echos-muses - Tumblr blog

echos-muses · 7 days

Text

ugh yes

executive orders

words: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ only, ceo!rafe, assistant!reader, mean!rafe but equally mean!reader lol, p in v sex, unprotected sex, pretend marriage (like fake dating but fake marriage hehe)

“so…” the woman says, heels clicking down the pristine hallway as you quickly follow. “as you were told in the interview process, mr. cameron is a very particular man. as his personal assistant, your focus is more on his well-being than the business.”

“okay, i understand.” you nod. you find the whole thing odd. the interview process where you didn't actually meet the man you'd be the personal assistant to. his semi nondescript job. ceo. of some company named after him, but you don't know the specifics on what his role actually includes.

“just know…” she pauses outside of the large door leading into the room. “this isn't going to be an easy job. it's why you're making a lot of money.”

“okay.” you say again. the more you learn, the more concerned you are, but you're willing to try, even if just for one day.

“and you're paid for through the cfo. mr. cameron does not have firing rights no matter what he says.”

you're not sure what she means, but it becomes very apparent when the moment you step through the door, the man you presume to be mr. cameron let's out a growl.

“serena, i told you i don't need a fucking babysitter!” you turn around, but the door has already been shut behind you. you can hear serenas heels clicking quickly down the hallway. you had completely forgotten her name in the stress of your first day, but you commit it to memory before turning to the ceo.

“hello, sir.” you say quietly. “im y/n.”

“i don't need you.” he grunts out before focusing on his computer, typing rather angry and aggressively. you stand frozen, waiting.

“i said i don't need you. leave. you're fired.” mr. cameron says.

“i um… i don't think you can fire me. sorry, sir.”

his fingers pause as he looks up at you, seeming to finally really see you as his eyes move down then back up your body. you weren't sure what to wear so you're dressed in a black work dress with long sleeves and a pair of flats. under his watchful eye, you wish you would have worn something less form fitting.

“i hate being called sir.” he says.

“okay, mr. cameron then.” you take a few shuffling steps forward.

“rafe.” he shakes his head. “just rafe. mr. cameron is my fucking dad and he's dead.”

your instinct is to say sorry for his loss, but you can't find the words, which ultimately seems to be the right thing as rafe hums then turns back to his computer screen.

you watch him work for a few minutes, occasionally looking around the sparsely decorated office. you swear every time you look away, rafes eyes move up to look at you, but by the time your gaze travels back to him, he's back typing on his computer.

“goddamn it.” he groans out. “don't just stand there all day. if you're gonna be here and i can't fire you, you might as well sit down.”

“oh!” it takes you a minute to realize he's talking to you as his eyes don't stray away from the screen, but then you're quickly moving to sit on the chair positioned on the other side of his desk.

you sit again, watching rafe, watching the clock, watching the view out the window. “what would you like for lunch, si-rafe?”

“whatever.” he waves his hand. “it's not your job to get it. someone will bring lunch to us.”

“oh.” you nod, becoming increasingly more aware that you're not really sure what your job is.

just like rafe said, someone brings in lunch at exactly 12:30, one tray for you and one for rafe.

when he closes his computer, you think that now will finally be the time to talk, but he eats in silence. “so-”

“no small talk.” rafe says. “i hate that shit.”

“well, what is it you'd like me to do then? just sit here? at least give me a task.”

“fine.” rafe grunts out. “when you're finished eating you can read through this report.” he tosses a thick three ringed binder onto the desk in front of you.

“fine.” you argue back, quickly scarfing down your food before grabbing the binder.

you read through the report. you have no clue what the numbers mean, but you do find a couple punctuation mistakes and highlight them. rafe seems surprised you have any notes at all, his eyebrows raising when you grab the marker from his desk.

“there.” you place the binder down once you reach the last page. its tedious work, but at least it's something other than utter silence.

“great.” rafe takes the binder and tosses it into the trash can.

“hey!”

“those were numbers from four years ago.” you can see the smirk on rafes features, his amusement at getting you to do something completely pointless.

“you're a real dick, you know?” you say, blurting the words out before you can think of the consequences, it's not like you want to keep the job anyways.

rafe sits silently, but his eyes are on you, hands frozen as you continue on.

“you should hear the way people talk about you. everyone is afraid of you, which you may think makes you a macho boss, but it just makes you a shitty guy to work for. no wonder you have to pay everyone two times more than any other company around here, they need that for putting up with your rudeness.” you rant, suddenly sucking in air as your words come to an end.

“it's 5pm. done for the day. ill walk you out.” rafe stands, but you move quicker, pushing the doors open and leaving him to walk behind.

you stop when you see serena and the cfo quietly chatting. you open your mouth to say you quit when rafe speaks from behind you.

“i like this one. make sure she's here tomorrow by 9am.”

you turn and look to him, but he's already walking away.

you weren't planning on showing back up, but serena is a convincing woman.

“good morning, rafe.” you place a drink carrier down onto the corner of his desk, plucking out your mocha before schooching the rest towards him. “i didn't know what you like. i got a hot black coffee, a caramel frappe and the a cappuccino.”

rafe stares at the drinks before picking up the frappe. you smile, you should have predicted that despite his hard exterior, rafe liked a sweet drink.

serena gave you the company card, saying to use it for any and all expenses, even grocery's or home decor, she didn't care, as long as you entered the building by 9 am tomorrow.

“i know you hate small talk, but you'll have to get over it. what does this company even do?” you take a sip of your mocha, the taste chocolatey on your tongue.

“we are a development company. real estate all across the world. we also manage construction.”

“oh.” you frown. “that's more boring than i thought.”

rafe let's out a soft chuckle, pleasant sounding to your ears.

“everything just seems so secretive.” you shrug.

“i think they didn't want you to know a lot in case you turned down the job. you're the longest an assistant has lasted.”

“and what…” you lean in, ignoring that it's only your second day. “exactly am i supposed to do?”

“just… keep me in check.” rafe shrugs. “i have a tendency to get angry. bad news will get passed through you. you're here to be a sounding board, where i can vent and bounce ideas off of.”

“i make 100k a year for that?” you scoff.

“i think 50 of that is just for dealing with me.”

you laugh along with rafe. maybe you'll end up lasting an entire week.

-- two months later --

“are you free this weekend?” rafe asks.

“uh, yeah, why?” you question. you've learned rafe likes when you stand up to him, speak your mind and not let him push you around like he does everyone else. he's come to respect you for it, and it's made work much easier.

“im needed in new york city. id like for you to come with me. as my assistant.”

“sure, ill start looking for hotels.” you open up your laptop.

“spare no cost. i want somewhere nice.”

you roll your eyes dramatically. “of course you do.”

you already knew to look only at 5 star hotels, the most expensive of the lot. despite the short notice, you find two connecting suites that will work for you and rafe.

“and how are we getting there?” you ask. “want me to talk to jeffery about taking the private jet?”

“yup, i want to fly into laguardia, not jfk.”

“got it.” you nod, finding the correct number in your phone before stepping out to talk. you confirm all the details, jotting down times in the notes app on your phone.

you stop by after the phone call to update serena of your plans, learning she's a secretary of sort for the whole company, really the number two right behind rafe.

“hey girl.” you smile. “heading to nyc with mr. cameron for the weekend.”

“oh, good.” she sighs happily. “he's been needing to go out there.”

“yeah.” you shrug. “if you say so!” you keep yourself firmly out of the business side, just like she told you your first day here.

“make sure you do something fun while you're there too. while he's in meetings you could see times square, or check out central park.”

“i definitely will! i want to see the cherry blossoms if they're still in bloom.”

“sounds fun.” serena nods before her desk phone begins to read. “sorry, gotta get this.”

“see ya.” you wave as you walk back to rafes office.

“all good?” he questions.

“laguardia, just as you want.” you smile, sitting back at your upgraded chair.

“don't know what id do without ya.” rafe says.

“don't be nice to me.” you scrunch your name up. “it's weird.”

“how were the cherry blossoms?” rafe asks.

“most of them still in bloom, actually.” you say with a soft smile. you ended up taking a lot of pictures along with exploring the rest of the park.

“nice.” he hums. “did you bring an evening dress?”

“no. and you didn't tell me i was supposed to.” you say.

“well… i would appreciate it if you joined me at dinner tonight. it's with a very important client who um… may be under the impression that im traveling with my wife.”

“your- your wife?” your eyes widen. “you want me to lie about being your wife?”

“just for tonight. id really appreciate it.” rafe looks at you with a softness in his eyes. “please.”

“okay… but i don't have an evening gown… or anything fancy.”

“let me take you shopping then.” rafe pulls out his phone. “there's got to be a nice store near us.”

you place your hand on top of rafes phone. “ill find a place.”

you end up finding a formal store only a couple blocks away. you decide to walk, rafe keeping close to you, glaring at anyone who even glances at you for too long.

you make it to the store without any interruptions, and rafe quickly points out the kinds of dresses that will fit the restaurant before standing back to let you choose.

“you wanna watch me try them on, husband?” you ask rafe, following the associate with an armful of dresses back towards the private changing rooms.

“of course.” rafe follows behind you, eyes glancing down your figure. he can't wait to see you in a gorgeous fitted dress.

when you step out in the first dress, rafe swears he feels his heart skip a beat. “you're getting that one.”

“you sure?” you look in the mirror, twirling around to look at the dropped back. “i don't know if this color looks good on me.”

“it looks good on you.” rafe says. “but by all means, try on more. ill buy you multiple.”

rafe ends up buying you every single dress you try on except for one that's too loose and doesn't fit well. you insist you only need one, but you're not going to argue with your boss wanting to spend money on you.

you end up choosing the first one you tried on to go to the dinner with rafe. your hands shake slightly, not sure what to expect. rafe sees it, hesitating before wrapping your hand in his.

“it'll be fine. you can just… just be quiet for the most part. ill do all the talking.”

“okay.” you squeeze his hand back, not used to the physical contact with rafe, but finding it surprisingly comfortable.

you follow him into the restaurant, everyone else dressed to the nines, perfect hair and makeup on the women, the men with the shiniest shoes. “it's really beautiful in here.” you whisper.

“wait till you taste the food… wifey.” rafe says, making you both laugh.

“ah, mr. and mrs. cameron.” the man says in a slightly accented voice as you both shake his hand, as well as the associate next to him. “so glad to meet the both of you. we appreciate getting into business with a true family man.”

“of course.” you smile, putting on your best acting performance. “we are so excited to start our family soon.”

“we must see the wedding photos. my wife-” the man puts a proud hand on his chest. “is a wedding dress designer.”

“oh.” you frown. “i would love to show you, but we haven't gotten them back yet.” you smile at rafe. “we’re newlyweds.”

“ah, cheers to the beginning of a lovely marriage then.” he raises his glass to clink with the others at the table.

“please, kiss! you must after a toast.” the associate says.

you turn to rafe, glancing down to look at his lips. it would totally give you away to refuse, so you take a deep breath and lean into in, pressing your lips together in a quick kiss. it lasts only a moment, but you swear you feel a spark, a tug to continue kissing him.

rafe doesn't bring it up until later, as your riding the elevator back up to your hotel room. “you did great. im sorry about the kiss.”

“it wasn't bad.” you giggle softly, slightly drunk on the wine that was served.

“im glad you think that.” rafe smiles softly. “you'll make a wonderful wife to a very lucky man someday.”

