck, pressing languid, sensual kisses against the blooming marks.

“yeah?” you breathe out in reply, hands finding purchase in his messy hair.

“yeah,” he replies right next to your ear, voice dripping in desire. “let me show you just how much.”

you hum, amused by his arousal. “last night wasn’t enough for you, bub?”

it’s logan’s turn to laugh. a deep, almost condescending sound that vibrates through your entire body.

you whimper at the loss of contact when he pulls away, only to let out a squeal seconds later when he hoists you onto the countertop in one swift motion. you flush, eyes widening at the display of his strength. the way he could manhandle you with ease was something you had yet to get used to.

“darlin’ you should know by now i can’t control myself around you,” he coos. “especially when you’re parading around lookin’ like this.”

you preen at his words, letting out the softest little sound and he gleams with pride. his eyes rake over you once more, setting your skin ablaze with all the hunger that was swimming in those hazel irises. one hand rests snugly around your hip, while the other inches towards the apex of your thighs.

logan’s thumb rubs soft circles into your skin, his pointer finger teasing the waistband of your underwear. your breath hitches at the touch, a barely there gesture that makes warmth pool in your belly. how he manages to get you so worked up over so little, you have yet to discover. he retracts his digit, letting the elastic snap against your skin. you flinch in his hold and he chuckles.

“relax,” he says, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. “i gotcha.”

there’s no better way to start your day than by watching logan sink to his knees in front of you. the early morning light peeks in through the curtains, casting a golden halo around his head while he starts his path up your bare legs towards where you needed him most. he looks heaven sent, and you silently thank whatever gods existed for the beautiful man kneeling between your thighs.

his kisses against your skin grow sloppier the closer he gets to your core. logan inhales deeply, catching wind of your arousal. the scent was maddening, a perfume he could never grow tired of. knowing that he was behind it, that you were just as hungry for him as he was for you, rials him up even more.

his voice is low and sensual, bordering on smug when he states, “clearly last night wasn’t enough for you either.”

logan yanks the hem of his shirt up, exposing your lower half. he presses a wet kiss against your clothed mound, inhaling your sweet aroma. you sigh, your hips moving forward on their own accord, desperate to feel more of him.

“logan,” you breathe out. “don’t tease.”

“don’t tease?” he parrots your question. “you’re one to talk.”

“s’just a shirt.” you reason meekly, still not fully awake yet, and somehow already drunk on logan.

“not to me darlin’” his breath is hot and heavy against your cunt as he finally grants your wish, pulling your panties to the side and licking a long stripe up your center. “not to me.”

you’re almost embarrassed over the moan that comes out of your mouth, but god do you feel good. logan doesn’t waste any time, yanking your underwear down your legs before he starts to devour you like a man starved. his tongue darts back and forth between your entrance and your swollen clit, a delicious rotation that has you feeling boneless in record time. you throw your head back, hand reaching out to grip onto his brown locks.

its moments like these where you wonder how you were ever with anyone else before him. nothing and no one could compare to the pleasure that logan brought. his desire for you was never fully satiated, and when you look down to catch logan staring back at you with lidded eyes, you don’t think yours will ever be either.

“feel good?” he asks rhetorically, knowing the way your body responds is answer enough. all you can muster out of your mouth is a high pitched whine as he slips two fingers into your entrance without warning.

logan’s cock twitches in his boxers at the sound. “fuck, make that noise again for me baby.”

with the combination of his fingers pumping in and out of you, and his lips sucking harshly on your clit, you unintentionally obey his command. it’s music to logan’s ears, encouraging him to pick up the pace.

you can feel the muscles in your abdomen growing taught. a sign that your orgasm was approaching. logan, ever the observer, yanks you closer, throwing your legs over his shoulders and dangling your ass off the edge of the kitchen counter.

with the new and better angle, your back arches, causing the shirt to fall even further off your shoulder and exposing more of your flushed skin. with your eyes fluttering and your mouth dropped open in the most perfect pout, logan thinks you’ve never looked more beautiful.

not as beautiful as when you’re cumming however. that part he was determined to have happen sooner than later.

“fuck,” you preen, beginning to grind against his face as your hips fall into a steady rhythm. “don’t stop.”

“wasn’t planning on it.” he mumbles against your folds, his tongue now accompanying the thick digits.

his cockiness only expedites your release. with one hand gripping the counter and the other tugging at your boyfriend’s hair, you teeter close to the edge. at the pull of his locks, logan groans into your pussy, his nose nudging at your clit. the shockwaves that spread through your body feel like wildfire, and it’s the most wonderful way to burn.

“gonna cum for me honey?” logan questions, curling his fingers in just the right way, knowing that’s the spot to hit to guarantee your climax. you nod, too focused on the growing pressure in your core to speak actual words. the only thing you’re capable of right now is a string of curses with logan’s name sprinkled in between. it falls from your lips like a prayer as your orgasm creeps up the back of your neck.

when it hits, it washes over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the most electrifying kind of bliss. with one final, loud moan, your hips jolt foward, thighs tightening around logan’s head all the while his ministrations continue. he always rode out your high until you were gently shoving him off from the overstimulation.

“lo,” you breathe out, slowly coming back down to reality. he hums between your legs in acknowledgement, ceasing his actions and offering one final kiss to your sensitive clit before rising to his feet.

his already sleep mused hair was ruffled even further from your grabby hands. there’s a dreamy sheen in his eyes, from the early morning or your release soaking the lower half of his face, you’re not sure. whatever it was, he was beaming, smiling at you with so much affection and adoration you felt like you could explode. a stark contrast to the filth that took place mere moments ago.

“if i had known that wearing your shirt was going to result in that, i would’ve stolen it a long time ago,” you joke, pulling up the sleeve to cover yourself.

logan snickers, slotting himself between your spread legs and finding your lips once more.

“looks way better on you anyways” he murmurs between kisses, ravaging your mouth while caressing your jaw. tasting yourself on his tongue was always a dizzying thing, even more so at the thought of what was in store as you felt his very prominent bulge rubbing against your thigh.

“is that so?” you challenge, tracing your fingers along the trail of hair that travels below his waistline. you don’t miss the way his muscles flex under your touch, the way he grows even harder at the jest.

logan pulls back, the picture of sex and smugness as the corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk. he makes a show of sucking your juices off his fingers, groaning dramatically as they enter between his spit soaked lips. when he nods in the direction of the bedroom, you’re already getting wet again, knowing exactly what the rest of your morning is going to entail.

“go in there, and lay down with your pretty little ass up for me will you?”

you quirk a brow, loving to push his buttons. little acts of defiance always made the end result worth it after all.

logan smacks his palm against your bare ass, taking pleasure in the little yelp you let out and the dazed look in your eyes.

“m’not done with you just yet.”

thanks for reading! <3

#retrosabers #sid writes shit #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #hugh jackman #xmen

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seungfl0wer · 1 month

Text

Seungmin As Your Boyfriend

Contains Smut 🩷

Did I indulge myself with this? Yes. Could have I written a novel? Yes I stopped myself before it got way too long lol.

-🩵

•Definitely shy when yall first start dating, cute little awkward thing he’d be.

•However after getting close he’s never shutting up now.

•Teasing him about how he went from barely talking or making eye contact.

•To this man who openly flirts with you in public.

•A true menace in disguise.

•Playful teasing all the time.

•But it’s a mutual thing.

•You stutter he’s making fun of you.

•He drops something you’re doing it right back.

•It’s honestly one of those things that makes him love you even more.

•Knowing you two can joke around like this, “you’re an asshole but you’re my asshole.”

•Ya’ll adopting a dog at some point too.

•I don’t make the rules.

•You gotta buy a puppy for your puppy right?

•He loves having you lying in his chest so he can sing to you.

•All cuddled up just listing to his beautiful voice.

•He gets so blushy when you compliment his voice too

•Oh god does he. He’ll try and hide his face but you can see it creep to his ears too.

•And if he’s lying on your lap?

•Play with his hair.

•Please. Just do it. This might be his favorite thing in the world.

•Just lying with you, as you play with his fluffy hair.

•This is his happy place, the place where all his stress disappears.

•He’s honestly just so soft for you.

•He’s so attentive and reads you really well.

•He can tell if you’re having a bad day even before telling him.

•He’ll grab your favorite things to make you feel better.

•He remembers a lot of things you’ve said.

•I feel like he’s that kinda guy that just remembers all the little details about what you like or have told him.

•He’ll stare with those big puppy dog eyes full of love.

•He’s honestly very enamored by you.

•How can someone be so perfect?

•Not to mention how can someone so perfect be his?

•Of course he’ll never admit this.

•Not saying he doesn’t do his share of mushy things.

•But he’s seungmin, he has to end the sweet convos with a dumb comment like “cause I’m the perfect boyfriend duh”

•Likes calm dates.

•Like going for coffee or to book stores.

•Will make forts in the living room to watch movies.

•I feel like he’s also one of those people who sends you flowers while you’re at work.

•Likes to write cute notes on them to get you all blushy at work.

•Probably has you in his phone as something like “My Dummy” or something like that.

•In such a loving way though.

•Also probably has the dumbest nicknames for you.

•His nicknames range from something cute like “puppy” to “my little dumpster fire”

•Hand holding always.

•Will pout when you let go “so what if our hands are sweaty”

•Loves PDA when it makes you all blushy.

•He’ll also do the whole “kiss you to shut you up”

•He really enjoys your kisses.

•Also will never admit how much it melts his heart seeing you in his hoodies.

•He’ll snap cute pictures of you in them.

•Has so many ugly photos of you in a locked folder so you can’t delete him.

