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lizzyiii · 1 month ago

Note

The Dragon’s Treasure has my WHOLE heart 🥹

thank you, babe. i've really enjoyed writing her and aemond

The Dragon's Treasure (3)

pairing | young aemond targaryen x niece!reader

word count | 11k words

summary | “...and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.”

tags | as we all know ANGST, ANGST, ANGSTTTT, and eventually rainbow after the storm, SA! (aemonds brothel scene), things do get better y'all, targaryen incest, reader is described to have silver hair and lilac eyes, reader being a sensitive queen, and FLUFF and young love, aemond being a SIMP, TOOTHROTTING FLUFF

a/n | I cried so much, while writing this. I loved writing young aemond, I loved writing young helaena but especially loved writing young reader. I promise you guys this, when I have the time I'll write a one shot of them when they're older and more post-episode 7. When they're older (16&18). Also I really went overboard ngl

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You weren’t eating again.

Aemond had overheard his mother’s worried whispers as she discussed your condition with the maesters. He was still angry with you—hurt by the thought that you would try to leave them all behind, leave him behind, without a second thought. But no matter how deep his anger ran, his concern for you ran deeper.

After a long and contemplative ride on Vhagar, the weight of the sky above him and the sea below doing little to settle his thoughts, Aemond sought out his mother.

“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice weary as she looked down at him, her exhaustion evident in the fine lines around her eyes. Between preparing for Aegon and Helaena's wedding and your worsening state, the strain was taking its toll. “I don’t think she’s in the mood for any visitors.”

She still didn’t know the full truth of what had happened—the attempt to run away with Helaena, the plan you had kept hidden from them all. All Alicent knew was that you had retreated into yourself once more, refusing to speak to anyone, even to Helaena, the one who had once pulled you from your darkness.

“It’s her nameday tomorrow,” Aemond murmured, his voice quiet but steady.

Alicent’s face tightened, pain flashing in her eyes as she thought of how you had been before all this—brighter, more spirited. Aemond continued, his tone soft but resolute. “She likes strawberry cakes. Let me bring her one, Mother. Please.”

Alicent’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. Her sharp, determined boy, scarred both in body and soul, yet still showing more kindness than anyone would expect after all he had endured. He had lost an eye, but his heart—his heart still carried a tenderness that surprised her.

She sighed, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her worries. “Very well,” she said softly. “You have my leave to visit her tomorrow.”

Aemond didn’t smile, didn’t show any hint of relief, though inside, the resolve in his chest tightened. He simply nodded in acknowledgment. His mind had already begun to turn over what he would say to you when he saw you—how he might reach you through the walls you had built around yourself.

Tomorrow was your nameday, and whether you liked it or not, Aemond would be there for you.

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Aemond’s heart raced as he approached your chambers, his hands gripping the tray carrying strawberry cakes. He had spent much of the morning thinking of what else he could bring—perhaps a necklace, something to match the sapphire that lay hidden beneath his eyepatch. You loved jewelry, and he knew how your eyes lit up at the sight of anything that sparkled. But in the end, he settled on simplicity—just the cakes you loved, hoping they would be enough.

As he neared your door, he was greeted by Ser Rowan, your loyal guard, who stood as firm as ever, his expression stern.

“My prince,” Ser Rowan acknowledged with a nod, his voice gruff. “The princess is in no condition to receive visitors today.”

Aemond stiffened, his chest rising as he squared his shoulders. He would not be turned away so easily. “It is her nameday,” he said firmly, his voice laced with authority. He took a step closer, meeting Ser Rowan’s unyielding gaze with his own, violet eye sharp. “The queen has granted me permission to visit her.”

Ser Rowan remained still, but Aemond didn’t back down. He tilted his head slightly, his tone low and challenging. “Will you disobey the Queen’s word?”

There was a moment of silence as the guard’s eyes flicked down to the tray Aemond carried. His stern expression softened just slightly when he saw the strawberry cakes. Ser Rowan let out a heavy sigh, his duty to you outweighing his hesitation. He too wished for your recovery, and perhaps, he thought, a visit from Aemond might bring some light back into your eyes.

“Very well, my prince,” he said at last, stepping aside. He opened the door with a creak, allowing Aemond to enter.

Aemond took a deep breath, holding the tray steady as he stepped into your chambers. The door closed softly behind him, but the room was dim, heavy with silence. His heart clenched at the sight of you curled up on the bed, facing the wall, your small form barely stirring.

"Niece," Aemond’s voice echoed softly through the room, breaking the heavy silence of your chambers.

There was a pause, and then your voice, quiet and tired, reached him. "Go away."

He pursed his lips, setting the tray down gently on the bedside table. The room was dim, shrouded in a pink hue from your curtains, and he made his way over to the window, pulling the drapes wide open. Sunlight poured in, casting the room in a golden glow.

From behind him, you hissed, "Close them." He heard the rustle of your blankets as you pulled them over your head, shielding yourself from the brightness.

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he turned back to face you. "Happy Nameday," he said, his tone lighter than before. "I brought you something."

"I don’t want it," you muttered from beneath the covers, your voice muffled and distant.

He sat beside you, his movements careful, placing the tray of strawberry cakes within arm’s reach. "I’m sure you will," he replied softly, hoping to coax you out from your cocoon of blankets.

For a few moments, there was nothing—just the faint sounds of the breeze outside and the distant chatter from the courtyard. Aemond sighed, the weight of the silence between you heavier than he could bear. He reached out, his hand hovering just above your arm, but then hesitated. His fingers twitched before he pulled his hand back, unsure of how to communicate with you.

"You know," he began quietly, his voice careful, "I wouldn’t force that on you. To bear children you don’t want. One would be enough."

There was a sharp scoff from beneath the blankets. "How generous of you," you replied, the bitterness in your tone unmistakable.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze steady on the blankets that covered you. His mind drifted to the records he had been reading, the histories you both loved to discuss. He knew how much you valued stories of the past, of old kings and queens, of the lives they led. Swallowing, he decided to share what had been on his mind, hoping it might reach you.

"I’ve been reading more since our last talk," he murmured. "About King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Even after many children, he made her bear more when she didn’t wish to." His voice was soft but steady, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. He had been thinking of you, trying to understand your fears.

The sunlight streamed across your bed, casting shadows as Aemond spoke. He knew that love was rare among their kind, especially in Targaryen unions, but he hoped. Hoped that maybe, in time, you would not just be duty and title to him.

"I would never do that to you," he added, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable. "I want our marriage to be different."

The room was still. The only sound was the faint rustling of the breeze outside, and the quiet breathing of Dreamfyre from somewhere far beyond your window. Aemond’s words lingered, waiting for you to respond, to show him something—anything—that might bridge the gap between you.

Slowly, you lowered the blankets just enough for your eyes to peek out, meeting Aemond's gaze. "He was a bad man," you mumbled, referring to King Jaehaerys.

Aemond, ever the scholar, couldn’t resist. "He was a good king," he pointed out, his tone firm but calm.

You rolled your eyes, a small defiance shining through your sadness. "Still a bad man." For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, and then you added thoughtfully, "Aenys Targaryen was a good man."

Aemond let out a scoff. "He was weak."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a flicker of something behind your lilac gaze, something like amusement. "A weak king, yes. Only because he tried to make everyone happy."

Your eyes shifted towards the tray on the bedside table, where the strawberry cakes sat. After a moment of hesitation, your voice, still tinged with sadness, broke the silence. "Is today really my nameday?"

Aemond nodded, his own expression softening. "Yes."

"Oh." Your response was quiet, almost absent-minded, as if you were still processing.

Aemond reached for the tray and held it out to you, offering a tentative smile. "Would you like one?"

You eyed the cakes, and though your sadness still lingered, something softened in your expression. "Those do look nice," you murmured. Finally, you pulled the blanket away from your face and sat up slowly, your movements careful and deliberate. Though your face remained neutral, devoid of the joy that used to light it up, you gave a small nod. "Alright."

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he handed you a cake. It wasn’t much, but seeing you like this—out of bed, talking to him—felt like a small victory.

As you took a bite, your eyes flickered to his once more, and Aemond stayed beside you, content with the simple moment of shared silence, hopeful that things might get better.

Aemond felt as though he were trapped in a cage of unbearable heat, the air around him thick, suffocating. The wine—a dark, bitter liquid that Aegon had forced upon him—now churned wildly in his stomach, its taste sour and unpleasant. He longed to rid himself of it, to escape the strange and unfamiliar sensations overtaking him.

It was after the grand feast in honor of his thirteenth nameday that Aegon, with a sly grin and a glint in his eye, had promised him a "surprise." Aemond, still naive to the darker aspects of his brother’s humor, had followed without protest, his curiosity outweighing his caution. They had ventured deep into King’s Landing, to a shadowed place Aemond had never seen before—a pleasure house filled with laughter and the soft rustling of silks.

Before Aemond could voice his hesitation, Aegon had disappeared into the throng of bodies, swallowed by the merry voices and whispers of the women within. And Aemond was left alone, standing awkwardly, unsure of what was to happen next.

He was led into a small chamber, dimly lit by flickering candles, their soft glow casting strange and unsettling shadows on the walls. The tapestries that adorned the room depicted scenes he barely understood—men and women entwined in ways that seemed more confusing than enticing. He felt a knot tightening in his chest, and a cold wave of dread settled over him.

Then she entered—a woman far older than his mother, her presence overwhelming in the confined space. She smiled at him, her voice soft and syrupy, laced with sweet lies that made his skin crawl. She cooed over him, her hands reaching for him before he had the chance to say anything, her touch gentle yet intrusive as she began to undress him.

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and every fiber of his being screamed for her to stop, to leave him be. But his voice—his strength—had abandoned him. He remained frozen, his limbs stiff and unresponsive as she whispered things into his ear, words he wished he hadn’t heard, promises he didn’t understand.

When it was over, Aemond was left numb. He sat there, silent, as if his body no longer belonged to him, as though he had become something entirely separate from himself. Trembling, he fumbled with his clothes, his fingers shaking as he struggled to dress. His mind was a whirl of confusion, shame, and anger, but above all, he felt the desperate need to flee.

He didn’t care where Aegon had gone, didn’t want to face him or anyone else. The only thought that filled his mind was reaching you, his niece, his betrothed, his future wife, the one person who might make him feel whole again.

His feet carried him through the secret passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast, each step heavy with fear and sorrow. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his chest aching as he pushed himself to move faster. His tears—hot and unbidden—ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision, but he did not stop.

He passed his own chambers, the rooms of his mother, and everyone else, not wanting to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside him. He only wanted you.

It felt as though the gods had granted Aemond a moment of mercy when he reached your chambers, finding Ser Rowan absent from his post. Without hesitation, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, his heart still racing, tears brimming in his eye as he struggled to hold them back.

You were fast asleep, your back turned toward him. Aemond let out a quiet breath of relief. He hadn’t come to disturb you, only to be near you—just your presence, your warmth, was enough to calm the storm inside him.

Quietly, he made his way to your bed and carefully, as if afraid to wake you, slid in beside you. He kept a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude, but just close enough to feel your presence. The motion stirred you from your sleep, and you sat up, blinking in confusion.

Your eyes widened when they fell on Aemond, and for a brief, horrible moment, he realised it was because of his face. He had forgotten—he had left his eye patch behind at the brothel. The clear ragged sapphire was bare for you to see.

Panic surged through him. You would be disgusted, he thought, repelled by the sight of his disfigurement. He moved to leave, heart pounding, but your voice reached him before he could retreat.

“Aemond, breathe,” you whispered, your strained voice soft and steady.

He froze, his chest tight with the effort to suppress his panic. He needed to leave—he couldn’t bear for you to see him like this. Not you, his dearest niece, who always knew him as strong, as whole. He couldn’t let you witness the broken, ruined side of him.

But then, you reached out, grabbing his trembling hands in your own small ones, your touch warm and gentle. "Please, stay," you whispered, your voice filled with concern. Slowly, you began rubbing his cold hands, trying to bring warmth back to him, both in body and spirit.

His breathing was still uneven, but your soft words and the warmth of your touch soothed him. He looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. There was no disgust there, no fear—only worry and care. Just like before. Slowly, the tension began to leave his body, and for the first time since he had fled that terrible place, Aemond felt a glimmer of relief.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hands a little tighter. "I don’t care about your face, Aemond," you murmured softly, your tired lilac eyes meeting his. "I care about you."

As you gently laid back onto your pillow, you looked at Aemond with concern, urging him to lie beside you. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly, he did as you asked, his awkward frame seeming out of place in your small bed. You turned to face him, your wide lilac eyes full of care, while Aemond’s own single violet eye struggled to meet yours.

With quiet care, you reached out, placing your small hand on his scarred cheek. He flinched at first, his breath catching in his throat, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers traced the jagged line of the scar that ran down his face, the skin rough beneath your touch. It was as if you weren’t looking at the scar at all, just him—Aemond, your beloved uncle, the boy who protected you, who read to you, who you always knew to be brave.

He shivered under your touch, his emotions twisting inside him. But you said nothing more, just a quiet, simple comfort.

“Sleep, Aemond,” you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

The words wrapped around him like a balm, a promise in the soft glow of the dim candlelight. For so long, Aemond had carried his burdens alone, but in this moment, with your hand on his face and your soft breath mingling with the night air, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since Driftmark—peace.

His eye fluttered shut, and with the rhythm of your breathing beside him, he let himself drift away, finally surrendering to sleep.

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Aemond entered your chambers quietly, the weight of the box in his hands almost insignificant compared to the heaviness that lingered in the air. He had been allowed to visit freely now, thanks to Ser Rowan's softening stance, but each visit felt like walking on a thread, delicate and uncertain.

He paused when he saw you on the chaise, struggling with your embroidery. The soft light from the window highlighted the paleness of your features—still recovering, still distant, but better than before. You were eating now, and though your mood hadn't brightened, that small improvement brought Aemond some comfort. He cherished these moments, even if they were shrouded in silence.

"I've brought something for you," he said, his voice steady yet quiet as he approached.

You glanced up from your work but said nothing. The tangled mess of threads on the pillow caught his eye, and he bent slightly to inspect it, attempting to mask the awkwardness he always felt in the wake of that night. He hadn’t been ready to speak of it, and thankfully, neither had you.

"That’s a nice lion," Aemond offered, pointing to the uneven form stitched into the fabric.

Your lips parted slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement mixing with frustration as you murmured, "It was supposed to be the Queen."

Aemond’s lips twitched in response, nodding solemnly as if in deep thought. "Now that you say it," he replied, his voice light, "I do recognize her hair."

With a small sigh, you tossed the pillow aside like it was something offensive, watching as it tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Your eyes flickered towards the box in Aemond’s hands, suspicion mingling with curiosity.

"What have you brought me?" you asked, your voice quiet, but holding a hint of anticipation.

Aemond didn’t reply at first, simply stepping forward and offering the box to you, his expression unreadable. You hesitated for a moment, then carefully took it from him.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the lid, pulling back the fine paper that covered the gift inside. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you uncovered a stunning gown—lilac silk adorned with delicate embroidery, tiny jewels catching the light like stars. Your hands traced the fabric, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips, the craftsmanship clear in every stitch.

Aemond watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a shift in your expression—a glimmer of something that almost resembled joy.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice low, holding his breath as he awaited your response.

You glanced up at him, and for the first time in many moons, you smiled. It was small, barely there, but it warmed Aemond's heart like the sun after a long winter.

"Yes, I do," you replied softly, still admiring the gown. "What's it for?"

"Helaena's wedding."

At once, the warmth in the room seemed to drain away. The smile you had given Aemond, fleeting as it was, vanished, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. His heart sank, watching as you carefully folded the gown, tucking it back into the box with deliberate gentleness. The delicate fabric crinkled under your hands as though it were something too precious to be touched, something that no longer belonged to you.

"I'm afraid you've wasted your efforts," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze fixed on the gown. "I'm not going."

Aemond's brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He stepped closer, his voice steady yet urgent. "You have to go."

But you refused to meet his eye. You knew how intense his gaze could be, how easily it could pierce through your defenses. Staring at the box instead, you shook your head, your words coming out firm, resolute. "I won't."

Aemond's lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of your stubbornness settling between you both. "Helaena needs you," he urged, his tone softening, as if pleading might sway you.

You let out a bitter sigh, your fingers tracing the edge of the box, a dull ache settling in your chest. "Well, perhaps I can hurt her the same way she hurt me," you muttered, your words tinged with petulance, though the pain beneath them was clear.

Aemond stood in silence for a long moment, weighing your words, the tension in the air thick between you. His voice, quieter this time, broke the silence like a whisper carried on the wind. "Will you really not go?"

"No," you replied, though your voice softened now, the sharp edge of defiance fading. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. You raised your chin, trying to hold onto the last bit of resolve. "Now, is that all you've come to visit me for?"

Aemond's heart ached at the sight of you—so distant, so caught in your own sorrow. He stood there, unsure of how to reach you, the distance between you feeling far more than just the space in the room.

The day of Helaena’s wedding arrived, and just as you had promised, you didn’t go. Aemond had come to your chambers in the morning, his expression pleading as he urged you one last time to change your mind. His words were careful, filled with the weight of his disappointment, but still, you remained firm.

You had refused.

As the sun set, casting a warm golden hue across the castle walls, you lay alone in your chambers, curled beneath the thick blankets on your bed. The echoes of the celebrations reached your ears in faint murmurs, muffled by the heavy stone of the keep. The joyous sounds of laughter and music only seemed to deepen the ache in your heart.

It was when night fell fully that the tears came, slow at first, then faster, spilling onto your pillow as regret took hold of you. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, but it did little to stop the sadness that had finally caught up to you. You could see it so clearly in your mind—Helaena standing alone in the grand Sept, a pale and fragile figure, her face drawn with sorrow. You imagined her forced to marry Aegon, the brother you both knew was unfit for her, and the weight of your absence pressed hard on your chest.

How could you not have been there for her?

The thought made you feel smaller, childish even. You had let your anger and hurt guide you, and in doing so, you had abandoned Helaena on one of the worst days of her life. She was likely miserable, her heart heavy with sadness, and you, spiteful and stubborn, had stayed away. You bit your lip, choking back a sob.

Your gaze drifted to the gown Aemond had gifted you, still lying folded neatly in the box by your bedside, untouched, its lilac fabric gleaming faintly in the moonlight. You reached for it now, pulling the soft material through your fingers as though it could offer you some comfort.

But it didn’t.

It only reminded you of the mistake you had made.

You missed your mother.

For all the hurt she caused, all the ways she had abandoned you, there was still a deep ache for her, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. You wanted to hate her, truly despise her for leaving you behind. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t. The love for her still clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t lose.

As the days passed in the quiet isolation of your chambers, you began to understand things you hadn’t before. With each lonely hour, the weight of your thoughts pressed harder on your heart. Your mother had been selfish, more than you had ever allowed yourself to admit. She had promised you the world, and yet, in the end, she had given you nothing.

You were her firstborn, the eldest of her children, and yet the title that should have been yours had been passed to Jace. He was her heir to the Iron Throne, the future king, while you were left to the shadows. Even Driftmark, the seat of your grandsire, should have been yours by birthright, but it had been given to Luke instead.

The bitterness inside you grew with every thought. You hated them now—your brothers. You knew it was childish, petulant even, but the feelings were there, and they wouldn’t leave. They had taken everything from you. Titles that were rightfully yours, the pride of riding dragons, and worst of all, they still had your mother. They were together as one big happy family on Dragonstone, while you had been left here in King's Landing, a forgotten daughter in the midst of their enemies.

“It’s fine,” you whispered to yourself in the dark, trying to believe it. You had never liked Dragonstone anyway, with its cold winds and sharp rocks. But even as you said it, your heart tightened with the lie. You missed the place, the warmth of the hearth, the sight of the sea from your window, and the feeling of belonging—something you hadn’t felt in so long.

And in the quiet moments, when the anger settled and the room was still, you knew the truth. It wasn’t your brothers’ fault. They hadn’t asked for this, to be born as they were, with all the whispers and shadows cast over their lineage. No, it was your mother’s choices that had led to this. Her indiscretions. But even as that truth formed in your mind, you found that you couldn’t hate her.

It was easier to be angry with them—with Jace and Luke—because hating her, the one you loved most, was something you just couldn’t bear.

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"I hated you, you know."

Aemond's head jerked up, eyes widening at the unexpected words. He had been sitting quietly in your chambers, absorbed in a thick tome about the horrors of Essos. You stood across the room, brush in hand, painting the pink walls of your chamber as if it were any other day. But there was a tension in the air, a weight to your voice that made his heart quicken.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the canvas as you murmured, "When you claimed Vhagar, I hated you."

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. Aemond’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you. The stillness of the room was broken only by the soft strokes of your brush against the canvas.

"I feel as if I hate everyone," you continued, voice tight and strained. "I hate Luke and Jace for stealing my titles." Your brush moved faster, more aggressively. "I hate Daemon for stealing my mother. I even hate Baela and Rhaena, if only because they get to have her now, as if she’s theirs instead of mine."

A scoff escaped your lips, but the sound was bitter. Aemond noticed the way your hand trembled slightly, how your breath caught as tears glistened in your lilac eyes.

"I hated Helaena for not running away with me," you whispered, the words coming out choked. "And I hate myself for not having a dragon, for not being someone important, someone worthy of a title."

Tears began streaming down your face, and yet you kept painting, as if the act itself could somehow keep the flood of emotions at bay. Finally, your gaze lifted from the canvas and met Aemond’s. His heart clenched at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"And I hated you," you said, voice breaking, "for claiming Vhagar and leaving me alone in this world."

The sob that followed was wrenching, and Aemond couldn’t stay still any longer. He moved toward you, closing the distance between you both with careful, deliberate steps. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you wept.

"I don’t want to feel this way," you cried into his tunic, voice muffled and raw. "So pathetic, so angry at everyone. But I can’t help it. And yet, no matter how hard I try, I can never hate her."

Aemond’s chest tightened at your words, his own emotions swirling in a storm he didn’t know how to express. He rested his chin gently on your head, holding you as tightly as he dared, feeling the weight of your pain as if it were his own.

"I know," he whispered softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

And so he held you, offering no more words, just the quiet comfort of his presence as your tears slowly soaked into his shoulder. He wished he could consume your pain and take it away, wished he could make things right. But all he could do was stand there, arms around you, as the world outside seemed so far away.

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“How is Helaena?”

It was the first time in what felt like forever that you had left your chambers. Aemond had been persistent, urging you to take some air, to leave the four walls that had become your prison. Reluctantly, you agreed, and now the two of you sat beneath the heart tree in the Godswood, surrounded by the stillness of nature. Aemond had brought a stack of books, ones he knew you both enjoyed, hoping they might distract you.

“The same as ever,” Aemond answered absently, his attention flickering between the pages of the book in his lap and the rustling leaves above.

He paused, glancing up at you. "She’s set to give birth in three moons' time," he added, his voice soft, as if the thought still surprised him.

You looked down, your heart aching at how quickly time had passed. It had been almost two years since you had returned to King’s Landing, and though you tried to avoid thinking about it, you knew things would never be the same. “Is her pregnancy going well?” you asked quietly, your voice small against the whisper of the wind.

Aemond pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in thought. “She has strange cravings," he said, his voice low. "And her belly is… large, perhaps too large for just six moons.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m sure a visit from you would lift her spirits,” he suggested, his tone careful, as though he didn’t want to push too hard.

You shook your head almost immediately, your silver curls spilling over your shoulders. “I’m not sure it would,” you murmured, your voice full of doubt.

Aemond studied you for a long moment, his sharp violet eye watching the way your expression shifted, the way your gaze seemed to turn inward. "She speaks of you sometimes," he said quietly, trying to find the right words to reach you. "She misses you."

You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you looked away from him, your fingers tracing idle patterns in the grass. You missed her too.

Aemond, noticing the sadness clouding your face, cleared his throat, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. “Perhaps when you feel better,” he began, his voice lighter, “you could join me on a ride with Vhagar.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “Me? Ride Vhagar?” You shook your head. “I’m not sure Vhagar would like me. A loud, annoying girl.”

Aemond raised a brow, his face dead serious. “If that were true, Vhagar would’ve eaten Baela and Rhaena years ago.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you laughed. A real laugh, bubbling up from deep within, spilling out in a way that felt foreign yet so relieving. Two years of being shut away in your chambers, and now here you were, laughing at Aemond’s dry humor. The sound filled the Godswood, bright and full of life.

Aemond, momentarily stunned, blinked at you in astonishment. He hadn’t expected it, not after everything, but when his mind caught up, a broad smile tugged at his lips. The kind of smile that was rare for him, genuine and unguarded.

“Vhagar will love you,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. He hesitated for just a moment, his thoughts turning to words he longed to say but didn’t. Just as I do, he thought. But instead, he insisted with a warmth in his tone, “I’m sure of that.”

You gave a small shrug, murmuring, "Maybe," without truly committing to the idea.

Aemond studied your face for a moment, his heart lighter at the sound of your earlier laughter, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I claimed Vhagar for the both of us."

Your expression shifted in an instant, the color draining from your face as you stared at him. "What?" you mumbled, barely above a whisper.

Aemond averted his gaze, trying to appear casual, though his heart raced. "I remembered what you said—about sharing a dragon. And when your dragon egg didn’t hatch, I decided... Vhagar should be for both of us." He looked up, meeting your startled lilac eyes with his steady violet one. "For you and me to share."

Tears welled in your eyes without warning, and Aemond’s calm composure crumbled. He immediately scrambled to your side, kneeling in the grass and reaching out to comfort you. "No, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry," he said, his hands hovering nervously, unsure of what to do.

You waved his hands away, though a small smile began to form through your tears. "I feel a bit foolish now," you admitted, as tears continued to fall down your cheeks.

Aemond took your hands gently in his, bringing them to his lips in a tender kiss. "And so?" He whispered, his gaze filled with sincerity.

As the tears dried on your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath, though your nose remained a bit red. "But... I think Vhagar is much more suited for you," you finally said, your voice still soft but calmer.

Aemond nodded, willing to agree if it brought you comfort. "Will you still consider joining me?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

You looked at him, your smile returning, this time more playful. "I shall," you said with a teasing glint in your eyes, your hands still resting in his.

──────────────────────────────

"Princess, are you almost done?"

Ser Rowan’s voice was tinged with exasperation as he stood with arms raised, holding the pose you had instructed. You had begged him to model for your painting when he arrived to greet you at dawn, and now the sun was climbing high in the sky, casting warm rays through the window. Despite the time, he remained your patient subject.

"Almost, Ser Rowan," you replied cheerfully, your brush gliding across the canvas as you focused on capturing the details of his expression.

The knight let out a weary sigh, feeling his muscles beginning to stiffen. Yet he would endure anything to keep the smile on your face; he was your willing captive, devoted to your whims.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Ser Rowan instinctively straightened, positioning himself protectively in front of you. He relaxed his stance when he saw Prince Aemond enter, though a worried look darkened the prince's features.

"Aemond, what’s wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you set down your brush.

The prince was out of breath, urgency threading through his voice. "Helaena went into labor last night. It’s been long and difficult. She’s calling for you."

Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth in shock, struggling to find your voice amidst the sudden rush of fear and worry.

Before you could respond, Ser Rowan spoke softly but firmly. "Princess, we must go."

You nodded, the news settling in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold. You hurriedly followed Aemond and Ser Rowan out of your chamber, your heart pounding with a mix of concern and guilt.

Thoughts raced through your mind—what would you say to Helaena? Would she forgive you for not being there these past months? You hadn’t seen her in nearly ten moons, too consumed by your own sadness to leave your room.

