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neptuneiris · 2 months ago

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Cruel Summer (03/10)

Against the Tide

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: at Crown's family tensions rise and you keep running into a person you shouldn't talk to. but both he and you can't help testing the waters.

words: 9.3k

thank you to @peachysunrize for being my beta reader, she also helped me in the previous chapter and I forgot to mention her, but finally here she is. love you bestie!❤

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I am so excited for you to read this chapter! from the next chapters onwards, what we have been waiting for begins (forbidden love)🤭 and I want to thank you once again for all the support you are giving to the story, you guys are amazing and you don't know how much I appreciate it🙏🏻 now enjoy!

warnings: half smut, language.

Sunset's Pier stretches along the boardwalk, a vibrant and lively place, especially on summer evenings.

In the distance, waves break gently against the pier and shore pillars, while palm trees sway in the cool ocean breeze.

Wooden planks creak under the feet of visitors, while the smell of the sea and freshly made food fills the air.

The stores lining the pier are clearly divided, some full of luxury, with glittering windows displaying designer dresses and accessories. And there are other more modest stores, where prices are more affordable.

Or as it would be technically said among the locals of Sunset's: stores for the rich and stores for the poor.

After an exhausting afternoon trying to surf with the boys, Alysanne drags you into the stores, excited to find something nice for tonight's party.

The two of you walk between shop windows, exploring the options, especially in the stores where you can both afford to shop. But Alysanne stops in front of one of the more expensive stores.

You watch as she gawks at a blue bikini on display on the mannequin, the color as deep as the ocean at sunset.

"Look at this!" she exclaims excitedly, almost pressing her face against the glass, "It would be perfect for tonight's party. If only I had the money to buy it," she murmurs between excited and disappointed.

You smile, understanding the desire. The bikini is really beautiful but it is obvious that the price must be very high.

"Don't you have any savings?" you ask her.

"No," she laments, "I used it to fix my phone, did you forget? I can't afford to buy a new one so I have to fix the one I already have."

"Well, I guess I—

A high-pitched laugh interrupts the conversation and when you both turn around, you instantly recognize the people.

Perfectly coiffed black hair and shiny red hair. All those impeccably dressed girls, with expensive handbags, gold accessories and designer sunglasses; Baratheon and Lannister.

But you distinguish precisely Floris Baratheon, Aemond's girlfriend.

All of them in a group watch you both with a mocking face for two things; for being in front of a store like this and for being longing for the beautiful blue bikini.

And even though they don't know you, it doesn't matter that they bother you for the radar of recognizing poor people, because the difference between you and Alysanne is too big compared to them, who can afford to shop here.

Especially since the top you are wearing at the moment is torn on one side. You don't see much but they've already seen it, as well as inspecting your dirty, old tennis shoes.

"Do you really think you can buy anything here?" speaks precisely Floris with a venomous tone, with a sneer as he looks at the bikini and then at both of you, "It's a shame you can only look. Not everyone has the privilege of affording something so nice."

"Yeah, maybe someday you can get it... in the next millennium sales."

They laugh among themselves, clearly enjoying the moment of superiority. And you clench your jaw, annoyed, especially as you watch Alysanne lower her gaze in humiliation.

"Excuse me, do we know you?" you inquire.

You obviously know them, but you won't indulge them.

"Oh dear, everyone here knows us, especially me," Floris says superiorly, adjusting her sunglasses.

"Even your kind know who we are," Cerelle also speaks with clear contempt.

Alysanne regains her composure and you instantly notice.

"Yes, we know you are such a bunch of idiotic, shallow people for thinking that the price of clothing defines someone."

"Some of us have more important things in life than spending money on something so insignificant," you too stand up for yourself and your people.

They all let out a laugh, where Floris takes a step toward you.

“Yeah, sure. The poor always find an excuse to justify their misery. How pathetic and sad," she feigns an exaggerated pout.

"I'd rather be poor than be as empty as you," Alysanne next to you snaps at her.

She arches an eyebrow at her, amused and clearly entertained, as she folds her arms in her arrogant attitude.

"Empty, huh? Well, it's better to be empty than desperate, like you two. Keep dreaming of things you can never have. But don't worry, being poor and living on the filthy side of town, dreaming is free."

"And who do you think you are huh?" Alysanne lunges at her, "You think because you are rich I can't break your face or what?"

You quickly stop her holding her by the arm, worried and of course, Floris recoils back with a frightened face and her friends don't take long to instantly surround her, shielding her as if they were her wall of protection.

"Not so talkative and brave now huh!?"

"Hey, Aly," you hold her back, "Stop it. It's not worth it."

Floris and all of them look at you both with despise.

"See? They're all savages," she says without again getting too close.

"Oh yes, very savage, just because we're defending ourselves from you making fun of us and making us less," Alysanne tells her firmly and in a defiant tone, "But you can't even defend yourself. So I advise you to talk less or I'll break that pretty rich girl face of yours."

It is clear that Floris wants to say more mean words, but she stops when she notices someone else walking towards the group, completely oblivious to the situation and you also recognize this person; Helaena Targaryen.

She with her usual calm, appears near you, but stops just in front of another nearby store, casually observing a clothing through the glass without noticing the tensions.

And you curiously notice how Floris, upon seeing her, remains silent for a moment. Then you guess that she doesn't want to show her true colors in front of her sister-in-law.

"Let's go," she orders in a lower and less confident tone than before.

Her friends obey without another word and begin to walk away, but not before giving your cousin a last contemptuous and disdainful glance at your side.

And you too, of course.

Helaena also leaves with them as they approach her, her silver hair shining in the sunlight and moving with impeccable grace.

Alysanne lets out a frustrated sigh next to you, still angry.

"I can't believe those idiots think they have the right to treat us like this. And all because of what? For not being rich like them?" she inquires in disbelief, "Do you realize how stupid that is?"

"Let them stay in their bubble," you mutter, feeling just as irritated, "We're not rich but we're better people than they are."

Alysanne takes a deep breath, shaking off the adrenaline of the moment, then you both go your own way, trying not to let this thing that happened ruin your day.

Especially since you have another party tonight, unfortunately with those girls, but it's not like you're going to be with them.

And just as ten o'clock at night falls, Cregan's car and the excited shouts of the guys rushing you to get into the car can be heard practically all over the street.

Alysanne again shushes them, as your uncle and aunt are asleep, as well as most likely the neighbors, and you both quickly get into the car amidst laughter and scolding of the guys.

Then Cregan's car speeds up and soon all of you are walking into the Crown's side.

The party is as always; on the beach. And it's everything you'd expect being among the rich. The DJ can't miss, the clean beach, the pier, the yachts and the smell of alcohol mixed with the sea breeze, among other substances.

Tonight you decide not to focus on the people around you and together with the guys, sit on the white sand, while Cregan and Sam go for as many beers and bottles of champagne as possible.

Alysanne is also not in the mood to be inspecting and lusting after Pandora accessories on all the rich girls that are here. So the two of you relax.

Chase lights the bonfire in the center and pretty soon everyone is drinking, talking and laughing, enjoying the party and nothing else.

Every now and then some guys come up to greet Cregan, who greets them back without much enthusiasm and returns to the group, where you notice how attentive he is especially to Alysanne.

You don't say anything and just continue drinking, laughing at the guys' jokes and burning a few marshmallows, when then... you feel it.

A piercing look on your face.

You don't doubt it's a girl inspecting you, so you don't think anything of it at first. But then... it's as if that look burns you and wants to see through you, sending shivers through your whole body.

You look around, just out of curiosity, but when you raise your gaze absentmindedly towards the direction of the yachts, to the part of the deck specifically, your eyes meet piercing blue eyes.

Then you see him.

Aemond Targaryen.

Time seems to stand still and you feel more of the weight of his gaze, that same weight you felt last night on the pier, when he caught you.

You also feel a surge of nerves course through your body, with your heart racing as you remember the night before. It's not fear, but it's something close to it.

Because now he's caught you here too, at a party of his people, at Crown's.

And the weird thing is that you didn't expect it and you feel so silly about the fact. How could you not think that he would be here and that the two of you would probably see each other after last night?

Even though it's no longer a probability, he's seeing you right now and sees what you're doing; pretending to be one of them.

You watch as his gaze briefly sweeps over the guys you're with and honestly... you don't know how to feel about it. Technically, you're not doing anything wrong here either, are you?

‘Then why do you feel so embarrassed?’

His piercing eye again focuses on you and you, for some strange reason, don't look away and neither does he. It's as if the two of you are caught in a game you can't avoid.

No one seems to notice the silent exchange between the two of you, except you and him. But you know that talking to him, getting close to him in public, is impossible.

You know it and you know he knows it too. It's like a law in Sunset's among its locals but more specifically among those your age; the rich and the poor can't be friends.

You bite the inside of your cheek, even without both of you looking away, where both of you are too far away to say anything to each other, but the looks say it all.

Then, it is he who looks away when Floris holds his face and kisses him softly on the lips, claiming his attention. You feel a sting of something pinch your stomach and you force yourself to stop focusing on him as well.

You try to refocus on what the guys around you are saying, but you can't, not now that he's here too.

You didn't tell anyone about what happened last night with him on his pier, because nothing really bad happened, except the fact that you almost got caught.

It was just a conversation with the son of the richest man in the whole country and heir to his fortune, nothing more.

Although the memory has followed you ever since.

Unable to help yourself, you look at him again, where you see him surrounded by his friends and also distinguish his brother, Aegon. And of course, Floris, sitting on his lap.

He is no longer watching you but you wonder what he might be thinking now that he has seen you here too.

'Probably nothing.'

You think, since for him, what happened on the pier was just a conversation, a small slip in which you both sought some solace and nothing more, an insignificant moment.

What else could he think of having shared his time with a Black Waves girl?

You let out a long breath and your eyes roam his features, as the same thoughts from last night return to your mind when you were also slyly admiring him.

'He is so handsome.'

You think as you also admire his short silver hair and see a silver chain peeking out from between the collar part of his shirt, with that simple accessory making him look so ridiculously good.

But you cannot pass Floris Baratheon unnoticed, on his lap, talking to him and leaving from time to time some kisses on his lips or on his cheek.

You shake your head, clearly being impossible, since he belongs to a world that is not yours, to a social class that would see you as an intruder if you even tried to approach.

So you can only think that what happened on the pier was just a one-time thing, a quirk and a moment that you must now bury in oblivion.

Aemond Targaryen, as a child, does not remember a single moment when his family did not attract attention.

He does not remember a single moment where his mother did not ask him, as well as his siblings, to accompany her and his father to an event in the town for work and simply to see them all together as a perfect and powerful family.

He has forgotten the countless times where his father, Viserys, introduces him and his siblings to his associates and all those important people more as trophies than as what they really are; his children.

With Aegon the introduction is brief, for after all, no one expected his first eldest son not to follow in his same footsteps as his older first daughter did, Rhaenyra.

But Aemond knows that Aegon is... uncontrollable.

As a teenager he began to show signs that he didn't want to go into business or anything like it or anything relatively formal.

As much as his mother, Alicent, and even his own father and grandfather Otto tried to scold, persuade and convince him, it only caused Aegon to back away from the idea and start doing whatever he pleased.

For him only desire has always been to simply live life and find out what he really wants.

Then there is Helaena, who followed the same path as Aegon but in a more controlled way and with different aspirations to life though just as flattering, which is to study marine biology.

And finally there is him, Aemond Targaryen.

He saw the whole process of his older brothers in deciding not to devote himself to the business or rather empire that his father has built. With Aegon it all turned out to be a disaster but Helaena was more persuasive.

So someone had to do it, follow in his father's footsteps as Rhaenyra did, but this time a man, a son and that had to be him.

Daeron still lacked time to decide and grow up some more. So he watched as his father began to despair and have fights with his mother and everyone at home for not being able to choose the aspirations and decisions of his children.

So it was he who calmed the storm at home when he announced that he would apply to college to study business management to carry on the Targaryen legacy, just like Rhaenyra.

His father was overjoyed, as was his mother and for the first time, in that small moment, Aemond felt that he was finally receiving that recognition and appreciation from him.

But then he realized that it was never worth it.

After searching for so long for a way for his father to finally see him for what he is, his son, when that moment came it wasn't worth it and it didn't make him feel any better.

Because Aemond knows deep down that only his father was happy for him out of convenience, to mold him to how he wants and because that way, he is just another piece on his board.

And it became quite clear to him the moment his father expressed his idea about the Baratheon's.

Viserys, even with all he has and having an advisor at his side like his grandfather Otto, wants more.

And Borros Baratheon is that more by being the owner of the most important commercial fleet operating along the entire Pacific coast of all. Viserys needs to transport freight for its big company, which is what Borros does.

Viserys needs freight for his great enterprise, which is what Borros is all about. But Borros Baratheon is a difficult and greedy man who also wants more, even to Viserys Targaryen himself.

So he and his entire team focus on an easier target that will get him to the finish line; his daughter, Floris.

Any of his daughters would have sufficed, but considering Floris is about the same age as Aemond and his father had already seen her get her hopes up for him at events, it was the perfect idea.

At first Aemond refused. For the moment he had no intention with any girl, especially any of the Baratheon sister’s. But his father insisted.

Viserys explained to him how much he needed such a partnership and asked him to start asking her out to eventually formalize and make the deal with his father easier.

Aemond tried to help him find other alternatives, tried to make him understand that he didn't want nor could he play with Floris' feelings in that way to achieve a partnership.

But none of that helped.

His mother sided with his father, with the difference that she was more sensible on the subject and asked him to try and take the time to get to know her, that maybe he might really like her.

So he had to give in and before long, he was in a formal relationship with Floris Baratheon.

And now this is his life.

Not that much has changed, but there are these fights at home between her mother and father because there's really no love between them.

There's also fighting between his father and his siblings over the choice of what they really want to do with their lives while they're all attending events to pretend to be this perfect family that they are.

And he's in a relationship with a person he doesn't really want to be with and as soon as the summer is over, he's going off to college to study with pressure and expectations on his shoulders for a degree he doesn't really want to study.

But as anyone in Sunset's would think, both Crown's and Black Waves; the Targaryens are perfect.

“Hey.”

A voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he looks up as he sees Aegon approaching him, shorts on, sandals, a white t-shirt, sunglasses and phone in hand.

"I was looking all over for you. What are you doing?"

He lets out a long breath and closes his book to place it back on the shelf.

"What do you want?"

"Get dressed. We have a party tonight," he lets him know, then starts typing on his phone.

"Another one?" he asks with a serious look on his face.

"What?" he becomes indignant, shrugging, "Come on, it's summer. And everyone will be there. Cassandra told me Floris is going."

"I don't want to go."

He looks at him with a frown.

"What are you talking about?" he asks him blankly, "You're going to stay here reading these stupid books all summer? You're going to college for another two months!"

"Helaena and Daeron will go with you, I don't understand why you want me to go too," he tells him grumpily, choosing another of the many books in the library.

"Helaena is sick and Daeron promised to stay with her to watch movies," he tells him as if were the gravest sins in the world, "Come on, man. Come with me. And I won't ask you for anything again, this will be the last time, I promise."

"That's what you always say, like I don't know you," he says as he picks up a book and sets it on the table, "You're just so fucking annoying."

Aegon lets out a frustrated groan.

"Come on, don't be like that. You'll have more time to read and be doing these boring things you like to do," he tries to convince him, pointing to the books.

But Aemond says nothing to him and, of course, Aegon starts to throw his tantrum.

"Aemond," he complains, "Come on, please."

And the sound of his voice is already starting to annoy him, especially being in the library.

“Aegon—

"Come on," he interrupts him, insistent, "I really don't want to stay here and listen to dad yelling and fighting with mom all night, man."

Aemond lets out a long breath again and with nonchalant movements watches his brother over his shoulder, looking serious and now slowly becoming resigned.

And soon enough, they are both already in his car, driving towards the Lannister house.

Normally he wouldn't have agreed to come, but he recognizes that Aegon is right and the truth is that he doesn't want to stay at home listening to his parents' quarrels either.

Even though his house is huge, the shouting echoes through the halls, and then his father in all his anger goes against Aegon as well, where Helaena intervenes, then Daeron and finally him to try to calm the waters.

And he's tired of it.

Just last night another one of those fights happened, his mother was almost in tears and Helaena too, while Aegon and his father were shouting all the worst things possible at each other.

And that's why he decided to go to the pier after he failed to fall asleep.

As he drives, his gaze softens as he remembers you.

He still doesn't understand how a girl like you, from Black Waves, for a whole year was going to his family's pier at midnight without being discovered.

He doesn't understand how you did it either and he's not sure he wants to know. He was about to call security, of that he has no doubt, especially considering the robberies some of his neighbors suffered.

Because that's what he first thought, that you were a thief and he was trying to do something with his yacht.

However, it was something in your fear and pleading, perhaps also that you didn't have something suspicious on hand to try to do harm and the sincerity in your gaze after silently evaluate you that he saw to finally understand that you weren't doing anything wrong.

It was bad to cross over private property but other than that, he saw you earlier, before he approached from a distance, sitting on the edge of the pier looking out over the horizon.

But he still had to make sure and it all turned out very interesting.

That you were on his pier, risking that you could be caught, simply because that place gives you peace and quiet, caught his attention.

It seemed... unusual. Something out of the ordinary. Maybe because you're a Black Waves girl.

But still, it's something he's not used to hearing from others in appreciating something so simple and plain but so meaningful to that person.

And being there with you... everything in his mind disappeared.

All his excessive thoughts, frustrations, pressures, expectations and stress disappeared for a moment, which is very difficult for him to do in the midst of all the storm in his mind.

And strangely, because he shouldn't have, he spent a nice time with you, an unknown Black Waves girl, even if he didn't show it much at the time.

He doubts that was a good idea, to let you stay and still tell you that you can keep going to thepier. But technically... nothing bad happened.

And doubt that I'll ever see you again, last night was just a coincidence, besides that shouldn't happen, right?

In the town where you both live, a poor girl and a rich man can't even be friends. And much less he can afford something like that because of his family name.

Again his thoughts are interrupted as they enter the area where the Lannisters live and Aegon immediately chatter excitedly about how amazing the party looks.

And soon enough the two find themselves walking onto the beach and onto the Lannister dock.

It's the same as always, there's really nothing new, just decorations, DJ, open bar with bottles of vodka, wine and champagne as well as beer, cocktails and the smell of cigarettes and weed in the salty air.

All the people are dancing and getting drunk, as well as there are other people having mini bonfires, drinking and burning marshmallows.

When a group of people catches Aegon's eye on one of the yachts, he takes no time at all to drag him along with him.

And just like that he meets Floris, who greets him very happily with a hug and a kiss on his lips, which he tries to reciprocate as genuinely as possible.

Aegon goes off to find a girl to stick his tongue down her throat and he stays on the yacht with Floris and his friends.

Quickly some of his friends offer him drinks to cheer him up and he declines as he has to drive, so he only chooses to light a cigarette, wanting the night to pass quickly.

And so the hours pass, with nothing really interesting going on around him and Floris sitting on his lap, trying to keep up with her to also try to be a good boyfriend.

But all he wants to do is go home.

"Are you okay?"

Floris' voice brings him out of his thoughts and he turns his head towards her, where she watches him with a small smile on her lips and with one of her hands starting to stroke his short silver hair.

"Yeah," he tells her in a low murmur, then takes another sip from the only bottle of beer he'll be drinking tonight.

"Are you sure? I didn't even know you were coming. I texted you and you didn't respond," she says making a pout.

And he avoids looking instantly annoyed.

It's not that Floris is a bad girl, she really tries because she really loves him. But he doesn't feel the same and doubts he ever will, though he tries.

"Yeah, you're right, sorry, I was busy in the library," he explains briefly.

"At the library?" she repeats confused, "Why?"

"I'm getting a head start on reading books for college," he again explains as briefly as possible.