•So he can “use them for black mail”

•He’s just a kind soul who’s a little rough around the edges but you are too.

•He’ll always make you feel loved and cared for. You’ll also always know what he says is his true feelings.

•He never sugar coats things and is always honest with you.

︵‿︵‿୨Smut Below୧‿︵‿︵

•This little ass is such a tease.

•Will put his hand on your thigh slowly sliding it up.

•He’ll pull you to his lap, gripping your hips as he pushes himself against you.

•Would definitely send you dirty texts in public to see you get all red.

•Whatever mood he’s in you’re getting a different person in bed.

•Some days he’s more aggressive than others.

•Pushing you up against the wall leaving hickeys all over your neck.

•His hand wrapped around your throat as he teases your sensitiveness.

•When he’s fucking you like this he’s like a dog in heat.

•Multiple rounds until you’re both spent.

•He’d love when you’d scratch his back so deep or bite his shoulder.

•Just a way to show others how good he fucks you.

•He’d definitely be doing the biting back, pulling your hair and spanking you.

•On the other hand he has those lazy days were it’s the most loving sex of your life

•It’s so sensual laying in bed while he’s whispering how much he loves you as he’s thrusting slowly into you.

•Touching your sensitiveness lazily. Just savoring every moment.

•I feel like he’d be a small bit possessive of you.

•So he’d probably say stuff like “You’re all mine” “No one else can make you feel this way”

•He’s more of a talking when it’s rough but the moans and groans he lets out.

•Especially when he’s just lost in you they’re just- beautiful?

•A horn dog honestly.

•Constantly just wants you.

•He’s so damn needy when he’s on tour too.

•Whines about how he needs you cause his hand doesn’t help.

•Aftercare is normally more quiet as he just holds you close kissing you softly.

•Rubbing your body as you both catch your breath.

•A small “you ok?” He’d say and if it’s a yes he just pulls you closer to him.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

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nicksolemnlyswears · 2 months

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hi! i just saw the ask you answered about leaving aemond out and i giggled.

if i may offer an idea, what about if reader finds out where aemond goes to find comfort (the brothel) and is upset because she thought differently of him but maybe he confesses what he actually does there (tittie suckin and therapy) and she offers aemond her own comfort. maybe reader looks more like their mother and it's exactly what aemond wants/needs. he's such a broken boy with horrible mommy issues.

this is not me at all telling you that you NEED to write a fic about this. i just had this idea jumbled around in my head and i don't know how to write it myself. 😂

thank you for your fics. they are truly wonderful. 💜

pairing: aemond targaryen x hightower!reader

word count: ~8.3k

warnings: 18+, cursing, spoilers of s2 of hotd, talks about brothels and prostitutes, fingering, p in v, lactation (milk play? i don't even know what i did), nipple play, slight mommy kink (or a lot depending how you see it), talks of infidelity, slight somno, riding

a/n: it's funny that this ask was sent cause i had something similar in mind. so this came super easily to me. i added some fire to the reader cause after ep 4 of hotd i was so angry at aemond (and still am). i can't believe he did that to aegon (he's my boy of the season) not to mention what he did to queen meleys and queen rhaenys. i'm not sure if i'd be able to forgive him. @heybank i hope this is somewhat like what you had in mind!

it came out a little longer than expect but nonetheless i hope you all enjoy! also aemond is stubborn in this fic but an equally stubborn reader and i love her for it. the reader and aegon are lowkey besties because i only want the best for him lol so don't mind that. i am ecstatic for the next episode and see the fall out of ep 4.

do you know the struggle i had to find aemond's whore's name. omg most difficult part of this oneshot.

after this fic i think i need to go to church and confess. i'm sure the priest will douse me in holy water and make me pray a hundred holy marys or something.

enjoy!!

It slipped out in the midst of their endless teasing and banter. The one secret Aemond never wished for you to find out. You're strong enough to know about the others; you recognize who he truly is at his core: an ambitious, envious man, but this one secret? This one he prayed you never knew about.

Aegon and you had been indulging in the sweet wine imported from High Garden. A delicacy that made your head fuzzy and your body loose. After finding you strolling all alone through the gardens, he insisted on drinking with you. If someone were to appease him by complaining about matters of the council, it would be you.

Those meetings drag on for hours on end on multiple occasions during the day as ravens fly in to share news of the brewing war. It robs you of your husband's attention and robs Aegon of his will to live as they tell him what to do and say, completely ignoring any input he might have—as idiotic as it may be.

You meet your distant cousin midway, complaining about how boring the meetings are and how uptight everyone is, including your husband. You offer the new King honest advice disguised as flippant comments, hoping he'll accept it even if he thinks of it as his own.

"It's not like I'm the only one who indulges in the pleasure of the street of silk. Every nobleman loves to get their cock wet by those whores," Aegon mumbles as a response to being reprimanded for his escapade late last night with his guards.

The charitable King paid for the villager's drinks and entertainment for the night. It was a prosperous night for the brothel. The 'ladies' will do just about anything to get coin. Who says the King doesn't aid his subordinates in need?

You stifle a laugh with the back of your hand and shake your head at him, "Yes, but you're the King now. It's not about laying with a commoner. It's about security. There are people who would do just about anything to gain Rhaenyra's favor, including hurting you, Aegon…"

Reasoning with Aegon is a challenge. His mind spins in ways you will never comprehend, but you try to keep your cousin safe while appeasing the council.

If Aegon values something, it's his life. If he knows there is danger out there, he will hold back, even if it's for a night or two. Her duty as his friend is to keep reminding him of all the danger lurking in the dark corners of the silk street.

"I suppose you're right, dear cousin. Guess we'll have to bring them here," he laughs as he thinks of the pandemonium it will cause. "I'll have Thalia and Margery or perhaps Dorothy. Hell, why limit myself? I'm the King! The guards can have their pick of the lot, Aemond will have his old reliable, and Lord Lannister can have the beautiful Sarah."

Aegon tips his goblet, drinking the last drops of wine to quench his dry mouth, failing to notice his slip-up.

Aemond's name sends a burning chill down your spine, and your mouth turns to cotton as it dries up. As you repeat Aegon's words, your heart promises to break out of your ribcage. Surely, you misunderstood his words.

"Aemond's old reliable?" You laugh to keep Aegon at ease. Grabbing the pitcher of wine to fill both of your cups, urging him to drink more and get his tongue looser. He won't remember your interrogation by morning.

"Ah yes, the first woman he fucked. Thanks to me, might I add. He still loves to visit her. I'd say her tits got him all enamored."

Just like the women in court, Aegon prattles on and on about everything he knows about Aemond and his whore. Including how he found him laying with her just last night—naked as the day he was born, blue sapphire glinting freely under the candlelight.

Blinding hot fury courses through your veins, lighting you up in flames from the inside out. Aegon will assume your reddening face and chest are from the wine and his vulgar words. There is no use in correcting him as you urge him to continue talking.

By night's end, you are equally as drunk as Aegon. The Guards escort you both to your respective chambers, watching amusedly how you argue with Aegon about whose dragon is strongest, Sunfyre or Dreamfyre. In reality, you were plotting which sibling would aid you in yelling dracarys in Aemond's direction.

You wish the alcohol would make you forget, but the sad truth is you will remember every single detail. The pounding headache you'll have in the morning will be a painful reminder of the secrets spilled over red wine.

For a fortnight, you sit and think about the valuable information Aegon shared with you. Anger burns ardently inside of you as it has nowhere to go. As a lady of the court, you're not allowed to train with the men, and as a Hightower, you have no dragon to channel that anger through.

If your fury were to be caused by any other reason, you'd find release in Aemond's arms. His aching cock stroking your drenched walls fervently. His sweaty skin sticking to yours. His fingers digging into your curves to find purchase. The low tone of his voice in your ear whispering words you'd never dare repeat and shamefully make you peak around him.

The thought makes you sick. How many times has he fucked her in such a way? Is it different? Does he let go and fuck her harder as he's not afraid she'll break?

Thinking is your worst enemy. As you imagine every possible scenario, your insecurities rise from their hiding spots. Does he love her? He laid bare with her; he must feel something if he allowed her to see him in such a vulnerable position.

The memory of the first time he took off his eyepatch in your presence pains you. So many conversations and stones of trust had to be set to get to that point, yet he did it with her. A common whore that dares ask for coin to please him with her presence.

You are different from the other ladies of the court who accept their husbands sleeping around with unknown women. You are jealous and territorial, something Aemond knew when you married. Under the eyes of the seven, he swore that his loyalties lay solely with you.

Alas, all men do is lie. Not even the noblest of men can be trusted. All you asked for was a good husband that would not embarrass you. How foolish of you to believe Aemond would be it.

Your fury grows and manifests as you observe Aemond and his whereabouts. It's hard to keep your anger at bay, but he's too busy plotting with Criston Cole to notice your withdrawing nature and emotional distance.

Visiting his quarters nearly every night tells you all you need to know. In that fortnight, you find him missing a multitude of times. There's no doubt he's in the brothel. Where else might he be deep into the night as the world sleeps?

When you ask about his location, the guards hesitate and stumble over their words. They try to save their necks by lying because the Prince continues to slip from their grasp time and time again. They are not as skillful at lying as your husband.

Having had enough, you wait for Aemond's return in his quarters. A goblet of wine is balanced between your fingers. The red liquid swirls along the rounded goblet, mimicking how your anger swirls around you.

You observe the map laid out on the wooden table. His plans are incredibly different from Aegon's. You pity the King as his most trusted advisor and Hand do as they please behind his back.

You've barely drank the wine. The goblet is merely a distraction from your fidgeting hands. You do not need the courage it provides; your anger fuels your intentions.