As the three of you made your way to the birthing chambers, the air felt thick with anticipation. Upon reaching the door, you encountered another guard who bowed respectfully at your approach.

"The princess has successfully given birth, your Highnesses," he announced, his voice steady.

You and Aemond exchanged a glance, relief washing over you, and he offered you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to enter and see Helaena, the weight of your past decisions lingering in the back of your mind, but hope beginning to spark within your heart.

As you stepped into the chamber, your eyes immediately found Queen Alicent standing in the center, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A soft glow of love radiated from her as she looked down at Helaena's babe, a precious life nestled against her.

Your gaze shifted, and you gasped softly when you finally spotted Helaena on the birthing bed. To your astonishment, she was holding another baby as well.

"Twins," you murmured, the words slipping out louder than intended, catching the attention of both the Queen and Helaena.

Alicent's eyes widened in surprise, and a warm smile spread across her face at the sight of you. "Princess, it brings me joy to see you out of your chambers," she said, her voice gentle.

You nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment as you shifted your gaze back to Helaena. She was already looking at you, her expression filled with a mix of fatigue and joy. Slowly, you approached the bed, holding your breath as you took in the sight before you.

The babe in Helaena's arms had the unmistakable silver hair of House Targaryen, a stark contrast to the dark-haired children of your brothers. You couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but the sight of the tiny face, so fragile and perfect, made your heart swell.

"What are their names?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the babe's slumber. Your voice barely rose above a whisper, filled with wonder.

A tiny smile bloomed on Helaena's weary face, her eyes lighting up with pride. She gestured to the babe nestled in her arms. "This is Jaehaera," she said, her voice tender. Then she nodded toward the child cradled by Queen Alicent. "And that is Jaehaerys."

You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of warmth at the names, though a shadow lingered in your mind. You didn’t dare ask where Aegon was; the thought of him missing the birth of his children felt too heavy to voice. Carefully, you settled beside Helaena on the birthing bed, the air filled with soft silence and the smell of newborns.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, unable to meet her gaze as your eyes traced the delicate features of Jaehaera. The babe's tiny fingers curled and unfurled, and your heart ached with a mix of joy and regret.

Helaena's hand found yours, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Looking up at her, a relieved smile broke through your sadness, tears glistening in your eyes. In that moment, the past felt a little lighter, the bond between you strengthening. But then Helaena's expression turned hopeful. "Would you like to hold her?"

You immediately shook your head, anxiety creeping in. "I don't know how."

"I didn’t know how either before this," Helaena said, her voice soft and encouraging. She carefully passed Jaehaera into your arms. You cradled the babe as if she were made of glass, your heart racing with both fear and delight. "It’s very easy."

A small laugh escaped you, bubbling with nervousness. "She’s very small."

"Yes," Helaena murmured, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. "Just as we were once."

You gazed down at the sleeping babe, feeling the weight of her tiny form in your arms. You glanced up at Helaena, her eyes shining with love and hope, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.

You let out a huge yawn as you finally walked back to your chambers, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders. You had spent most of your time in Helaena's chambers, cradling Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in your arms. Queen Alicent had eagerly encouraged your visits, saying it was good practice for when you would have your own children with Aemond.

The thought felt strange yet comforting. After so many hours spent with the tiny babes, you found yourself warming to the idea of one day having a child with Aemond. Of course, that was a distant thought; you were only twelve now, and marriage was still years away. Yet, the notion no longer filled you with dread.

As your health improved and your mood lightened, Queen Alicent insisted you return to your princess lessons with Septa Agertha. The strict septa had been happy to resume your lessons, and to your surprise, she seemed kinder and softer than before, guiding you patiently through your studies.

Despite your busy days, you always tried to carve out time for Aemond. You cherished those moments, whether you were reading together in the library, basking in the sunlight of the gardens, or watching him train with his sword. Today, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he took down Aegon during practice, his movements fluid and precise.

As you entered your chambers, your eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Aemond standing amidst the soft pinks of your room, a striking contrast in his dark green leather. He looked entirely out of place, and the nervous smile tugging at his lips only deepened your suspicion.

"It is highly improper for you to visit my chambers so late, Aemond," you teased, crossing your arms as you arched an eyebrow. "Does Ser Rowan know about this?"

Aemond’s smile grew as he replied with a hint of mystery, "Ser Rowan does not know all the entrances to your room."

You rolled your eyes, amused but unconvinced. However, something behind Aemond caught your attention—a small object sitting on your table. You moved closer, but Aemond swiftly stepped in front of you, his hands gently resting on your waist to stop you.

"Wait," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "Before you get angry… don’t. Just trust me."

You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Happy Nameday," Aemond said quietly, almost as if he were embarrassed by the gesture.

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Aemond, my nameday was a week ago."

"Still," he muttered, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

With curiosity getting the better of you, you gently pushed past him, approaching the table where the mysterious item sat. There, on the table, was a small brazier pot, the kind used for hatching dragon eggs. Your heart quickened as you slowly lifted the lid.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips when you saw the sparkly navy blue egg resting inside, hot as ever. "Aemond," you whispered, feeling a mix of exasperation and affection.

Aemond stepped up behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I know. But you know what they say—fourth time’s the charm."

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him. Your noses were practically touching as you corrected him, "It’s third time’s the charm, you stubborn idiot."

"I also brought strawberry cakes," Aemond said, seeing that the sight of the dragon egg had done little to lift your spirits.

You tilted your head with a small smile, "You know the way to my heart, Aemond Targaryen."

The two of you found yourselves lounging on your grand pink canopy bed, nestled among the cushions, feasting on strawberry cakes that Aemond had brought for you. The scent of the sweet berries filled the air, and for a moment, all seemed simple and light in your world.

“Aemond, I’ve been thinking,” you began thoughtfully, wiping a bit of cream from your lips.

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “My, my, that is worrisome,” he teased, his voice playful.

You shot him a sharp glare before rolling your eyes. With a lift of your chin, you said firmly, “I’ve decided our first child must be a girl.”

Aemond blinked at you, stunned by the declaration. “You understand we do not get to choose, yes?”

You waved his words away dismissively, as if the very idea of leaving such an important matter to chance was absurd. “I believe if I am firm in my belief, then I shall have the choice,” you replied with the confidence only a twelve-year-old could muster.

Aemond gave you a long, bemused look, as if weighing your words for any sense. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “Why?” he asked, indulging your fanciful notion.

“Do not mistake me,” you began, leaning back into the pillows with a thoughtful expression. “I love both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys equally. And if we were to have a son, I would love him just as much.”

A big, silly grin spread across your face as you continued, “But I want a daughter. I want to dress her up, match with her, and have her follow me around in little gowns.”

Aemond gave you a knowing look. “You have Jaehaera for that.”

You pouted dramatically, the cake in your hand momentarily forgotten. “It’s not the same. Jaehaera is Helaena’s, not mine.”

Aemond chuckled softly at your logic. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, raising his hands as if surrendering. “I shall pray to the Seven for us to be blessed with a daughter first.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Perhaps a daughter and a son at the same time?”

You glared at him, flicking a cake crumb in his direction. “Why would you wish something like that upon me? Twins?” You shook your head vehemently.

Aemond’s amused smile only widened as he met your deathly serious gaze. “You’re right, my bad,” he said with a chuckle, brushing the crumb off his tunic.

You huffed, but your irritation quickly melted away as you stuffed another bite of cake into your mouth, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his teasing, you knew that Aemond would pray to the Seven for whatever you wished—even if that meant asking for something as impossible as choosing your firstborn's gender.

You glanced down at the strawberry cake in your hand, scrunching your nose. "With all this cake you keep bringing me, Aemond, I’m going to grow fat."

Aemond gave you a thoughtful look, his expression serious yet teasing at the same time. "And? Do they not say that more is always better?"

You tried to hold back your amusement, but despite your best effort, a smile tugged at your lips. You sighed, shaking your head as you chuckled softly. "You’re incorrigible."

Aemond tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. "Perhaps. But I speak the truth." His eye glimmered as they held yours for a moment longer. "A bit of extra weight would not lessen your beauty."

You blushed, looking away from him as you fiddled with the edge of your dress. "You say that now," you muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but your heart felt light.

"I shall always say that," Aemond countered smoothly, his voice unwavering, as if he truly meant every word. "No matter what the years bring, you will always be perfect to me."

A warmth spread through you, making your cheeks burn even more. You tried to dismiss it, waving a hand at him. "You just want me to keep eating cake so I’ll be too heavy to run away when you’re being impossible."

Aemond smiled at that, his violet eye gleaming with mirth. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing you happy. And if it takes cake to do that, so be it."

You laughed then, shaking your head at him. "You’ve won this time, but I’ll have my revenge when I’m too fat to walk."

Aemond smirked, leaning closer to you with a satisfied look. "I’ll carry you, then."

You tilted your head, rolling your eyes at Aemond, wondering why he was looking at you like that, as if the world had shifted between the two of you. Somehow, without realizing it, you had drifted closer, your faces mere inches apart. You could feel his breath, soft and warm, as he leaned in further. His eye fluttered shut, and your heart skipped a beat as you sensed what was coming.

Before anything could happen, your hand instinctively shot up, covering his mouth. Aemond froze, opening his eye wide to see you staring at him with confusion. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice full of suspicion.

He mumbled something beneath your hand, and you lowered it, giving him a curious look as you tried to catch his words.

Clearing his throat, clearly embarrassed, he murmured, "I was trying to kiss you."

You squinted at him, still doubtful. "Aemond," you began cautiously, "Septa Agertha says if a maiden and a man kiss, she’ll become with child. And I think we should at least wait until the twins’ first nameday before we bring another baby into the castle."

Aemond’s lips pressed together tightly, trying to suppress a laugh. His ears turned red as he responded, "Maidens do not become pregnant because of kisses."

"Then how do they become with child?" you asked, raising a challenging brow, your tone daring him to contradict what you’d been taught.

Aemond’s face flushed deeply, and his gaze flickered away in sheer embarrassment. He seemed to search for a way to avoid the topic. "Your Septa will tell you... in time," he muttered, clearly hoping to escape further questioning.

You were about to protest, about to accuse your Septa of lying again—how could you trust her after she said that about kissing? But the sight of Aemond’s bright red cheeks and the way he squirmed told you it was better to drop it. So, with a sigh, you decided to change the subject. "So then," you asked, "why do people kiss if it’s not to make babies?"

Aemond shifted awkwardly before murmuring, "To show affection. It’s what people do when they love each other. Married couples especially."

You raised a skeptical eyebrow, folding your arms. "I’ve never seen my mother and father kiss. And I’ve never seen Grandsire and the Queen kiss either."

Aemond made an exasperated sound, running a hand through his hair. "Well... they’re different," he said, sounding both frustrated and amused.

You tilted your head again, considering his words. "Different how?"

"Just different," Aemond replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "Not everyone is... affectionate like that."

"So, you want to kiss me because you’re affectionate?" you teased, a small smirk growing on your face.

Aemond’s ears burned again, and he glanced away, muttering under his breath. "Something like that..."

You tilted your head, watching him with amusement before shrugging nonchalantly. "Alright," you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "You may kiss me."

Aemond's head snapped back toward you, his eye wide in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, unsure if you were being serious.

You nodded, offering him a small smile before puckering your lips in a way you thought was appropriate for a kiss. "Go on, then," you said, your lips pursed in a dramatic display.

Aemond stared at you for a moment, utterly bewildered. "You can't stare at me like that," he finally managed, his voice a little strangled as he glanced away again, clearly nervous.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, "Alright, Aemond," and then did as he requested, squeezing your eyes shut. You sat there, waiting for him to make the first move, your heart thumping in your chest even though you tried to act as though it didn’t matter at all.

The room felt strangely quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. You could hear Aemond shift slightly, feel the warmth of him as he leaned in closer. The air between you felt charged, as if something important was about to happen.

His breath ghosted across your lips, soft and hesitant, and your heart skipped a beat. But just as you thought the kiss was going to happen, Aemond hesitated again.

"Are you certain?" he whispered, his voice soft and uncertain, as if he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.

Without opening your eyes, you replied with a huff, "Yes, Aemond. Just do it."

Aemond finally leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours in the briefest of kisses. It was awkward and tentative, like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but it was soft and sweet in its own way.

When he pulled back, you opened your eyes, blinking at him. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring at each other in silence, unsure of what to say or do next.

"Well?" Aemond asked, his voice low, his cheeks still a little flushed. "How was that?"

You pursed your lips, considering. "It wasn’t so bad," you admitted, then smiled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "But I don't think that’ll make me with child, so Septa Agertha must be wrong after all."

Aemond let out a small, relieved chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No," he agreed quietly, "that won't make you with child."

You both shared a soft laugh, the awkwardness melting away as you realized it wasn’t as strange or nerve-wracking as you thought it would be.

Still, after a moment, you tilted your head and added thoughtfully, "Mayhaps we can try again another time... just to make sure."

Aemond’s face broke into a wide grin at your words, and he shook his head, still amused. "Whenever you like," he promised softly, his voice full of warmth.

Aemond’s smile remained as you shared a quiet moment, a comfortable warmth settling between the two of you. His words, soft and full of promise, made your heart flutter a little, though you tried to ignore it. Just as you were about to speak, a strange sound filled the room.

You paused, frowning in confusion as the sound persisted. Aemond’s brow furrowed, and he gave you the same puzzled look. "What is that?" you asked, your voice low and uncertain.

Before Aemond could answer, the sound came again, louder this time—a soft, irregular rattling, like something gently tapping against metal. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise, your eyes settling on the small brazier pot resting on the table beside your chaise.

The pot was trembling slightly, the lid shifting ever so subtly as if something within was stirring to life.

You exchanged a wary glance with Aemond, both of you too stunned to speak. Hope flickered in your chest, a fragile, cautious feeling that you tried desperately to suppress, even though it grew with each passing second. You didn’t want to feel it—not again. Not after so many failed attempts, so many disappointments.

But as the rattling continued, you couldn’t help but let that hope bloom, filling your chest with an almost painful intensity. You could feel Aemond's steady gaze on you, as if he too shared your mixture of anticipation and disbelief. His hand lightly touched your arm, offering silent reassurance as you both stood frozen in place.

Finally, the rattling grew louder, more insistent. Aemond moved first, stepping cautiously toward the brazier pot, his movements careful, as if approaching something fragile and dangerous all at once.

Your heart pounded in your ears as Aemond gently reached out and lifted the lid.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. You held your breath, waiting, expecting the worst, but then—

A small, sharp crack echoed through the air, and your breath hitched in your throat. Aemond’s eye widened in astonishment as he stepped back slightly, motioning for you to come closer.

With shaky steps, you moved forward, peering into the brazier pot. Inside, nestled among the glowing embers, was the dragon egg—your dragon egg. And it was moving.

Tiny cracks began to spread across the surface, like delicate lines etched into stone. A tiny chirp escaped from within, soft yet insistent, and your heart leapt in your chest.

Aemond’s voice was barely a whisper, full of wonder. "It’s hatching."

You didn’t dare speak, afraid that if you did, the fragile moment would shatter. Instead, you watched in awe as the cracks grew wider, the shell breaking apart bit by bit.

Slowly, a tiny snout poked through the shell, followed by a pair of gleaming, sapphire-blue eyes that blinked up at you curiously.

Aemond’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to smile.

"It’s really happening," you whispered, barely able to contain the joy welling up inside you.

Aemond stood beside you, his gaze never leaving the hatchling, and he nodded, his voice low but filled with a kind of quiet awe. "Yes, it is."

The tiny dragon stretched its delicate wings, the membrane translucent in the firelight, revealing the rich, dark blue that shimmered against the glow. It was so small, fragile even, yet there was a certain strength in its movements, as though it knew its place in the world. Its scales appeared nearly black in the dim light, but with each flicker of the brazier’s flame, a glint of deep sapphire blue reflected back at you, shimmering like the ocean at night.

You couldn't hold back the soft laugh that bubbled from your lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy. Your laughter caught the attention of the little dragon, whose head turned sharply towards you. It blinked, tilting its head, studying you with wide, curious eyes before letting out a sharp screech in response. The sound, though high-pitched, was surprisingly strong for such a tiny creature.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you knelt closer, your hand trembling slightly as you reached out, but you stopped just short of touching it. It felt too precious, too delicate to handle without care.

"Hello," you murmured, your voice soft and gentle, as though speaking to an infant. "Aren't you absolutely beautiful."

The little dragon blinked again, watching you intently. Its tiny nostrils flared as it took in the scent of the air, its wings fluttering slightly as it made a sound that almost resembled a purr. You couldn't help but smile wider, your heart swelling with affection.

Aemond crouched down beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he watched the dragon with a look of pride and admiration. "You were meant for each other," he said, his voice filled with certainty.

You looked up at him, tears still brimming in your eyes, and nodded. "I think so," you whispered.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in quiet awe, watching as the dragon stretched its limbs, adjusting to the world it had just entered. It was strange how something so small could carry such weight, as if this tiny creature already held within it the potential for something great, something magnificent.

As the little dragon shifted closer to you, its warmth radiated through the air, and you felt a bond forming, something deeper than words could express. This was more than just a pet, more than a companion. This was a piece of your soul, reflected in scales and wings, fire and strength.

Aemond’s smile softened as he watched you with the newborn dragon, his gaze flicking between the two of you with a quiet fondness. "What will you name it?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

You beamed at the little creature before you, a warmth blooming in your chest as you finally dared to reach out. Gently, you brushed your knuckle against her soft, dark scales. She—yes, she was definitely a girl, you were certain of it—immediately leaned into your touch, her tiny body pressing closer, as if seeking comfort from your warmth.

"Treasure," you whispered, the name slipping from your lips without hesitation. A wide, contented smile grew on your face. "Her name is Treasure."

Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected name, but then a grin spread across his face, lighting up his features. Of course, you would name your dragon something soft, something sweet and endearing. It was just like you to choose a name that carried such a feeling of warmth, rather than something fierce and grand.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Treasure?" he repeated, his eye twinkling with affection as he looked at you.

You looked up at him, still stroking the dragon’s scales, and nodded firmly. "Yes. Because she’s my treasure," you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Aemond’s grin only widened as he crouched down beside you again, watching as Treasure nestled closer to your hand, clearly content with the name and her newfound bond with you. "A fitting name," he said quietly, and in that moment, as he watched you and your dragon together, he could see how the two of you were meant for each other.

Treasure let out a soft, sleepy sound, curling closer to the warmth of your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The bond between you and your dragon was only beginning, but it was already something special—something that would only grow stronger with time.

this is anything but the end

guyssss help, im literally crying thinking about young rhaenyra (milly) and reader as a baby. how reader probably became rhaenyra's new best friend and was the only thing keeping her going in court. And how rhaenyra would talk to her as a full-grown person, while reader, being a baby, would just babble back. And how rhaenyra would probably walk around taking her baby everywhere and riding on Syrax with her. BYE lol that just makes it all sadder

(side note in my head ive decided to give reader/y/n the most basic hotd name and name her aemma. because when she has her own daughter with aemond, she'll name her laenora after her father)

Treasure The dragon

I can just imagine reader doing that Sweeney Todd trend with Treasure:

ohh mr.todd 💋 i'm so happy 💋 I could - 💋 eat you up I really could. you know what I like to do mr. todd 💋 what I dream 💋

Ser Rowan

(it's rick grimes because I say so) (note I've only watched two episodes of the walking dead)

Reader's Mind in a nutshell

(I feel if I made this into a full time fic, reader could lowkey have saved the family and avoided the dance of the dragons entirely)

Hope you enjoyed!

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@evernores @jouryuu @dbd-mommy @g-cf2020 @sl-ut @radiantdanvers @sillysillygyalsmh @callsignwidow @missyviolet123 @thelastemzy @lechat-rouge @sonichkkaaascreams @djarinsstuff @yovrnewromantic @waiting-fortheupdate @strawberymilktea @ninihrtss @kenqki @winter-solstice24 @darlingcharling-blog @feyresqueen @momoewn @literishdegree99 @xxxkat3xxx @6000-fandoms

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond x you #hotd x reader

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ovaryacted · 6 months ago

Text

HOMECOMING

PAIRING: Jackson! Joel Miller x afab! reader || WC: 1.8k

SYNOPSIS: After a long day of patrol, Joel comes home later than he said he would be back. You are just happy to welcome him back into your arms.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: FLUFF. Suggestive content - 18+. Established relationship. Soft & affectionate Joel Miller. Ambiguous age gap (Joel is in his late 50s, reader is 25+). Mentions of early pregnancy. Cute stuff. Banter and teasing. No use of y/n.

A/N: Hey there, been a while. In case y'all forgot, yes I do still write LMAO. This is a little something that I wrote miraculously on my free time, and it is my first Joel Miller piece. I'm also slowly getting back into writing so pls be nice! I did originally write this with the new Pedro Pascal picture as Joel in mind, but I'm a gamer Joel type of girl at heart so that's what I went with. Hopefully, it is enjoyable for those who choose to read it. Any likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

➣ TLOU was created by a zionist and is based off of the Israeli occupation of Palestine. Please refer to this link to learn how you can help the Palestinian people.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

Night fell over Jackson, soothing and quiet as it usually was. You’d think after some time, you’d get used to the stillness that often consoled others in a world full of unsettling clicks and gunfire, but you found yourself troubled with the calmness that followed once the sun went down. The change of the seasons propelled a temperature shift outside; bitter winter exchanged for the rebirth of spring, which hopefully meant the sun would stay in the sky just a little bit longer.

Your face nuzzled into the pillow beneath you, the material not yours to claim, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. Digging your nose further into the bedding, you subconsciously chased the faint scent of pinewood and gunpowder, one of the few things that eased your anxiety. It was a smell you got used to recognizing over the past few years, not that you’ve been keeping count.

Despite the warmth the sheets provided you as you rested on the left side of the bed, your body felt cold, missing a familiar set of strong arms and a welcoming chest pressing up against you. He had told you before he left for patrol that he’d be back before sundown, that was the plan anyway. But you knew better than anyone that stepping outside the protective gates of Jackson always left room for the unpredictable.

In the haze of your dreams, you faintly heard the click of the front door opening and closing, the floorboards of the stairs creaking with the ghost of muted footsteps. You stirred in bed, ears trained to pinpoint the noise, yet too stubborn to wake up entirely. A breeze entered the bedroom before you sensed something else sharing the space.

That’s when you felt the phantom touch of plush lips skimming along your hairline. If you weren’t awake then, you certainly were now.

“Joel?” A call of his name equivalent to a whimper at the sudden contact you craved. You caught the slight intake of breath and the exhale that followed.

“It’s me darlin’. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Joel spoke quietly, the peaceful baritone of his voice awakening you fully. As you sighed, you met his tired gaze with your own, bruised knuckles raising to brush your cheekbone affectionately.

“Things went okay on the patrol?” You questioned him, pleased that he was here with you in one piece rather than focusing on the fact that he came later than you’d like.

“Yeah, had to check something out with Tommy to be sure before coming back. I’m sorry honey, didn't want to make you stay up for me.”

Even if it was unintended, Joel felt guilty whenever he didn’t stick to his word. He was not much of a virtuous man, lived a large part of the past two-plus decades giving less of a shit about honesty and ethics. But when it came to you, it killed him when he couldn’t follow through on his promises, even if things weren’t within his control. The last thing Joel wanted was to upset you or make you worry, but no matter how many times he reassured you of his return, you still tried your hardest to wait for him to come back home, back to you.

“It’s okay, I’m just happy you’re here,” you blinked slowly as his voice filtered through the lagged mess of your head. Leaning your face towards his hand, you kissed the inside of his palm. “Go freshen up and come to bed; I’m cold.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled with a smile at your forgiveness, parting from you for a second and heading to the bathroom, not planning to make you wait any longer.

You watched his silhouette from where you lay on the bed, fluttering your eyes closed at the sound of running water. When the door opened again, Joel’s broad figure returned wearing a worn-down flannel and some fleece pants he had snagged long ago.

“Scoot,” he jutted his chin to gesture to the right side of the mattress, your side, suggesting to reclaim his on the left. Shifting to the right, you let him slip into the bed feet first, hauling the sheets to cover the both of you. A bulky arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you close to him, your body molding to his like a missing puzzle piece.

“Not too far now,” Joel grinned as you nestled right into his warm chest, seeking his attention and attempting to siphon more of his warmth. It takes you off guard how your nerves instantly settled once you had Joel near you again. In his arms, that was where you belonged—protected, loved, safe.

“I missed you,” you mumbled, eyes shutting to breathe in his typical musk. One of his hands cradled your lower back, thumb running circles into your skin.

“I missed you too, darlin’. Too damn much.” Joel kissed your forehead, drawing lines up and down your back with his fingertips.

His hand moved again from behind you to the front of your body, palming your stomach protectively. A smile crept up on his face as he felt your tummy under the material of the flannel you stole from him, the only thing you preferred for pajamas. The gentle curve of your belly was not yet prominent enough to be overly detectable, but he knew what you carried. Precious cargo. That’s what he called it after you both adjusted to the shock of adding to Jackson’s current population count.

“Still feelin’ sick?” Joel asked you in the room’s darkness, his eyes shifting to watch over your facial features. The moonlight illuminated the edge of your jaw and the roundness of your cheeks, and his chest ached at the thought of witnessing other growing changes over the next couple of months.

“Sometimes. It bothers me, but nothing I can’t handle.” You reassured him the best way you knew how, having to rely on Maria’s advice for all things related to childcare and Ellie being your new overly protective guard and nurse when Joel wasn’t around.

If someone had told you that you’d find yourself alive after the apocalypse in a safe community and pregnant at that, you’d consider them crazy. Yet here you were, carrying a man’s child when you least expected it, a man years older than you with memories of a reality you couldn’t experience or remember. But you didn’t mind; the end of the world didn’t leave much room for strict morals anyway.

Make the most of it. You don’t know when you’ll miss something once it’s gone.

Joel had told you that after the first few patrols you had with him once you adjusted to Jackson, growing comfortable with the stoic and quiet man who grabbed your attention everywhere he went. He shared stories of a time before the world fell apart, discussing things like watching the sunset, listening to music from artists you’ve never heard of, and sweet treats he missed tasting. Things changed after the seventh patrol together, where you saw him smile for the first time after successfully hunting some game for the town.

That night, one thing led to another. It started after some drinks, a hungry and messy kiss on your doorstep that led to clothes on the bedroom floor, and hands pawing at one another. You woke up the next morning with an arm wrapped around your waist and his nose rubbing the back of your neck.

Simply put, you haven’t left since.

“Oh, I know. Can handle a whole lot, strong woman you are.” Joel taunted you a bit, his memory fleeting momentarily and recalling the spitfire you always were with him in particular. He could never seem to tame your spunk and attitude, but he grew to love it like the rest of you.

“Mhmm, real strong, if you ask me.” You held his gaze with a gleam of mischief, bringing your body closer to his wide chest and tilting your chin upwards, silently asking for more than a cuddle.

“You tryin’ to tell me something I don’t already know?”

“I don’t know. Am I?” You were a tease, always have been, jerking Joel’s chain more than he cared to admit.

“Those hormones are messing with your head, darlin’. Got you acting feisty,” he smirked, shifting nearer to your face.

Curious hands reached up to curl through his thick, graying curls. The contrasting streaks along his temple became more noticeable as time passed, matching the graying beard you’ve come to love and adore. He hesitated to let his hair grow out initially, thinking he’d look too much like his younger brother. Much convincing later, paired with hiding the shears, you got the desired result, and now you were lucky enough to enjoy the fruits of your labor.

