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rafedarling · 1 day

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𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: dad!drew starkey x mom!reader

summary: drew tries to play a playful prank by taking off his wedding ring, but his smart and sweet 2-year-old son, rustyn, immediately notices and innocently points out that it might make mommy sad. what starts as a simple joke turns into a heartwarming reminder of the love and connection between you, drew, and your son, and the importance of the little things that symbolize that love.

warning(s): english is not my native language. pure fluff, heartwarming family moments, playful teasing, and deep emotional connections.

au’s: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday

The afternoon sun streamed lazily through the living room windows, casting a soft, golden glow over the space. The warmth of the sunlight and the gentle sound of waves from outside made everything feel peaceful and calm—your perfect little haven. You were curled up on the couch with your son, Rustyn, nestled comfortably in your lap, his small head resting against your chest. He was two, but sometimes you marveled at how much older he seemed, with his sharp curiosity and his endless questions.

Rustyn’s favorite book was in your hands as you read to him, your voice soft and soothing as you flipped through the colorful pages. Every few moments, Rustyn would point to a picture and ask you about it. His little hands would grab at the air in excitement as he processed each new detail.

“Mommy, why is that bunny wearing a hat?” Rustyn asked, his bright blue eyes full of curiosity.

You chuckled softly, brushing a hand through his soft curls. “Maybe he’s going on an adventure, sweetie. What do you think?”

Rustyn considered this seriously, his face scrunching up in concentration. “Yeah, maybe. I like adventures.”

“I know you do,” you said with a smile, kissing the top of his head. “You’ll have lots of them when you get bigger.”

Rustyn nodded, clearly satisfied with your answer, and snuggled closer to you. He let out a small sigh, content in the warmth of your embrace. You couldn’t help but smile, your heart swelling with love as you continued to read. These were the moments you cherished—the quiet, everyday moments that made your little family feel complete.

As you were nearing the end of the story, you noticed Drew standing in the kitchen, leaning casually against the counter. He was watching the two of you with that familiar look of affection in his eyes, the one that always made you feel so loved. But today, there was something else—a mischievous twinkle that you hadn’t quite noticed before.

Drew took a sip of water, then set the glass down with a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You raised an eyebrow at him, wondering what he was up to. He didn’t say anything, just casually strolled into the living room and leaned down to scoop Rustyn up from your lap.

“Come here, little man,” Drew said, his voice warm as he lifted Rustyn into his arms.

Rustyn squealed in delight, wrapping his tiny arms around Drew’s neck and giggling as Drew spun him around in a playful circle. “Dada!” Rustyn cried out, his laughter echoing through the room.

“Having fun with Mommy?” Drew asked, settling Rustyn on his hip, still grinning as he glanced at you.

“Yeah! Mommy was reading to me,” Rustyn said proudly, his voice full of excitement.

But as Rustyn snuggled against Drew, his sharp little eyes caught something unusual. He tilted his head, his gaze narrowing in confusion as he stared at Drew’s left hand. You hadn’t noticed it before, but now, following Rustyn’s gaze, you realized that Drew’s wedding ring was missing.

Rustyn furrowed his tiny brow, clearly puzzled. His voice, though small and innocent, was filled with a sense of concern. “Dada...where’s your ring?”

You blinked, surprised by how quickly Rustyn had noticed. You hadn’t even realized it yourself, but there it was—Drew’s left hand, conspicuously bare. You glanced at Drew, raising an eyebrow as you waited for him to respond.

Drew, ever the playful one, kept his cool. He smiled down at Rustyn, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly. “Oh, that? Dada just didn’t feel like wearing it today, buddy.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly as you watched Drew, a mixture of amusement and curiosity bubbling up inside you. What was he up to? He knew how much that ring meant to both of you, and though it wasn’t a serious situation, you couldn’t help but wonder how this was going to play out.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t so easily fooled. His little face scrunched up again, and he looked from Drew’s hand to your face, his innocent expression filled with concern. He tugged lightly on Drew’s shirt, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

“Dada,” Rustyn said in his most serious tone, his voice soft but full of wisdom beyond his years, “you know you gonna make Mommy sad.”

The room fell into silence, the weight of Rustyn’s innocent words settling between the three of you. You felt your heart swell as you looked at your son, his little face so earnest and full of love for both of you. His concern for your feelings, even at such a young age, was enough to make your heart melt.

Drew’s grin faltered slightly as he looked at Rustyn, clearly taken aback by his son’s sharp observation. The teasing light in his eyes softened, and he let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh really?” he asked, his voice filled with affection as he looked back down at Rustyn. “You think Mommy will be sad if I don’t wear my ring?”

Rustyn nodded, his tiny hand reaching out to touch Drew’s bare finger. “Yeah, ‘cause it means you love her.”

You felt a lump form in your throat at Rustyn’s sweet words, and you had to blink back the sudden tears that pricked at your eyes. How did this little boy know so much? How could someone so young be so in tune with your feelings? It was moments like these that reminded you just how special Rustyn was.

Drew’s eyes softened even further as he looked at you, and the playful smirk faded into something much more tender. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his wedding ring with a slow, deliberate motion. He slid it back onto his finger, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Well, we can’t have Mommy being sad, can we, buddy?” Drew said softly, his voice warm as he turned his attention back to Rustyn. “Is that better?”

Rustyn’s face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart flutter. “Yeah, Dada! Now you make Mommy happy again!”

Drew chuckled, glancing at you with a loving smile. “What do you think? Is our little man right? Does the ring make you happy?”

You smiled back at him, your heart full as you nodded. “He’s always right,” you said softly, reaching out to gently squeeze Drew’s hand. “You know how much that ring means to me.”

Drew leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his hand still entwined with yours. “I know, baby,” he whispered, his voice low and full of affection.

Rustyn, clearly pleased with the resolution of the situation, snuggled into Drew’s chest, his tiny arms wrapping around his dad’s neck. “Dada loves Mommy,” he said with absolute certainty, as if there had never been any doubt.

Drew smiled, looking down at Rustyn with nothing but love in his eyes. “You’re right, Rusty. I love Mommy very much.”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, as if he had solved a great mystery. “I knew it,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, your heart swelling with love for both Drew and Rustyn. You reached out, wrapping your arms around both of them, pulling them into a warm hug. “I love you both so much,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to Rustyn’s cheek before turning to Drew and kissing him softly on the lips.

Drew smiled against your lips, his hand resting on the small of your back as he held you close. “We love you too,” he murmured, his voice full of warmth and tenderness.

As the three of you sat there, wrapped up in each other’s love, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the three of you—your perfect little family, full of love, laughter, and moments like these that made everything else seem small in comparison.

Rustyn, ever the observant toddler, let out a small yawn, his little body relaxing as the excitement of the day began to catch up with him. He nestled deeper into Drew’s arms, his eyes fluttering closed as he snuggled into the warmth of his dad’s chest.

As you watched Drew tuck your son into bed, your heart swelled with love once more. It was moments like these—simple, sweet moments—that made you realize just how lucky you were to have this little family.

As Drew gently closed Rustyn’s bedroom door, he turned to you with a soft smile, his hand reaching for yours. “You know I was just teasing with the ring, right?” he asked quietly, pulling you into his arms as he led you back toward the living room. His voice was low and full of sincerity now, the earlier playfulness gone, replaced by a quiet tenderness.

You smiled up at him, resting your hand against his chest as you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palm. “I know,” you replied softly, your eyes meeting his. “But Rustyn was right. It does mean a lot to me, even if it’s just a ring.”

Drew’s expression softened even further, and he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of it. “I know, baby. I’ll never take it off again, I promise,” he said, his tone serious but still filled with that warmth you loved so much. “At least not without a really good reason.”

You laughed softly, leaning into him as his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. “You better not,” you teased, your voice playful but laced with affection.

Drew smiled down at you, his forehead resting against yours as he held you in the quiet comfort of the moment. “I know I joke around sometimes,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t ever want you to doubt how much I love you. This ring—it’s a promise, not just for show.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, your hand still resting against his chest as you leaned into him. “I never doubt it,” you whispered back. “Not for a second.”

The two of you stood there for a few more moments, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The house was quiet now, save for the soft sound of Rustyn’s rhythmic breathing coming from his bedroom, and the golden light of the setting sun cast a warm glow through the windows, making everything feel peaceful and serene.

Drew’s arms tightened around you slightly, and he let out a contented sigh, his lips brushing against your temple as he held you. “Rustyn’s growing up so fast,” he murmured, his voice filled with a mixture of pride and awe. “I still can’t believe how smart he is—how much he picks up on.”

You smiled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him. “I know,” you agreed, your voice filled with love for your little boy. “He’s always surprising me with how much he understands. I wasn’t expecting him to notice your ring like that.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “Neither was I. I thought I’d get away with the prank at least until bedtime.” His smile softened, and he glanced down at his hand, where the ring now sat securely. “But you know what? I’m glad he noticed.”

You tilted your head, curious. “Why’s that?”

Drew’s eyes met yours again, his gaze full of love and affection. “Because it reminded me how much this little ring means. Not just to you, but to him too. He understands that it’s important—he gets that it’s a symbol of how much we love each other. And that… well, that makes me even prouder to wear it.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your thumb gently brushing along his jawline. “You’re a good man, Drew Starkey,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Drew smiled, his eyes soft and full of love. “And you’re the love of my life,” he replied, his voice just as tender.

He leaned down then, capturing your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that made your heart flutter in your chest. His hands rested gently on your waist as he pulled you even closer, and you could feel the steady beat of his heart against yours, a perfect rhythm that matched the quiet contentment of the moment.

When you finally pulled away, Drew rested his forehead against yours once more, his breath warm against your skin. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice so quiet it was almost lost in the stillness of the room.

“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers gently threading through his hair.

“For this. For our life. For Rustyn. For everything.” He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his expression filled with so much love that it made your heart ache. “I wouldn’t trade a single moment for anything.”

You smiled, feeling the same rush of love and gratitude that you felt every time you looked at him. “Neither would I,” you whispered back.

The two of you stood there everything felt perfect—your little family, your life together, the quiet joy that filled your days. It wasn’t always grand gestures or big moments that made life special. Sometimes, it was the small, simple things—like the way Drew looked at you when he wore his ring, or the way Rustyn’s innocent questions could change the course of a day—that reminded you just how lucky you were.

#drew starkey #rafe cameron #drew starkey imagine #rafe cameron imagines #drew starkey imagines #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #drew starkey x y/n #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey gif #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey fanfic #drew x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut

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cheynovak · 2 days

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Sleeping beauty

Characters: Dean Winchester x Y/N Female character

Summary: REQUEST: Dean sees Y/N sleeping, in his bed, in his shirt and it drives him insane. The heat he feels rushing through his veins. And it's all because she looks so good while sleeping. He just can't keep his hands to himself.

Warnings: 18+ Explicit, Somno, mastrubating, unprotected P in V, slight dominance, ...

English is not my first language

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

Dean pushed open the heavy metal door of the bunker with a quiet grunt, his entire body aching from the hunt. The long drive back had done nothing to ease the tension in his muscles, and the only thing on his mind was crashing in his bed.

It was late—really late. The dim lights of the bunker cast a soft, familiar glow over the stone walls, offering a kind of comfort he rarely admitted to feeling.

The hunt had been brutal, but it was over. For now, at least. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, feeling the grit of the day clinging to him like a second skin.

All he wanted was to crawl under his sheets and sleep for as long as his mind would allow, which wasn’t ever as long as he hoped.

Kicking off his boots near the war room, planning on taking a quick shower, just to clean up before going to bed. Or that was what he thought he'd do. He padded silently down the hall toward his room.

As he got closer, a sense of something different hit him—something warm, something familiar. The door to his room was slightly open, a thin warm light spilling into the hallway from the bedside lamp.

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion, but the weariness in his body kept him from thinking too much about it.Pushing the door open, he froze in the doorway.

There, nestled in the middle of his bed, lay Y/N.

She was on her side, facing away from him, curled up in the middle of his bed like she belonged there.

The soft fabric of his worn, oversized flannel shirt draped loosely over her body, the sleeves bunched around her hands.

The sheets were tangled between her legs, one knee tucked up and the other stretched out, the thin blanket doing little to hide her body. Her hair spilled across the pillow, framing her peaceful face.

Her hip and ass showing over the sheets since she wore little to nothing except a pair of panties, Oh god... what is she doing to me!

Dean couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. His eyes glued on her body. A part of him was surprised, but another part—one he rarely allowed to surface—felt like this was right. Like seeing her here was what he needed after a hunt like that.

After a life like this. Come home, find her naked or nearly naked in bed, fuck her till he find sleep himself.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer. Before he silently took his fresh shirt and boxers to go shower. While he closed the door behind him softly he kept looking not to wake her.

His mind spiralled in the shower. Why was she there? Did she miss him or maybe her own hunt was shitty and she needed him?

But all he could think of was her curves, how her ass lifted in the air, calling his name. Dean's cock was throbbing, his hand moved instinctively to it, making the release quick and hard.

But the second he turned the shower off, thanks to his own vivid imagination, he was hard again.

He walked back to his room, half expecting Y/N to be gone. But no... she was still there, in the same position.

The soft rise and fall of her breath was the only sound in the room, the quiet rhythm calming something deep inside of him. She looked peaceful, completely at ease. It was such a stark contrast to the usual chaos of their lives. And she was in his bed, wearing his shirt.

She turned a little more, showing herself a little better. Dean’s lips quirked up into the faintest hint of a smile. She is asking for it.

He stepped forward quietly, not wanting to disturb her, and sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath his weight, but Y/N only stirred for a second before settling back into her dreams.

She looked so small wrapped in his clothes, the shirt swallowing her frame, and the sight did something to his heart (and cock) he couldn’t quite explain.

For a while, Dean just watched her sleep. His eyes traced the soft lines of her face, the way her lashes brushed her cheeks, how her lips parted slightly with each breath. Hands hovering over her curves wanting to touch her skin.

He didn’t know how long he sat there, just soaking in the moment, but for once, there was no urgency. No looming threat, no ticking clock. Just her, and the quiet sound of their breathing. Unless he counted his erection as a ticking time bomb...

They often enough had a quick fuck during or after a hunt. Just to release stress, this wasn’t different, all though he tried to ignore the sensation his cock was giving him. Just releasing stress.

He leaned back slightly, his hand coming so close to touch her. The warmth of her skin was a stark contrast to the coolness of the room, and he found himself wondering again how she’d ended up here.

Did she miss him while he was gone? Had she come looking for comfort in his absence? Or was she desperately looking for sex. That wouldn't be a first.

They shared a bed... couch... car... They settled boundaries before. And this was something he knew she'd be into.

His hand now warm on her hip made her lean closer to him, showing him a little more.

His flannel hung loosely off her shoulder, exposing the smooth skin of her collarbone, seeing how she was naked under his shirt.

Fuck! Dean had to fight the urge to reach out, to touch her, to pull her close, to knead and feel her breasts, feel how her soft nipple hardened with his touch.

Instead, he let out a soft sigh and ran a hand down her leg.

Carefully, not to wake her, Dean turned beside her on the bed, The mattress shifted slightly, and Y/N stirred again, her brow furrowing for a moment before she relaxed once more. Dean turned on his side, facing her, his head resting on the pillow just inches from hers.

But he couldn't stop himself. His hand moved slowly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face, tucking it gently behind her ear. The touch was so light, so careful, as if he was afraid of shattering the calm of the moment.

His fingers moved over her collarbone to her breast softly kneading her flesh.

As if sensing his presence even in her sleep, Y/N shifted closer to him. Her body instinctively pressed into his, her ass moving against his hips.

Dean’s breath hitched at the contact, the feel of her so close sending a warmth through him. Fuck he needed her!

She mumbled something incoherent in her sleep, her fingers curling slightly into the fabric of his sheets. Dean chuckled softly under his breath, a rare sound in the stillness of the room.

“You always steal my shirts.” he whispered, even though he knew she wouldn’t hear him. His voice was rough with exhaustion and need but soft, the kind of tone he only used when it was just the two of them.

"This time you'll need to pay for it princess." He whispered while his hand dipped between her legs. Unknowingly she let him, moving her leg a little higher. "Fuck you're so wet already... did you...?" his voice broke off.

Would she? The idea of her playing with herself in his bed, in his flanel drove him insane. Her breath became deeper while his fingers played with her. Drawing slow easy circles on her clit.

He tugged her panties aside, before he freed his throbbing dick from his boxers. No longer able to wait, he rubbed himself against her wet core. The feeling almost enough to come then and there.

Seeing how her panties get wet with their movement.

A soft moan escaped her mouth, "D-Dean?" her voice sounded sleepy. Her hand moved back, trying to find him, and she did, pretty easily she found the back of his head, pulling him closer.

His other arm slid under her, pulling her just a little closer, and she instinctively settled into him, her head now resting against his chest.

"Shh..." He whispered. He turned her on to her belly, granting himself more access. Her hand kneading the pillow while he adjusted himself. Pulling her panties further down. Kneading her ass, kissing her flesh.

He guided himself inside, feeling her thighten just a little by the surprise of him. Her body reacted, a soft "Mhm." escaped her mouth, not knowing weither she was fully awake or he'd just given her a great dream.

"D-Dean?" she moaned sleepy. "What are you...Oh!" He leaned in closer, thrusting all the way in "Just enjoy baby." He said before he kissed her neck. She was clearly awake now, pushing her ass up so he could thrust deeper.

His hand fisted her hair, "Do you have any fucking idea what you’re doing to me? Sleeping in my bed, halve naked."

"Mhm..."

"What did you think of when you tickled that pretty little cunt of yours." Her head lifted. He knew... but he bit playfully in her neck. to hold her down.

"I felt it... while you where sleeping, I felt how wet you where without me even touching you." A breathy "Oh." escaped her mouth.

"You wanted me to fuck your sleeping pussy didn't you."

All she could was moan in response.

"Yes..."

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78 @kr804573 @nancymcl@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @globetrotter28 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @call-me-mrs-winchester @winchesterwild78 @deans-baby-momma @soab1967 @livingdeadblondequeen @ladysparkles78

#fanfic #x reader #supernatural dean #deanwinchester #dean #dean winchester x reader #dean smut #dean winchester fanfiction #request

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krirebr · 2 days

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Luck Be a Lady

Pairing: soft!dark Curtis Everett x female reader

Word Count: ~10.1k

Summary: Desperate for money, you accept a job as a cocktail waitress at an underground casino. You think you know what you're doing, but when you meet Curtis, will you realize you're in over your head?