Old stone rumbles and sets behind you. Turning on your seat, you find Aemond emerging from one of Maegor's tunnels. This is how he sneaks out so damn easily.

"Wife," Aemond greets, keeping his composure, but his tense posture reveals shock. Your husband tends to wear a relaxed stance in your presence. You're the last person he expected to be waiting for him.

"Husband," you reply. The word is bitter on your tongue.

"What brings you in so late? You should be resting," Aemond speaks, taking off his cloak and approaching your seated figure.

Your eyes lazily move up to meet his. "Rest," you chuckle humorlessly. "I haven't been able to find rest in weeks."

"Does something ail you? Should I call a maester?" He asks, giving you a once over. Other than the dark circles around your eyes, there seems to be nothing out of place.

You're still you. Beautiful copper hair that easily identifies you as a Hightower flows down your back, and big brown eyes that resemble his mother's look back at him, although contempt has replaced the unconditional adoration that typically resides there.

His worry sickens you. His existence is an annoyance like a pebble in your shoe. You've harbored this anger for too long, and simple distaste can quickly transform into hate.

"Where were you?" You ask, raising an eyebrow. He's not going to get out of this. He must face the consequences of his actions. You will not live in bitterness while he runs around doing as he pleases.

"Conducting some business for the King." Aemond tilts his head, observing your posture and the set of your eyebrows. There's an electricity around you that shoots warning signs at him.

"Where. Were. You?"

"I'm afraid it is none of your business," Aemond says with a sharp exhale. He steps away to avoid your glaring gaze, unbuckling his sheath and setting it on one of the many desks that litter his room.

"I didn't realize we were keeping secrets from each other." The goblet's thud on the table is as loud as your unspoken fury. Wine splashes on the map like blood will spill in battle.

"There are always secrets. I have them. You have them," Aemond answers, leaning back on the desk.

Your hands smooth down the fabric of your dress as you stand. Finding his calculating gaze, you say, "So that's what you call your whore over at the silk street? A secret? I thought her name was Sylvi?"

Aemond freezes, and his muscles tense. You can't possibly know. He's entirely still as if the action would stop time and give him a chance to come up with an explanation, a lie. "I do not know what you speak of," the hesitancy of his voice unveils the cruel truth.

"Spare me the lies, and do not treat me like a naive maiden, Aemond. You know how much I loathe being made a fool," you snap loudly.

Aemond takes three long strides to reach you. Reacting, you take a step back but have nowhere to go. He doesn't touch you, but Aemond towers over you as he glares back. "Who told you? Was it Aegon?" He hisses.

"Please," you scoff. "The maids talk, the guards talk, husband. It was only a matter of time. Did you think I'd never find out? Are you truly that dense, Aemond?"

Your glare is sharp enough to cut him. He fell in love with that look when directed at others, but now that it's looking straight at him, he finds it's the one thing he might hate most.

All people around him have looked at him like that at some point. Aegon. Daemon. Jacaerys. Alicent. All except for his sweet sister and you, his beloved wife.

That look alone makes him regret stepping into the brothel many moons ago.

You should've never found out about Sylvi. It was meant to be a fleeting moment, but the war takes a toll on everyone, including Aemond.

Alicent's disapproving attitude towards him after Lucerys' incident led him to the whore more times than he can count as he sought the comfort Alicent never gave him and he craved.

"What is it that whore gives you that I do not?" You maintain eye contact as your chest presses against his. Your stubbornness will not let you back away from this argument. You deserve an answer.

You thought you were a good wife. Because of you, Aemond has two sons. You provided male heirs, a nobleman's dream. You warmed his bed whenever he asked and even when he didn't. You confided in him. You chose him.

"Talk, damn it. Your scheming plans won't get you out of this one," you yell, slamming your fists on his chest. Picking a fight is the only thing you have left. You want to scream at him until your voice turns raw.

"There is nothing to say. She's a quick fuck; that's all she is," Aemond seamlessly lies, grabbing your thundering fists. His thumb rubs over the back of your hands, hoping the calming gesture will tame your anger.

"A quick fuck? I could've been queen if I tolerated Aegon's quick fucks. The option was right there, and I chose you because I stupidly believed you'd make a better husband," you scream as your cheeks turn an unbelievable shade of red.

"Wife, please," Aemond pleads as you remind him.

The choice to wed you was not his to make. It was entirely yours. Each night, he prayed you'd choose to marry him. A woman of incredible smarts and hypnotizing beauty deserved to be with a man who acknowledged those attributes, not a blundering man like Aegon, who would only use her for her body.

"Do not touch me," you spit, tearing your wrists from his grasp and pushing him back with all the muster you could gather. "How dare you try to touch me after you've laid with her? After you fucked her? You repulse me."

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you spew your words. Aemond stands there, taking it all of your fury—he deserves it. What you hate the most is that he does nothing to defend himself, as if all of your words are the maddening truth.

"It was not my intention to hurt you," Aemond swallows as tears fall down your cheeks.

"These tears do not stem from hurt. They are from humiliation. You embarrassed me, Aemond. Do you know how many hours I've spent praising you in front of the other ladies of the court, speaking about how perfect of a husband you've been these past two years?"

Your pride might be bigger than his, and he's done the worst thing he could ever do— wound it. Such a prideful woman will only forgive him if there's a good enough reason and with lots of begging.

At his silence, you push past him and reach for the door. "I've made my duty as your wife and given you two sons. Do not expect more from me. Go to your little whore and see if she'll perform the wifely duties you asked from me." With one more glance towards your husband, you slam the door.

It is no mystery why Aemond is in a mood from that night forward. Guards stand straighter with him around, Aegon's so-called friends keep quiet, and Criston Cole bears the brunt of it all as Aemond calls him to spar. Each passing day becomes more brutal.

You have stayed true to your word and kept your distance from Aemond. You've never felt as far away from him as when you sit by him during meals. You no longer place your hand on his thigh when Aegon throws jabs at him or smile his way when he says something worth admiring.

If you must address him regarding the children, you do so but with a straight face and without awaiting his answer. The Red Keep has turned grey as you no longer pull him through the halls between duties to find a dark corner to kiss or touch him. Fleeting moments he truly cherished.

He's losing you, and he doesn't know what to do to fix it. He's sure that you will never look at him the same if he comes clean with the truth. It will burn whatever thread is left of your marriage.

"Aemond, what's the matter?" Alicent asks. They're in her quarters discussing one of the many plans to prepare for war, and yet he's not paying attention.

"Nothing," he says softly, eyeing the map in front of him. We should send our men to the east."

Alicent tilts her head and sits across from him, studying him closely. "Is this about your wife?"

The glint the young Hightower carries is missing. Her constant search for Aemond throughout the day has ceased abruptly, startling Alicent and Helaena. She rarely mentions him, only speaking about him when asked, and even then, her words have bite.

Alicen believed her son could do no wrong regarding his wife. Aemond adored you. He pinned after you from the moment it was announced that you were searching for a husband.

Alicent was hesitant at first. Marrying inside the family was a queer Targaryen custom, not a Hightower one, yet Otto insisted. Another Hightower in the Red Keep meant more power. He pushed you to marry Aegon while Aemond asked Alicent to consider him instead. She left it in your hands. It was only fair that you made the choice of who you shared your life with.

Aemond is silent momentarily, "She's upset with me." His words are short as he avoids talking about the subject.

"What did you do?" Alicent sighs disappointedly, leaning back on her chair. Why must her sons ruin all good things in their lives?

Alicent's reaction causes him to close back up just as quickly. Yes, it is his fault, but his mother's lack of faith is disheartening. Once upon a time, Aemond would've confided in his mother, but recent events have severed that trust. "My marital problems are none of your concern."

"Then how am I to help you fix this?" She asks in a knowing tone. Alicent feels the weight of her house on her shoulders. She's responsible for keeping everything together.

"I don't recall asking for your help, mother." Aemond ignores her judging eyes, moving the metal pieces around the map. He was here to make war plans, not talk about his feelings.

"Very well," Alicent clears her throat, moving farther away from her son. The gods are punishing as each one of her children drift away from her.

Unlike Aemond's mother, you take your duty as a mother quite seriously. Your children are all you have, and you cherish them equally. You refused a wet nurse when you birthed your first, and when the second followed a year after, you proceeded to do the same.

Feeding them from your breast brings a wave of emotion that is impossible to describe. The bond that forms between mother and child is strengthened by this natural action. Why do the other ladies in court not do the same? All they do is gossip and indulge in the luxuries of the keep. They have no responsibilities other than to please their husbands and care for their children.

The loud cries of your youngest filter through the door and echo throughout the halls of the keep. The babe has been incessantly crying for the past hour for no reason. Feeding and changing his nappy did nothing to ease his discomfort, leaving you overwhelmed. Nonetheless, you continue to soothe your child because if you didn't, what kind of mother would you be?

You ignore Aemond as he steps into your chambers, bouncing the eleven-month-old in your arms. He must've followed the cries. "There, there, Baelor," you coo, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing through the thin strands of pale silver hair.

The babe continues to sniffle and release weak cries. The poor thing is exhausted yet refuses to sleep. He hangs onto his mother's dress and hair, opening and closing his chubby fist.

Aemond approaches you, extending his hands to take him from you, "May I?"

You cannot refuse him. Baelor is his son, and while he seeks the pleasure of common whores you know he adores his sons.

Baelor is fuzzy and complains when he's taken away from your warm embrace, but he immediately settles in his father's hold when he recognizes him. The smell of Aemond's leather clothes offered him the comfort he was searching for.

Baelor missed his father.