Luckily she doesn't say anything more on the subject but continues to sit on his lap and try to get him to talk, even though he's not really having any of that right now but he doesn't want to be rude to her either.

So when she starts talking to one of her friends, he looks in all directions, scanning the party without again finding anything interesting.

But then in the midst of analysis he sees it.

Or rather he sees you.

A few meters below him on the sand, confused, he immediately recognizes you, sitting among a group of guys and a girl with a bottle of beer in hand, laughing and talking to all of them.

And again he wonders; what are you doing here?

And you can't blame him, he really doesn't get it, it was surprising enough seeing you on his pier, in the most exclusive and private area of all Crown's as to also see you here, on the Lannister's pier, a Black Waves girl mixed up as if you were one of them.

He sweeps his gaze over all the guys you're with and is more surprised to see you talking and laughing with Cregan Stark.

Then he gets it all.

He's the one who gives you access, as well as your friends and that girl you're with, who he assumes must be your cousin from what you told him last night, all except Cregan belonging to Black Waves.

And there you are, again not hurting anybody, but pretending to belong to Crown's.

All the guys you're with are certainly having a great time and so are you, while he again focuses on Cregan, from whom he honestly expected it.

He doesn't include himself much with the guys from his part of town, sometimes he talks to him or Helaena, but nothing more. Now he knows why.

And somehow he can't take his eye off you.

He watches you curiously, analyzing you, seeing that you have guts, just like your cousin and your friends, to take risks like this.

At any moment anyone could expose you if they watch you too much, but you don't seem to care about that, nor do the others.

And then, his gaze meets yours.

He sees you freeze for a moment, as if you are once again trapped by him, which actually you are and he, for some reason, doesn't look away and neither do you.

Memories of last night invade him again and he can guess how you must be thinking about it too.

But he can also guess how you again feel exposed and how terribly nervous you must feel. As if you are afraid that he, now that he has seen you here too, will expose you once and for all.

But it is as if it were a game of stares, as neither of them look away from each other. It's not as if they can talk, the distance is too much, also considering that he is on top of a yacht.

But what if this were not the case? Would the two of you talk?

Aemond knows perfectly well that they wouldn't.

"Hey, did you hear what I said, babe?"

Floris makes him turn his gaze away from you to focus on her as he feels her turn from his cheek with her hand towards her to plant a soft kiss on his lips, wanting his full attention.

And he awkwardly reciprocates as his attention is still on you.

But he forces himself to take that attention away from you, especially as he still has Floris sitting on his lap with both arms around his neck, glued to him.

And it's here that he assumes, as you do, though he doesn't know it, that what happened last night was just a one-time thing, two people seeking refuge from the world on the pier one night.

But that's all.

The two of you must not know each other, you can't talk or be seen together, mostly because of different social classes, which leads to pretending that the two of you don't know each other and haven't spoken to each other even once.

And what happened that night, on the pier, didn't happen.

A pile of dishes are placed in front of him on the table in the huge back garden of his house which is basically on the shore of the beach, having a spectacular view of the ocean, the beach, the pier, the cliffs around and also the huge houses of his neighbors.

His mother thanks the cooks, who retire and leave his mother, father and him alone.

Aegon must still be asleep, Daeron too because he probably stayed up watching movies with Helaena all nigth who is still very ill. So he is the only one who joins the breakfast.

He looks carefully at a message from Rhaenyra, which is accompanied by two PDF books.

'These books helped me a lot when I first started studying, you can read them if you want to before you go to uni so you have an idea of everything you will learn.'

Aemond reviews both books, both over 400 pages, being very dense material and being exactly what awaits him at college, but he also knows it's important.

He runs a hand down his neck and responds to her text.

'Thank you, Rhae.'

Ever since his older sister knew he would be going into business as well, she's been supporting him.

It's not like from the beginning the two of them had a good relationship, especially since she's the daughter of their father's first wife and there was no first-rate bond, neither with him nor with her other siblings.

But now that she has a family and he has matured enough, at least more than Aegon, that relationship has slowly begun to be forged and maintained.

Besides he is grateful to receive genuine support. Especially from her, already an expert on the subject and with whom he will probably lead the Targaryen empire in the future.

"Are you going to have breakfast, son?"

His mother's soft voice causes him to look away from his phone screen and set it aside, having no interest in responding to messages from Floris or a few of his friends who were with him last night at the party.

"Yeah, sorry."

He tries to catch up with their pace, making himself his cup of coffee the way he likes it.

"Rhaenyra tells me you're planning to take a management course in the middle of summer, son," his father says, catching his attention, "Is that true?"

And he doesn't ask it in a bad way, on the contrary, it surprises Aemond to see how he has pride in his eyes.

"Yeah, well... I think they'll do me good before I go to college."

"Yes, very good idea," Alicent says, watching him proudly as she notices all his dedication to his study, as it has always been.

"Oh yes, of course," Viserys agrees, without hesitation, "Have you found the right course yet?"

"I'm still working on it."

"But..." he frowns slightly, watching him not entirely convinced, "How are things going with that girl... uh... Floris?"

He immediately feels an uncomfortable sensation in his lower abdomen, stirring in his chair as he runs a hand over the back of his neck, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to maintain a normal appearance.

"Good," he replies briefly, without looking at him, "Everything's fine."

"Yeah?" he asks seeing his reaction, "You've been hanging out with her?"

"We were together last night," he says without wanting to go into details, wanting to get that topic over with.

And Alicent also sees how his son is starting to react.

"Floris usually comes in often during the day," she tells her husband in a soft tone with a cup of coffee in her hands, "You don't see her because you're at work."

"Well, that's good to know," he says pleased, though not entirely satisfied, turning his focus back to him, "I fully support the idea of the course, it will definitely do you good but... you can't neglect that girl. Your relationship with her is very advantageous to the company and very soon her father and I will start having meetings."

He brings a hand to the back of his neck again, staring at a fixed point on the table as he presses his lips together, controlling his emotions and what he really wants to say to him.

His mother stares at him, alert, not wanting him and his father to have fights too. But it is clear that he too is already reaching his limit.

However, Aemond knows that he has more self-control, besides he's already into all of this, so he has no choice but to accept, again, what his father tells him.

"Is that what you want me to do?" he asks him in a low tone, honestly feeling tired.

"Of course," his father states sternly, as if it were obvious, "We must have all the most suitable people possible in the company. And the Baratheon's are crucial to our expansion."

Aemond looks up, but says nothing, because he already knows the speech. The Baratheon's, power, family and company.

"Yes but that really isn't the most important thing," his mother interjects again, "After all, Floris is a very nice and pretty girl. I can tell she really cares about you, son."

He can't help but purse his lips at that comment. He knows Floris isn't a bad girl but she's not exactly nice either. And that doesn't change the fact that he's not interested in her.

"Yes and for that very reason you must not ruin things with her," his father insists, "We have to partner with her father and you can't let her slip through your fingers."

"Viserys," his mother calls out to him with mild reproach.

"You know how important this is, Alicent," he begins to say with reproach in his tone, "I have already lost hope in Aegon. It seems he will never change and will be a good-for-nothing for the rest of his life, taking nothing seriously."

"Don't talk about your son like that," his mother scolds him.

"I'm not going to live forever and someone has to take over the company and support this family. But that doesn't matter to him in the least," he continues, "Daeron is still young and I'm thankful that at least Aemond has taken the same direction as Rhaenyra and me."

Aemond says nothing as his mother continues to reproach, annoyed to hear how Viserys refers to her children, especially Aegon.

And he remains silent, fed up with these discussions, family pressures, expectations and being the only one of his children whom his father seems to trust.

And the worst thing is that he can't say anything, because he knows very well that his father considers him as his last resort and in a way... he doesn't want to fail him and he doesn't want everything in his family to explode.

Even if it means he has to sacrifice his own life for the good of the family, he has to do this and it's not worth arguing with his father because it's no use and he's not going to change his mind.

His father starts to raise his voice, his mother too and he ends up going to his room with his morning already ruined, annoyed, tired and grumpy.

And when he tries to distract himself, to occupy himself with his own personal matters so as not to think too much, just at that moment Floris comes to visit.

Just now he doesn't have the capacity to want to be around her, or anyone in general, he just wants peace and quiet, but considering the conversation he had with his father, he is not able to ask her as nicely as possible to come another day.

"I was with Cerelle at my house but I got too bored, even though I told her to meet me tonight at the beach."

She begins to talk as she starts pacing all around his room he just sits there with his desk in front of him and a few books open.

"I also talked to Royce, he said he would be coming for a visit soon. My dad is still mad at him for leaving but I'm sure he'll get over it. I also heard that Jeyne wants to have a party the next week and..."

And so he listens to her voice continuously, talking about everything she did and didn't do in her day, while he puts a hand to his forehead and lets out a long breath, trying not to sound irritated.

"Oh and I went to the mall with Cerelle. I bought a beautiful bag and clothes for our trip to Hawaii," she says excitedly, "My dad has already arranged everything and my family is so excited for you to come with us. I'm also..."

Her voice slowly fades slowly, becoming a distant murmur, as he sinks deeper into his seat and stares at a spot in his room.

His brow furrows and his mind drifts further away from the conversation.

He can't find a way to tell her to stop talking without looking rude and frustrated, but the last thing he wants to do is listen to her right now and the last thing he wanted was for her to show up at his house this day.

He has enough going on in his family lately, especially with his father and he's not in the mood to be dealing with people right now.

He's fed up with everything and all he wants is to be alone while a wave of mental exhaustion washes over him. He wants to get away from everyone for a moment, to have no one bother him so he can have peace and quiet.

"Aemond."

The hand on his shoulder and the voice so close to him brings him back to reality. He blinks and raises his gaze to Floris, who watches him in confusion.

"Are you listening to me?"

"Yes," he says awkwardly and clears his throat, "Sorry," he says, turning his gaze to the front and stirring in his chair.

But she raises her hand towards him, placing it gently on his cheek and Aemond tenses immediately, as she forces him to look at her again gently but firmly enough.

"Are you sure? Are you okay?" she asks him genuinely concerned, "You didn't seem to be listening to me."

"Yes I was and I'm fine, don't worry," he tells her trying to sound convincing.

But Floris is having none of it.

"Is it because of your father or college?"

The silence that follows is palpable as he averts his gaze and removes his hand from her face with a nonchalant gesture. He says nothing but it's clear she's hit the nail on the head.

And Floris lets out a long, resigned sigh, already expecting that. For it is so typical of him not to confide his thoughts and feelings to her.

She's tired of her own boyfriend raising this constant wall between the two of them, where he doesn't want to open up to her. It hasn't been long since the two started dating but still, despite being a couple, there is no trust.

"Aemond," she murmurs his name softly and unexpectedly takes a seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Floris," he calls her name awkwardly as well, trying to shake her off, "Wait, I don't—

"You know you can talk to me about anything," she interrupts him, her tone insistent but with a gentleness that she hopes will soften the situation, "I mean...I'm your girlfriend and I'm here for you whenever you need something, talk or anything."

He lets out a long sigh, feeling the weight of her insistence and the firmness with which she remains sitting on him.

The feeling of oppression invades him, both physically and emotionally.

"It's not... I don't..." he tries to speak, "Look, it's not that I don't want to tell you, but..." he gets frustrated, not finding the words or even the will to talk to her, "It's a lot of things."

"You can tell me," she insists, "Come on, babe. I just want to help you," she says as she begins to stroke his hair.

He close his eye for a moment, his patience quickly wearing thin.

"I don't want to talk," he makes it clear to her in a cold, resigned, tired tone.

She shrugs.

"Then we won't," she says simply, accepting that, "But I want you to understand that I'm here for you."

"Yes, I know," he says without even looking at her, running a hand through his hair.

"We can always do other things," she mentions with a certain tone that Aemond understands instantly.

And before he can do anything, she is already kissing him.

The kiss starts slow and soft, while he has difficulties to reciprocate at first, but Floris doesn't stop and pulls the back of his neck towards her, deepening the kiss.

And he with all the mental chaos he has, tries to reciprocate as best he can, trying to forget at least for a moment.

Floris' hands begin to move down, sliding her fingers slowly over his chest while her other hand gently stroke his hair. Aemond tries to lose himself in the sensation, in the moment and let himself go, so he places both hands on her waist.

She begins to move slightly on top of him, her breathing becoming more agitated and her tongue making its way between his lips, wanting more.

He tries to keep up with her and when Floris begins to rub her center against him, his body responds automatically, letting out a slight grunt without stopping the kiss.

Floris' need is evident and when she brings one of her hands to the edge of his shirt and pulls away from his lips, she watches him with full intent and desire in her gaze, her lips red and swollen.

"I want you now," she murmurs against his lips.

He doesn't say anything, just watches her, truly not so sure. But then he thinks: fuck it.

He's tired and exhausted from carrying the weight of everything around him. He just wants to forget, if only for a few moments. So when Floris starts to take off his shirt, he allows it.

She kisses him again with more intensity and he responds with more fervor than before.

Her hands begin to roam all over his naked torso and he stands up, both hands on her thighs, leading her towards his bed.

Soon Floris is on top of him again and feels a spark of electricity run through his skin as her hands touch the edge of his shorts, but before that happens, she slowly pulls down the straps of her dress.

Aemond watches her wordlessly, with his dark eye and indecipherable expression, as Floris complacently takes her time, enjoying every second, wanting him to desire her.

The straps fall and the top of her summer dress slides off, revealing her breasts. Aemond swallows hard, a mixture of desire and bewilderment passing through his body.

She leans into him again to kiss him, as she takes one of his hands and places it on her breast, prompting him to caress her.

He does so, almost mechanically, trying to let himself go and lose himself in the moment, as she rubs herself against him again, making him more aware of how he begins to get hard, his breathing hitching.

But when Floris' hand descends and slips under his shorts, touching him, it is as if his mind wakes up and sends an alert throughout his body.

Suddenly, he stops kissing her and takes her hand roughly, stopping her. Floris watches him confused and half-naked on top of him, still shaken and not understanding anything.

"Aemond?"

He closes his eye tightly and lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head and bringing a hand to his forehead, clenching his jaw.

"Fuck," he mutters.

"What's wrong?" Floris asks him without understanding what has changed so suddenly.

But he doesn't answer, just shakes his head again and pulls her hand away, to also gently brush her off of him.

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

Floris watches him from his bed, still with confusion on her face and quickly adjusts her dress, covering her naked body.

Her breathing is still rapid, but not so much from desire, but from the feeling of rejection that is infiltrating her. And again, for an instant, she thought this would never happen again.

But here they are, him pulling her away and her heart broken again by the humiliation.

"It's been a while," she murmurs, lowering her gaze, “Y-you don't..." her lips tremble, "You don't touch me."

He doesn't look at her, he can't.

"I know. I'm sorry," he says in a low tone, the apology falling with a tone of resignation.

He picks up his T-shirt that's on the floor and puts it on, bringing a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration. And Floris watches him still completely confused.

"I just don't get it," she insists, "We're a couple. We should... be okay, I don't know," she says confused, "And I don't understand you. You don't talk to me, Aemond."

Aemond rubs his forehead, the pressure behind his eyes growing. He doesn't know how to explain, doesn't know how to put into words all the thoughts that suffocate him.

And he can't tell her that he doesn't really want to be with her either.

"I need to go," he says flatly.

"What?" she moves quickly, catching his arm, "No, please don't go," she tells him, her tone full of pleading, "I think we should talk."

"I can't, Floris. Not now."

Without trying to be abrupt, he releases his grip and Floris, unmoving, watches him as he takes his phone and car keys without another word.

And he walks away, leaving her alone in his room.

He has no doubt that he will be in trouble for this later, maybe she will mention what happened to her sisters, eventually it will reach her father's ears about her having problems with their relationship and then it will reach his father's ears, demanding explanations from him.

He's not supposed to let her get out of his hands, as his father says, but now he really doesn't care about that.

He doesn't want to be with her and he shouldn't have let that happen. He should have stopped everything the moment she started kissing him.

Sex has been off the table for a while now. He has only slept with her once, when they both started dating for the first time.

He barely remembers it. It was after they both went to a party. He drank a little more than he normally does and assumes that's why what happened at her house happened.

And mostly it hasn't happened again because he doesn't have the interest. He doesn't feel the need with her. And just when he thinks it will finally happen when he lets himself go, in the moment he can't do it because it's feels wrong and pushes her away, leaving the action half done.

And it's not her fault, it's his doing. But he knows that if he explained it to her, she wouldn't understand.

But just like that, another new frustration joins the storm in his mind.

Now he walks towards the pier, the only place where he feels he can breathe. The sound of the waves gently breaking against the wooden pillars, which is the only thing that accompanies him as he sinks into his thoughts.

He doesn't expect anyone to follow him or look for him there. In fact, the last thing he needs is someone else demanding something from him.

For now, he doesn't want to be the perfect son, the boyfriend who should be attentive or the future heir to the family business. What he desperately wants is to escape the expectations that stifle him day after day.

He leans against the wooden stand and stares out into the deep, dark ocean, letting his mind wander, as he feels all the frustration wash over him and in an instant, he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one.

He inhales deeply, letting the smoke invade his lungs, seeking in that sensation a temporary relief from the pressure he constantly feels.

He enjoys his solitude, he has been used to it since he was a child. In many ways, he prefers it and finds it easier.

It is only now that he feels he is getting closer to his family or at least his siblings since his father has put more pressure on everyone. But he has not approached in the way he had hoped.

Aegon is not serious enough to broach the subject and evades his family in clouds of alcohol, parties and girls. Halaena is more independent and wrapped up in her own world, with her way of coping without getting swept away.

Daeron doesn't yet understand the gravity of the expectations that will one day fall on him. And Rhaenyra... she's away with her own family.

And friends... he has no friends. At least, not genuine ones. They are not people he can trust without their own interests involved.

And if he were to talk to any of them, it would be the same as with Floris; an empty conversation, full of awkward silences and expectations.

That's why at times like these, he strangely wishes he had someone to talk to. Someone who doesn't look at him with judgment or see him only as the heir who has to do his duty.

He needs someone who sees him for who he is, without expectations, without judgment. He just wants to be himself, wants to be just Aemond, without the unbearable weight of expectations.

'What would that be like?'

He wonders with genuine interest and even a certain... longing. But he knows he'll probably never know. Not with the life he has.

He inhales deeply once more, the smoke mingling with the salty wind, enjoying the fleeting respite this place affords him. Then in the midst of his peace and quiet, the wood creaks softly under the footsteps that are not his.

He frowns and looks toward the entrance to the pier, thinking maybe it must be some of the security men, but then... he sees you.

He frowns more and attentively, he watches you walk, back straight and with cautious steps, as if trying not to make noise as you walk away, unaware of the creaking wood betraying you.

Then he wonders what you are doing here and why you are leaving.

He remembers that he told you you could come back but doesn't understand why you're leaving. And before he can stop to think about what he is doing, he calls out you'r name.

"Y/N!?"

You stop immediately, your body tensing as if you've been caught doing something you shouldn't, again.

You bite your lips nervously and slowly turn to look at him, some sorrow on your face as he continues to stare at you in confusion.

And well... he's already caught you, again, first here two nights ago, yesterday at the party and now here again, so what's the point?

"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I... I didn't see you on my way over here," you explain, "And well... I thought you might want to be alone."

Your gaze focuses on his, and for a second, the whole world seems to shrink down to just the two of you, as if you were the only ones on the beach, under the dim lights of the pier.

And he doesn't say anything to you, he just watches you intently. And you take that as a sign to leave.

"I'll leave you alone," you assure him in a soft tone, starting to turn away.

And again, Aemond without thinking, decides to stop you.

"Wait," he says finally, in a soft voice, "You don't have to go."

You watch him carefully and curiously as you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, a little unsure.

"Are you sure?"