Warnings: Mob AU, violence, allusions to murder, explicit language, dubcon touching, noncon touching (not Curtis), willfully oblivious reader, SMUT - facefucking, dirty talk, light d/s dynamics, praise kink, other explicit sexual content. This is definitely on the darker end of the soft!dark spectrum, so proceed with caution! All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Masterlist

A/N: And here it finally is! This is my first real attempt at soft!dark. I hope I did it right! 😂

This was inspired by two things: 1) me going to a rep screening of Goodfellas and spending the entire time wondering why I hadn't done a mob au yet and 2) @bigtreefest saying "enforcer!Curtis Everett and mob boss!Andy Barber" in my general direction. Thanks for the inspo, friend!!

And big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who not only came up with Curtis's name for reader but also offered heaps of encouragement and was a great sounding board. And thanks to @stargazingfangirl18 for helping me figure out how exactly we'd get to the smut. Thanks Siri!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Please come scream at me about this! 😄 As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You fruitlessly tug down your very short skirt as Holly talks at you. You’re both standing in the corner of the bar’s basement waiting for the night to start in earnest—your first night.

“Lloyd’s not so bad,” she says of your boss, the man who runs this little underground gambling ring. “You’ll have to split your tips with him at the end of the night, but he doesn’t take that much, and you’ll make enough that you won’t really notice. As long as you do that, he’ll mostly keep his hands to himself.”

You nod along, glancing at the mustachioed man conferring with the bouncer at the door. The interview process for this job had boiled down to a thorough once-over that’d made you feel naked in your jeans and t-shirt and a “You’re not too stupid to take a drink order, are you?” and then you had the job.

Holly had vouched for you. Neighbors for almost half a year, she’d come home early one morning last week and witnessed you trying to convince the landlord that you were good for your past-due rent. She’d taken you for coffee and told you she might be able to help if you were good at keeping your head down and mouth shut. And now you were here.

“The customers, on the other hand,” she continues, smacking her gum, “you’ll have to let them touch, at least a little bit. Within reason, you know? But if anything gets out of hand, you can just tell Jake at the door and he’ll take care of it.”

“Within reason?” you ask, voice shaking, just the littlest bit, as the pit that started forming in your stomach when you agreed to this grows a little more.

The look she gives you verges on exasperated. “Well, you want to make money, don’t you?”

Yes, you do. Very much so. It’s a need, not a want. So you nod and try to listen as she keeps giving you the rundown.

Before you’re ready, the first patrons start trickling in and then you’re off to the races. It’s not too bad. No one’s orders are too complicated, mostly just bottles of beer and glasses of straight whiskey. The bartender, Colin, is friendly enough, although you learn that he’s another person you’ll need to split your tips with.

As for the touching, there are hands on your hips, pats to your ass. But you’re rewarded with folded-up bills held up between fingers or tucked into the strap of your top. Or, twice, slid behind the waistband of your skirt. Once you realize that the majority of these bills aren’t ones or fives, but twenties, you care about the touching that comes with them much less. Plus, you’re too busy to really think about it that hard.

You can’t believe how busy it is for a random Tuesday night, multiple games of poker, craps, and who knows what else all going at once. But when you mention that to Holly, she just laughs and shakes her head. “This is nothing,” she says. “On the weekends there’ll be three more of us and another one of Jake. Things get wild.”

You don’t have time to decide whether that makes you nervous or excited before someone is signaling for your attention again. You manage to suppress your grimace when he slides his arm around your waist to tell you what he needs from the bar. You’re rewarded for your troubles by a wad of twenties. You aren’t sure who these men are to tip so freely, but you know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

It’s an hour or two later that Lloyd calls you over to where he’s speaking to a large, impossibly broad man, dressed in a soft-looking henley under a leather jacket with dark jeans. There’s dark ink all over his hands that disappears up his sleeves and reappears on his neck in intricate lines. He’s got close-cropped hair and a full beard that’s neatly trimmed. His deep blue eyes drill into you right away and you do your best not to shiver.

“Got a new girl tonight, Everett. Still learning the ropes, but she’ll take good care of you, won’t you, Cupcake?”

“Yes, of course,” you say, before Lloyd wanders off to check on one of the poker games.

The man, Everett, lets his eyes rove over you. “Cupcake, huh?” His voice is deep, gritty, but there's something there that's much gentler than you expected.

You give him what you hope is a coy smile. “Sure. If you want.” Lloyd was treating him like he's important. You hope important means deep pockets.

He hits you with a penetrative stare, so strong you almost have to take a step back. “No,” he finally says. “I don't think so. I'll find something more fitting.” Then he turns and starts to walk away, before calling over his shoulder. “I'm gonna get dealt in. Bring me a whiskey once I'm settled.”

You watch him go for just a moment, and then head to the bar, asking for a whiskey.

“This for Everett?” the bartender, Colin, asks. When you nod, he grabs a fancy bottle off the top shelf. “This is all he drinks. And he doesn't pay for it, alright? Don't ever think about giving him a bill.”

You look back at the man in question, seriously looking at the cards he’s just been dealt. Who is he???

You collect his whiskey and move back to him. As you set it down, he turns to you. “How about this?” he asks as he holds up a crisply folded hundred-dollar bill between two fingers. Your eyes widen at the money. All you’ve done is bring him one straight pour. “There’s another one of these in it for you if you make sure I never see the bottom of this glass tonight. Sound good?” And then he folds the bill one more time in his thick fingers, before sliding it under the low-cut neckline of your blouse. Your skin tingles where he brushes against it.

“Yeah, you got it,” you just breathe out, a little shocked you’re able to form words. He gives you a smug smile that you can only describe as shark-like before turning back to his cards, and you understand it as the dismissal that it is.

You move around the room, collecting empties, getting refills, trying to goodnaturedly accept unsolicited touches. The whole time you feel eyes on you, but whenever you glance Everett’s way, he’s focused on his poker game.

Eventually, a down moment finds you catching your breath against the wall. The moment Holly sees you standing still, she’s quickly making her way to you. “You need to be more careful around Curtis,” she hisses, lowly.

You look at her, confused. “Curtis?” Jake’s at the door. Colin’s behind the bar. You don’t know a Curtis.

“Curtis Everett!” You glance at the man at the poker table. He’s running a poker chip across his knuckles mindlessly. Then he looks up and you briefly make eye contact before you quickly look away. Holly is staring at you and she looks worried. But the name still doesn’t mean anything to you, so you shake your head and shrug. She groans as quietly as she can. “He’s Barber’s top enforcer!”

This whole conversation feels so out of the blue that it takes you a minute to catch up. Barber. Andrew Barber. The most feared mob boss in the city. Probably the state. Maybe even more. Ruthless and exacting was how the papers described him. He’d been the subject of multiple stings and taskforces and whathaveyou but nothing ever stuck. “He works for Andrew Barber?” you ask, shocked and a little appalled.

Holly stares at you in a way that you can only describe as dumbfounded. It takes her a few moments to find her words, then, “Bitch, you work for Andrew Barber!”

Everything stops. “What?” you gasp.

“Oh my god,” Holly groans. “This was such a mistake. It’s an underground card game in his city! Who did you think was running things?”

“I– I don’t know,” you stutter, stupidly. The god’s honest truth is that you’d never really stopped to think about it. You’d been staring down an eviction, struggling to afford groceries. Unable to make ends meet no matter what you did. When Holly told you about this job, all you saw were dollar signs. You didn't think about anything further. Of course, you’d known these games were illegal, but it seemed so minor in the grand scheme of things. You hadn’t connected it to anything bigger because you just hadn’t wanted to.

But now– Now that you know the truth, what are you going to do? You know what you should do. You should walk out the door right now. You should find some other legitimate way to pay your bills. It’ll be safer. It’ll be better. It’ll be so much harder.

As you bite your lip, trying to process all of this information, Holly continues. “Listen,” she says, “still get him drinks, be friendly, whatever you need to do. But keep your distance however you can. Don't encourage him. He's just– He's really dangerous. They don't call him Barber’s attack dog for nothing, ok?”

“Yeah,” you say. You start to look back in Curtis’s direction but stop yourself. You think about the hundred you already have and the one promised to you at the end of the night. You think of how empty your pantry is. But then you see the genuine fear in Holly's eyes. You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. I got it. Thanks.”

“He doesn't even come in here that often. I'm surprised to see him tonight, so I'm sure it’ll be fine,” she says, but you can tell she’s nervous.

You nod, absently, finally letting yourself glance over at him. His drink is getting close to the bottom. “Shit,” you mumble. “I gotta get him his refill.”

“Do you want me to do it?” Holly asks.

You should let her do it. You absolutely should. But you just can’t give up on that tip. You shake your head. “No, I’ll be fine. But thanks.”

You head back to the bar and grab Curtis’s top-shelf whiskey of choice from Colin, then make your way to his table. You set it down next to him, hoping to move away without him even noticing, he’s so engrossed in the game. But as you take a step back, his hand shoots out to grab your wrist. He holds it tightly until you meet his eyes. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you can’t help the sharp intake of breath or the way you feel his words in your knees. He strokes his thumb down the inside of your wrist, then abruptly lets go, pushing his chips to the middle of the table. You step away, gathering yourself as subtly as you can, and get back to work.

The rest of the night goes quickly. The crowd gets a little rowdier as they drink more, but you find that it’s nothing you can’t handle. The reality of who these people are, what they’re connected to, never leaves your mind. But really, they’re not so bad. None of this feels so bad at all. And soon, people start heading out. You’re beginning to clean up, when a recognizable voice rings out, “Bambi!” You turn and lock eyes with Curtis. He crooks two fingers at you and you quickly make your way over to him.

“Bambi?” you ask.

He grins at you and it feels more than a little predatory. You’ll never admit how much you like it. You try to keep Holly’s warning at the forefront of your mind. “Wide eyes and just getting your legs under you,” he says. You instinctively duck your head at that, which earns a dark chuckle. “Here,” he continues, as he pulls a genuine, fat money clip out of his back pocket. You’ve never seen something like it in real life before. He peels off two bills and holds them out to you. “This is what good girls get,” he says, a low rumble in his voice.

You swallow as you take them from him. Two hundred dollars. Twice what you were expecting. “Thank you,” you say quietly.

He shakes his head. “You earned it.” Then, after one last long look at you, he turns around and leaves.

You stand and stare after him. You don’t doubt anything Holly said, but three hundred dollars, just for bringing him drinks. He doesn’t seem that bad, not really. A little intense maybe, but there’s some sort of interest there, and it can’t be that bad to encourage it, just a little if it earns you these sorts of tips, can it??

Any hesitance you have about this entire endeavor completely disappears as you count your money at the end of the night.

Your first week flies by. You're starting to get the hang of the job. You get along with your coworkers. You get to know the regulars. You like it. Even Lloyd isn’t so bad as long as you give him his cut at the end of every night.

And you’re making so much money.

In your downtime, you pay your landlord what you owe him. You go grocery shopping without scouring for coupons first or calculating exactly what you can afford beforehand. You make a Pinterest board of what you want your apartment to look like now that you might actually be able to buy things to fill it. For the very first time, you’re thinking about things you actually want, not just desperately trying to figure out how you’ll pay your bills. You’ve never felt this calm, this relaxed, this free before. It’s an incredible feeling.

And Curtis. Despite Holly’s reassurances that you wouldn’t see him much, he seems to be there whenever you are, trying to capitalize on his winning streak at the poker tables, you assume. His tips are still insanely generous. You don’t think he carries anything less than hundred dollar bills.

And there’s just something about him. The way he looks at you. The way he touches you. It’s not like the other men here. His touch is like fire, warming from the inside. There’ve been times when his hand on your hip has almost made your knees buckle. That doesn’t happen with anyone else here.

But you’re being smart and you’re being safe. You are. You’re going to set a savings goal, you think. And once you hit that number, you’ll be out of here, onto something more legitimate. And until then, you’ll just keep your head down and mouth shut, like Holly said. You haven’t even really seen anything. It’s a good plan. It’ll be fine.

She’s right that the weekends are wilder. Even with three additional girls working the room, you’re kept running. You do your best to keep an eye on Curtis’s drinks, but it’s much harder than on weeknights. And you aren’t really able to pause when you drop them off. It’s one of these times, as you’re pulling away from the table as soon as you’ve set his glass down, that you’re stopped short by his hand on you. He pulls you back in by the wrist and says, “They’re just running you ragged tonight, huh, Bambi?”

You smile and shrug. “It’s busy.”

He holds out a bill and you try not to smile even wider as he slips it into the waistband of your skirt. “For all your hard work.”

You bat your lashes a little. “You spoil me.”

“I like spoiling you,” he says, lowly.

“You’re too sweet,” you say softly. Then, pulling your arm away with a wink, you add, “Gotta run,” and you’re onto the next table.

You’re getting good at this, figuring out what level of harmless flirting is just enough to keep the money flowing. And you’re having fun. You’d never expected that.

Holly and two of the other girls, Jane and Kristi, are congregated at the end of the bar, waiting for drinks, when you join them. They’re all watching you warily. “So, uh,” Jane starts quietly, “you seem to be getting pretty cozy with Curtis.”

Before you can respond, Holly scoffs behind her. “I’ve tried to warn her but she won’t fucking listen.”

You roll your eyes. You’re tired of hearing this. “I seriously don’t get what the big deal is. He’s nice and he tips well. It’s harmless!”

Kristi just gapes at you. “He’s nice?!”

Holly slams the drinks she was waiting for onto her tray. “Whatever,” she grumbles. “It’s her fucking funeral.”

You shake your head as you watch her go. It’s fine. You can take care of yourself.

The rest of the night goes by in a blur. You don’t get much of a chance to talk to Curtis, but you feel his eyes on you before he disappears a little before closing.

At the end of the night, once you’ve helped clean up, you cash out with Colin and Jake and then go to find Lloyd in his office. You think it’s kind of ridiculous that you’re basically paying him to work there, but it is what it is. And Holly was right, you’re making so much that you barely even notice.

Lloyd is sitting at his desk, looking a little more disheveled than you’re used to. He startles at your approach, which is also new.

“Oh, hey,” he says, with slightly rounded eyes. “What can I do for you?”

You look at him, a little confused. “Just here with your cut,” you say as you hold out his money.

His hands immediately fly up to his chest, palms out. “No, no,” he says. “You made that fair and square. You just– you keep what you make from now on, Cupcake. Sound good?”

You swallow and nod, preparing yourself for whatever other price you’ll have to pay for keeping your job, mentally calculating what you’re willing to do. But Lloyd doesn’t do anything, doesn’t make any move to get closer to you. Just stays there at his desk, turning back to his work. “You have a good night,” he says, clearly dismissing you.

You leave confused, but richer, telling yourself not to question it too hard.

Things go so smoothly for a few weeks that you’re a little shocked when the bubble bursts.

It’s a relatively quiet weeknight. There are a few games going, but nothing compared to the weekend. The pace of the night feels leisurely. It’s nice.

It’s maybe the first night you haven’t seen Curtis there. It feels weird. He’s become such a part of this place for you. A fixture, like the bar or the carpet. Just one of the elements that make it what it is. But it’s fine. Of course, he doesn’t come every night. He probably has a whole life outside of this. He must’ve gotten bored of playing cards. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

You’re passing the time talking to one of the regulars at the bar, Vinny. He’s in his fifties, you think, with gray hair and laugh lines. He’d gone bust at the poker table (or maybe it was craps tonight) earlier and then had moved to the bar to drink away his sorrows and bad luck. That was how his nights tended to go.

He’s sitting on a barstool, his arm around your waist where you stand next to him. He’s a little close for comfort, but he’s always just been a friendly guy, so you’re alright. Which is why you’re so surprised when, in the middle of a story about the good old days of the Copa Cabana, his other hand suddenly finds its way between your thighs. You freeze. For just a second. Then you force out a laugh and try to push his hand away. “Bad boy,” you try to tease, your voice shaking. His hand will not move. What is happening? “Come on, let’s keep our hands to ourselves.”

Instead of doing what you’ve asked, his thumb briefly brushes the inside of your leg and then his whole hand begins moving higher. You stop breathing. You push again but he won’t budge.

“You’re such a pretty doll, aren’tcha?” he says.

Tears start to gather in your eyes. You look around wildly to see if anyone’s noticing what’s happening. Colin’s busy making drinks. Jake and Lloyd are talking by the door. Everyone else is engrossed in their own business. “Vinnie, stop, please,” you whisper. You don’t know why you can’t get your voice to work, can’t get your body to move.

“Come on,” he cajoles, “I’m being nice, aren’t I?”

Then his thumb brushes against your panties and your entire body jolts into action. You wrench your leg out of his grasp and take several steps away from him. Your whole body is shaking now. “I gotta–” you start, trying to keep your tone casual and failing miserably. “I gotta get back to work, Vinny.” Then you grab your tray off the bartop and walk away as fast as you can.

You don’t really have a destination in mind. You pick up a few empties as you wander between tables. You can feel his eyes on you, following you. You try to take a deep breath, calm yourself down. It isn’t very helpful. You look up to see Jake by himself now. You make your way over to him, Holly’s words on your first night in your ears. That was out of hand, wasn’t it?

He looks up as you approach. His big golden retriever smile on his face. “Hey, what’s up?” Then he actually takes you in and his smile drops. “What happened?”

“Um, Vinny, he, uh–” You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks and you just shake your head.

Jake’s face darkens. “Did he hurt you?”

“No, uh, he– he just–” You shake your head again. “No, he didn’t hurt me.”

Jake doesn’t say anything for a moment, just looks at you. There’s something about the way he does it that makes you think he understands everything you just can’t say. He nods once. “Alright. I’ll take care of it. You go take your time in the back. Do what you need to do. He’ll be gone by the time you’re done.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, thank you,” you say so quietly. Then you get yourself to the back room as quickly as you can.

It’s really more of a hallway than a room, small and narrow. All of the storage space for the building is in the legitimate bar upstairs. But there’s enough room for you to crouch down, your knees pulled up tight to your chin. You bury your face in your thighs and let the tears you’ve been holding in finally fall. You’re okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re fine.