The kiss was velvety as it was intimate, your tongue lining his bottom lip before he groaned, granting you entrance into his mouth. You swallowed the rumble he released, drawing a path of your touch from his neck down to his lower abdomen. Antsy fingers itched to skim the waistband of the fleece that concealed him, reaching close to the hardness you felt before he seized your hand away.

“Aht aht, no. As much as I want you there, it’s bedtime.” Joel didn’t necessarily want you to stop. Hell, if it were up to him, he’d let you go to town on him however you wanted. But his energy levels were dwindling, and all he wanted to do after a long day was get some proper rest with you in his arms.

“But-”

“Sweetheart, if you let this old man sleep, I’ll wake you up to a real nice surprise in the mornin’.” It was an effortless proposition, easy to keep you at bay until the next day and enough to curb your insatiable appetite.

“Promise?” You beat your lashes at him, knowing the last thing Joel would do was deliberately not provide for your needs, even if that meant having to keep up with you physically.

“Pinkie swear.” Joel gave you another peck before letting you get comfy against his chest once more, cuddling into him as much as your growing belly would allow without being squished. You started to drift off as sleep called to you, listening to the gentle rhythm of soft beating in your ear.

“Breakfast too, Miller.” You murmured to him, peeping how he laughed in the dark with his eyes closed. The pleasant and lively sound made you smile and your heart pound.

“Oh, I’ll feed you. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”

The peace in your bedroom matched the serenity that fell over Jackson. Now that you had Joel wrapped around you, you didn’t mind how quiet it was. So long as you have him, you can handle anything that comes your way.

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

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kwanisms · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober 「10:25」 — l.minho

» stray kids menu | lee know menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ alien!Minho × fem!Reader wc: 5.4k summary: After Minho’s return to Earth, Y/N has spent the last year traveling the galaxy with her alien boyfriend. While exploring a tropical moon orbiting a massive planet in a binary star system, Y/N accidentally disturbs a cluster of bulbous purple luminescent flowers that release a glowing purple dust that sticks to her clothes and skin. She returns to Minho’s ship hoping that the dust isn’t toxic and will wash off but as she soon finds out, the dust is a very sparkly and very potent aphrodisiac and it has a profound effect on not only her, but on Minho as well. genres/themes/au: fluff, smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is CLOSED! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: *eminem voice* guess who's back, back again. That's right! alien!Minho from Ninsa is back! If you haven't read the first part, you don't have to but you can find it here! This is gonna make y'all soft but only at the beginning. Things are gonna get hairy for our favorite alien-human couple pretty quickly! So glad to be visiting this au again. I love alien!Minho so much )): tomorrow is the final piece for Stray Kids and is also a sequel for Han's part from last year! Thank you so much for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), sex pollen (f receiving, m receiving), breeding, mild dirty talk, biting (f receiving), minor cumflation (f receiving), impregnation kink, use of pet names (hers: baby, sweetheart, love, cute shit like my star, etc.; his: babe, Min, Minmin, etc.), dom!Minho, sub!Reader, slight brat!Reader. I think I got all of them, but let me know if I missed any! kinks: Sex pollen + breeding dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Baby… you need me that badly? ❜❜

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A soft breeze blew through the trees, the leaves rustling and dancing overhead as you hiked through the dense grass. Glancing to the left, you noticed the sky starting to take on a darker hue. You pulled your sleeve back, checking the dial of your watch that read it was getting later in the day.

You should be heading back; you were heading back. It wasn’t entirely your fault that you kept getting distracted by the scenery. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen in any science fiction movie or show. The lush forest of the alien moon, orbiting a massive desert planet, wasn’t something you could have ever imagined. Minho had said the planet was called Kojar 6, orbiting a large star called Kojar which was part of the Kojar-Faline binary star system. There were 7 planetoids, Kojar 6 being the largest of the pack with two moons.

You had wanted to visit Kojar 6 but Minho had explained that there was nothing on the planet anymore. Nothing but sand being whipped around by the intense winds. Winds that could potentially rip a person to shreds. There were no people, no buildings, no animals on the surface. Only sand.

He promised the moons were much more interesting.

The first moon was an icy wasteland that reminded you of Hoth from the Star Wars series. Minho refused to land there, calling it a frozen and barren wasteland like Kojar 6 only instead of sand, it was ice and snow. That moon was called Ciyebos. The second, the one you were currently visiting, was a tropical world called Zocunia. It was a lush, vibrant jungle world not unlike that of Pandora in the Avatar franchise.

The flora and fauna were both incredibly unique, with very few predators. The few that did exist, you were confident in dealing with should you come across them. Since bringing you along to Ninsa, Minho had been insistent that you learn to defend yourself as he couldn’t always be around to protect you.

Much of the flora was incredibly beautiful, looking like something out of a fantasy world or a science fiction movie. Vibrants blues, purples, greens, and even turquoises, and pinks. Back home, on Earth, the more vibrant something was, the more dangerous it was. On other planets, that rule didn’t always apply.

As you continued to trudge through the knee high thick green grass, something round, bulbous, and bright caught your eye. You froze, turning your head to find nestled at the base of a tree that extended tens of feet towards the sky was a cluster of plants.

You carefully walked over, stepping over exposed roots and boulders. As you reached it, you knelt down, inspecting the plant. You’d long learned not to just touch things after contacting a rash from a flower that looked incredibly pretty and harmless. Minho luckily knew a remedy and was able to get rid of it with relative ease.

You instead raised the camera in your hands, a gift from your alien fiance from his world that he’d given you on your one year anniversary. Your phone could have worked for pictures but the device would only survive space travel for so long whereas this device was much better designed for space travel.

You snapped a few pictures, the shutter clicking as you pressed the button with the flowers in focus.

Looking up from the LCD display screen of the camera, you inspected the flowers with more scrutiny.

They were glowing, having some sort of bioluminescence that a lot of flora on this moon seemed to exhibit. An evolutionary trait, Minho had explained when you first asked him about it.

“Much of this world’s flora has evolved to glow at night. It’s both a defense mechanism and a hunting tactic. Half of the lunar year, this moon is bathed in darkness, hiding behind Kojar 6. The bioluminescence lets the plants still feed and ward off predators at the same time.”

You loved listening to him as he seemed to be full of knowledge you’d never be able to learn on your own. He’d promised to take you to the libraries on Ninsa when you eventually landed there. Minho had promised that he’d take you to his home world, let you see his life and be part of it.

It took Minho three years to return to Earth and find you after you left Derry and your old life behind. He asked you to travel with him. To leave Earth behind and travel to Ninsa with him. He explained how the three years apart had been hell and he didn’t want to return to his home without you.

The opportunity to travel was one you wanted more than anything so you didn’t need much persuasion and readily agreed to leave behind your life to be with him. To see something far beyond what anyone could ever dream of. It was all you wanted more than anything in the universe.

It wasn’t long after you left Earth that Minho professed his love for you, asking you to spend the rest of your lives together to which you immediately said yes. You had been on an alien planet, enjoying the sunset when he asked you out of the blue. He didn’t have a ring to give you but he promised that the moment you landed on Ninsa, he would get you one.

You tilted your head, looking at the translucent membrane of the bulbous flower, a slight swirling inside, visible only due to the bioluminescence source deep in the center of the plant. As you leaned closer, the light started pulsating and you instantly drew back. “Alright,” you said softly. “Time to go.”

You snapped one more picture before shutting off the camera and pulling at the lens cover to place it back over the lens but no matter how hard you tugged, it wouldn’t come loose from the holder. “Goddamn it,” you grumbled as you tried to pry it off. “What the fu- oh shit!”

Just as you were pulling, it finally came loose but slipped from your grip and fell onto the flowers, bouncing off the bulbous membrane and falling to the ground. You scrambled to pick it up, snapping it onto the lens and looking up with wide eyes as the translucent flower trembled. Before you could draw back, the leaves popped open into a five petal flower, a cloud of sparkling purple dust exploding from the pressure trapped within.

You stumbled backwards sputtering as you waved your hand, trying to diffuse the dust and coughing. ‘Fuck,’ you mentally cursed, looking over your clothes, noticing the glittery dust had settled and as you tried to brush it off, it only seemed to spread more along the gray body suit Minho had given you.

You looked around and sighed before getting to your feet slowly. “Guess I’m gonna need to shower,” you whispered to yourself and started the walk back to camp where the ship was. You could use the outdoor shower Minho had set up for the two of you and hopefully he could grab you a spare suit from the ship.

You used your clean hand to rub your nose, a tickle settling in as you headed in the direction of camp, hoping whatever this dust was that it wasn’t toxic.

Minho took a deep breath, keeping his eyes forward as he watched the third bhunqoi hop closer and closer to his trap. He’d managed to capture two already and needed a third for dinner. The small lagomorph-like critter turned its head in his direction and Minho froze, hoping he hadn’t been made but when it took one more hop, falling into his pit trap, he knew success.

He sighed a breath of relief, getting up and pushing the leaves blocking his body from sight off and making his way over to look into the pit. It would seem the animal landed in a way that ensured it did not suffer. Minho hated hunting but sometimes it was a necessary evil for survival.

He collected the animal and moved back to his hiding place, grabbing the cloth bag with the wild fruits and vegetables he’d gathered before heading in the direction of camp. He’d allowed you to go off on your own and explore the perimeter surrounding their camp, making sure the stakes were still standing after the storm the night before.

He knew tropical storms on Zocunia were bad this time of year which is why he chose to pick a spot in the forest instead of on a beach or grassland. The trees provided an extra shelter over the ship, not that the hull really needed it.

He’d upgraded his ship upon returning to Ninsa after leaving Earth the first time, ensuring that in the event of any more spontaneous crash landings, the hull would still remain intact.

The Kojar was starting to set, bathing the landscape in an orange-ish golden glow, shadows becoming elongated and more pronounced as he finally reached the ship. His foraging hadn’t taken him far from camp, and hunting had brought him closer as he tried to stay within the perimeter.

Minho reached your base camp relatively quickly and immediately started a fire and prepared the meat for roasting while wondering where you could have gotten to that you would still be gone from camp. He tried not to fear the worst, knowing he prepared you for time on your own but he couldn’t help it. This was an alien planet and while most of the animals were docile, he really didn’t want another incident like the alien wolf encounter.

You had spent a couple days on a beautiful alien planet with him where he couldn’t hold himself back and asked you to marry him when you both returned to his home world. It had been spontaneous and spur of the moment but he meant every word when he said he never wanted to be without you again.

He wanted to start a life with you on Ninsa, get married, buy a house, all the domestic things his friends were starting to do. He wanted all of that with you. Children was another topic you would have to have at some point because while he knew you were biologically compatible, there were other ways of having children. Other ways of starting a family.

As he set up the bhunqoi to roast in the flames, he sat in one of the chairs he’d set up and waited for you to return while he peeled and prepared the fruits he’d managed to forage. He was sure the conversation would happen sooner or later and when it did, things would be much clearer on where you both stood.

You were getting closer to camp as you walked, noticing the small signs you set up for yourself as you trudged through the forest. “When did it get so hot?” you whispered, wiping a bead of sweat from your forehead. As you walked, your body started to feel hotter and hotter. Almost like you had a fever.

Maybe it was the dust you’d come into contact with but you couldn’t be certain. Minho would know more. You just needed to get back to camp. ‘Almost there…’

You stopped briefly to lean against a tree, letting out a pant as your breathing started to increase, your heart rate rising as well. You weren’t sure what was going on and you really hoped whatever was affecting you wasn’t some sort of toxin and that you might be able to sleep it off.

Reaching up, you unzipped the neck of your bodysuit down to the top of your bust, letting out a sigh of relief as the cool air hit your skin, a thin layer of sweat starting to form. It wasn’t much but it was something. You pushed off the tree, starting your hike up again and hoping to reach the camp before the sun set, despite the very pretty bioluminescence.

Your panties were starting to stick to you and though you hoped it was just the sweat, the heat settling in the pit of your stomach told you otherwise. You couldn’t understand it. You were alone in the middle of a jungle on an alien moon. What could possibly have worked you up so much when Minho was somewhere else entirely.

You tried to push the images of your fiancee from your mind as your body started to burn and ache for his touch. ‘Just to help me feel better. Not because I want to fuck or anything,’ you told yourself. You just wanted the heat to end and your body to settle down. ‘Minho will know what to do.’

Minho’s ears picked up on the sound of twigs snapping and looked up, seeing a form moving through the shadow of the canopy, a smile forming as you entered his line of sight, ambling along. His silly, clumsy, little human fiancee. He watched as you finally emerged from the understory, a smirk on his face. “Welcome back,” he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

His smile fell immediately as you stumbled forward, nearly falling. It was then that he noticed the feverish look on your face. There was no way that was good. “Y/N, sweetheart?” he asked, voice laced with concern as he got up and started to walk over, crossing the distance to catch you as your knees gave out. “M’okay,” you murmured, fingers gripping his biceps as he held you up.

“Like hell you are,” Minho growled as he helped you back over to the ship. “What happened?” he asked, helping you into a chair by the fire. “I-I don’t know,” you breathed heavily, swallowing the lump in your throat. The burning sensation had spread, an ache settling between your thighs, the gusset of your panties was beyond soaked by this point and you knew it wasn’t from sweat.

Minho pressed his palm against your forehead, clicking his tongue as he measured your temperature in the most basic of ways. “You’re burning up,” he noted. “You need to get in the show--” his voice trailed off as he noticed a purplish glittery dust on your clothes. Glancing down, he could see that it had transferred to his hands and clothes. “What is this?” he asked, glancing up and noticing the dust on your cheeks and nose.

“I dropped the camera lens cap into this cluster of flowers,” you panted. “I took pictures of it,” you added, pointing at the camera case. Minho shook his head. “Don’t worry about that right now, my star,” he said softly. “Let’s get you into the shower.”

Minho helped you up, leading you over to the outdoor shower he’d set up and helped you peel out of your suit before heading for the ship’s entrance, taking your suit with him and putting it in the wash. He stripped himself, adding his clothes to the wash as well and changing into some spare clothing.

Once back outside, he returned to the fire, turning the roasted bhunqoi over and sitting back.

He was thankful he’d taken the suit off as he started to grow warm. He sat for a moment, the heat settling in his senses, spreading throughout his body. It was a burning desire unlike anything he’d ever felt before. ‘What is wrong with you, idiot?’ he berated himself. Was it the thought of you being naked in the outdoor shower? It wasn’t like he wasn’t used to being intimate with you.

Since leaving earth and setting a course for Ninsa, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off you at all. It was nothing new. So why was he so hot right now? His thoughts were interrupted as his eyes fell on the camera case and got up, crossing the distance to grab it and unzipped the pouch, pulling out the camera and pressing the button to turn it on.

The screen lit up, displaying the brand logo before going black, a little window popping up to remind him that the lens cap was still on. Minho ignored it, opening the gallery instead. He scrolled through the photos, a small smile on his face as he saw what you had seen.

He cleared his throat, feeling his pants tighten. ‘What the hell?’ he asked himself as he looked down. He tried to ignore the obvious tent growing in his pants, uncertain of what was causing it. It’s like his body was acting on its own accord. The thought of joining you in the shower crossed his mind and he grimaced. ‘This is hardly the time,’ he told himself as he tried to push the thoughts aside.

He returned his focus to the camera, scrolling through the pictures until he stopped on an image of the flowers you must have been talking about. They weren’t like anything he’d seen before. The bioluminescence was familiar, but the translucent milky membrane and the swirling purple glitter inside were not.

‘Is it some sort of toxin?’ he wondered, zooming in on the picture to inspect it. Minho turned the camera off as he heard the outdoor shower turn off and set the device aside, getting and grabbing the spare clothes he'd grabbed for you and walked over.

You pulled back the curtain, peeking out at him. Your eyes were glossed over, not unlike when he had you spread out underneath him. “I brought you some clean clothes,” he said softly. “And this.” He held up a clean towel. You thanked him, taking the towel and dropping the curtain back in place as you wrapped yourself up.

“Did you bring any shoes?” you asked, pulling back the curtain and looking up at him. Minho nodded, holding out the slides you'd brought with you from home. You thanked him, slipping them on and stepping out of the shower. The cool air felt nice against your burning skin, heat still coursing through your veins and pooling in your belly.

Minho tore his gaze from the exposed skin of your shoulder, trying to ignore the way the droplets of water rolled down your skin. He handed the clean clothes to you before reaching his hand up to feel your forehead. His hand was warm against your skin as he pressed his palm against your head. “You're still burning up,” he murmured.

He took your free hand in his, raising it to press a tender kiss to the back. “Go inside and lie down. I'll come get you once it's done.” You leaned into him, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “Mm,” you hummed. “Come with me.”

Minho chuckled, taking your face in his hands and raising your head. “I'll burn dinner if I do that,” he said with a grin before leaning in to press his lips to yours. He intended for the kiss to be soft, gentle. What he hadn't expected was your reaction.

You leaned into the kiss, pressing against him and moaning. It made his cock twitch against his pants and he had to force himself to pull back. “It's getting chilly out here,” he murmured, rubbing your arms. “Go inside and get dressed,” he added, gently pushing you in the direction of the door.

You grumbled, almost getting what you wanted before Minho took it away. Begrudgingly, you made your way into the ship, the door shutting behind you. You walked over to the bed, setting down the clothes and slipping off the slides. As you started to unwrap the towel, an idea planted itself into your head.

You'd just have to deal with it yourself.

Minho pulled the roasted bhunqoi from the fire, inspecting it carefully. Pleased with the results, he removed both from the fire and got up, setting them aside as he made his way to the ship. The whole time you'd been inside, he'd tried to calm himself, tried to will away the intrusive thoughts of following you inside and having his way with you.

He still didn't know what had gotten into him but the longer he tried to ignore the intense burning desire to fuck you, the stronger it got.

The door to the ship opened with a soft hiss, allowing him to step over the threshold. Once he was clear, it shut with the same soft hiss and Minho walked further into the depths of his ship.

“Dinner's ready,” he called, turning the corner. “Are you feeling any--” he trailed off, eyes widening at the sight before him. “Better?”

You were sitting on the bed, towel still wrapped around you as you looked up at him, eyes wide. Your clothes lay forgotten on the floor. It wasn't just that what had made him freeze up. It was the fact that your hand had disappeared between your thighs.

He'd walked in on you in the middle of touching yourself. “What are you doing?” he asked, eyes dipping to your hand that was currently being squeezed between your thighs and back up to your face. Your glossy eyes looked back at him, a pout on your lips.

“M’sorry,” you whined. “I thought I'd be done before you came in. I'm just so hot. I couldn't take it anymore!” Minho felt his pants tighten as his cock strained against them, aching to be buried inside you instead of your fingers. He'd heard you, but his mind went blank as the scent of your arousal hit him, his rainbow irises flashing once before shifting to purple.

“Spread your legs,” he ordered. Your heart jumped into your throat before settling back in its place, hammering against your ribs. “Wh-what?” you asked as he walked over. “Spread your legs,” he repeated, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, eyes dipping down to look at your thighs and then back up.

“Now.”

You did as he said, slowly spreading your thighs. Minho grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your sex and inspecting your fingers coated in your own arousal. You watched as he glanced up at you and back at your hand before taking your fingers in his mouth, groaning at your taste. “You thought you'd just get yourself off in here when I'm right outside?” he growled, dropping your hand and grabbing your hips with both hands.

You let out a gasp as he scooted you closer to his face, your ass barely sitting on the edge of the bed. “Thought you'd keep all this to yourself?” he whispered, licking his lips as he eyed your pussy. “As if I wouldn't eat you out the second you asked me,” he added with a scoff. He leaned in, licking up your sex slowly, eyes shut as gently savored the taste. He groaned, pulling back to look at you.

“Lie back,” he said, bringing a hand up to push against your shoulder, dragging his fingers down to loosen the towel and free your chest. “M'gonna fuck that fever out of you.”

You leaned back, propping yourself on your elbows as Minho lifted your thighs over his shoulders. He buried his face between your thighs, making you cry out, head falling back as he immediately went for your clit. You were already so wet, your cunt clenching around nothing, aching to be filled.

“Min, baby,” you whined, moving one of your hands to comb through his hair. “You know I love it when you use your tongue, but I really need your cock.” Minho groaned, the lewd sounds of him licking and sucking your clit would normally make you shy away but right now, you didn't care. You really just needed to be fucked.

“Minmin,” you cooed, combing through his hair again, fingers knotting in his hair as he flicked his tongue against you. “Please, baby, please give me your cock,” you whimpered, hips moving in tandem with his tongue. He pulled back, looking up at you with those bright purple irises, his lips and chin coated in your arousal. “Aw, baby…” he murmured, fingers skimming up the inside of your thigh.

“You need me that badly?” he asked. You nodded fervently. “Yes baby,” you breathed. “Please.” Minho couldn’t deny you when you begged so sweetly. He could get used to that. You, lying on your back before him, begging him for his cock.

“You think you can take it so soon?” he asked with a chuckle. You scrambled up, letting the towel fall to the floor as you turned away and bent over, knees spread on the mattress as you all but presented yourself to him. “Yes,” you replied breathlessly. “Want it so bad. Take me.” You could see your boyfriend's eyes gloss over as he was face to face again with your sopping cunt.

“Fine,” he growled, getting to his feet and ripping the shirt off over his head. “No prep, but I don't want to hear you whining about it later,” he added as he hastily unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them along with his underwear down.

His cock sprang free, softly hitting your ass as he grabbed your hips, the tip already leaking. He spat into his hand, coating his length with it before guiding the tip to your hole. Letting out a groan, Minho cursed in Ninsan as he pushed deeper into you, his grip on your hips bruising.

You whined, pushing back on him as sheathing more of his massive cock inside you. The stretch was unlike anything you'd experienced with him before. There was no pain though. Minho stopped and you groaned, finally feeling full. The satisfaction didn't last long though and soon the heat was spreading again.

You needed to be fucked and you needed it now.

“Minmin, please,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”

Hearing your soft cries for him spurred Minho on, forcing him to pull back, half of his cock sliding out before he thrust into you, filling your cunt in one motion. He choked back a moan, nails digging into your skin as he hissed and cursed again. “So fucking good,” he moaned, thrusting again, making your body shift forward, even with his tight grip on your hips. “Taking me so well.”

“Minhooo,” you whined as he set a steady pace, pumping in and out with measured thrusts. “Don't hold back,” you gasped, walls clenching around him. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

Minho groaned, head dropping as you squeezed him. His hips stuttered to a halt. “You can't be serious,” he panted. “Angel, I don't wanna hurt you,” he continued. You shook your head, your skin burning and a thin layer of sweat already coating your body.

“God damn it, Minho,” you snapped, looking over your shoulder at him. “Fuck me like you mean it. I want you to fuck me until I can't walk!” Your tone must have flipped a switch in your boyfriend and he let out a growl, one hand moving to your shoulder and forcing your chest down against the mattress.

Without answering you, he started to thrust faster, hips hitting your ass with renewed attention. He'd been holding back, not wanting to injure you but when you snapped at him like that, it made his mind go blank and the only thing he could think about was fucking you.

Well, fucking you and breeding you.

“Oh my god,” you gasped as he leaned over, now both hands on your shoulders as he kept your chest against the bed, ass up and bouncing with each thrust. “Fuck, feels so good,” you moaned. Minho said nothing, grunting in response as your walls gripped him tighter. “Shit, yes. Just like that!” you mewled, feeling the head of his cock bump into the soft spot inside you, making you see stars.

“Hng, right there! Don't stop, baby!”

Minho let out a growl, hips never faltering for a moment. “God, yes, holy shit!” you gasped, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. A rush of euphoria swept through you but Minho wasn't done. He'd slowed down, fucking you through your orgasm but as you came down from your high, he kept going, hips smacking into yours, the sound of skin against skin drowning out his pants.

“Min, baby?” you moaned, sliding your arms under you to push yourself up. “No,” Minho growled. “Not done!” You let out a moan as he pushed you back down. “Breed,” he growled. “Need to breed.” You groaned loudly as he continued to thrust into you quickly.

“Gonna fill you up. Gonna breed you,” he hissed. Your fingers dug into the sheets, moans turning into cries with each harsh thrust. “Breed, breed,” Minho murmured. You felt his cock twitch inside you, letting out a wanton moan as he slammed into you from behind. “Mm fuck!” he cursed. “Breed, breed, breed,” he chanted softly.

Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, the pleasure both overwhelming and incredible. Your thighs trembled as a second orgasm loomed. “Th-that's right,” you groaned, playing into his words. “Breed me, Min, fill me up. Put a baby in me.”

Minho let out an animalistic growl, fingers curling over your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as he somehow thrust even harder and deeper, making you scream into the sheets, your own fingers curling into the linens. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you heard your boyfriend snarl. “M'gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so much.”

“F-fill me up, Minho, please!” you cried out. “Fuck me. Make me your breeding bitch, Minho. Do it!” Your boyfriend let out a noise that sounded like a mix between a growl and a groan, thrusting into you a few times more before you felt the warm gush of his load spilling into you. “F-fuuuck,” you groaned.

You could feel his cock pressing into your cervix as he pumped you full of his cum. At the same time, you felt the base of his cock swell. ‘Well that’s new,’ you thought as you lifted your head. “Whassat?” you mumbled, letting out a groan as your walls stretched around him.

“S'okay,” he mumbled, leaning down to press kisses all over your shoulders. “Have to keep it all in,” he added. You only then processed that he was still pumping you full of cum. “Minmin?” you asked, trying to push yourself up but he quickly and gently pushed you back down. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Just lie still, baby,” he continued. “Have to stay still. Just for a little while.”

You felt your belly slowly start to swell, more cum filling your walls than you'd even experienced before. You felt one of Minho's hands move to your belly, just under your navel where it had swollen slightly. “Have to stay still, yeah?” he whispered, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Stay still and make sure it takes.”

“Make sure what takes, Min?” you asked softly.

You felt him rub your belly soothingly, his cock twitching inside you. “You said breed you,” he reminded you. And your eyes fluttered shut. “Minho,” you sighed. “We aren’t compatible,” you added as a reminder. You felt him press a kiss to your shoulder. “I know,” he murmured.

“But imagine if we were,” he whispered in your ear. “Imagine what cute babies we’d make.”

The idea of a mini hybrid of you and your alien lover made you smile, a soft sigh escaping you as he continued to press tender kisses to your neck and shoulder. Your eyes opened and you turned your head slightly to glance back at him, resolved to play into his fantasy.

“What if it doesn't take?” you asked softly, a slight pout on your lips. Minho reached his hand up, turning your head more so he could kiss you, pressing kisses to your lips quickly. “If it doesn't take,” he muttered in between kisses.

“Then we try again. After all, I'm still hard and have a lot more cum to give you,” he added with a smirk. “Wanna go again?” you asked, clenching around his cock. “Just to be sure it takes?”

Minho chuckled, pressing a kiss to your cheek as he slowly pulled back, the swelling at the base of his cock having gone down. He gave you a tentative thrust, ignoring the gush of purplish liquid that spilled out of you and ran down your thighs.

It didn't matter if some spilled out, not when he was about to fill you again and again and again. Even if it wouldn’t take, he could dream, right? After all, he figured out halfway through the first session that what you'd come into contact with was an aphrodisiac and he knew it would be a few more hours before it finally wore off.

He’d better make the most of it.