“maybe we could…” you swallow harshly, the alcohol encouraging your words you know you shouldn't say. “maybe we could keep pretending. just for tonight. and then when we get back to the office things can be back to normal.”

“and what does continuing to pretend to be husband and wife entail?” rafe questions, taking a step closer to you.

“more kissing. more… more.”

rafes lips are against yours suddenly, ignoring the elevator doors sliding open in favor of his mouth pushing against yours, lips gliding harshly over each others. the kiss is the exact opposite of the restaurant, whereas it was quick and innocent, this kiss is full of fire and passion.

the elevators slide shut and begin to head back down to the lobby. “shit.” rafe groans against your lips, jamming the button towards your floor. “sorry baby.”

“just… keep kissing me until someone gets in.” rafe listens to your pleas, kissing you until the elevator comes to a halt. even then, he doesn't move far away, keeping himself stood possessively over you, your back against the elevator wall.

you smile awkwardly at the three men who enter before turning your face into rafes chest, focused on the hand that has slipped around your waist.

the elevator stops and the three men get off. the second it's moving again, rafe is back kissing you, stumbling out when your doors open as to not make the same mistake as last time.

“shit.” rafe groans, having to fumble in his pocket to get the key card for the door.

you let out a soft giggle, pressing kisses to his neck and jaw until the door swings open and you're able to step in the room.

“are you sure?” rafe asks, closing and locking the door behind you.

“im sure.” you nod. “this is just… pretend. let's do what husbands and wives do.”

rafe moves you towards the bed, backing you up until you sit down on the plush spread, decorated exactly like yours in the connecting room, but this bedding still smells like rafe from the night before.

he sinks to his knees, such a strong, dominant man on the floor for you as he takes off your heels, carefully slipping them off your soles before setting them to the side.

“thank you.” you say softly. rafe looks up at you before leaning forward, pushing the slit of your dress open to press kisses to your knees, and then thighs, moving up until the dress no longer allows him to.

“i need you to take this off.” he says roughly.

you nod, shifting yourself to stand as rafe also rises. you turn your back to him, his hands moving to your waist before moving up until he's cupping your chest over the shiny material.

“rafe-” you gasp out as he squeezes, his large palms enveloping your entire breast.

rafe holds his hands there for a moment longer before moving them to your back, unzipping your dress and watching it fall to the floor. you're in just a small pair of lingerie, having bought it for yourself yesterday in a boutique.

“shit.” rafe curses again. “you're… you're so beautiful.”

you turn around to kiss him again, his hands now against your bare skin as he explores, moving all along your sides and back.

your own hands get busy as well, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt until you can push it off his shoulders. you pull away to see his muscles, hints of which you've seen when he's rolled up his sleeves or wore a tighter than normal shirt, but now you can finally really see and appreciate them.

“lay down, please.” rafe says.

you move to lay on his bed, head resting against the pillows as rafe crawls over your body. his mouth finds yours again as his hand delves under your back to unhook your bra. he pulls it away from your body as his lips leave yours.

he's only off your skin for a moment before his mouth is wrapped around your nipple, tongue swirling around in circles as his hand holds your other breast.

“oh, shit.” it's your turn to curse as your eyes squeeze closed, hand coming to the back of rafes head, feeling his short hair as he sucks on your nipple before kissing all over the swell of your breast. he switches sides, wanting to taste all of you.

you lift your hips when his hand grabs onto your underwear, allowing him to pull it all the way down until you kick it off the bed. rafe pulls away to look between your legs, letting out a soft moan when you part your thighs and he can see how wet you already are.

“beautiful.” he says, eyes closing like it's too much to look at you as his hand skirts down your stomach before finding your wetness, finger circling around your entrance before gently pushing in.

“kiss me, please.” you take rafes face in your hands, guiding your mouths back together as his finger carefully thrusts in and out. he slowly increases the speed until you're whining against his lips for more.

rafe twists his hand so his thumb can rub over your clit as you let out a moan, hips pressing up, seeking more.

“i need you.” rafe pulls his hand away. “i need you so bad.”

you nod quickly, giving him one more quick kiss before he pulls away to take off his pants and underwear. you bite your lip once hes completely nude, his cock standing tall and hard away from his body. you want to taste him, want to see what it feels like to have his cock sit heavy on your tongue, but you need him inside of you more.

“i have a condom somewhere…” he looks around.

“you don't need to wear one. I'm on birth control.” you can feel your cheeks blush just at the suggestion. “it's… it's not what a husband and wife would do.”

“okay.” rafe doesn't need any more convincing, crawling back over your body. “do you want me like this?”

you flip over quickly so you're on top, rafes back now pressed into the mattress. you grab onto his cock, giving him a few quick strokes before you line him up with your cunt, sinking down with a synchronous moan.

you keep your eyes on rafes face as you begin to move, hips grinding up and then back, your hands sat firmly on his chest to help you move.

you're able to grind your clit down against his skin every time you sink fully down, just adding to the pleasure. he's stretching you out in the most pleasurable way, just enough to feel it without being painful.

“so fucking beautiful.” rafe says, reaching up to hold onto your tits as they bounce with your body.

you put all your energy into riding him, knowing this might be your only chance to, but hoping it's not, hoping you can feel him inside of you again.

“i- baby.” rafe grunts out, hands moving down to your hips. he helps you move as your legs quickly tire, not used to this position.

“you feel so good.” you whine out eyes sliding shut as rafes hips begin to push up, lifting you with every thrust, spearing his cock even further into you.

“im-im close.” you admit with a gasp, his cock hitting your sweet spot every time.

“cum for me baby, please.” rafe moves one of his hands to your lower stomach, thumb reaching down to rub over your clit.

you cry out, back arching as you instantly cum, not needing any more stimulation as your body shakes before flopping forward, falling against rafes chest.

he gives you a minute, as long as he can hold back before flipping you onto your back. it takes him only a few thrusts to cum inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

rafe flops down next to you, both breathing heavily, skin sheened in sweat.

you wait for a moment. to see if he's going to say anything. when he doesn't, you scooch closer to him, placing your hand on his cheek and bringing him in for a kiss, not yet done pretending.

-- four years later --

“you remember the first time we came here?” rafe asks, stepping into the restaurant with his hand wrapped around yours. it's redecorated some, but is still familiar.

“how could i forget.” you smile at him. “where i first pretended to be your wife.”

“well, at least you don't have to pretend anymore,” rafe says, swiping his thumb over the diamond ring on your finger “mrs. cameron.”

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echos-muses · 7 days

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i want rafe to buy me pretty clothes :(

୨୧ how sugardaddy!rafe found his favorite little muñeca

rafe wasn’t entirely sure as to what it was that piqued his father’s need to go on vacation every few months out of the year, but he wasn’t against it. since returning back to tannyhill, following his brief collegiate stint, rafe needed an outlet — a place where he could go and blow a few tens of thousands of dollars and not be reprimanded, a place where he could lose himself in copious amounts of coke without judgement, a place where he could be the man — the one who was needed, the one who had all the answers.

so, when ward came up with the brilliant idea to send his eldest of kin to the island of culebra, puerto rico — just to keep his volatile son out of trouble … rafe was quick and eager to oblige.

the villa was immaculate, completely renovated from the ground up, with the pristine view of the clear turquoise waters that crashed against the powder white sand. but what caught rafe’s bright baby blues was the little puerto rican girl who stood bent over, tiny white shorts sucked in the soft fat of your plush ass as you carefully picked at the bright fuschia hibiscus flower that grew alone in the patch of crisp green grass. shiny blown out hair cascaded down the small of your back as rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, watching closely as you straightened your posture, the shorts now almost entirely swallowed by your plump ass.

rafe couldn’t help himself, but continue to ogle at you, his bloodshot eyes carelessly drinking in the way your bronze skin shimmered under the sun, as well as the cute hot pink heart-shaped glitter tattoo that sparkled on your lower back. and fuck, it took everything in him to not shove his hand down his pants with the way the fat of your ass sat all heavy and perfectly curved against the flimsy fabric of your shorts.

smiling to himself, rafe obnoxiously clears his throat, causing you to flinch and whip your pretty little head at him, all wide eyed and open-mouthed, “uh, don’t think y’should be pickin’ at other people’s flowers, huh?” he questions, his voice dripping in a condescending cadence as you immediately drop the pretty flower from your small fist, allowing it to fall at your sparkly pink toes.

remaining silent, you awkwardly shift on your feet, blinking your wispy lashes together as you close your mouth, “i’m sorry, i just — hmph,” you sigh, your nose scrunched in frustration as you struggled to find the right words … in english, at least.

cocking his head to the side, rafe chuckles at your fussy state, his stringy bangs masking the way he incessantly stared at the way the swells of your breasts bounced against your one size too small lily pink triangle bikini top. judging by your thick accent, rafe could tell that communicating with you would be a bit of a struggle — lucky for you, he considered himself to be a proactive man of sorts.

taking a step closer to you, rafe feigns a sigh of disappointment, even going so far as to pinch the bridge of his nose “i don’t know, i may just have to tell someone that y’just comin’ here and makin’ a mess of things — i can’t have that, sweetheart,” he shrugs.

your little heart thumped rapidly against your chest as you bit down into your pouty bottom lip, swallowing thickly as you brought your terrified gaze to the ground.

deciding to twist the knife, rafe nudged the point of your chin with the side of his signet-tinged index finger with squinted eyes, “y’parents never taught y’how to talk to people, huh?” he questions, his pupil-blown eyes searching yours as you parted your swollen lips.

furiously shaking your head, you take a short breath, “i-i dunno how — the words are h-hard,” you speak, your voice small and mousey as your eyes meet rafe’s intimidatingly blue ones.

“well, y’gotta learn, yeah?” rafe shrugs.

with bright and naive eyes, you let out an excited gasp, “you can teach me?” you question, swollen lips pursed together as rafe licks over his pink chapped lips, taking another step closer to you as his rough hand grasps the side of your face.

you were a naive little one, a bit too welcoming … but he could fix teach you.

bringing his thumb to curve around your jaw, rafe shushes you, “y’shouldn’t be walkin’ around stranger’s houses dressed like that — your daddy ever teach you that?” rafe lightly pushes your head back, a shit-eating grin now playing on his handsome face as you obediently answer him with a forceful shake of your head.

your bambi eyes now welled with embarrassed tears, you gently attempted to pull your face from the young man’s tight hold, “yo no tengo …” you whimper softly.

shifting your face, rafe raises a corrective brow at you, “english, kid,” he scolds.

poking out your fat bottom lip in a wobbly pout, you lightly stomp your foot in frustration, “i don’t have a daddy,” you whine, a warm teardrop rolling down the apple of your cheek as rafe tutted at you with a knowing nod to himself.

“that’s the problem, huh? y’don’t have a daddy to keep y’little ass in line,” rafe mumbles, bringing his thumb to mush against your swollen and somewhat sticky lips as you stare at him with confused, yet needy little eyes.

letting go of your jaw, rafe runs a hand through his greasy hair, before swiping at the corner of his mouth with his finger, “listen kid, m’gonna take care of you, yeah? buy you whatever girly shit y’like — maybe even take y’home with me one of these days —”

“like a daddy?”

letting out a huff, rafe takes in the way you reach down to grab ahold of the wilted flower, boobs nearly spilling out of your bikini tops as you fist it tightly in your grip, “yes, but i’ll be your daddy —”

“papi!” you beam, a wide smile stretching your swollen lips as you bat your cutesy stacked lashes together, “that’s your name?” you ask politely, reaching your small hands to tug on the waistband of your shorts, unknowingly pulling them further up your ass.