He says nothing, just gives you a slight nod and you, hesitantly, finally take a step towards him and then another, beginning to close the distance to join him at the end of the pier.

An anticipation and excitement begins to grow within you, with the sea breeze and the sound of the waves enveloping you.

You feel a slight tension begin to grow between the two of you. It's not uncomfortable but it's not easy to ignore either. And both Aemond and you know that you are both walking on uncertain ground.

But neither of you can help it.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond one eye #modern aemond #modern hotd #modern au

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evolnoomym · 3 months ago

Text

I’ll Make You Love Me💋

Bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: In Joel’s eyes you are an unpleasant person. Yet he has to pretend as if he would not want to get rid of you for Sarah’s sake, she loves you so much you are her best friend. Well Joel also feels terrible for the rather unethical thoughts he has of you.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni !!!!!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: no y/n, introducing “Lucky”, female oc character, Sarah is 18, Lucky is 21, Joel’s age is not mentioned but he’s at least double Lucky’s age, degradation, humiliation, Dark, Joel is mean, he calls you Bitch/Slut/Junkie, spanking, dub-con, Daddy Kink, Manspreading hehe 😉, pervy!Joel, tears, Joel enjoys her tears, manhandling, hair pulling, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, a tiny fluffy moment, alludes to BJ, Joel can also be nice,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @toxicanonymity ‘s manspreading olympics. ❤️‍🔥

Shoutout to @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics for the dividers ❤️

Big thank you to @jennaispunk and @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading ❤️‍🔥🌙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 💋

Songs I listened to while writing:

What You Do by James Gillespie

Bad Girls by M.I.A

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

Salvatore by Lana Del Rey

Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey

Waiting Game by BANKS

Into It by Chase Atlantic

You should feel bad for thinking of him in such a peculiar way. You should be ashamed for even considering him an option. He is totally off limits considering he’s much older, a busy mature man and most importantly Sarah’s Dad. Sarah the sweet girl that has been your Bestfriend for over 2 years.

It excited you in the beginning how much Joel hated your presence in his daughter’s life. He didn’t approve of this friendship ever since Sarah at 16 years old first brought you, her 19 year old friend, over for the first time.

In front of Sarah he tried his hardest to appear polite but you could see right through his facade from the beginning. And one evening when Sarah was already fast asleep you gave Joel a piece of your mind in the kitchen.

“Mister Miller let’s stop these silly games we both know what’s going on…you don’t like me and I couldn’t fucking care less.” You scoff and get off the counter, slowly drawing closer to Joel “You hate me so much but Sarah loves me soooooo much and imagine how upset she’d be to know that her Daddy doesn’t want her to be happy. Wouldn’t that be a shame,huh?” You question with an enticing head tilt.

Now you’re right in front of him, toe to toe with big bad imposing Joel Miller. You can feel the pulling in your lower belly from being so close and most importantly smelling his manly musky scent. You remind yourself that you gotta stay focused if you want to win this game.

You get even closer until your able to place your hands on his warm broad chest sliding them slightly upwards his shoulders. “What the hell r ya doin?” Joel hisses.

You lean up to whisper in his ear “Nothing, just letting you know that I eat guys like you for breakfast, I chew you up and spit you out. You’re not a threat to me, old man.” You pull back and give him a sinister sickly smile.

The wickedness in your tone causes goosebumps to prickle on his flesh.

You feed off of seeing him scared. You enjoy knowing what kinda effect you have on this usually so collected man.

“Goodnight Mister Miller, better start sleeping with one eye open from now on.” You giggle while skipping up the stairs.

That was the start of it all.

Now 2 years later with Sarah just having turned 18, Joel realizes that you two are gonna keep him on his toes even more than already.

The 18th birthday celebration was already a disaster, what Joel assumed would be a relaxed family gathering turned into you crashing the party and taking Sarah out, of course Sarah was excited so how could Joel say no.

Well when you two didn’t return at 12 pm like promised he admittedly got worried, but he wanted to trust Sarah so he tried to stay calm.

At 3 am he hears the screeching tires from some show off guys car and loud drunkish giggling. The princesses have officially arrived back home from their trip, almost 4 hours too late.

When Joel opens the front door he sees you and Sarah practically half draped over your shoulder stubbling up the starirs in sloppy drunk steps. You two are giggling and mumbling at each other in a language Joel does not understand, it certainly can’t be English.

You immediately glock his disgruntled face, the alcohol cursing through your system emboldens you so you haphazardly shove him out of the way. You sigh loudly and obviously annoyed at his antics all while herding Sarah up the stairs.

Joel cannot believe that after dragging Sarah off, taking her to god knows where, letting her drink and god forbid smoke… you still have the audacity to behave so entitled.

You put Sarah in danger and don’t feel an ounce of remorse. Joel hates your guts, in his eyes you are an entitled little brat that desperately needs to be put in her place.

Even though Joel hates you, he at the same time cannot keep his head clear of dirty images of your young and tight body. He thinks about the pool day where you showed up in the tiniest bikini he could think of.

Prancing around all while he had to resist the urge to just tear it off. You knew he was looking and he knew that you enjoyed his eyes flitting all over your enticing figure.

The both of you were tethering on a dangerous line, that could cause big trouble. How would Sarah feel knowing this is happening behind her back.

You constantly antagonize him like that wearing short skirts and tight shirts with no bra because apparently it’s too warm for that. Running into him, pressing your perky tits against his bicep in passing, coincidentally bending over in front of him. Joel was quickly approaching a breaking point, his resolve crumbling more and more with each time that he had to tug at his throbbing length all while thinking about you.

Joel clearly underestimated how much you’d play him and how much better at it you are. At this rate you’ll win this game. He however has a plan, that might even after everything still save him the success.

Joel only has to wait for the right time to attack, catch you off guard and use that to his advantage.

He gets pulled from his thoughts when he hears something that confuses him, you are singing and it sounds beautiful.

Joel creeps up the stairs as quietly as possible to not alert either of you.

The closer he gets to Sarah's door the clearer it becomes. Joel pushes the bedroom door open by only a few inches to get a look at the situation and it makes his heart roar. You sit on the side of the bed we’re Sarah is nicely tucked in, your body facing Joel but your eyes locked on Sarah’s face. Softly singing a lullaby in a language foreign to him while gently stroking over her cheeks, smoothing the hair out of her face, almost like a mother would with her baby. Something Sarah never got to experience in childhood since her mother left so early on.

Joel realizes that despite the rough exterior you put up there’s more to you than just a cold hearted homewrecker, you care for Sarah, you take care of her and watch over her wherever you two run off to. Joel feels gratitude for someone he admittedly doesn’t know a whole lot about.

Joel has seen enough and retreats back downstairs.

When you stumble into the living room to bid your goodbyes Joel looks like he’s deep in thoughts.

So you announce “Sarah is sleeping, make sure she drinks lotssssssss of water when she wakes up and takes more aspirin if needed. I’m out.”

You turn to walk off when Joel gets up “Hey ya sure bout walkin home now? I can drive ya.” He offers but you decline “Nah it’s alright Mr. Miller I can protect myself, I’ve always done it. Besides, why do you suddenly care,huh?“ you sarcastically laugh while slipping out of the house.

When you’ve turned away from him the snarky smile falls right off your face.

Joel actually felt somewhat sorry that night for the way he treated you all those times before.

That lasted until you decided to smoke weed with Sarah in his lil work shed that was situated in the back of his garden.

Joel would’ve realized either way if not by the smells wafting up his nostrils the moment he entered the shed later in the evening, then surely by Sarah’s unstoppable giggling, her slow mumbled speech or by the food flash she got.

When the two of you begged him to let you sleep over he eagerly agreed. Chalk it up to the weed that numbs your brain that this quick reaction didn’t seem suspicious.

Joel knows you will find him, you’ll see the open back door and walk right into his trap. You never sleep the night through when you spend it over at the Millers, he can hear you getting up and wandering around the house. Sarah on the other hand has got to be blessed with an extremely deep sleep.

The thought of overpowering you makes him smile giddily into the darkness of the shed.

As usual you wake up in the middle of the night, ever since being a little child the sleeping became a struggle and nothing works except tiring yourself out.

You get up out of Sarah’s huge plush bed, slip out into the hallway and down the stairs. There you immediately catch the wide open back door leading to the garden. Odd, Mister Miller would never in a million years leave that open.

You walk up to the sliding doors and when you stand in the threshold staring into the dark backyard you see that the shed is left open too.

Out of stupid curiosity you decide to investigate, not the smartest to perhaps walk right into a burglar who has a weapon but you don’t really care.

So you pat the way across the cold grass, it tickles the sole of your bare feet and the fresh midnight breeze actually feels awfully pleasant on your heated skin. Halfway you stop and glance upward at the beautiful full moon shining down on you.

After taking a deep breath you continue onward towards the shed.

When you reach the opening of the shed there’s really nothing you can see or hear. So you step further into it, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

You feel like someone is watching you but you are unable to pinpoint where it’s coming from. It’s unsettling so you do something considerably stupid “Hello, hello is there anyone? Mister Miller are you in here?” You call out with a shaking voice.

No response.

A light flickering in the center of the room catches you off guard and now you can see him, the one that watched you.

Mr.Miller is sitting on a bar chair behind him is his working table, he leans his back against the edge of the table.

Your eyes immediately go to his slightly sweaty face -the Texas heat is unrelenting even in the middle of the night- he looks gorgeous illuminated by the tiny lamp glowing behind his shoulder on the cupboard. He’s smirking sinisterly at you.

You let your eyes wander over his broad shoulders that are clad in a green flannel. Inevitably your eyes slip down to his wide spread jeans covered thighs, they look so big and muscular.

He catches your staring and drops a hand on his thigh that slowly starts stroking up and down. Making you gulp audibly.

“M..M-..Mister M..Miller what are you doing here?” You stammer out.

“I was waitin for ya to come find me.” He huffs gruffly.

He continues “Close the door behind ya Lucky.”

You feel somewhat hypnotized by his slow calculated words as you, out of pure reflex, reach for the handle behind you.

As you shut the door, effectively trapping yourself with him he murmurs “That’s a good girl. Ya do know how to listen Lucky Girl.”

Hearing Joel call you a good girl in his signature dark molasses like voice had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Hmm ya like that baby, huh?” He inquires

“N..no, that would be fuckin weird.” You try sounding sincere but to no avail Joel has seen through you a long time ago.

“Lucky you are liar, a slut, a junkie..-“

You hiss “What did you just say?” While stepping closer to where he sits.

“Ya heard me right Lucky, you are a fuckin junkie, smoking weed in my shed with Sarah. Are ya outta your mind?” He throws back

“You gotta be kidding me, right? Big Bad Mr Miller is shitting his pants cuz of a bit of weed.” You wheeze.

“That’s enough.” He decides, getting up in one swift imposing movement. Suddenly he’s the one towering over you and he looks pissed.

He’s on you in the blink of an eye threading his hand through your hair grabbing a decent amount by which he pulls you with him.

“Ouch…ouch what the fuck let me go.” You huff while trying to get his hands out of your hair. But he doesn’t appreciate the disobedience and starts pulling even harder, which brings you to tears from the pain.

“Ohhh poor baby Lucky, look at those tears, ya not havin’ fun huh? That’s too bad darlin’ but I don’t care.”

He sits back down on the chair and in one swift motion pulls you over his thighs. Your belly rests on his crotch and your whole world is turned upside down.

“Clearly no one has ever taught ya a lesson, that’s why ya always behave like a bratty bitch.”

His free hand flits to your sleeping shorts and practically tears them off of you. At the ripping sound you yelp.

“Hmm look at that plump ass and those sweet lacy panties…ya always wear this slutty underwear when ya have a sleepover?” All while he’s groping you.

“What the hell are you doing Joel?”

“Aw is it not Mr.Miller anymore? Have we lost our manners lil girl? Or is there a better name for me, hmm?” He inquires.

For some reason you know exactly what he wants to hear but you're not inclined to give in. Yet.

“It’s fine baby ya don’t need to say it now, I’ll make you scream that goddamn name you fucking slut.” He pulls on your hair “Ya hear me bitch.?”

All you manage is a meak nod before he lets go off your face.

You can feel his warm and calloused hand on your cheek squeezing, stroking and poking. Then his hand is gone but not for long. You can’t even react. He's that fast in delivering the first smack to your behind.

“Ya gonna take what i give ya and behave cuz you wanna be a good girl, right? Ya wanna be my good girl,hmm?”

“Y..y-yes I do Mr.Miller.” You say defeated.

“Atta Girl. I think 10 should do it, for now, until ya feel like acting up again..”

He is unrelenting when it comes to punishing you, each time the impact is harder and more unexpected than the previous. You have to bite your lip in order to suppress a moan, even though it hurts it’s incredible. You can feel yourself becoming wet, with each time that his hand collides with your behind more slick gushes out of your pussy. At this point there must be a wet patch visible.

His bulge pressing against your stomach tells you how much this is affecting him too.

“Lucky I know ya try to hide it but I can smell how she’s leaking and if I check I’m sure I’ll find that cunt all sloppy for me, right?”

“Y..y-yes.”

“That’s what i thought.” And with that he continues the assault on your cheeks.

And it may be only ten but he makes them count, the blows are measured and hard. You guess your cheeks must be glowing at this point.

When he finally reaches 10 it feels like hours have passed since you decided to go wander around. He’s massaging your bruised ass. You finally feel like you’re getting a moment of peace but that couldn’t be further from the truth, because Joel threads his hand back into your hair and yanks you to face him.

He’s just staring at you, accessing you and then he kisses you.

It’s rough, teeth clashing, tongues swirling around, his hands urgently grabbing your face, your fingers tangled in his graying curls.

Though the kissing is over before it can escalate too far, Joel is once again pulling you by your hair, this time he’s more gentle, he pulls you off of his knees and pushes you down on them in the space between his spread thighs. You’re at eye level with his crotch now that looks painfully hard.

As you peek up at him through your lashes you muse “Looks like you got a problem, a big problem…Daddy. You want me to help you?” All while innocently tilting your head at him.

He grabs your face roughly “Shut up Lucky and put ya smart mouth to better use.”

“Don’t underestimate me Daddy. I’ll make you love me.” You say while giving him a cheeky wink.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

Npt: @toxicanonymity @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @joelsdagger @tonysopranosrobe @luxurychristmaspudding @mountainsandmayhem @moonlitbirdie @joelalorian @sawymredfox @thundermartini @ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @pedropeach @joelsgreys @joelstummy @ovaryacted @iamasaddie @wintrwinchestr @littlemisspascal

#Joel Miller #manspreading olympics #Joel Miller Fic #bfd!joel #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #joel miller age gap #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #kinda dark #My writing #Mina Writes

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you-remind-me-of-the-babe · 6 months ago

Text

Happy Wednesday friends! I’ve got 15 teaching days left and boy am I ready for summer vacation! 😎

I’m currently writing the fourth chapter of my time travel AU, Back and Back and Back. @cutestkilla and @emeryhall are graciously beta reading for me and thanks to their help, the first two chapters are shape up nicely. 🙏🏻

Here’s a little something from chapter 2 (no, chapter 1 is not posted yet, but I’ve already shared a good amount from it.) An older Simon is visiting ten year old Baz while he’s taking a breather from Malcolm and Daphne’s wedding:

I think about some of the comments I heard the guests making tonight. Discussions about babies and starting a family. Which feels like such an odd thing to say, because Father’s already got a family. Or at least part of one. That isn’t really starting is it?

I tell him a little of what I overheard tonight and he listens intently again without interrupting. He doesn’t give me sad pity eyes like so many other grown ups when they talk to me about things like dead mums. I like that about him. He treats me more normally than just about anyone else.

“Well,” he starts, “I don’t have any siblings myself, so I can’t really speak from experience. But I always thought it would be cool to have a little brother or sister.”

“Really?” I tilt my head, looking up at him.

“Mmm. I think it’d be nice to have someone to look after. Someone you’d always have in your corner. And they’d have you.”

Baby Baz owns my heart. As does an older Simon being nice to him ♥️

Tags/thanks/hello to @cutestkilla @emeryhall @artsyunderstudy @facewithoutheart @whatevertheweather @thewholelemon @raenestee @aristocratic-otter @valeffelees @ivelovedhimthroughworse @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @shrekgogurt @orange-peony @letraspal @nightimedreamersworld @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @rimeswithpurple @iamamythologicalcreature @prettygoododds @monbons @blackberrysummerblog @that-disabled-princess @best--dress @brendughh @drowninginships @lookinforavampire @mooncello @hushed-chorus

#back and back and back #my writing #carry on fanfiction #simon snow #baz pitch #snowbaz

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winterrrnight · 1 year ago

Note

prompt 21 and 23 with rafe pls🙏🏻

thank you for the request anon!! Can't believe it took me this long to write this, but here we finally have it! I hope you like this and it is up to your expectations <3

cupcakes

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe has a little fun with you as you are baking cupcakes

WARNINGS: fluffy fluff fluff!! + I do beta read my fics but sometimes I miss little errors so if you see any grammatical/spelling error(s) please ignore them :)

EDITH SPEAKS: so I've been getting so late with the celly requests!! The celly ended days ago and I have quite a few requests in my inbox at the moment. I hit a little rough patch and didn't have much time to work on my fics, but I'm doing okay and I'm here to continue writing!! I hope you all like this <3

PROMPTS REQUESTED: "put me down!" "I'm not putting you down." "Put. Me. Down." "You're enjoying it, I know you are." & "Am I your lockscreen?" "You weren't supposed to see that."

100 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation

Wheezie's birthday is coming up and you wanted to make cupcakes for her, just as a little gift. You had initially decided to make those on your own, but when you shared the idea with Rafe, he insisted he helps you.

Knowing the last thing he would do is help, it took a lot of convincing from his side to get you to say yes. You finally gave in and said yes, but you definitely weren't happy about it.

And now here you are, glaring at him as he stifles his laughter, because he successfully applied the cupcake batter to your nose and cheeks, putting a cherry on the top of your nose, making you look like a clown.

You aren't very sure how it happened; one second you're searching through your spice drawer to find the cinnamon powder and just as you turn around the next second, you're basically being attacked with food.

"RAFE!" You yell, the coldness of the batter on your cheeks causing a very small shiver to go down your spine.

He can't keep his laughter in, so he bursts out laughing, but you don't know why he's finding it all so amusing, especially your angry expression should be making him scared.

It takes a few moments for Rafe's laughter to calm down, but when it does, he gently removes all the batter from your face and also gives you the cherry to eat.

Another few minutes later you have your cupcake batter filled in your moulds and are ready to go in the oven.

"Could you set a timer for 20 minutes?" You say to Rafe, handing him your phone as you're busy keeping the cupcakes in the oven. He takes the phone from you and just as he turns it on, the lockscreen grabs his attention instantaneously.

It's a picture of him smiling as he's looking up at the sky. He has no idea you took this picture of him, but he does have to say, he looks so good in it.

"Am I your lockscreen?" He says, and you look up at him, suddenly remembering about it. You feel your cheeks heat up as you walk a little closer to him.

You both haven't been dating for long, it's barely been a complete two months, so even when you do the little things for each other, it tends to send little firecrackers in your stomach each time.

"You weren't supposed to see that," you say, your face still red as you try to grab your phone from Rafe's hands. But you fail miserably, as he starts to run away from you with your phone still in his hand, his giggling not stopping.

"Rafe!" You call out as you run behind him, trying to catch ahold of him but he's had a headstart and he's a good distance ahead of you. You've completely lost track of him and you're calling out his name, trying to figure out where he is, but you don't get any response back.

After a bit more of searching, you spot him on the balcony, his back towards you. You walk up to him and whisper, "boo!" in his ear. He turns around with the biggest grin on his face, and he gives you your phone back.

"I think that's pretty cute," he says, as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You smile into his chest, thinking about all the times you've stared at his picture on your lockscreen without realising how much time has passed.