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kittykittyanon · 9 months ago

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ZEEPIE ZEEP AAAAAHAHHHHHHHYHH!!!!!!!!!!

guess who's back. back again. 💃🏾✨

#IM THE SLIM SHADY THE REAL SLIM SHADY— *gets stolen away by a flock of pigeons*#hi guys !! 😄👋🏾#missed y'all heavyyyy <33 #it's a bit ironic how i'm coming back but i am also SICK #like i haven't had a good headache in years this is entirely new #whatever is going around is most 🗣️ certainly🗣️ coming back around #(i am also working. save me.)#<<< their tags!!#shady's back!! tell a friend!!! (watches you get snatched into the sky by pigeons) OH SHIT— SOMEONE GET HER DOWN—#GAHHHH I MISSED YOUUUU WELCOME BACK ZEEMZABEEM!!!#oh m'gee... get well soon!! throwing oranges your way!!#and WORKING?? give this poor lady every dessert she wants #mi GOSH #(also knocking on your window. open up!! heyyy!!! im outside!!! i have honeycomb bread and sugar cookies!!!!!!! let me iiinnnn!!!!!!!! /j)#welcome back; the greatest of greats!!#zeepie beepie!!! zeepie deepie!!!!#kittykitty interactions #kittykitty reblogs

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little-diable · 5 months ago

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A Broken Down Bike and Racing Hearts – Benny Cross (smut)

Well, I watched The Bikeriders yesterday, and I did warn y'all. I simply have to write for Benny (maybe also Johnny?). I haven't read any Benny fics yet, so this may have been done before. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Benny's bike breaks down right in front of the reader's house, who invites him in to stay the night while a thunderstorm rages outside.

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, choking, slight possessiveness

Pairings: Benny Cross x fem!reader (2k words)

Contains no spoilers!

Her eyes followed his every movement. It had only been a handful of minutes since he had broken down with his bike right in front of her house. No words had been shared between them so far. While he kept fumbling with different parts of his bike, she kept smoking her cigarettes, studying the handsome man with piercing eyes.

She didn’t look away once, not as he seemed to give up on fixing his bike with a sigh, not as he placed a cigarette between his plush lips with his gaze set on (y/n). Something about him drew her in. Perhaps it was the cut that told a story of brotherhood, of family united by something thicker than blood. Perhaps it was simply the handsome face she wouldn’t mind seeing every now and then. Whatever it was, it urged her on to finally part her lips.

“I doubt you’ll manage to leave this place tonight.” Her gaze flickered up to the dark sky, knowing that it’d start raining any minute now. The guy wordlessly followed her gaze while blowing out a thick blue cloud of smoke matching hers.

“Is that an invitation to stay at your place for the night?” His voice was raspy, perfectly matching the growing smirk finding its way to his lips.

“Well, if there’s one thing I know about you bikers, it is that it’s better to have you as a friend than as an enemy. And who knows, maybe I’ll need your help one of these days too.” (Y/n) rose to her feet. She allowed herself to study him for a second or two before turning on her heel to make it back inside her house. The second she crossed the threshold, it began raining as if God himself were urging the stranger to follow her, knowing that this very match would endure all following obstacles.

The sound of his boots meeting her wooden stairs left her smiling, forcing her to turn back to him as he softly closed the door behind himself. He stepped out of his boots, ran a hand through his golden locks, and let his eyes wander.

“I’m (y/n).” She softly spoke her name while her feet carried her towards her open kitchen, reaching for two bottles of beer.

“Benny.” It was a simple reply–just his name–nothing more, and yet she didn’t need anything else. She reached the bottle out for him to take, trying to bite down the sharp intake of air wanting to leave her as their hands met. He was a stranger, nothing more than a pretty face, but the excitement his closeness pushed through her, left (y/n) wondering how this night may play out, knowing that she wasn’t one to shy away from an opportunity like this.

“Are you hungry, Benny? You must have been on the road for a while.” Benny only nodded his head as he took another sip of his beer. He was unusually cautious for a biker–at least in comparison to those she had met before–but (y/n) didn’t mind his calm demeanour, grateful for the comforting feeling he emanated.

“Do you live here alone?” He plopped down on her kitchen island, letting his feet dangle in the air while he watched her cook. The moment had something homey to it, a domestic atmosphere she hadn’t ever experienced before, torn from a broken home at an early age. Sometimes she had imagined a life like this, with a husband close to love her, to appreciate her like she had always craved.

“I do. It’s just me around here.” The hum leaving him forced her gaze towards him, unable to bite down her smile at the way he studied her. He seemed to be just as fascinated with her, drawn to the woman who had invited a stranger into her house solemnly because she knew saying no to a biker could end badly for her. But Benny was different–that much she knew already.

“Must get lonely.” Her tongue kissed her teeth at his comment, trying to hold back from dumping the confusing emotions she had always felt on him. It did get lonely from time to time. But there was no escaping this situation, at least not for now, and she had made her peace with it, grateful that she could live however she wanted to.

“You get used to it. What about you? Who are you running away from?” The silence that followed her question grew thicker with every passing moment. She was patient, waiting for him to find the strength to speak while she finished cooking their food. The past years had taught her enough about trauma, stress, and fear to understand how much people struggled with whatever it was they were running away from.

Whatever it was that Benny couldn’t speak of, she wouldn’t force him to let her in, not when she could offer him a safe space for a few hours at least.

……

“I could take you on a ride as soon as it’s fixed.” Benny was sitting on her couch, feet placed on the small table, as he was nursing another beer. She was sitting close, feet placed in his lap, breaking through the layers that had turned them from strangers to somewhat friends already.

It had taken Benny almost an hour to let her in, to tell her of the struggles he had faced, the people he was running from, and the fear he couldn’t shake, no matter how fast he was driving, close to bidding this life goodbye. She had listened to his every thought, keeping quiet while he rambled on, finding safety in her closeness.

“Careful, Benny, you’d have to keep me around for that.” The grin she shot him left him laughing, head rolling back to give the raspy sound enough room to break through him. It was a beautiful sight, leaving her buzzing with heat flushing through her that begged her to move closer.

Something was lingering between the two, binding them closer together while both waited for the right moment to cross the last line between them.

“Would that be so bad?” It was close to a whisper, rolling off his tongue while he turned his head back towards her. (Y/n) felt heat rise up her spine, whispering to her to give her darkest and deepest longings enough room as if she was drunk off her face, unable to hold back. Benny held a special kind of magic over her, an unfamiliar sensation she couldn’t pinpoint just yet.

“I don’t think you’re one for keeping women around. And I don’t want to leave this place.” He shuffled around, placed his bottle down before leaning closer towards her. His bright eyes danced over her face while his ringed hand found her cheek, cupping it softly. Benny’s thumb ran over her parted lips, unable to hold back his groan as she sucked his digit into her mouth.

And then everything happened all too quickly. One second he was staring down at her, and the next she was sitting on his lap, lips locked with his. It wasn’t a soft kiss; it was rough, urged on by their need to be touched, to feel some form of love they hadn’t experienced in months, perhaps even years.

Trembling fingers worked on one another’s clothes, letting the fabrics drop on the ground while their mouths explored the places that hadn’t been touched in a while. Moans rumbled through them, filling her living room as the last piece of clothing found its way to the ground.

(Y/n)’s heart was racing, pounding in her chest while Benny couldn’t help but marvel at her body; at every inch he was now fortunate enough to touch. His fingers felt cold against her heat as he pressed her back down on the couch, brushing through her folds to spread her arousal on her pulsing bundle. All while (y/n) tugged on his golden curls with her back arched off the couch and her toes curled in anticipation.

“You’re fucking beautiful, doll.” She barely picked up on his words, too far gone to focus on the praises Benny spoke. His fingers moved fast enough to make black dots appear in her vision, leaving her eyes to flutter while her orgasm crept closer and closer. He dipped his head down to suck marks into the soft skin of her chest, letting his teeth graze her skin to make her feel as if she was burning, set ablaze by his touch.

“Benny,” she choked on his name. Her thighs were trembling, body aching for the relief he was about to push through her. She wanted to speak more words, wanted to tell him how good he was making her feel, but she didn’t manage to, interrupted by the loud moan clawing through her.

She came with his name rolling off her tongue, spoken like a mantra she had learned by heart years ago. He kept moving his fingers, circling her pulsing bundle for a few more seconds before letting go. They held eye contact, staring at one another with growing smiles that were glued to their lips. The sound of thunder rang in their ears, followed by the heavily falling rain that rushed down her windows, adding even more intensity to the atmosphere lingering in the room.

Benny didn’t speak a warning before he flipped her around, only to press her chest against the armrest of her couch. She heard him spit into his palm and heard the soft groan rumbling through him as he pumped his cock a few times before finally pushing into her from behind. Both groaned in unison at the way he pushed into her, spreading her walls around his twitching cock.

“Feels so good, Benny, move, please.” He instantly gave in to her begging, pulling out of her only to push back in with more force. It didn’t take him long to find a comfortable rhythm, fast enough to leave her choking on gasps, slow enough to give the two enough time to savour every passing second.

“You belong to me now, doll. I can’t let you go again.” (Y/n) didn’t properly understand what he meant by these words, too focused on the feeling of his hand finding her throat, pulling her into his chest. He tightened his grasp on her throat to hold on to her while he fucked them closer towards their high, knowing that they’d give in soon.

“Tell me that you’re mine.” He murmured the words against the back of her neck, while he left yet another mark that wouldn’t fade for a while. She was trembling in his grasp, struggling to reply while he softly choked her, heightening her senses. “Speak, (y/n).”

“I’m yours, fuck, Benny, I’ll always be yours.” A satisfied hum left him at her words–a hum that gave her the final push to throw herself over the edge. She came again with a moan, with squeezed-together eyes and her teeth buried in her lower lip. Benny kept snapping his hips against her behind, chasing his own high with his moans vibrating on her skin.

A deep “Fuck” left him as he came, pulling out of her just in time to paint her behind with his cum. Both were panting, holding onto the couch while they came down from their highs, unable to see through the hazy fog just yet.

“I mean it, doll, we belong together now.” He pressed a soft kiss to her shoulder before he rose to his feet to disappear from her sight. Her mind was racing, her heart was pounding, but no matter how confused she was, deep down she knew that she wouldn’t want to let go of him, following Benny wherever he’d take her.

#Benny Cross smut #Benny Cross imagine #Benny the bikeriders #Austin Butler smut #the bikeriders #Austin butler #the bikeriders imagine #Austin butler imagine

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lucky-bucky-boy · 1 year ago

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Changing Tides

Paring: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 6790

Summary: You and Bucky get paired together for undercover missions a lot because it works beautifully, despite the fact that you don't really even interact at home.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, limited use of Y/N, LOTS of pet names (pretty girl, baby, i think baby girl, my girl etc), praise kink, oral f. receiving, slight angst, reader is in denial for a good bit of this, angst if you squint, reader is a part of the team, this piece takes place in an AU where everyone lives together and everything is happy

A/N: Oh. My. God. I did NOT intend for this to be this long, at one point I thought I was going to have to make this a two-parter but I got it all in here. I really enjoyed writing this, please let me know what y'all think!! :)))

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

Hues of velvety violet and radiant amber mixed, painting the evening sky like a scene out of a museum. The scent of warm sea salt was still palpable in the air, the crystal like water of the wide-expanding ocean reflected the light of the setting sun. Dancing specs of light could be seen in the darker shades of the sky, stars bright and clear against the inky color.

The cold metal of the hotel balcony pressed against your exposed skin, shirt having risen up as you leaned over it slightly. The view was beyond breathtaking, something you would argue belonged on a movie screen. It was serene, offering a moment of reprieve from the typical chaos you endured in a day, and a distraction from the man currently sitting in the hotel room behind you.

Hate didn’t describe the emotions you felt for the brunet. On a daily basis, there was an underlying disinterest but every now and then a seething annoyance would bubble at the mere thought of the former soldier. You couldn’t pin-point why. Bucky himself had never done anything to wrong you after his rehabilitation and reintroduction into society, and you could easily say nothing the Winter Soldier had done counted towards your feelings.

The odd part of it all is the Bucky and you worked well together, great even. More often than not, you found yourself partnered with Bucky on just about every mission the two of you had; from quick in and out missions to undercover operations like the one you were on now. The communication was great, the two of you easily fell into a rhythm and could read each other’s body language like you’ve known each other your whole life. It was easy to slip into a faux-domesticity with him, which was a stark contrast to the daily life you lived.

The day to day with Bucky involved a lack of any form of contact. You’d avoid the gym if he was in it, would eat in silence if the two of you happened to be in the kitchen at the same time, eye-contact was consistently avoided - Really, the only time the two of you were seen together at home was during group training sessions and team-building nights. You were sure to never make it awkward for the rest of the team, never bad mouth or be outwardly annoyed at Bucky’s presence, you just really couldn’t care less if he was there or not.

“Sweetheart,” his voice carried from the room, light and sweet, almost intoxicating with a feeling instantly having your gut turn and catch your skin aflame, “Did you want to go out for dinner tonight or just order room service?” His voice got nearer as he moved to join you on the balcony.The cool metal prosthetic wrapped around your waist as he stood next to you.

A soft hum left your lips, gaze moving from the horizon to the prosthetic then to Bucky’s face. He adorned a slight scruff, long hair pulled back into a low bun; His eyes nearly twinkled as they reflected the setting sky in the distance, he wore soft maroon button down and black chinos that truly made him look like a normal, well-off guy. Tony and Peter had finally managed to perfect the color needed to make Bucky prosthetic look like a normal arm which easily sealed the deal on assuring that there was nothing major that could be easily spotted to dox the two of you as agents.

The flight to Morocco was long and the next 10 days were easily going to be even longer, the last thing you wanted to do was be anywhere but a soft bed. “Room service,” you replied, matching the tone he had asked the question with. You leaned your head against his shoulder, moving your gaze back to the ocean, “Did you do a room check and get our things set up?”

He nodded, “Everything inside is clear and put away,” he squeezed your side softly when he said inside, a subtle emphasis to communicate where it was safe to not be in character. “I’ll go order the room service, you can go shower and get comfortable. I know how much you hate the airport.” He chuckled softly at the end, pressing a quick kiss to your hairline before making his way back inside.

You let out a soft sigh, making it inside as well and closing the balcony door behind you as you did. This really was going to be a long 10 days.

The bitter taste of the wine nearly made your mouth water, sitting somewhere between too intense and the perfect thing to take the edge off. The first full day had been smooth, an easy itinerary of walking and exploring the city. From the outside, the two of you easily looked like a love sick couple; matching clothes, a large diamond in your hand, Bucky always opening the door for you and your soft smile that just couldn't seem to leave you face; but in reality you had been mapping the city, learning the back alley ways and locating any ports that may be needed for a quick exit.

The small patio of the restaurant adorned a handful of tables, lanterns lighting the area in a soft romantic glow, lucious plants filling in any space, the open space allowed for ease of blending into the crowd while watching any passerby on the street. Bucky had taken up a game of footsie with you, chattering along about some of the shops you had passed along the way.

“Is there any shop you’d want to make your way back to?” Bucky took a sip of the wine in front of him, eyes fixed on you intently.

A soft hum left your lips, swaying your head back and forth softly as you thought. “Well, I wanna hit up the history and art museum, so maybe we could see if there’s any other cute shops there? If not, I’d definitely like to look at the jewelry store and bookstore we passed on the way here.”

“Mmm, I do think it’s time to get my pretty girl a new necklace,” the words fell off Bucky’s tongue like he sweet talked you on the daily.

There was that feeling again, the uneasiness that laid in the pit of your stomach and your skin heated up. Maybe this was why you couldn’t stand Bucky outside of missions, maybe you just didn’t want to deal with this feeling constantly. “You spoil me enough, ya know,” you offered a soft giggle, “I can assure you I don’t need any more jewelry, my love.”

Bucky smirked softly, cocking his eyebrows up at you with a knowing look on his face, “You may not need it, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to do it anyways.”

You shook your head, about to offer a rebuttal as the waiter set your food down in front of you, all thoughts being lost to the amazing sights and smells. “This is easily my favorite part of our trips,” you stated, the distraction of food keeping you from noticing the way Bucky’s gaze stayed on you and a soft smile lingered.

Six days of being enveloped in Bucky’s presence, and thankfully it was getting easier by the moment. It had been a smooth operation so far, the information being easy to locate and gather without raising suspicions. As a result, Tony had said to take a day to relax, lay low and assure no one was able to realize there was something more to you two.

Bucky had made a home on the balcony of your hotel, a book in hand and a coffee sat on the little table next to him.He been there since the early morning and it was easily almost noon, not that that you were bothering to check the clock. A day off meant a day of sleep and eating, nothing much more than that.

However, sleeping wasn't something your body wanted to do so you found yourself with a forgotten movie playing on the television, your gaze consistently going back to him. You weren't sure why, but you couldn't keep your eyes off him. You'd been sitting for the past God knows how long trying to figure out why you couldn't pull your eyes away from him. His hair was down, something he didn't do quite often, almost always finding it easier to have it pulled away from his face. From the angle he was sitting, you could see his light gray button down was still completely unbuttoned, his jean shorts a little too snug around his thighs. He occasionally sipped the coffee that was most likely cold at this point, turning the page of the thick novel occasionally. His lips would purse, eyebrows scrunch occasionally, or a small chuckle, or even a shake of his head as he reacted to the words on the page.

The wind picked up some, indicating a small rain storm that was destined to his later in the evening was starting to make it's way in. Bucky pulled a hair tie from his pocket, tying his hair into his typical low bun before picking his book back up. And it finally hit you; Fuck he's pretty.

The thought immediately made your body heat up and the instant feeling of something in between shame and excitement sat low in your belly. It was like a well known secret your subconscious kept for years finally made it over the wall of denial in your brain, immediately making your thoughts run wild; Fuck he's so pretty, more than pretty actually. What if this is why we've been weird for some many years? Wait. Why would that make it weird? Wait. Why is it weird? Why do we get along so well on missions and then act so differently at home? Oh My God… Has the team been trying to set us up?

Shaking your head, you jumped up, apparently too suddenly because Bucky broke his concentration on his book to glance over at you. You could feel he was watching you move around, the only thought in your head now was to get out for some fresh air as you deciphered the flood of thoughts. You grabbed some fresh clothes, slipping into the bathroom with a heavy sigh once the door was closed.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, attempting to ground yourself. Okay, what the hell is going on? The question kept repeating itself over and over in your head as you slipped into a summer dress, a sage flowy piece that Natasha and you bought for this trip specifically. It was cute, and Nat was right when she said it complimented your skin; definitely different than your normal attire but still comfortable.

Walking out of the bathroom, you were relieved to find Bucky still where he was when you entered. After slipping on some sandals, you moved towards him, immediately aware of every detail of your very being. "Hey," you kept your voice soft, waiting for him to pull him eyes from the book and look up at you. There was something about how brightly his eyes shone with the golden sun beating down on him, there was a sense of both innocence and mystique, and the instant feeling of safety just from holding his gaze. "I'm heading out to get some coffee, do you want a fresh one? You've been sipping at the same cup for hours now."

Bucky glanced down at the cup, then to his watch, eyes going wide for a moment before a soft chuckle left his lips. "I've been out here for 4 hours already, shit. Yeah, I'd love a fresh one, doll. Thank you." He offered you a soft smile, "Just get me a-"

"A latte with three honeys on the side," you said matter-of-factly, "I could order for you at just about anywhere at this point." It was a teasing joke, one Bucky laughed at, but you instantly cursed yourself for even saying it.

"We do spend quite a bit of time together," he hummed out, "Did you want to go out for dinner or get room service tonight?" He asked, picking his book back up as he prepared for your departure.

"Let me see how I feel after I get back. But if we go out, it's your turn to pick. I picked last night." You stated before leaning down to kiss his hairline, still needing to keep up the act just in case someone was managing to spy; or at least that's what you were telling yourself. "I'll see you inna bit."

After returning with the coffee, still finding Bucky to be where he was when he left him, it was an instant decision to find a way to give yourself more time a way from the man that had your mind absolutely scrambled. Grabbing a book of your own, you let him know you'd be down by the pool if he needed you, using a quick excuse about wanting some change in scenery before the rain came as you left.

You weren't entirely sure how long you'd been out there, it couldn't have been too long, but you we're aware you were reading the same page over and over again. The words seemed to mix together, jumbling about and not registering even in the slightest, your brain still attempting to make sense of what you were feeling.

You never denied that Bucky was attractive, that's admittedly part of what made undercover missions easy. You never denied that you two got along well on missions, but you couldn't explain or pinpoint why you didn't get along at home. Sure, you were never hostile or rude, but it was exactly friendly or outgoing either. No matter how much you thought and walked through your early memories of Bucky, you couldn't make sense of anything.

At this point, you knew pride was part of the issue. You knew the team would be able to walk you through, at the very least Nat or Pepper or maybe even Steve, but you could never admit to them what you were currently feeling or going through. The only thing you wanted to do, needed to do was to act normal until you got home. Then you could just hide away and go back to not having to interact with the man that was causing you turmoil.

"There's my pretty girl," Bucky's drawl quickly pulled you out of your thoughts, causing you to jump at the sudden push back to reality. Seeing you jump caused Bucky to chuckle, especially as you turned to glare at him and his bright smile, "It's getting late, baby. We should go get some food."

He moved to the lounge chair you had made home in, kneeling down next to you so he was eye-level. There was that feeling again, low in the pit of your stomach that had your skin warming. "There's apparently food trucks at a park about not too far. Why don't we head there and get some food to bring back and watch a movie?"

Instinctively, you reach to tuck a strand of loose hair behind his ear, offering a soft nod and a smile, "That sounds perfect."

You wanted nothing more than to kiss him, the thought immediately making your already warm skin heat up more, feeling flustered and like a school girl. It's not like you haven't kissed, it was just agreed upon that it was reserved for dire need situations. All other physical touchs; hand holding, forehead kissing, even smacking each others ass was okay to sell the facade that you were a happy couple.

Bucky picked up on the change, a look of slight worry on his face, "You okay, doll?"

The laugh that left you was slightly anxious, holding the book in your hand up as a quick white lie, "Yeah, you just came down at a particularly… intense scene."

He immediately laughed, kissing your forehead as he stood up. "You're so cute. Let's get going though."

The bustling crowds offered a great distraction - Bucky stood proudly by your side, fingers interlocked together and swinging your joined hands softly like a love sick couple. The both of you scanned the crowd, trying to figure out where to go and what to get.

The lines weren't too long, there were nearly a dozen trucks, and live music playing. The sun was finally setting, more clouds rolling in and bringing in a cooler breeze that allowed for a reprieve from the beach heat. There were benches with umbrellas set up, lantern lights adorning some posts and wires around the lot. It was cute, and if it wasn't for the mission you were still technically on, it would feel so wrong to be here with Bucky.

After a moment of thought, you looked at Bucky, lips slightly pursed in thought, "I have an idea." You stated matter-of-factly.

He cooked an eyebrows at you, intrigued and slightly amused with your tone, "Let's hear it then."

"Let's get a platter or some random menu item from every truck then go back to the room and eat there."

Bucky looked around and nodded, "Ya know what, doll, that sounds fantastic. Do you wanna divide and conquer or go one by one?"

It was then that you realized the clouds were darkening, and the rain was definitely going to happen sooner than later. "Let's divide and conquer before the rain comes."

With a nod of agreement the two of you split, heading to either end of the trucks and working your way to each other. With the lines being shorter, it didn't take too long to get through them all, the both of you holding multiple bags stacked full of food and tied tightly. Quick words were exchanged before you started heading back towards the hotel, hoping to make it back before the rain.

The effort was fruitless though, with just maybe a few hundred feet left before the hotel you were staying at, the cold rain begins to pour down, the dark sky opening up and letting go every ounce of water it was holding on to. With loud gasps from the both of you, and small playful shriek even, you two took off running into the lobby, screeching yourselves to a stop as you entered and stood on the mats in front of the door. You were breathing heavily, attempting to catch your breath; a quick glance to Bucky showed you he was doing the same.

After a few moments, the two of you made eye contact, bursting into immediate laughter. You were both soaked head to toe, the only thing saved was the food. His shoes make a sloshing sound and your feet slid around in your sandals, you clothes clinging to every inch of your bodies. You were easily a sight for sore eyes, but it couldn't have been funnier.

"Why didn't either of us think about the rain?" You managed to get out through your laughter.

"Who knows, but let's get upstairs so we can get dry." He managed to respond.

The elevator ride up felt like an eternity, the cold of the AC feeling more intense from your wet skin. Bucky opened the door for you, letting you in first. He set the foot down, immediately kicking off his shoes. "Go shower, get warm. I'll pull out a change of clothes for you and we can swap when you're done."

Something about the direction made you freeze momentarily, causing him to look up at you, "(Y/N), you're freezing. Go shower. I'm fine to wait." His voice was soft and caring and there was a part of you that wanted to tell him to shower with you.

In the dim light of the room and the soaking wet clothes made him look even more divine, like he was sculpted from the gods themselves. You nodded, handing him the bags before making your way towards the bathroom. You closed the door, then quickly opening it to call out but he cut you off, "You want an oversized shirt and a loose pair of shorts, gets your ass in the shower." His tone was demanding but still playful. You caught the look in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and a hint of something you didn't want to recognize.

You kept your shower quick, ready to be in comfortable clothes and a bed with good food. After quickly drying yourself as much as possible, you wrapped yourself in a towel, and stepped out into the bedroom. Bucky stood in only his boxers, his own clothes in one hand while he scrolled through the television with the other. It wasn't the first time you've seen him with this little clothing, but something about it now made your mouth dry and your skin heat up.

"All yours," you said, grabbing his attention as you moved to the bed where he laid your clothes out for you.

"Thanks, doll. I'll be quick. You can pick the movie," he tossed the remote onto the bed before disappearing into the bathroom himself.

You stood there for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before slipping into the clean clothes. Bucky had already made work of getting creative. He pulled the ironing board from the closet and set the food up next to the bed, had fluffed the pillows up into a sitting position, and already gotten drinks for the two of you. By the time you had decided on a movie, Bucky was coming out of the bathroom.

Immediarely, you mind started short circuiting again. He looked soft. He had on a light blue shirt and a pair of light gray shorts, his hair was towel dried and brushed against his shoulders, a slight wave to the brown locks. He slid in bed next to you, getting himself situated and comfortable before handing over the massive spread of food for you to start digging into.

After about 20 minutes of eating and watching the movie in a comfortable silence, Bucky turned the volume down some, "Can I ask you a question?" The tone of his voice alone already told you how he was feeling. There was a sense of worry, anxiety almost to him.

"Of course, what's wrong?" You asked, sitting your food to the side so you could turn to look at him.

Bucky followed your lead, moving the food he had off the bed as well before taking a drink, trying to have a moment to articulate how he was going to ask what he wanted. Even though Bucky was sure the room wasn't bugged, he knew that there's was never a 100% chance of assuring that. The fact alone could make talking about things outside of the mission difficult, and this one one of those moments.

"How's the trip been for you? I know we haven't been on one in a while and I just want to make sure everything's okay, that we're okay." He had turned fully to look at you now, the worry in his voice making it to his eyes.

"Oh…" the response was immediate, and you regretted it instantly the second you so that worry on his face grow, "The trips been wonderful, and uh…" You sighed, toying with the blanket around you, "We're fine, yeah. I'm just… not here?" You said, sort of motioning to your head to get the point across.

Bucky cocked his head some, the worry turning to confusion. "Are we going to be okay when we go home?"

That was something you couldn't answer. What was okay. Was okay how you normally act? Was okay something different? Something better? Something worse?

"Uh… maybe?" You offered, immediately wincing at your own words. You sighed deeply, "I don't really know how to explain what I'm feeling."