You don’t know how long you’ve spent trying to calm yourself down when a large shadow suddenly looms over you. It takes you a moment to gather your strength to find out who it is. You hope it’s Jake telling you Vinny’s gone. You’re afraid it might be Lloyd, here to tell you to get back to work. There’s a slowly building terror that it might be Vinny himself.

After a deep breath, you look up to find Curtis staring down at you, concern on his face and fiery anger in his eyes. “What happened?” he growls.

You shake your head and turn away. He crouches down in front of you. “Are you alright?”

A humorless, uncontrolled laugh escapes you. Once you finally stop, you ignore his question and ask your own, “Why are you here?”

It takes him a very long time to answer. He just looks at you seriously for several moments. Then, finally, “Jake called me.” While you try to figure out why on earth Jake would do that, he continues, “I'm sorry I wasn’t already here.”

“Why?” you blurt out without thinking.

He looks away without saying anything. You both just sit in the silence for a few moments. Then, you try to change tactics. “Where were you?” you ask out of morbid curiosity. You can't imagine what his life is like outside of here.

“Working,” he says curtly. He plays with a ring on his middle finger and the movement draws your eyes to his hands, specifically his knuckles. They're scraped and caked with dried blood.

You swallow and you catch how his eyes track the movement. His eyes are always on you. He catches everything.

“Someone touched you?”

“Lots of people touch me,” you say, flatly. “It's part of the job. You touch me.”

His eyes narrow at that. “But this was different.” It isn’t a question.

You look down at your hands in your lap and don't say anything.

“Tell me who it was.”

“No,” you say instinctively, something about the moment feeling incredibly dangerous.

He huffs in frustration. “Are you trying to protect him?”

“No!” you say, sharply. “I’m protecting myself.”

“You don’t have to do that. Not from me. Not ever.”

You don’t know how to tell him that every atom in you knows that that isn’t true. You can’t explain it, and it wasn’t until the moment he joined you in this little closet, but you’d swear that he’s a danger to you. You just can't articulate how, but you feel it in your bones. And still, here you stay.

At your silence, he grits out, “If you don’t tell me who it was, Jake will.”

Jake probably already has, that’s what you’ve figured. “Great,” you say. “Then you don’t need me to say it.”

“Bambi,” he lets out in an exasperated growl. “I'm trying to help you.”

You just look at him and then figure you may as well ask the main question that's on your mind. “Why did Jake call you?”

He ignores you and stands up. “Come on,” he says and extends his hand, “I'm taking you home.”

You just blink up at him. “My shift isn't over.”

He shakes his hand at you impatiently. “It is now. Come on.”

You shake your head. “Curtis, this is my job. I can't just– Lloyd will–”

“I'll take care of Lloyd. Let’s go.”

You think about going home. About sitting alone in your small apartment. At least here you'll have something to do, things to focus on, to keep you busy. At home, there'll be nothing to think about other than that hand between your legs and– “No,” you say as firmly as you can manage. “I'm staying here. I'm finishing the night.”

His jaw ticks but he doesn’t say anything, just tries to stare you down. You stare right back. You will not concede this.

Finally, he exhales through his nostrils, then growls out an unhappy “Fine. But I'll–” He's interrupted by his phone ringing in his pocket. He takes it out and glances at the caller ID and sighs. “I have to take this.” He steps away as much as he can in the tiny area and answers with a curt “Everett.” There's a slight pause. “Yeah, I took care of it.” Another pause that has him glancing at you. “No, something else came up.”

You don't wait to hear the rest of the conversation. You take the opportunity to go back to the main room and get back to work.

You don't see Curtis again that night. You don't spare much thought to where he might've gone. You're too focused on getting through the remainder of your shift. When it's done, Jake insists on seeing you home. You don't ask why. You already know who's behind it.

The next few days are fine. You try to put what happened behind you, doing your best to ignore it. But that becomes impossible when three days after the incident you watch Vinny walk in. You can’t help the little burst of panic you feel as you warily watch him sit down at his usual table and get dealt in.

As subtly as you can, you make your way over to Jake. You don’t even say anything before he’s looking at you, chagrined. “I know,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I had to let him in. I promise it’s all going to be taken care of. It’s just– You can ignore him tonight, ok? Just trust me. You don’t need to worry about him. I promise.”

“Ok,” you say reluctantly, trying to resist looking back at Vinny. “I just– I didn’t think I’d have to see him again.”

“I really think that after tonight you won’t,” he says sincerely.

You don’t really understand what that means, but you nod anyway. “Ok,” you say. “I, uh, I should get back to work then.”

He just nods after you, looking a little concerned and a little sad. But the room is filling up, so you don’t have time to delve into it.

Sometime later, as you’re taking a brief moment to idle by the bar, a strange hush descends over the room. You’re facing away from the door, away from the rest of the room, but you see Colin take in whatever it is that’s caused this. His face pales and he lets out a quiet, urgent, “Shit.”

You turn around to see what on earth could be going on and you immediately freeze. Curtis is here. But that’s not what’s garnering all of this attention. Well, not all. Because he’s not alone, there’s a man with him. A little shorter, not quite as broad. But you’d be able to feel the power radiating off of him, even if you didn’t recognize him. Soft dark hair, thick beard, an immaculately tailored suit. You’ve seen him in the papers, on the news, but in real life, he’s even more intimidating. Andrew Barber.

Barber leans in close to say something to Curtis, who nods, eyes scanning the room until they land on you. Your breath catches, but luckily Colin calls your name behind you and you have an excuse to turn around. He places two glasses of dark liquor on the bar. “Everett,” he says, gesturing to one, then “Barber,” while waving his hand over the other. “Got it?” You nod and place them on your tray. They’re identical to your eyes except for the fact that Barber's has a muddled black cherry at the bottom of the glass.

You carefully bring them over, trying to force yourself to breathe. Curtis intercepts you and grabs the drinks when you're a few steps away. “Thank you, Bambi,” he says, lowly.

Barber perks up. “This is Bambi? Really?” He extends a hand and you have no choice but to take it. “Andy Barber,” he says with a disarming smile. “It's a pleasure to meet you finally.”

His handshake is firm, demanding. He is terrifying in his friendliness. And he knows who you are. Has known, for who knows how long. You glance at Curtis, but he's just calmly drinking his whiskey. You don't know what to say, what are you supposed to say?? So after too long a pause, you practically whisper, “Thank you, Mr. Barber.”

He chuckles lightly as he takes back his hand. To Curtis, he says, “You're right, Bambi does suit her.” Then he turns back to you and adds, “Andy, please.”

“O– Okay, Andy,” you say, with what you desperately hope is a benign smile. You look over at Curtis, you’re not entirely sure why, but out of these two dangerous options, he, at least, is familiar. “I should get back to work.”

Curtis is staring at you, but it’s Andy who answers. “Mmm, and we have a game to join, don’t we?” Curtis nods but still doesn’t break his gaze. Andy smirks, “No rest for the wicked.”

You have no idea what to do with that sentiment, so you take the opportunity and get out of there. You walk through the tables, checking to see if anyone needs anything, but the mob boss’s physical presence seems to have ground all action to a halt. The room is collectively holding its breath.

You go back to the bar for want of anything else to do. Colin is standing ramrod straight, coiled in case he needs to spring into action. Lloyd is sitting down at the end of the bar, drumming his fingers, eyes moving all around the room. You settle next to Holly, who looks just as scared as she did that first night when she was trying to warn you off of Curtis. “Is this,” you start to ask, your voice shaking. “Is this normal? Does he come here a lot?”

“No, never” she shakes her head. “Why would he come here? He has real clubs and restaurants. He doesn’t need to hang out in a shit hole like this.” She shakes her head again. “He’d only come here for a reason.”

You turn your head back to the room and find that Andy and Curtis have settled at Vinny’s table, joining his game across from him. Your heart lands in your throat. That can’t– No. You’re just some cocktail waitress. Even with Curtis’s obvious interest in you, you aren’t important enough to bring the most powerful man in the city here. You’re nothing. He must have other reasons.

The room is quiet enough to hear a pin drop as everyone waits for something to happen, which is why when Andy does start speaking, you don’t have to strain your ears to pick up every word.

He looks at his cards carefully, then over at Vinny. “You know, Vinny, you’re a hard man to track down.” His voice is so calm, it sends a chill up your spine. “You don’t go home, we can’t find you at work. I was starting to get worried.” He runs a few chips through his fingers before tossing them into the center of the felt. “That’s why, when I heard you were showing up here, I sent my best man to investigate,” he nods towards Curtis, “just to make sure you were ok.”

You don’t have a great view of Vinny from where you’re standing, but you can see how stiff he is, how silent. But he still calls when it’s his turn.

“You can imagine my relief when I found out you were alright. Except,” he raises again, a few more chips into the pot, “you’re losing a lot of money, aren’t you? Now, this upsets me. Not because you’re losing your own money. But because it’s mine, isn’t it?”

Vinny finally tries to pipe up. “Andy, hold on. I can ex–”

“You owe me $150,000, Vinny. With interest, that total’s climbing every day. And yet, you sit here and you just keep losing, don’t you? At my own game. What would you do if you won, huh? Would you really try paying me back with my own money? I thought maybe you’d at least have the smarts to cross the border and try this at one of Roger’s casinos. Huh? Paying me back with my enemy’s money, at least that I could respect. But no, it’s only me you think is stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. So now I’m here to give you the chance to fucking do it to my face.” With that, he violently pushes all of his chips into the center of the table.

Everyone else has folded. It’s just Barber and Vinny now. You’re not sure Curtis even actually played. He’s just staring Vinny down, although occasionally his eyes will flick up and meet yours. You hate feeling like you’re a part of this, but you don’t know what else to do besides watch it play out.

Vinny is just spluttering, while Andy calmly looks on. It’s all the expected, cliche stuff you’ve seen in gangster movies. He’s got the money, he swears. He just needs a little more time. Andy has to know he’s good for it! You want to roll your eyes right along with Andy.

“Call, Vinny,” Andy cuts him off, sternly. “That’s $150,000 I just put in the pot. Call. And if you win, we’re even. Your debt’s erased. But if you lose, well then that’s $300,000 you’ll owe me. And you know I won’t be able to tolerate that. So call. And let’s find out where we stand.”

You can’t see what Vinny’s doing, but you can imagine the way his fingers must be hovering over his chips, his eyes moving down to his cards to check, one more time, if they’re as good or bad as he remembers. You know there’s no way out for him either way. He’ll have to call. He’s just delaying the inevitable.

You feel like you can't breathe as you wait for him to just finally do it, but Andy cuts in again. “The thing I can't understand, Vinny, is why you kept coming here after Curtis showed up. Either you're very stupid or really fucking greedy.” He looks at Vinny carefully. “Maybe a little of both. I hear you've been touching something that doesn't belong to you.”

You gasp. No one notices, but you do. He can't be talking about you. He can't. He can't.

Vinny seems even more confused than you. “What are you talking about? I haven't touched anything!”

Andy continues to ignore him. “So you're stupid and greedy. That's why you aren't afraid of him like you should be. They call him my attack dog, did you know? Have you heard that? Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe you think he’s some puppy that follows me around. You’d be stupid to underestimate him, underestimate me. But maybe you only do that because you've never seen my dog off his leash.”

Curtis springs into action, lunging across the table to grab Vinny by the collar, and then slams his head into the felt. Before there’s even time to react, he’s stood and he's picking Vinny back up and hurling him onto the floor. Curtis comes around the table to stalk after him and the look on his face has you gasping for breath. You've never seen Curtis like this. There's a glint in his eye that might be the scariest thing you've ever seen. Who is this man? What is he capable of?

Vinny is dazedly trying to crawl away, but Curtis catches him easily. He grabs Vinny’s collar and hauls him back up, delivering two punches to his face in quick succession. The sound it makes. There's no other sound in the whole room. No one's saying anything, no one's doing anything. Everyone's just watching, hypnotized. You turn away, your stomach churning. Your eyes catch on Andy, sitting back in his chair, placidly drinking the whiskey you brought him, completely relaxed, like he's watching anything else. You can't look at him either.

The room is completely silent except for the crunching of bones, Vinny’s whimpers, and Curtis’s grunts. You look up again to be startled by eye contact with Curtis. His eyes are wild, unhinged. Feral. But there's something else in it, like all of this is for you. That all of you are there, everything is happening, because Vinny dared to touch you. It takes your breath away. It’s mesmerizing.

Andy finally stands and strides over to where Curtis is holding Vinny up in the middle of the room. He looks down at Vinny, then spits in his face. “I'm tired of trying to draw blood from a stone,” he says. Then he turns to Curtis and finishes, “Get rid of him.”

Curtis gives you one last long look, his face unreadable. You feel it in your knees. Then he drags Vinny out, leaving a bloody trail behind him.

The moment they're gone, it's like the entire room can breathe again. “Lloyd,” Andy calls out. “How ‘bout a round for everyone? On me.”

Lloyd nods to Colin who hurriedly starts pouring drinks. And you, so grateful for something to do, instead of just standing there, shaking, start loading the glasses on your tray.

As you begin to pass them out, Andy of all people, pulls you aside. “Bambi,” he says quietly, “I hope you know now, we take care of our own.”

You gaze at him, shocked. It feels like a comfort and a threat. But why? It's not so much the implication that this all had something to do with you, but you can't for the life of you imagine what you've done to get yourself to a place where Andy Barber might consider you his, however distantly. It can't just be that you work here. You can't picture him doing something similar for Holly or Colin. Once again, this all feels so incredibly dangerous.

While you're struggling to come up with anything to say to that, he grabs a drink off your tray and downs it quickly. Then, with a wink, he turns and leaves. You’re left staring after him until someone calls after you and you're scrambling to pass out drinks again.

The night ends quickly. No one seems eager to stay and drink and play after everything that's happened. Not when there's still blood on the floor.

You do what you can to help clean up, but when you stare at the stain helplessly, Lloyd tells you not to worry about it. He's got a guy.

Colin walks out with you so you aren’t in the parking lot alone. You're grateful. You're still so shaken. As you approach your car, your beater that you still don’t quite have the money to replace, you see someone leaning against it. You stop short, looking to Colin for help, but he just keeps walking to his own car, his head down. That’s when you know it’s Curtis.

You take a deep breath and then force yourself to keep walking towards him. You can't begin to parse how you feel to see him now. Your keys are ready in your hand like you might just get in and drive off without speaking to him. You know you won’t.

When you reach him, his voice is rough as he asks, “Are you ok?” He’s cleaned up. There’s no more blood on his hands, his clothes have been straightened.

You open your mouth to answer, even though you have no idea, so instead what comes out is “Did you kill him?”

“Did you want me to?” is his immediate reply.

It stops you in your tracks as all sorts of feelings come bubbling up, ones you can not, will not examine. This is about his propensity for violence, how terrifying he became, not– No. “Did you?” you insist.

He looks at you carefully then shakes his head. “I don't think you actually want me to answer that.”

“But you've killed before?” You can't stop yourself from pressing, from pushing. You don’t know why.

He just sort of smiles, gently almost, in a way that is deeply unsettling. “You need to stop asking questions you aren’t ready for me to answer, Bambi.” And it’s the way he says the nickname, like you really are that babe in the woods, just born with no knowledge of the world around you, that has your hackles rising.

“Andy called you his dog,” you say, like he should be offended.

To your surprise, he laughs, his head thrown back. Then he takes a step closer to you, and you take the opportunity to sneak in behind him, get to your car. You realize your mistake immediately when he turns back around and cages you in, your back pressed against the driver’s side door. “Everyone calls me his dog. Because he’s the civilized man in the designer suit, and I’m the animal just begging for a reason to slip my leash.”

Your heart pounds wildly in your chest. You should get into your car. You should drive away as fast as you can. You should never come back. But you don’t. “You did it for him,” you say, mustering all the strength into your voice that you can. “You didn’t do it for me.”

He leans over you, the space between you shrinking rapidly. “Yeah, he asked me to do it,” he nods. “But if he hadn’t, I still would have done it. For you.”

You try to shake your head, to tell him that that can’t be true, even as a wild, loud part of you starts to rise up and claw out of your chest. You try to tamp it down, deny it, but before you can, Curtis is leaning in further, his whole body pressing against you, and then he covers your lips with his.

There’s a heat that comes up out of him that fills you, the instant his skin touches yours. His hands are on you, your neck, your hip. You can’t keep track, can only say that his hands are there, everywhere, that his body touches all of yours, that his lips and his tongue are demanding, unrelenting. You are burning up from the inside.

Too soon, but ages later, he pulls away. His eyes are on fire as he looks at you. Then he tears his gaze away, and hits the roof of your decrepit car twice, looking at it disdainfully. “You get home safe,” he says, then steps back to allow you the space you need to get into your car.

You do what he wants you to do. You get in your car, sit in the driver’s seat, and then stare blankly out the windshield. You’ve never felt so out of control in your life. How did this happen? You were flirting for tips, that was all! You encouraged it for money, that was it, and now– You press your thighs together, trying not to pant. You will not be unmoored.

A slight movement in your periphery makes you notice that Curtis is still standing just to the side of your car, watching you. You turn your keys in the ignition and shift into drive.

It doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything it doesn’t mean anything, you chant to yourself all the way home.

It’s your next shift back, and everything seems to have changed. You don’t understand it. You keep doing laps of the room, keep sidling up to regulars you were so friendly with just a few nights ago, but now, they won’t even look at you, let alone touch you. No one’s ordering anything.

Or at least, they aren’t ordering from you.

Holly has been running around nonstop all night, basically having to take care of the entire room by herself. You watch man after man after man slip her little bundles of money.

You want to scream. What the fuck happened? What did you do? What are you going to do?

You go to stand by the bar to wait for something you can do. Colin gives you a brief nod of acknowledgment but that’s it. He’s been cold, too. No. Not cold, distant. You don’t understand what’s changed.

You take a deep breath. It’s one weird night. Things will be better tomorrow.

Things don’t get better. The next night is the same. You’re starting to panic. This job was supposed to be your lifeline. Without it, without the money you were making, you’re not sure how you’ll survive.