"Clearly, you're his favorite," you murmur, settling down in the chaise that faces the fireplace. You're worse for wear. It's hard to find rest when questions remain unanswered, and you've lost the person you love most.

"Only till it's time to feed," Aemond says to lighten the mood between you.

You scoff, removing your jewelry and tossing it on the cushion beside you. "Great, I'm a glorified cow, only used to feed."

Aemond falters, his hold on his son tightening as he curls closer into Aemond's neck. Baelor's soft breaths tickle his neck. "That's not what I meant, wife."

You continue to stare into the fire as tears line your eyes. "I know," you whisper. It's been a difficult day.

Had you not been betrayed by Aemond, you would've sought his attention and spilled all the thoughts running through your mind so he could tell you you were being unreasonable.

He would reassure you that you're intelligent, beautiful, a wonderful mother, cunning, captivating, and a dream come to life.

You're punishing yourself. You decided to distance yourself, and came to the horrid realization that it is much harder than you bargained. You underestimated what three years of always being together would do to you.

Aemond catches on to your apprehension and puts a sleeping Baelor on the cradle the nursemaid left by your bed. He returns to your side and kneels on the floor right by your feet.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes for the first time since that night. It's been a long, difficult four weeks without you by his side. He misses all the little things you did for him.

All the check-ups throughout the day to make sure he's broken fast or slept well. Brushing his hair at night before he takes you to bed and shows you his gratitude. Your eyes meeting his across the room, suggesting he takes you elsewhere for a stolen private moment away from everyone else.

He misses you telling him about everything Baelor and Rhaegar got up to in the day and about every new milestone they hit, suggesting they are as healthy as they can be. He misses the late nights spent tangled together, talking about what the future holds for you both, the idea of having a baby girl for Rhaegar and Baelor to protect.

"What do you apologize for now?"

"For betraying your trust. I made an oath and broke it, and for that, I apologize. It is my biggest regret in life," Aemond says, reaching for your hand. "Please, forgive me."

"Then why do you continue to lie?" You whisper as a tear rolls down your cheeks.

"That's the only truth there is," Aemond whispers breathlessly. You give him a pitiful chuckle and tug your hand away from his despite wanting to hold onto it forever.

Your nose burns as more tears spill from your eyes. Insecurity wrapping you in its arms. "Please, do not lie. Why do you want me to believe you went to the brothel for a fleeting pleasure when I have always been here? Am I not good enough for you?"

Your anger has simmered down to a smoky sadness that envelops you. Aemond is lying to you when you're the person he's supposed to trust the most. If there is a chance of rebuilding this marriage, he must tell you the truth, even if it ruins you.

"Gods, you are everything I wanted and more, my sweet wife," Aemond speaks, cupping your face to wipe away your salty tears.

He's at a loss. He's hurt you, but the pain can be remedied if he speaks the truth. How can he allow you to believe you're not enough when you're the perfect woman. His endeavors in the street of silk stem from his own damaged soul, never yours.

"I am afraid," Aemond confesses, brushing one last tear with the pad of his thumb before he retreats his hands. You stare back at him, puzzled. "It is not what you believe. I have not laid with another woman since I married you."

"Then what is it, Aemond? Because my mind has conjured up the worst of scenarios."

"You will not think of me the same," he says, ashamed, hanging his head to avoid your hurt gaze.

"Is that such a bad thing?" You ask aloud, and without awaiting his response, you continue to speak, "Until you work up the courage to tell me the truth, things will remain the same. No matter how much it hurts."

Standing, you leave Aemond kneeling on the floor to prepare for sleep. You glance over your shoulder and watch Aemond stare deep into the fire. When you step out of the privacy screen, he's gone.

It takes another week of agony for Aemond to come to a decision. He cannot bear having you so close yet so far away. He misses you and greatly underestimates how much happier you make him.

He hasn't been to the brothel since the night you confronted him. He barely spares it a thought nowadays. You are the only person wreaking havoc in his head.

He fucked up his marriage, and now he has to pay his dues, even if it means coming clean about his intentions with Sylvi. It was barely sexual, he hasn't fucked her since he married you, but he couldn't let go of the comfort she provided, and Alicent withdrew.

He's smart enough to know it's a farce. The women in the brothel will do just about anything if it means they are paid. But Aemond deluded himself into believing Sylvi cared about what he had to say and told her things he hadn't spoken to anyone else. She played the part well, giving advice freely and reassuring him with soft touches and softer words.

When the guard opens the door to Aemond's chambers, allowing you to enter, he instantly stands, approaching you to ask for your hand and kiss the back of it.

You raise an eyebrow at him but allow him nonetheless. The press of his lips to your skin sends a spark up your arm and down your spine.

"Wife," he greets, guiding you to sit.

"Aemond," you reply, not quite giving in to his sweet actions. Aemond summoned you with the promise of the truth. That is why you're here.

"How does the day find you?"

"Aemond, please," you plead. You came for the truth, and niceties won't do anything to soften the brunt of his words. Prolonging this won't help anyone.

"Very well," Aemond sighs, gesturing you to sit. His hands remain on his lap where he opens and closes them anxiously. "I met her when I was three and ten. Aegon forced me to the brothel because he thought it was time I…became a man."

You dare not speak as Aemond justifies his actions. You need to know the truth before your nerves consume you.

This is the tricky part of his story. After a brief pause, he clears his throat and continues, "She was far older than I was and offered something I lacked in the Keep. Comfort, solace, familiarity, whatever you want to call it. I continued to visit her throughout my youth, although it wasn't always to find release rather than someone to listen and give me what my mother never could."

Aemond avoids looking at you, afraid of what he might find written on your face. Perhaps disgust, shame, or disapproval.

He owed you the truth, so he spoke about all the details of this affair. How he liked the intimacy of lying naked with Sylvi, suckling at her breast. How she would hold him in her arms and touch him. The advice she would offer. The things they spoke about. How he rejects her when she makes any advances, thinking that's what he wants. He admits that he is completely vulnerable and free for those hours because she will have his side no matter what he says.

"Do you have feelings for her?" Your voice is barely above a whisper. It's terrifying to think he might harbor feelings for her. Such intimate acts easily allow feelings to infiltrate one's being. "Aemond, look at me."

Hesitantly, Aemond meets your eyes. Your face is blank, devoid of emotion that may indicate what you now think of him.

"No, and I never will," Aemond says, swallowing the lump in his throat. He chooses his words carefully, "She was an escape, someone to listen to the tragedy that was my life. She knew what I wanted and gave it unsolicited. I know it is not real, wife, but I was foolish enough to seek more."

The emotion that surfaces in your face is not directed at him; instead, it reflects the insecurities you have about yourself. "Did you not think I could give you what she did and actually mean it?"

Insecurities of his own rise up and make themselves shown, "I thought you would see me as a weaker man."

You're both so young with so much to learn, yet if there is one thing you're certain about, it's the love you share. That love would never make you see Aemond as weak; it would transform that quality he refers to as weak into something totally different and positive.

"You are not weak but a fool," you shake your head, reaching for him. It is your turn to cup his face to force him to focus only on you. "I know of those feelings you hide firmly, Aemond. I spent most of my childhood here in King's Landing. I watched while Aegon and the Strong boys teased you. I was here when you returned from Driftmark without an eye. I heard your cries of pain. You come off as this stoic man to everyone else, the fierce Aemond, but I know the real you."

"I am ashamed." Aemond is truthful. No more lies weight his beating heart.

"Do you swear to never look for her again? That you will come to me instead?"

"I swear it by the old gods and the new. I swear it by the seven. I swear it by my life," Aemond promises. "Will you return to me, wife?" He asks hopefully, placing his hands over yours, afraid your touch will leave him.

"Yes, husband," you nod, pressing your forehead against his.

Your lips find his as the last word you speak is uttered. It's been far too long, and his dragon blood is calling for you. Aemond is quick to react, moving his lips desperately against yours and pulling you to his lap.

He comes to you late at night once there are no more council calls or responsibilities to tend to. It's around that time when he has nothing to busy himself with, and the ache in his chest makes itself known.

It's a constant reminder that he is far from invincible. Pain and hurt live within him, ready to resurface at the most unexpected times.

"Husband." You greet him with a bright smile when he steps into your chambers.

"Wife," he speaks quietly, standing uncomfortably by your door. While he's agreed to come to you in his times of need, Aemond is unsure how to approach the situation.

"What is the matter?" A pout adorns your lips as you walk over to him. It's genuine concern.

Aemond stiffens when you approach him, tilting your head to assess him. You wrap your arms around his waist, searching for his gaze.

"Aemond?" You call to him softly.

"Please," he whispers with shaking hands that he places on your hips. The expensive material of your night shift is soft against his palms.

The tone of his voice and the reserved behavior tell you what he's asking for. You nod wordlessly and grab his hand, guiding him to your bed.

This is unlike those moments when passion takes over and desperate need forces you to tug and tear his clothes away. With patience and delicate fingers, you calmly help him undress.

Unbuckling the clasps of his leather doublet, you slide it down his arms and throw it to the side. The tunic that covers his chest comes off next, exposing the strong panels of his abdomen and the ropes of muscle of his arms. All a result of his extensive training.

Featherlight touches to his skin make his breath hitch as they slide down to his breeches, where you agilely untie the laces. You don't meet his eyes as you do so, giving him some resemblance of modesty, but Aemond watches intently how you treat him with such care.

You gently push him to sit on the bed, where you kneel to take off his boots and socks. Aemond allows his breeches to fall to the ground, leaving him completely naked, except for the eyepatch he wears like armor.

It protects him from the disgusted expressions people shoot him with because of the deformity he acquired as a child.