"Okay," Bucky took a moment, letting you both sit in the uncomfortable silence that was the lull in the conversation. He was doing his best not to become frustrated, he knew there was most likely no easy way for you to communicate what you wanted to say or even what you were feeling, but he's been able to tell for the past couple of days that things, specifically that you, have been off. "What do you know?"

Your gaze met his again, taking a deep breath in to try to gather the courage to say what you needed. "Things feel… different?"

"Different?"

"Different."

Bucky stared at you for a moment, mind calculating and analyzing has he tried to decipher what you meant. In an instant it all clicked, and you didn't miss the way his lips curled into a quick smirk before his features soften. "Do things feel different when I call you my pretty girl?"

He watched as you immediately became flustered, averting your gaze and watching your chest rise and fall quicker. He thought he had sensed your heart rate quickening throughout the past couple of days, but he had honestly assumed it was anxiety from the mission. He had no reason to think it could be something else; Well, until now.

"(Y/N)," your name came as firm and demanding, causing you to look at him. The smirk on his face was more evident now, "We can continue this conversation now, or when we get home. But just remember, you're my favorite book to read."

You were instantly lost for words, mouth opening and closing as you processed what he just said to you. Waiting until you were home was going to be far too long, but talking about whatever this was now? Right now when you were flustered beyond belief, that flippant warm feeling filling every valley and curve of your body?

"Just say the word, doll, and I'll act like everything is normal. I'll go back to watching the movie and eating and ignoring the obivous."

A soft shake of your head was all you could muster as you search desperately for a will to stop the inevitable, or the courage to beg for it.

"Words, (Y/N). Use your words."

"I don't want normal." You swallowed, taking a shaky breath you continued, "I don't want this to go back to normal."

Buckys lips turned to a smile. "You don't want this to stop when we go home?"

You shook you head more feverishly, "No, I - Fuck, what have you done to me?" You groaned out.

"The same thing you've been doing to me for years, I suppose." His tone was matter-of-fact, cool and calm almost.

"What?" Your eyes had gone wide, mouth dry, and that God forsaken feeling low in your stomach was growing.

"You heard me. Obviously, we'll have some talking to do when we get home." He chuckled

Bucky moved as if he was going to grab the food, stopping once he heard, "No," come out of your mouth, "No. I want to talk about it now."

He looked back at you, eyebrows raising as to silently ask how.

"I want to…" You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at yourself before leaning forward, cupping the back of his neck with your hand and pressing your lips to his.

This kiss was different; It was electricity filled, igniting every nerve in your body. You could feel the heat from your ears to your toes. It was intoxiting and addicting.

Bucky waisted no time in kissing you back, even letting out a small groan at your sudden assertiveness. His prosthetic hand held onto you waist, the other cupping your face as the two of you broke years worth of tension in one swift motion. Bucky pulled away first, taking in the plumpness of your kiss swollen lips, the sluttering of your lashes as your opened your eyes to look at him, and the darkness of your gaze that was stricken with last.

He looked just as enthralled, blue eyes dark as the night sky and hooded with desire, cheeks flushed slightly beneath his scruff. It finally clicked what the feeling you've been having all week was. Lust; pure, unadulterated lust for the man who was currently pretending to be your husband.

"Well damn, doll," he offered you a toothy grin, squeezing your waist, "Wasn't expecting that."

"Sorry-"

"Don't be." He bit his lip, studying your face for a moment, "Whatcha thinking, pretty girl?"

You couldn't help but get flustered, "That I want more. A lot fucking more." You hand moved up from his neck to card through his hair, his breath hitching some as you did. "Please, James, I need more." Your voice had a slight whine to it, something you hoped he wouldn't be able to resist.

"If I knew you sounded so pretty begging this would've happened years ago," he grumbled before kissing you again. This time though, he re-situated himself, helping you move to straddling him and doing his best to let you still have some semblance of control for now. His hands gripped your hips, keeping you from being able to move away from him.

One of your hands cupped his face, the other running down his clothed chest. You lips move in sink, a squeeze on your hips eliciting a small moan from you that he took advantage of, using your open mouth to slip his tongue in. You could feel the tent in his shorts growing, sitting hard against your core.

An experimental grind of your hips pulled a moan form the man beneath you; The sound was music to your ears, and enough encouragement to do it again.

Buckys hands moved, bracing you as he flipped you over to give himself more leverage and take control. Just as he begin to grind himself against you, he moved his lips from your to your neck. He kissed his way down to your pulse point, drinking in the sweet sounds you made. He sucked softly at the skin, moaned himself when you pulled at his hair.

Any rationale thought was gone at this point, any fears or anxieties you had pushed to the back of your mind as pure pleasure and desire took over the forefront of your thoughts. Once Bucky was sure he would be satisfied with the mark he left on you, he pulled back some to look you in the eye.

"Are you sure you want this?" He breathed out, offering you an out.

You nodded so quickly he couldn't help but laugh softly, "God, you look so fucking desperate, doll. You want me to fuck you?" He had a slight tease to his voice.

Another nod is all you could muster, but that wasn't good enough for him. "Uh uh, come on. Use your words. Need to hear you say it if you want me to do it."

You whined at his demand, pouting at him slightly, "Please."

"Please what?" His tone was more stern now, "If you want to continue, I need to know you actually want this."

His insistence to make sure you were consenting pulled at your heart strings. You nodded, "Yes, Bucky," you kept your voice soft before adding a slight whine and plea to it, "Please fuck me."

He smiled, kissing you much softer than had had before, "I'd do anything you asked me to." His words sounded like a promise that had you own emotions bubbling up.

Bucky leaned up for a moment, pulling off his shirt. He motioned for you to sit up and pulled yours off as well, groaning softly when he sat you skin. "Such a beautiful, pretty girl. Look at you," his hands ran up and down your sides and he took in your body before making eye contact with you again, "Most perfect thing I've ever seen, ya know that?"

He could feel your skin heat up at his comments, watching you squirm. "Take your shorts off, doll." Bucky moved off the bed, kneeling on the floor at the edge, "C'mere." He demanded.

You aren't going to deny him at this point, feeling yourself so tightly wrapped around his finger that you'd follow him into hell if it meant he kept talking to you like this. Once you were close enough, Bucky grabbed your thighs and pulled you to be perched on the edge on the bed, legs on his shoulders with his eyes level with your core.

"Look at this sweet little pussy," he squeezed your thighs tight, "You're fucking glistening, doll." He started pressing kisses to your thighs, avoiding the very apace you needed him at. "Smell fucking divine, I just know you're gonna taste even better."

Bucky watched as you already started fishing the sheets, squirming and biting you lip to hold back any noise. He already decided it was his job to make it impossible for you to hold back. Bucky moved his right hand to interlock with yours, taking his left arm and using it to put pressure on your waist, the cold feel of the prosthetic a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. Just as he squeezed your hand, Bucky licked a thick stripe from your core to your clit, genuinely moaning at the taste.

He wasted no time in drowning himself in your essence. Bucky licked and sucked, offering the occasional nibble, until you were grinding yourself in his face. Once soft gasps and moans were falling freely from you lips, he moved his left hand to your core, the cool digits of his forefinger and ringer figuring prodding your sopping hole. He wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking softly as he pushed two fingers in, relishing in the fact that your moans got loud.

Bucky pulled him mouth away, moving to you thighs and sucking hickies into the soft skin while his fingers worked magic. He already knew your body so well, years of working together on intimate missions allowed him to learn how to tell what you liked versus what you loved.

After leaving a few marks, he leaned his head against your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes and watching had your chest rose and fell and you head was thrown back in pure pleasure. "I was fucking right. Taste like honey, could drink you up all fucking day."

He licked a quick stripe again, from where his fingers were to the hilt inside you all the way to your clit. "So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to continue eating your sweet little pussy until you cum all of face then I'm going to fuck you nice and deep so you feel my cock for days."

He chuckled when he felt your walls flutter around his fingers, "You like the sound of that, pretty girl?" He curled his fingers, hitting the spongy spot that had you gasping for air and eyes rolling into the back of your head. "Look, you're already so close to the edge. You better soak me, baby."

Bucky didn't fall short on his word, getting back to work on your clit with his mouth. His scruff added a nice sensation that bordered on pleasurable pain, fingers moving st the perfect pace and curving expertly, mouth switching between sucking and kitten licks. His right had squeezed your own hand, encouraging you to let go for him.

The pleasure was building quickly, it was intoxicating and inhibition destroying. You leaned up, using your free hand to grab hold of his hair and pull, giving you leverage to grind on his face. Bucky moaned against you, and truly giving you everything he was worth in his determination.

It didn't take much longer for you to fall over the edge, moaning loudly and body convulsing. Your legs squeezed his head as he continued to work you through your orgasm until you fell back, panting for breath.

Bucky pulled away, chuckling softly with a proud look in his face. From his nose down, he was absolutely glistening with your slick, "God you're fucking hot, using my face like that."

Bucky stood, pulling his shorts off, using them to wipe his face some, then tossing them to the side. "Can't wait to see your pretty face when I fill you up. Your gonna take me so good, aren't you?"

You nodded, already getting worked back up. You sat yourself up before he had the chance to grab you, leaning up and carding your hand through his hair again and guiding his lips to yours. You moaned at the taste of your own cum on his lips, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock, jerking him slowly.

He pulled away from your lips, breathing in sharp. "Uh uh, doll, you can do that another time," he kissed your forehead, a sweet gesture that was a drastic difference to what was currently happening, "Right now, I wanna be buried inside you, making you cum all over me again. Cmon, lay back down for me."

You stole one more kiss before resuming your prior position. Bucky stood at the edge of the bed, pulling you back to the edge and holding your legs spread wide. "You can tell me to stop at any point," he said softly, "but unless you do that, I'm not stopping until you're thoroughly filled with me."

You nodded, offering a desperate, "Please, Bucky. Want all of you," and moving to hold your own legs up as the extra step to prove how much you wanted this.

"So fucking perfect," he groaned out. Bucky grabbed his length, teasing your slit a few times to get his thick tip left before finally pushing in. He was slow, listening to your gasp as he stretched you out so nicely.

Inch by inch, he pushed in until he was bent over you and all the way to the hilt, your lower bodies completely flushed. "You feel fucking amazing around me," he moaned out, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Just as you were starting to whine, he pulled all the way out before slamming back in, causing you to moan out loudly when you felt him in the deepest parts of you.

Bucky set a brutal but rhythmic pace, changing it ever so slightly until he heard your moans and whines change to be deeper and louder. He moved one of your legs to his shoulder, which somehow allowed him to go even deeper, alternating between full thrusts and grinding against you.

He reached down between the two of you, rubbing circles in your clit with his thumb and watching as your whole body begin to shake with intense pleasure. "Look at you," he moaned out, "Better than my wildest dreams. You gonna cum again for me, already doll?"

He didn't need an answer at this point, he could tell from how your walls were squeezing him that you were close, and as much as he hated to admit it he wasn't far behind you. Bucky kept his movements consistent until he felt you fall over the edge again with a high pitch moan, his hips finally flattering as you squeezed him like a vice, quickly chasing his own high. A few erratic thrusts and he spilled into you with a moan of your name.

Bucky let your legs down, taking a few deep breaths before pulling out of you. He laughed lightly as you whined at the loss of him. He disappeared to the bathroom, cleaning himself up before bringing back a warm, damp wash cloth to wipe you down with. Bucky pressed softly kisses to yoh skin and he wiped you off, kissing your lips before tossing the cloth to the side and climbing into bed with you.

He helped you move back to laying normally in the bed, laughing once he noticed the credits of thie movie were rolling. He wrapped and arm around you, pulling you into his side and letting you get comfortable on him."How you feeling, doll?"

"Good, a little weird, but good." You said, voice drenched in exhaustion.

"Weird how?" He asked, rubbing his fingers up and down your back.

"Good weird. Happy things are gonna be different when we get home."

With how you were laying, you missed the way Bucky smiled down at you, "You don't understand how happy it makes me that I'll get to treat you like this all the time."

"Really?" You asked, already finding it hard to keep your eyes open.

"Doll, I've been yours since the moment I met you, someone was just too stubborn to notice her own feelings." He squeezed your side before going back to rubbing your back, "Get some sleep, we can talk in the morning."

#bucky barnes #marvel #seb stan #marvel smut #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #james barnes #james barnes smut

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serpentandlily · 1 year ago

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Untouchable III - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister! Reader ✨

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court's spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he'd eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on-with Elain, your brother's mate's middle sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that - more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: angst

a/n: Okay all your comments/reblogs have literally made me dieeee laughing. Y'all are so funny lmao. Hope you enjoy this one! I had lots of fun writing it <3

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II ➻❥ Part III ➻❥ Part IV ➻❥ Part V

➻❥ Part VI ➻❥ Part VII ➻❥ Part VIII ➻❥ Part IX ➻❥ Part X

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part III

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The cool night breeze kissed the flesh exposed by your silk nightgown as you sat on the railing of your balcony, dangling your legs over the edge. You could faintly hear music and the sound of laughter as Velaris came alive around you. You blew a loose strand of hair out of your face as you gazed up at the bright moon glowing down on you in the night sky.

“I need some advice right now, Mama,” you whispered into the night. “Everyone seems to be finding their place in this world but I…I don’t know where I belong or what I’m even here for. And everything has been falling apart recently and I could really, really, use one of your hugs right now.”

After the disastrous training session this morning, you had spent the rest of the day watching over Nyx. Being with him made you feel better. Your nephew was a reminder that there were more important things in your life than a certain shadowsinger and his crazy mood swings.

But now Nyx was asleep and you were left alone with your thoughts once again.

Azriel had been so rough with you today, so cruel. And your heart panged with the thought that he would never dare treat Elain, or even Mor, like that. You let out a sigh and drew one knee to your chest, resting your head against it. Would this heartache ever go away? Or were you cursed by the Mother to forever yearn for a male who would never want you?

Somehow you could sense him before you even heard the flap of wings. A thud sounded behind you and the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar flooded your senses. His presence felt heavy and dark and you refused to turn around despite the way it put you on edge.

Silence. Nothing but tense silence filled the air. If it wasn't for Azriel's looming presence behind you, you might've thought you imagined him coming. You waited a breath...then another. Still nothing. You felt him take a step closer to you; his shadows eased their way between your arms, over your shoulders, through your hair. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck.

Another moment went by and you couldn't take it anymore. You blew out a low breath.

"I didn't snitch on you if that's what you're thinking," you scoffed, your gaze never straying from the moon. "You can blame that on Cass. So if my brother sent you here to apologize, save it."

Silence once more. Your grip on the edge of the stone railing tightened. Why wasn't he saying anything? Why did he come here?

"Rhys didn't send me here." You almost jumped at the sound of his voice, your heartbeat rising. "In fact, your brother forbade me from seeking you out."

Yet here he was, going directly against his High Lord's orders. Your brows furrowed but you refused to turn around, refused to look at him. So much had changed between the two of you in the last twenty-four hours.

"So why are you here?"

"I hurt you." His voice was as dark as his shadows.

You glanced down at your bandaged hand. The image of his cold face as he struck down on you with his sword replayed in your mind. But you weren't sure which had hurt more. The slice down your palm or the words he had spat at you.

"You did."

"Y/n..." he whispered your name. You felt his hand ghost over your shoulder, as if he were about to touch you, but his touch never came. "I'm sorry. I was...I was angry and I took it out on you—”

"You weren't just angry, Az," you cut him off. "You were angry with me. Why? What did I do to earn your ire?"

You finally turned around and gasped as you caught sight of his face. He had a black eye, his left cheekbone was surrounded by black and purple bruises, and his bottom lip had been split open, though it looked to be already healing. His hair was tousled as if he had spent hours running his hand through it, some pieces hanging down his forehead.

"I deserved it," he said, darkly as your eyes searched his face for any more injuries. You knew your brother had been behind them. "You've done nothing wrong. Like I said, I wasn't angry with you."

You let out another scoff and jumped down from the railing. The ground was cold against your bare feet as you brushed past Azriel and strode towards the glass doors leading to your bedroom.

“Where are you going?”

You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “I refuse to entertain a conversation with you if you’re going to blatantly lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” he ground out through his teeth.

You whirled around, crossing your arms. “Then why did you say all those things to me? If you were just angry, why not let off steam by sparring with Cass like you always do? You targeted me.”

“I didn’t mean any of the things I said, y/n.”

“You still said them.”

“Fine,” he snarled. He stalked towards you looking like a fallen angel straight from Hell, wings and all. You couldn’t help but take a step back. “Do you want to know why I’m so angry, princess?”

You gasped as he pressed a large hand flat against your sternum and pushed you against the wall, holding you there. Your eyes widened as you stared up at him. His expression was dark, his jaw clenched.

“I’m angry because you let that undeserving, piece of shit male put his hands all over you,” he growled. “I'm angry you even let him look in your direction.”

You glared up at him. “Why should it even matter to you?”

“Because it does.” He slammed a hand against the wall beside your head causing your heart to pound in your chest. “It fucking does.”

“Why?” Your voice was a mere whisper.

Azriel sucked in a breath, his head dropping into the crevice of your neck. You didn’t think your heart could beat any faster or you might possibly die. He splayed his hand out on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Azriel?” you questioned, uncertain of what he was doing. He had never acted so erratic around you. You went to take a step forward but he slammed you back against the wall with the hand on your stomach.

“Don’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t move.”

Your breath got caught in your throat. He trailed his nose up your throat column, barely brushing against the fragile skin. Butterflies erupted in your stomach at his touch, at his closeness to you.

“Az,” you started, placing your hand on his chest. “What are you—”

You stopped talking as he laid his hand over your much smaller one. He closed his eyes, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Don’t touch me.”

But his hand squeezed yours, keeping it in place. You were so confused—so utterly confused by his behavior. He pried your hand off his chest after a moment and you let your arm fall limp.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice was so low, it sent a shiver down your spine. His hand gripped your hip so tightly, the fabric of your nightgown bunching in his fist.

When his eyes opened again, he looked wild—feral. His hand slid up your waist, grazing the side of your breast, until it lingered on your throat. Heat started to coil inside of you. Fire burned a trail through your veins. You couldn’t find any words, your mind suddenly empty of every single thought except one.

Azriel took a deep inhale and you were certain he could smell your arousal. Your cheeks turned pink with embarrassment. But his pupils dilated at your scent, making his eyes look black, as the hand that was on the wall clenched so tightly, parts of the brick chipped off, clattering to the floor. His other hand moved up your throat to cup the side of your cheek, a scarred thumb brushing against your skin.

You swallowed audibly, frozen in place. You could scent his own arousal, could feel it pressing against your stomach, as his hard body kept you as its prisoner. Your mouth parted in a gasp and his head dipped down, his nose brushing against yours. And then his lips hovered over yours and you held your breath. Your body screamed at you to do something, anything. But he had ordered you not to move, not to touch him.

Your heart nearly stopped as his lips feathered yours and you waited. Waited for him to make the final move, to press his lips against yours for real. To kiss you. Something that had only ever happened in your dreams. But instead, he let out a loud grunt of pain and pulled himself away from you so quickly, it felt like you had been slapped.

You blinked up at him, disorientated. “A-Azriel?”

He let out a frustrated growl, running a hand through his hair, as his whole body seemed to tense. When he met your eyes, goosebumps covered your skin because of the darkness in his gaze. The hand at his side clenched in and out of a fist. Like he was restraining himself from something.

You were shaking like a leaf, glad the wall could support you, otherwise you were sure you would’ve crumbled to the floor. You waited for him to speak, to say anything that might explain what the hell had just happened. But when he finally did, his words were like a spear to the heart.

“Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.” The words came out in a snarl and his huge wings snapped out, casting a dark shadow over your form. Before you could even say anything, he launched himself into the air and disappeared into the dark night sky.

The breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding in was expelled out of your lungs and you slid down the wall until you were on the floor, drawing your knees up to your chest. Your mind whirled as you tried to figure out what just happened.

But hours later, when the sun began to crest over the horizon, you were still so lost.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A few days passed by without you so much as catching a glimpse of Azriel. Apparently, your brother had sent him off on some mission, likely out of spite. Or perhaps even for your benefit. As much as you wanted to see him after that night on the balcony, his absence gave you time to think about what you wanted or needed to do.

Ultimately, you decided the next time you came across him alone, you would force him to talk to you, to tell you what the hell that night was about. It was only fair. You deserved an explanation after all. He had treated you like shit, then came to you and nearly kissed you, before disappearing. And his words had been ringing in your head every single night.

Do yourself a favor, princess, and stay the hell away from me.

They made no sense to you. It had seemed like he wanted you that night, judging by the arousal you had scented, the feel of him against you. And you knew he could tell you wanted him too. So why would you be doing either of you any favors from staying away from him? It made no Godsdamn sense and you needed an answer to his cryptic words. So you would demand it of him the next time he came around.

You stretched your legs out on the couch, yawning as you placed a bookmark to keep your place in the novel you were in the middle of reading, and snapped it closed. It had been a long day of taking care of Nyx while Rhys and Feyre had to attend to some courtly duties. The house had been noticeably vacant today, just the two wraith twins occasionally floating in to check on you and baby Nyx.

Normally Elain was around to keep you company on days like this but even she had run off somewhere for the day. You had just started to get up, ready to retire to your bed, when the front door slammed open. You jumped at the noise, whirling towards the foyer. Rhys and Feyre weren’t due back until tomorrow morning, so who else could it—

Elain stumbled into view, followed by Azriel. Both hadn’t even noticed your presence as they kissed wildly, bumping against the walls as they moved inside. The scent of Elain’s arousal flooded the room and you choked on the scent causing them to break apart in surprise.

Your stomach sank at their appearance. The top buttons of Azriel’s shirt were undone, exposing some of the tattoos on his chest. Elain’s hair was in disarray, her lips swollen, as if they had been up to this for a while now. Well, that explained why Elain had been gone all day.

You stared at them with wide eyes as hurt slammed its way into you. Azriel had returned from his mission. He had returned and had sought out Elain. Hadn’t even thought to come to you to maybe give you some explanation of that night. You were probably the last thing on his mind right now anyways, that much was clear.

“Oh my Gods,” Elain exclaimed, placing a hand to her chest. “I’m so sorry, y/n. I knew Feyre and Rhys would be gone and assumed you’d be in bed by now.”

Azriel said nothing, only stared at you with a cold, unfeeling look. You felt your breath shallow out, your nerves causing your hands to shake. You wanted to scream, wanted to vomit, to cry. But you did nothing. Just mustered up a small smile and muttered, “It’s okay.”

Elain went to say something else but Azriel grabbed her hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, holding eye contact with you the entire time. “Come on, let’s go.”

He smirked as she blushed red and you could do nothing but just stare and stare at him. You didn’t move an inch as he pulled her away and up the stairs, Elain giggling the entire time. You didn’t move even after you heard her bedroom door slam close.

You thought there was no way he could’ve hurt you more, but you had clearly underestimated him. How could he? How could he…act like that with you and then just carry on as if nothing happened? How could he just carry on with another girl after that charged night? You hand clenched the book you were holding as you struggled through your feelings.

Your already broken heart somehow found even more ways to tear itself apart. But unlike months ago when you had caught them in the same predicament and cried all through the night and eventually fled from Velaris, no tears came this time. No tears at all. Instead white hot anger burned through you instead.

You were tired of being captive to your own feelings. Tired of letting the stupid shadowsinger have so much power over you. You were so unbelievably tired of being constantly hurt by him. You couldn’t even use the excuse that he had no idea what he was doing to you when he had just made it so clear he did.

Your jaw tightened and you gave yourself over to the rage you felt. He had told you to stay away from him. So you would. But you sure as hell were about to make it impossibly hard for him to stay away from you.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The next two days, you did exactly that. You ignored Azriel entirely. Didn’t so much as look in his direction. At training each morning with the Valkyries, you made sure to have a sparring partner ready to go before he could even open his mouth and demand you train with him. You didn’t greet him, only hugged Cassian good-bye each day, and pretended you didn’t hear him when he would call out your name.

Meanwhile, you had spent your time in heated negotiations with your brother. You were ready to carve a place out for yourself in this court and after many discussions with him, Feyre and Mor, you three had reached a compromise. A certain letter that came from the continent had helped you plead your case.

And that is why when Rhys stood up at family dinner, clearing his throat to get everyone’s attention, you knew exactly what he was going to announce. You kept your hands folded in your lap, your shoulders held back, and your body angled away from the end of the table where the shadowsinger sat.

“Another announcement in a week?” Cassian laughed. “Don’t tell me Feyre’s having twins!”

Everyone chuckled as Nesta slapped him on the back of his head. He only grinned at his mate, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. You smiled at their interaction despite the envy that crept its way into your head. Oh how you wished for that kind of love. Perhaps one day you would find your own mate and forget about the shadowsinger entirely.

“Gods no,” Feyre chuckled from beside Rhys who conjured a piece of parchment in his hand. “We come with some news from the continent.”

“I received some correspondence from Prince Cedric,” Rhys explained. “The King of Vallahan’s first born son and Heir to the Throne.”

“Go on, read it to them,” Mor said with a giddiness that caused you to smile.

Rhys read from the letter out loud:

To High Lord of the Night Court, Rhysand,

I am writing to you because I have had the pleasure of spending the past month in the company of your lovely sister, y/n. I must admit, your sister has charmed my heart with her kindness, grace, wit and loyalty to your court. We know very little of Prythian’s courts here on the continent, but if your sister is a shining example of your citizens, I must admit, I am all the more curious about your court. As you might know, I am next in line for the Crown and my time may be coming soon.

In a world dictated by power, alliances between territories have allowed for stability and peace. When my time to wear the crown comes, I would like it to also come with the forging of two strong realms. With the utmost sincerity and goodwill, I believe a union between our territories through marriage would not only reward me with a beautiful bride, but prosperity and peace between our people. I assure you, High Lord, that I will propose with sincere commitment to your sister, to give her a life filled with love and respect as my future Queen.

I understand that this is not a decision that will be made without proper communications, so I am prepared to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss this matter further. I hope you consider my request and I will remain with anticipation until you reach out.

Sincerely yours,

Prince Cedric of Vallahan

Heir to the Throne

A fork dropped on the table somewhere behind you and the room was silent for a moment before Cassian let out a loud whistle. “Holy shit, y/n!”

Mor cackled, reaching over the table to give you a high five. “That’s right, our girl bagged herself a Prince.”

Your cheeks turned a bit pink at the attention. To be honest, you had no idea that Prince Cedric had been captured by you. It wasn’t like you engaged in any romantic courting or even so much as touched each other's hands. But your mere personality had won him over. Too bad he just wasn’t the male your heart had set its course on.

“Not just a Prince, girl,” Amren chimed in. “A future King.”

You could feel a heavy gaze settle on you from the other side of the table but refused to look that way.

“And what about you, y/n?” Nesta asked. “Did the Prince win over your heart as well?”

“I must admit, the letter came as quite a surprise to me,” you answered honestly.

“To me, as well,” Mor jumped in. “I mean, it’s not like they spent much time together outside of the formal dinners and parties we attended while there. Unless, of course, you snuck off with him while I wasn’t watching, you naughty wench.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I assure you, I was a proper lady during our time at the King’s Cross.”

“You certainly weren’t a proper lady during our time in Nysa,” Mor mumbled under her breath with a smirk. You kicked her under the table with a glare.

You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at Azriel this time. He was already staring at you, his jaw set, his fist clenched around the stem of his wine glass. You could’ve sworn a bit of jealousy shined in his eyes. You quickly looked away, not wishing to show him you even cared about his reaction, though you did.