Suddenly, he picks you up off your feet and you let out a scream at his actions, you being hoisted up on his shoulder now.

"Put me down!" You say, as he takes you both out of the balcony and back into the house.

"I'm not putting you down," he states.

"Put. Me. Down." You say, more sternly this time, but he doesn't listen to you.

"You're enjoying it, I know you are." He chuckles. Well, technically, he isn't wrong, but you would never admit that to his face because that would just only boost his ego a lot more.

When he reaches the living room, he finally puts you down on the couch, and gently gets on top of you, careful enough to not exert his complete body weight on you.

"Hey," he whispers, moving his face closer to yours, and nudging your nose with his.

"Hi," you giggle, feeling his hair brush your cheeks which creates a tickling sensation. He smiles, and presses his lips softly against yours. His lips move slowly, trying their best to show you how much you means to him. You sigh with satisfaction as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer.

You gently pull his entire body weight on you, allowing him to rest properly. His head rests on your chest and your fingers massage his scalp gently, causing his mind to gradually feel more sleepy.

You gently smile at the sight in front of you, and you move your fingers to brush out the hair falling in his eyes. He gently shifts at the movement, moving his face a little closer to yours.

"I'm not too heavy right?" He mumbles sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"Oh no baby, you could never be heavy," you whisper, resuming running your fingers through his hair. Very soon, your boy has drifted off in your arms.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @ragingsammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff

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defmaybe · 3 months ago

Note

When is "Mistake" going to be posted🙏🏻🙏🏻

Hello my first ask!!!

tl;dr, full version after keep reading: I vaulted the first version. But y’all seem to want this, so I’ll try to push it out as soon as possible. My best guarantee is in a year + a few shorter works on the way.

Into the main story, I was going to debut with Mistake lol. However, a few editors/beta readers gave feedback regarding the work as too demanding, which I do understand their concerns.

See, many aspects in the first version require readers’ enormous efforts to connect the dots, and by enormous, I mean it’s sometimes incomprehensible. Some of the parts were written while I was drowsy, sometimes drunk even. And to be fair, the work is currently too raw under my emotions.

Plus, I relied too much on Google Docs grammar assistant, and the work didn’t meet many of the grammatical rules. I thought my decent competency in English would help avoiding those pitfalls (it didn’t). So, that 15k of words are currently in the storage. I can’t assure if I’ll have the courage to open it again.

Still, with the unbelievable reception - currently 200+ notes for just a few words lol, more than one-third of Noona from the Bar, I’ve restarted the work mere hours ago. I’m keeping the core of it, pretty much - Minji angst then Haewon fluff + smut. And I’m very sure that it’s going to be of the same length as the first version.

Now, I want this to be as good as possible (half as good as @capslocked’s Departure would be an honor), so it’s going to take a lot of refinements. The first took around four months of on-and-off writing, so I’m not sure regarding the release date of the new one. But I can guarantee you one thing, I’ll definitely write it; it’s a very personal story that I’ve been aching to tell with the help of these two women. And starting now, I’m expecting a year at most, paralleled with a few more works along the way.

Again, thanks for being my first ask! It’s an honor.🙇🙇🙇🙇🙇

#def asks

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asimplearchivist · 7 months ago

Note

What’s your preferred way to write? On a PC, laptop, phone, in a hardcover notebook? Something else entirely?

Also, how do you organize worldbuilding, references, outlines, and other stuff for your projects?

Don’t mind me, just taking notes… 📝 👀

Hi, Sofie!😊Thank you for popping into my inbox!

I almost exclusively write on laptop/PC/iPad/even my phone when I get the chance. (When I was a waitress I was in my Dragon Age kick and would write on my tickets front and back so I wouldn’t “be on my phone” the whole time. I have the majority of the future scenes of The Smallest of Deeds transposed from those tickets, and I still have them in an envelope tucked away.) Otherwise I’m a tech/cloud enthusiast haha. I have enough blank notebooks that I want so very badly to get into the habit of actually using them, though…one day!🙏🏻

As far as my notes…they’re usually chaos lol. Most of the time they end up just being billeted lists at the start of my documents. Plot points and twists, character details, etc, all lined up so I can check them easily. I add them as I think of new things, like snippets of dialogue or scene ideas and the like.

I am currently in the process of transferring all of my Docs to a platform called Dabble, which is also cloud compatible, since Google decided to allow AI to delve into that space. I need to save a bunch of my old college/uni assignments into my Word Documents, but my PC is still out of commission for the time being so that process has been on hold for a while, unfortunately.

(I digress.) Dabble has character cast, plot grid, and worldbuilding notes features that help me to organize a lot more effectively, which is why I like using it so much. You can pull up your “notecards” within whatever chapter or scene you’re writing in at the time, and it’s enough of a blank slate that I don’t get overwhelmed with feeling like I have to fill everything out. (I swear I’m sponsored lol, but it really is nice if you can afford to pay its subscription fee. It just feels a lot more secure than Docs, runs more efficiently without lagging, and has features that allow for importation and exportation. It structures the document itself like a manuscript for easier transferral, and it has cloud syncing and allows for others to comment and access for beta reading and the like. I’d highly recommend checking it out!)

In the Morning Light (or, currently, That Poison, Reconciliation) is the first fic that I’ve really invested in organizing since I’ve had a bunch of different documents over the span of ten years keeping track of all my ideas. I’m exclusively writing it in Dabble rn.

Speaking of which…I’m a week late for an update, huh🥲I have some free time tonight, so I’ll try to work on the next chapter!

#fisara's answers #writing #fanfiction #my asks #ao3: the smallest of deeds #ao3: in the morning light

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titansarmy · 1 year ago

Note

It’s ongoing but invisible string by thinkingjasico sort of goes over the emotional infidelity bit of having a more-than-friends buddy in the underworld. The early chapters are a little rough because I don’t think they were beta’s but later chapters are! It’s got a really fun plot especially in the second half. kingburu’s ‘til we grow old series is also a delight because I love a good romance done in a plot + setting that’s interesting to me. Both sort of tackle the Will thing but I’d say invisible string does so more. There’s something so special about seeing typically selfless characters realize what they want and move to try and get that.

If you end up writing more about your concept I feel like it’ll break me but 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 sometimes that’s what life is about.

Best of luck with your thesis I’m sending all my extra energy to you!

- 💀

me running to ao3 to check it out 🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️🏃‍♂️ the EMOTIONAL INFIDELITY FO HAVING A MORE-THAN-FRIENDS BUDDY ???? jesus i am so sold.

i went to check kingburu's till we grow old and apparently i've read one of the parts, just not the whole thing because i didn't realise it was in parts :D

NO THATS EXACTLY THAT, selfless characters going and getting what they want !!! i respect the growth and i respect nico learning to let go of the dead but i also don't mind him being a little selfish again. i just. i think that would be the struggle. i am older and wiser now and i can let go but i don't want to. and for jason it'd be like going from 'others before me' to 'can i have this one thing? don't i deserve this ONE thing?'

maybe i will, maybe i will !! tbh i've been brain rotting about it for a while now and then i listened to ivy last night and was like OOOOh this is the song. so the brain rot is brain rotting again.

thank u thank u love <3

#++`i would give jason an elysium buddy. another hero that jason can relate to and who speaks to him about the selflessness of being a hero.#of the duty of the hero. of being dead from the very start. but that it's also not a crime to want to live.#the fates owe him so much actually #(on another note. kingburu said demisexual jason and i subscribed and clicked the notification button !! i've never been the same since)#asks #💀 tag

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fluffyprettykitty · 2 years ago

Note

If you’re still taking requests, can I please ask for you to write the prompt “breakfast in bed” with Billy Russo? (I just really love your writing, and I’m craving some Billy fluff… and if it turns into smut… well that’s more than okay too 😏♥️🙏🏻). Thank you!! 💞

Pairing: Billy Russo x female reader (no other specifications)

Word Count: 900 words

Outline: Billy has a unique way of waking you up.

Warnings: pet names (princess, baby), spooning, dry humping, vaginal penetrative sex, finger fucking, not beta read.

Author’s Note: Thank you so much for your kind words and this request, I kept it smutty and fluffy and I hope you'll like it and enjoy it!

P.S: dividers by @firefly-graphics // banners by @maysdigitalarts

Main Masterlist ・❥・Billy Russo Masterlist

NSFW UNDER THE CUT. MINORS DNI.

"Morning..."

Billy's sleepy voice murmurs against your ear, his hands are wrapped around your body holding you close all night. His voice was lower than his usual baritone and even heavier than usual considering how early it still is. You only hum in response still deep into your sleeping state. Billy kisses the back of your head softly squeezing you closer and your dreamy state stays intact.

"Hmm... Wonder what will wake you up..." He wonders looking at your smiling expression in your sleep, his hands now begin to roam your body trying to get a reaction from you but all you do is mumble and toss around. Billy gets a naughty idea inside his head but he chooses against seeing as how much he had worn out your body the previous night.

"Alright, fine fine. " He presses his chin on top of your head and shuts his eyes again. A little extra sleep never hurt anybody. About two hours later the morning now midday light was strong against the half-opened curtains making you slowly wake up to the very warm and very tight embrace of your lover. You try to reach with your hands to the bedside table to locate your phone and find out what time it was but your boyfriend's grip was too tight.

"Billy..." You tap his hands around your belly and wiggle your body to wake him up. "Wake up sleepyhead!"

His only response is only to rock you a little and press his head on you better. "Billy, I'm hungry.." you whine a little, hoping the primal need for breakfast would wake him up.

"Hmmm" he murmurs and that's when you start realizing why he keeps rocking you. You chuckle at the thought and begin to move your body against his, feeling his hard-on against your clothed ass.

The truth is Billy preferred sleeping naked but you were the type to get cold during the night so you were all dressed in pajamas. Billy continues moving his hips and you allow him better access by positioning yourself better.

"I'm hungry too," Billy whispers against your ear and one hand sneaks under your sweatpants. He got alarmed pretty quickly, waiting patiently for the moment he could have your body once again. With a quick movement, he pushes down your pants to get a bit of better access never breaking his tight grip.

"Let me have your body for breakfast, princess". You whimper at his words and the way his palm worked on your pussy now, making you wet.

"Yes, please! Have me." You whine out and in the next second Billy lines up his cock to your entrance, pushing inside the tip not giving you a lot of time to adjust. Your mouth breaks into a moan as Billy slowly begins to rut against you. He was always quick and efficient, he hated edging you, he liked you cumming again and again until you could pass out from too much pleasure. You let yourself pliant to his touch, allowing him to rut against your body as long as he needed. His moans match yours as he tells you how tight and warm you feel for him.

“So wet for me already, baby, were you dreaming about me?” His voice is hoarse against your ear as his thrusts become deeper but always sensual.

“Y-yes.” You whimper loving how full his cock made you feel. Honestly, you couldn’t remember what you saw in your sleep because all you knew was going for sleeping with Billy still panting above you to Billy’s cock once again inside you. He places a finger over your clit rubbing it harshly.

“I can’t get enough of you, princess. I gotta have your pussy all the time. I am so hungry for you, fuck.” He groans as the room is filled with the sounds of his cock slapping against your ass cheeks. This is how you wished you could wake up every day, the sheer pleasure and neediness one could feel in the early hours when the brain was still hazy and fuzzy.

“Please, Billy, please.” You whimper placing your hand over his trying to make him press his harder.

“Please what, darling? Use your words.”

“Please let me cum, fuck I’m so close.”

“Without me?” He chuckles and without allowing you time to reply he expertly flicks your clit in a way he knows will make you finish instantly. Moaning out his name your orgasm hits you, soaking his finger in your juices and with that you can feel him spill his seed inside you, warming you up and making you full. Once again.

“Fuck, princess, always taking me so well. Look at you. Nice and loaded.” You are still panting heavily trying to hold on to him while he is kissing your forehead softly.

“Now…for breakfast. I’m thinking pussy and then some ass.” He chuckles and you can’t help but feel your body react to his words.

“Oh Billy, I’m hungry.” You whine and try to move away from his tight grip.

“And I’m hungry too, princess. Someone’s gotta feed me.”

You roll your eyes and sigh. “Fine. But you’re taking me out for breakfast.”

“Sure if you can walk later.”

“Billy!”

But before you knew it, his face was buried deep between your legs eating you out.

for updates please follow @fluffyprettykittylibrary! my inbox and my requests are open :D

#billy russo #billy russo imagine #billy russo x y/n #billy x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x reader #selenewrites #punisher #the punisher #the punisher netflix #billy russo smut #billy russo fic #billy russo the punisher #nmcu

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of-house-atreides · 3 years ago

Text

Rosebud | Oberyn Martell x blind!OFC

Summary: Rosemary Tyrell was the little sister of the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and the Prince of Dorne's new obsession.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x blind!Tyrell!OFC

Words: 3198

A/N: I wrote this as a way to fight my writer's block. Also, please note that I am French so there might be some mistakes here and there.

-- EDITED

Thank you to @veronva for beta reading this and being so nice about it 🙏🏻

Oberyn Martell was a dangerous man.

Not dangerous as in he’d get you killed or kill you himself for the fun of it.

Dangerous as in he’ll take what he wants from you, show you a good time, even make you fall in love with him, and then leave you, dishonored, heart-broken and alone.

Rosemary Tyrell didn’t need her grandmother to tell her that. She had heard enough gossip to know exactly what kind of man Oberyn Martell was. And she never worried he would become a problem to her, as she never thought she would meet him, or ever have a conversation with him. In her world, it wasn’t a possibility.

It was easy for Rosemary to stay away from dangerous people, or people in general. People greeted her with the respect she was owed and went on their way. There were two reasons for that. One, Rosemary Tyrell was blind. Second, Rosemary Tyrell was cursed. And although it was just a rumor or a silly superstition no one would admit they believed, Rosemary Tyrell was a lady to avoid. And she would never complain about it.

But a few days after his arrival to the capital, Oberyn Martell grew curious about the youngest Tyrell girl. The future Queen’s sister. The freak as she had been described to him. She didn’t look like a freak. She was beautiful and kind from what he had observed. He would stare at her at dinner, and she wouldn’t know about it, not unless someone whispered in her ear to let her know. Someone like her big sister. But Margaery Tyrell was smarter than that. And she felt protective over her little sister. She wouldn’t tell her that the Prince of Dorne hadn’t been able to move his eyes away from her. Instead, she had given him a warning look. And he had smiled and nodded at the challenge.

The first time Rosemary met the Viper was in the garden where she was reading with her ladies. The two maids rose in alert as the Prince of Dorne entered the private garden they were hiding in.

“What’s happened?” Rosemary asked with a soft voice, sounding a bit annoyed at whoever may be interrupting.

Oberyn watched as she kept moving her fingers over the white pages of her book resting on her lap. He raised an eyebrow as her maids stayed quiet. He should have been announced by now, but he realized the ladies were intimidated by him, by his reputation.

“Well?” the Tyrell girl grew anxious. Her maids were her eyes, and she hated to be left in the dark.

“My lady, His Grace, Prince Oberyn of Dorne has just entered,” one of the maids spoke up.

Rosemary froze. She carefully put her book down on the bench before standing on her feet. Her maid immediately stepped forward and turned her towards him so that she could bow to him.

“Apologies, your Grace.”

“No need to apologize,” he said with a smirk as he gently took her hand and brought it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her skin. “You’re a rare flower to find.”

She frowned as she tilted her head on the side, her empty clear blue eyes moving from left to right, right to left, as she anxiously tried to understand the meaning of his strange words.

“I’ve been looking for you all morning,” he answered her silent question.

“You have, your Grace?”

“I have met your father, your sister, and even your delightful grandmother,” he said, and an amused smile formed on her face, a smile he returned, not that she could see it, but what he didn’t know was that she could hear it perfectly well, “you’re the last rose in this very sad garden that is the Red Keep I haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting.”

The corner of her lips twitched into a grin.

“That isn’t true, your Grace, my brother, I hear, is very delightful as well.”

“Indeed, but your thorns are much sharper than his.”

“My thorns?”

He chuckled. “I mean,” he said as he took a step closer and found himself inches from her, “you are much more interesting.”

She kept her head down, a habit, for sure, as she had no real reason to look up, but he wished she would keep her head high, if only to see her beautiful clear eyes.

“Leave us,” he instructed the maids, and, normally, they wouldn’t have considered it, as they weren’t his ladies, but he was a Prince, could they really refuse him?

Rosemary nodded as she could feel her ladies’ hesitation. She couldn’t refuse a Prince either. Or at least, she didn’t know how.

“I would have introduced myself last night,” he said as they were left alone, “but your sister seemed adamant I do not approach you.”

“And yet here you are,” she said before she could stop herself. “Your Grace,” she quickly added as she remembered who she was talking to.

“Do you wish me to leave?” he asked, and she could hear the amusement in his voice. At least she hadn’t offended him.

“It depends on what you want, your Grace.”

She took a step back as she felt like she couldn’t breathe with him standing so close to her.

“What do you think I want?”

“What everybody wants.”

“And what is that?”

“For me to tell your future.”

Oberyn laughed. “Yes, I’ve heard you could do that.”

“You were lied to, your Grace.”

“I do not mean to offend you, I have not come for parlor tricks.”

“Parlor tricks?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Do you know this lovely garden of yours is right below my chambers?”

“How would I know that, your Grace?” she said in that soft voice of hers he was becoming addicted to.

Her teasing him made him chuckle.

“I’ve watched you from my balcony.”

Her heart skipped a beat as the air was sucked out of her lungs. She hated to be stared at the most. It was her worst nightmares, that she could never stare back. It made her feel so vulnerable. That was why she avoided public places. As a member of House Tyrell, she couldn’t avoid fancy dinners and balls and now court, but she had her sister to look out for her in those moments. But right now, she was alone with the Prince of Dorne, and she could feel his eyes on her, burning her skin.

“You are most definitely the best view King’s Landing can offer.”

“Your Grace is too kind,” she whispered, hoping he would change the subject.

“I watch you move your fingers on the white pages of your book,” he said, and she heard him take a step, “I watch you put it on the side and stare at the ground you can’t see,” he continued and she froze as she heard him take yet another step, “I watch you smile and laugh at whatever gossip your maids are giggling about that day…” he finished, his voice turning into a whisper as he got closer.

She gulped as she felt his breath on her face and gasped as his hand found her waist.

“I am not used to yearning for the things I want, little rose,” he murmured as his lips grazed the skin of her cheek. “I’ve had to stay away from you for too long now, I have so many things I want to do with you… to you…”

“Your Grace…” she hiccupped.

“Are you afraid? Do not worry,” he said as he let her go and stepped back, “I am not used to forcing myself upon others either.”

She took a breath as he released her, the water in her eyes growing uncomfortable.

“I did not mean to scare you. I won’t make you do things you don’t want to.”

“Then… what is it that you want, your Grace?”

He thought about it for a short instant.

“Lunch, perhaps?”

“L-lunch?”

“Yes, the sun is high, and I am famished. And then, perhaps you could accompany me on a walk, I have many questions for you.”

“I’m afraid I am not that interesting, your Grace.”

“I disagree. You are the most interesting person in the Red Keep.”

“I really can’t read your future.”

Oberyn laughed. “But there is an interesting story behind that rumor, isn’t there?”

Rosemary thought about it. He was right. There was an interesting story behind it. And perhaps she should tell him, as only two things could come from it. Either he believed her and would think her a freak like everybody else and leave her alone, or he would not believe her and found her interesting no more and would go on his way to find another girl to occupy his mind. Either way, she would be free of the unwanted and overwhelming attention of the Prince of Dorne and could go back to her books and silent ladies.

“Very well, your Grace. Lunch sounds lovely.”