“rafe is my name, pretty girl — but y’can call me papi, okay?” he coos, swiftly snagging the flimsy flower from your hand, causing you to pout as you roll your eyes, leaving rafe to snap his fingers at you, “hey — don’t start that shit, now come here and let me fix y’up,” he commands, internally satisfied with the way you quickly removed the frown from your face and walked over to him, the tips of your toes meeting the tips of his sandals.

curling a ginger underneath the waistband of your shorts, rafe softly pulls on the stretchy fabric, taking a mental note of the frilly thing you wore underneath. placing the flower in your shorts, rafe carefully secures the band of your shorts to hold the flower upright, you dainty belly button ring also catching his watchful eyes.

craning your neck to get a look of your cute new accessory, you scoff with excitement, “aye, es muy bonita, papi!” you squeal, rushing to swing your arms around rafe’s tense and warm neck.

lightly patting the top of the curve of your asscheek, rafe gently pulls you away from him, “listen, kid — y’can’t just trust every person you meet, yeah? not everyone is going to be nice like your papi, hm?” he clasps his hands around your bare shoulders, biting back a smirk as you nod feverishly.

“tell me that you understand,” rafe pushes, silently encouraging you with a small squeeze of your shoulders.

“i und-understand,” you breathe out.

bringing a hand to barely pat your cheek, rafe reaches his free hand down to tug the hem of your shorts down to cover your ass, “good girl — now why don’t y’come with daddy and i’ll buy y’some pretty clothes,” rafe hums, massaging your cheek with his thumb.

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echos-muses · 8 days

Text

they both got cake

Y'all are not ready for this fight 🖤💚

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echos-muses · 9 days

Note

it’s purely inspired by the last bit in the blurb too 🤣 he’s the dad that holds his kids upside down by their feet and shit 🤣🤣🤣

Wait pls do a blurb on her after she leaves her husband and she moves in with rafe and they have the baby

just a small little soft coach!rafe x soccermom!reader

📠 📰 ────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────

“rafe.” you giggle, looking up at him as he kisses you every-time he comes down. strained arms caging your head and legs wide in a push up stance.

“hoo—“ he breathes out, grunting each time he does one full pushup, his whistle dangling in front of your face. “just one more, baby. stay still for me.”

“come on, up.” your hand reaches up to tug on the sleeve of his dumbass polo that he always wears. his closet is only full of shorts and polos. he’s got the whole dad thing down for sure.

the both of you were supposed to complete the nursery today now that you’ve broken off your marriage and moved in with rafe. however he got a little preoccupied when he saw you taking a break on the new plush carpet. you just had to lay down with all the back pain that came with your pregnancy while rafe just had to be on you when he saw you laying down after he came back from practice.

“gonna get mad at me just because i wanted to stay strong for you, huh?” he grins, helping you back to your feet, giving you another peck and not forgetting to give your baby bump one too. his baby girl is in there, she’s gotta have some love too.

“you didn’t do anything without me, right? y’know i don’t like you doing shit alone.” his eyes scan around the room for any significant changes. rafe has gotten so overprotective of you since your pregnancy. he wouldn’t let you lift a single finger which was nice at first but then it got boring with nothing to do. there was a constant itch to work on a project overtaking you now.

“no, i didn’t. but i would love to!” you whine, just hoping for him to allow you just this once. the disappointment sets in when you see the way rafe is looking at you. no shot, he’s gonna let you.

“no fuckin’ way in hell am I letting you near anything heavy.” rafe was adamant on this, shaking his head at you.

you ended up sitting on the rocking chair rafe set up the other day as he worked on the baby’s crib. he wouldn’t let you stand up for anything— you needed water? he’d get it for you. snacks? he’s already running to the pantry. no, no, rafe is totally not busy on the crib.

“rafe.” you call out to him, bored out of your mind. watching rafe screw the pieces together was just not entertaining enough for you. “yeah, baby?” he responds and examines you everywhere to make sure you’re not uncomfortable before focusing onto the crib again.

“why’d you never have kids till now?” you ask him, chin resting on your palm while you keep your eyes on his hands working. rafe was older than you, he’s had a marriage before but told you it didn’t last. now seeing how excited he was for your baby, you couldn’t help but be curious.

“couldn’t trust myself.” rafe doesn’t even hesitate, he’s told you everything about his life even when you were just a deal— his family, his dad, his addiction, his anxiety. all things that you certainly hadn’t expected to be the backstory of your son’s coach, of rafe. “then why now?” you raise an eyebrow at him, and he chuckles like it was a silly question.

“cause i trust you.” he looks up at you and shrugs, “more than myself.”

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echos-muses · 9 days

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echos-muses · 9 days

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dad!rafe is literally just a compilation of all of those pics on twitter of dads holding their kids weird 🤣

Wait pls do a blurb on her after she leaves her husband and she moves in with rafe and they have the baby

just a small little soft coach!rafe x soccermom!reader

📠 📰 ────────*𑁍༘⋆ ────────

“rafe.” you giggle, looking up at him as he kisses you every-time he comes down. strained arms caging your head and legs wide in a push up stance.

“hoo—“ he breathes out, grunting each time he does one full pushup, his whistle dangling in front of your face. “just one more, baby. stay still for me.”

“come on, up.” your hand reaches up to tug on the sleeve of his dumbass polo that he always wears. his closet is only full of shorts and polos. he’s got the whole dad thing down for sure.

“no fuckin’ way in hell am I letting you near anything heavy.” rafe was adamant on this, shaking his head at you.

“cause i trust you.” he looks up at you and shrugs, “more than myself.”

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echos-muses · 10 days

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it’s okay, there’s always the next day for some crazy, downright freaky sex

need our simon to come home from deployment IMMEDIATELY 🫶🏼 | p1 p2 p3 p4

your older bf!simon comes home from deployment at dinner time on a tuesday.

herb alpert on the kitchen radio, knife tearing through a bunch of parsley, garlic and onion simmering on the stove behind you.

simon can hear it- smell it through the mail flap.

smells like home.

your ears prick at the sound of the door swinging open, the hinges alerting you to a secondary presence. back tensing for just a moment before you hear steps you could pick out in a lineup.

he sees your fluffy slippers first, then your little shorts, then his t-shirt. finally, he’s met with wide eyes and the kitchen light hits the curve of your face so nicely.

simon could cry.

you already were.

“oh my god, si”

he doesn’t really want to touch you with his outside clothes, tactical gear smelling like the back of a cargo plane and you’re so soft and lovely he’s afraid he might mess it all up.

but there’s nothing stopping the way you leap at him across the kitchen and swing your entire self around him and he’s forgetting what he’s wearing and he’s wrapping his arms around you like he knows you won’t break.

his tongue is immediately in your mouth and he’s taking one gasping breath and filling his nose with the scent that’s overwhelming him.

simon realises right then that the house smells like dinner but you smell like home. you are home. he’s home.

when he finally lets you let him go you’re telling him to leave all his gear by the washer and you’ll sort it all out tomorrow but right now he needs to sit down so you can feed him.

he’s back in the kitchen with a sweatshirt and shorts on and he’s never found his own clothes so comfortable. maybe it’s because he can smell you on the fabric.

you’d only been cooking enough for one but at this point, you’re so happy to have him home that you’re plating up the whole thing for him as he sits at the dining table.

his chair scrapes back along the floor and he’s patting his thigh, simon eats his tea with you curled up in his lap telling him everything he’d missed.

apparently, old-mate next door broke up with his missus and it was quite the scene.

apparently, they finally finished the roadworks on the junction at the end of your street and there was no longer a blur of orange cones on the drive to work.

apparently, there was going to be a barbecue at the house down the street and the two of you were invited. you might make a salad to take with.

you could’ve been reading him the phonebook and simon would be a happy man. his hand was holding under your thigh and your face was in the crook of his neck.

he was home.

dishes done (together) and tea steaming on the coffee table in front of him, simon isn’t sure this couch has ever been this plush. he could melt into it, as long as it was just like this.

bare feet up on the ottoman and one arm wrapped around your side as your head lay against his chest. you could hear his heartbeat and he could hear the football you’d recorded for him whilst he was away.

deployment was fucking rough, seen and done things he didn’t even want to think about. but this is what he comes home to.

you.

you who curls up in his lap and idly twirls the drawstring of his shorts round your finger.

you who offered up all of your food to him to fill the pit that’d been growing in his stomach over the weeks.

you who couldn’t give less of a fuck about the football on tv but watches in quiet contentment for the sake of being closer to him.

you who doesn’t ask once about what happened while he was away but will always listen without judgement if he needs to get something off his chest.

ideally, simon would like to give you the world in return. then again, he doesn’t think even that’d be enough.

instead, he takes you up to your shared bed and, miraculously, he doesn’t fall asleep as soon as his back touches the mattress.

he could, very easily, but instead he pulls you down on top of him and gets his lips back on yours. the kiss when he came through the door had been passionate but it’d been fleeting.

simon had kept it like that, knowing if he spent a second longer with your tongue on his then he’d have you over the kitchen bench and that wasn’t what he wanted.

really, he wanted this. the full weight of you on top of him and your hips rolling messily against his as his hands went up underneath your his shirt.

he wanted to run his fingertips along your bare back and feel skin so soft he almost couldn’t remember the things his hands had done just last week.

he wanted to map out every spot, every freckle, every ridge across your shoulders and commit it to memory so the next time he had to up and leave he could trace you like a constellation in the night sky.

truthfully, simon didn’t want to leave next time. he wanted to get the call from price and tell him that he was sorry but he couldn’t do it any longer. he now had something- someone to live for and he just couldn’t gamble odds like he used to.

he wasn’t entirely sure he’d still hold the sentiment on the other side of blowing a load so simon put those thoughts in the back of his head and decided he’d work them out on tomorrow morning’s run.

right now, simon felt the soft skin of the inside of your cheeks and your spit tastes like the nectar those gods harped on about and he’s pulling hard on your hips as he rolled something hard between them.

you were moaning, whimpering, whinging into his mouth while you ground yourself into the hard line of his cock. raging erection didn’t even cover it and his head was tipping back as a-

yawn, deep and all consuming broke from his throat.

simon was fucking knackered.

exactly what he didn’t want to happen was happening in front of him, you were sitting up and cooing at him so fucking sweetly.

“si, you’re exhausted- we’ll go to sleep”

strong grip around your waist was anchoring you to the spot so you couldn’t climb out of his lap like you were currently trying.

“sweet’art”

you could hear it in his voice, he couldn’t even lift his head off the pillow. you conceded, however, letting him rub soft little circles into your hips.

“jus’ gimme’ one and then we’ll sleep”

laying back down against his chest, you felt the air woosh out of him as you relaxed your body on his. face fitting into the crook of his neck like you were made for him (you were) with a hand running along his collarbone.

“we’ve got tomorrow”

you knew it was futile, he was already slipping your shorts to the side. head tilting just a little to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“and i need you tonight”

settled.

you felt one large hand lift you up as his other freed his cock out his shorts. just enough, just enough to get the job done because any extra effort was going to render him unconscious.

bringing a hand to his mouth, he spit in his palm quickly before rubbing it along the head of his cock. deep groan rumbled beneath you as you felt him pressing against your entrance.