Curtis comes in after a couple of hours of nothing. You could cry you’re so happy to see him. But terrified too. If he gives you the cold shoulder, this job really is over. But you have no idea how he’s going to act, not after what happened last time. You’re not sure how you’re going to act either. You can still feel his lips on yours.

You bring him his whiskey immediately and he greets you with an arm around your waist, pulling you in. “Hey Bambi,” he says quietly. Then he gets a good look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You look at him carefully, not sure what to confide. You aren’t even sure what the problem is. You shake your head. “Not my best night,” you say with a tired smile. “But I’m fine.”

He stares at you for a moment, then stands up. “Come on,” he says, grabbing your hand and leading you to the little back room. You feel eyes on the two of you the whole way there.

Once he’s closed the door behind you both, he asks again, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh. “The last two nights have been weird here. I don’t– I don’t know. I’m just worried. I don’t know what happened but I’m not making any tips. No one’s treating me like they used to.”

“Mmm,” Curtis hums thoughtfully. “I think,” he says as he takes two steps closer to you, which in this small space is significant, “everyone else here has figured it out.”

It’s suddenly a little hard to breathe with him standing over you like this. His presence, his attention is always so much. “Figured what out?” you ask, confused.

“That I have lost my patience for watching other men touch you.”

It hits you like a freight train. “What?” It comes out in a whisper.

“I’ve let this go on for too long,” he says, his voice is calm, casual. “I don’t want you working here anymore. This is done.”

“I– What? Curtis. What?! I have to work! I have to pay my bills! I don’t understand. I don’t–”

He takes one last step forward. You feel the heat coming off of him. “Shh,” he soothes, cradling your cheek in his hand. “It’ll be alright. I’ll take care of you. I take care of what’s mine.”

You pull your face away, even as the urge to nuzzle into him is so strong. You feel like you’ve missed something, a thousand things. You feel too many steps behind. “Curtis, I’m not– I’m not yours.”

Something comes into his eyes and you’re reminded of him standing over Vinny, covered in blood. His hand travels down from your cheek. He strokes your throat once, and then his hand closes around it. “Look me in the eye,” he growls, “and say that again.”

His hand is firm, snug, but it doesn’t tighten. But you can imagine so easily how it might. You look him in the eye. You open your mouth, ready to say it again. But then– then you see it. In the way he looks at you, the way he’s always looked at you. You feel it in his grip on you, now. You can’t deny it anymore.

Curtis shoves you into his bedroom. You’re panting already. You need his hands on you, right now. You don’t have to ask for it. He gets you to the center of the room and yanks down your skirt, tearing it in the process. You step out of it and take your blouse off, throwing it on top of your skirt. Curtis’s eyes are cataloging your body, the swell of your breasts spilling out of your bra, your soft tummy, thick thighs. His gaze, as always, takes your breath away.

You reach out for Curtis’s shirt, but he grabs your hands. “I want you on your knees,” he growls and you immediately kneel for him. He throws off his shirt, revealing the expanse of his chest, the muted blacks and grays of his tattoos. You’re desperate to run your hands over them, trace the art, but instead, they just twitch at your side. He'll tell you what you're allowed to do.

He begins unbuttoning his jeans and your mouth drops open. He chuckles darkly. “Perfect little slut.” He takes his phone out of his back pocket and aims it at you, taking a picture as you gaze up at him under your lashes, your mouth wide open. “I've been dreaming of getting you on your knees for me.” He puts his phone on his dresser, then continues taking off his pants. “You ready to choke on my cock, baby?”

“Please,” you whine. You're practically salivating now. His bare thighs are as thick as tree trunks, the muscles corded. His abs ripple as he moves. His shoulders, his back. You want.

He frees his cock and rolls his black boxer briefs down his legs, stepping out of them. It's long and thick, just like the rest of him. Your breath catches. You don't think you've ever taken something that big before.

He takes a few steps so he's completely in your space, his cock bobbing right in front of your face. He takes it in one hand, the other firmly on the back of your head and slowly feeds the tip into your mouth. You taste his musk on your tongue. As he rocks into your mouth, going a little further each time, your hands come up to grasp his thighs. On his next thrust in, you run your tongue along the underside of his dick. His movements stutter just a little and then he looks down at you, a smirk overtaking his face. It's just a touch mean, in a way that has you soaking your panties. “You ready?” he asks, his voice rough. And then without waiting for the answer, he thrusts in all the way, making you take him deep in your throat.

You flail, slapping his thigh as you try to swallow around him, breathing frantically through your nose. After holding you there for a moment, he sets a brutal but steady pace. It takes you a moment, but you find your rhythm, your panic subsiding. Once you feel steady, you lift one hand from his thighs and bring it up to cradle his balls. “Fuck, Bambi,” he grinds out. “You're gonna– I– fuck!” His hand moves from the back of your head down to the back of your neck, which he grips firmly, pulling you off his cock. As you cough and splutter on the floor, he growls, “The first time you make me come is gonna be inside that perfect cunt.”

He helps you stand on wobbly legs, then shoves his hand between your legs, cupping your pussy over your panties. “Shit, fucking soaked just from deepthroating me?”

You let out a needy little whine, trying to push further into his hand, but he withdraws it, instead settling on your hip. “Well,” he grins, “if they’re ruined anyway…” then uses that hand to rip the black lace down the side, letting them fall to the floor. He makes quick work of your bra as well, then takes a step back and sighs, “Shit, Bambi, look at you.” It’s the reverence in his voice and on his face that has you launching yourself at him, unable to keep from kissing him any longer. He lets you, quickly taking control, letting you feel all his hunger, the want he’s kept barely bottled up since he first laid eyes on you. You understand it all now. His erection brushes against you, and now it’s his turn to whine, just a little.

He pulls away, brushing a hand down your cheek, then says “Get on the bed, on your stomach.” You quickly comply, laying in the center of the bed with your knees pulled up and spread beneath you. He brings his hand down on one asscheek harshly and you can’t help the lewd moan that escapes you. He chuckles, “Oh, I will definitely remember that for later.” He grabs your hips and cants them up, then whistles at your exposed cunt. “I knew it. Absolutely beautiful.” Then he unceremoniously shoves two fingers into your hole and you choke on nothing. “Shh,” he coos. “You can take it. My cock’s gonna be a lot thicker.”

As he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, you can’t hold it in any longer and start babbling. Mostly a combination of “please,” and “Curtis,” and “I need,” over and over.

“I know, baby,” he says as he pulls his fingers out of you. “I’ve got what you need right here.” You have a brief moment to feel the tip of his cock on your pussy lips before he’s thrusting it into you, as far as he can go without making it hurt.

“Oh my god,” you cry, pressing your forehead into the mattress and balling his dark blue sheets in your hands. You feel so full. It’s so good. He’s working himself into you as quickly as he can, desperate now. You both are. Once he bottoms out, fully seated in you, he pauses. Then with one hand on your stomach and the other around your neck, he pulls you up onto your knees, your back flush to his chest. You cry out at the new angle; he’s somehow even deeper now. He starts thrusting up into you at a punishing pace. You’re bouncing up and down in his firm grasp. The hand on your neck turns your head to face him, his lips brushing against yours. He holds eye contact with you as the hand on your stomach snakes down your pelvis so his thick fingers can begin circling your clit. “Fuck! Curtis, please!” you shout.

“Yeah, come on,” he breathes, “you can let go. You can do it. Come for me like a good girl.” It’s those words that send you careening over the edge, your cunt pulsing around his cock, squeezing him until he’s coming too with a grunt, filling you up until both your cum is leaking out around him.

He holds you there, on your knees, as you both come down, your twin pants all you can hear.

You wake up slowly, the sun shining on you through the soft drapes. You start to shift then groan at how stiff you are. The night before comes back to you. Curtis took you two more times before you both collapsed in satisfied exhaustion. He’s still out like a light beneath you.

You take a moment to look at him. It’s odd to see him so peaceful, so still. There’s nothing of the feral predator he projects to the world. It makes you feel oddly close to him, seeing him like this.

You carefully get up without disturbing him and begin collecting your clothes. You put on your bra, but there’s no saving your panties. Same for your skirt; it’s ripped along the seam. So instead you pick up Curtis’s t-shirt from last night and put it on. It smells like him. You breathe it in shamelessly knowing there’s no one to witness it.

You savor the soreness as you move out of the bedroom. It’s like you can still feel him inside you, how much he wanted you, needed you. It makes you feel a little powerful, having that effect on a man like him.

You make your way into his living room. You didn’t really have a chance to look at his house last night, as determined as he was to get you into the bedroom. If you’d ever thought to picture it, this wouldn’t be far off. It’s all rich blues and greens and grays, leather and dark wood. Masculine. It suits him.

As you’re admiring the room, you hear footsteps behind you and then two big arms are encircling your waist, pulling you into him. “Good morning,” he rasps.

You turn your head to him. “Good morning,” you say with a smile.

“Fuck, Bambi, you’re even hotter in my shirt than you were last night.”

You smirk at him even as your face heats. “Mmm,” you hum. “It’s comfy. You might not get it back.” He nuzzles into your neck as you continue. “I was hoping you might have something I could wear for bottoms, too. You destroyed my skirt.”

His beard roughly drags against your skin as he asks, “Why the hell would I let you wear bottoms?”

You laugh. “Because I have to leave the house, Curtis.”

“No, you don’t,” he says as his hand begins to move between your thighs.

You playfully swat him away, even as you feel yourself getting wet again from his attention. “I have to go home.”

“Why? You’re staying here.” It’s how certain he sounds that has you turning around in his arms.

“What?”

“I don’t like your building. It isn’t safe enough. Now that I finally have you, of course, I’m going to keep you here with me.”

Once again, you feel too many steps behind. You just blink at him, confused. How does he even know where you live??

He takes your chin in his hand, his fingers gentle. “I told you, Bambi, I take care of what’s mine.”

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silverdragonfly · 23 hours

Text

Homecoming | Aemond x Reader

part i here or can be read as a standalone

pairing: modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

warnings: !MDNI! mature content (p in v, oral fem-receiving, daddy kink, praise, riding, unprotected sex, language). English isn't my first language.

word count: 4K

summary: 8 days Aemond spent on a business trip with his brother. 8 days that felt like an eternity. 8 days are finally over, and he’ll be home very soon.

a/n: i hope you enjoy the taste of this reunion! feedback, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated 💗

divider credit @cafekitsune

7:23 PM, Aemond 🤍: On my way home

7:24 PM, You: Waiting for u ❤️

Vhagar stretches out on the shoe rack, licking her paw and paying extra attention to her claws, making you glance at your own manicure. She knows he'll be home soon; it’s her regular waiting spot. Whenever you and Aemond come home together, she’s always lying on the shoe rack, keeping an eye on the front door. Afterwards, she jumps off and lazily saunters toward her food, as if your return doesn’t really matter to her.

26 minutes—that’s how long the ride from the airport usually takes. Another 26 minutes of waiting. You spent the entire day cleaning the apartment, and the evening was dedicated to cooking. Aemond said he wouldn’t mind ordering takeaway, but you needed to distract yourself from mindlessly checking the time as if house chores could make the time go faster. Surprisingly, it worked.

Your phone lights up with a notification.

7:28 PM

Aegon sends a message.

Furrowing your brows, you tap on the notification. There’s a photo of Aemond in his Black Sabbath t-shirt and Adidas pants, striding through the airport with his two suitcases. You burst into giggles at the message.

Aegon: I think he’s trying to kill me with THAT look. HELP

You're quick to type back.

You: Must be a reason

You follow the three moving dots as Aegon types his response.

Aegon: Literally none

Aegon: Okay maybe one

Aegon: Or two

You: I might say a word on your behalf…

Aegon: Yohooo!

Aegon: u 2 have my blessing! 🙌

7:31 PM.

Looking out the window, the city sprawls out like it’s resting in your palm. Millions of other windows beam with lights, and the traffic creates a sparkling, moving line, all visible from the top floor of your apartment. You clearly remember being freaked out for the first time you got close to the floor-to-ceiling windows. Aemond had to come and hug you from behind; only then did you feel safe, with his broad chest pressed against your back and his veiny hands holding you securely by the waist. He rested his chin in the crook of your neck, and you could see the reflection of your sheepish smile in the glass.

Straightening your oversized cotton t-shirt over your shorts, you wonder if it's too late to change into something more... lacy. You’ve long passed the stage of trying to impress each other with such small things. But sometimes, the small things speak volumes about deeper intentions.

You flinch at the sound of the alarm clock.

7:35 PM – alarm: Pie.

Moving into the adjacent kitchen, you turn on the LED lights, and the matte beige cabinets glow warmly. Pressing the off button, you open the oven, quickly turning away from the billowing steam. The mouth-watering aroma of apple and cinnamon fills the air. Wearing kitchen gloves, you take the springform pan and place it on the stove. A fork pierces the pie, sinking into the soft pastry and revealing no trace of raw dough inside.

Perfect.

You cover the pie with a cotton kitchen towel.

With a clink, you take two plates from the cupboard and place them on the wooden table. The cutlery follows. You’ll light the candles during dinner.

At the sound of Vhagar’s meow, you rush toward the door, your heart racing faster. The cat is already sitting on the front door rug, her round green eyes fixed on the entrance.

“Vhagar, move aside,” you gently nudge her further inside the hallway. The last thing you need is to chase her down the stairs to the ground floor.

Unlocking the door swiftly, you find Aemond standing there, keys frozen in his hand, lips spreading into a smile.

“Hi, love,” his voice comes out velvety.

Your hands instantly reach for his neck as he lifts you, wrapping his arms around your waist. Your legs swing in the air as he spins you around, happiness flooding through you as you inhale his musky cologne. Squealing with delight, you don't care if you look silly.

“I missed you so much,” you giggle as he plants gentle kisses along the crook of your neck before pressing his lips to yours in a short, sloppy kiss.

“I missed you too,” he whispers in your ear.

He’s yours, he’s finally home, and—

“Phew, you two are disgustingly sweet.” Aegon’s voice cuts in, making you peek awkwardly over Aemond’s tensed shoulder.

Your lips part in surprise but quickly turn into a smile.

“Hi, Aeggie,” you say as your feet touch the ground again. Stepping between the suitcases, which roll in different directions, he walks into the apartment clearly unbothered as always.

“Hi, Y/N, you look gorgeous!” he says, brushing past Aemond to give you a quick kiss on the cheek.

“How was your trip?” you ask, helping Aemond push one of the suitcases into the hall, propping it against the wall near the kitchen.

"Good. What’s that smell?" Aegon's gaze shifts toward the kitchen as he walks further into the apartment, his nose twitching. “I’m staying at yours tonight. Shall we dine and watch Avengers?” He grabs a shrimp from the salad and pops it into his mouth, moaning in praise.

“Mm, delicious!”

You give Aemond a confused look, but he just rolls his eyes.

“He’ll just pee and leave.”

“Rude,” Aegon replies, pointing a finger at his brother. “You know how important it is to stay hydrated during a 12-hour flight?”

“Easier when you’re not hungover,” Aemond retorts, irony lacing his voice as he kicks off his white Adidas.

“You need to talk to him,” Aegon nods at you, popping another shrimp into his mouth before heading down the hall.

“Second door on the left,” Aemond calls after him as he scoops Vhagar into his arms, his demeanour softening instantly.

“Hi, girl!” he coos, pressing a few kisses into her soft fur. “I missed you too.”

You bite back a smile as the cat purrs softly.

Leaning closer to him, you pet Vhagar’s back and quietly suggest, “He can stay for dinner, you know.” Aemond shakes his head, stroking the cat under her chin.

“He’s fine.”

“Are you sure? He can’t be that bad.”

When Aemond meets your gaze, you notice the bags under his eyes, mirroring your own under the thick concealer you applied earlier. Among all the evening plans, dinner and a long rest seem the most urgent.

The door creaks open, and Aegon reappears, humming a tune.

As Aemond sets Vhagar down, she trots toward the suitcases, inspecting them with her nose, her tail in the air.

“Dine with us?” Aemond nods toward the table. “But no Avengers,” he adds firmly, making Aegon laugh.

“What’s the point, then? Nah, I’m good. All by myself,” he sings in a dramatic, high-pitched voice. “Besides, I have a dentist appointment in an hour.”

Aemond clicks his tongue, and you glance at him, amused.

“He’s got a date with a dentist he met a few hours ago.”

“Hot dentist chick,” Aegon corrects casually.

“Why do you call it a dentist appointment, then?” you ask, laughing.

He shrugs. “Well, because she’s a dentist.”

“Or maybe somebody can’t commit?” Aemond teases, a faint smirk on his lips.

“Firstly, commitment is boring. Secondly…” Aegon pauses, holding Aemond’s gaze and snapping his fingers as if in thought. “Eh, fuck whatever!”

With that, he strides toward the door. “Enjoy dinner!”

“Thanks, Aeggie! Have a great dentist appointment,” you call after him with a wink.

As the door shuts behind him, you and Aemond both let out a relieved sigh. But the door swings open again, and Aegon bursts in like a hurricane.

“And have good sex!”

The door slams shut once more.

Your laugh gets muffled against Aemond’s chest as his arms wrap around you, making you feel incredibly safe and secure. Suddenly, the apartment itself feels more like a real home.

“You survived that,” you say with a soft chuckle.

“Mm,” he hums, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I was counting the days till... this,” he whispers, inhaling deeply against your hair, as if savouring your scent. Your hands trace soothing circles on his broad back.

“Dinner?” you suggest with a smile, gazing up at him.

“Yes,” he murmurs, “but first, I need a quick shower.”

His face glows copper in the candlelight. You press your hands to your cheeks, feeling the ache from smiling all evening. Sitting inches away from him, you can’t believe your happiness.

“And then it turned out that the entire week, Baela and I were attending the intermediate class. We couldn’t figure out why yoga suddenly felt like torture,” you say, stabbing a piece of pie with your fork and taking a bite. The dessert is practically melting on your tongue. “Today is the first day I don’t actually feel sore.”

You notice the flicker of emotion in Aemond’s eyes, but he doesn’t comment on your words. Instead, he takes a bite of the pie, and you look at him, trying to gauge his reaction.

“Delicious,” he nods, taking another bite, making your smile widen.

“Glad to hear it!”