*****

The Prince of Dorne was a very funny man. Open, honest, kind… but he was also very forward and therefore very intimidating. But Rosemary hadn’t laughed so much in so long. It wasn’t usually so easy to make her laugh, but Oberyn gave it his best effort as he found her laugh to be one of the most beautiful sounds he had ever heard. It hadn’t been easy, at first, to get her to let her walls down. She was smart and knew better than to let a prince swoon her and ruin her like he could do. So, he had to show her that he wouldn’t.

“Dorne is as hot, if not hotter than King’s Landing, but the heat doesn’t stick to your sweating skin like it does here. The smell isn’t as horrid.”

“King’s Landing isn’t a pleasant place to be in.”

“Tell me, how does Highgarden compare?”

“Summers are hot, but the weather is more pleasant back home. The wind makes it bearable.”

“I was told there isn’t a greener green than at Highgarden.”

“Unfortunately, Your Grace, you’re asking the wrong person.”

“I suppose I am,” he nodded. “I was also told you weren’t born blind. Was that a lie as well?”

“No.”

“When did you lose your ability to see?”

“I was four years-old.”

“You were cursed.”

“That’s what people say.”

“By witches your father chased away from their forest.”

“They say that as well.”

“They also say you can see things before they happen.”

Rosemary took a deep breath, trying not to sigh in annoyance.

“They do say that.”

“Is that another lie?”

“I thought you weren’t interested in parlor tricks, your Grace.”

“I’m not. Now, tell me.”

This time, Rosemary sighed in annoyance.

“I have dreams, sometimes… nightmares… some do come true.”

“They took your sight away and gave you the sight in exchange.”

“I lost that trade.”

“Perhaps,” he said, then paused for a few seconds, “can you still remember?”

Rosemary gave a small sad smile. “What? The color of the sky?”

“What it’s like to see?”

“Yes, I can still remember. Because I can still see, in my dreams.”

“Do you know what you look like?”

“I do not.”

“Do you want me to tell you?”

She hesitated, her fingers playing nervously with a piece of bread that was left next to her empty plate.

“You can only tell me what you see.”

He put his hand over hers, taking the piece of bread and bringing it to her lips. The gesture startled and confused her, but she opened her mouth and let him insert the bread inside it.

“I see a beautiful bud who just needs a little more sun to grow into a gorgeous rose,” he said, his fingers caressing her cheek.

“And you would be the sun?” she said in a shaky whisper.

She couldn’t know but he was leaning towards her, his face right next to her, his eyes fixed on her lips. His fingers found her mouth once more and he ran his thumb over her lower lip.

“How smart you are,” he said in a low voice that cut her breath away. “Smart, beautiful rose…”

Each word sent chills down her spine as his breath fell on her face. He wondered if she would move back if she knew how close he was.

“Tell me, little rose… has anyone ever touched those lips before?”

She shook her head no.

“Has anyone ever kissed them?”

She shook her head no.

“Then I would be the first.”

He watched as her eyes moved aimlessly as she looked for the answer to his silent question. He saw how fear, anxiety and insecurity turned into excitement, but just as quickly turned into disappointment.

“My grandmother has warned me to stay away from men like you,” she said as she leaned back in her seat, her skin screaming at the loss of his touch.

“There are no men like me.”

“There are many men like you, your Grace. You take what you want then forget about it once you’re bored. I will not be played with like that.”

“I suppose you’re right,” he sighed. “Although I am sincere with you, and will always be, I will go back to Dorne, and you will go back to Highgarden, and we might never see each other again.”

“I will never see you, your Grace,” she reminded him with a soft whisper and a small smile.

“Do you wish to?” he asked as he leaned over once more to take her hands in his. “Do you wish to see me?” he asked again as he slowly brought her hands to his face.

“Your Grace, I…”

“Hush. Stand up.”

He gently pulled her off her chair and towards him, her small figure now trapped between his thighs, his fingers gentle around her wrists as he placed her hands on each side of his face.

“Feel me.”

She drew a shaky breath as she hesitantly moved her fingertips on his skin, discovering him slowly. But she couldn’t focus on him, on his strong features, as she was distracted by his touch, his own fingers sliding down her arms, finding her back, pulling her even closer to him. She realized how much taller he was than her as she was standing before him still sitting down on his chair and she still felt small.

His large hands wandered down her back and onto her waist, his fingers caressing the silk of her green dress, moving up dangerously high on her body.

“I like women, I like men. I like to have fun, I like sex. I won’t lie to you. You will never be the only one. There will always be Ellaria. But if we do this, when we do part, it will be to go home, and not because I grew bored of you, little rose. But you will give me something you can never get back, something you might need later in your life, something you might want to give to someone else in the future. But I will treasure it and I will treat you with respect. And for our future, no matter what happens, you will always have a friend in Dorne.”

“Your Grace…”

“Oberyn.”

Her fingers left his face to find his hands still on her waist. He brought her to his chest, and she gasped as his lips found her neck. She felt embarrassed as it was quite a hot day and pearls of sweats were falling down her skin.

“Your Grace…”

“Oberyn,” he whispered against her skin before placing another kiss on her skin.

“Your Grace…”

He wouldn’t let her finish her thought as he ran his tongue up her throat, wiping away the beads of sweats.

“Oberyn!” she squealed, horrified that he would do such a thing.

She felt him smile against her skin.

“There you go,” he praised before leaving a trail of kisses along her jaw. “Let’s be friends, eh?”

“Wh-what about Ellaria?”

“I think she would like you very much.”

She gripped at him, at his sleeve, as his lips slowly approached hers.

“What do you say, little rose. Will you be mine?”

“Yours, Oberyn? For how long?”

He groaned. “For as long as we can, little rose. Longer than that.”

A long sigh escaped her lips as she leaned against him. He kept kissing her face, her jaw, her chin, everywhere but her lips. He was dying to taste her, dying to touch her, dying to hear the words.

“Say yes. I promise I’ll take good care of you.”

“Yes,” she breathed out.

Yes, kiss me. Yes, touch me. Yes, take good care of me.

She needed to say it and he needed to hear it. She wouldn’t have to say it twice.

He stood from his seat, almost jumped out of it. His hands still on her waist, he easily lifted her off her feet and sat her down on the table. She gasped out of surprise, a slight panic rising within her, confused by what was happening.

“Ober-“

He cut her off, kissing his name off her lips. He devoured her entirely, his tall figure towering over hers, his shadow swallowing her completely. She didn’t resist him, didn’t push him away, but she didn’t kiss him back, she just let him be in charge, as if she had no control over this. He broke the kiss to see her face, to see her eyes, to try and see if she could handle it. Her eyes were white, the colors hiding in his darkness, moving as if searching for something. For him, perhaps, as she waited for a word, a gesture, an indication of what to do, of what to say.

“Let me help you, little rose,” he whispered as he took her hands and helped her find his face.

He brushed his nose against hers and took his time as he brought his lips to hers. That was all he did, press his lips against hers. Once, twice… again, and again. Until she moved, until she reached for him, until she pulled him to her and pushed her lips on his. Asking for more. Curious for more.

His lips moved soft against hers, his tongue asked for permission to take it further. It took her time to grant that permission, to be sure she wanted to go that far. But he was very persuasive. He could make her do anything, with a little work. Like make her forget to breathe, for example.

He released her first, sweet air entering her lungs with relief. Her heart felt like it was about to explode inside her chest, the world spinning around her, and perhaps because of the heat, she felt like fainting.

“Breathe, there will always be time later.”

She reached for him, his absence leaving her cold in the hellish heat of King’s Landing.

He trapped her chin between his fingers and made her look up so he could see her beautiful face, her warmed cheeks, her star-filled eyes… He leaned forward, capturing her lips with his one more time.

“Lunch went well, little rose. I wonder how dinner will go.”

#game of thrones #fanfiction #fanfic #got #oberyn martell #pedro pascal #oberyn x ofc #oberyn x oc #ofc #oc #imagine #reader #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #oberyn martell x ofc #oberyn martell x you #oberyn martell x oc

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queen-dahlia · 2 years ago

Text

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦

Pairing: Gilbert x Emma

❝Desiderium : an ardent desire or longing especially : a feeling of loss or grief for something lost.❞

A/N : This was inspired from a poem by @atelieredux! Many thanks for being my beta-reader for this fic! Thank you for taking the time to read and sharing your points of view 🙏🏻💖 Please check out her amazing works! 😇😇😇 Also thank you as well from a dear friend in FB who added some fuel even though she wanna kill me after reading this 😆

WARNINGS : tw: major character death (not Gilbert) tw: grief, tw: angst, tw: anxiety, tw: depression (of the suitor).

She was his first love, and he pledged to protect her, but he felt worthless now as he brought her body closer to him, the love of his life dying in his arms.

She's too weak to move her hand and wipe away his tears, nor even expressed how much she loved him. As her eyes slowly closed, she prayed that Gilbert would forgive her for leaving the world so soon, for not fulfilling the promises of marrying him in just a few months and growing old together. She wished that he would find his happiness again. Even if that happiness no longer includes her.

The prince sobs as he holds her lifeless body to him tightly, hands trembling as he kisses her forehead and finally, on her lips.

~~~~~

Family and friends mourned at her tomb while the prince remained in his chamber, staring at her portrait with uncontrollable tears streaming down his cheeks.

~~~~~

Before falling asleep, and even in his dreams, all he could see was her smiling face.

The places where they would usually go now suffocated him because they are filled with their memories and promises.

Oh, how he yearned for her. He longed for her warmth, lovely voice, and gentleness. He missed her embrace when he returned home.

He missed her telling him "Everything's going to be okay" whenever he was having a bad day. He missed the "I love you" before they went to bed and when they woke up.

~~~~~

Gilbert could never forget her, and every breath he took hurt.

She was the only one who accepted him and saw him as a human rather than a trampling beast. The only person who could always make him happy. The only woman who cared about him despite his cruel humanity. She was the only one who kept him sane and prevented him from conducting violent or murderous deeds.

She gave him love and hope. But now she was gone forever, abandoning him in this cruel world.

He may still be smiling as if nothing had occurred, but deep inside he was dying. His heart was constantly being torn apart, and his soul screamed in pain and misery. In the end, Gilbert became more ruthless and heartless than ever.

Days turned into years of agony. The prince always believed that this was his punishment for trampling on other people's hearts. For taking the lives of others before meeting her. For loving someone so pure as her.

~~~~~

His eyes fluttered open from the cold breeze. Gilbert sighed, wishing he could be with her in his dreams and not have to wake up. He stood up and brushed aside the dry leaves on his lover's grave.

When he saw her name again on her gravestone, memories of her flooded back into his head like a river. The way she spoke gently to him, how much she loved him, her charming smile, and how she looked him in the eyes with sincere affection.

He'd never felt so loved before. His experience was ethereal. Yes, it was a wonderful feeling. 'Love', on the other hand, was something he never wanted to experience again.

They died together, her physical life and his ungrateful heart. He believed in the next life and vowed to himself that he would always do the right thing for her.

Gilbert smiled as he kneeled in front of her grave... But it was a melancholy smile. Tears begin to fall from his crimson eye, and he whispered:

"Someday, somewhere, somehow... You and I will be together again..."

#ikemen prince #ikeprince #ikeprince gilbert #ikeprince angst #gilbert von obsidian #tw: death #tw: grief #tw: depression #tw: anxiety #ඞmine

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neptuneiris · 23 days ago

Text

Cruel Summer (06/10)

Golden Hour

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader

summary: A night on the yacht, an unexpected encounter and attitudes, as well as uncertainty will make reader finally make a decision about Aemond.

words: 12k

previous part • series masterlist

okay, i posted the chapter by accident, i wasn't supposed to but, well, things happen for a reason 😅

i want to thank @silverdragonfly my friend Lin for being my beta reader and giving me ideas on the first scene you will read, thank you bestie! and well, read, enjoy and let me know your opinions please! 🙏🏻

warnings: language, sexual content, smut, angst.

He starts with slow, wet kisses from your collarbone, moving up to your neck, your jaw and again on your lips. And that's a new feeling.

One you haven't experienced in a while and one you don't quite understand. But you realize you can do nothing to resist him as he wraps both arms around your waist, pulling you tight against him, reciprocating your kisses.

You run your hands over his hair as you feel his pelvis crash repeatedly against yours, making way for a heady wave of desire to grow inside you.

There is no space between you as you lose yourself in the touch and taste of his lips, his long, pale fingers lacing around your waist, as his palm moves down to your hip and slowly walks you backwards, cornering you against the edge of the bed.

Pulling away, his breath hitching, Aemond stares at you, his healthy eye completely darkened by the lust and unsettling desire you feel as well, enveloping him completely inside.

One of his hands goes dangerously low to one of your ass cheeks, which you don't mind, as he leaves another soft kiss on your neck.

“We can stop at any time,” he murmurs in his low, husky voice, leaving another kiss on your cheek.

“I don't want to stop,” you tell him in a whisper, unable to imagine denying him, much less at this moment.

He kisses your lips again in a more demanding and needy way, as he holds you in his arms and spins you both around where you are standing, for him to reach the edge of the bed and sit with you on his lap.

Instantly, you place both legs beside his hips, sitting right on top of him, with your arms around his neck and his arms around your waist, still kissing you.

When he again leaves kisses on your neck that make you sigh and melt into his arms, to again descend and leave a kiss with devotion on your shoulder, when then he brings one of his hands up and his fingers curl around the strap of your top.

You watch him with your eyes shining, your lips swollen and your breath hitching, as he returns your intense gaze over the valley of your breasts and at the same time plays with the strap in his fingers.

“May I touch you?”

Even the question seems silly to you under the circumstances, since of course you want him to touch you. But at the same time, it seems cute to you that he wants to make sure in spite of everything that you are okay, comfortable and giving him consent.

“Yes, please.”

A sweet plea that brings him almost to the brink, so without waiting any longer, he slowly and extremely desperately lowers both straps from your shoulders as you help him unhook your bra from behind your back.

And when your naked breasts are in his full view, completely at his disposal, he almost lets out a moan at seeing you this way for him and caresses them with his two large hands, kneading them with deep, intense movements, marking your skin as he brings his face towards them and leaves kisses around your nipples.

You squirm on top of him, moaning helplessly as you throw your head back, close your eyes and bite your lips in pleasure.

You arch your back towards him, giving your breasts more accessibility, while your fingers play with his hair and he pinches one of your nipples with his thumb and forefinger as he takes one into his mouth to taste it.

And it's your delicious moans caused by him, your breasts fitting perfectly in his hands, the taste of your skin and the way you squirm on top of him that starts to get hard, just below your core.

“Oh,” you sigh, feeling his hardness just below you.

You squeeze your legs a little tighter around his hips and begin to grind your pussy with deep, sensual movements against his cock.

He lets out a moan against one of your nipples, as you moan at the feel of his big hard cock along with his licking and caressing of your nipples. He lowers one of his hands to your ass cheek still covered by the fabric of your shorts to make you grind your pussy harder and deeper against him.

“Oh, Aemond,” you moan in pleasure, still moving your hips in circles and back and forth.

He growls into your breasts and lifts his gaze to you, leaving both of your nipples coated in his saliva, then moves the hand holding your breast up to your neck, pulling your face closer to his to kiss you.

You move a few seconds more on top of him to then remove your top and throw it to a part of the room without caring much.

“Let's get this off you too,” he murmurs hoarsely into your face with his gaze full of desire, touching the edge of your shorts.

You obey, raising your hips, as his hands unbutton and pull down your zipper, then raise one leg as you rest your hand on his shoulder to support you, then the other and finally toss your shorts away, only being left in already wet panties.

Embarrassment washes over you as, had you known, you would have chosen to wear nicer underwear.

But Aemond doesn't even pay attention to it as he kisses you again and brings both of his hands down to your ass cheeks, kneading them and marking your skin as you arch into him.

You moan as you again grind your hips against him and Aemond feels the ache in his cock being soothed a little with the friction you give him, but it still trembles and begs to be released to be attended properly.

“You're so fucking hot,” he murmurs against your lips, running his hands all over your body, exploring you, not managing to get enough of you.

You sigh and feel your quivering pussy clench tighter and ache deliciously as you feel Aemond slowly lower one of his hands down there. You moan and watch him pleadingly, needing him to touch you.

“Touch me, please, please,” you murmur against his lips, biting your bottom lip.

“Yeah? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, Aemond, please.”

“You want my fingers in your wet pussy?”

“Yes!” you exclaim desperately.

“Don't worry, baby. I'll give you exactly what you want,” he leaves a kiss on your lips, ”Everything you want.”

Your moans get stuck in your throat for a moment and your breath is cut short when finally, his fingers push aside the fabric of your panties and his whole hand takes your pussy.

“Oh, fuck,” he murmurs in delight, lowering his gaze and watching as his hand touches you.

You moan loudly and more as his fingers begin to stroke all over you, back and forth, drenching them in your juices, as if he's checking how very wet and tight you are.

“You're dripping. All this for me?”

You bite your lips and close your eyes tightly as his fingers make more precise and demanding movements, knowing exactly where to touch and caress you. And he watches in desire and pride at your expression, making his cock grow harder and ache harder.

“Oh yes, yes,” you sigh in desire and completely driven by pleasure, beginning to grind your hips against his hand.

Then you let out an even louder moan as you feel him slide a finger inside you.

“Oh fuck.”

You have never felt so desired seeing the look in his eyes, there is also the fact that he thinks about your pleasure as well and is not rushing things, this being exactly what you need.

Then he kisses you again, deep, never stopping his fingers from moving and then inserting a second finger into you, making you moan into his mouth, feeling the sensation of your orgasm coming too fast, totally surprising you.

Aemond also struggles against not cum right there and in his pants, as it's been a while for him too.

But the image of you, your naked body and feeling your walls tight around his fingers, soaked with your juices, inevitably make him think how good it will feel to be deep inside you.

Then he curves his fingers against your inner walls and your lips let out all your moans, helplessly, as he sets a rhythm and breathes hard just as you do.

"Oh God," you cry, "Yes, yes, like that," you moan.

His thumb touches your clit, pressing against the bundle of nerves and you cry out, grinding your hips more fervently against his hand.

"Are you going to come, baby?" he asks huskily, not missing any of your expressions.

"Yes," you whine.

"Yeah? Are you going to be a good girl and come on my fingers?"

"Yes, yes I will."

"Come. All on my fingers," he orders you.

He inserts a third finger and his thumb makes a precise pressure against your bud, stroking you for a few more moments the right way, harder and more demanding, the sound of your juices being heard with every movement.

He buries his face in your breasts again and kneads them with his free hand and mouth, grunting as he feels you squeeze his fingers harder.

Then you cry out and feel everything inside you explode, arching your back and closing your eyes tightly as you watch stars, moaning and stirring on top of him in pleasure and ecstasy.

You breathe hard and let out a few sighs, dropping all your weight on him, defeated, tired, trembling and with the delicious sensation all over your body.

Aemond doesn't take his hand away from you, he just smiles a little and leaves a kiss on the side of your head, while you rest your face between his shoulder and neck, catching your breath.

"Don't try to get comfortable now, baby. We've barely started."

You let out a sigh and nod, not thinking to end it all here anyway, then sit up with lazy movements to watch him, as he removes his hand from your still dripping pussy and bring his fingers to his mouth, tasting your taste and getting them clean.

You watch him with your parted lips, that simple image making your pussy tremble, and then Aemond smiles and brings his face closer to you.

"Delicious," he murmurs then kisses you, making you taste your own taste of his lips.

You tilt your head to the side, deepening the kiss, letting his tongue make it's way across your lips as his hands continue to caress your entire body. Then you drop your hand, slowly moving down his torso until you reach his shorts, where you stroke over the hard length of his cock.

He grunts against your lips, his clothes beginning to bother him and you as well, then breaks the kiss and watches him still with all the desire in your gaze.

"It doesn't seem fair that you're still fully clothed."

He lets out a low but deep chuckle, leaving one more kiss on your cheek.