“lift y’top up, sweet’art- wanna’ feel y’on me”

you did him one better, leaning up enough to slip the shirt over your head and onto the floor. forcing him to hold his arms up for just a second, you pulled his sweatshirt off and discarded it in the pile.

bare chest to chest, you could feel simon shudder beneath you. snaking one arm under his armpit and the other around his ribs, you snuggled in tight as you felt him slip right in.

that’s all he wanted.

weeks of photos, videos, imagination to go off of. this was all he ever wanted. you so close to him that it was entirely possible to imagine the two of you as one. that there was no version of reality without you together in it.

lazily rolling his hips up into you as you met him halfway, rolling yours back down to share half of the load. simon’s arms wrapped around your back, keeping you close and keeping you moving against him.

“sorry love, s’not gonna’ be a long one”

you could only respond with a whimper, gently nodding your head into his neck as your lips press soft little kisses into the skin. you didn’t need a long time, you just needed him.

unable to help yourself from noticing the couple new scratches he’d come home with, your fingers idly traced along them as he sucked in a breath at the feeling.

what you wouldn’t give to keep him home and keep him safe.

a thought for another day as you felt yourself constricting around his cock, grinding yourself into his lap as firm muscle rubbed against your front.

tiny little gasps flitted from your mouth and into his ear, you could feel his body tensing up beneath you. it wasn’t just with sheer tiredness, you knew this man like the back of your hand.

left hand coming out from under where you’d buried it behind his back, you ran the tips of your fingernails down simon’s chest. you stopped at his nipple, gently scraping along the peaked flesh until you heard him.

“need y’to cum right now f’me please”

slipping your other hand between the two of you, you let your fingers wander against yourself until you could feel the tide breaking in the pit of your stomach.

body clenching involuntarily, your mouth dropping open against his skin. no doubt drool pooling against his collarbone as you came with a pathetic whimper. hips bucking a little crazy in his lap as his hand ran the length of your back.

“god that’s it, sweet’art”

simon went rigid, gripping you tight like you might go somewhere as the dams broke and he filled you up. hot and sticky and dripping out of you and onto the waistband of his shorts.

he fell so still the only way you’d know he was still alive was the rise and fall of his chest beneath you. his arms were already starting to fall limp around you.

coming back from the bathroom, slipping off the rest of your clothes and adding them to the pile. simon wasn’t asleep, there were no snores, but he had been rendered totally immobile.

pulling the remainder of his clothes off for him and settling in beside, you pulled the sheets up over the both of you as his arm began drawing you in.

draped across him, you could feel his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“m’gonna’ rock y’world in the morning”

you snorted a little laugh, nuzzling in closer as his breathing starts to even out. no use in replying, snorings about the only answer you’re going to get.

not that you’d mind.

he was home.

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echos-muses · 10 days

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Stormborn Legacy

Pairing • King Aemond x Baratheon!reader

Tags • wedding night, mention of pregnancy, smut, oral sex (female receiving), hint of body worship and breeding kink

Wordcount • 3,900

Aemond Masterlist

You are one of the Four Storms, Lord Borros Baratheon’s daughters. As the Dance of the Dragons comes to a close and your husband Aemond, whom you only knew for a night, is proclaimed King, you finally come out of the shadows and bring him a surprise he never suspected.

The Four Storms, they called you and your sisters, for your temperaments and unyielding characters—it was true your father Lord Borros had raised you to be strong-minded, determined and ambitious. However you had never expected those qualities would come to serve you in the matter of a royal marriage.

You had always expected to marry well as you were of noble station and your father was fearless in negotiations, but on the stormiest night of the season when Prince Aemond arrived unannounced to your lord father’s halls, you were still left utterly taken aback.

The prince was everything one could imagine from a Targaryen man—intense and with a mesmerizing presence, along with long and lithe form that complimented his sharp features.

His leathers only emphasized the length of his legs and the trim of his waist, and the glowing sapphire that adorned his face didn’t escape your notice as he revealed it to his nephew, and his musical tone turned deadly as he threatened the young man.

Never before had you stepped above the order of birth, nor made any demands of your father, but as the two men discussed which daughter would marry the dragon prince, you could hardly hold on to your composure. Once the agreement was sealed, allowing the prince to make his choice at a later date, or perhaps at the King’s own pleasure, the young man had left, chasing after his nephew in the dead of night.

Despite your confidence in yourself, you knew that you were neither as clever as Maris nor as beautiful as Floris, and that you lacked the assurance and poise of your eldest, Cassandra. Which was why you had been ever so surprised, when a mere few hours after Prince Aemond had departed, he had come back to claim you as his wife.

“There has been some unforeseen development, Lord Borros,” he had announced. “We must secure our alliance now. I shall take your third daughter, if my Lord agrees to it.”

A secret smile had graced your father’s face for an instant, as you had always held a special place in his heart. It was not for your beauty or your cleverness, nor was it because of your position in the line of birth, but for your resemblance with your mother. She was a woman of resilience and dignity, and you hoped those qualities you had learned from her would serve you in your marriage.

“I hope this hurry isn’t distressing to you, my lady,” Prince Aemond asked as you removed your jewelry, readying yourself for the consummation.

There hasn’t been time to prepare any grand room, and instead you had chosen to take the prince back to your own quarters. They had been cleaned and readied during the ceremony, but surrounded by bookshelves of your favorite volumes and memories of your youth would be where your husband would make you his, and the thought was strangely elating.

“Not at all, my Prince,” you replied as you turned with an encouraging smile, eager to hide your own nerves.

Your hands shook slightly as you removed the last of your bracelets and rings, and you forced yourself to take a deep, steadying breath as he came up behind you, his nimble fingers tugging at the laces of your dress. There was a nervous energy to him, thunder brewing under his skin, and you wondered what unforeseen event had precipitated your union—but most of all, you wondered to what extent his earlier display of character could be an indication of the kind of lover he was.

“Aemond, please,” he requested in a strangely quiet tone as your dress came open and fell forward, revealing your light-colored corset and shift. “War is upon us and I would rather take my wife to bed with her calling me by my name.”

“Of course, Aemond,” you whispered back, turning to face him once more, and he swallowed his name from your mouth, taking you by surprise. He tasted of rain and the bitter wine served as a toast after the ceremony, and you were so swept away by his kiss that you allowed your dress to fall to the floor, and his hands to continue their endeavor on the laces of your corset.

Feeling slightly exposed and vulnerable, you pulled from his kiss only to make a request of your own, looking up at his covered eye. “Would you remove it?” you inquired, curious to see it again.

“I don’t want to frighten you,” he replied as his nose followed the curve of your ear before his mouth found the sensitive spot under it and sucked a gentle kiss there.

“I have seen it already, and I wasn’t frightened,” you gasped, one of your hands coming up to the back of his head and he didn’t protest, silently allowing you to pull it off.

In the darkness of your rooms, the sapphire looked as the midnight sky, but there was no time for you to admire it. As his leathers joined your dress and all that remained between your skin and his was your shift and his undershirt, he pressed you to the bed and a curtain of white obscured your vision.

There was an urgency to him as he took you, and a passion you hadn’t dared hope for in your years of longing for marriage. From the ways his kisses took you apart and left you breathless, and the way his slim waist fit in the cradle of your hips, you were truly enchanted; the burning stretch of your lost innocence was a mere afterthought.

The thunder you had felt in him came in the form of renewed passion, as he took you twice before he seemed satisfied. He was not shy with his pleasure, and his grunts and groans made shivers of delight erupt all over your skin, which he followed with his lips. His hands were not idle and roamed the curves of your body as you shared in his pleasure, the warmth of your joining lighting an unfamiliar fire in the pit of your stomach.

In the end your tentative pleasure knew only a few sparks, but you believed that as the nights would come, so would completion.

Only those nights never came and as war tore the realm apart you became inhabited with the fear that you would never see your husband again, and that the gift he has left you would be ripped from your arms.

Two Years Later

The political headaches of the day were pounding at the back of Aemond’s head, and as distracted as he was by the imminent arrival he was expecting, he found it tiring to follow Tyland Lannister’s tirade on the cost of war. After over two years of war, bloodshed and tragedies, he would hopefully find comfort again in the arms of his wife—a few distant letters had kept some illusion of contact between the two of you, but he longed for the sound of your voice and the opportunity to finally know you.

On the night he had come to Storm's End, seeking an alliance with Lord Borros, he had not expected he would marry that same night, and that your embrace would be so sweet.

The memory of your soft skin and even softer sighs kept him warm all throughout the war for succession, and as each of the heirs succumbed to the folly of men and the bloodthirst of vengeance and he found himself king, he held on the reassurance that he would at least have a queen by his side.

Aemond had only ever yearned for the throne, but had never considered he would find himself the sole male heir to his house—Jaehaerys and Maegor had been ripped from this world by utter cruelty, and Aegon by utter folly as he had faced their sister alone and had perished after months of agony from the flames.

“Your Grace, I am sorry to interrupt but your wife has arrived,” the Maester’s frail voice cut through Tyland’s never ending soliloquy, bringing the perfect excuse to bring this council meeting to an end.

Aemond hadn’t seen you in over two years, and daunted as much as he looked forward to seeing you again—some details escaped his memory and he was elated to finally fill the gaps. As the men left the room one by one, bowing to a figure Aemond couldn’t see from where he stood at the end of the council table, he adjusted the Conqueror’s Crown that sat atop his head.

As the last councilor left the chambers, a feminine figure made its way through the doors, dressed in the Baratheon colors. Aemond greeted you by your name and you reciprocated, joy and apprehension casting a play of light and shadow across your features. You looked even more striking as he remembered, and as he looked for familiarity on your face, he noticed the expectant and almost frightened way you were gazing up at him.

“Is there something wrong, my lady?” he asked as he approached, noticing the nervous way you had crossed your hands in front of you.

“I am afraid I haven’t been honest in the few letters we shared. I have kept a secret from you,” you started in a shaky breath, unsure how to break such enormous news to the newly crowned king. “You must understand, this war was terrible to witness and I lived in fear that you would be killed, and that… That someone would come for him.”

Aemond’s heart dropped from his chest to his stomach as he registered your words, and his mind turned into a whirlwind as hope and dread battled for victory. “I don’t follow,” he replied, cautious and composed nonetheless.

As he said those words tears came to your eyes, and the maid that had accompanied you appeared, carrying a small child wrapped in a black cloak with a yellow stag embroidered on it. Silence seemed to stretch as you struggled to find your words and contain your emotion—across from you, Aemond looked grave and terribly serious.

“Our sole night together bore fruit, Aemond,” you said as you reached for the small hooded form. As you cradled the toddler and propped him up on your hip, you pulled the cloak off his head and revealed the pure white of his hair. “You have a son.”

Aemond felt the ground crumble under his feet and the air leave his chest. You were visibly shaking and he suspected his own hands would soon be taken by tremors—looking upon the child you had just called his son, he felt as though he was looking at the heavens, at the Conqueror born anew.

“Gods be good,” came his breathless answer.

“I have taken the liberty of naming him Aegon, after your ancestor and your brother,” you said as you approached, and your son shifted in your arms, caught between apprehension and curiosity. “I hope it pleases you.”

From the shade of his violet eye and the slope of his nose, there was no doubt Aemond was in the presence of his own flesh and blood. His body knew its kin and it called to the child; a prickling burned the back of his eyes, even the one that was gone, and he longed to press the babe to his breast and to breathe in his hair.