“Well, as fun as this is,” Cassian said. “There’s no way you’d marry off your sister to go live in another territory. Right, Rhys?”

Rhys looked inclined to agree but Feyre nudged him in the gut with her elbow. “If that is what she wishes, she will always have my blessing. It is her choice, of course. But a marriage is not the announcement I planned on making today. I merely read this letter to you all to show you how successful y/n has been as a representative of our court. And because of that, we have officially decided to not only give her the title of Emissary, but she is also going to take over Mor’s position in the Court of Nightmares since Mor has had her hands full with negotiations on the continent.”

“It's about time you let your sister prove herself as a valuable member of this court,” Amren said, the closest thing you’d ever get as a congratulations. She did give you a small smirk, pride shining in her silver eyes.

“She has always been a valuable member,” Cassian snided but smiled at you regardless. “If this is what you want, y/n, then congratulations! I’m glad I’ve taught you all the ways to kick ass, especially if you’re now going to be spending more time in Hewn City.”

You laughed but gave him your thanks. Feyre proposed a toast for you and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face for the rest of the night as they planned for announcing the shift in leadership to Hewn City. You had already bought your dress for the occasion, ready to make the shadowsinger eat his heart out. You even felt a bit vindicated as a certain male decided to spend the rest of his own night brooding in his shadows.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Azriel tossed and turned in his bed, unable to sleep. Both his mind and his shadows seemed to be in a permanent state of chaos ever since dinner. He couldn’t get the image of you smiling as Rhys read the Prince’s letter out of his mind. He had never considered the possibility of you leaving this court, had never thought Rhys would ever allow that.

He threw his sheets off, standing up and prowling towards the floor length mirror in the corner of his room. His eyes fell on the skin above his hip, on the small tattoo of Illyrian wings with a sword going straight through the middle of them.

He wished he could take truth-teller and slice that bit of skin right off his body. But even with its absence, the burden of it would never disappear. He let out a curse, pure rage racing through him. How could he have known things would turn out this way? How could he have known how much pain that tiny tattoo would eventually bring him?

His fist shot out, punching straight through the mirror. He was so angry he didn’t even feel the pain of the tiny shards of glass piercing his scarred flesh. Gods, this was all so fucked up. So incredibly fucked up.

His heart pounded as he thought about how you had felt pressed against him that night on your balcony. How your scent had driven him crazy. How stunning you had looked under the moonlight in that tiny nightgown. The Princess of Night was an accurate title for you and all your beauty.

He fell on his knees, the broken shards of glass crunching under his weight, letting the blood from his hand drip down on the floor. No pain would ever compare to the one he felt now. The pain of craving you. Craving the touch of your skin, the taste of your tongue, the moans he could drag from that pretty little mouth.

And Gods, the way you had looked at him. He had almost caved. Had almost decided to burn it all to the ground for one chance to taste you, feel you, claim you. But he couldn’t. So he went back to doing what he always had–keeping you at a distance. It hurt to do so, even more so whenever he saw how much it hurt you, but it was better this way. You needed to move on, needed to look for love elsewhere.

Life had always been unfair to him but this, this was quite possibly the worst of it. For he knew he would always yearn for you, crave you, love you—but only ever from a distance. Because for him, you…you had been made untouchable.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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aemondsbabe · 1 year ago

Text

Love is Patient and Kind

summary: hand holding & dry humping || you aren't ready to take the next step with your monk, luckily for you he has the patience of a saint

pairing: osferth x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dry humping, very fluffy, osferth being cute and understanding and ruining other men for everyone, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to day one of 12 days of smuff!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as part 1 to Wind’s Howling or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist

gif creds to @thecruel!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Are you sure you do not wish for me to carry that, my lady?” Osferth asks for the millionth time, nodding his head at the basket, laden with various herbs and medicinal plants, in the crook of your elbow.

For the millionth time, you merely shake your head with a crooked smile. “I wish only for your company, monk,” you glance over at him as the two of you walk through the forest, admiring the way the early afternoon sun casts a golden halo through his hair, “I told you as much when we left camp this morning.”

Osferth merely nods in reply; your man is one of few words. A soft blush blooms across your cheeks at the thought – your man, but it was as good as true. Osferth was the first man in Uhtred’s company you felt comfortable with when you joined their cause all those months ago when they’d stopped in your small hamlet in need of a healer; you’d been by their side ever since.

In the months since, your relationship with the monk had steadily grown from hushed whispers around the campfire in the dead of night, when sleep eluded the both of you, to heated glances, delicate touches, and stolen kisses. More recently, Osferth had all but insisted on accompanying you nearly everywhere you went, which is how he’d come to follow you as you walked through the forest to gather the variety of curative plants you need.

A content sigh passes your lips as you tilt your head up, taking in the way the tips of the trees stretch up toward the blue sky. “I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like,” you joke, your heart squeezing proudly in your chest as the monk chuckles next to you, “But hopefully this summer will be dryer than the last.”

“I have prayed many times for sun,” Osferth says with a nod, blue eyes soft as he gazes at you, “Unfortunately, the Lord seems to ignore those requests.” The corner of his lips tilts up as he huffs a laugh at his own joke.

Suddenly, a branch snaps loudly not too far off the winding path the two of you have been strolling down. Osferth acts quickly, ever vigilant, and takes your hand to usher you behind him as he draws his sword. Your breath quickens as you peek around his shoulder, pressing yourself tightly against his back as your hand grips his; you’d been assured by Uhtred’s scouts that the forest surrounding camp was perfectly safe, but in these times danger seemed to creep up from every corner.

A buck appears a little ways down the path, followed by two more deer, each sparing you and the monk only a quick glance before scampering into the forest once more. The two of you let out a collective sigh of relief as Osferth sheaths his sword with a shy smile.

“Perhaps now would be a good time for a break, my lady?” He suggests with a soft smile, “We’ve been walking since morning.”

“I think we’ve earned a break,” you nod, gazing up at him through your lashes, the two of you still close enough that you could make out soft flecks of green in his blue eyes, “I believe I saw a clearing a few paces back.”

“Lead the way.” Osferth nods, keeping in pace with you as you backtrack to where you’d spotted a lush clearing through the trees only moments ago. As you walk, nearly shoulder to shoulder, the monk silently takes your hand again, his rough fingers threading together with yours. Neither of you speaks, though you can nearly feel his pleased smile from your periphery, twin to your own.

After only a few moments, you veer off the path as the two of you step into a sizable glade, the trees giving way to a field of tall grass. Your hands stay clasped as you walk together, basket still tucked in your elbow as you lift the skirts of your linen gown to prevent it from snagging on the high blades of grass; your chest tightens once more when you glance down and notice how Osferth takes great care to step over any flowers in his path, the ones that sprinkle the meadow with pops of yellow and lilac.

Soon, you come to a spot where the ground seems to be drier, however the monk grasps your forearm to stop you as he slips the thin, grey wool cloak off his shoulders and drapes it over the ground.

“Osferth,” you gently admonish, though a smile does creep across your lips at the sweet gesture, “I am perfectly capable of sitting on the ground.”

“A lady should not have to,” he says simply, nodding to the cloak, “Please.”

With a final glance, and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you comply, setting your basket down before relaxing atop his robe. After making sure you’re settled, the monk joins you, setting his sword to the side as he sits and leans back on his hands, scanning the treeline.

“It’s so lovely here…” you smile as you glance around, a soft breeze causing the grass to rustle around you.

Osferth sits up beside you, a relaxed smile on his lips as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him. “I find the company to be far lovelier,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, never taking more than you seem keen to give. The two of you easily fall into a lazy rhythm, your lips moving together as he guides you to lie against his chest. You lay your hand against his chest, right over his heart, thankful that he’s forgone his usual leather armor and chainmail today as you feel his warmth through the soft tunic he wears.

He sighs against your lips, his fingers gently weaving into the locks of hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and making you cling to him all the more tightly, his other hand wrapping around your waist before settling in the small of your back, holding you to him.

After a few moments, the two of you part to catch your breath and he studies you with a warm gaze as you relax against his chest. “We are meant to be stopping in a town tonight.” Osferth says simply.

“That we are.”

“We could get a room together,” he breathes, making you gasp as he trails kisses across your jaw, “Just the two of us.”

Immediately, you tense up and untangle yourself from him, sitting up with a sigh. He quickly sits up next to you and you can feel him eyeing you with concern, though you dare not meet his gaze.

“My lady, I didn't mean to offend you…” He says hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You didn’t offend me, sweet monk,” you turn to him with a bashful smile, “I am simply…I don’t know if i’m ready.”

“Ready for what?” His head tilts to the side as he eyes you curiously.

You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to broach the topic. “Osferth, I have heard enough tales of your…prowess around the campfire to know that my skills do not match your own.”

The crease between his brows only deepens as he continues staring at you, blue eyes flitting between your own. “My prowess?”

“With more…intimate relations…” You say slowly, glancing away from him.

“Oh,” he says softly before his eyes widen comically, a dark blush cascading over his fair cheeks, “Oh!”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his dumbstruck expression, your lips quirking up into a soft smile despite your nerves.

The hand on your shoulder tightens as he leans closer to you. “My love, you need not fret over it,” he whispers, blue eyes conveying a deep seriousness, “We can get a room at the tavern and not do anything at all.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion – you’ve always been told to expect a very different answer from men. “What?”

He huffs out a soft laugh and pulls you back down to lie on the grass with him once more. “I mean what I say,” he says softly, one hand stroking your hair, “We can get a room and just kiss or cuddle or merely talk, I don’t care.” You look up from where you’ve had your cheek laying against his chest, the emotion in his eyes shocking you for a second, “I just want to be with you.” He whispers finally.

You can feel yourself blushing as he speaks, the apples of your cheeks heating up deliciously under his kind gaze. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips before you can stop it, which only makes him laugh too as you bury your head against his chest and bite your lip, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and campfire smoke.

After a moment, the two of you calm down and you finally look back up at him, “Kissing sounds good…” you nearly whisper, suddenly shy as he surveys your face.

Osferth merely chuckles, low in his throat, and rolls the two of you over. Normally, this is when you’d be pushing any other man off of you with some mumbled excuse, but you can’t help but feel safe with the sandy haired monk, taking him at his word that whatever you were willing to give would be enough.

“We have time, and plenty of herbs already,” he rasps, his voice thick with an arousal you’d only heard on a very scant few occasions when the two of you had shared frantic kisses in the night once the rest of the men were asleep, “Why wait until tonight?”

A small giggle escapes you once again as the blush on your cheeks extends down, almost all the way to your chest, but you nod nonetheless, your arms coming up to snake around his neck as you pull him down to you. A small whimpery breath escapes you when his lips touch yours yet again, and he responds in kind with a low groan, the sound rumbling from his chest. His lips are soft against your own as the two of you move leisurely; once again, he lets you set the pace, only licking at your bottom lip after you do the same to him first.

Your thighs spread as your kiss deepens and you moan again when he slots himself between your thighs, the linen of your dress hiked up just above your knees. A shiver rolls through you at the feel of him on top of you, so warm and weighty.

“Is this alright?” He breathes, navy eyes blinking between each of yours as he checks for any signs of discomfort from you, visibly relaxing when he finds none.

Wordlessly, you nod, bobbing your head eagerly as you pull him back down. His hands roam carefully over your body as your lips and tongues move together, breathlessly licking into each other's mouths. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hardness pressing against your center, a pleased hum emanating from your chest at the realization that you’ve affected him this much with only a kiss; the pride in your heart twists into something different, something deeper as a knot forms and begins tightening in your belly.

“My lady –” Osferth mumbles as he starts to pull away from you, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.

“Don’t!” You say quickly, tugging him back to you and surprising even yourself as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, “Please, I – It’s good.” You confirm breathlessly, eyebrows quirked up with need as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Yeah?” He asks, unable to wipe the pleased grin off his face as he settles back on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight off of you as he presses against your center again.

You nod, already threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head to draw his lips back to yours. A breathy, high-pitched moan leaves you at the feel of his clothed length pressing against you, the ties at the front of his breeches only adding to the pleasurable sensations that zap through you as he starts rolling his hips against your own.

His pace quickens as he breaks away from you, panting against your skin as he traces wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your head lolls to the side as you whimper and whine underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel his hard cock twitch against you, even through the fabric of your smallclothes.

You’re quick to match his pace, using the leverage of your legs wrapped around his middle to ruck yourself up into each thrust, earning grunts of pleasure from the monk.

“My lady,” he groans, one hand fisting into your hair as the other trails down to run appreciatively over the bare skin of your thigh, “Y-You are bewitching.” He gasps, mouthing at your neck, his cock no doubt leaking into the leather of his trousers.

Your only reply is a choked out moan of his name as your back arches underneath him, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter as the ties of his breeches rub over your pearl deliciously, your smallclothes no doubt soaked.

Blessedly, Osferth seems to understand the desperation in your voice and movements and pulls back to look at you, both of his hands quickly grasping yours, fingers threading together as he holds them to the earth beside your head.

“Sweet girl,” he grunts as he gazes down at you, a rosy blush cascading beautifully over his high cheekbones, “P-Peak, my lady, please,” he pants as his fingers tighten against your own, “I’m, God be good, I’m right behind you.”

You nod frantically, your only sound a choked out sob as you tense underneath him when his hips rut perfectly against yours, the knots of his pants catching against your sensitive bud in just the right way to tip you over the edge. You twitch underneath him, white knuckling his hands when you feel your center clenching helplessly around nothing as pleasure buzzes through you.

Osferth reaches his end mere seconds after you, humping against you two or three more times before tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as his own high washes over him, cock spasming in his breeches as his spend leaks into the waiting fabric.

“You’re beautiful,” you declare softly, the words tumbling from your lips as soon as you think of them.

The monk blushes somehow more heavily above you, though a soft smile graces his lips. With a soft sigh, he falls to his side, bringing you with him. Your cheek once again finds its home against his chest and you smile at the sound of his heart thumping wildly as he pulls you closely to him, one arm wrapping protectively around you as he tucks the other under his head, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You flatter me, my lady,” he says lowly, a pleased rasp to his voice. “You are truly an angel,” he continues after a moment, “A beautiful, precious angel.”

You smile contentedly, his heart thudding steadily in your ear as you let your eyes drift shut, happy to stay in this still, safe bubble with your monk for as long as the outside world will allow.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

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michsmeesh · 7 months ago

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"And as the sky is falling down It crashed into this lonely town And with that shadow upon the ground I hear my people screaming out"

i'm alive hiii helloo

thought i might as well post this john thing for my great return

also just letting y'all know that i'm gonna start using this account to spread awareness about 🍉 because i saw that theres still a lot of people following me (????) and i might as well use my reach on here and reblog stuff. also this is your reminder to do your daily click on arab dot org thanks!

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr1 #red dead redemption 1 #john marston #my art #i forgot how tagging works on here #its been too long i fear

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crowleys-bentley-and-plants · 10 months ago

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From Eden - a Good Omens poem

I was reading pride and prejudice and came to a particularly exciting bit and had to take a break, so here's another blackout poem :)) also a lil hozier reference for you all :)

Crawly stared at the angel.

His hands looked so cold,

And he thought

"If you come back to me,

I'm not sure

I can do the right thing

and look away."

We're still at the very beginning of the book, im thinking of making a kinda story about them with the blackout poems from the book in chronological order idk if this makes sense hahah but like the further along i am in the book the further the story progresses does this make any sense??

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated!💙

hello lovely peepz :) @bearthewhipsandscornsoftime @eybefioro @foolishlovers @ineffabildaddy @ficreader500 @di-42 @ghostsparrow @seven-stars-in-his-palm @red-sky-in-mourning @lickthecowhappy @crowleyholmes @notagoodlad @dzikiemaliny @crowleys-curl @prettycottagequeer @chaoticgayomens @idliketobeatree @halemerry @divorce-enjoyer (you all made me smile with your tags and stuff so i hope you dont mind me tagging y'all)

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #original poem #good omens poem #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #go2

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imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

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Part 7: Home

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

These hands had to let it go free and this love came back to (us)

(In which with bittersweet feelings, a nostalgic writer, finally writes the end of the story)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 7.1K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Hello my loves! I can't believe we've actually reached the end, who would have thought huh? I'm not sure if there will be an epilogue, mainly cause I don't know what I'd write but never say never. I don't really know how I feel about this chapter and if I've done the end I pictured justice but I really hope y'all like it anyways. There's a fair amount of creative liberty taken with WNBA logistics but please just accept it for the plot. Per usual, did I edit? Yes. Are there grammar mistakes and typos anyways? Yes. As always, let me know what you liked and disliked. And finally, to all my lovelies who have liked, reblogged, commented, sent in an ask, dm-ed me or simply just silently read this fic, I just wanna say thank you guys so, so, much, y'all have made writing every word worth it and I hope you enjoyed reading this as much I enjoyed writing it <3

August 2018

Paige swears, tonight, there are stars in the Minnesota night sky she’s never seen before in her life. The summer sky has darkened with nightfall, yet the shine of the moon and its companions make it still seem ever so bright. Or maybe, it’s just the girl lying next to Paige that makes tonight feel luminescent, sparkling with the promises of something not quite like friendship that Paige has never felt before. She’d spent the whole day with Azzi at the Minnesota State fair, trying to suppress these new butterflies in her stomach that seemed to have taken birth over their time in Latvia. Or well, maybe they’d been there from the start, but they’d really only started this dance of theirs, the one that makes Paige feel all tingly when Azzi smiles, over the course of this summer.

“Paige it’s cold, stop hogging the blanket,” Azzi chastises, breaking Paige from a trance, as she tugs on the pink and purple blanket covering the two of them, “I knew we should have brought two of them.”

“It’s barely on me” Paige argues for the sake of arguing but she shifts anyway to allow the younger girl to pull the blanket, so clearly meant for one person, a little more towards her, “besides, it’s about sharing body heat.”

“You’re not even warm enough to share body heat,” Azzi mocks as she makes a show of tracing a finger down Paige’s arm and everything in the blonde feels like it’s been lit on fire at the touch. And she wonders if Azzi feels it too, the electricity, the sparks of this could ruin me that scatter through her veins before finding themselves setting her heart ablaze. It’s too much and Paige shakes Azzi’s hand off with a little more force than she means too.

When Azzi sends her questioning look, she splutters through an excuse, “your hands are cold too. Can we just do the boring shit we’re here to do.”

"Stargazing is not boring,” Azzi says indignantly, opening the little stargazing booklet she’d brought with her, flicking through the pages looking for something specific.

To be honest, sitting still in an open field and squinting at the sky trying to figure out a distant constellation isn’t really Paige’s brand of entertainment. She’s a fidgety person by nature, constantly embroiled in the urge to be moving. But Azzi had brought it up the other day, with pleading eyes and a hopeful grin and well, sometimes it felt sinful to deny Azzi of anything she wants. And that’s how they’d ended up at a campsite, not too far from the State fair, lying on the grass, heads tilted towards each other, with a single blanket shielding them from the summer breeze.

“Okay,” Azzi says after a while, using her fingers to point out a pattern in the sky, “I think that one’s Cassiopeia.”

“If you say so,” Paige nods, not really sure what she’s supposed to be looking at.

“Paaaaige,” Azzi whines, “focus.”

“Dude I can barely see anything, the fuck am I supposed to focus o-”

Before Paige can finish her sentence, she feels herself being pulled by the younger girl, the side of her body fitting into the crook’s of Azzi’s like a perfect puzzle piece. She looks over at the brunette, and the protest dies on the tip of her tongue, as she realises just how close Azzi is to her now, all semblance of air leaving her lungs. Paige gulps, eyes tracing every inch of her best friend’s face, stopping of their own accord at Azzi’s lips, before guiltily flashing back to meet the younger girl’s eyes which are just as focused on Paige. And it feels like there’s no force in this world right now that could make either of them look away. Except maybe the force of friends don’t do this.

“Just focus,” Azzi breaks contact first, turning her face back at the stars, before gently grabbing hold of Paige’s hand so she can guide it in the pattern of the constellation. And Paige still doesn’t really see it, doesn’t even particularly care about seeing it, but if it gets Azzi to hold her hand, soft skin putting light pressure against her palm, she thinks she’ll try to see some random lines in the sky forever.

“It’s pretty.”

“You don’t see it do you?”

“Nope,” Paige’s grin widens when Azzi chuckles, shaking her head fondly. Something in her blooms, delighted at being the reason for that. And she’s always prided herself in being funny, she thinks of herself as a little bit of a comedian really, but she’s never wanted to make anyone laugh quite as much as she wants to make Azzi laugh.

“Well that’s enough stargazing for us then,” Azzi rolls her eyes, closing her little booklet and making a move to sit up but Paige is quicker, pulling the younger girl back down and interlocking their fingers. Her own overeagerness causes a tinge of embarrassment to race up her cheeks, and she hopes it’s dark enough that Azzi won’t see the pale pink blush taking over her face.

“It’s peaceful out here,” she says quietly, sounding shy even to her own ears and she can’t help but wonder when the hell that happened, “you wanna stay a little longer?”

“Yeah okay let’s stay longer,,” Azzi agrees and sometimes when Azzi speaks like that, her voice lyrically soft with a secret smile hidden in it, Paige wonders if maybe it would be okay to hope for, to feel something more because maybe, just maybe, Azzi feels it too.

“You know you should come to the state championship,” Paige says after a second of silence, trying to keep her voice nonchalant but she can hear the wishfulness bleeding into it anyways.

Azzi raises an eyebrow, “isn’t that in March? That’s like months and months away.”

“Yeah but- well-” Paige shrugs, cheeks burning just a little bit, “you probably wanna book in advance cause like tickets and stuff you know?”

“You don’t even know if you’ll be in the state championship. There’s still a whole season to go.”

“Oh I know. I know we’re definitely gonna be there.” Paige smirks, cockiness back in full-fledged form.

“Then I’ll be there,” Azzi says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world, “you better win though Bueckers.”

“Watch me,” and she’s jutting her chest out in arrogance sure, but really everything inside her is swelling with something else, a feeling she’s starting to understand a little too well, a feeling that terrifies her, a feeling she doesn’t think she’s quite ready to let herself feel yet, “it would be nice you know, to win a championship together at some point.”

“I don’t think my parents would be on board with moving to Minnesota.”

“I’m sure I could convince them,” Paige feels a little giddy at the thought, “but I meant more like college, like UConn.”

It’s a topic they’ve stumbled upon a couple of times, with each other, and with the other girls at Team USA. And as much as Paige would love for her other teammates to follow her to her dream school, she’s practical enough to know they might have other priorities. But the thing is that with the rest of the girls, it’s just something she’d like to happen but with Azzi, now that Paige has said it out loud, she’s beginning to realise how desperately she wants that, her and Azzi, on the same team, fighting the same battles and winning the same wars, together.

“Don’t think you can win a national championship without me Bueckers?” Azzi smirks, twisting her head towards Paige, eyebrows cocked in arrogance.

“Of course I can,” Paige’s face softens, the vulnerability that only ever seems to come out around her best friend seeping on to her features, “but I think it would be fun to win one with you. Someday.”

“Someday, “ Azzi whispers back, giving Paige’s hand a light squeeze, and then her eyes widen at the sky, “holy shit is that a shooting star? Oh my god Paige look up, quick, it’s beautiful.”

In the dark of the night, a rare flicker of gold shoots across the obsidian Minnesota sky. Paige has never seen one before but it seems fitting really, that she’d see one tonight.

“We have to make a wish,” she whispers and Azzi, never one to really believe, rolls her eyes but she follows Paige’s lead, closing her eyes. And the thing is Paige could wish for a lot of things really, but she finds herself thinking of only one word that sums up all she could ever want: someday.

***

August 2026

They’ve been playing against each other for years now and yet the thrill of the face-off still hasn’t quite worn off. Back in the handful of games in high school, it had been quickfire friendly trash talk, two best friends going at it like the competitors they were. College had been drastically different, each game, each play, underlined with the tension of two people who still hadn’t quite figured it out. But Paige thinks her favourite version of them as opponents is definitely this one, the one where they might be on different teams in the WNBA, but off the court, they both know they’re on the same side, together.

Their relationship isn’t quite a secret; it would have been impossible to hide if after the kiss at the 2025 national championship. But they’d kept as quiet about it as possible, skillfully dodging media questions, wanting to shelter it from the prying eyes of the public. It makes playing each other on national television, just that little bit more entertaining, trying to keep things as cordial as possible. If Paige’s hands end up just a little too close to Azzi’s waist, lingering a little longer than necessary against the patch of skin she’d marked with a hickey earlier this morning, and it makes the younger girl shiver, then that’s just a tactic to win. And if Azzi breathes seductive thoughts of what she’d like to do after the game when guarding Paige, and it makes the blonde want to turn around and kiss the smirk off of her girlfriend’s lips, well that’s just another innovative defensive strategy.

“Be a good girl for me and move,” Paige whispers, the double entendre in her voice apparent, as she tries to dribble the ball past Azzi. There’s only a minute or so left in the last meeting of the regular season between Paige’s Lynx and Azzi’s Mystics -funny how that had worked out- and the score is painfully close, with the Mystics closing in on the Lynx’s two point-lead.

“Always a good girl for you P,” Azzi smirks, her voice the quietest it could possibly be, but Paige hears her next words like they’re on a loudspeaker in the area, “it’s why I’m wearing your favourite purple panties.”

It takes a second, a second where Paige’s eyes gloss over with lust, as her mind rushes back to the last time she’d seen, the last time she’d touched the silky undergarment, for the ball to be stolen from her hands. She’s a step too slow to recover and by that time Azzi’s already scored the easy lay-up to tie up the game, a mischievous grin adorning her normally stoic game face.

On the other end of the court, Napheesa draws a foul and Paige and Azzi end up next to each for free throws. Paige is seething, unsure if the heat curling up her spine is from the game or the girl standing next to her.

“Sorry baby, all’s fair in love and war right?” Azzi teases, pinky brushing against the blonde’s, “I’ll make it up to you later if you want.”

“You’re such a fucking menace,” Paige practically growls. She does want, in fact she’d like it right now if it was possible. Two years they’ve been together, longer if you count the inbetween, and still, every time Azzi lights a match, Paige feels herself burn just as brightly as the first time she’d felt that magnetic pull.

“Learnt from the best,” Azzi hums with a grin as Napheesa hits both free throws.

The rest of the game passes in a blur of frenzied shots and hurried fouls but the Lynx pull out an eventual, much-needed win, to better their chances of clinching a higher seed in the playoffs. After missing the playoffs in 2024, the Lynx, despite having relatively low odds, had secured the no.1 pick and there had never really been a doubt that they would pick Paige. She’d helped the team get back to the playoffs last season but they hadn’t made it out of the first round. A championship doesn’t seem quite possible yet, but Paige has her fingers crossed that they’d at least make it to a semi-final this time.

“The two of you are terrible at this,” Aaliyah’s the first person to hug Paige during the handshake line, “I thought you’d jump each other’s bones in the middle of the game today.”

“We’re not that bad,” Paige rolls her eyes at her former teammate. She high-fives a few more of the Mystics team until she gets to Azzi, who’s already smiling, despite the loss. The cameras are quick to crowd them, clearly wanting a more sensational picture than the one they’re likely to get. Still, despite the unwanted attention, Paige lets herself nestle into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

“You owe me twice tonight,” she whispers into the younger girl’s ear, “one for the win and one for that bullshit you pulled on the court tonight.”

Azzi’s voice is breathless when she replies, “I can give you way more than two.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a promise.”