"Let's change that."

You place both hands on the edge of his shirt and help him, lifting up the fabric, while he raises his arms and pulls it off, tossing it aside.

You bite your lips and run your hands down his naked torso, seeing his creamy white skin, besides how notified he is of his arms, especially his biceps. But what catches your attention the most, though, are his marked abs.

And he can't help but smile arrogantly, seeing how your gaze intensifies and notices how badly you want him. But he wants you too, now, unable to wait any longer after you collapsed into his fingers.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

He asks you, lifting one of his hand and tucking a strand behind your ear, wanting to make sure. And for a moment, you just watch him. To then place a small smile and nod.

"Of course I am," you assure him.

Then you place a hand on his cheek and kiss him, hugging him with your other arm.

"Good but we can stop any time, okay?" he tells you, leaving soft, tender kisses all over your face.

"Yes, I know," you assure him again, leaving another kiss on his lips.

He gets up with you in his arms, carrying you easily, then placing you gently on the bed, while you settle better in the middle of the huge matress and take off your panties, tossing them away.

"Spread your legs. Let me look at you."

You do as he tells you, letting him see your pussy glistening with your juices, as he positions himself in the middle of your legs, leaning on his knees. And he lets out a curse when he sees your naked pussy, ready for him.

Normally this would have made you feel embarrassed to be so exposed to him in this way, but surprisingly you don't feel that way, on the contrary, you feel more aroused and more desirable to him, feeling that you are in control somehow.

You bite your lips as he takes both hands to his belt and you hear the clink of metal as he undoes it.

You wish he'd be quicker as he takes his clothes off, but you don't mind too much either, since you're enjoying the show. And for a moment, you imagine him being able to use his belt on you, tying you up and making you completely at his mercy.

'Okay, maybe that's too much.'

Your mind tells you but the idea doesn't really displease you.

And then, as he unbuttons his shorts too, your breath hitches more as you realize what is really about to happen. You've never felt so excited and nervous at the same time, as you watch him take off his shorts and finally his black boxer.

You were already drooling over him when you saw his naked torso, but to finally see his naked pale cock, red-tipped, fully hard and standing, literally your mouth is watering for him and your pussy is throbbing and clenching, needing him, now.

But of course, he takes his time.

And he places a small smile on his lips at the sight of your expression and holds it proudly for a few seconds in his hand.

"Do you like what you see?" he asks you to continue removing his boxers.

"Stop teasing," you plead.

"I'm not teasing," he says amused.

"You know exactly what you're doing."

He lets out a soft, low chuckle again, to finally be completely naked as you and move closer to you, making room between your legs, placing both hands on either side of your head to lean in and kiss you.

"Be patient," he murmurs to kiss you again.

Then you watch as he reaches into the nightstand next to the bed and opens the drawer to get a condom.

He goes back to leaning on his knees and unwraps the wrapper with his hands, then begins to put it on, when a small hesitation appears in you as you watch him.

"You don't want me first..." you speak and he watches you intently, "You know."

You don't know why you're embarrassed to say it directly, but he understands what you mean and shakes his head, unconcerned about it, finishing putting it on.

"I won't last long if you suck me," he confesses to you, "I prefer the other way," he says with a half smile, leaning toward you again, "Maybe another time."

"Okay," you nod.

He kisses you again as he positions himself between your legs and directs his cock towards your pussy, lining up against you. Then you feel him begin to open you up, slow and deep, taking care not to hurt you and giving you time to get used to it.

Still, the most delicious moan escapes your lips and you close your eyes tight with pleasure as you feel him enter deep inside you, while he too grunts as he feels you squeeze him completely, feeling more of that wonderful sensation as he sinks inch by inch all of him inside you.

It’s delicious, intoxicating, nothing like you have ever experienced before and it fills you completely. You feel the tingling in your lower stomach and you want more, need more, all of him.

"Oh, fuck," Aemond moans against your lips, "Fuck, baby."

You watch with glistening eyes as he closes his eye with satisfaction and parts his lips, letting out a shuddering sigh, sinking the rest of him deep inside you.

You place both hands around his neck and kiss him, breathing just as hard as he does, while he doesn't move for a few seconds, afraid that if he starts to move now, he'll come.

"You feel so good. So fucking good," you murmur against his lips, "So hard. So deep inside me."

And your words don't help him concentrate to control himself, but he likes it. And he's desperate to finally move and make you come on his cock.

"You feel so good too," he murmurs against your lips, kissing you.

"Yes, baby? Do you like it?"

"I love it."

He finally begins to penetrate you slowly, moving back and forth, but too slowly, yet too deep, causing you both to let out a sigh and you cling to him, moaning, as he kisses your neck, your collarbone and again your nipples.

"Oh yes," you moan as you feel his tip touch exactly your spot, arching your back.

Aemond kisses you again, still not changing his pace, breathing hard and you bring your mouth close to his ear.

"I want you to fuck me hard."

He moans, quickening his pace a little, grinding his hips in a sensual and delicious way against you, making his cock inside you feel incredible and continue to touch your exact spot repeatedly, making you moan and cry out.

"Yeah? Do you want that?" he murmurs, kissing your cheek.

"Yes, please," you whimper.

He continues to set a slow but deep rhythm as he kisses her throat. He drags his tongue from her collarbone to your breasts, drawing a nipple into his mouth, sucking, kissing and tasting it until it is tender. While your arms are around his back, moaning in his ear.

Then Aemond lifts his gaze to watch you, bringing his face close to yours, breathing hard and quickens the pace. A rhythm that makes you lose your mind.

A long, low moan escapes your lips as you feel it, your eyes close and you wrap your legs around his waist, responding to his onslaught faster and deeper, writhing beneath him.

You squirm as pleasure ripples through every part of your body. And he continues to set that pace, with the room filling with the sounds of skin colliding against skin.

"Look at you. So good for me. So fucking hot."

His husky voice says into your face, turning you on more as you moan and cry out, feeling yourself intoxicated with the pleasure coursing through your veins.

You try to hold on to him as tight as you can, but you let yourself fall completely on the mattress, taking it all in and feeling so good. Aemond seeing this, slips one of his arms under your leg, holding it open to fuck the breath out of you, while you lie there, soaking wet for him and him alone.

"Oh yes, just like that," you moan.

"Fuck."

"Aemond," you whimper, "Please, please."

Even you don't know exactly what you are asking of him, as you continue to moan and speak incoherent things, while he continues to pound that point.

Then he hooks your feet on his shoulders and drags you by your thighs so he can penetrate you more easily. And you moan as he penetrates you up to the hilt and bite your lip in pleasure at being fucked like this, deliberate and relentless.

Aemond watches you in complete wonder, watching as your skin begins to sweat, as does he, as he feels his hair stick to his forehead from the heat. He also watches as your breasts bounce with each thrust, that scene not being able to turn him on any more.

And your moans, those sweet moans caused by him and only for him to hear, drive him crazy.

"Fuck," he hisses, stopping his onslaught and pulling his cock out of you.

This immediately gets your attention and you open your eyes, watching him in confusion. But it doesn't take him long to command you.

"Turn around," he tells you in his husky, low voice.

Pleasure and excitement again wash over you almost immediately and you do as he tells you, as he places both hands on your waist at the same time as you turn your back to him to position yourself just the way he wants you.

“Get this perfect ass up,” he orders you.

You feel a delicious wave all over your body and especially in your pussy as you listen to his words and do again as he says, leaving your ass up in the air, while the other half of your upper body is bent over, so that you are face down.

You feel him lean into you as he again lines up his cock against your pussy and kisses your back while his other hand caresses the skin of your waist. And when he enters you again, you sigh and clench the sheets beneath you tightly, biting your lips.

But this time, Aemond is done with the torture and as soon as again your walls squeeze him, he begins to move at a relentless pace, his thrusts long and hard.

And you stifle your moans by dragging a pillow towards you to bite it, afraid that someone out there will hear you. Which you doubt very much, honestly. But Aemond isn't having any of it.

"Don't do that," he orders you, leaning over and throwing the pillow away.

Then he holds the back of your neck and makes you sit up, just as he does, holding on to your knees, never letting go of penetrating you as his hand comes down to hold you by your neck while the other keeps it on your hip.

"I want to hear your every sweet sound, just for me," he murmurs in a deep voice in your ear.

You cry out and moan as he increases his pace and you hold onto his body, as one of your hands encircles his hand that is on your neck, moaning, completely lost in pleasure, as he holds you down and leaves marks as you writhe against him.

You bring your hand holding his back to his neck, as he takes the opportunity to rest his chin on your shoulder and kiss your neck, listening to his moans and grunts in your ear, feeling so delicious the way he is filling you and the way he holds your neck, marking you.

And you let yourself be carried away by the sensations he draws from you, your pulse racing with every breath and thrust.

And it feels so good, having his arms around you while he moves inside you.

"So hot. And so pretty," he murmurs into your neck, then gently nestles his teeth into your skin.

Cries continue to escape your lips with each lunge, as you feel the layer of sweat enveloping you both, feeling his burning skin against you.

"Aemond," you moan, "More."

The hand on his hip and the other on your neck slide down to cup each of your breasts, squeezing and kneading them possessively, as your back arches and you drop your head back on his shoulder, moaning and crying out in pleasure, as your feet curl in pleasure.

"Do you like it, baby?"

Aemond's voice sends a new shiver and you feel your body burn completely.

"Yes," you sigh.

"Are you going to cum?"

"Yes," you whimper.

"Are you going to cum all over my cock?"

"Yes, I want you to make me come all over your cock," you sigh.

You both sigh and then you feel him slide one of his hands down your belly to touch your clit between two fingers before picking up the pace again and hitting that spot inside you again.

You can barely keep the volume down as Aemond strokes you. And with each thrust, each kiss and each caress, your whole body tenses and your thighs begin to tremble.

You open your mouth to say something, but instead of words forming, only moans come out, as Aemond sensing this, as you are on the edge, moves his fingers against your swollen clit in a different way that makes you see stars and his thrust get faster and deeper.

Suddenly, release washed over you, your vision darkened as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you and a scream burst from your lips as you tilt your head back as you feel yourself cum for the second time.

Aemond holds you tightly as you lose yourself at a point where time and space stop.

But he doesn't stop there.

He feel your whole insides squeezing him deliciously and he grunts, continuing to pound you. He basically gives you no time to recover and you close your eyes, moaning, as he kisses you, swallowing your moans as you run your hands through his hair and down his back, seeking support for the way he is penetrating you.

Reaching his own release, he fucks you fast and hard, his cock burying deep inside you repeatedly.

You try to say something, but you can only utter a muffled moan. And then, his thrusts soon lose their rhythm and he moans loudly in your ear, buried deep inside you, cumming in the condom as he squeezes your breasts hard, letting out a couple more moans and sighs as he clings to you.

Again, time seems to stop as the two of you stand like this, together, catching your breath and recovering from your high.

With your heart racing and your breath coming in gasps, he leaves a soft kiss on your cheek and lets you go gently, pulling out its now flaccid and soft cock out of you carefully, both of you hissing at the movement.

Then you drop onto the bed face down defeated, tired and with that tingling between your legs. You close your eyes and breathe hard, trying to balance your heart rate, everything around you blurry and barely conscious.

Aemond watches you and also breathing hard, with his pulse racing, he lets out a long breath and takes off the condom filled with his cum, ties it and gets up from the bed to go to the bathroom for a moment, where he flushes it down the toilet and wipes the sweat from his skin.

Then he comes back to you, where you are still regaining consciousness, not moving and breathing more regularly.

He puts on his boxers, picks up his T-shirt and heads back to you with a clean towel in his hands. Then he leans toward you and leaves several kisses on your back and hair.

"You did so well," he praises in your ear, smiling softly.

Letting out a low, satisfied hum, you lazily turn your head to watch him and he brushes the messy hair away from your face as he watches you with a small smile on his lips then leans in and kisses you.

"Here. Let me help you. I need you to turn around," he says softly.

You do as he tells you, but you still feel very tired and watch as he gently wipes you down as a small smile appears on your lips.

"So you're the aftercare type?" you ask softly.

The small smile on his lips catches.

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

"Aftercare," you state, seeming tender to you.

He finishes cleaning you up and before he goes to the bathroom, he gives you his shirt to put on and you do, while he goes to the bathroom and you settle into bed, feeling so soft and so comfortable, assuming that it must be past one o'clock in the morning.

Then he comes back and makes his way over to you, but stands before lying down next to you and asking you a few questions.

"Are you okay?"

You nod, settling your head better into the pillow.

"Do you want some dinner before bed?"

"No, I'm already satisfied enough," you say with an amused little smile.

He smiles too and finally lies down next to you. You blink and start to feel sleepy and once he is next to you, he pull your body gently towards him, finding a comfortable position for both of you.

He turns off the lights and you wrap your arms around him, placing your head on his chest, as you feel him leave a loving kiss on your head and wrap both of his arms around your body as the sheets cover you both.

And shortly after, you both fall asleep in each other's embrace.

You feel like you are lying on a cloud.

The feeling is more than satisfying and this has probably been the best sleep you've had in years. It doesn't mean that you don't give credit to what happened last night, but the bed is what has the most to do with it.

You feel arms around your body and the warmth envelop you completely, as well as the rich detergent smell of the sheets, his masculine cologne and his faint cigarette scent.

You smile as you remember absolutely everything from last night and you roll over in your place so that you are face to face with him and no longer turn your back on him.

He doesn't even flinch at your movements and continues to sleep peacefully with his smooth face, still with his arms around you.

You study his face, so sculpted, detailed and perfect. A few strands of his hair fall on his forehead and you stroke it carefully so as not to wake him. You also study his eyelashes, his nose, his lips and his eye.

He decided not to remove his prosthesis and you have no problem with that.

So while his healthy eye is closed, the prostate eye is open, which is a little scary, but it doesn't really terrify or bother you, not at all, on the contrary, it makes you more attracted to him, somehow.

Even though the two of you slept together, there's still enough space in the bed. Which you're not used to, at all.

You've shared a bed with Alysanne for a year now, a small old bed but still functional. Or well... it always creaks and makes horrible sounds when the two of you lie down, which indicates that you'll have to get rid of it very soon.

So you've gotten used to always having to sleep cramped, with no space and uncomfortable. And that's why you slept so well tonight that you wish you could take this bed home.

Or you wish you could sleep here again with Aemond.

You continue to watch him, unable to help yourself, as memories of last night wash over you and a silly little smile appears on your lips as your cheeks heat up.

And you're both half-naked under the sheets, so it's even more impossible not to remember.

'Not to mention how very good it was.'

Yes, you admit it was the best sex you've had in a while. But it's not just that, it's the way he treated you, cared for you and was always looking out for you, wanting to treat you as you deserved and in the ideal way.

Honestly, you wouldn't have expected anything less from him and you loved every moment of it.

Again the small smile appears on your lips as an idea comes to your mind. So you lean into him, leave a soft kiss on his lips and very carefully, you release his grip on you and get out of bed.

The only thing you have on is his shirt, but you decide to take it off. As much as you want to keep it, he hasn't brought any more clothes so you decide to wash it for him.

You think this yacht must have a fully equipped laundry around here. You mean... the yacht has everything, right?

You put on your clothes from last night, put on your sandals, improve your appearance a bit and leave the room quietly. Then you go downstairs and head to the kitchen, still in awe of being in this place and everything around you.

You open the fridge and think about making breakfast for Aemond and yourself, wanting to surprise him.

Fortunately there are ingredients, not too many, but there are and with that you have enough to prepare something decent. It definitely won't be something too extravagant like what he's used to but you hope he likes your way of preparing food.

So you make coffee and start cooking scrambled eggs with bacon. And in the middle of getting everything ready, you hear the sound of doors sliding open.

You would have thought it was Aemond, but he's on the second floor and he doesn't really have to slide any doors, because there aren't any inside the yacht. The only doors that slide are the ones that lead to the decks, so...

Panic completely overtakes you and turning off the stove, you turn around with shock and horror in your eyes, wishing it really isn't what you're thinking.

But now you're out of luck.

You watch as Aegon Targaryen enters the yacht and closes the door again with nonchalant movements as he yawns and runs a hand over his face, looking completely sleepy.

And you freeze, watching in fear as he enters into the living room, still unaware of your presence. But when he finishes yawning, he looks around briefly and finally, his gaze falls on you.

'Fuck.'

He stops abruptly and his brow furrows, watching you intently and confused, while you don't speak because fear has you paralyzed and because you haven't the slightest idea what to do.

Aemond said that lately Aegon has not been coming here. But here he is, coming at the ideal moment.

'But then why did he have to come exactly on the day you and Aemond are here?'

Your mind is reproachful, annoyed, angry and panicked. You have no idea what to say, because nothing comes to your mind and that makes it all the worse because then he may know what you are really doing here.

And then both Aemond and you will be in big trouble. And this will be over before it even begins.

But then all your nervousness explodes as Aegon continues to stare at you in confusion and then takes cautious steps towards you, now with his accusing gaze.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?"

You try to speak, tell a convincing lie, justify yourself, whatever, but nothing comes to your mind as your nerves seem like they're going to kill you at any moment.

"Hum...

You look at him frightened, babbling, no concrete words coming from your lips. When suddenly, something in his gaze softens after watching you intently.

"Wait, I recognize you," he says suddenly.

'Oh, no.'

"You're the girl from the party, from Black Waves," he says thoughtfully and curiously, remembering, "Yeah, you were fighting with Floris," he says in recognition, "Along with that other girl who was with you."

Your nerves are creeping up on you more and more, your stomach churning and you feel like you're going to throw up at any moment.

"But what are you doing here?" he asks you again, looking confusedly at the breakfast you're preparing behind you, serious.

"I-I...

You think fast and hard, but the words get stuck in your throat and no coherent ideas come to mind.

When at that moment, some quick footsteps coming down the stairs calls the attention of both of you and a worried Aemond appears, because since he left the room, he heard Aegon's voice and immediately his alarms went off, especially when he woke up and you were not by his side.

And indeed here is his brother, who hadn't come in all these weeks and conveniently decides to come on the day you both are here.

And seeing him there, cornering you, clearly not knowing what to do, it annoys and pisses him off, but also makes him think fast.

As you focus on him for a moment, with memories flooding back of last night seeing him in his shorts and no shirt on. But you push those thoughts away as it's clearly not the time.

"What are you doing here?" he snap at his brother, confused.

"What am I doing here?" he points to himself incredulously, "I think the real question is, what is she doing here?" he points at you, confused.

You become smaller in your place, feeling the tension, as you watch Aemond worriedly and he looks back at you for a second. But then he sighs and walks towards his brother, his back to you.

"Aegon—

"I didn't want to be home."

He interrupt him.

"Dad gave me another one of his lovely speeches in the middle of breakfast. Mom didn't do anything, as usual and I decided to come here," he explains, almost nonchalantly "But I ran into her," he points at you again, placing a small crooked smile "She's the girl your girlfriend wanted to beat up at the party, right? You let her in here or what's going on?"

"She's only here because she came to clean up for some bucks."

He responds to him coldly, his tone neutral, as if he were simply telling an unimportant fact.

And you feel the impact of those words like an unexpected blow to your chest, as you feel your whole body immediately tense up.

You stare at him incredulously, your lips parted, even though he is turning his back on you, but that indifference hurts more than you dare admit, clearly not expecting that. And Aegon lets out a small laugh.

"Oh, okay," he nods slowly, amused, "Now I understand and remember you better," he tells you.

He looks at his brother and then at you with that look of amusement in his eyes.

"And clearly you need them," he tells you with a mocking and condescending tone, "I heard you pissed off Mr. Frey and he fired you. I also heard you threw food all over Cerelle and Cassandra," he lets out a laugh, shaking his head, "I would have paid to see that."

You feel shame and anger swirl in your chest, a mixture of humiliation and fury that makes you burn inside. The way Aegon laughs at your situation, as if you were just another joke in his life full of excess and luxury, only intensifies the lump in your throat.