Glancing at the clock, you see it’s almost 10:00 p.m. Time flies so fast with him at your side. A tinge of self-reproach tells you that you should let him rest.

Rising from your chair, you start collecting plates and cutlery.

“It’s late. You need to get some sleep,” you say, walking into the adjacent kitchen and placing the dishes in the sink.

"Why don't we just use the dishwasher?" Aemond suggests.

“There are only a few plates. No need,” you reply, lathering the sponge and wiping the dishes thoroughly.

You hear the chair move against the floor; his barefoot steps are almost cat-like. As he wraps his arms around your waist, you resist the urge to lean into him.

“One more plate, and I’ll join you,” you say with a soft chuckle, but he seems to ignore your words, pressing a kiss to your temple and trailing his lips down to your cheek, then to your jawline.

“You know what else has been torture?” His husky voice sends shivers down your spine.

“What?” you ask, turning off the tap and setting the final plate aside.

“Not being able to touch you, to taste you, to feel you,” he murmurs, each word punctuated with a kiss to your neck, making you tilt your head to the side.

Your breath hitches as his hands slip under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your stomach before gently squeezing your breast through your bra. Your core tightens, a reminder of how needy you are. A week without his touch, and you feel like you could melt at just a few caresses.

“Don’t you want to rest?” you ask, looking up at him. You know it’s been a 12-hour flight. You know you should insist he get proper rest. You know he never sleeps on planes. You know you'll have enough time for this.

But when his beautiful lips whisper, “I want you,” you can’t resist.

The next thing you know, he lifts you onto the kitchen counter, his mouth pressing urgently against yours. His tongue moves deeper, and you gladly let him in. He tastes of wine, cinnamon, and apples. Neither of you cares about the dishes clattering or the cutlery ringing as it falls to the floor.

Your hands find the hem of his white T-shirt, and you pull it off with his help. Your T-shirt quickly follows. Trailing your fingers along his collarbones, you clasp your arms around the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, as he nudges your hips apart. You pepper his neck and chest with tiny kisses, giving attention to every inch of his body. Perfect. He’s perfect, just for you. You lick, you kiss, you bite. You wish you could devour him completely, and mould him into your skin so he’d never leave again.

His hand tangles in your hair, massaging your scalp, and you feel like you could purr under his touch. A hiss escapes your lips as he tugs your head back, goosebumps spreading across your body at the sensation. His kisses feel wet against your neck as he sucks on your skin, leaving love marks.

His other hand unclasps your bra, and you pull away to let it fall. Your nipples harden further in the cool air. His mouth envelops one, sucking gently before nipping it with his teeth, sending a moan escaping your lips. His hand remains tangled in your hair, adjusting your position for better access, and you obediently bend to his touch, getting drunk on his touch.

“I see you’ve been doing well with your yoga classes,” his words are a gentle puff against your breasts.

“Aemond, please…”

With that, his broad hand presses you fully against the counter, your body shivering at its coldness, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your lower belly. As you prop yourself up on your elbows, your knees bend beneath his touch, your feet resting on the counter.

“Get that perfect ass up,” he murmurs, and you instantly obey. He strips off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, your body glows warmly under the kitchen light. You’d be self-conscious about your position if it weren’t for his worshipping gaze, taking in every curve and form. You furrow your brows as he steps away, only to return moments later with a chair, adjusting it with a teasing slowness right before you.

“What are you…?”

“Gonna eat my dessert,” he says bluntly, with that he settles himself on the chair, and pulls you closer by your hips, securing his hands mightily around them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the realisation of how unholy you must look, but the thought quickly drifts away as he plants gentle kisses on your inner thighs, giving both of them his undivided attention. Your breath hitches as you feel his breath against your heated core, your entire body prickles with anticipation.

“Fuck!” You exhale deeply as his tongue traces a line along your outer lips before burying itself inside you. Your head hits against the kitchen counter, but there’s no pain—only pleasure. Your back arches as if an avalanche is surging beneath it, making you burn. You buck your hips against his mouth shamelessly, greedily. His hand presses against your pelvis, trying to hold you in place as he devours you—faster, deeper. He feasts on you like a man starved all his life.

You choke on your moans, calling out his name like a prayer. Your nails scratch the surface while your other hand grips his soft hair, urging him to lap at you with a ferocious intensity. His groans against you send waves of electricity through your body. The unrelenting heat of his gaze never leaves you, turning you into glowing embers. You lose your mind when his nose presses against your clit again and again. The spray of light from the lamp above you blurs into a halo, as if you’re glimpsing heaven itself. For sure, the pleasure he gives you and the climax that follows are beyond anything earthly.

Your feet slide off the counter to rest gently on his lap, and he presses his hands around your shins, drawing soothing circles as he waits for you to come down from your heights. Catching your breath, you sit up, swaying slightly on the counter. Aemond’s hair is dishevelled, with a few strands falling across his forehead. His lips, full and red, glisten with your juices. You reach out to clean him with your fingers, but he captures them with a slow, deliberate suck, savouring your taste. Your breath catches. Gods, he’s so beautiful. And yours.

Letting your fingers slip from his mouth with a soft pop, he leans closer. “You know what I think?” he murmurs, brushing the sweaty strands of hair from your neck, your eyes mesmerised by his lips. “That each dish you create is more irresistible than the last.”

Fuck. One phrase of his ignites a need within you again. His lips twitch into a smirk, as if reading your dirty mind, and all the things you wish to do with him, all the things you’d let him do to you.

“Shall we have another course in the bedroom?”

With that, he lifts you off the kitchen counter, carrying you toward the bedroom. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Vhagar dart into the kitchen toward her cat plate. You giggle softly against his chest.

“What’s funny?” he asks, curiosity lacing his tone.

“Baby Vhagar was just waiting for us to leave the kitchen.”

A chuckle escapes his lips. “Well, she’s got a few good hours, for sure.”

As he sets you down on the bed, your gaze is fixed on his happy trail while your hands eagerly tug at his Nike pants. Your bottom lip is caught by your teeth at the sight of precum soaking through his fabric. You slide his briefs down, and he quickly tosses them away. His cock is thick and hard before you, and your mouth suddenly feels dry. Aemond’s hand slides under your chin, prompting you to meet his gaze.

“You remember our conversation?” His voice is low, almost a purr, making your brows furrow. You’ve had quite a few conversations over time.

A dangerous glint dances in his eyes. “The one about the nicknames.”

Heat floods your cheeks as the memory returns. Oh. Shit. You swallow hard, and he doesn’t miss it. His lips curve into a slow, knowing smile.

“So, do you enjoy it or not?” His thumb brushes over your lower lip, parting it just enough to push his finger inside your warmth, gathering saliva and spreading it across your mouth. A gesture that makes goosebumps rise on your skin. “Do you enjoy calling me daddy?”

Your body goes still. A mix of embarrassment and arousal swells inside you, even though it’s Aemond.

“Come on, tell me,” he urges, his voice sweet and coaxing. You give him a small nod, feeling the tips of your ears burn with blush.

A sense of triumph flickers in his eyes. “I fucking knew it,” he breathes. “There’s nothing to be shy about. You can tell me any desire of yours.” His hands cradle your face now, his touch both possessive and tender. “And I’ll make sure to satisfy them. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for my girl. You hear me?” He presses a soft kiss against your forehead.

“Yes,” you say, feeling unconditional love bloom inside you.

He hums in approval, and with that, he sits on the edge of the bed beside you.

“Now, will you be a good girl and come sit on daddy’s cock?”

And that question alone feels like a match striking the haystack.

As you straddle his hips, his hands fall on your waist, his blue eyes following you closely. Grabbing his shoulders, you adjust yourself. When the tip of his dick brushes against your entrance, everything within you shivers with the anticipation. Swallowing him inch by inch, you sink yourself down on his length. Your gasp is muffled in his neck at the delicious stretch, your eyes prickling with tears. He’s so fucking thick.

His voice is hoarse against your ear. “Somebody’s gonna be sore again.”

You see his jaw muscles twitch, as if restraining himself from taking matters into his own hands and jackhammering into you, but he patiently waits for you. Catching your breath, you slowly start moving your hips up and down, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. You burn under the blue of his eyes. You see passion, you see lust, you see love, and you feel like you could burst from the feeling alone. It feels so heavenly to have him inside you again.

“Keep going, keep riding my cock like a good girl,” he praises you, his gaze watches ravenously as you’re bouncing on him, your folds greedily capturing his length.

He presses soft kisses against your jawline, shifting towards your ear, sucking on it before giving it a bite.

“I bet the stretch my cock gives you can’t compare to your yoga class.”

“Yes, yes,” you pant in response, your fingers weaving through his hair, tugging as your hips move faster. The burn in your thighs only fuels the pleasure, throwing you deeper into a haze of desire.

Aemond's eyes riveted to the soft sway of your breasts, mesmerised by their movement. There's a hunger in his stare, one that makes your skin tingle under his attention. A moment passes before he grips your hair and pushes you back, making your back arch. His mouth latches onto a nipple, sucking it while his other hand holds you steady.

“Fuck, I just can't get enough of these,” his voice is a low growl. His tongue swirls and sucks on your sensitive bud before he moves to the other, lavishing it with the same eager devotion. It’s been too long since they felt such exquisite attention, and every flick of his tongue sends ripples of pleasure coursing through your body.

As your hips angled, his cock rubs against your g-spot perfectly, making you see stars but also slowing your pace down. You need to cum. You need a release or you’ll lose your mind.

“Daddy,” you whisper so quietly, that it almost surprised he hears you.

Letting your nipple slip with a lewd pop, he asks softly, “What’s that?”

Your words come out in fragmented syllables. “My hips are…ah.. tired.”

“Mm, you wanna daddy to take care of you?”

“Yes,” you nod eagerly, making him chuckle softly in response.

In a swift motion, he lifts your hips and turns you over on the bed, never letting his cock slip from your heat. The sheets are soft against your back. As he places your right shin upon his shoulder, holding it firmly, he begins to slam into you. Leaning forward, you capture the silver chain in your lips for a fleeting moment; the metal feels cool, a stark contrast to the heat of your bodies. But your head tips back as he sets a mind-blowing tempo, he pours all the love and lust he’s been containing inside into each thrust, throwing you over the edge like only he can. Your fingers dig into his back, undoubtedly leaving pink marks against his ivory skin, and you know you’ll be kissing those tomorrow morning.

“Such a pretty, good girl.” Your eyes flutter, as he murmurs sweet praises in your ear, as you drown in pleasure, arching against him. “Gonna cum all over my cock, won’t you?”

Your moans come out as shuddered breaths. He looks at you in awe as if he were an artist trying to memorise each micro expression to turn you into the art. Your walls spasm and contract, as he fucks you through your orgasm. Through your blurred gaze, you see his eyes roll back as he spills himself inside you, sighing at the feeling of your walls taking every drop.

He stays inside you, letting your foot drop onto the bed as you feel his cock soften within you. His hand caresses your cheek, gently pulling a few naughty strands of hair from your mouth before kissing you, tangling his tongue with yours and drawing a soft moan from you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your nose. Your chest tightens at the sweet gesture.

“That was… Fuck!” Your eyes widen.

“I know.”

“No, that’s not what I mean.” He furrows his brow at you. “I mean that was great, but fuck, we didn’t blow out the candles.”

“Fuck.”

Your legs are tangled with his, one of his arms cradling you beneath your body while the other securely wraps around your waist, holding you firmly in his embrace. His soft, rhythmic breath is a soothing caress against your shoulder. As your eyes flutter open, you see Vhagar sprawled on the floor, basking in a stream of sunlight, her green eyes fixed on you. A smile plays on your lips as you gaze at the fluffy creature, whispering, "Daddy's finally home."

With a relieved sigh, you let your eyes close, a sense of peace washing over you as you drift back into delicious sleep, safe and sound in his arms.

#aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #modern aemond #modern aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader

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damiansgoodgirll · 20 hours

Note

could you write rhea x jey x reader smut. Like however you wanna write it just no cheating please

I’VE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING LIKE THIS AND I DON’T THINK I’LL MAKE MORE CAUSE THIS ONE IS BAD, YOU’VE BEEN WARNED ‼️

rhea ripley x reader x jey uso

likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️a little bit of angst, feels, insecure reader, fluff, romance, smut so stay away kids, not much of a plot, soft!rhea, soft!jey, dom!rhea, not so dom jey, threesome(?) and more i guess‼️

eyes on me

you didn’t exactly know what led to have you naked between rhea’s and jey’s bodies, but somehow you ended up there. maybe it was the constant tension between you and rhea. the way she would always make sure you were okay after a match, the way she helped you train everytime you were at the gym together or how she always made sure to compliment you, even if you were just wearing baggy clothes and had dark circles under your eyes.

you never meant for that to happen. after the painful break up with dom, rhea needed someone that stayed by her side. you and damian were her best friends so, of course you were both there for her.

she took your advice seriously when you told her that she had to move on. in less than two weeks she was already seeing jey uso and you were happy for her. maybe feeling a little jealous that she didn’t need you as she used to but you couldn’t lie that jey was the right person for her.

jey was always kind and gentle with you. respecting your friendship with rhea and never overstepping.

but if rhea and jey were a happy couple, why were you naked on their bed?

“we don’t have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable…” rhea softly whispered in your ear, gently kissing your neck.

it wasn’t making you uncomfortable. it was making you wonder what had changed during that dinner with rhea and jey at her place.

one minute you were all happily eating and watching a comedy show, the next minute you were straddling jey’s lap, his hands were moving under your shirt as rhea moved to massage jey’s shoulders and neck, leaving soft kisses on his skin.

you remember jey carrying you to the main bedroom, rhea leading the way. you still remember the feeling of rhea’s hands as she undressed you, taking her time admiring you. you remember how jey undressed rhea, him watching her with loving eyes, making you feel a little insecure because you didn’t have someone waiting at home that would look at you like that. you remember how rhea softly dragged you down on the bed with her, bringing a hand to your cheek and looking for any sign of discomfort in your eyes. when you showed none, she tested the water and brought her lips over yours. no rush, just a gentle kiss. one, turned into two, and two kisses turned into a full make out session with her as jey undressed himself and laid next to you on the bed. one of his hands tenderly caressing your hips. leaving soft kisses from your neck, to your collarbone, into your belly.

he stopped his movements when rhea said those words. he was too lost in his thoughts that he actually didn’t think that it might have been uncomfortable for you.

he looked between your faces and noticed the hopeful looked that rhea had. he knew that rhea thought of you as more than a friend, he talked about it with her and they both were on the same page. they both liked you, they both had feelings for you and if you were okay, they were ready to let you in their relationship.

“i’m okay with this…” you soft voice whispered. rhea and jey were able to hear you and they both relaxed when you said those words.

“but you’re thinking of something, aren’t you?” jey questioned, making you nod your head “what is it babe?”

you blushed under his staring gaze “it’s just…i don’t want this to ruin what we have…”

“i promise you, it’s not” rhea added “nothing is gonna ruin what we have…we promise you”

“okay…” you smiled, earning a smile from her side “but uhm…i’ve never been with two people at the same time so i don’t really know what to do” your cheeks turning red.

“it’s okay beautiful, we will take care of you” jey reassured you, making you nod your head.

your heart pounding in your chest when rhea started kissing you again. her lips were so soft and kissable that you were kinda jealous that jey had the chance to kiss her every day. jey moved between your legs, with his big hands, he softly pulled them apart. while rhea was assaulting your lips, jey started kissing your thighs, grazing at your naked pussy but never touching it.

“i wanna taste her…” rhea almost moaned on your lips when she heard jey kissing your thighs. he couldn’t say no to mami so he moved out of her way and as rhea positioned herself between your legs, the twin laid next to you, popping himself up on his elbow as he watched cautiously every movement your face made.

rhea’s lips kissed your clit, making you slightly move on the bed. when she got the reaction that she wanted from you, she began her attack on your pussy. she took her time eating you out, kissing and licking your clit. jey’s free hand moved over your already hardened nipples, giving them equal attention.

you weren’t a typical screamer in bed, you were shy and it was hard for your partners to understand if you liked what they were doing or not. jey noticed how hard you were trying to keep your moans low and he didn’t agree with your choice “i wanna hear your pretty voice” he whispered into your ear, while his lips left kisses behind your neck “moan for us y/n…” and that was all the confidence you needed because in the exact moment rhea licked at your entrance and jey took a nipple in his mouth, a soft moan escaped your lips, making rhea shiver from how good you were being for them.

jey enjoyed teasing your nipples, wondering if you were so sensitive just for him or you were like that in general. his kisses were soft, he was treating you with such care that you found hard to believe that the jey uso was such a romantic lover boy.

rhea told you about the first time they had sex and how he basically destroyed her. of course, she enjoyed it, and by the way she told you that story, you were sure that those two destroy the bedroom at least twice a day. but this was a different side of jey, and a different side of rhea.

still taking the lead, she brought one of her skilled finger over your clit as her tongue was working over your entrance “fuck baby, you taste so fucking good…” she moaned against your pussy, making you shiver. the added pressure over your clit sent goosebumps all over your body. seeing your thighs trembling, jey knew that you were close and he needed to see you coming for them.

he moved his head from your nipples to your lips, gently kissing you, his tongue fighting for dominance “you coming baby?” he whispered in your ear. too lost in pleasure, you couldn’t find a proper answer but the way your thighs shook and the way your body went rigid and limp in a minute was enough as an answer for jey. grabbing the sheets, a very pornographic sound left your lips, shocking everyone in the room, you included. no one ever made you cum so hard in your life.

rhea worked you through your orgasm, stopping only when she cleaned you up with her tongue. when she was done, she brought her face down to your face and softly pressed a kiss onto your cheek “you were so good for me…” she whispered in your ear. she watched your blissful face, eyes barely open and mouth agape, you were a vision for her.

“you should taste how sweet she is…” she grabbed jey’s face and brought him to her lips, making you taste yourself on him. jey moaned into rhea’s mouth, swearing that you were the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

rhea’s hand teased jey’s cock. you saw it tweaking in her hand as she gave it some attention too. pre-cum already spreading along his shaft, making him whimpering as rhea mover her hand up and down. you watched in awe how confident she was, how confident she was moving and you wished you could have a little bit of her confidence. you were there, watching her pleasuring her boyfriend and you felt yourself getting wet again.