It never stops hurting.

You've never been repulsed by his missing eye. On the contrary, you're fascinated by the scar and the sapphire embedded in the empty socket.

Reaching around his head, you unclasp the leather and place the eyepatch with the rest of his clothing. You offer him a delicate smile while placing your hand on his cheek, and he leans into it.

Your touch on his raised scar eases the pain.

Withdrawing from him, you tug in the lacing of your night shift and shrug it off your shoulders to uncover your body. You had promised to offer him the same care she did in that wretched place.

The bed is covered by pillows and blankets to protect you from the cold of the incoming winter, and you mentally thank the maids for preparing the fire before they left you to rest. You lie over the furs, extending your hand towards Aemond to welcome him in.

Aemond's timidness is present, but he pushes it to the side as he climbs onto the bed and settles across your lap. Your skin is soft and warm against his, and your soft curves, molded to accommodate his children, bring him comfort.

As you brush through his hair with your fingers, you gently untie the band holding half of his hair up. You massage the silver tresses, his scalp prickling from the release of tension. He hums quietly, enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his hair.

"What troubles you, my Prince?" You finally ask.

Aemond's head rests on your shoulder, his breath hitting your collarbones. One of your hands rests upon his back, drawing figures across the expanse of it, feeling every bump and curve of his spine and muscles. The other grasps his hand, pulling it to your lips to press a reassuring kiss to the palm of it.

"That title. Prince." He murmurs sadly, taking a deep breath.

That familiar scent of oils invades his senses. It's a smell he remembers from his childhood when Alicent still cared for him. In turn, his body relaxes, and he closes his eyes momentarily.

"It is a stepping stone in the hierarchy," you reply, recognizing what he implies. Aegon does not have what it takes to rule a kingdom, while Aemond years to sit on the throne.

Aemond reaches up to grasp at a strand of copper hair. The same shade as his mothers. He twists it around his finger while shifting to make himself more comfortable. "I thought all of my achievements would be more fruitful," he ponders.

It seems that ruling a kingdom falls on the eldest male heir, even if they are not fit to rule. Aegon sits on the throne, yet the rest of the council rules on his behalf. This puts the Targaryen name to shame; the fool barely speaks High Valyrian.

"Patience is key. Aegon shows no signs of changing. He will be his own downfall," you respond thoughtfully. You hate thinking about Aegon in such a way, but it's the truth. He wants to prove himself so badly but goes about it all the wrong way.

Copper hair leads to naked skin the same shade as his mother's, and for once, he can imagine himself in his mother's embrace. It brings tears to his eyes as he curls further into you, and his nose brushes against your skin.

With the pillows propping you up and Aemond curled on your lap, you press a kiss to the crown of his head. Your touch runs all over his skin, from his face to his feet.

Aemond continues to speak his mind, and you offer the perfect responses to his dilemmas, calming him when his emotions get the best of him and tears spill from his eyes.

He should've come to you sooner. You're a high-born lady who knows much more about life in court. There were always warning signs with Sylvi. She tried to manipulate him into thinking about the common folk and their ailments more than once. She would never understand that while House Targaryen is at war, there is no space to think about the well-being of its subordinates.

When silence ensues, Aemond allows himself to look up at you. You're serene as you hold him close to your body without an ounce of impatience. The resemblance to his mother is there, but he got something much better.

He got a woman who loves him unconditionally, flaws and all.

Lacing his fingers with yours, Aemond closes his eyes and melts further into your touch. You hug him close and whisper your affections. This is how it was always meant to be.

That night, Aemond sleeps in your chambers. It would be wrong for him to leave after you've treated him with such tenderness. You are no simple whore from the street of silk. You are his wife, and as such, you are meant to be treated with utmost respect. Something he had failed to do but no more.

Breathy whines, wake him before the sun rises. Recognizing your voice, he wakes, looking at his surroundings for any danger. When you whine once more, he glances over at you.

You squirm in your sleep, seemingly uncomfortable. Something bothers you, but your exhaustion prevents you from waking. One of your hands reaches for your chest, and another whine spills from your lips.

Aemond's eye is drawn to the action. He reaches for the sheet covering your body and pulls on it to find the cause of your discomfort. His breath hitches, and his cock aches.

Your breasts are swollen and tender from being filled to their capacity, causing beads of milk to leak from the stiff peaks of your nipples.

Aemond briefly remembers you mentioning how Baelor has been fuzzy lately, and Rhaegar is getting older and doesn't seek you as often for food, yet you continue to produce copious amounts of milk. He has been blessed with a perfect wife and an excellent mother who produces enough sustenance for his children.

Aemond's pointer finger traces a path down your neck to your left breast. They are calling to him as his finger follows the curve of your breast up to your puffy areola and tip of your nipple. A slight press to the taught skin prompts more fluid to leak down your sides, and you hiss in discomfort.

Bringing his finger up to his lips, he licks the whitish liquid. Perhaps it's a mistake, as he's left wanting more. Aemond uncovers the top half of your naked body and leans over your chest. With one look towards your beautiful face, he wraps his lips around the plush flesh of your breast.A surge of liquid fills his mouth.

You have the sweetest milk he has ever had the pleasure of tasting. Aemond moans at the saccharine taste. It is so much better than the farce he had in the brothel. This milk comes from his wife, who nurtures his healthy sons.

A loud, sultry moan spills from your lips as some of the pressure is alleviated. You're now between sleep and awareness. Your hand cradling the back of Aemond's head.

Aemond's cock is painfully hard as it presses against your thigh. He's been driven into a frenzy, your milk serving as an aphrodisiac. His hand brushes against your inner thigh to answer a rising question.

Careful fingers find your wet slit, proving his theory right. He's not the only depraved person in the room. Your body is responsive to him even in altered states of consciousness.

Your cunt is absolutely drenched, making it so easy for Aemond to push a finger in. It's enough to fully wake you from your slumber. "Ah, Aemond." You throw your head back in pleasure.

It takes you a second to take in the entirety of Aemond's actions. The pleasure coursing through you, overwhelming your senses. A loud moan tears through your throat at the realization that Aemond is not simply teasing your breasts. Aemond feasts on your aching tits.

"Have your fill, my prince," you beg as that ache in your chest is pleasingly soothed.

Aemond is eager and rough. The light stubble of his jaw sends a current of electricity down to your cunt where you clench around his fingers.

"My Aemond, good boy." He responds to the praise why sliding another finger into your tight cunny. The slick sound of your arousal accompanies the suckling of his lips.

You squeeze your other breast to alleviate the tightening discomfort and drops fall on your hand. Drawn to it, Aemond switches, and you squeal as his teeth scrape the sensitive skin of your nipple.

Aemond ruts into your thigh as he quickens the pace of his fingers intruding on your cunny to part through your walls. The vibration of his quiet moans stimulates your swollen peaks.

If this is not heaven, he doesn't wish for it.

Your fingers tangle in his silver hair when you arch your back to offer yourself to him. His eye meets your hooded gaze and sets himself to give you whatever you please. His thumb circles your pearl expertly, and he curls his digits to hit your spot more firmly.

You cry in pleasure with your hips, riding his fingers until you come with a shudder and his name on your lips. Your walls clamp down on his fingers hard enough it is hard for him to retrieve them.

Aemond rises from your chest and pinches your cheeks with his fingers that remain coated with your slick, prompting your mouth to open. A stream of your milk falls from his mouth to yours as he gives you a sweet taste.

You believe another orgasm rips through your body as his lips press against yours to share a sweet tasting kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, allowing you the pleasure of tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Please," you beg for him, spreading your legs wantonly.

One to indulge his wife in all pleasures, Aemond pulls you on top of him, "Take what you desire."

His cock is fully erect and begging for attention. The tip is swollen and flushed a deep pink as it leaks pre that beads down his shaft.

Aemond acknowledges you've reached your limit when his beautiful wife, who adores worshipping his cock on her knees, grabs his length and sinks onto him without a preamble.

"Go on, my love, you can take it," Aemond hisses as you try to lower yourself to take all of him. His hands grip your hips tightly, urging you on. He swears your walls continue to contract from your previous peak.

"Aemond, husband," you moan lewdly. Your hips tentatively begin bouncing on him, and your tits follow to Aemond's delight.

He's mesmerized by them and how they continue to leak. Aemond mouths one more aggressively, teasing your nipple with his tongue, nipping at the surrounding flesh to leave his mark. His hand massages the other, allowing droplets to fall down your abdomen and onto your cunt.

"My perfect wife, such a good mother," Aemond mutters, praising you, "Pretty tits always full and her cunny always wet."

You hold onto Aemond's strong shoulders, your nails leaving marks across his back. Your hips grind on him deliciously as your clit rubs against his pelvis.

"Aemond, please," you beg, quickening your pace. You're on the verge of yet another delicious peak. "I want another." You'll have as many as he wants as long as he treats you with this much attention.

Aemond kisses up your neck and growls in your ear, "I shall give you as many as you'd like."

Swiftly, he turns you so your back is to the bed. He hikes your thighs up around his waist and snaps his hips fiercely. You first the bedsheets around you as Aemond holds bruisingly against your hips and thighs.

He's close to his own peak as well. Aemond manages to hold back because of all the attention he's giving your tits, but his cock cannot take anymore, especially with how deliciously your walls wrap around him.

Aemond admires his perfect wife. Your hair fans out on the pillows, and your facial expression morphs into one of pure ecstasy as you come once more. Your breasts are less swollen, but your stiff peaks remain puffy and flushed from his attention. Your cunt chokes his cock, knowing exactly what it takes to please him.

His rhythmic thrusting begins to falter, so with a couple more jerks of his hips and a groan, he paints your insides white. "There we go, all for you."