And worst of all, Aemond still doesn't turn around, without correcting his brother or asking him to stop, as if he agrees with him. When he speaks again.

"Are you also going to pay her to make you breakfast?" he asks his brother, raising an eyebrow, amused.

"Extra cash," Aemond replies, serious, "And she was already leaving," he declares, turning to you.

The abruptness of his words hits you like cold water, watching him serious, hurt, confused, surprised, everything, as he returns you a glare and expectant look.

The Aemond in front of you is not the same Aemond who took you to meet his yacht, not the one who promised you to sail together, much less the Aemond with whom you spent the night.

All the warmth, the tenderness, him, is simply gone.

Aegon watches continuously between you and his brother, amused. But Aemond pays it no mind and instead, approaches you with firm steps, pulls out his wallet, then a couple of bills, then takes your hand with a nonchalance and places the money in your palm with a definitive gesture.

"You know where the exit is."

You stand still, staring at the money in your hand, as you feel a knot form in your stomach and a sharp, painful feeling grow in your chest.

You know what he is doing. Obviously this is an act for Aegon, a way to protect you both so that he doesn't suspect anything and it looks as simple as you came to do the cleaning.

After all, neither of you expected him to show up this morning, much less him see you here.

But Aemond treating you like this? With such rudeness and indifference? And give you this money, as a payment for what happened between the two of you last night?

That implication burns you inside.

"Excuse me," Aegon appears, subtly pulling you away from the stove so he can help himself to some of the breakfast you prepare, "It looks delicious and I'm starving. Thank you for your service, though."

Instantly you feel tears forming in your eyes, but you quickly control yourself. You don't want to cry, not here, not in front of them.

So you control the lump in your throat, ignore Aemond's gaze on you and get out of there, heading for the exit as you bite the inside of your cheek and try not to look too affected by this, but you can't help it.

And in the middle of leaving the yacht, you drop the money on one of the pieces of furniture, slide the doors and step out onto the deck, where the fresh ocean air hits you, but doesn't give you the relief you were hoping for.

You slide the doors again and walk away as fast as you can, hurt.

Aemond T.

You see on your phone screen, him calling you.

This must be the seventh time all day. But just like you've been doing for the past two days, you send him to voicemail. You don't really have the energy to talk to him, besides you know what he'll say, but it won't be enough for you.

He really hurt you because of the way he treated you. Which could have been different, without the humiliation and without the money. But he got carried away by Aegon.

However, you should have changed the name of his contact. Maybe something more subtle or more mysterious. A nickname that will not reveal that he is the Aemond Targaryen.

Since the next day, after taking a shower, you are brushing your damp hair, Alysanne is lying in bed, when suddenly she speaks.

"Can you explain to me what the hell Aemond Targaryen is doing calling you?"

'Oh, fuck.'

You quickly turn to look at her, surprised and panicked, at the same time she removes her headphones abruptly and sits up, with your phone in hand and her mouth open, staring at you in disbelief.

But you focus first on your phone, which you left on silent, a bad habit, and being next to Alysanne, of course the screen lighting up caught her attention.

And you quickly get up, heading toward her to grab your phone.

"It's nothing," you try to convince her, as if you don't know her.

"It's nothing?" she repeats incredulously, "Oh yeah, that Aemond Targaryen is calling you, it's nothing, yeah, sure," she says sarcastically.

"It's not him," you lie, having no idea how to avoid conversation and explanation.

"Since when did you become a liar, Y/N Blackwood? Because there's only one person named Aemond Targaryen in the entire town."

You let out a sigh, taking a seat next to her on the bed, phone in your lap and frustration in your gaze.

"And he certainly is very insistent," she say, watching how he is again calling you.

"I know," you say grumpily, staring at the screen.

"And you're not going to answer?"

"No," you say instantly, frowning.

And that alone makes Alysanne more confused.

"Okay, you want to explain to me what's going on?"

You sigh.

'Can you?'

You literally have no choice, as she's seen this and you know she'll freak out when you tell her about everything you've been keeping from her. Be that as it may, in any scenario it will end up being the same, hysterical Alysanne, so it's best to face it now.

So you brace yourself, swallow hard and watch her fearfully for a few moments. At least your aunt and uncle aren't home, so it will be easier to explain everything. Then you finally drop the bomb.

"I slept with him."

"You what!?"

Basically the scream bursts through the house, not being able to be more exaggerated but... you understand her. If she were saying this to you, you'd react the same way too, no doubt.

"Don't freak out," you tell her with your cheeks burning.

"Are you seriously telling me that!?" she yells back, getting out of bed and starting to pace around the room in disbelief.

"It's no big deal."

'Yeah, try to lie to yourself too girl.'

"It's not big deal!?" again she yells, incredulous.

You get her back in bed with you, wait for the adrenaline of surprise to wear off and talk to her about everything, from the beginning until today.

It's about time to get it off your chest, finally talk to someone about it. And it's not like you don't trust her, she's the person you trust the most but you didn't even know what was happening since the first time you and Aemond kissed.

You mean... after that he didn't look for you, then it was days until you saw each other on the pier and literally everything happened from one moment to the next.

But now this has happened.

And Alysanne, she's barely processing it all. As if she wasn't flirting with Cregan Stark himself. Although, well, there's a big difference between the Stark's and the Targaryen's, since the Targaryen's are of a bigger last name than everyone at Crown's.

"Okay, I don't know what surprises me more..." she finally says, "That you didn't tell me anything or the fact that you slept with Aemond fucking Targaryen."

"I didn't know where we stood," you say, "Let alone now with what just happened."

"The what?" she looks at you curiously, "Him giving you the best sex of your life or that he kicked you out like that in front of his brother?"

"Second thing," you mumble to her, grumpily.

"But you drove him crazy too, didn't you?" she looks at your phone, "He doesn't stop calling you."

You lower your gaze to your phone as well and his name pops up on the screen, again. You let out a frustrated sigh and decide to turn it off or you fear you'll be weak enough to finally answer his calls.

"He definitely wants to repeat the night," she says cheekily, with a teasing smile.

"No, stop, don't say those things," you tell her frustrated, "It's not going to happen again."

She looks at you confused.

"Why not?"

"Why not?" you repeat, incredulous, "I have to tell you again what happened?"

She lets out a huge groan of frustration, rolling her eyes and looking at you seriously.

"Ugh, okay, tell me this, what did you expect?"

She inquires you and by her tone of voice, she definitely gets your attention, as this is another one of her scoldings or advice according to her.

"He's a rich guy, the richest guy in town, a fucking Targaryen, with a lot of expectations on him and with a girlfriend," she tells you seriously and firmly, "So how was he going to act normal that morning when Aegon showed up unexpectedly on the yacht, huh?"

'Well, when she says it like that...'

You think, placing a grimace and looking towards a specific point, getting lost in your mind for a moment.

It literally all happened overnight. And when the two of you talked on the pier, you didn't really talk about all that it would entail to have whatever the two of you have, secretly.

You didn't talk about the real consequences, how exactly you will take care of each other or even the expiration date. Because this, it can't be forever. He and you can't really end up together.

So what are the two of you going to do? What should you expect? You know it's a really bad idea, but is it even worth it?

Maybe Aemond acted unexpectedly with you in front of Aegon as he thought was right at the moment. But... it really caught you off guard and made you feel really bad after the night the two of you spent together.

You let out a sigh again for the eleventh time and look at Alysanne wearily and hopelessly.

"I don't know," you say frustrated, "I just didn't expect him to be so mean."

She gives you a look of understanding.

"Yeah, I would have felt bad too," she agrees, "But I'm sure he didn't mean to be that way with you and he must have been so surprised to see his brother like you that he just freaked out and didn't really know how to act."

You bite the inside of your cheek, beginning to feel her words really start to have an effect on you as they make sense. While she watches you with understanding and comprehension at all times.

"Talk to him," she advises you, "Answer his calls. I'm sure he'll tell you exactly the same thing and apologize."

"Is that what you would do if you were me?" you ask curious and attentive.

"Yeah," she shrugs.

"But he has a girlfriend," you say in exasperation, "And it's not just any girl, it's Floris, which makes it all even worse. He needs to be with her for who knows how much longer to please his father. And even if he wasn't with her or anyone else, the two of us can't be together."

"Look, from what you told me, he doesn't want to be with her and he doesn't even care about her, much less now that she's been revealing her true colors. And it's not even a reciprocal relationship," she tells you, "So, in my opinion, you're not destroying or getting into anything between them."

"Not even though it's clear to everyone in town that they are dating?"

"What does that matter? Those inside the relationship, those around them, and you and I know the truth. It's not a real relationship."

"Yes but if Floris or anyone in his family finds out about us, there will be a big scandal," you say hopelessly, "Whether the relationship is real or not, the two of them have a commitment, of sorts," you explain, "And if we decide to risk it, it will only be temporary. It's not like I'm going to marry him or anything. We'll both have to end it all, if not for his family, then because I'm not on his level and... " you let out a long breath, frustrated, "Is it even worth it?"

She looks at you empathetically, seeing the internal conflict consuming you. Meanwhile both remain silent, she giving you time to process your own thoughts, as you know you are right.

"Well... there's always the possibility that things won't work out," she admits to you in a soft tone, "But there's also the possibility that they will. And I don't know, maybe Aemond will eventually reveal himself against his father," she says, in probability, "Don't you think it would be worth finding out?"

“But… what if it ends badly?” you ask in a trembling voice, doubt rooted deep in your chest, “What if I ended up with a broken heart?”

She sighs, taking a moment before answering.

“There's always that possibility, yes,” she nods sincerely, ”But that's the thing about everything that really matters, isn't it? Nothing is guaranteed. Things can go wrong…or they can go right. That's the risk you take when you have feelings for someone.”

You fold your arms, trying to control the trembling in your hands, looking down at the floor and feeling the lump in your throat.

“I don't know if I can take it. If it ends badly, if he decides to stay with Floris or if his family drags me into the middle of it all, what will I do? I-I… I'm not like them.”

She watches you calmly, her gaze never leaving you.

“I know,” she tells you softly. “But it's precisely because you're not like them that you have something to offer that Floris will never be able to give him. Maybe they have power, money and position, but you have what's real. And Aemond sees that, otherwise he wouldn't be willing to risk everything and eventually fight for you.”

The idea of Aemond fighting for you, seems impossible to you, but at the same time, it's something you secretly wish for.

“What if he doesn't?” you ask fearfully. “What if he's not willing to fight? Or he can't?”

“Then you'll know you gave it your best shot,” she answers you, firm.

“And that's it?” you question, with frustration and disbelief, "Risking ourselves for something temporary?” you look at her blankly, "I… I just don't want it all to end in disaster," you confess, feeling the vulnerability fill you completely, "And I don't want to end up heartbroken," you mutter, under your breath.

She studies you for a moment, then shakes her head.

“Maybe it's temporary. Maybe it'll only last for a while. But sometimes, when the temporary things that do us good and are the things we long to experience, are the things that mark us forever.”

Her words settle in your chest, making you think, consider. But you also watch her slightly confused.

“Since when did you become so philosophical?”

She rolls her eyes.

“That's not even philosophy,” she says grumpily and you let out a small laugh, ”And I'm just saying… what would you rather? Hold on to the urge and never know what might have been? Or live it intensely, even if it's just for a moment?”

You bite your inner cheek, thoughtful and unsure, uncertainty weighing on you, as you remain silent for a few moments.

“What matters is what you and Aemond feel. Not what anyone else thinks or feels about it,” she tells you softly afterwards, ”And sometimes it's worth risking everything to feel that, even if it's just once. So just… listen to what he has to say.”

You sigh deeply, still with uncertainty, fear, insecurity and the word temporary repeating over and over in your mind.

“I don't think it's a good idea,” you say in a defeated mumble.

“But—

“And I don't want to talk about it anymore, please,” you interrupt.

Alysanne watches you in disappointment, thinking that she might actually convince you, since she wants you to really live, take risks, fall in love, experiment, because she really sees how much you want him. But the fear is bigger and she understands that part too.

So she has no choice but to let out a defeated sigh.

“Okay,’ she finally says, "Then let's change the subject—

“I'm not going to any party at Crown's,” you interrupt and warn her at the same time, before she starts talking.

“No,” she says offended, ”I wasn't going to tell you that.”

“So?”

“The party is here, Black Waves, with the guys, just us,” she informs you, “Today, before it gets dark.”

You grimace, considering.

“Come on, you clearly need a distraction,” she tells you, insistent, “Let alone with the fact that you've decided to forget about the guy who gave you the best sex of your life.”

“I didn't even say that,” you say embarrassed.

“You don't need to say it. I can tell,” she tells you playfully.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Come on, tell me, how good was it? Was it rough or gentle? Is it well done or normal or what?”

“Alysanne!”

“What? Don't be ridiculous, don't get shy with me. Besides, you owe me for not letting me know you weren't coming to sleep and for covering for you with my parents.”

You open your eyes wide, watching her worriedly, since you forgot that small but important detail.

“Shit. What did you tell them?”

“Just that you went to spend the night with a friend. And I actually thought you did, but now I know what you were really doing.”

You let out a sigh.

“I'm sorry.”

“I'll forgive you when you tell me all the details.”

“Everything but that.”

“Nope, details or nothing.”

You spend all morning and part of the afternoon avoiding her questions, until she finally stops bothering you by the time it's time to leave.

So you both head to the beach with a couple of hours until dark, specifically towards the place where you do your meetings with the guys.

And you can tell the big difference after you've spent so much time going to Crowns beaches, that you realize you actually missed coming here, to the beach on the side of your town, regardless.

Soon enough, the guys arrive on the spot as well, making their animated scandal and telling their usual bad jokes.

And you guys do the usual, bring marshmallows, a few beers, snacks, Daniel's guitar and light the bonfire. Everyone asks for Cregan and Chase says he didn't respond to his texts, so he may or may not come later.

Later, with the sun beginning to descend, painting the sky with shades of gold and orange that reflect off the ocean as if it were a liquid mirror, you decide to turn away from your friends for a moment and sit on the sand, admiring the sunset.

With your knees hugging your chest, listening to the waves crashing on the shore and the soft wind playing with your hair making everything seem lighter. More real.

And you feel at peace, almost disconnected from the world around you, allowing you to stop thinking even for a little while.

The beach on your side of town, far from the opulence and glitter of Crowns, has a simplicity and charm that you had missed, as well as the sound of your friends' laughter echoing behind you.

In the distance, you hear their animated chatter, their voices mixing together with Alysanne's, who can't stop laughing. But you decide not to join them just yet, needing this moment alone and lose yourself in the sunset, watching the sky transform.

And they give you that, already being used to someone in the group sometimes stepping away for a moment, to reflect, without disturbing you and giving you your space, which makes you feel very relieved and lucky.

When suddenly, in the middle of watching the sunset, you hear footsteps behind you approaching.

At first, you don't flinch, thinking maybe it's one of the guys or Alysanne deciding to interrupt you for some special reason. But when you raise your gaze, you immediately freeze.

Aemond is standing in front of you, his tall, imposing figure, watching you attentively and cautiously, while you stare at him confused and surprised, your lips parting, beginning to feel your heart beating too fast.

And he closes the distance between the two of you as he removes the cap from his jacket in a casual motion, revealing his silver hair.

“What are you doing here?” you ask him, confusion evident in your voice.

Aemond looks at you with that characteristic calmness of his, his eyes fixed on yours, before responding with a soft tone. But there is also that insecurity in him.

“I spoke with Cregan and came with him.”

Your surprise does not decrease, as you look over to where your friends are and sure enough, Cregan is here, smiling and talking with his enthusiastic and animated attitude with the guys.

And Alysanne, from her position near the bonfire, throws you excited and curious glances, as if she were watching a love movie, while the guys seem very confused by Aemond's presence.

Although you don't doubt that she will soon calm their anxiety to know what the hell is going on with him and you without giving too many details. Or at least, without giving the important details.

And you look back at Aemond, still processing the fact that he is actually here, in this space of yours, so far away from Crowns and all that it represented.

“May I sit?” he asks you, his voice low and with that wariness he rarely shows.

And you still not knowing exactly how to feel, what to think or what to do, but you nod slowly.

He takes a seat next to you on the sand, close enough for you to feel his presence, but leaving a space between you both, respecting the invisible barrier that seems to have formed since the last time you saw each other.

And the silence that follows between the two of you is not awkward, but full of unspoken words, of questions and doubts floating in the air, waiting to be asked. And you both look towards the horizon, watching the sky between orange and yellow, while the ocean breeze gently caresses your faces.

Then Aemond lets out a sigh next to you, playing with his fingers, thinking very carefully about what he's going to say before he speaks.

“I'm sorry. I know you're upset and hurt for what I did.”

You watch him out of the corner of your eye for a second, still surprised that he's actually here.

You always thought your encounters with him would be at Crown's or even Sunset's Pier, but never here. It feels strange to see him in these places. With Cregan it was strange but with him… it's even stranger.

“I understand you don't want to talk to me and I know what I did and said was wrong,” he says later, ”You didn't deserve that.”

The lump in your throat tightens and you press your lips together, remembering the moment when he gave you the money so coldly, as if what you had shared the night before had meant nothing.

His gaze so distant and the way he treated you in front of Aegon, it really hurt you.

“And I'm not trying to justify myself, I know it was mean and disgusting,” he sighs, “But I just want you to know that when I saw Aegon… I don't know, I freaked out and did what I thought would be most convincing so he wouldn't suspect anything because I know him and he knows me so well too.”

'Just what Alysanne told you.'

You think as you process his words, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness stir inside you.

You know that what he says makes sense, that he was trying to protect you both, but that doesn't take away from the fact that it hurt you to have been treated that way.

“I should have handled it better,” he admits, his voice almost a whisper. “The last thing I wanted was for you to leave like that.”

Then you notice how he shifts position, looking directly at you, wanting you to look right back at him. But you can't. If you do… you won't be able to say everything you want to say, you'll easily forgive him and fall back into his arms like it's nothing.

“And I'm really sorry,” he tells you with regret and sincerity in his tone, vulnerable.

The silence between the two of you stretches for a few moments, only hearing the sound of the wind, the waves and your friends behind you both at the bonfire.

You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, waiting for an answer, his apology hanging in the air like a silent plea. And you understand what he's trying to say, but the pain is still fresh.

And finally, you let out a long breath and open your mouth to speak.

“I don't think it's a good idea for us to do this.”

That wasn't what he expected to hear from you, but still, your words hit him, catch his attention and he frowns, watching you, understanding what you mean right away, definitely not expecting that.

“What?” he says in bewilderment.

You let out a long sigh and lower your gaze for a moment, having no idea how to handle this, but you need to say it. Then you look him straight in the eye for the first time, seeing the confusion in his entire gaze.

And before you can say anything else, he speaks again.

“You don't want to see me anymore?”

“I don't know if that's a good idea,” you repeat, trying to be as clear as possible.

“Why not?” he insists, his frown now more intense.

You bite your inner cheek, searching for the right words, before letting out a frustrated sigh.

“How are we supposed to do this, Aemond?”

“This?”

“We never talked about the consequences, how we would have to act, you know…” you mutter, ”All in secret.”

He is silent for a moment, watching you with an intensity that makes it difficult for you to hold his gaze. More so as you briefly recall the night you both spent.

And when you look away, he finally lets out a sigh, runs a hand through his hair, clearly searching for the right words.

“I know it's going to be hard,” he admits, his tone soft, "Seeing each other in secret and acting in public like we don't know each other," he says, ”I know it's not ideal, but… I'm willing to do it.”

You look back at him, watching him confused.

“And when we get caught?” you ask, ”We both know what will happen. There will be a big scandal. We'll both be in a lot of trouble. You not only with your family, but also with Floris' family and all of Crown's, while I…” you shake your head slightly, ”The whole town will talk bad things about me.”