“It pleases me beyond words,” he could only whisper. “You are a marvel and this child a miracle, indeed.”

Your cheeks flushed under the praise, your chest releasing its trapped breaths in the form of a sob that was more laughter than sorrow. The weight of the last two years vanished from your shoulders and you felt light and airy, floating above the concerns of the world.

“Is he healthy?” Aemond asked, lifting a hand to stroke little Aegon’s hair. It was thin and silky as he carded his fingers between the strands, hungrily mapping the round features of his child with his good eye, mourning the fact that he didn’t have two so that he could look more fully upon his son.

“Perfectly so. He was raised in secret and is perhaps a bit sheltered, but he is only five and ten months of age. He will learn,” you replied tearily, amazed at the look of wonder on Aemond’s face. Your night together had been short and you had only ever seen utter confidence and passion from him, along with a fleeting moment of rage.

Now you were the privy witness to the precious moment a man became a father, and with the hardship of labor far away from you, you were blessed to be in full possession of your senses to appreciate it. Aemond’s sharp features seemed to soften slightly, and you didn’t need words from him to know that what you saw was love.

The bow of his lips stretched into a smile of absolute pride, and you knew the future would be blissful; you stepped fully into your husband’s space and pressed the child into his arms. Aemond’s eye fluttered and emotion clogged your throat—he cradled your son as though he was holding a being made of crystal that would shatter with the slightest pressure.

Little Aegon made a cooing sound, his pudgy hand coming up to tug at the long curtain of his father’s hair, his angelic face looking up at Aemond with the natural eagerness of childhood. “He knows the touch of his father,” you said, a single tear pearling at the corner of your eye.

All your child had known were a few rooms of your father’s fortress, away from prying eyes and the terrifying possibility of defeat. Your stomach hadn’t swelled yet and your blood had barely been gone for two moons when the news of the death of Prince Jaehaerys had reached Storm’s End—a single word from your father had convinced you that silence and secrecy was the only way to keep your child safe.

As the Gods blessed you with a son, and the loss of Prince Maegor further burdened the realm, a cold truth came over you. As long as dragons fought over the skies and the throne wasn’t secured by your husband’s faction, vengeance could come for your son every day and night, and you would never know a moment’s peace.

That night, Aemond found peace from his worries in the comfort of a nursery and the soothing rhythm of rocking a child to sleep. He sent the nurse away at your request and watched as you nursed him at your own breast, handing the boy to him when he was drowsy from warm milk and the comforting scent of his mother.

Little Aegon was lowered into his crib by the arms of his father for the first time in his life, and as you watched from the doorway, closing the laces of your dress again, you felt reassured that perhaps the comfort of both his parents would be enough, and he would not wake in the night.

Your worries must have shown on your face and the door to the nursery closed, leaving a maid alone with your son while you crossed the narrow corridor and entered your quarters—you had requested not to be parted from your child, but your husband the king had insisted for a moment of privacy, at least for the first night.

“He is in the next room, and under close watch,” Aemond soothed as you took in your new quarters. Your cases had been brought and most of your dresses had been whisked away to your dressing room, your jewelry laid on your vanity and your books tucked neatly into the bookcases.

“He has never been apart from me, not for a single night,” you said, turning to your husband with a shy smile. You hesitated, but in the end refrained to add that you hadn’t been alone either, and that the prospective loneliness frightened you slightly.

“You may rest easy, he is safe,” he said, approaching you slowly, and part of you wanted to cling to him, to the only familiar figure in this bleak place. “I am not sure you comprehend the miracle you have performed today, my lady wife,” he continued.

“I only did my duty,” you replied meekly as he lifted a hand and ran the back of his knuckles across your cheek—there was a spark to him that you hadn’t seen that first night, a confidence and a kindness both, merged in his intense but steadying presence.

It was true it had been nothing short of miraculous to bear a child after only one night of passion, and to bear a son no less, but you had never dwelled on it.

“You have saved the realm. You have my most heartfelt gratitude, and whatever you wish from me, you shall get,” Aemond said with the low, crooning tone you remembered him by. “Whether it is a castle to find refuge, or a vessel to sail the seas, or trunks of coins to spend as you wish, you shall have it.”

You licked your lips and Aemond followed the movement closely—your lovely features were flushed under his attention, and the gratitude he’d felt since you had declared he had a son was pressing behind his breastbone, urging him to give back to you in one way, or another. It pressed so hard behind his ribs that it expanded past his chest and down to his stomach, fanning gentle flames.

“I want none of those things,” you replied after a little while, hesitant, as you did not wish to sound ungrateful. “Raising Aegon has been the light of my life, and I have never known such joy. I only wish to know it again, without the strain of worry and the shadow of war, this time.”

The flames in Aemond’s stomach erupted into a great blazing fire at your admission, and his hand curled along your jaw, lifting your gaze to him. “Of all the things on this earth, are you asking me for more children?” he asked, pressing.

“If it would please your grace, yes,” you replied, slightly teary.

Aemond said no word, only dipped his head and crossed the distance between the two of you. Caught between his gentle grip and firm press of his mouth on yours, you finally breathed easier for the first time since you had set foot in King’s Landing. The safety of your child was acquired, and now you knew you had the affection of your king.

“Our night together was short but sweet,” you explained further as he pulled away to let you breathe. His one eye was blown, dark and rich with adoration. “I cherished its memory, and it warmed my heart in the rare moments I was alone.”

His left hand joined the other in framing your face, and you shivered as both trailed down along your neck, grazing the top of your chest where you hadn’t relaced your dress so tight—he had looked away when you had nursed your son, but you suspected your breasts still held some attractiveness.

“Would you have me tonight, or would that be inconsiderate of me? I wouldn’t wish to impose on you,” he said carefully, but you could see the tension in the line of his body.

You breathed a quiet laugh against his lips, chasing his kiss again. “It would be inconsiderate of you to leave me alone on our first night reunited.”

Aemond smiled, a private, secret smile that was soon hidden in the kiss you shared. This time it was passionate rather than chaste, and you couldn’t help but sigh in his mouth as he pressed in, hardent and eager. His tongue curled against yours, his lips tracing the bow of yours.

“I wish to see you. All of you,” he murmured as he pulled away, taking a step back.

“My body is not as it was,” you replied hesitantly, walking slowly to the chamber’s sleeping area as you pulled on the laces of your dress again. “The birth of your son left its marks and I’m afraid childbearing is not kind on the bodies of women.”

As you turned to look at your husband over your shoulder, you shivered as you saw him mirror you, pulling at the buckles of his doublet. “War has not left me without its marks, either,” he explained quietly.

You smiled at him, your cheeks flushing as he removed his doublet and draped it over a nearby chair. You turned your attention back to your dress, and as it pooled around your feet and you stepped out of your shoes, he approached you again.

“Neither of us is as we were on the night we married,” he continued as he approached you, his bare feet on the cold stones a strangely intimate sight. “Allow me,” he whispered as you reached for your stockings.

Your chest swelled in the confine of your corset as he kneeled in front of you, reaching for one leg then the other, pulling your wool stockings off—he kissed the inside of your knee on the second leg, pushing your shift up until his mouth reached the sensitive inside of your thigh.

Looking up to you adoringly, he still looked as regal as ever, his pointed nose tracing the soft curve of your thigh as you unlaced your corset and freed your labored breathing. “Allow me,” he murmured again, and his breath on your skin made you shiver.

“Aemond,” you gasped as he sucked a line of gentle kisses, pushing your shift up until he reached the crease of your hip that led to your most intimate place. You moaned out loud as he pressed a firm but chaste kiss there, making your stomach erupt in heat.

You held onto the bedpost as he lifted one of your knees over his shoulder, giving you a firmer lick before guiding you to lay back on the bed. You lifted your shift over your head, and Aemond was eager to throw it aside. You threw your head back as he kissed his way up again, tracing the rivers of white and silver that ran across your skin, testimonies of the son you had borne him.

“You are magnificent,” he praised as he pressed his face into the soft roll of your stomach, where the skin had thinned, stretched as it had been, and in that instant you felt more beautiful than ever—a goddess to be worshiped.

You sang his praises as he devoted himself to your pleasure, waiting until you had reached your peak and cried from it before he thought of himself, pushing into you with purpose. Aemond made love to you with passion and a certain determination, his gaze never leaving yours as he lost himself to pleasure and took you down with him in that gentle storm.

“How I long to see you swollen with my child,” he moaned into your neck as his peak took him; with luck, the willingness of the Gods, you would swell again come autumn, and spring would bring the promise of a babe.

Dividers by @saradika

Taglist 1:‬ @snowystark @qyburnsghost @darkenchantress @itscatlien-blog @castellomargot @cardi-bre91 @avengingangelfanfic @malfoytargaryen @mari0302 @iamfandomnerd @diosademuerte @hb8301 @pasta-rask @chattylurker @svtansdaddyx @its-sam-allgood @amarillys92 @namgification @dahlias-and-marigolds

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echos-muses · 12 days

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the guy: get the fuck out you dirty animals

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐲

pairing: dealer!rafe x fem!pogue!reader

summary: ❝i got you where i want you, you’re deader than ever, and falling for forever.❞ — a deal gone wrong leads to you and rafe being stuck in the same room together.

warnings: enemies to lovers, forced proximity (kinda), playful banter, bickering, mild slut shaming, mentions of drugs, dealing of drugs, mentions of violence, dirty talk, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, baby trapping threats, finger sucking, slight degradation, slapping, cream pie

word count: 2.7k

a/n: series masterlist

“i need the both of you to just calm down, alright?” barry stepped between you and rafe, both of you glaring at each other with a dangerous glint in your eyes. “if he’s in, then i’m out. i’m not gonna work with a fucking kook.” you spat, shoving barry’s hand away. “yeah? well i don’t wanna work with you either, pogue.” rafe shot back. “y’all don’t have a choice a’ight? i can’t go anywhere with this fuckin’ monitor on my ankle, so i need you two to do this deal for me. i’ll double the pay for the inconvenience.” barry cursed under his breath, plopping down on the couch.

rafe gave you a once over, his eyes lingering on your exposed cleavage. “where’d you even find this girl, barry? she looks like a walking felony.” you didn’t miss the way rafe licked his lips before taking a seat. you scoffed, fixing your top. “please, you want to talk about what i’m wearing? what about that collar? what are you, nine?” barry shook his heaad. “yeah, i’m nine in my pants, babe. wanna find out?” rafe leaned back in his chair, chewing on his gum as he looked up at you. “aw, you wish.” you blew him a kiss, rolling your eyes when he blew you one back.

“alright, listen. y’all are gonna meet up with this guy on the south side. let him give you the money first, and then you give him the blow. standard shit.” barry shrugged, handing you the bag with the stuff. “rafe, i already sent you the meeting place, so just come back as soon as you can.” you pulled your mini skirt down as you walked past him, his eyes burning into your skin. “this guy.. is he dangerous?” you turned around, rafe already on your tail. “not really, he knows me, you should be fine.” rafe shooed you out the door, his fingertips skimming your lower back. “watch your hands, asshole.” he laughed, watching your hips sway as you walked to his truck.