"Thank you," you lilt, biting your lip at the sensation of being filled.

You giggle when he leans down to kiss all over your face, a laugh of his own reaching your ears.

The door creaking open wakes you up, bringing the sheets to your chest, you sit up. Aemond lets the bedsheet fall to his lap, ready to scold whoever dares interrupt his time with his wife.

A small blonde head peaks in, and a big grin unleashes on its lips when he sees his parents. Young Rhaegar toddles into the room, and his head is barely seen as he stands on the edge of the bed. His tiny hands try to grasp the edge, but he's still too small to get himself up.

Aemond reaches over to bring him up, pressing a kiss on his head, but Rhaegar happily crawls over Aemond and falls into your waiting arms.

Aemond's exposed sapphire earns no reaction. In fact, the eyepatch tends to catch his son's attention more. Aemond ensured that when his sons came into this world, he would greet them as he truly is.

You pepper kisses all over Rhaegar's face, and he giggles, squirming on your lap. While Baelor favored his father, Rhaegar was entirely yours. "What are you doing here, little dragon?" You ask him sweetly.

The nursemaid stepping through the open door answers your question, "Prince Aemond, Lady Hightower. My apologies, he scurried away before I could-"

"It is alright. You may leave us," Aemond says, waving his hand to dismiss her. The young girl bows her head, hiding her blushing cheeks, and scurries away without saying another word, aware of the compromising position of the Prince and his wife.

"My sweetest, why are you up so early?" You coo, threading your fingers through his messy hair that sticks up in all directions.

Rhaegar hides his face on your chest, mumbling, "Missed you."

You gasp dramatically, facing the young boy with a surprised expression. "You missed me? I missed you!" Your son laughs and presses a wet kiss to your cheek.

"What about me, little dragon?" Aemond asks, tickling his belly.

Rhaegar cutely shakes his head with a mischievous smile, squealing loudly when Aemond reaches for him and takes him into his own arms to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar's childlike laugh pierces the air as he asks for your help.

"You're going to get me in trouble," Aemond grumbles, playfully glaring at his son as he continues to tickle him.

"Mama!" Rhaegar repeats, pushing Aemond's hands away and waiting for you to scold Aemond or something.

You watch the interaction with a wide smile. It's nice to see Aemond this calm. "Give me back, my little dragon, or there are no more kisses for you," you threaten Aemond with a furrow of your eyebrows and a pout. Aemond abruptly stops and loosens his hold on the toddler.

Rhaegar laughs and throws himself in your arms, hugging your neck. His giggles never cease. Aemond winks at you and pulls you to lie on his chest.

"How about we go see Vhagar later?" Aemond asks Rhaegar who calmed down to a drowsy state. It's still very early for him to have been up. He must've had a bad dream.

"Sunfyre?" Rhaegar gasps, looking up at his father. Aemond rolls his eyes and nods. He guesses he can invite Aegon so his son can see the golden dragon.

"That's your favorite, isn't it?" You ask him amusedly, although you agree. Sunfyre is a beautiful dragon and much friendlier than Vhagar.

Rhaegar nods enthusiastically as he babbles about the pretty dragon. You lay with your back to Aemond's chest as he envelops you both with his arms.

At that moment, Aemond realizes he feels fulfilled with his little family by his side.

it was not part of the plan to let this oneshot be this long. there is something about the complexity of aemond's character that doesn't let me write something brief.

nonetheless this was a super fun oneshot to write. it took me the whole week because i was so busy but i had been thinking about it nonstop. i think i overdid it with the lactation part but oh well!

if you enjoyed this oneshot please don’t forget to like or comment (i accept aemond's sapphire, rhaenyra's crown, criston cole slander, emojis, words of encouragement, a lot of praise, virtual hugs and gushing about sunfyre and aegon) and if you want more of it feel free to let me know!

-nikki 🖤

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noxtivagus · 2 years

Text

I'M SO EXCITED FOR MORE FF

#🌙.rambles #SORRY FOR THE MOOD SWINGS ON DASHBOARD #my brainrots r returning . am i gna return to my brainrot fictional days HMMM UWAH SM OF THEM WERE LEFT UNDONE.....#while i'm still young maybe i'll indulge myself ><#noctis for example back in 2020.... i wna rewrite that thing i wrote . n also write that one dream i still remember #🥺 N FOR OTHER STUFF TOO ! i wna get back into reading n writing like that again #i've been too busy lately but i don't want to let go of all that >< cringe but free 🫶🏼#god this is october i promised to myself i'll do a lot better #>.> it still hurts n my eyes r dry from crying but i'm gna do better. i'll do what i can #too much to do. i shouldn't have time to dwell on my regrets if i want to reach greater heights. i need my will to match my ambition #i really haven't been taking care of myself lately;;;#when i turn a year older!!!! on the day itself 7 days from now (oh my god it is already 21st here)#i'll start anew. i'm really gna make a new start. it won't all change overnight but i'll #i'll play video games again. i'll try to talk w my friends more. i'll pick up books to read. i'll write more n more.#i need more time.... but this is all i'll get for now. might as well make the most use of it #if i want to reach greater heights then i don't have time to waste on ruminating and dwelling on past mistakes. on my many regrets #YEAH THERE WE GO remember who i am. n what that entails for me. what that means for me. to love life and live and be myself #as the way i've always been. therein lies my answers. they've always been there. developing the more i learn n experience #like earlier it hurt a lot i think i've been bottling up some pain again unintentionally. n it got overwhelming w all my mistakes n the #overthinking n pressure BUT #we all get lost n confused. maybe most of the time i am but i've learned to live with it. even rn i do. i'm alive am i not?#n i think it's so easy for me to forget that. i'm really just human too. in the end more than all these constructs n obligations #there will always be things that mean more to me. for as much as i desire and aim for success. i'm happier when #i play ffxiv without comparing myself to other players. without dwelling on what i've missed out on. no pressure to catch up #when i'm writing freely about whatever i want to myself without any worry about how the rest of the world would perceive me.#no denials when it's just me.#i'm much happier when i'm with the people i love. my family n my friends. n the love i also have for the rest of the world #there. i remember. the little things matter to me more than. my mistakes. they weigh heavy but it gets much lighter when you're not alone #n i've always ever been like that. god wait i love ff so much thank you for making me remember myself #I GOT DISTRACTED.... I MEANT TO WRITE ABT THE NEW TRAILER SOB

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cloudcountry · 1 year

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1.5K FOLLOWER CELEBRATION

SUMMARY: The Octatrio takes you to the ocean, where you explore a shipwreck with them!!

WARNINGS: Jade & Floyd being slightly threatening? They imply that they'll drown you lol sillies.

COMMENTS: i had this in the works for like a week and i really like how it turned out!! (i'm especially fond of the floyd parts hehe) THERES ALSO SOME DEUCE CONTENT BC I COULDNT HELP MYSELF but thats only in the beginning wahhwawah ANYWAYS i hope ygys like this one!!!!!!!! im excited to hear what you all think!!!!!!!!

You slowly unfasten your arms from around Deuce’s waist as the blastcycle skids to a stop. Vehicles in Twisted Wonderland are still incredibly hard to get used to, even though you’ve been here for longer than you want to think about.

“Thanks for the ride.” you lean back, swinging your legs over the side with a smile, “I appreciate it.”

“Ah…no problem.” Deuce replies, eyes darting from the seemingly empty shoreline to you, “Just…if anything happens, call me. Okay?”

You sigh, touched by his concern. Lifting your hand, you extend your pinkie to him. He wraps his pinkie around yours, and when you whisper that you promise, he nods and lets you go.

“Thank you,” Deuce whispers.

It’s nice having people who want to protect you.

He drives off and you wave, even though his back is turned to you and it wouldn’t be safe for him to wave back. Once the roaring engine has faded completely, you turn your attention to the beach. There’s a set of wooden stairs leading down to the bay, and you take them down. The sand feels warm and inviting, and you kick your shoes off without a second thought. It’s odd, your three companions should be here by now, but you don’t question it too much. Those three do what they want when they want to, and there’s no telling what they decided to do today.

You spend a few minutes swiping at the sand, collecting a small pile of pretty shells. It’s a modest collection, nothing to write home about, but the childish act alone fills you with a glee you haven’t felt in quite a long time.

Perhaps Azul was right. A trip to the sea really might be all you need.

“Hello, angelfish.” a familiar voice croons from behind you.

You turn and barely manage to contain your surprise when you see Azul in casual shorts and a shirt. Although it’s plenty warm outside, the mental image you have of him always wears a suit. It’s a nice change.

“Hello, Azul.” you smile, and take the hand he extends to you.

A kiss that burns hotter than the sun is pressed to the back of your hand. Your arms fall back to your side far too soon.

“I do hope you’ll enjoy this little trip I’ve planned.” he muses, turning his attention to the water, “There’s a shipwreck a little ways from here that Floyd and Jade wanted to explore, you see. Bad things happen when I don’t indulge those two.”

Something tells you that you are also part of that indulgence.

“Where are they?” you ask, scanning the wide expanse of golden sand, “I didn’t see them when I arrived.”

“Ah…” Azul winces and shakes his head, pointing a single finger toward the water.

You turn just in time to see two pairs of glowing eyes peeking up from the water. They’re gone in an instant, and if it wasn’t for Azul’s uneasiness you would have thought you imagined it.

“They’re very sneaky, aren’t they?” you murmur.

Azul nods.

You shake your head, mimicking Azul’s earlier actions. Except you decide to take the route the three of them probably wouldn’t expect.

And so you start walking towards the water.