He nods slowly, unable to deny it or tell you that things won't be like that, because it's the truth.

Clearly he knows what you mean, the weight of the situation is undeniable and although he is willing to take the risk, he knows it won't be as simple as that.

His dad, his grandfather, Floris, his family, all of Crown's will come down on him, while you will not be able to avoid the stares, the gossip, the despise from all of Crown's and the repercussions for getting involved with him in this way.

He could easily ignore them and not deal with those people. He is sure that his mom would protect him along with his money, power and status. But you… you don't have that ease and protection against Crown's.

He can protect you, of course, but it won't be easy. His parents won't let him and he'd have to act underwater.

“I know,” he murmurs, moving a little closer towards you, his eyes fixed on your gaze, ”I know things could get complicated if we get caught. But I'm willing to do it for the only person who's made me feel something real in a very, very long time.”

He moves closer, his gaze intense and insistent, but his movements cautious, as if he's afraid of scaring you or crossing an invisible boundary. You can feel the warmth of his body next to yours, but the weight of his words is what affects you most.

“Would you do it? Would you risk it like that?”

He nods, without hesitation.

“I'm not saying it will be easy,” he acknowledges, "But…" he sighs, frustrated, "Look, what I feel when I'm with you… it's bigger than all that," he confesses to you, ”And for the first time in my life, I want something for me, not for them. Not for my dad or his team because of the image they want me to maintain. And I-I… I don't want to give this up.”

You stare at him, saying nothing for a few moments, when he stirs where he sits and looks at you slightly concerned, still seeing the hesitation in your gaze.

“I understand that you don't want to do this,” he says then, knowingly, “Because I know you don't deserve this. To be hidden and not be shown off like you really deserve it. I would never force you to do something you don't really want to do, but… I just want you to know that if you decide to be with me, that way… I'll do whatever it takes to protect you.”

Those words, though well-intentioned, only made the knot in your stomach tighten more. You know what protecting you entails, and what he really may or may not do.

“Protect me?” you repeat, disbelief in your voice, ”Aemond… you can't protect me from everything. You can't stop the gossip, you can't change what people will say or think about me.”

He sighs deeply, as if searching for the right words to convince you.

“I know I can't protect you from the words of others,” he acknowledges, ”But I will stand by you. I'll give you stability and I'm not going to let you face it alone. And whatever happens, we'll face it together.”

For a moment, the weight of what he's saying feels real, but still the doubts linger in your mind. There are too many factors working against you, too many things that can go wrong, and you don't understand what he means by stability.

But you ask another question that torments your mind more.

“And Floris?”

Aemond averts his gaze to the horizon, his jaw tense.

“The situation with Floris… you know how it is. First my dad and her dad have to partner up. I have no doubt that will happen soon and until it does, I can't break up with her. If I break up with her before… my dad will explode and so will my whole family.”

You feel the weight of those words, the web of expectations and responsibilities that trap him. To be used in that way, purely for convenience.

“And by the time my dad no longer needs me except to make me his heir to the company and the partnership with Borros is complete, I will finally be able to stand up to him and make my own decisions.”

But you can't shake the doubt, the uncertainty of a future that may not turn out as he hopes.

“What if you can't? What if things get complicated and you can't fight your dad? What if in the end we can't be together?”

“I'll still protect you,” he insists, his voice soft but firm, ”It will still have been worth it. But I will fight for you. For my freedom. And… I don't know,” his voice trembles slightly, ”But I want to be with you. I want to try.”

The wind blows gently between you, and though the weight of his words is heavy, you know there is still no easy solution. But something in his tone, in his gaze, tells you that he is not willing to back down without a fight.

You also feel the weight of what it means to be with him, secretly, but somehow ironically, in freedom. A freedom beyond the reach of his family's and Crowns' expectations.

Because that's what you have to offer him, the real and the authentic. A chance to be himself, to really live, without masks or obligations, to express himself freely.

You give him what it is to be heard and to be supported and accepted, not for what he has or owns, but for who he is. You offer him a refuge in a world that constantly demands more and more from him.

And what he offers you is protection, a protector, a part of him that no one has ever seen, he gives you stability in the midst of the shortages you have experienced all your life. But he also gives you love, affection, someone to lean on, a companion.

And together, you experiment, spend time together, get to know each other, fall in love, and open doors for each other to get to know each other's world.

And the idea, despite the risks and the consequences… you like it. It calls you. You want to live it with him. So you know that if you cross that line now and tell him yes, there will be no turning back.

You remain silent, watching the horizon as the sun descends lower and lower, dyeing the sky with golden colors. Until you sigh, turning your gaze back to him.

“It won't be easy,” you say, decision in mind.

Aemond nods, understanding the seriousness of your words.

“I know,” he says softly, ”I just want it to be worth it.”

You nod slowly, watching him with a soft gaze, then you finish closing the barely distance between the two of you and lean into him, resting your head on his chin and your back on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a moment, inhaling his cologne and the scent of detergent on his clothes, comforting you.

And he welcomes you into his arms, leaving a tender and soft kiss on your head, to descend to your cheek and leave another kiss on your skin, making you shiver and feel that tingle in your stomach, and then he embraces you more firmly.

“Don't ever treat me like you did with Aegon, ever again,” you say afterwards, in a soft, low tone, ”It was humiliating.”

He nods though you cannot see him and as he has his arm around your shoulders, he lifts his hand, places it on your chin gently and makes you turn your face towards him to look at him, where you see all the sincerity and regret in his gaze.

“I won't do it again. I promise.”

And he leans towards you, sealing his promise with a kiss that you reciprocate instantly, since you missed him and you were wishing all this time to kiss him again and feel his touch, even if it was for the last time.

And he too, missed you so much, so much that it hurt and frustrated him not to see you again because of what happened.

But here you both are, sitting on the sand, hugging and leaning against each other, looking at the horizon and the sky in that magnificent view of colors in silence, admiring the sunset in it's golden hour.

series taglist:

@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines @valyrianflower

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond fanfiction #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen smut #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #modern aemond #modern hotd #au modern

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evolnoomym · 3 months ago

Text

Doctor’s Pet 💌

Doctor!Dave York x nurse!reader

Main Masterlist | Dave York Masterlist

Summary: You are young, pretty, single and an aspiring Nurse. He’s older, married, bored and a talented Doctor. What happens when the two of you collide?

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: no y/n, Sunny is back, (yes I have different named OC’s), forbidden relationship, cheating, power imbalance, the sort of Sugar Daddy vibes came out of nowhere, marriage issues, rough forceful sex, dub-con, readers being used, cream pie, secret affair, oral f receiving, ass eating (I guess), unprotected p in v, red lipstick, fighting, spanking, tears….If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: This is for @punkshort ‘s 1 year tumblr anniversary August Writing challenge, I got Doctor Dave York and this is what I came up with. The Gorgeous Moodboard is made by the beautiful @notjustjavierpena 💌💌💌

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Big thank you to @fhatbhabiee @jennaispunk @notjustjavierpena @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading ❤️

As a young nurse that just finished her exams you are at the lower end of the chain and Dr.York, with his many years of experience, is at the top.

Before you were assigned to him, you only heard of the imposing Doctor through rumors spread by others. It was always about him being a handsome, talented and dedicated man who is, on the other side, a menace to the ones working with him. He’s bossy, snappy, mean and overall, not a pleasant man.

Usually, everyone just accepts the fact that he’s a pain in the ass because of all the knowledge he can provide.

The other nurses also always talk about wanting to hit on him and fantasize about how hot the sex with a man like him must be.

Doctor York is a tall, broad-shouldered, magnificent man with huge hands. He is clean-shaven, has a prominent nose, big brown eyes, dreamy lips and gorgeous brown hair with grey streaks.

You can admit that he’s a sight for sore eyes but from what you’ve been told the man has been married for more than 20 years. When he got married you weren’t even born yet.

Once you were told that you’d be working closely with him for the next two years, your friends expressed their jealousy and also their condolences. They told you that he would probably make you quit since you are one of the sweetest nurses in the hospital.

However, it surprised you when Doctor York was nothing but kind to you. He never yelled at you, never humiliated you during rounds when you didn’t know the correct answer, and never treated you like something below him but rather an equal.

The others started calling you two the dream team. Each shift you had with him felt like a blessing, no other doctor could compare to his finesse.

The relationship was strictly professional. Even when he allowed you access to his office library of incredible books about medical procedures, it was still very professional. When he started eating with you in his office whether it was breakfast, lunch, dinner or a midnight snack, it was still professional. When he kicked names of lists for important medical lectures just so you could have a spot, it was still professional. Even when he had his hand sneakily placed on your precious butt at the dinner party for the higher-ups, which you only had access to because of him, it was still professional. Even with his wife being right there.

That however changed one night when it all boiled over.

Your shift had ended an hour ago. You’d been waiting for Dr.York in his office since he always offered to take you home. Tonight, he apparently had something important come up which made him late but you didn’t mind.

You just walked around his office, sat in his big expensive-looking leather chair, scrolled endlessly on your phone, and browsed through his private library.

You remember it like it was yesterday that you were taking in all the stunning-looking books when the office door roughly got pushed open and there, he was in all his heaving galore, Doctor Dave York.

He looked like an animal with his ragged breathing, his eyes wide open, his jaw clenched hard as well as his fists.

You watched him close and lock the door. Before you could even ask what was going on he already pounced on you.

In no time he was right in front of you, crowding you against the bookcase.

In a split second he grabbed your face, pressing his lips on yours, kissing you with fever. It took you a moment to catch up with the situation at hand and once you did, you started kissing him back. His hands, those big paws, were all over you; on your face, your neck, your shoulder, your waist and your luscious hips.

He pulled away but only to drag you towards his big oak desk and bend you over the edge.

With your cheek squished against the surface, you could hear his huffed breathing behind you and felt his hands drag down your scrubs.

He just kept mumbling about how he needed you and that he would make it good. You just trusted him since he was your mentor and he knows best.

He admired your underwear as if it was chosen specifically for him. Kneeling behind you, he rubbed his cheek over your ass, squeezing and kneading you.

He dragged down your soaked thong and shoved his face between your legs, licking from your clit to your puckered hole and back. He ate you out like a man starved.

You had to place your palm over your mouth to muffle the intense moans trying to leave your mouth. He was doing a phenomenal job, licking broad stripes across your wet slit, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. Flicking the slender tip of his tongue on your puckered hole, stuffing it in your clenching pussy and slurping the sweet nectar of your arousal straight from the source.

He had you coming in no time.

That was all the preparation you got. Shortly after the orgasm subsided, he turned your limb body over and settled in between your wet thighs. He unzipped his pants and pulled out his impressive length. He dragged his cock over your slippery folds and slapped his tip on your clit.

He doesn't even ask about protection. Dr.York clearly didn’t care when he pushed his entire length into your warm tight hole.

He set a fast pace and if he didn’t have a bruising grip on your hips, you’d surely be pushed right off the table by the sheer force of his thrusts.

When you were almost there, he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“You - got - the - tightest - pussy - on - this - planet,-“ he punctuated each word with a hard thrust, “…ahhh, ah…ah, fuck, it’s so, so good baby. Your tight little cunt is taking me so well, exactly what I needed today.”

But he was not done yet; “I’m gonna fill you up…Hmmm, wouldn’t you like that Princess?”

All you could do was nod, which was all the consent Dave needed before thrusting even faster.

“Pull up that fucking shirt and show me those sugar-tits, you slut.” He made the decision for you when you didn’t react quickly enough. He grabbed the hem, shoved it up under your chin and pulled the white lace covering your tits to the side, so he could start running his fingers over your nipples, pinching and pulling them. The extra stimulation pushed you over the edge and when you clenched around him he immediately started spilling his hot cum inside you while huffing like an animal. Once he collapsed on top of you, he started whispering soothing words into your ear.

“Shh,shh, Princess, you're alright, you did so good. Took it like a champ, my little Sun.”

That was the breaking point. Nothing was professional anymore. The next months were filled with forbidden meetups anywhere possible. Sometimes, he fucked you in his car. Sometimes, he ruined you in his office. He learned where you live from the Personal data files and surprised you with take out, a bouquet of red roses and later fucked you on your bed. After a while, there’s no surface left in your apartment that hasn’t been used. You were in such bliss that you didn’t even worry about how he found out where you live.

In those following months you learn that his marriage has been crumbling for a while. Dave is unhappy and the fights keep getting worse. When he fucked you in his office for the first time, he had just been on the phone with Carol, having another screaming match. You became a way of releasing all of the tension and anger she caused him.

In the beginning, you came to a mutual agreement that it would be nothing serious, but with time neither of you could really deny that it was not casual sex anymore.

He took you away on little trips whenever both of your busy schedules allowed it.

He showered you with Gifts ranging from a new plant, lingerie, perfume or Jewelry to a new car. He had money and he wanted to treat his sunshine the right way. How Mrs.York didn’t catch onto anything going on was a mystery to you.

The gifts, however, were not enough. You wanted him to yourself completely, officially and for everyone to see, leave marks all over his thick neck, scratches on his back when he was fucking you, leave your smell all over him, and have pictures of you together on his desk instead of his wife.

You should have felt remorse for Carol for taking away her husband, the love of her life, but you didn’t. If it was wrong then why did it feel so good?

Lately, you’ve been irritated with Dave. He keeps telling you how he will leave his wife but he never does. He keeps saying that he needs more time and that a divorce will take time.

As you stand in front of the closest in his office, you think back to earlier when you were making out with Dave and he totally flipped out because of something so insignificant.

You wore the red Chanel lipstick he bought you, the one he asked you to put on, and then suck his cock until the red color was smeared everywhere. Yeah, that one. You jokingly pressed your lips to his white shirt collar and immediately got shoved away from him.

“What the hell, Sunny, are you serious? Why would you do this?”

His face was flushed from all the anger coursing through his veins. You could see how he clenched his jaw as he pointed towards the red mark you left, something he will certainly not get out of the fabric unless he wanted to explain to Carol what happened.

“Are you kidding me? Dave, you’ve been saying for weeks how you’re gonna separate and yet here we are, still hiding. I don’t wanna be a secret anymore.”

You smiled somewhat sinisterly while you walked up behind him as he was standing at the sink in his office bathroom, “I want her gone. You’re mine.” You slide your hand around his waist and towards his crotch to squeeze his hard bulge.

Dave, however, is still pissed, so he pushed you off again, “Sunny, get the hell out of here. Now!” His loud booming voice made you jump and obey immediately as you walked out.

You are still mad that he would blow up at you about such a minor thing. You feel like being petty. Dave has a closet filled with at least ten spare shirts - well, after your earlier actions it’s only nine left - and you plan on ruining all of them.

One by one, you take the smooth, clean white linen shirts of the individual hangers and place them in your lap as you sit down in his massive chair. Methodically, you apply the lipstick and start pressing your lips all over each shirt until there’s only one left unscathed.

When you are just about to press your lips to the last one, the office door swings open and you immediately jump up.

Dave is back earlier than you expected. His eyes take in the scene before him and he looks livid, eyebrows knit together, jaw clenched and his gaze sharp when he addresses you with a low and intimidating voice, “Sunny, you better explain yourself before you get in serious trouble.”

You just give him a half-hearted shrug as you look away from him.

“Fuck you Dave.”

You roll your eyes and a smirk slowly grows on your face. You quietly giggle as you turn away from him and pick out the scissors he keeps in his desk drawer. You start humming happily as you cut up the last shirt while he’s watching. Once you’re done you throw the fabric cuts at his face.

“Sunny I swear, if you don’t apologize right know on your fucking knees, we-“ You cut in immediately with two simple words that set of a chain of events: “Make me.”

In the blink of an eye, he’s toe to toe with you, towering above you and ripping the scissors from your grasp to throw them away.

“You’ve made a fucking mistake, little Sun, I’m gonna make you apologize.”

As you roll your eyes up at him, his hand shoots out again to grab your throat in an iron grip.

“You know, Sunny, when I first saw you, I thought you were a sweet Angel but turns out, you are just a bratty cunt that can’t get enough.”

You try to shake your head but his grip is unrelenting, so you have no chance to disagree.

He eases up and spins you around, shoving you face-first over the desk like a déjà vu from the first night all those months ago.

With one hand, he holds you down and with the other, he tears your pants and panties over your ass and down your legs.

He delivers relentless blows to your cheeks left and right till your tears start spilling down your cheeks. You don’t even think about screaming, he wouldn’t stop anyway and you know that it’s deserved. You just bite down on your lips until you’re almost bleeding.

“D..Da..Dave, please!”

You mumble through tears. You know that he enjoys seeing you cry; it is evident by the warm bulge pressing into your bruised cheeks from behind.

“What was that baby,huh? Speak up, little one?”

He starts grinding into you gently, rocking his hips into yours.

“Please, please. I’m sorry, please.”

You are getting more and more desperate, even starting to whine when he starts pulling away.

“Shhh, Sunny, be a good girl for me, okay? You wanna be my good girl, don’t you.?”

It’s incredible how he goes from being mean and degrading to being sweet and loving.

You can hear how he unzips his pants and soon, he is behind you again, slowly dragging his leaking tip through your folds.

“Hmmm, baby, she’s crying just like you. She enjoyed that, didn’t she?” He starts laughing.

The head keeps catching onto your entrance which is pulsating and gushing.

“Dave, pleaseeee, put it in, please.”

“Are you gonna apologize?”

It took you a moment to gather yourself.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry, I ruined your shirts.”

“Good job, baby, now was that so hard? You need to have more patience, Sunny.”

“Yes, Dave.”

“Nah- ah ah.”

“Yes, Doctor York.” He enjoys displaying how superior he is to you.

And then he pushes into your quivering pussy. At first, he does it slowly but once half of his length has disappeared inside of you, he decides to shove himself into you in one quick thrust, filling you to the brim.

“Ahhh…y..y yes, Doctor York, ughhhh. Fuck me harder.”

“What’s the magic word, princess?”

“Please, please, harder Doctor York.”

He immediately picks up his pace, your combined labored breaths and the slapping of skin filling the office.

You are convinced that you will wake up tomorrow with bruises on your hip bones from hitting the edge of the table repeatedly.

“Are you close, baby?”

Your pussy answers for you, tightening around his cock.

“Yes, she is, I’m gonna fill you up, okay, Sunny?”

You weakly nod with your face smashed against the smooth wooden surface.

His hand slips between your thighs and rubs your clit with quick stripes that have you unraveling in no time.

“Da..Dr.York I’m gonna come. I’m cumming, don't stop, don’t stop.”

You have to clamp your hand over your mouth to muffle the pending moans.

“Yes, baby, come on my cock. Come on, Sunny, be a good girl and come for me.”

With his cock hitting your g-spot repeatedly, his fingers drawing circles on your clit, and his Dirty words combined, Dave pushes you over the edge.

Your thighs instinctively want to close but he shoves them back open, harshly fucking you through your orgasm. Your cunt tightens around him so beautifully that he can’t resist any longer and starts coming deep inside of you.

“Take what I give you, Sunny, you take it all and keep it inside, okay? To remind you of who you belong to.”

He leans over you, his chest brushing against your back. Dave nuzzles into your neck and leaves soft kisses on your throat, behind your ear and on your slightly exposed shoulder.

You relish in the warm feeling filling you.

“Thank you Dave, I love you.” You whisper in daze.

“I love you too Princess.”

Npt: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @guiltyasdave @sizzlingcloudmentality @yorksgirl @vivian-pascal @mountainsandmayhem @msjarvis @sawymredfox @thundermartini @axshadows @strang3lov3 @missyorkswhore @littlemisspascal

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#dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #dave york #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #shortieswritingchallenge #writing challenge #Doctor Au #dave york x female reader #dave york x reader #dave york equalizer 2 #My writing #Mina writes

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