“it’s a shame you’re such a bitch, you’re pretty hot.” he started driving away from barry’s trailer. “and you’re not.” you tucked the bag in your side, checking your lip gloss in the mirror. rafe would never admit it out loud, but he loved your snappy attitude. all the girls he encountered were too nice, and too willing to let him do whatever he wanted. he liked a challenge, and you didn’t fail to give him that. “just so you know, i’m doing all the talking when we get there.” you two spent the rest of the ride making smart remarks to one another until finally, the house came into view.

“you stay here, i’ll be right back.” he reached over, eyes flickering down to your lips before grabbing the bag. you watched him walk inside, salivating at the sight of his muscles moving under his shirt. time moved fast, and before you knew it, rafe had already been gone for twenty minutes. “where is he?” you muttered to yourself, glancing at the front door. you don’t know why but you had an awful feeling about this. cursing under your breath, you did the last thing anyone should do, and got off the truck.

making your way up the steps to the front door, you hesitantly knocked, waiting anxiously for someone to answer. sure enough, a guy wearing all black opened the door, two more men behind him. “hi, um- i’m a friend of barry’s, and someone else came in here a while ago, i was wondering if he’s almost done, with the deal i mean.” the guy gave you a once over. “is he your boyfriend or somethin’?” you shook your head immediately.

“god, no! i have somewhere to be and he’s taking long, i just need him to come back already.” you hid your phone in the waistband of your skirt as you stepped in, the sound of the door locking making you turn around. there was no sign of rafe anywhere, and your skin was starting to crawl with the way the whole room stared you down. “you know what.. i’ll just go wait for him the way i was- ow!” you yelped when you felt someone pick you up, their arms practically digging in your ribcage as they dragged you down a dark hallway.

rafe heard you screaming, shooting up from the bed as he fought to open the door. “you’re hurting me!” you cried, whimpering when he threw you into the same room that rafe was in. “you didn’t have to manhandle her, asshole!” he shouted, helping you up from the floor. once you gained your balance, you pushed him away. “you don’t need to do that.” a small flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face as he took a few steps back. “why the fuck did you get off the truck?” he started pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands.

“you were taking forever, i just wanted to see if you were okay! oh my god, is that a crime?” you took a seat on the edge of the bed. “you push me away when i’m checking on you, but you enter a stranger’s house to make sure i’m alright? how does that work?” he laughed bitterly, a small gasp leaving your lips when you spotted blood on his knuckles. “who knows what they’re gonna do to us now..” he cursed under his breath, making your eyebrows knit in confusion. “what are you talking about?” you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“barry must’ve given us the wrong bag. they weighed everything after they gave me the money, and they were two kilos short. ‘now they think i’m trying to run a play on them.” he sat down. “after they kicked my ass i told them i came alone and they just put me in here.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated groan emitting from his throat. you stayed silent for a moment. “why did you tell them you were by yourself?” you finally asked. “so that they wouldn’t look in the truck and take you next, but it looks like you saved them the work and did it yourself.” he looked over at you, fully expecting you to shoot back with something sarcastic, but instead he was met with your teary eyes.

“i figured you’d just leave with the truck and tell barry something was up.” you glared at him. “you thought i would just leave you here? i may be a bitch, rafe, but i’m not heartless.” he nodded. “yeah i’m gathering that.” you sniffled, suddenly remembering that you were crying in front of this man. “i’m gonna get us out of here, alright?” you wiped your cheeks, getting up to check the windows. “they’re bolted shut, i already tried.” you groaned, plopping back down on the bed with a sigh. “well i guess it’s a good thing i brought my phone.” you took out the device, tapping on barry’s contact.

rafe looked at you in disbelief, taking the phone from your hands as he pressed it against his ear. “fuck, he’s not answering.” he whispered, calling him once more. “give me it!” you grabbed it, making rafe roll his eyes. “hello?” barry spoke into the receiver. “hey, dickhead, you shorted us and now we’re in deep shit.” rafe shushed you, his eyes widening as the lock on the door started rattling. “you better get us out of this!” you hung up, stuffing the phone in your pocket at the same time one of the guys walked in.

“what are you two huddled up in the corner for?” he arched a brow. rafe cleared his throat. “what? i can’t talk to my girl?” you blinked, flashing the man in black an awkward smile. “look, i don’t care what you do, boss man is trying to figure out a way to get the rest of what he paid for. your guy isn’t the easiest person to get ahold of.” you eyed the gun in the waistband of his belt. “yeah, well you tell ‘boss man’ that we’re just delivering, we don’t have anything to do with the missing blow.” he waved you off, locking the door behind him. rafe’s shoulders fell in relief. “you need to watch that mouth of yours.” rafe grabbed you, backing you up into the wall.

“or what?” he clenched his jaw, the last band of patience he had left, snapping. without warning, he dragged you over to the bed, climbing on top of you as you gazed up at him. “alright, you know what? let’s settle this shit right now. bickering with you was fun the first ten minutes, now it’s just pissing me off. what’s your problem?” the rough material of his jeans scratched against your skin. “one minute you’re insulting me, and then you’re getting down to check on me in the middle of a deal, the next. sounds like you’re having trouble picking a side.” he laughed. “i’m the one having trouble picking a side? i can’t tell if you hate me most of the time or if you want to fuck me.” it was your turn to laugh.

he studied you, letting his eyes wander to where your tits practically spilled out of your top. rafe would be lying if he said he didn’t regularly think of having his way with you, sometimes wishing he could stuff his cock in your mouth to shut you up. “and what if i do?” he ran a hand down your arm, watching as your nipples hardened through your blouse. “you hate me? i hate you too,” you shivered, taking your top off, revealing your bare chest to him, “you want to fuck me? i want to fuck you too.” rafe cursed, the sight of you underneath him, topless and pretty, forever ingrained into his brain.

“i don’t think i should give you what you want.” he cupped your tits, squeezing as hard as he can before rolling your nipples between his fingers. you hissed at the pain, a smile forming on your lips as you palmed him through his pants. “it looks like you want me more than i want you,” you giggled, eyeing the erection in his pants. “how pathetic.” rafe wanted nothing more than to fuck you until you were a crying mess for him, and he wasn’t going to leave from here until that happened. without another word, he yanked you up, flipping you over on your tummy as he pulled your skirt and underwear down in one swift motion.

you gasped, letting out a yelp when his hand came down and smacked your ass. he kicked your legs apart, wasting no time in running his fingers between your folds. he gritted his teeth at the sight. you were glistening with how wet you were. he groaned, pulling a handful of your hair, forcing you to look at his digits before bringing them to your lips. “you’ve been soaked all fucking day,” he watched as you sucked on his fingers, moaning at the taste of yourself, “how pathetic.” rafe used your words against you as he forced your head into the sheets. you couldn’t help but rub your thighs together as you heard the clink of his belt, the heavy leather snapping against the skin of your thigh.

“fuck,” you whimpered. rafe rubbed the now reddening skin, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “someone can walk in here at any moment, so i’d suggest you shut the fuck up.” his jeans pooled at his ankles as he lifted your hips in the air, using one hand to arch your back, and the other to line himself up with your entrance. you had to cover your mouth in order to muffle the moans falling from your lips as the head of rafe’s cock stroked your clit. “fuck, ‘been wanting to do this for a long time.” with a small groan, rafe pushed himself inside of you, your velvety walls fluttering around the welcomed intrusion.

“holy shit.” his head rolled to the side, his eyebrows knitting in pleasure. “you feel so fucking good.” he wrapped your hair around his fist, pulling the makeshift ponytail as he thrusted into you. your mouth fell open in a silent moan, a small cry emitting from your mouth. “don’t want you to stop.” you whined, looking back at rafe with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. one look at your face made him curse under his breath, your eyes sparkling under the soft light of the room. “you’re so fucking pretty, baby.” he cupped your cheeks, taking your lips in a searing kiss.

your eyes fluttered shut as rafe pushed your head down once more. “m’gonna make you take every inch of this fuckin’ cock.” you pulled away momentarily, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. “you’re not in all the way?” rafe smiled, shaking his head. “i’m only at about half.” as if on cue, rafe’s hand came up to cover your mouth, muffling your scream when he fully pushed himself into you. the feeling of his cock filling you up to the hilt was unlike anything you ever felt before. rafe was doing everything he could to contain himself. embarrassingly enough for him, he felt like he was well on his way to cumming inside you.

he looked down, absolutely mesmerized by the way your pussy took him with ease. “oh my, fuck!” you reached back, holding onto his wrist as your hips started to meet his thrusts. the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, both of you not caring who heard anymore. rafe grunted, pulling out as he flipped you over on your back. “i wanna see your face.” he breathed, his fingers attacking your clit. your nails raked down his chest, stars exploding from behind your irises. rafe felt his balls tighten as he neared his climax. “are you on the pill?” he grabbed your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

you blinked slowly, the band in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment. “no..” you blinked slowly, a whimper falling from your lips as rafe lightly slapped your cheek. “no?” his jaw clenched, the revelation somehow turning him on even more. “i could baby trap you right now, ‘make you stay inside the house the way you’re supposed to,” your eyes rolled back as your thighs started trembling around his waist. rafe’s hips stuttered once he felt you clenching around him. “you’d want that, wouldn’t you? ‘wanna be taken care of?” you nodded, your orgasm hitting at the same time rafe filled you up with his load. he pulled you into his chest, keeping you still as you writhed beneath him.

“rafe!” you cried, tears threatening to spill at the overstimulation. “i know,” he kissed the crown of your head, “fuckin’ hell, i know.” he groaned, slowly coming to a stop. you were still dazed, your fingers running across his buzzed head as you reveled in the feeling of his weight on top of you. the two of you laid in silence, rafe’s chin resting in the crook of your neck. “are you okay?” he pressed a kiss against your skin, gazing down at you in all your sex afterglow.

you smiled shyly, making him stroke the side of your face. “we should give ‘not hating each other’ a try.” rafe helped you get dressed, putting his own clothes on soon after. “yeah, we should. you kinda cummed inside me, so..” he nodded, his lips forming a straight line. “yeah, i did. are you freaked out by that? ‘cause i’m not.” you laughed at how nonchalant he was at the whole thing. “i guess if you’re not, then i’m not.” you shrugged. he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “you’re a little misogynistic when you’re horny.” he hummed. “yeah? well, you came right after i said you belong in the house.” just as you were about to shoot back with something, the door slammed open.

“your guy came through with the stuff, both of you freaks could leave now.”