***

“With the new rules, after this season you’ll be a free agent, have you given any thought to that?”

Waiting for the Lynx’s turn in the media room, Paige hadn’t been paying much attention to the questions being asked to the Mystics players, her focus solely on how hot her girlfriend always looked post games. But the words ‘free agent’ pique her interest. The W had changed the rookie contract rules for first round draftees to two years and that meant both Paige and Azzi would be free agents after this year. But while it hadn’t reached the media quite yet, the Lynx were likely to use their core designation on Paige. Which meant the only one of them making any decision about next season would be Azzi. It was a subject the two of them were cautiously tip-toeing around, using the shield of distance to avoid talking about what it could mean for them.

“I’m focused on the season, this team and the rest of our games. I’m not really thinking about the future,” Azzi answers diplomatically.

“You’ve obviously got very strong ties to the DC area but you also went to UCLA, if the Sparks or maybe even the Valkyries, considering your connection to Steph Curry, were interested, and there have been rumours that they are, would you consider it?” the same reporter prods.

“Again, I’m not currently thinking about any of that,” to anyone else Azzi probably sounds neutral but Paige has studied the sheet music of Azzi’s voice to the point where she knows what’s hidden behind every note, behind every little indent. The tinge of irritation is masked by a smile, but the line of questioning is clearly unappreciated.

“And what about the Lynx?” the persistently oblivious reporter continues and this time Paige sucks in a breath, “you have some ties to that team don't you? Have you given some thought to maybe going there?”

Azzi’s eye twitches ever so slightly, “the Lynx just beat my team. The only thoughts I have right now are about how to beat them next time.”

That elicits a laugh from the media and finally the rather obtuse reporters seem to understand that he’s not going to be able to pry anything newsworthy from Azzi’s mouth. But even if he hasn’t achieved his desired effect, he’s succeeded in making Paige’s mind start running in circles. She hadn’t let herself think about it yet, the potential of Azzi joining the Lynx, the potential of playing with Azzi, the potential of finally just being with Azzi. Because facing the potential for all of that, facing all the things she wants means also facing the potential that maybe Azzi doesn’t want any of that.

***

The air in Paige’s living room is thick with a suffocating tension as she and Azzi sit on opposite ends of the couch. It reminds Paige a little bit of the before, a dreaded version of them she’d foolishly thought they grown out of, until something reminiscent of their past problems had reared its ugly head, and suddenly it feels a bit like she’s playing a losing game.

“Will you please stop that,” she bites out, referring to where Azzi’s foot is incessantly tapping on the wooden floors, “it’s giving me a headache.”

Azzi’s eyes narrow, flashing with irritation, “is it my tapping or the alcohol giving you a headache Paige?”

“I didn’t even drink that much,” Paige says through gritted teeth and Azzi scoffs.

It’s a lie. After both teams were done with post game pressers, she, Azzi and a couple of the other girls had ended up at a local bar as they often did when the other team didn’t have to fly out til the next day. Paige had been tense the whole evening and trying to pretend not to be, especially when Azzi could see right through her façade, had only made the whole thing worse. She wasn’t one to drink too much, always happy just being sufficiently tipsy but then she’d gotten in her head too much. And when the first shot didn’t quite hit the way she needed it to, she’d kept on going, receiving worried looks from all the girls, until Azzi had finally stepped in. The ride back from the bar had been a sobering experience, one look at Azzi’s stoic face, giving away her irritation.

“That’s why you still reek of tequila?”

“How the fuck would you know? You haven’t come near me all night.”

“Don’t you dare try and turn this on me Paige. I tried to talk to you all night til you decided you wanted to act like freshman frat boy,” Azzi spits out, hurt and anger colliding in her voice, “we barely get to spend time together during the season and the one night in forever that we do, you pull this shit?”

They haven’t had an argument like this since they’ve been officially together, the kind of argument that has them balancing on a delicate tight rope, too afraid to take a step backwards in their relationship, and too prideful to take a step forward towards each other.

“I didn’t think you cared about spending time together during the season,” Paige accuses and there’s a sensible part of her, one that’s currently being held captive by the dangers of liquor, that knows it’s a ridiculous allegation.

Azzi stares at her, lips opening and closing in disbelief, “excuse me?”

“It’s pretty simple really Azzi. If you wanna spend the whole season together, the option is right fucking there, but I- I can’t even tell if you’re interested in taking it,” Paige is pacing now, teeth gnawing at her lips like they always do when she’s nervous.

“What- what are you even talking about?” Azzi asks, clearly confused.

“Free fucking agency. They asked you about it and you said you hadn’t thought about it at all. That’s really great to hear Az, really great to know you haven’t thought about how that could literally change our whole fucking life,” and even as the words waterfall out of her mouth, Paige knows she’s being unreasonable, but the mix of stress and alcohol churning in her stomach is just enough to keep her from taking the words back.

“I didn’t- that’s not even what I said. Jesus fucking christ Paige,” Azzi rubs her face, looking defeated.

“So you have thought about it then?”

“Of course I’ve thought about it, “ Azzi throws her hands up, “but I wasn’t gonna tell the media about all of that. But you- you seriously think I haven’t thought about what this means for us? You don’t- do you really think I’m not thinking about you- about us- while trying to make this decision?”

“Well you definitely didn’t think of me- of us- when you chose UCLA,” Paige’s eyes widen at her own words, knowing immediately that of all things she could have said, those were the worst ones, “I- I didn’t mean it like that.”

In front of her, Azzi has gone deathly still, face completely devoid of emotion, until the first tear drops and all of Paige’s anger dissipates, the guilt clawing back with full force.

“I thought we were over that,” Azzi whispers, voice trembling, as she looks down at her hands, “but maybe we’ll never be over that.”

“We are,” Paige sinks to her knees in front of the younger girl, tugging Azzi’s hands into her own, “we are over it. I just- it just slipped out.”

Azzi’s quiet for a moment before she pulls her hands out of the blonde’s grip, sidestepping her as she stands up and Paige feels empty and cold and just a little bit broken.

“Are you leaving?” she whispers, peering up at Azzi through tear soaked eyelashes.

“I think I should, before anything else just slips out,” Paige flinches and Azzi’s expression softens, “I know- I know you didn’t mean it like that but I just- I need some space.”

Panic filters into Paige’s lungs, wrapping its dirty hands and squeezing so tight that she can barely breathe. She’s not sure when she’ll see Azzi again, now that there’s no more Lynx-Mystics games left in the regular season and it’s unlikely with their expected seedings that they’d meet at some point in the playoffs. It’s not like distance is new to them, but in the last two years, they’ve only ever said goodbye with an i love you attached to the end.

“Are you-,” Paige gasps for air, “are you leaving me?”

And it must be written all over Paige's face, just how petrified she is of this moment, because that's all it takes for Azzi to rush back into Paige’s space, hands cupping her cheeks, “oh baby of course not. I just- you’re still drunk and I’m upset and I don’t want us to say anything we don’t mean. And I- need time to think about free agency and I think you- you need time to think about why that slipped out.”

Paige sighs, melting into Azzi’s touch as the knots in her stomach begin to untangle themselves, “you’re so logical.”

“Someone has to be,” a half-smile flitters across the younger girl’s face as she wipes at Paige’s tears, “we’ll figure this out okay? Just- just give me a little bit of time.”

Give me time. It’s a familiar line, so similar to what Azzi had asked for when she was making a decision about college and Paige would be lying if she said there isn’t a part of her that’s terrified fate is going to make them repeat the same mistakes. But part of growing up, Paige surmises, is letting time test you with the same trials and tribulations, and the next time, coming out of the other end on the right side.

And so she squeezes Azzi’s hand, matching the younger girl's half smile, with a soothing one of her own, “okay.”

***

November 2027

Paige doesn't know when she ended up in a love triangle with Azzi and the state of California but she wishes she was competing against an actual person. At least then she could throw a punch at the other guy. The W season is barely over and it seems like every front office has thrown themselves headfirst into convincing free agents to join their team. There’s a couple of teams interested in Azzi, but no one seems to be trying harder than the Los Angeles Sparks. Paige thinks whoever gave that city a name meaning “the angels” could not have been more wrong because really it’s a city full of devils constantly trying to steal her girl and no she’s not being dramatic.

They’re supposed to be leaving for thanksgiving dinner when Azzi’s phone rings and Paige can’t help but roll her eyes when Cameron Brink’s name flashes on the CallerID. The Sparks seemed to have put her as head of their recruiting Azzi campaign and Cam had been diligently doing her part.

“Azzi, Cam’s calling again,” Paige yells out to her girlfriend who’s still not quite finished getting ready.

“Can you pick it up?”

“Do I have to?”

“Paige,” Azzi whines and Paige sighs, hitting the green answering button.

“The amount of times you’ve called my girlfriend this week, Brink, should I be concerned?”

“Jealous I’m replacing you as her favourite blonde?” Cam’s voice always sounds like she’s smiling and Paige can’t help her own smile. Goddamn Cameron Brink for always being the sweetest soul on this planet.

“As if,” Paige scoffs, “it’s a holiday Cam, give the recruiting a rest.”

“Hey, I’m just calling to wish her a happy thanksgiving,” Cam defends.

“Mmmhmm where’s my thanksgiving wish?”

“Oh please, the two of you are basically a unit. Wishing her is wishing you,” Cam is quiet for a second before speaking again, “the Sparks would be a good fit for her Paige.”

Paige sucks in a sharp breath, “I’m not the one you’re gonna have to convince.”

“I know but you know your opinion means a lot to her. I know you want her in Minnesota and she'd be good there too and I- I know it isn’t my place to say any of this but just- just don’t discourage her from doing what’s best for her,” there’s not a hint of malice in Cam’s words, there never is, but they pierce at Paige’s skin anyways.

“Okay I’m ready, hand me the phone,” she’s saved from having to answer by Azzi waltzing into the living room and prying the phone from her hands.

Paige watches silently as Azzi talks animatedly with Cam, noticing the way her girlfriend’s smile widens while talking about certain spots in L.A. They’d subconsciously decided not to breach the subject of free agency after that night. Paige hadn’t interfered in any of the Lynx’s conversations with Azzi, deciding that this time, she’d stay out of it. It hadn’t been easy, every little bit of her itching to pitch why the Lynx were the perfect fit, why Paige was the perfect fit, but she was determined to give Azzi the space -the time- she’d wanted. This time she’d leave the choice solely up to Azzi and whatever she decided, Paige would find her happiness in that.

“Paige you ready to go,” Azzi waves a hand in front of Paige’s face, eyebrows raised in question when the older girl doesn’t make a move to get off the sofa, “hey, you good?”

“Cam says the Sparks would be a good fit,” Azzi stiffens at Paige’s words.

“Paige-”

“She’s right,” Paige concedes, fingers fidgeting as she averts Azzi’s gaze.

The younger girl blinks at her, clearly not having expected that, “she is?”

“Yeah. They need a shooting guard and you,” Paige smiles, reaching out to pull Azzi onto the couch with her, “you’re the best there is.”

“I wouldn’t go that far-”

“You are to me and it’s why I want you on the Lynx,” they both let out a breath with that. It’s not a secret of course but Paige hasn’t said it out loud before.

“Paige-”

“But it’s okay if you don't wanna be on the Lynx, if you wanna be on the Sparks or stay here with the Mystics or on any other team, if you think it’s the right move for you and for your career then that’s fine. It’s okay and you don’t- you don’t need my permission or anything of course but I just- whatever you decide, I’ll support it okay? What I said that night about UCLA- it wasn't- it wasn’t about you. I thought about it like you asked me to and it’s me. I was scared that I would fuck it up again and I’d lose you again-”

“You won’t,” Azzi grabs Paige’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “I won’t let you.”

“I know. I know now that whatever happens, we’ll be okay. And so you can choose whatever team you want and it won’t- it won’t affect us, I promise. It won’t be like last time I swear. When you make your decision- I just- I don’t want you to make it for me or for us, cause you and me? Baby we’ll be just fine no matter what. Wherever you go and wherever I am, we’ll make it work, just as we have for the last two years,” Paige smirks, “besides I kinda enjoy kicking your ass.”

Azzi lets out a snort as she climbs onto Paige’s lap, thighs straddling her hips, “you really had to ruin it with that last part huh?”

“Was getting a little too sappy for me,” Paige mumbles and when she looks up, the emotions floating in Azzi’s eyes make Paige’s heart stutter. Because no one else gets this Azzi. This Azzi, who wears her heart on her sleeve, who lets her walls down, only for Paige’s eyes to see, only for Paige’s mind to memorise, only for Paige’s heart to keep.

“You mean it?” Azzi whispers, brushing a strand of hair out of Paige’s face, touching lingering, “you’d be okay with anything?”

“Yeah, yeah I do,” Paige cups Azzi’s cheeks, brushing her lips against the younger girl’s, “whatever you choose, we’ll be fine. No matter what, I believe in us.”

***

January 2028

Paige groans when her phone rings at 2 a.m., fumbling around in the dark trying to answer it.

“I swear you better be dying if you’re calling me this late,” she grumbles into the phone, voice scratchy with sleep.

“Not quite,” Azzi says, and Paige’s eyebrows furrow at the amount of background noise she can hear behind her girlfriend.

“Dude where the hell are you at 3 in the morning?” she asks, now a little more awake as she sits up.

“I uh- I had a bit of a revelation,” and Paige can practically picture Azzi, wherever she might be, fidgeting with her fingers and biting her lips.

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

“I know. I know. Shit, I was supposed to do this in person. I had a whole plan but apparently being with you has made me impatient,” Azzi rambles.

“You’re still not making any sense,” but Paige’s heart is starting to beat erratically fast in anticipation.

“I had this realisation while I was in the gym today, it was really quiet and peaceful and I was fine you know- all day I was fine- just doing daily routines and then I just- I missed you. I miss you all the time do you know that?”

Paige does know, knows it far too well. Sometimes she thinks missing Azzi comes as naturally as breathing, an innate part of her day to day, a constant ache that she’s felt since she was 15.

“I miss you too,” she whispers.

“And I’ve learned to survive with that feeling, with missing you constantly. I mean it’s been more than 10 years at this point, how could I not? But what I realised today is that just because I can- just because I can live missing you- doesn’t mean I want to.”

“What are you saying Azzi?”

“DC is my childhood. My family is close to there, it’s part of where I grew up. It’ll always be my first home. And LA is where I found myself, my identity, and for a while it felt like home too.”

“Azzi,” Paige breathes out, hands gripping the phone as tight as possible, wrapping that one syllable in emblems of give me forever.

“But my forever home isn’t in DC or LA and it’s not really in any other place either because- Jesus this might be the clichést thing I’ve ever said but-,” Azzi lets out a chuckle, “my home is wherever you are Paige. Wherever we’re together, that’s home.”

It feels a little bit like the end of a drought, the wetness on Paige’s cheeks like the rain that comes after. In the pitch black of her room, phone clutched closely to her ear with Azzi’s words floating through it like a swan song, Paige swears she’s never felt the world glow quite like this before.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“Beating your ass has been fun as hell but I think we’d make a pretty good team Bueckers.”

And it’s a good thing Paige’s walls are soundproof because the delighted whoop she lets out practically vibrates around the room, all previous wisps of tiredness completely gone from her body. Azzi lets out a tearful laugh and Paige wishes they were together right now so she could tattoo this happiness onto both of their skins.

“The greatest team ever,” Paige affirms, “When are you com-”

“Attention passengers Delta Airlines Flight 1248 to Minneapolis will be boarding soon, please have your passport and ticket ready to check at the gate.”

“About that,” Azzi says shyly as Paige’s mouth drops open at the announcement, “I uh- I had a moment of spontaneity.”

“Who the hell are you and what have you done with my overthinking girlfriend?” Paige demands and Azzi giggles on the other end of line.

“I know it’s last minute, like really last minute and it was meant to be a surprise actually but I just- I really wanna see you. Is that okay?”

“Is that okay? Fuck Azzi, it’s all I want. Baby,” Paige breathes out softly, “come home.”

***

Time isn’t going nearly fast enough Paige thinks as she checks the arrivals board for the nth time. She’d tried for about four seconds to fall back asleep after hanging up the phone but her entire body had been buzzing with excitement. And so she’d gotten to the airport far earlier than necessary, and had maybe one too many cups of coffee if the jittery shake in her left hand is anything to go by.

She swears she feels her before she sees her. The air is electric as if the whole city, the whole state is waiting for Azzi too, for them to get their elusive forever. This moment feels like years in the making, and Paige is ready, ready to grasp it and make it hers. And then there’s Azzi, a clearly chosen-at-last minute wrinkled t-shirt, eyes drooping from the tiredness from not having slept all night, baby hairs in a frenzy across her forehead. To Paige, she’s still the prettiest girl in the entire universe.

Azzi’s eyes scan through the airport until they land on Paige, a dazzling smile illuminating her exhausted features. It’s the exact same smile that Paige had first elicited from her on the flight back from Argentina when she’d told Azzi she had a feeling they'd make great friends. It’s her Paige smile. The world is still for a second, everything melting away except them and the whispers of the journey it had taken them to get to this point. Every delicately placed step towards each other feels like an ode to every year they’d spent apart. And then Paige is running, not caring about everyone else around her. She jumps into Azzi’s arm, all 6 feet of her, tangling her legs around the younger girl's waist while her arms fasten around the neck. It forces Azzi to let go of her small carry-on, not caring that it falls to the floor with a thud, as her hands wrap around Paige’s back, steadying her girlfriend’s weight on top of her.

“You’re here,” Paige whispers, still a little in disbelief, “you’re really here.”

“I’ve been in Minny plenty of times before,” Azzi quips, adjusting her balance to properly hold the girl clinging to her like a koala.

“Shut up you know what I mean. You’re here forever this time.”

“Well I don’t know about forever- OW,” Azzi shrieks, as Paige pinches her arm, “do you want me to drop you woman?”

“You’re never allowed to leave.”

“That sounds vaguely threatening.”

“Good because it definitely is a threat,” Paige says before pulling Azzi into a searing kiss, “welcome home baby.”

***

October 2028

There are moments in life you remember forever. Sometimes you know they’re going to happen, sometimes they take you off guard and sometimes, it’s a combination of both. The Minnesota Lynx’s journey to the WNBA finals this season had always felt inevitable but the journey there, for a team that had unexpectedly fallen to the 4-seed despite pre-season clamour of them being number one, had been filled with bitter losses and moments of pure uncertainty. In a way, it perfectly mirrors Paige and Azzi’s relationship.

There’s 11 seconds separating the Lynx from their 5th championship trophy as they lead the Sky by two points. The crowd is up on their feet, ready for their cheering to turn into roars the minute the final buzzer rings. Paige has the ball in her hands on the inbound, Coach Reeves yelling at her from the bench what to do, as she makes eye contact with Azzi. There are no words, not even a gesture that the other team might be able to interpret, but they know exactly what play they’re about to run.

Truth be told it hadn’t been the seamless transition the two of them had expected when Azzi joined the Lynx. They’d been naive to think years of not playing together wouldn’t have affected the backcourt chemistry they’d had almost instantly once upon a time. The first few games, there had been an embarrassing disconnect between the two of them that had resulted in a nasty berating from Coach Reeves and a subsequent argument between the two of them that had lasted into the next morning. It had taken several more practices, and a couple more games of flailing around, for them to finally become the duo Paige had always known they would.

The game buzzer beeps and Paige throws the ball to Azzi who immediately returns it back to her, and then she’s running off screen after screen to get herself open on the wing, her sweet spot. Paige dribble penetrates into the paint, dragging an extra defender with her as they try to prevent her from getting a layup, the other defender blocks her from stepping back into a pull-up. Azzi’s defender has a momentary lapse in judgement, falling for the age-old trick of thinking she should help on defence, and that’s all it takes. A second for Paige to see Azzi open on the corner and pass it to her. A second for Azzi to shoot it.

The three-pointer falls through the next with a perfect swish. Dagger shot.

A small smile flits across Azzi’s face, the only emotion she’s shown all game and Paige can’t help the much larger grin that starts to flash on her own face. She can almost taste victory on the tip of her tongue, the two seconds left in the game are the only thing separating her from finally getting her version of the things we live for. Behind her she can hear Coach Reeves yelling at them to not foul, the 5-point lead enough of a cushion for them to withstand a last minute shot. But the Sky barely make it over midcourt and when Marina Mabrey heaves up a last second prayer, Paige doesn’t bother to see if it goes in as the buzzer sounds throughout Target Arena. The Minnesota crowd explodes in noise and colour as confetti falls from the sky.

Despite the chaos of everything, Paige has never seen Azzi clearer than in this moment. Since she’d met the girl, in all of Paige’s prayers about winning a championship, one thing had always been constant, that when they’d come true, they’d come true with Azzi by her side. And she had been. The high school state champion, the college national championship, Azzi had been there for both but on the bleachers, as a spectator and as Paige’s biggest fan. But this, winning a championship with Azzi as her teammate, as her ally, as her partner, means something more. This win is theirs.

“Do you remember when we saw that shooting star?” Azzi says softly, as they find their way into each other’s arms, not caring that there’s a thousand cameras capturing their every move. Paige pulls Azzi closer to her, every inch of her body pressing into the other girls until she’s not sure where she begins and where Azzi ends.

“That was years ago,” Paige remarks but she can see it clearly, two young girls underneath the stars, unaware of what their future would be but sure that the other would be in it. Those girls would probably laugh at how long it had taken Paige and Azzi to figure out what had seemed so simple back then.

“Yeah, yeah it was. Do you remember what you wished for?” Azzi asks, smiling when Paige nods, “do you wanna know what I wished for?”

“What did you wish for Az?”

“Before we saw the star you- you said it’d be nice to win a championship together someday. And so I-,” Azzi looks down shyly, “so I wished for someday. I wished for today.”

Paige stares at Azzi, drinking in the sincerity on the shooting guard’s face, silently letting herself absorb the meaning of Azzi’s words. And then she lets out a laugh because of course of course.

“I didn’t realise I’d said anything funny for you to be laughing at me,” Azzi scrunches her nose, looking slightly offended.

“God baby no,” Paige cups Azzi’s face, and she thinks this smile on her face will last forever as long as this is her reality, “I’m not laughing at you. I just- do you know what I wished for?”

Azzi shakes her head.

“This. The same exact thing you did. For someday.”

It’s not quite the shade of blue Paige had imagined them in, the Lynx blue its own shade, something inbetween UConn’s navy one and UCLA’s sky one. But it’s perfect nonetheless. And when Azzi crashes her lips against Paige’s, someday feels a lot like forever and always.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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yyawnjun · 7 months ago

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GETTING USED TO US

biker!mingyu x reader ; summary an unexpected confession between really fast beating hearts ; 1k wc ; fluff !! ; third date w mingyu, nd they're so wipped for each other 🗣 ; likes comments and reblogs are really appreciated ; hope y'all like this mwah ♡ @kflixnet

the wind tickled your face and moved your hair back, you took deep breaths in all your lungs. you moved your arms up, stretching them as much as possible, closed your eyes, and breathed.

with these breathing control exercises, and combined with other concentration activities - you tried to concentrate just on one object and describe it as much as possible - you wanted to occupy your attention while waiting for mingyu. it would be your third date, and he promised you that he would pick you on the motorbike. his motorbike. the one that not even his closest friends (according to wonwoo) had ever managed to even touch. that's why you were nervous about that night, along with the fact that you really liked that boy.

you were waiting for the boy outside your house at 9 p.m., dressed comfortably but elegantly (mingyu promised to take care of the necessary clothing on the motorbike). you were trying to focus on the background music of the bar next door to block out the distracting thoughts that were racing through your head.

all your stoic resistance suddenly collapsed when you noticed from afar a tall boy, with dark and slightly long hair, waving at you with a smile. he arrived carrying a bag and one with a motorcycle helmet. before you knew it, he came close to you, and looked at you through eyes that were filled with a thousand different emotions, shining through like lights in a completely dark sky. you were briefly startled back to reality by the gleam in his eyes, but it was short-lived as he called your name. "hey yn, sorry for my late. have you waited a long time for me?"

"not much. you gave me time to prepare me psychologically" you replied, nodding and looking towards his helmet. he smiled at you, and shortly after you naturally started walking towards where he had parked the motorbike. "is this your first time on a motorbike?" he asked you "I remember I had tried it once, but it was less powerful than yours"

"oh I see, you scared?"

"no," you replied convinced. "look, I see you smiling and opening your eyes wide. now I know how to recognize when you're lying" he replied amusedly. you were about to answer him, but just then you noticed that your eyes were really wide… you giggled and agreed with him. a few seconds later, you arrived at the motorcycle. it was bright red and appeared much larger in real person than in the pictures. mingyu instantly gave you a motorcycle jacket and a helmet that fit you perfectly.

“here, let me help you close it,” he told you while you were busy fixing your helmet. then you saw the boy leaning down and gently pulling the laces to close the helmet. he was almost on his knees on the ground, checking that the helmet was not too tight and that its length was right for turning on the headphones that would be connected to it during the trip. you remained stayed and barely swallowed so as not to make too much noise. just proximity had already allowed you to detect the pleasant and refreshing perfume that distinguished him. "perfect, we can go," he said as he immediately got up and put on his helmet. (it's pointless to recall how enchanted you were watching him as he closed his own helmet...)

he got on first and signaled for you to get on, so you did. lifting your left leg first, and helping yourself with your hands resting on the saddle you quickly climbed up. he still had his legs on the ground and the motorbike was spent. after getting in, you instinctively lean against his back. due to the poor visibility given by the helmet, you hadn't realized how big his back was and how well-defined his muscles were, despite them being hidden by the motorcycle jacket. “you can hold on to me…” you heard directly in your ears. you immediately understood that it was due to the Bluetooth headphones that connected the two helmets. “…or there is a handle behind which you can hold” mingyu finished the sentence.

"all right," you replied placing your arms around his waist, and your hands gently on his hips.

"are you ready?" he asked you. "let's go" you replied convinced and unconsciously squeezing your hands at his sides making him give in to that contact.

noise and lights. mingyu lifts his legs from the ground, lowers his helmet visor, and takes off. and so you left. You went through the city, till you reached more rural places and long trails between the fields.

the speed increased as soon as you arrived there. you felt your heart racing, but you were getting used to the adrenaline-fueled sensation. the tension in your hold had gradually relaxed, and the wind on you made you feel more alive than ever. "woah," you said without realizing it, out of joy.

in response, you heard his laugh and a slight increase in speed. that speed made us feel it, but your feeling of safety returned as soon as you leaned on the boy with your helmet. you wanted to talk and express the thousand emotions that had gripped you at that moment. "MINGYU THIS IS FANTASTIC OH MY GOD"

"you'll have to get used to it," he replied

“yeah...I think I might get used to it"

"is that a yes?" the boy asked you with a seemingly confident voice. "are you asking me to get used to your bike or you?"

"to us"

and for the umpteenth time that day, that boy made your heart beat wildly.

"yes mingyu. it is a yes"

And as you rushed through the night, the stars witnessed that lovely first manifestation of you both.

#k labels #k - labels #seventeen #seventeen x reader #mingyu x reader #mingyu fluff #svt x reader #seventeen x yn #mingyu #kim mingyu #svt

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jaylaxies · 1 year ago

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CONFLICT OF INTEREST

PAIRING: pool cleaner!heeseung × rich fem!reader

GENRE/CW: slightly perv!heeseung, profanities, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), slight voyeurism, mentions of sunghoon, slight public sex, fingering and cunnilingus, penetration, usage of nicknames and degradation.