Azul sucks in air through his teeth and grabs your arm as if warning you not to go.

“It’ll be fine.” you turn back to him and pat his hand, offering him the most reassuring smile you can manage, “If Floyd gets a little too rambunctious and forgets that I can’t breathe underwater, I’ll have you to stop them.”

Azul hesitates but lets you go. He does follow you though, which is rather endearing.

It’s nice having people who want to protect you.

Once you reach the water, you start to sink into the sand. You keep walking until it’s reached your knees. There isn’t any sign of them, but you’re sure Floyd will ambush you sooner or later. You start moving again, eventually wading into the deeper part of the shoreline. Azul watches you apprehensively.

Something brushes your foot.

You can’t help but jerk, but the ticklish sensation makes you laugh.

Someone pinches your thigh, and you swat at them.

There’s a swarm of bubbles that surrounds you, and for a second you swear you can see a tail flick out of the water before a giant merman jumps out of the water and body slams you into the waves.

“Shrimpy!” Floyd cheers, squashing your faces together and splashing salt water everywhere.

“Hi, Floyd.” you giggle as he digs his webbed fingers into your sides.

“My my. No greeting for me?” Jade pouts, resting his chin on your other shoulder, “You’re so heartless, Pearl.”

“You didn’t even give me a chance!” you laugh, running your fingers through their hair, “Hello, Jade. I’m very happy to see the two of you.”

“Will you two be more gentle with them!?” Azul hollers, a sour look on his face, “They haven’t taken the potion yet, so you should be cautious!”

Floyd sinks into the water and blows annoyed bubbles. Jade just smiles serenely, making no move to leave your side. Azul groans loudly, exasperated.

“Azul, it’s okay.” you call, slowly making your way towards the shoreline with two mermen in tow, “If I didn’t want them here, I wouldn’t have come into the water.”

“Well, there you have it.” Jade smiles triumphantly, wrapping his tail around your leg, “The Little Pearl doesn’t mind one bit, do they Floyd?”

“Yeah, Jade. They don’t mind at all.” Floyd grins menacingly, wrapping his tail around your other leg.

“Guys, I need those.” you remind them gently, and they begrudgingly let you go.

It’s funny how they listen to you and not the man they call boss (who is still fuming on the shoreline.)

You clamber out of the water with the grace of a crab as Jade and Floyd continue to pinch at your legs. You’re only safe when Azul catches you in his arms, lips pursed and hair tousled from the wind.

“What’s this potion I’m supposed to take?” you ask, paying no mind to the splash of water that hits you in the shins.

“Ah. It’s a water breathing potion.” Azul hums, clearly proud of himself, “I brewed it myself, so rest assured, it will work. The potion allows you to breathe and see underwater with minimal difficulty. Your payment for the potion will be assisting us in collecting artifacts and such from the shipwreck I mentioned previously.”

You have a feeling that all that meant was your payment is spending time with us.

You suppose they are rather lonely, with their reputations and all. Azul especially, with that sensitive heart of his.

“Okay,” you say softly, following him as he leads you to a neat row of duffel bags. He leans down and unzips the one with a cute little octopus charm and produces a purple glass bottle. The cork is shaped like a clam shell, and you marvel at how pretty of a bottle it is for only a few seconds before you look at Azul.

The sea is dangerous, you remind yourself. But these three will protect you.

“Now, I will not be joining you.” Azul declares, taking out a book from the same duffel bag, “So you may go with Jade and Floyd.”

He plops down in the sand, opens the book, and ends the conversation.

What?

You must have stood there for far too long because Azul looks up at you over the rim of his glasses as if you’re the one doing something weird.

“Come on Azul!” Floyd yells from the sea, “Shrimpy doesn’t care!”

“Indeed. And you were so excited about this trip, too. I can’t imagine why you wouldn’t want to come.” Jade sighs, shaking his head in disappointment, “There’s nothing to be done about it, I suppose. It looks like we’ll be getting the pretty little pearl all to ourselves, won’t we, Floyd?”

“Oooh, yeah!” Floyd beams, tongue flicking out between his sharp teeth, “All to ourselves, Jade.”

You see Azul’s eyebrow twitch.

Floyd groans, seemingly annoyed at Azul’s lack of reaction, and shifts his targeted jeers to you.

“Shrimpy! I can tell you why Azul doesn’t want to go!” Floyd yells, flailing his arms around, “He doesn’t want you to see his merform! He’s super squishy and slow!”

“Now, now. That’s rude, Floyd.” Jade chastises his brother, but his smile lets you know that he’s getting a kick out of this too.

“Well, that’s a good thing, right?” you turn back to look at Azul and kneel next to him, “I won’t be a fast swimmer either, Azul. Not as fast as Jade or Floyd. It’d be nice to hang back with someone.”

Azul says nothing.

You block out Floyd’s jeering and focus on him.

“Hey.” you whisper, “If you want to come along, you can. Don’t let me stop you. I promise I won’t judge how you look, hell I won’t even look at you if you don’t want me to. But I’d really like it if you came—”

“That is out of the question.” Azul says curtly, pushing his glasses up his nose.

You hesitate, debating if leaving him here would make him more comfortable.

Except you know Azul. And you know if he doesn’t join you three on this trip, he’ll regret it.

“Listen, Azul.” you murmur, keeping your tone gentle and firm, “I want to go with you. It won’t be the same without you. So if you want to come, you should. I don’t want to leave without you.”

Azul hesitates, and you know you’re getting through to him.

“So come on!” you place a hand on his shoulder and smile reassuringly, “It wouldn’t be fun without you. Who else is going to teach me about all the different coins you can find?”

“Gahh, fine!” Azul snaps his book shut and tucks it back into his duffel bag, hands shaking, “You run a hard bargain, my dear.”

You laugh, and your heart feels light. You lead Azul to the water and turn away as he prepares to transform. You hear a soft splash and you pop the cork off the pretty glass bottle. Tipping it back, the contents spill past your lips and down your throat. Not wanting to be messy, You place the cork back on and put the bottle on a nearby rock. A slimy hand reaches for you, and you turn to see Jade smiling up at you. Floyd is a little ways away, bouncing around in the water like he can’t wait for you to enter.

Azul is nowhere to be seen, but that’s okay. You can only hope he’ll feel more comfortable as the trip goes on.

”Come on, Shrimpy!” Floyd yells, and that's all the encouragement you need to take Jade's hands and let him drag you into the water.

And he coaxes you into the smooth waves, just like a siren. His eyes certainly glow like he’s hypnotizing you, but you’re certain his beauty is enough to have the same effect.

Once your head is submerged, you open your eyes. Instead of the sharp pain you expect to feel from opening your eyes in the salty water, you’re able to see clearly. Jade’s still holding your hand as he drags you deeper, tail swishing as he darts around coral. You try your best to follow him as you cut through the water, and you know if it wasn’t for the care he puts into making sure you’re not getting scraped on the rough outcrops of coral, you surely would have been injured already.

Floyd swims down from up above and snatches you from his brother in the blink of an eye. You’re pressed into a slick, pale chest as Floyd bears his teeth playfully, swimming farther up.

“No fair, hogging Shrimpy all to yourself.” Floyd grumbles, clutching you against him like a prized catch.

“Now, now. No need to get aggressive.” Jade hums, swimming up to meet Floyd, “They were very much enjoying themselves with me, weren’t you?”

You’re saved from the growing conflict between the brothers by Azul, who pokes his head out from a small cavern in the coral.

“Our goal is to get to the shipwreck, not mess around.” Azul chastises him, and you marvel at the parts of him you can see (which just so happens to be his face and the upper part of his chest.)

He really is beautiful.

“Yes, boss.” Floyd smiles lazily, flicking his tail at him before swimming off with you in tow.

Jade smiles but says nothing as he follows after his brother, who decides to take a small detour. He spins you around a coral spire as if he’s dancing, holding your hands as you spin. His grin is toothy and wide, and his laughter rings clear even in the water, eyes shimmering as if reflecting the sun. He twirls you around like a dancer, and the water fans around you like a costume. It makes you feel like a performer, gorgeous and renowned, and you find yourself grateful for Floyd’s adventurous spirit.

“You see that, Shrimpy?” Floyd giggles, halting mid-dance to swim closer to the coral reef, “It’s you!”

You swim a bit closer, using Floyd’s hand as an anchor to keep yourself close to him. There’s a small shrimpy fluttering through the crevices, skittering across the coral-like an underwater insect.

“Do I really look like that to you?” you tease, shooting Floyd a doubtful look.

“Sure ya do! You’re tiny and you scitter around and you’d probably taste really yummy.” he teases.

He bites just beside your ear and you swat at him. Floyd laughs and swims circles around you, jabbing you with his hands and poking you with his tail. He’s more touchy than usual, you think, and it makes you want to hold him too.

The next time he circles you, you latch onto his tail. Floyd shrieks and flings his you through the water, shooting you towards the coral reef with his pure strength.

“Only shrimps this tall get to ride for free!” He holds his hand up just a few centimeters taller than you and sticks his tongue out.

“Only eels this tall get to receive hugs from shrimpies.” you say, holding your hand just a bit higher than him.

Floyd swims upward and bonks into your hand, looking very proud of himself. You hug him as he takes you the rest of the way to the shipwreck.

It’s a towering thing, made almost entirely of wood. There’s a gaping hole in one of the sides, and you assume that’s how it sank. Floyd giggles and you realize your mouth is gaping in shock. You slam it shut, embarrassed.

Jade and Azul are already examining items they found in the sand, Jade swishing around in the open water while Azul hides most of his body in another crevice. There’s a small treasure chest by Jade’s tail, full of coins and what looks like paper—?