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echos-muses · 13 days

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actually, aemond’s eye went first

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echos-muses · 13 days

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helaena and aegon probably staging run ins and shit to force them to be alone together 🤣🤣 daeron just “i kinda thought they were already together”

i don’t know where to put this but i needed to share my thoughts and you and your blog are a safe space to me

modern!aemond x bsf!reader

growing up with aemond, helaena, aegon, and daeron as your closest friends

they always take you with on family trips and vacations because helaena doesn’t have a sister her age and the whole family pretty much claimed you as one of them

the reason being you punched one of helaena’s bullies in the face on the playground when you were 6 and she was 7

the bully was a bitch anyways she was pulling on your hair and stealing your accessories okay? and then on top of that she was being mean to a girl who never bothered anybody and just kinda did her own thing and was happy with it? you’d had enough of her shit!

from then on even though helaena didn’t condone the violence, her brothers very much encouraged it. what are they supposed to do? fight a girl? their mother would chastise them!

you were just the cutest thing too, curly brown hair so similar to alicent’s, rosy cheeks and freckles across your cheekbones and nose

you were girly as all hell, loved anything pink & pretty, but you really knew how to throw hands bro

eventually you started punching guys too and aegon probably said out loud “that was kinda hot” and it made aemond feel some type of way

like,, aegon doesn’t know you like he does! you two were both night owls and instead of being awake and bored, you two would talk on the house phones in your rooms, softly speaking as not to wake your families.

those nights slowly became more treasured as you aged, as you both matured, your conversations getting deeper.

helaena was your best friend in the whole world, all the sleep overs and time spent together, you two were each others yin and yang, but aemond? he was your soulmate. totally platonic of course!!

until you start getting older and helaena starts dating, you find yourself spending time lost with helaena with him.

you two could talk about anything and everything, more was on the table the more you both aged and matured

you had a question about how male underwear works because you don’t have balls and he does? you ask it. he had a question about the female body? he asks. it’s not like you could ask your families, that’d be weird!

eventually you two just decided to be each other’s first kiss, you wouldn’t want it to be awkward with your future prospects! that would be embarrassing! you want to impress them right?

when college comes around, the two of you share an apartment with helaena. it’s cost effective and you get your be with the people you love the most in the world, a win-win!

until being around aemond all the time becomes too much, putting you on edge. when the fuck did he become so god damn attractive? it’s entirely unfair. especially when you bumped into him after he showered, and he smelled oh so good…

helaena probably gets fed up and goes “oh my gods, just fuck already, you’ll feel better!” LOOOL

UGH ECHO PLS I LOVE THIS

Helaena and Aegon secretly shipping them all along, Alicent hoping they’ll get together

And these two are just crushing hard on each other with the other not knowing

GODDDDDD

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echos-muses · 14 days

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okay but i actually really liked the dynamic here, that was kinda sweet

The First Taste

summary | Aemond teaches Michael a few tricks on impressing the girl he likes. (boyfriend!aemond x reader, michael gavey x reader, mentions of himbo!gf x michael)

warning | 18+, minors dni

tags | oral sex (f), fingering, voyeur (?), reader and aemond are super freakyyy, making out, unprotected p in v, aemond's kind of a little shit in this, daddy kink, alt summary: the pussy eating champ teaches a willing apprentice 💦

wordcount | 4.4k

note | i've had this idea for a while and i could not wait to write this despite all the work i need to do!! if i get anything wrong about how oxford works i apologize i am ✨american✨

i loved writing this and i hope u guys enjoy. likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!

“God, Aemond!” You moaned loudly. Your boyfriend’s hips thrust into yours from behind roughly, his grip on your throat holding you in place. His dorm room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against each other, the bed frame creaking, and the mix of your whines and Aemond’s grunts. His arm held you by your waist, your body at an angle that made his cock hit deeper into your walls. You reached down and played with your clit, rubbing circles that hurled you closer to your peak, walls clenching tight around Aemond’s cock.

“Fuck, baby. You’re squeezing me so fucking tight.” He rasped from behind you. His fingers replaced yours on your clit, rubbing even faster in tandem with the rhythm of his hips. “I’m so close, daddy, please.” You whined. His hips continued to fuck you fast and hard, the pleasure making your toes clench and sweat beads on your hairline.

“Yeah? Y’gonna cum on my cock, baby?” He asked though all you could manage was a chorus of ‘yes’ that fell from your lips as a response. Your back pressed against his bare chest as you reached back to grip the hair on the back of his neck, making him groan in your ear at how tight you pulled. It was hearing every string of curses and grunts of your name that fell from his lips that pushed you over the edge, letting out a whine, your eyes rolling back as you spilled on his cock. Aemond continued to fuck you through your peak, spilling into your walls not long after.

You fell forward onto the soft mattress, letting out a small hiss as he pulled out of you. Warm hands spread your cheeks, an appreciative hum at the sight of both of your juicy flowing out of your slit. Two of his fingers scooped up what spilled out of you and pushed them back into your oversensitive core, making you whine and blindly reach back to smack him. He chuckled as he dodged your feeble attempt at hitting him, planting a kiss on your lower back before pulling away to grab a towel to clean you up. You remained lying on your stomach, eyes closed, basking in utter bliss as your boyfriend wiped you clean.

“What time is it?” You mumbled, though made no move to check the clock. A groan left your lips when Aemond told you the time. You had to leave soon for your tutorial, but getting up became a much harder challenge when you felt a warmth engulf you from the back, soft kisses peppered on the back of your shoulder as Aemond cuddled you. “Just a couple more minutes.” He whispered into your skin.

“Mm, no, I promised Michael I’d be early this time.” You said, moving to get up. Aemond sighed as he turned to lay on his back. “Of course, can’t have Michael waiting now can we?” He grumbled. You tutted his name in scolding, walking away from the bed to his dresser where he kept a drawer of spare clothes for you. His good eye watched you as you started getting dressed, a low chuckle falling from his lips at the slight limp as you walked around in his room.

“What?” You sassed, narrowing your eyes at his snickering form. He only shook his head, an amused glint in his eye, dimples showing as he smiled.

You stood in front of the mirror, fixing your hair when Aemond, now clad in his boxers, approached from behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you close to him. His head dipped to snuggle into the skin of your neck, silver locks falling around him like a curtain. You giggled as his hair tickled you, making him let out a breathy chuckle as he kissed your neck once more. One blue eye met yours in the mirror, a pleased sigh falling from your lips as you leaned your head against his. Your heart swelled with affection for him, your eyes shone as you stared back at him with a smile.

The tender moment between the pair of you gets interrupted by the ping! that comes from your BlackBerry. Aemond resisted the urge to roll his eye, knowing fully well who that could be from.

You and Michael Gavey had your tutorials together. He was a year below you, but you often found yourself seeking him for help with some of your classwork. He was a pure genius, something he most certainly does not hide. However, you’ve noticed he doesn’t seem to get along well with a lot of his peers. Truthfully, you were still yet to see him with a friend, other than Oliver Quick, though you know that didn’t last long as you’ve now started seeing him around with Felix Catton, the pair now stuck at the hip. On the occasional nights when you and Aemond joined Felix and his little bunch, timid Oliver seems to take on a new persona, acting so different than when he only had Michael as his friend. Though Michael’s personality can be quite off-putting to most, you’ve found that he can be quite sweet, to you at least. You felt the need to look out for him. When Aemond was in class, you often sat with Michael at the library or brought him to the pub when your tutorials finished a bit later.

This bothered Aemond, of course. Your boyfriend was possessive as ever, and though he knew you were treating Michael this way out of your pure, genuine kindness for a friend, he wasn’t so sure if the math nerd saw it the same way. He’d seen the way Michael looked at you, like you were the first woman he had ever seen. It was quite pathetic, the way he would catch him often following your tail like a lost puppy as you exited the building together. You had tried to get Aemond to warm up to Michael on the occasions your friend joined you and your boyfriend at the pub. They had strong personalities and were ridiculously smart in their own interests, often acting so similar that it almost irked you.

Aemond had started to tolerate Michael’s presence only after you asked him sweetly so many times. He could never deny his girl, and if it made you happy he would listen to Michael complain about the idiots in his classes all the time. Still, he couldn’t ignore the jealousy that sparked in his chest every time you had to leave him to spend time with Gavey.

As another notification dings from your phone, Aemond pulls away from you to let you finish getting ready, grumbling under his breath. He walks over to sit by the window ledge, lighting a cigarette after he opens the window.

“You know Michael has been busy seeing a girl lately?” You mentioned, still focused on your face in the mirror as you dabbed some blush on your cheek. Aemond scoffed as he heard you, unbelieving of Michael’s ability to charm a woman. “Yeah? Does the girl know they’re seeing each other?” He snorted, catching the glare you threw his way.

“Of course she does, babe, don’t be ridiculous.” You said, running a hairbrush as a feeble attempt to fix the tangles in your hair. “Think he said her name’s Stacy or whatever.”

Aemond’s eyebrows shot up to his forehead at the mention of her name. He couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that fell from his lips, shaking his head in disbelief. You turned to him confused, starting to grow annoyed with the way he was acting. “What’s so funny?” It took a couple of seconds before he could answer, his shoulder shaking as he chuckled. “Stacey? Stacey Owens? With the..” He explained, pointing to his chest, referring to the blonde’s tits. Realization dawned on your face as you remembered who he was referring to. Stacey Owens used to be one of Felix’s flings, hanging around their group for a little while before things between them fizzled out. She was always clad in either the tiniest tops paired with skirts the size of a belt, or hot pink velour Juicy tracksuits. Blonde, gorgeous, and blessed with the most perfect voluptuous pair of tits you’ve ever seen. You even asked her which bra she wore once, just because they always looked pushed up to her chin. Stacey was sweet, but she was a little… slow. It always took the poor girl a couple of moments to catch when a joke was being played on her, but even then it was visible in her eyes that she didn’t fully get it.

“Huh. Didn’t know that was Michael’s type.” You said, clearly stunned. What an interesting pair those two must make. You couldn’t even imagine what those two talk about, let alone have anything in common.

“You think he’s blackmailing her or what?” Your boyfriend quips, still heavily amused by the news.

“Aemond!”

You lay on your single bed in your dorm room, head half hanging on the edge of the bed while Michael sat on the floor, leaning on your bed beside you. You had invited him over to your room after your tutorials just to hang out, though his idea of hanging out included asking you math trivia. “Do you know how many moves it takes to solve a Rubik’s cube?” He asked, fiddling with what he called a Mirror Block, which looked pretty much like a standard cube except its proportions weren’t uniform.

“20.” Aemond piped up, answering before you could. He arrived just shortly after his lecture finished, settling on your computer chair, and reading his book quietly as you and Michael chatted. You frowned as you thought about the times you’ve attempted to solve a cube, it most definitely did not take you 20 moves to accomplish. “No way, really?” You turned to Michael, who simply hummed an ‘mhm’.

“Here’s a question for you, mate…” Aemond said, tossing his book on your desk to turn his attention to Gavey’s unassuming form. “Stacey Owens, huh?”

“I– Uh, we’re– I’m just tutoring her.” Poor Michael stuttered, his cheeks reddening almost immediately at the mention of the bombshell’s name. You turned around to lay on your stomach, slapping Michael’s shoulder, exclaiming, “What, Michael! You said you were taking her out tonight!”

“No, it’s just… she just wanted to celebrate for doing well on her exam. We’re just going to the pub, it’s nothing special, really.” He explained, rubbing at his ears anxiously as his eyes fell to his lap. Your eyes met your boyfriend’s, who took on a mischievous glint in his eye. He was planning something, you were almost sure of it. “I can think of a way you two can celebrate,” Aemond said to Michael, though his eye stayed on you. Your eyebrows raised at him, starting to get what he was insinuating. The silver-haired man merely smirked at you, before training his eye on Gavey.

“Oh yeah?” Michael asked, genuinely curious. He really liked Stacey, though his lack of experience in the romance category and his overall awkward personality made him insecure and unsure of what to do about his feelings for her. “Easy, just take her back to yours.” Aemond suggested, shrugging nonchalantly. You watched as your friend only blinked at him in response. “To do what?” He queried, still clueless. Michael supposed he could show her how to play the latest video game he has been obsessed with, though he wasn’t sure Stacey would enjoy that.

“Oh, come on, Gavey. Don’t act as if you’ve never brought back a girl to your room for some fun before.” Aemond teased, though he seemed to be proven correct when Michael didn’t answer, fiddling with his cube again. He never said it out loud, but he assumed just as much.