WC: 6.7k (6701) words

SYNOPSIS: spending all his money on video games, heeseung was left with no other choice but to work part time to earn some extra cash, he was overwhelmed to find out how much your father was willing to pay for a pool cleaner, grabbing that opportunity and applying for the same, not knowing that he’d be dealing with a spoiled little princess, who’s also a feast for his eyes.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: ohmygod hello everyone, guess who’s back after the longest break ever! i missed writing so much and i couldn’t come back here without a fic for y’all sooo have this lil gift from me! <3 also thankyou sm @criceofpain for helping me w the title! i hope y'all will enjoy this! :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are so highly appreciated! it keeps me motivated! iloveyou all <33

Silence.

That’s all you heard after waking up from your cozy sleep. Living in a mansion like yours would be everyone’s dream. Having rich and working parents only added on to that, giving others a misconception of how your life would be full of freedom.

You had more than fifteen rooms in your ‘small mansion’, three of them being reserved for the stay-in staff. They felt more like family to you than your own family did, your parents being absent whenever you needed them the most, you could count the times you saw them in a year.

Which brings you back to how you developed the need to be a brat — to grab your parent’s attention. It started off when you were a kid, stayed as you grew up into an adult, coming to a stage where you completely disregarded other’s feelings, not having in you to pay attention to them.

Being called a ‘rich brat’ was something you’d grown accustomed to, no one tried to get close to you in order to find your true personality, they only came for money and a short lived reputation of being your ‘friend’.

“You have to stop texting while eating, darling,” your mother’s voice boomed up in the expansive area of your dining room.

The irk in her usual dulcet voice was enough for you to understand that her current tone was laced with disappointment, your father barely speaking anything as usual, plausibly not finding you important enough to waste his energy on.

You simply hated when your parents were back at home, invading your personal space, it was one of the rare times they came back without much of an announcement, ruining your whole week, knowing they’d pass comments which would lead to massive breakdowns and again, not a single soul would help you through it, you’d be alone, as always.

Instead of eating, you found that playing with your spoon and salad would be a better option, your appetite leaving the second you learned about your parent’s arrival.

They were quick eaters, leaving you to eat by yourself soon after ruining your day. You sighed, getting up to shower, punching the hard tiled wall to release your pent up frustration, secretly hoping to find someone who’d care for you genuinely, unlike your parents who did so superficially.

The weather was rather breezy, clouds covering up the sky, resembling your mood in a manner. You were quick to dress up in your newest Chanel outfit, matching it with the perfect pair of heels you could find in your never ending walk-in closet.

Dressing up was therapeutic for you. It gave you confidence to portray yourself just how you’d wanted to, strong and bold, not requiring anyone’s support.

Isa:

Let’s skip the first lecture today :3

You:

Can’t, my parents are back at home, and if they find out abt me leaving the class thennn :)

Isa:

Babe oh no, I’ll save you a seat and get a frappe for you :(

You:

You’re an angel truly, mwah <3

You smiled, locking your phone and getting into your car, deciding to drive by yourself today. Isa was your best friend and you’d swear she was the only person who understood you on the spiritual basis, having gone through the same story of having absentee parents.

The difference would be your personality, hers being sweet and bubbly, yours being bratty and intimidating. You complemented each other perfectly.

The guards opened the gate to your mansion for you to drive away, your eyes rolling at the sight of a poster mentioning how your family needed a pool cleaner.

“Why did they build three pools if they couldn’t even maintain it, bet they haven’t once used it,” you muttered under your breath.

You didn’t notice a boy stopping by to read the very same poster just as you drove away.

He was quick to click a picture of the very same, making sure he doesn’t forget the details given below, walking further towards the mansion adjacent to yours, waiting in front of the huge gate which opened up as his friend came into view with his car, asking him to get inside the car quickly.

“The fuck were you waiting for there? We’re late already!” Sunghoon asked, running his hands through this hair as he stepped on the accelerator.

“I’m broke,” Heeseung explained, causing Hoon to laugh out of nowhere.

“Yeah? Spent all your money on video games again?” He asked, amused.

Heeseung rolled his eyes, “yeah, but it was a limited edition and I had to get it!” He argued, “and now my parents have decided to not give me pocket money for the whole month. I’ll have to earn it someway or the other.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you were standing in front of Y/n’s place.”

“Y/n? I don’t know, I saw this poster saying that they needed a pool cleaner and the amount they’re willing to pay is huge,” he explained, already deciding that he’ll apply for it the first thing after school.

“You don’t know her? Where the fuck are you living dude?” Hoon gave him a look.

“What’s so special about her? Is she hot?” Heeseung asked, looking at Hoon who shook his head in disappointment at his friend before simply smirking.

“You’ll see.”

Heeseung wondered if he’d get to see you today. The chances were high with the onset of summer vacation, you’d be at home, however he wasn’t sure if you’d come into his spectrum of vision, he always seemed to miss you by a minute or two.

He was at your place, the guard allowed him to enter and guided him towards the pool area.

He was in shorts and a casual T-shirt as his job would most definitely cause him to get wet while getting the pool cleaned.

His lips were bitten in concentration as the house helper guided him as to how to go on about his task, and soon, he was whistling while waiting for the water to be drained out after he used the net to get the leaves and the particles floating around on the water surface.

He decided to sit down on the sunlounger while waiting, scrolling down Instagram to catch up on the posts he had missed.

You were in your room, sighing for the umpteenth time. You hated the atmosphere in your home, it was tense as your parents had fought early in the morning about tarnishing the family reputation.

Ironic coming from them.

Both of them stormed out of the home soon, wanting a break from the other, leaving you all to yourself for the day.

Seeing as you had nothing better to do at the given moment, you opted to go for a swim in the pool as you put on a black one piece swimsuit, taking your sunscreen bottle along with the few things you’d need there.

However, you did not expect to see a stranger casually sitting in one of your sun loungers by the biggest pool as the water drained out, just like the plan you had for swimming.

Ignoring the new addition to your leisure time, you went ahead to sit by the second pool, which was already cleaned by the old cleaner you had hired, the one who left the job out of nowhere.

The water was lukewarm when you dipped your legs in it, kicking the water softly, which gained the attention of the boy in shorts.

His whistling stopped as he stared at your side profile from a distance, eyes taking in your figure which was clad in black which fit you well, he gulped, his tongue swiped down his lower lip when his eyes stopped to look at your legs, and how glossy and plump your lips looked in the sunlight, the light breeze swayed your open hair and how your hands look so small compared to his, making him wonder how they’d look holding his—

You turned your head to look his way, eyes sharp which was enough to break his train of thoughts, feeling as if you were being stared at, he turned his head in record time to avoid your gaze, and you noticed he was just using his phone.

Shrugging, you got up to get on one of the sun loungers with an umbrella to put on your sunscreen, missing the way Heeseung’s eyes flickered over to you from time to time as he concluded the cleaning process to fill up the freshwater now.

Your skin glowed with the extra moisture from the sunscreen but he noticed how you struggled with rubbing it on your back.

His hands itched to do that for you, he couldn’t take his eyes off you the entire time he was at your place, but what bothered him is that you didn’t look up at him even once, until he got into the stalls and came out after changing into his decent outfit as his shorts had gotten wet from the water.

It was the exact time you got up to get into the newly cleaned pool, “good work—” you started to say.

Heeseung was shocked, he never pegged you to start a conversation, nevertheless, a little smirk settled on his face when he turned around to see your pretty face up close, “Heeseung,” he finished your sentence, “and thank you.”

You nodded in acknowledgment, looking at his face clearly for the first time since he arrived.

He had the most perfect nose you had ever come across, his lips looked delicate and pink, his eyes summing up his face to look innocent, and hair shiny yet messy.

It seemed as if you had eye candy for the job of the pool cleaner.

Without extending the conversation, you got into the pool, soaking up your body fully before you started to swim.

Heeseung stood there watching you shamelessly, hand in his pocket as you stopped to swim closer to the edge, water dripping down your chin as your looked up at him in question, “you can leave now,” you said, but the smirk he had on his face was enough to confirm that his innocent looking eyes are deceiving in all ways.

“I’m just waiting for the helper aunt to get my pay for the day,” he said innocently.

You almost scoffed, “go wait by the front gate,” you said, pointing towards the exit area with a sickeningly sweet smile.

“The view isn’t as nice there,” he nonchalantly said.

“Excuse me?” You said in a beat, looking at him with disbelief.

“I meant, the palm trees and the flowers here are better than the fountain near the gate area, also, the helper aunt asked me to wait here,” he shrugged, acting as if he was naive.

“Right,” you rolled your eyes, “she’s here now you can leave,” you gave him a tight lipped smile, resuming your swimming session.

He tried to contain his laugh, it was already fun to tease you, not to mention how you looked so attractive when wet, in the water of course.

“Good bye then,” he winked at you before leaving.

You watched his long legs quickly getting away from the pool area.

“What a creep,” you muttered, already planning ideas to get him off his high horse.

You were sunbathing the next day, not once thinking that Heeseung would come again, but he did.

He wore a deep grey tank top and black shorts as he focused on cleaning the two smaller pools.

Thankfully, he wasn’t much of a bother that day, he simply did his work, after greeting you with a slick smile, of course.

It was clear that he stopped to stare your way from time to time, you wore dark tinted goggles just to catch him doing so, scoffing before you went inside your room, not having it in you to deal with him.

You loved to swim, it was a major stress reliever for you, the next two days were peaceful for you, your parents were out of town and there was no trace of Lee Heeseung at your place.

Sunghoon had visited you that night, inviting himself in for dinner, wanting to check up on you after hearing the news about your parents arrival.

“—They’re driving me insane, I could be simply breathing, and they would say that I am breathing wrong, I have no clue how to deal with this and I am so tired already, not to mention how the new pool cleaner is so infuriating.” You groaned, finishing up your rant as you filled him in on everything that happened ever since your parents came back.

His eyebrows raised at your last comment, “the new pool cleaner, huh?” He chuckled.

You nodded, taking a bite of the pizza you had ordered, “his name is Heeseung, he’s like an actual creep, he stares at me while working, I literally cannot go to swim whenever he’s around,” you ranted.

“Trust me I know him,” Sunghoon rested his forehead on his hand, not believing that Heeseung would actually act so shamelessly, yet it was comedic in a way.

“You do?” You asked.

“He’s my closest friend, Y/n.” Sunghoon was amused how both you and Heeseung didn’t know about each other up until he started working for you, “you’d know if you liked me even a bit,” he smirked, and looked crazy handsome doing so.

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, glad that Sunghoon was here to lighten up the mood, “I didn't know you had such friends.” Distaste was clear in your voice.

“He’s not a bad guy, okay? He’s just—” Hoon stopped to find the right word.

“Just?” You urged him to continue.

“Just stupid at times, yeah,” he shook his head.

“Right,” you said, laughing.

“If he bothers you, just punch him or whatever,” he said casually.

Maybe you’ll take up on Sunghoon’s advice on that.

The next few days were peaceful, headphones shutting out the world as you completed your holiday assignments sitting at the poolside area with your laptop in front of you, yet he had something or the other to say.

“Oh, you’re doing the assignments already?” He asked over your headphones, speaking loud, standing next to your seat.

You nodded, not giving him the time of your day.

“Do you need help?” He couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Does it look like I want help?” You asked, removing your headphones and shades.

“Honestly? Your essay looks pretty perfect as of now—” he started to comment.

“That was a rhetorical question,” you deadpanned, closing your laptop and going back inside.

You knew he wasn’t this dumb, he just did it on purpose to piss you off, for your attention, just like how you behaved outrageously when you wanted your parents attention.

But Heeseung? He needed to be taught a lesson and that too, very soon.

“No, I can’t come tonight Isa, my parents want to have dinner together like a good family. Isn’t that funny?” You talked to your best friend on call, sitting by the pool yet again.

Your parents were the reason you couldn’t go out of the house anymore, they wanted you to be home, spending quality time with them, which consisted of you being judged for your every move, your parents wanting your mannerism to be proper.

“Can’t they just leave already?” You sighed as Isa tried her best to console you, saying that she’d be there whenever you’d be allowed to go out.

That call definitely heightened your spirits until someone decided to pay your pools a visit again.

One of the helpers had told you that Heeseung wasn’t working today, so you wore your comfortable two piece bikini for the swim, which you deeply regret now.

Heeseung simply wanted to see you, he loved pissing you off, knowing how much his presence bothered you.

That only made him want to do it more.

“Hey, Y/n!” He smiled your way, his perfect set of teeth coming into your vision as you looked up from the magazine you were reading, only to give him a light lipped smile with a nod.

He looked at you in amusement as you didn’t bother to spend a second more looking his way, opting to read your magazine instead.

He was particularly talkative that day, trying to get a reaction out of you but you were patient, not giving in easily until you couldn’t hold back and decided to play his game.

“Do you need help with that?” Heeseung asked, pointing towards the sunscreen which you couldn’t apply properly on your back again, he had noticed how your hands couldn’t reach your back in particular.

He just wanted an excuse to touch your soft looking skin.

Bonus for him, you were wearing a bikini which gave him access to your bare back.

He waited for a witty comeback or straight up rejected but your reply wasn’t something he was expecting, eyes widening just a fraction.

“Oh, yes! Could you please help me put sunscreen on my back?” You looked sincere as you requested this.

“Y—yes, of course I’ll help you, princess,” he smiled after overcoming the shock, rushing to wash his hands clean, despite them being clean already before he came over to you.

“Fuck,” he muttered as he saw you sitting down on the sunlounger with your back exposed to him.

He wasn’t being subtle while staring at your ass either, he was simply glad you were facing the other way as he took some sunscreen and started massaging your shoulders, applying the right amount of pressure.

You bit your lip, hating how good his hands felt massaging your body, but you had it under control.

He took his sweet time rubbing your back, before he reached your lower back. He was having the time of his life, your skin felt even softer than he had imagined and he was surprised about how you didn’t pass any comment throughout this.

Him being sneaky was the exact thing you were waiting for, his hand reaching close to your chest after he applied cream to your clavicle region.

You turned around and grabbed his wrist, bending it down and pulling him close enough to be on your face level, you stopped your mind from accepting how good it felt, you simply hated Heeseung.

“Ouch, fuck,” he cussed, not expecting you to be this strong, the pain subsided in a second as he looked you up close, your scent infiltrating his mind.

“Don’t play with me, Heeseung,” you said in a deeper octave, looking right into his eyes.

He smiled, which only urged you to continue.

“Do you have no shame? I’ll have you fired if you pull this shit again,” you warned him, letting go of his hand and standing up to leave.

However, he was quick to grab your wrist and spin you around, so you bumped right into his chest, which was hard.

“What the fuck—” you exclaimed but your voice died down soon.

His hand reached to the one spot on your neck which had sunscreen that wasn’t spread properly. He simply bit his lip and used two of his fingers to massage that spot on your neck.

It must have been your sensitive spot because your legs suddenly felt like they were jelly, your breathing quickened as you stared at his annoyingly attractive face.

“All done,” he whispered in your ear, leaving your wrist as he only smirked, walking back to do his work, leaving you stunned as you rushed inside due to embarrassment.

No fucking way you enjoyed those ten seconds with him.

As for Heeseung, he couldn’t stop thinking of how hot you looked, trying to be angry but being a mess in his presence, just thinking about your expression and your outfit together gave him a boner.

“Y/n,” he groaned with one hand on the shower wall, supporting his tall frame as the other squeezed his dick, jerking off to your thoughts, “oh god, fuck!” He grunted, thinking about how tight you’d feel around him, the scenarios were enough for him to shoot out his load, smirking at the ideas in his head.

He just needed to push you more.

The events of that day replayed in your mind an unhealthy amount of times, you never wanted to see him again, yet you wanted the exact same thing.

You hated it.

You hated how good it felt, having his big hands on your body and you most certainly didn’t have it in you to face him today.

All you wished for was to read a book in peaceful silence, but yet again, your space was invaded when a certain Bambi eyed boy made an appearance at your place, despite it not being the day of his schedule.

Still, he had the audacity to greet you before he started singing while doing his tasks for the day.

The infuriating part? His voice was a mixture of honey and chocolate, and everything sweet in this world because you had never heard a voice to angelic before.

Not that it was enough to woo you.

Sighing, you closed your book and decided to go for a swim, but again, you were stopped.

“Wait!” Heeseung exclaimed, bringing out the cleaning net to get rid of one leaf that was in the huge pool, looking back at you with a goofy smile as he held the leaf up.

“Okay. So, you stopped me from going in because of a leaf?” You folded your arms on your chest as you tried to make sense of the situation.

“Couldn’t let a princess swim in the dirty pool,” he said, eyes getting bigger, feigning innocence.

He was a nuisance and you were running thin on patience. Your mother had graciously spoiled your day saying your manners are out of line, your father added to it, talking about how vacations were a waste of time for you.

“Aw, really?” You asked, faking your voice to sound sweet and thankful before you took a step close to him.

His eyes looked at you expectantly, but yet again, you pulled something he wasn’t ready for.

With a big smile on your face, you pushed him into the pool, hard and fell down with a big splash.

“Oops,” you said once he came out of the water, brushing his wet hair away as he breathed hard, his clothes clinging on to his body.

He looked hot.

You tried not to look at his body as you bent down to talk to him, “aw, now you’ll have to clean the whole pool, it’s so disgustingly dirty now that you’re in there.” You smiled innocently.

He poked his tongue through this cheek and gave you no time before grabbing onto your arm and pulling you right in with him.

You gasped for air, your whole body getting soaked with water as you came out just in front of him, a devilish smirk on his face.

“Are you insane?” You almost screamed at him but he grabbed your waist and pulled you closer with a serious expression on his face.

You could see his face with the top most clarity up close, his wet hair messily covering his forehead and eyes, still he looked attractive.

“Is this what you do when someone tries to help you, princess?” His voice came out deeper and his hold on you tightened.

You were glad that there were no helpers around the pool area or you would die of embarrassment, not to mention how your parents would react knowing about this situation.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you whispered in the same tone, maintaining the eye contact.

“Yeah, right you think of yourself as the queen,” he went on.

“Stop,” you warned.

“But in reality you’re just a pretty, spoiled princess, aren't you?” He taunted in a voice that gave you goosebumps.

Giggly Heeseung was attractive enough, but him being serious was something that had you in a trance.

“Shut up,” you said in a measly voice, head fuzzy.

“Do I need to show you who you are, huh? You’re a little princess,” he went on.

“Shut the fuck up,” you raised your voice, the feeling down in your lower abdomen was something you hadn’t felt so strongly before.

“Make me,” was all he said with a smirk.

Yet what you did next was something he wasn’t prepared for.

It all happened in less than a second, your fingertips grabbing his chin, pulling him closer to your face with a gasp as you captured his lips into a rushed kiss, his nose poking yours softly.

This man drove you crazy, to the point where you had to give in just to get a taste of him.

He leaned back to look into your eyes, breaking the kiss just to see you breathe in deeper and shy away, but he didn’t let you do that.

His hand rested on the back of your head as he pulled you into a deeper, passionate kiss, causing you to whimper in his mouth, holding on to his shoulders for support.

You gasp as his hands roam around your body, leaving the places where you wanted him to touch you the most, the frustration causing you to moan into his mouth, against his smirk.

It was a rhythm of desire, passion, and exasperation. The kiss got sloppier by second and you both had to lean back to breathe. With your chest heaving up and down, you dared to look into his eyes which were clouded with lust.

Each touch, each movement from his side impacted your body in a way you never thought it would, you shivered with his touch, the smirk never leaving his lips.

“So sensitive,” he muttered, trailing his finger down your body as you still held on to him, your legs felt weaker than ever.

“Heeseung—” you tried to speak up, but only a moan left your mouth when he traced his finger on your clothed pussy.

“Guess what, princess? You’re wet,” he pointed out, coming closer to bite your ear, causing you to squirm in his hold, “and it’s not because of the water.”

“Fuck,” you let out, mind going blank.

You loved being in control, putting people in their places and ordering them around. But you never thought that being treated like this would arouse you to this point.

To the point that you’d let Heeseung do anything.

He took you out of the pool, dragging you to the changing stalls, pushing you against the door after he locked it.

“You look so innocent, I could ruin you,” he said, folding his long fingers around your neck, applying slight pressure to it.

“I know,” you spoke mindlessly and Heeseung was amused at how easily you gave in.

“Yeah? No snarky comebacks or threats this time?” He teased.

“I’m leaving,” you said, embarrassed and trying to get away with your face burning with shame, but again, it wasn’t up to you as Heeseung pushed his body closer to yours, sandwiching you between him and the wall.

“You’re not going anywhere, darling,” he whispered, pushing your bikini panties to the side.

His fingers teased at your entrance and you unconsciously bucked your hips to meet him. He grabbed your hips to stay still before moving his fingers on your wet slit again, poking his finger on your entrance yet not letting it slide in fully to your dismay.

“Please,” you whined louder than before.

“Please what, princess?” He stopped moving his fingers all together just to hear your reply.

“Please fuck me,” you let out slowly, embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“That’s a good girl, but sadly you won't get it so easily,” he said and without any warning, he pushed a finger inside your pussy, which was wet and needy and it sucked him in.

His deep grunts only turned you on more, his hard clothed cock rubbing against your ass as he tore your bikini away, adding another finger to fill your pussy, reaching a deep spot which had you seeing stars.

Your glossy eyes followed his fingers as he sniffed it, “smells so sweet,” he said in a deep breath, giving you goosebumps, his tongue swirled around, tasting your juices and humming along.

“Oh baby you’re dripping,” he smirked, getting on his knees, putting one leg on his shoulder as he wasted no time in indulging himself in eating your sweet pussy, tongue lapping at your juices and you had to bite your fist to contain your noises.

You were so close.

His finger teased your clit to heighten the stimulation, and it worked wonders as it had you rolling your eyes to the back of your head, whimpering and crying.

You reached your limit when he pushed his tongue into your hole, a loud moan leaving your lips as he went on to eat you out.

“Hee—oh my god,” you cried out, falling apart on his tongue, and he lapped up the last drop of the juices you had spilled.

You looked at him, looking sinister, his lips shining and eyes glistening with amusement as he grabbed your chin and kissed you right on mouth, giving you a taste of yourself.

You rubbed his cock through his shorts, getting a scoff out of him, “not so fast, princess. You’ll have to show me how much you want it. I’ll go take care of it till then and clean your pool, which is oh so disgusting.” He smirked, getting out and into the showering stall, leaving you dazed and wet.

You had to have his cock.

You wouldn’t admit how much you had wanted him to fuck you directly to his face, so instead, you decided to be a menace and show him what he’s been missing.

He came back after two days, just as the schedule of his job. And it was a lucky day for you since half of the working staff had been granted a holiday today, leaving you with only the chefs and a security guard who wouldn’t ever come into the pool area.

Heeseung’s duality scared you, he came in as usual, wearing a blank tank and shorts this time, greeting you with a smile, “morning, princess,” he smirked, yet looked innocent.

“Hey, Hee,” you purposely called him a nickname, causing his smile to grow before he looked at your bikini top, which was not tied properly and showed more skin than usual.

You knew that would get his attention.

Standing up, you stretched your arms and started walking towards him, your movement caused the knot to open up fully, your tits coming into display for him.

It was so attractive how his jolly and innocent eyes turned dark within a second, but you only giggled, pushing his limits, “oops, i guess the knot wasn’t tied properly, can you help me, Hee?” You asked with a smile.

He scoffed, “that desperate for my cock?” He asked, biting his lower lip.

“I’m just asking for help,” you tried to reason and hide your guilty smile.

“Such a pathetic needy thing, you just want to be fucked, don’t you?” He took a step further and you stepped back, the butterflies in your lower abdomen not calming down for even a second, “maybe I’ll have to fuck some manners into you,” he smirked, and pushed you on the couch near the last pool, getting on top of you, ignoring your lips as he trailed his own on your neck, making sure to apply more pressure while kissing your sweet spot. Your bikini top was long discarded in the pool, your bikini bottoms joined it soon as you laid below him.

“Already wet? Seems like you’ve been waiting eagerly,” he commented, sliding his fingers into your pussy, scissoring it open for his cock to fit into your tight hole, “so ready for my dick,” he chuckled.

“Put it in,” you whimper, causing him to shut your mouth, his lips on your as he swiped his tongue on your lower lip, a gasp leaving your mouth as you kissed him back with need.

He pushed his pants down and stroked his cock a few times, all while keeping you busy with his kisses. Without giving you much warning, he poked the tip of his cock at the your entrance, your eyes widening as he deepened the kiss, pushing his hips forward, stuffing your clenching walls full of his thick length.

“Oh—fuck!” You gasped and moaned.

A smirk was plastered on his face with how needy he made you, your wetness allowing him to bottom out easily, giving you no time to adjust to his length before he started to thrust in even faster and deeper, sending you into a state of the bliss of arousal.

With your eyes rolling back, you couldn’t form sentences as he ruined you, whispering dirty nothings into your ear as he nibbled on it.

You were committing the filthiest sin yet it felt like heaven.

“So wet, so fucking tight, all for my cock, look how you’re clenching so desperately,” he chuckled.

His balls smacked against your ass, he was painfully hard and you were equally aroused, not knowing how much more you could hold it in.

“What if someone walks in and sees how dirty of a slut you are?” He continued to talk, which only made you wetter, “you would like that, won’t you? Me fucking you behind your parents.” He thrusted harder, hitting your g-spot with ease.

His hips moved with such fluidity, it made you wonder how many people he had fucked before to get this good at fucking, you were obsessed already.

It took all of your control to not scream and whimper out loud, the stretch was nothing like you had experienced before, you couldn’t help but chant his name like a mantra, over and over again, head clouded with him.

Heeseung twitched inside your pussy, pulling you up and turning you around with ease, pushing your head down and holding your ass up as he started fucking you from behind, a hand grabbing your tit while the other played with your clit.

You whimpered, gritting your teeth as the sudden tight feeling began to overwhelm your trembling frame, and he knew you wouldn’t be able to hold his back anymore, his movements getting sharper as he smacked your ass.

“Go ahead, kitten,” he whispered and that did it for you.

Shaking and whining, you finally reached your high, all senses heightened as you made a mess all over his cock.

He groaned deeply, emptying his cum into your pussy with a few thrusts, making sure you were full of him.

He stood back just to watch his cum dripping pussy and fucked out expression.

“Better start taking birth control from now,” he smirked, kissing your lips with a smack.

“Why? Will you fuck me again?” You asked, acting like a brat, “I’ll pay you.”

He scoffed, “keep your cash to yourself, queen, I’ll make sure you won’t be able to stand the next time,” he gritted out.

To his amusement, you tried to stand up, only to fall back down on the couch, “guess you can’t do it, and to think I went easy on you,” he spoke up, embarrassing you again.

Being degraded by him was your new fetish.

“What if my dad catches us?” You asked, looking away, trying to cover yourself with a towel as you changed the topic.

“Well, you’ll have to learn to be silent to not get caught, princess,” he spoke, coming closer and taking the towel away from you, gaze darkening at your figure again, aiming for a round two thinking no one was watching.

However, a certain boy named Sunghoon stood on his balcony from the mansion next to yours, the view being clear enough to show your pool area and your activities, his hand stroking his cock firmly as he watched Heeseung fuck you for the second time.

A smirk played on his face as he fucked his palm as he formulated a plan in his head.

He simply knew he’d be joining you both the next time.

THANK YOU FOR READING! I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT <3

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#fic : conflict of interest #enhypen hard hours #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #kpop smut #hee smut #jake smut #jay smut #sunghoon smut #enhypen imagines #heeseung x you

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