“baby…” jey moaned against her lips “i wanna try y/n’s pussy…” he said, almost as if he was asking for permission. you saw the look rhea gave him, almost a smirk and she couldn’t say no so she nodded, kissing him one last time before sitting on the bed next to you.

rhea fantasised about you multiple times. she fantasised about having you naked just for her, having you naked for her and jey and now she couldn’t believe that you were actually there.

“you doing okay love?” she asked, making sure that you were okay and not overwhelmed.

“yeah…” a whisper left your mouth.

jey checked with rhea and she signed him to go, that you were okay and ready for him.

“if at any point you wanna stop, you say the word and i stop okay baby?” jey asked you, and you nodded. he wanted this to be pleasurable experience for you and hurting you wasn’t his intention.

he was big. probably the biggest dick you’ve ever seen and you haven’t had sex in a long time, you weren’t so sure he was going to fit.

“what about we stretch you out first?” rhea asked, mostly to jey. she might have sensed your worry or maybe she remembered when you told her that the last time you had sex was months and months ago.

jey nodded, understanding that this might have been a little overwhelming for you. he brought his middle finger over your entrance, teasing you, making you whimper. he took time with you. his finger slowly thrusting inside of you. your walls immediately clenching around him.

she’s not going to fit - he thought - she’s too tight.

“let me know if i hurt you…” he whispered, reassuring you with a smile.

“okay…” you smiled back. you trusted jey, you trusted rhea, maybe you didn’t trust yourself much but you knew you were in good hands. they would never hurt you on purpose and rhea reminded you that no matter what, you had control over your decisions, whether you wanted to continue or not.

his finger moved slowly inside of you, jey finding that spot that made you crawl to him. he found it when he heard a strong whimper coming from you “oh, like that uh?” he watched as you nodded your head, not being able to answer him. rhea admired the whole scene in awe. she had dreamed about this multiple times and she couldn’t believe that now you were actually there, naked for both of them. she was mesmerised by your beauty, by the way your body reacted so well to both her and damian. she couldn’t get enough of you.

“i wanna feel you coming on my cock…” jey’s voice was low, delicate even. you nodded, anticipation building in your core “if at any point you want to stop just let me know, i don’t wanna hurt you baby…” jey was dead serious. you weren’t rhea, he didn’t know you or your body as well as he knew hers but by the time you’ve spent together he saw how more of a delicate person you were, he knew he had to be careful otherwise he would scare you.

“i will…” you reassured him.

he brought his dick through your folds, collecting your juices before slowly thrusting his tip inside of you. he was big, probably the biggest one you’ve ever been with. he made you feel inch by inch, thrusting deeper inside of you “breathe baby…” rhea reminded you.

once he was all settled in, he waited for you to adjust, leaving soft kisses on your collarbone and breast, whispering praising words “you can move jey…” you nodded your head when he gave you a questioning look.

he moved slowly at first, his eyes never leaving your face, making sure there was no sign of discomfort.

when he hit that spot inside of you, you couldn’t contain your moans low any longer, pleasure was building inside of you and rhea’s hands touching between your shoulders and your breast weren’t making it easy for you to stay quiet.

“faster…” you moaned, making him smile. he sped up a little, hitting all the right spots inside of you “oh fuck…mh…” you felt tears forming inside your eyes, you’ve never felt that much pleasure in your life.

your thighs shaking a little, making jey speed his movements as rhea lowered her head and took a nipple into her mouth, biting and kissing it “you’re being so good for us baby…so fucking good” she murmured against your skin. you loved her dominant side, you trusted her with your life and you gave control over your own body.

“jey…oh-fuck…” you opened your eyes, meeting his staring look. a few tears fell and rolled down your red cheeks “please…” you didn’t even know what you were begging for.

“please what baby…you like it?” he whispered into your ear, only earning a nod as a reply “good girl…baby, you’re made for us…” he quickly looked down at rhea, noticing how her lips were playing with your nipples and her hands were playing with her pussy, bringing her own pleasure. the room was filled with moans, your skin shining from the layers of sweat upon it. jey’s body moving in sync with yours as you were both chasing your orgasm.

“jey, i’m so close…fuck” your voice whimpered, making jey slowing his thrusts as he could take a good look at you. he brought a leg over his shoulder, moving deeper inside of you.

“oh fuck…come for me baby…” he almost cried when he felt how your walls were squeezing him. you were close and he knew it “keep your eyes on me baby, i wanna see your face…” he ordered and you tried your best to do as he said “eyes on me…” he whispered, voice so rough and yet so soft.

rhea was about to cum as she played with her own clit and her moans vibrating against your skin where enough to send you over the edge.

“jey…oh fuck…i’m…” you weren’t even able to finish your sentence that you were already coming on his cock.

“yeah, i know baby…i wanna feel you” he sped up his movements as you were coming all around his cock. your own orgasm led to rhea coming all over her fingers. jey couldn’t hold himself anymore and he quickly pulled out and came all over your chest. he wanted to cum inside of you but as a first experience with him and rhea, he didn’t want overwhelm you. “oh shit…” his eyes rolled back as he leaked all over your chest and red breast.

you took time catching breath, your chest heavy while rhea softly kissed your reddened skin. your whole body was sensitive, legs still shaking and tears still falling from your eyes. jey moved to get a washcloth from the bathroom to clean you up.

“you did so good baby…” rhea whispered as she moved closer to your body. she laid down on the bed and she gently grabbed your body so you could lay against her. your head over her shoulder as she softly whispered praise words into your ear.

jey admired the two of you, feeling so grateful that you trusted them both.

he quickly cleaned himself before coming back to the bedroom, his hands moving to wash your sensitive pussy and chest, to clean you up from all of his juices and when he was done he moved to lay back down, next to your and rhea.

“are you okay baby?” he asked, meeting your eyes “anything that hurts?”

you smiled “no…i’m perfectly okay, nothing hurts…” and they both believed you. you looked so peaceful in jey’s eyes that he wished this could be a permanent thing and not a causal one.

“i should probably go home…” you whispered, feeling like you didn’t belong there. it was fun, it was good, but you didn’t want to crash rhea’s and jey’s romantic relationship more than you already did.

jey and rhea looked at each other, worried that they might have done something wrong “what are you talking about love?” rhea softly asked.

“i mean…this was just one night thing, right? i don’t wanna be the reason you two break up or have problems…” you mumbled, shying away.

“what? hold up! what is that coming from?” jey intervened.

you took a deep breath “i mean…isn’t this what you wanted? just an experience?”

“absolutely no…baby, why would you think that?” rhea was partially shocked and hurt “what i said at dinner, it’s true…i’ve always thought of you as more than just a friend and just because because jey and i are dating, doesn’t mean we don’t want you too…if you want us” she smiled at you.

they wanted you? not just for the sex, but they wanted you.

“i know that your pretty mind is overthinking right now…” jey murmured leaving a soft kiss over your shoulder “but we want you, if you want us…”

“like a relationship? the three of us?” you definitely didn’t expect that proposal.

“yeah…” rhea breathed “the three of us…we can take things slowly, we are not rushing you and we definitely will never make you do things you are uncomfortable doing…but it’s pretty clear, we like you more than just a friend and the idea of not having you with us it’s killing me…”

“okay…” you whispered, meeting rhea’s face and her hopeful eyes.

“okay?” jey asked, smiling a little too much.

“yeah…okay, let’s do this…” you knew you were in good hands so why not giving it a try?

——————————————————

I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT I WROTE THIS 🙅🏻‍♀️ enjoy 💋

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mimismenu · 2 days

Text

𝒮titched back together ⸝⸝

꒰ 🧵 ꒱ ℒee ℋeeseung [희승] : 𝒯wo-shot! (pt. 2) pt. 1 here!

𝓰enre : angst (??), fluffy fluffy fluff!

𝓹airing : non-idol,,best friend heeseung x fem reader – ex friends w/ benefits trope.

𝓢ynopsis : in which you’ve ran but he loves you too much to let you go.

𝔀arning(s) : prepare to see some sickeningly cute content.

𝔀ord 𝓬ount : 751

꒰ 💬 ꒱ 𝓂i 𝓃ote :

a much asked for part two of “the unravel of his cardigan”. you asked and i am hoping to deliver! i hope you enjoy it, and if you do, please like and reblog. it’s always appreciated. <33

enjoy, my lovely readers. xoxo, mi.

weeks have passed by dreadfully slow for lee heeseung and jang y/n, the latter maintaining a gruesome period of no contact. the boy tried dreadfully hard to pry you from the monstrous walls you’d placed up, wanting to have an ounce of understanding as to why you’d shut him out.

yet, you never gave him the light of day. torn between leaving his messages on read and blocking his contact, you’d have to face the reality of his persistent presence anyway. having shared lectures only made your distancing more difficult, heeseung perched beside you as he always was– like you hadn’t walked out on him.

hell-bent on your decision, you tried to validate the reason as to why you’d placed a pause on your friendship: that you were in love and he wasn’t. except, you didn’t know the truth, whether he reciprocated or not; and you needed closure.

to distract you from the weight of your feelings for heeseung, each return to your apartment was welcomed by a gift at your doorstep. whether it be flowers, your usual order from your favorite cafe, or even a plush that reminded the secret admirer of you. silently, you wondered who would have known the information of your apartment, your regular order, and the other favorites– your mind slipping past the idea of him.

one night, settled in your apartment for the rest of the day, you’d received a knock at your door– not expecting a guest nor package. standing in confusion from the warmth of your couch, you’d paused the drama playing on the television to inspect your mysterious visitor. your steps gently pattered against the floor, warning the boy on the opposite side of the door of your impending presence.

unlatching the lock, she pulled open the front door with hesitance, only to meet the gaze of lee heeseung.

with widened eyes, you simply stared in surprise, lips parted and absolutely no words slipping past them. however, he took your pause as an advantage, extending a large bouquet in your direction, a smile gracing his features. once you’d taken the flowers from his grasp, he paused for a moment– wanting you to understand his sudden appearance.

“beautiful girls, all over the world…” he begins, voice soft– his singing reverberating in your chest. stepping closer, he invades your space, hands extending to grasp your waist in a gentle touch.

“i could be chasin’ but my time would be wasted, ‘cause they got nothin’ on you, baby,” he continues, voice raising a degree as he pushes the door shut with a maneuver of his foot. maintaining his hold on you, he guides you backward, further into your home.

“nothin’ on you, baby,” he whispers, brushing his lips against your forehead in an affectionate display of his longing– a sigh escaping you as you melt into him.

“they might say hi, and i might say hey,” he continues, gaze intent as he meets your eyes.

“but you shouldn’t worry about what they say, ‘cause they got nothin on you, baby,” raising a hand, he presses the tip of his index finger against your nose’s tip, earning a giggle from your lips.

“nothin’ on you, baby, mm-mm.” he finishes, heaving a sigh as he presses his forehead to yours. staring up at him, your eyes can’t help but gloss over, the boy warming your heart.

“hee.” you call in a broken voice, his eyes softening at the sight. in an unspoken understanding, he leans down to capture your lips in a gentle and slow kiss, your emotions mingling.

“i’m so sorry.” you sniffle as he retracts from the kiss, his thumb reaching to swipe a stray tear from your cheek. “shh, baby. i know, it’s okay.” heeseung reassures in a low voice, cradling you as if you were the most delicate object he’d ever held.

“i love you, so much.” he begins, his laughter rumbling in his chest at the sight of more tears escaping your eyes from the simple confession. “so stop running.” he firmly mutters, holding your chin between the pad of his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger.

“okay.” you laugh through the stream of tears, nodding your head with the range of motion heeseung had left you. “i won’t run away, not from us. i love you too, so much.” you confess, reaching to cradle his nape.

and despite the distance you’d originally hoped for, the warmth of his arms reassured you that he was yours, and you, his.

taglist : @greentulip @nshmuras @wonsdoll @pnghoon @pshbites 📎

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samandcolbyownme · 3 days

Note

jake and girlfriend reader where they’ve been together for awhile now and he gets a tattoo of her bite mark?

Bite Me | Jake Webber

Warnings: biting, mentions of needles and other things related to tattooing, mainly fluff

Word Count: 619

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“You never told me what tattoo you were getting, J.”

Jake glances back at you from the tattoo chair, “It’s a surprise.” You roll your eyes with a laugh, “Oh, I see. Alright.”

You walk up to stand next to him, watching as the artist finishes setting up his station.

Jake rests his arm on the arm rest, laying his head back as the cap of his shoulder gets prepped. You go to sit back down, but Jake reaches out, “Don’t go far, babe, you’ll be needed in a second.”

“Needed?” You question, walking back over, “For what?”

The artist lays a piece of clear wrap on Jake and gives him a thumbs up.

Jake looks up at you, “Bite me.”

“Bite you?” You laugh, “What do you mean?”

“I’m getting your bite mark tattooed on me.”

Your jaw drops slightly, “Are you serious?”

Jake nods his head, “I am.” He smiles, laughing, “Now come on! Do it!”

“You’re going to want to bite kind of hard, enough to get the marks to stay so I can map them out, ya know?” The artist says as you walk around, and you nod, “Okay.”

You take a deep breath, pulling your hair back as you bend down, “Like right.. here?” You point and Jake nods, “Yeah, that’s perfect, babe.”

You smirk, shaking your head before you open your mouth and sink your teeth into the plastic wrap on his skin.

Jake watches, taking a deep breath as you stand back up straight, “Good?”

His eyes move from you to his shoulder and he nods, “Fuck yeah.”

You walk back over to the other side, pulling up the chair and sitting next to Jake, “I see why you kept this from me.”

He laughs slightly, “I was afraid you’d say no.”

“Jake. I have your initials you drew, tattooed under my boob, why would I say no to this?” You laugh, “I think it’s kind of hot.”

“Yeah?” Jake smirks and glances over as the needle runs over your teeth marks, “I can agree, probably my favorite tattoo ever.”

“You’re just saying that.” You roll your eyes, giving him a smirk. He sighs, tilting his head, “Am I?”

You slide your hand to his and squeeze, “No, I know you’re not.” You smile and lean over to see, “It actually looks really sick.” You nod, “I think that might be my new favorite one, too.”

The tattoo didn’t take long at all. Once he was finished, Jake walks over and checks it out in the mirror, “Sick as hell.” He pulls his phone up to take a picture of it, “Okay, now y/n, come here.”

You walk over and he spins around, holding his phone up to take a selfie of you, his tattoo, and him.

“Thank you so much, dude.” Jake gives the artists a fist bump and he nods, “Anytime, Webber. You know you’re my favorite client.”

“See, now he’s just saying that.” Jake laughs, “Nah, I’ll be back for sure.”

Your eyes glance at Jake’s tattoo and you tilt your head, “What if.. I got one of yours?” You look up at Jake’s face as he spins around, “Huh?”

“Yeah, like, on my hip or something?”

You can tell the wheels in Jake’s brain were turning as he tried his best to keep himself.. calm, “Now that.. would be hot.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Thank you so much for reading! I love you so much! Catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

#samandcolby-ownme #Jake Webber #Jake Webber blurb #Jake Webber snippet #snippet #snippets #Jake Webber x reader #Jake Webber x you #Jake Webber fluff #Jake Webber tattoos #jake webber x reader fluff #jake webber fanfic #Jake Webber one shot #Jake Webber one shots #fluff Jake Webber

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sugoroo · 19 hours

Text

warnings: fem!reader, oral (f and m receiving), fingering, body worship, suguru has a tongue piercing, cum eating, tooth-rottingly sweet! 18+ minors dni.

wc: 0.5k

an: lil drabble while i work on some longer fics! mostly self indulgent. for my fellow suguru girlies <3

thinking about mutual worship with suguru.

you'd be on your knees, your hands resting lovingly on his thighs as you slid him all the way down your small throat. it was always a difficult fit, but you would try your best to take as much as you could.

"mmm. such a good girl for me," suguru would rasp out, one of his large hands tangling in your hair as he gently stroked some messy strands out of your face so he could have an unobstructed view of your pretty eyes.

there was something so beautiful about the way you looked up at him with his cock stuffing up your mouth, the way you ran your tongue across the underside of his length and suckled softly on his pudgy tip feeling utterly worshipful.

you’d make sure to give all of him your attention, never wanting a single part of his body to be ignored as you gently fondled his heavy balls in your hands.

and when he'd inevitably finish, his eyes rolling back in his head and his hand unconsciously holding you in place, he'd be unable to hold back the groans and almost-whimpers that escaped his mouth when he watched your cheeks puff up with his goopy cum.

you would always swallow without missing a beat, even flickering out your little pink tongue to catch any pearly drops that threatened to ooze from your lips.

and of course, suguru would be more than happy to return the favour. there was nothing he loved more than having you splayed out and open for him, pretty pussy glistening with need.

he'd always take his time when he was between your legs, able to spend many hours at a time there — his pierced tongue moving over your sensitive skin with long, languid licks, gathering as much as your sweet syrupy juices on his tastebuds as possible.

"always taste so good, baby." suguru would groan against you, his lips peppering kisses across your soft folds before delving back into your dripping hole, the small metal ball on the end of his tongue brushing all against your gummy walls.

there was no sound he cherished more than the sweet mewls and moans you'd let out as he scissored his long fingers inside of you, his hot mouth sucking against your twitching clit.

you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, despite the urge to let them flutter shut from the overwhelming pleasure. he looked absolutely beautiful like this, his long black hair loose from his usual neat bun and tickling your thighs.

and when you would finally fall apart for him, he'd drink down everything you offered without hesitation, placing one last loving kiss against your pussy before pulling back.

the two of you would always clean eachother up afterwards with warm, damp cloths before crawling into bed together, cuddling up under the blankets in a cocoon of satisfaction and love.

"i love you, sweet girl," suguru would murmur against your hair, placing a kiss atop the crown of your head before pulling you even closer into his embrace. "can i ask you something?"

"love you too, sugu." you would hum happily in response, snuggling further against his warm chest with a soft smile. "y'know you can ask me anything."

"wanna get married?"