“Stop it.” You scolded him, your boyfriend merely shrugging, throwing his hands up in mock surrender as you glared at him, making you sigh. You turned to Michael, who was still flushed up to the tip of his ears. “Ignore him, Michael.”

You felt bad for him, truly, and wanted to help him impress Stacey as much as you could. Michael sat in thought for a moment, gathering the urge to open up to the two people he considered his friends… well, he’s not sure about Aemond, but you are definitely the closest friend he has in Oxford.

“Well, I mean, I-I want to, I mean just look at her! Fuck’s sake, who wouldn’t?” He rambled, hands waving around as he spoke. There had been one too many occasions where Michael had to excuse himself when his dick would get hard at the slightest touch from Stacey, or from you, but he would never admit that, especially not in front of Aemond. He desperately wants to and is frustrated to no end because of his lack of experience. It’s not like this is something he can read in a textbook after all. “I just… I don’t know how.” Michael finally admits, sighing. He looks at the both of you, anticipating you to break out in laughter in his face. None of it came, though Aemond was the one to speak up.

“We could teach you.” He suggested, catching both you and Michael in surprise. The latter stammered, clearly flustered at the proposal. He turned to you, expecting you to be outraged at your boyfriend for his indecent suggestion, but there were no signs of objection on your face. “Only if you want to, Michael.” You smiled.

“How?” Michael asked.

You turned to Aemond since this was clearly his idea. As your eyes met, Michael felt the change in the air between the two of you. He’d felt it before when he would be with the pair of you and the atmosphere would suddenly change into something charged. It would always feel like he was intruding on something, but this time he felt the energy being directed towards him. Aemond looks at you with a lustful glint in his eye and gives you a subtle nod. You turn back to your friend on the floor and say, “Aemond’ll tell you what to do, and then you try it on me.”

Michael takes another look at the both of you, making sure this wasn’t some sick game you were playing on him. When he was met with encouraging looks from the couple, he took a deep breath and then nodded. “Okay.” He agreed, making a mischievous smile break out on Aemond’s face. You sit up, feet dangling over where your head had been, excitement prickling underneath your skin at being the boys’ little test subject.

“Right, well first things first, you gotta know how to kiss a girl, yeah?” Aemond starts, gesturing for Michael to try. “Go on.” He urged. Michael kneels in front of you, a clammy hand cupping your jaw. “Is this okay?” He whispered to you, earning a nod and an encouraging smile from you. You both lean forward and he pecks your lips, pulling away immediately to test your reaction.

“Come on, mate. You gotta do more than that.” Aemond interjects. Deciding to take the lead for a bit, you lean forward to kiss Michael deeper, just to get him to loosen up and get familiar with the sensation. As your mouths part, Aemond urges him to use his tongue. He follows the instruction, experimentally dipping his tongue into your mouth, grunting in surprise as your tongue meets his. Michael’s hands clench into fists beside your thighs, his cock already straining painfully hard in his cargo pants from kissing alone.

“You can touch her, mate. She won’t bite, not unless you ask.” Aemond encourages him. As you continue to make out, Michael places his hands on your shoulders at first, before sliding down to your waist. You both pull away, catching your breath. His thin frames have gone slightly askew, and you huff a soft laugh as your fingers reach up to fix it for him. “Why don’t you try kissing my neck?” You suggest this time. He took no second to do so, peppering kisses down your neck. Michael gives an experimental suck on your skin, attempting to give you a hickey, which makes you gasp.

“No marks.” Aemond warns which Michael immediately obeys, switching back to giving your neck kisses and soft licks, tugging very lightly on the skin that wouldn’t leave any mark. Your hand caresses the back of his head, and your eyes flicker to your boyfriend, who stares at you with an intense look that makes your face warm. Next, Aemond instructs Michael to take off your bottoms. You help him tug them off, your panties going along with your shorts. You lean back on your hands, spreading your legs to give Michael a view, who visibly gulps at the sight. His cock twitches at the sight, his eyes unable to tear away at your folds that started to drip. Of course, he’s seen a pussy before… but not in real life. No amount of porn could have prepared him for actually being face to face as one as delectable and pink as yours.

“She’s got a pretty pussy, doesn’t she? Gets really nice and wet.” Aemond boasts. The lustful gazes coming from both men made your nipples hard, your arousal starting to drip from your slit in anticipation. “Now, before you start pleasuring a woman, you’ve got to tease her a bit. They like that.” He tells Michael, instructing him to start with light touches. Gavey starts to kiss and lightly suck on the inside of your thighs, just like he did with your neck, squeezing the meat of your flesh in his hands. Your breath starts to grow heavy, and as his index finger lightly runs down your slit, he earns another gasp from you. Emboldened by your reaction, Michael repeats the action but presses a little more. His finger rubs on your folds, marveling at how your essence coats his fingertip. A soft whimper falls from your lips, and your hips start to squirm in search of more.

“Why don’t you show him your clit, baby?” Aemond prompts you. Two fingers spread your folds, revealing more of your pussy while your free hand takes Michael’s and places it on your pearl. He is instructed to rub it, not too hard, and is in awe at the instant effects it has on you. He could see your hardened nipples through the fabric of your tank top, the sight making his cock jump. A moan falling from your lips encourages him, his thumb rubbing your nub a little faster. “Does this feel good?” He asks you, to which you respond with an enthusiastic nod.

The next thing Aemond instructs Michael to do is to use his tongue. “Start slow, then you can go deeper.” He advised, to which Michael follows by giving your slit a few licks. You tasted utterly divine, even better than his beloved crunchies. Michael couldn’t believe the position he found himself in. If someone told him 6 months ago, he would be nose deep into the pussy of the girl who gave him a sweet smile on their first tutorial, all the while her boyfriend watched– encouraged him, the math geek would’ve rolled his eyes and thought a prank was being played on him. He was starting to get lost in your taste, following his urges as he starts eating your pussy out in earnest as Aemond guides him.

As he became much more confident in his actions, Michael combined the things Aemond has taught him so far as his thumb rubbed circles on your clit as his mouth continued to pleasure you. The room is filled with the sound of your moans, the wet sounds coming from between your thighs, and Aemond’s voice as he guides Michael. A hand grips his hair while your hips start to gyrate on his face, moving on its own accord. Your eyes meet Aemond’s, who now has his legs spread wider, the imprint of his hard cock straining against his sweats as he watches you. His gaze stays on your face, watching as your brows furrow and your jaw falls slack, moans openly falling from your lips.

If there’s anything Aemond loved to do, it was to watch you take your pleasure. He loves watching you throw back your head, tits bouncing in his face every time you rode his cock. He even makes you play with yourself sometimes while he jerks off at the sight of you spilling around your fingers. His favorite memory, however, one that instantly stirs his cock when he remembers, was when you made a little show of fucking yourself on a dildo suctioned to the floor, squirting all over the surface as you finished. As possessive as your boyfriend can be, you know he is enjoying this almost as much as Michael is.

To help finish you off, Michael is urged to use his fingers. Two fingers enter you, thrusting in and out at a steady pace. He curves them, just like he’s seen in the pornos (for research, of course). “Curve your finge— There you go.” Aemond commends him, apparently needing no instruction for that one. You throw your head back in delight as Michael finds that rough patch within you. “Fuck, right there!” You moaned out, eyes rolling back as his fingertips massaged that spot. The coil in your belly grew tighter, threatening to break, while your walls clenched around Michael’s fingers tight, much to his amazement.

“Aem– Oh!” You barely catch yourself, biting your lips hard as Michael hurls you towards your precipice. He didn’t seem to mind your little slip, barely even noticing as he stares in awe at how your pussy swallowed his fingers whole, your juices making it squelch. The last thing Aemond tells him to do is to suck on your clit, to which he happily obliges. Your thighs shook around his head, your fingers gripping his dirty blonde tresses tightly as you ground your hips on his face. The sensation of his nose against you added to the overwhelming sensation that threatened to wash you over. You turn to Aemond, eyes pleading to let you cum. When he nods, you let yourself go, letting out a long whine as you spill on Michael’s fingers. You plop back on your bed as you finish, mind hazy, not even noticing the way Michael moaned as he tasted your release on his fingers.

Aemond approaches you with a damp towel he somehow procured, wiping you clean, before handing it to Michael to clean off his hand. Your boyfriend rubs your calf, squeezing it softly. “What do you think, baby? D’you think Michael’s ready?” He asks you, making you lift your head to look at the two men who stared down at you. “I think Stacey’s a very lucky girl.” You say, still breathless from your orgasm.

After cleaning up, Michael gets a text from Stacey, as the hour of their date approaches. With a wave and wish of good luck from you, your friend takes his leave with Aemond walking him to the door.

“You were okay with this, right?” Michael asks the silver-haired man, who nods.

“Yeah, mate, don’t worry about it, alright? I’m happy to help.” Aemond reassured him. Michael lets out a sigh, before muttering a ‘thank you’. He steps out of the door, tucking his hands in his pockets.

“Listen, Michael,” Aemond says, making him turn back around to face him. The Targaryen looks back to check on you, before turning back to Michael, speaking lowly, “This was just a one-time thing, alright? She really looks out for you, and I know how much she cares for you. We both want this to work out with you and Stacey.”

Michael nods, completely understanding. He can’t even begin how thankful he is for the two, no doubt making a big fool of himself if you didn’t teach him this stuff. “Thanks, mate, really.” He thanks him. Aemond nods, before patting the younger man on the shoulder. “Don’t be too nervous. Just be yourself, yeah? She’ll be obsessed with you after tonight if you remember what I taught you.” He advises him. Michael scratches the back of his head with a chuckle and nods.

When Michael leaves for his date, Aemond walks back to you after closing the door behind him. You were still lying on your bed, knees bent, now sans your top. Your hands fondled your breasts as you watched him approach you, teasing your nipples as desire coursed through you from the hungry look in his eye. As much as you enjoyed the way Michael brought you to your release, your core still pulsed in need for Aemond.

“You had your fun tonight, didn’t you baby?” He asks, hands coming to your knees to spread them wide. His eye fell on your pussy that was still glistening with the combination of your arousal and Michael’s spit. You nod your head at him, biting your lip.

“Mhm. Told you he'd agree. I know you liked it too, Daddy.” You teased, foot coming up to rub at his cock that still strained at his sweats, no doubt aching with release. Aemond smirks down at you, and slips off his shirt, before pulling down his pants, cock slapping against his abs as it's released.

He fucks you well through the night, manhandling you into positions that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and leaving you in utter bliss when you both finally tapped out from exhaustion.

Walking out of your tutorial, you and Michael spot Aemond leaning outside the stone wall of the building. You greet your boyfriend with a kiss, and he greets Michael with a nod. The three of you chat for a bit, but a voice from behind you interrupts your conversation, making all three of you turn towards the source.

“Mikey!” Stacey calls out, before practically jumping into a surprised Michael’s arms. She cups his face into her hands, before smashing their lips together. You were taken aback as they practically started eating each other’s faces in front of you, while Aemond sports an amused smirk on his face, even looking quite impressed at Michael’s growth in confidence.

When they finally pull away, Michael introduces Stacey to you and Aemond as his friends, to which she enthusiastically greets both of you, even pulling you into a tight hug, much to your surprise. As the blonde squeezes you tight, Aemond claps Michael on the back in approval.

“Seems like you’re quite the fast learner, Gavey.”

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