You’ll have to ask them about that.

“It certainly took you long enough.” Jade chuckles.

Azul acknowledges you two with a curt nod as he sorts through coins that look older than Trein. He’s far too deep in his element to engage in pleasantries, you think.

“Floyd, I found some well preserved musical records.” Azul says mildly, handing Floyd a book that seems completely dry without sparing him a glance.

Floyd positively lights up and tears the book out of Azul’s hands, flipping through the pages that are indeed dry.

“Old merfolk spells.” Jade explains, smiling at your surprised expression, “We find paper books fascinating, you see. If the pages are protected by leather and metals they last underwater for quite a bit of time. We had to preserve them somehow.”

“That is fascinating.” you breathe, and Jade chuckles.

He grabs your hand and you turn to him questioningly. He gestures towards the large ship, towering over your little group. You gape at the structure again, and Jade laughs at your facial expression. The hole in the side of the ship looks just big enough for someone to enter it, and you find yourself wondering how it got there again.

Now that you think about it, the hole could have been made after the ship sank.

“Shall we?’ Jade murmurs, pressing a guiding hand to your lower back.

You let him lead you into the shipwreck, but he doesn’t allow you to enter until he’s checked the floor you’re on thoroughly.

“It’s all clear, my pearl.” he offers you his hand again, and you take it.

The second you’re inside, you break free from Jade’s grasp and swim around the room. There’s a collection of silverware in a rickety old cabinet. There’s an old chest that’s cracked open, and you can see scraps of paper peeking out from their age-old prison, suspended in the water. There’s an armchair with an intricately woven cushion, one of its armrests broken off.

Jade watches as you dart around the room, silently following you as you glance from item to item. You know he must think it’s amusing that you can be so enraptured by your own kind. He can’t blame you, though. Humans have always fascinated him, and you’re well aware he’s aware of you indulging him on many occasions.

Many people would be frightened if Jade Leech examined them so closely. You are not one of those people.

“Jade.” you whisper, swimming over to him with curiosity in your eyes, “Is this an old terrarium?”

Oh, you can tell that piques his interest. You point to a dark corner of the ship to a small table and a tiny, house-like structure. It’s made of some type of fibrous material, and two glass panes extend diagonally from the rectangular base. Jade swims over, gently taking the structure in his hands and peeking inside. His sharpened teeth glint in the slivers of sunlight as he beams, cradling the discovery as though it was worth more than all the gold Azul was sorting outside.

“Yes, it is.” he murmurs, voice soft as he coaxes you forward, “Humans didn’t care so much about how pretty terrariums were as long as they were functional. I’ve heard many merpeople talk about how boring these terrariums in particular are as a result of their lack of stained glass, but I can’t help but find this style charming.”

“Sometimes being functional is better.” you agree.

Jade gazes upon you with a softness he does not normally display. It makes your heart take a little tumble in your chest.

Jade opts to take the terrarium with him, and the two of you bounce ideas of what to put in the container back and forth. At one point you bring up taking some coral and sea floor rocks for decor, and Jade perks up like you’ve just reinvented the world of terrariums.

“I’ve been so fascinated by your world that I forgot about the beauties of mine.” he murmurs, lifting a silver knife to examine it, “Say, what do you think about using this knife as a plant marker?”

“You could carve the name of the plant in the handle.” you muse, and Jade nods with a wide smile.

“You have a fascinating mind.” he places a hand on your head, scratching gently at your scalp, “It makes me want to explore you, too.”

You feel your face grow warm in the chilly water.

With your suggestion in mind, Jade begins collecting the various plates and silverware he can find, debating how he can use each bit of his treasures. You watch him for a while as he darts around, storing the items you used every day in his terrarium as though it was a precious treasure chest.

“Isn’t there a story about how the mermaid princess believed that a fork was a comb?” you ask as he picks up a golden fork, “I think Floyd told me that one.”

“So he does pay attention.” Jade chuckles, turning his gaze to you, “Yes, indeed. She was so excited upon seeing one at the prince’s dinner table that she snatched it right up and began vigorously brushing her hair. As you can imagine, the prince was very confused.”

“That would have hurt her scalp pretty bad.” you murmur, furrowing your brow, “But she had the right idea, I suppose.”

Jade laughs, and you feel proud that you were the cause.

“Jaaaade!” Floyd pokes his head in and beams when he sees you, “Have you gone down to the bottom floor yet? Azul says there's a lot of fun stuff down there.”

“I haven’t.” Jade says mildly, “We’ve been having a grand time up here, you see. I daresay I got a bit distracted.”

Floyd sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry, but with the unparalleled length of his tongue, it looks incredibly odd. You barely manage to stifle a laugh, and Floyd beams as though he’s just won a prize.

“C’mon, Shrimpy!” Floyd cackles, darting forward and snatching you up into his arms, “Let’s go explore!”

You’re surprised when Jade follows the two of you down to the deeper levels of the shipwreck. You expected him to continue perusing the selection of silverware, but instead he clutches his terrarium in his arms and swims after you and his brothers. Floyd’s chattering away about how you aren’t going to believe what’s on the lower deck and how it’d shock your poor shrimpy heart to death if you were alone. He giggles and wraps himself around you, covering your eyes as he leads you into an open space.

“Look, Shrimpy.” Floyd murmurs right next to your ear, peeling his hands away from your face, “Look at all those weapons.”

Floyd’s not wrong, this would be a rather creepy sight if you were alone. There are two long rows of cannons, each one covered in seaweed and coated in a strange green film. The seaweed reaches out for you in the water, almost as if they’re composed of dead souls that yearn for vengeance. Jade swims out into the room and swats away the seaweed as it clings to his tail. Floyd leads you after his brother and giggles when you shy away from the plant, hating the way it feels against your skin.

“Shying away from a little seaweed, Shrimpy?” Floyd hisses, playfully swatting at the tendrils that reach out to you, “Don’t worry about it. You’ll be fine.”

You’re relieved when you reach the end of the hallway.

Jade carefully examines a wad of mud that bulges from the opening of a nearby cannon, sediments peeking out from the sludge. Floyd busies himself with darting up and down the aisle, laughing and flipping around in the water. You let him drag him with you, and slowly get used to the texture of the rough seaweed clinging to your legs. Floyd twirls you dramatically and dips you, proclaiming loudly that dancers always do this in those silly little human movies, taking the opportunity to snap at your ear again.

He seems amused when you still don’t flinch.

“Floyd, don’t tease them.” Jade calls, a devious grin on his face, “We wouldn’t want them getting cold feet now.”

“I dunno, Jade. I think their feet are already pretty cold.” Floyd giggles, poking the bottom of your foot with the edge of his tail, “Cold as ice.”

Your toes flex at the ticklish sensations. They certainly do like finding all your weak spots, don’t they?

“We should warm them up, don’t you think?” Jade quips, tilting his head innocently.

“Maybe we shouuuuuld.” Floyd hisses, running his claws down the length of your arm.

They must see how your face twitches because they laugh and close in on you. What teases they are, whispering things to you like that. Just when it seems like they’re going to give you one of their famous squeezes, they stop.

“C’mon, Shrimpy. Let’s get you back up to the surface.” Floyd snatches up your wrist and yanks you so hard you’re certain he almost popped your arm from its socket.

Jade grabs your other hand, much more gently, and curls his fingers through the gaps in yours. You let them pull you upwards, powerful tails cutting through the water and they propel you up and out of the structure. Azul is nowhere to be found, and you must look confused at his absence because Jade squeezes your hand. You turn to him and he offers you a calm smile.

“Don’t worry, Azul is back on land. He’s had his fill of being seen for today.”

He doesn’t want you to see him in that form more than you already have.

“That’s okay.” you murmur, “He’s done more than enough already. I’m proud of him.”

“I’m certain he’ll appreciate the understanding.” Jade smiles his closed-eyed smile and nods.

The trip back is full of the same coral reefs, the same tails twining between your legs and curling around your waist, the same laughter from Floyd and quips from Jade. There’s a bittersweet feeling that wells up in your chest as you reach the shoreline again, knowing you likely won’t be back here for quite a while. Despite the rumors that the students of NRC spun about the Leech brothers, they weren’t nearly as dastardly as they usually were. You wonder if it has something to do with the joy of exploring a ship, of being in their element, of being able to talk about things they like.

“If you two want to talk about the things you like, I’d be happy to listen.” you say.

The Leech brothers share a look, one that seems as though they’re communicating without words. They turn back to you and smile, Jade’s grin is far less toothy than Floyd’s but just as happy.

“Keep talking like that and we’ll have to drag you down into the depths and keep you to ourselves.” Jade murmurs, eyes flashing, “Won’t we, Floyd?”

“Ohhh, yeah.” Floyd giggles, “Jade’s right. Who knows what’ll happen, hmm?”

Nevermind.

You laugh and shake your head, to which Jade chuckles.

Your head bursts from the water and you stumble onto the warm sand, where you see Azul sitting in front of three treasure chests. His brow is furrowed as he hunches over the coins, sorting them by year. You decide to sit beside him as the Leech brothers continue to swim. At some point, you hear Floyd slam his entire body into the water, and shriek as Jade slams into the water and pushes an even bigger wave back at him.

“Did you have fun today?” you whisper to Azul.

“I did, yes. I haven’t gotten the chance to explore a shipwreck since enrolling in NRC.” he pushes his glasses up his nose, and they make a soft clicking noise, “I found many more coins for my collection. I’m pleased.”

“I’m glad.” you say, and you don’t say anything else because there’s no need.

You do, however, find yourself splashing back into the water when Floyd calls your name a little while later.

You’re glad you came.

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