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

#★sugoroo #𝜗𝜚 drabbles #geto suguru #suguru #geto #suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #need him carnally #anime smut #thinking abt tongue piercing suguru

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atzaurora · 1 day

Text

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] 𝒞𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒯𝒉𝒆 𝒮𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒎.﹙정우영﹚(1.8k)

𖥔 fem!reader x wooyoung ; dating ⸼જ A rainy night in with Wooyoung turns into a heated game of control and desire, where boundaries are tested and passions flare, proving that some temptations are impossible to resist... ➤ imagine (smut) .ᐟ.ᐟ 18+/smut content, MDNI!!!, unprotected sex, bdsm elements, light bondage (use of restraints), dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, m & f receiving .ᐟ.ᐟ

꒰🖇꒱ it's freaky but I'm so here for it tbh >.< enjoyyy

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]! ; [𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here! ; [about me] + [guidelines]!

reblogs appreciated

"Come on, just one bite," Wooyoung coaxed, his eyes gleaming with a playful challenge as he held out the slice of spicy pizza.

You giggled, playfully slapping his hand away. "You know I hate spicy food."

"But it’s not that bad, I promise," he persisted, a teasing grin pulling at the corners of his lips. His eyes sparkled with amusement, clearly enjoying your resistance. ── ࣪˖ MORE BELOW

It was a rare night off for both of you, a much-needed break from your hectic schedules. You had ordered takeout, and the cozy hum of an old movie played in the background, its soft soundtrack merging with the rhythmic drumming of rain against the windows. The rain grew louder, setting a soothing cadence that filled the room, wrapping the two of you in a blanket of calm.

Despite the cozy atmosphere, a chill from the storm outside seeped into the apartment, making you shiver slightly. The thin clothes you were wearing weren’t much help against the cold. Noticing, Wooyoung leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "I’ve got a good idea for how we can warm up."

A shiver ran down your spine, not from the cold, but from the teasing lilt in his voice. You met his gaze, a spark of curiosity mingling with the growing tension between you. He took your hand, and with a gentle tug, led you to the bedroom. The anticipation between you both was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desires.

In the dim light of the bedroom, Wooyoung playfully nudged you onto the bed, his hands landing on your waist with a gentle but insistent grip. You let out a soft giggle, pushing him away teasingly as he leaned in to steal a kiss.

"What’s gotten into you tonight?" you asked, your voice low and teasing, the tone mirroring the tension that had been simmering all evening.

He flashed you a grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable desire. "I just can’t get enough of you," he admitted, his words a mix of sincerity and lust.

You smirked, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes as you slid off the bed and sauntered over to the nightstand. "Is that so?" you challenged, pulling open the drawer with a flourish. From inside, you retrieved a set of velvety restraints, holding them up for him to see. "I think it’s time for a little role reversal."

Wooyoung’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but the excitement in them was unmistakable. He had never seen this side of you, and the prospect intrigued him.

"Trust me," you purred, your voice dripping with seduction as you approached him. Slowly, you began to tie his wrists to the headboard, securing them with just the right amount of pressure—not too tight, but enough to make sure he wasn’t going anywhere. "You’re going to love this."

Wooyoung’s pulse quickened as the restraints tightened around his wrists. Being tied up wasn’t something he had ever imagined doing, but for you, he was willing to explore anything. His eyes followed your every move as you sauntered back to the nightstand, your hips swaying with an air of confidence that only heightened his anticipation.

You pulled out a sleek, lifelike dildo from the drawer, its surface glinting under the low light. Wooyoung’s breath hitched at the sight, a low, almost inaudible groan escaping his lips as his cock twitched in his pants. He already knew what you had in mind.

"I’ve been waiting to use this," you murmured, trailing the toy along your inner thigh. The coolness of it sent a ripple of goosebumps over your skin, and Wooyoung’s eyes darkened with want, his breath shallow as he watched you with rapt attention.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed hard, unable to look away. "What are you planning?" he asked, his voice rough with curiosity and desire.

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you flashed him a wicked smile, sliding off your clothes with deliberate slowness, knowing full well that Wooyoung’s patience was wearing thin. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the intensity of it making your skin tingle with excitement.

Once bare, you positioned the dildo at your entrance, teasing him as much as yourself. His body tensed, his restraints holding him firmly in place, though his eyes betrayed the wild need brewing inside him.

"You’re going to watch," you commanded, your voice sultry, the low timbre sending a thrill through him. "And you’re not moving until I say so."

Without breaking eye contact, you slowly pushed the toy inside yourself, a soft moan escaping your lips as the sensation washed over you. Wooyoung’s gaze was locked on the sight before him, his breath coming in sharp, ragged bursts as you began to move the toy in and out, your pleasure evident in every subtle shift of your expression.

He clenched his fists, testing the restraints, but they held firm. "It’s not fair," he murmured, his voice thick with frustration. "I want to be the one making you feel like that."

Your lips curled into a smug smile as you met his gaze, your eyes gleaming with challenge. "Patience, darling," you cooed, the honey-sweet tone of your voice dripping with teasing. "Your turn will come."

Each thrust of the toy drove Wooyoung closer to the edge of his restraint. He could feel the heat pooling in his body, the desperate need to touch you, to claim you, becoming almost unbearable. Every moan that fell from your lips only added to his frustration, his desire to be the one bringing you to the brink overwhelming.

"You’re so beautiful," he breathed, his voice hoarse as he watched you, his eyes heavy with lust. "But nothing compares to the real thing."

You smirked, your pace quickening as the sound of the dildo sliding in and out of you filled the room, mixing with the soft patter of rain against the window. "You think you can do better?" you taunted, your voice thick with pleasure. "Prove it."

Something in Wooyoung snapped. His control shattered as he growled, "I will. I’ll make you scream my name until you can’t take it anymore."

The promise in his voice sent a pulse of heat through your body, but you didn’t let it distract you. You continued to pleasure yourself, bringing yourself closer and closer to the edge, all while watching the agony of desire play across Wooyoung’s face.

When you finally felt your release approaching, you whispered, "Now."

In one swift move, you untied one of his wrists, and in an instant, Wooyoung was on you. He pulled you onto his lap, his mouth crashing against yours in a searing kiss. His hands gripped your hips tightly, the desperation in his touch palpable as he pulled your body flush against his.

He didn’t waste any time, tossing the dildo aside and replacing it with his own hard length. You moaned into his mouth as he filled you completely, the sensation of him stretching you sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.

This was what you had been waiting for—the moment when he would remind you why no toy could ever compare to him. As he began to move, his hips thrusting into you with a fierce passion, you knew he was going to keep his promise.

Wooyoung’s movements were urgent, driven by his need to show you just how much better he could make you feel. Each thrust was precise, his hips moving in a rhythm that had you seeing stars.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, holding onto him as he brought you to new heights of ecstasy. The rain outside seemed to intensify, the sound of it mingling with your moans and his grunts, creating a symphony of raw, primal desire.

"You’re mine," he murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of your neck. "Always."

You could only nod, your voice stolen by the waves of pleasure crashing over you. Every movement, every word, sent you spiraling higher, lost in the intensity of his claim.

Suddenly, Wooyoung flipped you over onto your back, positioning himself above you. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, the new angle allowing him to thrust even deeper inside you, each movement sending shockwaves through your entire body.

Your hands clutched at the bedsheets, desperate for something to ground you as Wooyoung’s lips trailed over your skin, leaving a burning path in their wake. The tension in his body was building, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate.

"Cum for me," he demanded, his voice thick with desire.

And with that, you fell apart, your orgasm tearing through you like lightning. Your body trembled beneath him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Wooyoung didn’t stop, his own release only moments behind. He continued to drive into you, his eyes never leaving yours, until finally, with a low groan, he reached his peak. His body trembled as he emptied himself inside you, his release filling you completely.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sound the soft patter of rain and the heavy breathing that filled the room. Wooyoung collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I’ll never let you tie me up again," he said with a laugh, his voice still shaky from the afterglow of pleasure. He wiped a hand over his forehead, brushing away the beads of sweat that had gathered during your intense session. His grin was lazy but playful, eyes sparkling with mischief as he turned his head to look at you.

You shifted onto your side, a smug smile pulling at your lips. "Is that a promise or a threat?" you teased, trailing your fingertips lightly over his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and you could feel the aftereffects of the raw energy between you lingering in the air.

Wooyoung just chuckled again, the sound rumbling through his chest as he pulled you closer, his arms winding around your body to hold you tightly against him. "Maybe both," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead, his lips soft but lingering. "It was torture having to watch without getting to touch you... Your body is too beautiful to just sit back and not be able to do anything about it."

You giggled, snuggling deeper into his embrace, feeling the comfort of his strong arms around you. "But it was worth it, wasn’t it?" you whispered, snuggling into his embrace. "Because now, I know you're not just all talk."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "And you're not just all tease."

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 days

Text

Bad Guy 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.

Characters: Destroyer!Chris

Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.

You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper.

You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.

Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching.

“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters.

“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.

You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake.

“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug.

He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him.

“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.

He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you.

“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.”

He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching.

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise.

You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with.

You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves.

A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him.

“Uh, hi?” You utter dully.

“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face.

“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.

“There a problem?” He asks.

“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.”

“I don’t like your tone.”

You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms.

“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body.

“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.”

You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties.

“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug.

He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.”

“No, I—I didn’t do anything.”

“There you go again. Disrespectful.”

“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion.

“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts.

You blink, “you don’t know me.”

“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.”

“I don’t want it,” you insist.

“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts.

You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone?

You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks.

“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again.

“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you.

You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe.

“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him.

“Now smile,” he demands.

You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day.

You force a smile.

“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers.

Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down.

“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble.

“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.”

“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.”

You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front.

You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest.

He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest.

💀

Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life. If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back.

You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark.

The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone.

You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing.

Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around.

You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up.

You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time.

The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you.

You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice.

You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment.

“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.”

You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice?

The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you.

“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says.

You snort, “sure she did.”

“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours.

“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back.

You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact.

“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.”

Can be.

You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?”

He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...”

You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner.

“I appreciate the ride but--”

“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.”

You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching.

“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--”

He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?”

You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.””

“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges.

You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod.

“Thank you, sir,” you choke out.

“See, not that hard to be a good girl.”

He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him.

“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls.

“I can--”

“Just be careful,” he snips.

Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.

You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better.

#destroyer chris #destroyer #chris x reader #series #bad guy #dark!destroyer!chris #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au

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kckt88 · 2 days

Text

A Heartbeat Between Us V

Summary:

Y.N moves in with Aemond, however he has trouble dealing with his jealousy as Y.N grows closer to Aegon.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Swearing, Jealousy, Insecurity, Miscommunication, Kissing, Semi Public Sex, P in V, Oral Sex (M Recieving).

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 5576

A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.

A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood

Aemond was almost regretting his suggestion of going baby shopping the moment he stepped foot into the nursery store.

Rows and rows of items surrounded him, none of which he recognized apart from the basics: a cot, a pram and a changing table.

But what was all this other stuff? As he stood there, utterly bewildered, he picked up an odd-looking contraption with tubes and some kind of cup attached. His brow furrowed in confusion as he turned it over in his hands.

"What the hell is this?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.

Y.N. appeared beside him and gave him an amused smile. “That’s a breast pump,” she explained, gently taking it from him.

Aemond blinked. "Are you going to-breastfeed?"

Y.N. nodded. “I’ll give it a try. I read in one of those baby books that I can eventually express milk so you can help with feeds if you want.”

He gave a quick nod, relief washing over him. That, at least, made sense. He would be involved in every aspect of their baby's life, even the late-night feedings.

They continued walking through the aisles, moving past shelves lined with more creams, lotions, and baby products than Aemond had ever seen in his life.

“Babies have really sensitive skin,” Y.N. explained, picking up a tub of lotion and reading the label. “We’ll have to be careful with what we buy for them.”

Aemond was still trying to make sense of the endless products when Y.N. casually mentioned, “I’m thinking I’ll have to put the cot in my room, at least for now. My flat doesn’t have a spare room, so I’ll probably look for a bigger place when the baby gets a bit older-”

Without thinking, Aemond blurted out, “-You could come live with me.”

Y.N. stopped, turning to him in surprise.

He shifted awkwardly, realizing how fast he’d said it, but he pressed on. “-I have the room, and I could help more with the baby. I don’t want to miss out on anything-and it just makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re having a child together, and I-I want you to feel supported. I want to be there for everything.”

Aemond started rambling, listing reason after reason, but Y.N. interrupted him with a soft smile, placing her hand on his arm.

"I'd like that," she said quietly, "-as long as I can contribute toward the bills. I won’t let you pay for everything."

A wave of relief and happiness washed over him, and he agreed, already picturing them as a family in his penthouse. His focus shifted when he spotted something on a nearby shelf.

A cot mobile, but not just any mobile—this one had tiny, intricately designed dragons hanging from it. He wound it up, and a soft, gentle lullaby began playing as the dragons turned lazily in the air.

Aemond smiled, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve always liked dragons,” he said, nostalgia filling his voice.

Y.N. smiled, too, remembering how his notebooks in school had been covered in his dragon sketches. “I remember.”

“This one,” Aemond said decisively, picking up the boxed version of the mobile. “This is the one I want for our baby.”

Y.N. nodded, touched by his excitement. It was clear how much this meant to him.

As he cradled the box in his hands, she smiled at him, already imagining their baby lying beneath the mobile, lulled to sleep by the soft music and the gentle movement of the dragons.

"Do you know what kind of pram you want?" Aemond asked, trying to sound knowledgeable but still feeling a little out of his depth.

Y.N. chuckled, taking his hand. “I’ve seen a few possibilities. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Aemond had practically marshalled his siblings into helping with Y.N.'s move, each of them assigned specific tasks.

The moving process was well underway, and he was determined that Y.N. wouldn’t lift a finger—especially not anything heavier than a pillow.

So, while Aegon, Daeron, and Aemond handled the heavy lifting, Y.N. and Helaena sat on the floor of her now almost-empty bedroom, packing the last of her things into boxes.

“Honestly, Aemond, I can carry other things,” Y.N. protested as she folded some clothes into a box.

“Absolutely not,” Aemond replied from across the room.

Helaena snickered, helping Y.N. close a box. “He’s being protective. Just let him.”

Y.N. shook her head fondly, turning back to Helaena. “Men.”

Meanwhile, Aegon, ever the opportunist, had loudly volunteered to help with the bedroom packing.

“I’ll handle the personal items!” he announced with a smirk, only to be met with a swift slap on the back of the head from Aemond.

“Go help move the boxes that are already packed and sealed” Aemond ordered, sending Aegon out of the room with a scowl.

Y.N. had already arranged for most of her furniture to go into storage, having decided that she didn’t need much in the way of bulky items.

There was only one exception: her grandfather's beloved armchair. The old, worn chair didn’t match Aemond’s sleek black-and-white decor at all, but Y.N. had insisted on bringing it with her.

Aemond had stood his ground, but when she tied him up in bed and kept edging him during sex, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm as she rode him only to stop, and after four times of being denied the chance to come he caved in, only for him to end up a begging moaning mess as Y.N overstimulated him.

Now, as Daeron worked through her collection of books and DVDs, he raised an eyebrow at what he found.

“She’s got a lot of horror here,” he remarked, flipping through a few titles. “She seriously likes this stuff?”

Aemond, overhearing, glanced over. “It’s her favourite genre. She’s obsessed with creature features and disaster movies, too.”

“Creature features?” Daeron asked, confused.

“You know, movies with killer sharks or giant, man-eating animals,” Aemond replied nonchalantly.

Daeron laughed, shaking his head. “She’s has weird taste-” he teased, only for his eyes to widen when he pulled out a book from a box. “Oh, hello. What’s this? Fifty Shades of—"

Before Daeron could finish, Aemond snatched the book from his hands. “Fifty Shades of Shite, that’s what,” Aemond grumbled. “Now stop messing around and pack.”

Daeron mock saluted him. “Yes, sir.”

Aemond then made his way to check on Aegon, who had unsurprisingly gotten distracted. His elder brother was rifling through a stack of old letters, his face a picture of mischief.

“What the hell are you doing?” Aemond snapped.

“Found some letters-” Aegon replied, waving one around. “-From Jace”

Aemond frowned deeply, but there was a gnawing sense of curiosity that led him to take a glance over Aegon’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Jace’s love-sick declarations and desperate apologies were scrawled across the pages.

Aemond’s scowl deepened, but despite the irritation boiling inside him, he said, “Just put them back. It’s not our business.”

Aegon, with a dramatic sigh, pretended to comply, but when Aemond wasn’t looking, he tossed the letters into the bin.

“So long, Jace, you fucking idiot,” Aegon muttered under his breath.

When Aemond went back to the bedroom, he found Y.N. and Helaena laughing together, nearly finished with the last of the packing. Y.N. was holding up a small box of condoms, grinning.

“Well,” she chuckled, “I guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”

Before Aemond could respond, Aegon’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Hey, I could use them! Saves me buying more.”

Y.N., completely unbothered, shrugged and tossed the box in his direction. “-I didn’t know you was seeing anyone.”

Aegon caught the box and smirked. “Not currently. But I do have my eye on someone,” he replied smugly. “Just a matter of time before she’s mine.”

Y.N. raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, going back to emptying her drawers.

Meanwhile, Aemond shot his brother a warning glare as Aegon winked suggestively at him, making his blood boil.

“Touch her, and I’ll kill you,” Aemond whispered to Aegon, to which his brother only grinned wider.

Y.N, oblivious to the tension between the brothers, finished packing her things and stood up, hands on her hips.

“Well, I think that’s everything. Let’s get the last boxes out, and then we can head over to the penthouse.”

As Y.N. looked around the penthouse, trying to get her bearings amidst the chaos of moving, she realized something was off.

"Aemond, where are all my things?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Aemond glanced up from the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “They’re in the other spare room,” he said casually, not catching the subtle shift in her expression.

Y.N.’s face fell. “Oh, s-so-I won’t be sharing your room?” she asked, her voice tight with a hint of disappointment.

Aemond, now noticing the change in her mood, looked confused. "I just assumed that you’d want your own space," he replied cautiously. "You know, somewhere you could have to yourself if you ever needed it."

Y.N. forced a smile, though her chest tightened. "N-No, it’s fine, I-I understand," she said quietly before slipping away down the hall and shutting herself into the spare room.

The click of the door felt like a punch to Aemond’s gut.

Aegon, who had been lounging on the couch, shot his brother a look of disbelief. “Well, aren’t you a fucking moron,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Daeron, standing nearby, chimed in with a frown. “You’re in love with her, she’s pregnant with your kid, and you ask her to move in, only to stick her in the spare room? What were you thinking?”

Helaena crossed her arms, giving Aemond a pointed look. “You need to fix this, and fast.” She shoved him gently towards the door.

Aemond swallowed, his stomach churning with guilt as he approached the spare room.

He knocked softly, and after a long moment, he heard her voice call from inside. “Come in.”

Aemond slipped inside, shutting the door gently behind him. Y.N. was sitting on the bed, surrounded by boxes, her eyes red as if she’d been fighting back tears. His heart sank, and he immediately knelt down in front of her, resting his hands on her knees.

“I’m so sorry,” Aemond said earnestly. “I should have talked to you first. I shouldn’t have just assumed anything.”

Y.N. gave him a small smile, but her eyes betrayed her hurt. “It’s okay. I understand.”

Aemond shook his head. “No, it’s not. I-I’ve never really lived with anyone before, not like this-” he confessed, his voice soft. “-As an adult, it’s all new to me. With Alys-she would only stay over every so often, but we never lived together. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

Y.N.’s gaze softened as he spoke, her hand moving to cup his face gently. “I get that, Aemond. But it still hurt.”

He closed his eye, leaning into her touch. “I just wanted to make sure you were happy,” he murmured. “Of course, I want you in my bed every night, but I thought you might want a space to call your own. Where you can work on your art or-get away from me when I inevitably annoy you.” He smirked slightly at his own words, but his eyes were full of sincerity.

Y.N. smiled at that, her thumb brushing over his scared cheek. “Can I?” she asked hesitantly, motioning towards his eyepatch.

Aemond nodded, and she carefully slid the patch from his face, revealing his sapphire eye. Y.N. smiled softly, gazing at him. “There. Now I can see you,” she whispered.

The tenderness in her voice, the warmth of her touch—it was more than Aemond could take. He surged forward, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.

His hands slid up her thighs to her waist, pushing her back gently until she was lying on the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress.

The boxes around them were pushed aside, some tumbling onto the floor with a thud, but neither of them cared.

“I want you,” Aemond groaned into her mouth, his voice low and rough with desire.

Y.N. gasped, her breath shaky. “Your brothers and your sister-are here.”

Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against her neck. “We’d better be quiet then,” he teased, his fingers already working to pull her clothes off, his need for her growing with every passing second.

He peeled off his own shirt and lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to free his already hard cock.

Y.N audibly gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.

“O-Oh Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he slipped a finger inside her, his movements slow and deliberate.

“Always so warm-so wet for me” muttered Aemond as he added another finger, making sure to use his thumb, sweeping it against her pearl.

“I don’t want to wait-please-Aemond take me” whispered Y.N, as she wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, holding him as close as she could.

Aemond took his cock in hand, running the head along her warm wet folds, before he pressed inside her, inching forward slowly.

“So beautiful, swollen with my child” whispered Aemond.

“P-Please Aemond” whimpered Vaeda.

Aemond began to move with a slow, deep grinding. His movements deliberate and calculated.

“Gods be good,” panted Y.N.

“Fuck. You were made for me. You were made to fit my cock in this sweet cunt of yours.” breathed Aemond as he increased the pace of this thrusts.

“A-Aemond. Please.” exclaimed Y.N as she brought her hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as his thrusts shift her up and down the bed.

Aemond makes a strangled sort of sound and lowers himself onto Y.N even more, kissing her passionately.

His hips rolling against hers, his cock thrusting in and out.

Y.N kissed him back, threading her fingers through his long silky hair, her nails scraping against his scalp, just the way he likes it.

“Mine” muttered Aemond.

Y.N could feel herself clenching around him as his cock keeps hitting the same spot inside her.

“Ooo Aemond-f-faster. P-please”

Aemond lets out a loud groan as he begins to move faster pounding into her, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing around the room.

“Aemond-Aemond-”

“You’re so fucking perfect-come-come for me” growls Aemond.

“Y-Yes., Aemond” moaned Y.N squirming, the heat shooting across her abdomen as her pleasure peaks, and she explodes, her cunt tightening around Aemond.

Aemond lets out a long low groan, his movements becoming erratic. His cock throbbing as he spills inside her.

Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena were sprawled out on the sofa in Aemond’s penthouse, waiting for any sign of their brother.

Daeron leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a curious expression on his face. “Do you think he’s apologized yet?”

Aegon snickered, shaking his head with amusement. “If the sound of the headboard banging against the wall wasn’t enough of an indication, then our brother’s groaning sure was,” he said with a laugh, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Just then, the bedroom door creaked open, and Aemond stepped out, looking a little dishevelled.

He was shirtless, wearing only his jeans, his long silver hair was a tousled mess, and his cheeks tinged pink with exertion. Aegon immediately started snickering again, earning a scowl from Aemond.

Helaena raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh of her own. “Is Y.N. going to join us?” she asked innocently, though the amused glint in her eye didn’t go unnoticed.

Aemond rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s, uh-sleeping,” he replied, trying to sound casual.

Daeron’s eyes widened dramatically. “Sleeping? What did you do to her?”

Aegon let out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think we all heard what he did to her,” he said with a teasing grin, leaning back on the couch as if thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.

Aemond shot him a glare. “Shut up, Aegon.”

Still grinning, Aegon shrugged. “Hey, no judgment. Just, you know-it was loud.”

Aemond sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “It’s probably best if you all leave” he said, attempting to regain his composure. “Thanks for your help today, but I think we’ll have to rearrange game night-”

Helaena smiled as she stood up, gathering her things. “You’re welcome, Aemond”.

“Fine, but you’re buying the beer next game night.” Aegon quipped with a smirk as he got to his feet.

Aemond rolled his eye but nodded. “Fine, I’ll buy the beer.”

As Daeron grabbed his jacket, he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Bet Y.N. sleeps well tonight-”

Aemond shot him a final look of warning before quickly ushering all three of them toward the door.

“Out. All of you,” he commanded, though the faint smile on his lips showed he wasn’t truly angry.

As they left the penthouse, Aegon couldn’t resist one last comment, leaning back to shout, “Next time, at least soundproof the walls!”

The door slammed behind them, and Aemond leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Peace and quiet at last.

Aemond couldn't help but think that asking Y.N. to move in with him was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.

Life with her was everything he hadn't realized he'd been missing. They settled into an easy rhythm—taking turns cooking, sharing quiet evenings together, and every night, he found himself tangled in bed with her, relishing the warmth and intimacy that had quickly become second nature to them both.

What Aemond liked most, though, was watching Y.N. work. She had claimed a small corner of the penthouse, transforming it into her personal workspace.

All her materials were meticulously arranged—paints, brushes, restoration tools—and her attention to detail was astonishing. He found himself mesmerized by the faces she made when she was deep in concentration.

But more than anything, what drove him wild was as her pregnancy progressed, she often got quite warm, so she would often wear shorts and a sports bra whilst working from home.

The sight of her growing belly made him ache with desire and he spent his nights with his head between her thighs before he made love to her.

He was bursting with pride when she completed the restoration of a statue for the museum and watching her meticulously package up the finished piece, her smile radiant with accomplishment, was a memory he knew he’d never forget.

When she received an invite to the unveiling and insisted that he join her, he agreed without hesitation.

The night of the unveiling, Y.N. looked breathtaking. Her floor-length dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her swollen belly and ample curves. Aemond couldn’t take his eye off her the entire evening.

She was in her element, accepting praise and accolades for her work with grace and humility, glowing in the spotlight she so deserved. His heart swelled with pride every time someone came up to compliment her on the restoration.

Of course, the press had been there, snapping photos and recording every moment. It didn’t take long for the word to spread: Aemond Targaryen has not only moved on from Alys Rivers but is also expecting a child with someone new.

He had known it was inevitable, but he thanked the gods they’d managed to keep it quiet for as long as they had.

Y.N. had handled the attention well, her smile never faltering, though Aemond could sense her relief when they finally made their way back home that night.

Now, with the unveiling behind them, his thoughts turned to their upcoming 20-week scan. He was counting down the days with barely contained excitement.

Soon, they’d find out the gender of the baby, and Aemond could finally start working on the nursery, something he’d been quietly planning in his mind for weeks.

The thought of preparing a space for their child filled him with a warmth that was both unfamiliar and exhilarating.

Aemond and Y.N. attended the 20-week scan with excitement buzzing between them. As Marie, moved the probe over Y.N.'s belly, the room filled with the rhythmic sound of their baby’s heartbeat.

Aemond held Y.N.'s hand tightly, his eye fixed on the monitor, watching in awe as their child appeared in crisp black and white. Everything looked perfect.

When Marie asked if they wanted to know the baby’s gender, Y.N. hesitated for a moment before saying, "Could you write it down and give it to Aemond?" Marie smiled knowingly and handed Aemond an envelope, now containing the secret of their baby's gender.

With the knowledge safely tucked away in his pocket, Aemond's mind quickly shifted to the nursery.

As soon as they got home, he began putting his plans into action.

He forbade Y.N. from stepping foot inside the room and told her the nursery would be a surprise. Soon after, various pieces of furniture were delivered—a cot, a changing table, and everything else they’d need.

To put everything together, Aemond enlisted the help of Aegon and Daeron, which turned into a comical disaster. As Y.N. sat in the living room, she could hear them bickering and swearing through the closed door.

At least twice, she heard Aemond threaten to kill Aegon, which was quickly followed by laughter and the unmistakable clinking of beer bottles.

The constant back and forth amused her—at least it sounded like they were having a good time.

Once the furniture was set up, she made a meal for them all, something hearty to thank them for their efforts.

When the brothers emerged from the nursery, sweaty but satisfied, Aegon and Daeron couldn't stop smirking and elbowing each other as they watched Aemond gravitate toward Y.N.

He stood behind her, hands resting on her bump as she dished up the food, his eye soft and full of affection.

"Man, he’s totally whipped," Aegon muttered to Daeron, who snickered in agreement.

They couldn’t understand why Aemond hadn’t told Y.N. he was in love with her yet. Or even why he hadn’t asked her to officially be his girlfriend.

Aegon, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, brought it up. “So, bro,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “what’s the deal? Why haven’t you asked Y.N. to be your girlfriend yet? You’re practically married at this point.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched, and at first, he ignored the question, but Aegon kept poking at him, goading him with teasing comments.

Finally, Aemond snapped, “Because I’m too scared, alright?”

His brothers went quiet, surprised by his outburst. Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his admission.

“I don’t know if she feels the same way. I don’t want to ruin what we have by saying something stupid.”

Aegon and Daeron exchanged a glance, their teasing expressions softening. Aegon, for once, was thoughtful. “You’ve got nothing to be scared of. Look at how she looks at you. I’m pretty sure she’s crazy about you.”

Daeron nodded. “And you’re going to be parents soon. You should tell her how you feel before it drives you mad.”

Aemond knew they were right, but the fear of rejection gnawed at him. What if telling her the truth upset the balance they’d found? He sighed, casting a glance toward the kitchen where Y.N. was laughing softly to herself, completely unaware of the conversation.

One day, he promised himself. One day soon.

At 30 weeks pregnant, Y.N. had been waiting anxiously to see the nursery Aemond had been working on.

He had kept her out of the room for weeks, insisting that it had to be perfect before she could see it.

But now, standing at the door, Aemond smiled and gently took her hands. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, guiding her carefully into the room.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trusting him completely as he led her forward.

Once they were inside, he took a deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered, “Open-”

Y.N.’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. The room was stunning. Cream and soft blue hues covered the walls, and the sunlight from the window illuminated the room in a warm, peaceful glow.

The crib stood proudly, adorned with the dragon mobile, its tiny wings gently swaying in the air. A beautifully crafted changing table was positioned nearby, and resting on it was a knitted blue blanket—Helaena’s handiwork.

“A boy-” Y.N. marvelled, her voice barely above a whisper as she admired every detail. She ran her fingers over the blanket, her heart swelling with love for the baby growing inside her.

Then her eyes caught sight of something—a sheet hanging over a section of the wall above the crib.

“What’s that for?” she asked, curiosity piqued.

Aemond stepped closer, his expression soft but a little nervous. “It’s covering the baby’s name,” he explained, watching her face carefully.

Y.N. looked at him in surprise. “But we haven’t really decided on names yet.”

Aemond smiled sheepishly. “I, uh-I kind of already chose one.”

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but before she could say anything else, Aemond reached up and pulled the sheet away from the wall, revealing the name he had picked.

Y.N. took one look and burst into tears.

Aemond’s eyes widened in panic as he immediately wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her close. “I thought—I’m sorry if I got it wrong. I can change it.”

But Y.N. shook her head, burying her face against his chest as she sobbed. “No,” she managed to say between tears, “I love it. I love it so much.”

A wave of relief washed over Aemond, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Thank the gods,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. Y.N. wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes still misty but filled with joy.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze drifting back to the wall, where her grandfather’s name was painted in elegant script. “It’s not a traditional Targaryen name though”

Aemond smiled, gently wiping her tears away with his thumb. “So, we break the tradition,” he said softly, his hand resting on her bump. “It’s our choice what to name our son. Besides, we can give him a Targaryen middle name”.

Y.N. placed her hand over his, just as the baby kicked. They both smiled, feeling the life they had created together move beneath their hands.

Aemond chuckled softly. “I think he approves.”

Y.N. laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “I think he does.”

Aemond looked around the nursery, a sense of satisfaction and pride in his work. “Now all that’s left is to get the pram and some clothes, and we’ll be good to go.”

Y.N. nodded, her heart full as she took in the room again, but mostly she looked at Aemond, marvelling at how lucky she was to be building a family with him.

Aemond arrived home after an exhausting day, his mind already wandering to Y.N. and the baby.

As he opened the door, his ears picked up on Y.N.'s voice, sounding almost-playful.

"No, Aegon, it's too hard," she said, a teasing edge to her tone.

Aegon groaned. "So? You love it when it’s hard."

Aemond froze, blood boiling in his veins as he heard Y.N. laugh.

"Okay, fine, let's try again, but give me some time to adjust," she responded.

Aemond saw red. Was his brother seriously fucking the mother of his child in his penthouse? Right under his nose? Whilst she was pregnant?

Rage bubbling inside him, Aemond stormed into the living room, heart pounding.

"What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed, fully prepared to murder Aegon with his bare hands.

To his surprise, he found Y.N. sitting cross-legged on the floor with a PlayStation controller in her hand.

Aegon was sprawled on the sofa beside her, also holding a controller, looking completely unbothered by Aemond's entrance.

"We're playing Mortal Kombat, genius," Aegon said with a lazy grin. "What’s got you so worked up?"

Aemond blinked, his fury deflating but still simmering beneath the surface. "What are you doing here, Aegon?" he snapped, irritation lacing his voice.

Aegon shrugged. "Y.N. called me. She was home alone, and wanted some company."

Aemond shot Y.N. a frustrated look. “You could’ve called me. I would’ve come home.”

Y.N. waved him off. “You were busy, Aemond. I didn’t want to bother you.”

Aegon smirked, clearly enjoying the tension between them. “I’ll be heading out anyway,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Got a date with Cerelle Lannister tonight. As much as I’d love to stick around and wind you up further, I’ve got better things to do.”

“Yeah, fuck off” Aemond muttered, earning a chiding look from Y.N.

“Aemond, don’t be rude,” she said, though Aegon laughed it off.

“No worries. I’m used to his mood swings by now.” He leaned over and planted an exaggerated kiss on Y.N.’s head, grinning when Aemond’s face twisted with annoyance.

“Later, you two,” he called over his shoulder, strolling out of the penthouse as if he hadn’t just wound his brother up like a toy.

The door shut with a soft click, leaving Aemond glaring after him.

"I don’t want him alone here with you," Aemond grumbled, still fuming.

Y.N. rolled her eyes and placed the controller down. “Why? It’s just Aegon.”

"You know how my brother is," Aemond said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t trust him.”

“I’m more than capable of handling Aegon," Y.N. shot back, her voice firm.

Aemond sighed. "I never said you weren’t capable. I just—" He paused, realizing how this was coming across. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I’m just trying to protect you, Y.N. That's all."

Y.N. crossed her arms, a look of mild irritation on her face. "Well, it sounds like you're doubting me."

Her moods had been unpredictable lately. One moment, she’d be happy and relaxed, the next, she was crying over something as simple as the wrong pasta brand or getting angry when he suggested healthier meals instead of her craving for fast food.

More than once, she had snapped at him to stay away, only to come to him moments later in tears, asking him to hold her or take her to bed.

As Y.N. gazed up at him from her position on the floor, Aemond braced himself, unsure of which mood she might descend into now.

But instead of another emotional outburst, she surprised him. Y.N. shifted to her knees, her eyes glinting with mischief as her fingers reached for his belt buckle.

Aemond’s breath hitched, his pulse quickening. "Y.N.," he warned, his voice low, but she silenced him with a smirk, undoing his trousers.

Next thing he knew, Y.N’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around his soft cock.

Aemond put his hand on the back of her head as started to suck his cock and caress his balls.

Soon his cock sprang to life, and Aemond was losing his mind at the sight of her pink lips stretched around his hard length.

Y.N’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.

“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through her hair.

Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.

Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.

Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.

When Y.N engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.

Y.N was driving him crazy.

Aemond forced himself to open his eyes, he had to watch her sucking his cock.

“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.

Aemond knew it would push him too far to control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.

Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.

Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth.

“It feels so good-” groaned Aemond his hand gripping her hair as he began to fuck her face.

“Hmmm” muttered Y.N as she dug her fingers into the flesh of his arse.

“I’m not going to last-if you carry on�� Aemond admitted.

Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of Aemond’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand gently cupped his balls.

“Shit Y.N! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.

She took every last drop, swallowing his seed and licking him clean.

When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.

“Was that to your liking?” asked Y.N.

“Y-Yes” gasped Aemond.

“Now can I have a Burger King?”

Aemond who was still dazed from his orgasm simply nodded. Damn that mouth of hers, he thought, his mind still reeling.

As he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.

He’d come home angry, jealous, ready to fight. Now, he was standing there, utterly undone, with no memory of why he was even frustrated in the first place.

TBC

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