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fayes-fics · 2 months

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Friends & Family

Friends + Masterpost

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Anthony has a very important question to ask, but the universe appears to be conspiring against him. Threequel. Set a year after the first fic in this series

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI. Public sexual acts, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, woman on top, back-to-back orgasm. Also, on a non-sexual front, all sorts of emotions and thwarted proposals.

Word Count: 5.4k

Authors Note: This is VERY, VERY belated request fill for the divine @colettebronte. She has had the patience of a saint as I have grappled with this request for many months. I hope this is worth the wait, but to be honest, after this delay, I'm not sure anything could be. Thank you to @sorryallonsy for betaing. Please enjoy <3

“Viscount Anthony Bridgerton, what is this??”

There is an undignified yelp, and a spatula drops to the floor with a loud splat. Apparently, he didn't hear you come in.

“Bloody hell! You scared the shit out of me… And what is the full-name business all about?” he exclaims, spinning around, holding his hands aloft as if in a hostage situation. The sight is made even funnier by the fact he is wearing one of your novelty aprons, complete with floppy bunny ears.

You have walked in from afternoon coffee with old friends to find your kitchen in absolute disarray. Pots, pats on every surface, opened containers, the contents of your spice cupboard all pulled out and haphazardly dotted around. There is a large pile of reusable shopping bags with half-open veggies in and what looks like a sourdough loaf cut open and likely going stale next to the complete wrong knife for the job at hand. There is almost no worktop surface that is left unused or covered in some sticky-looking residue from god knows what.

“I said yes to you making dinner while I was out; I did not say you could conduct some kind of controlled explosion in my kitchen,” holding your hands up in exasperated resignation.

Frankly, it’s a mystery why he offered to make dinner in the first place; you have never seen the man so much as boil an egg in all the years you have known him. And certainly not in the twelve months you have loved him. His idea of cooking is usually stopping at Whole Foods to pick up a hot rotisserie chicken.

He walks towards you with that adorable puppy dog expression, his perennial get-out-of-jail-free card. You pick a fleck of what you think is broccoli from his hair as he reaches you.

“Points for effort?” he pouts, a tiny smile toying with the corners of his mouth, seeking forgiveness. You let him pull you into his arms and kiss your cheek. “Do you still love me?” he teases, pulling back to shoot you that perfect-toothed charming grin.

“I’ll love you even more if you tidy all this up,” you counter, raising an eyebrow as he chuckles. “Although I’m intrigued. You have never once made dinner since we’ve been dating; why now?”

“Well, I wanted to do something special…” he says pointedly, pulling away to switch off the hob when there is a slight burning smell in the air.

“What’s so special about today?” You frown.

“Really?” He spins around to look at you, a slight pout as you wrack your brains. “What happened on this date one year ago?”

Ohhh…

You feel bad you had completely not realised it. Exactly one year ago to this day, you got together after many years of combative flirting. Heart melting in your ribcage as you suddenly realise this is him attempting to cook an anniversary dinner for you.

“You secret romantic, you,” you murmur, contrition and affection burning inside as you can't help but seek his touch.

“Don’t let anyone know,” he jests as he pulls you into his arms again and kisses your temple. “I have a reputation to uphold….”

“Of course…” you giggle, resting your head on his shoulders as you sway together in the bombsite that was your kitchen. “And here was me thinking you would do something far more risqué…”

“Such as..?” he prompts, intrigued by where your thoughts have gone.

“Oh, I don't know….” you run your fingers into his lush hair, pressing into him. “Maybe take me back to that same penthouse your friend owns. Maybe make it to that overpriced sofa this time…” his eyes flash dark and dangerous, licking his lips, and you feel compelled to continue, “Maybe even that enormous bed. And the balcony….”

He groans gently as his mind no doubt fills with the same images as yours. “Fuckkkkkkk….” he rues, “I should have done that. I’m definitely no Gordon Ramsey….”

You laugh and run your hands up his biceps. “Maybe not. But I do have a suggestion…” you offer, dropping your voice a little smokier.

“Tell me…” Anthony rumbles, nudging your cheek until your lips brush, fingers digging into your flesh where he holds you.

“Let's work up an appetite and then order from our usual. Tidying up can wait…” you whisper, mouth ghosting over his, fingers opening the top button of his shirt and toying with the patch of chest hair.

“You’re fucking perfect.”

You squeal gently as he picks you up and strides towards your bedroom. The little navy velvet box burning a hole in his suit jacket pocket can wait for another day. Perhaps.

—

During a boring editorial meeting the following morning, your phone buzzes in your lap.

AB: Can you be at mine at 7pm tonight?

Y/N: Yes… but why?

AB: All will be revealed 😉

AB: Come hungry for delicious protein

Y/N: Filthy. I like it. 😉😛

AB: OMG NO! Not THAT. Bloody hell…

Y/N: Shame…

AB: Well, okay, maybe a bit of that. Afterwards. 😉

Y/N: *victory dance* 💃

AB: I love you, you filthy animal 😛😘

—

You walk into Anthony’s kitchen at precisely 7pm that evening to find some very posh-looking man in a bowtie pouring some wine into the good glasses. The ones you are too scared to use.

“What is all this?” Your curiosity piqued.

“Cooking was a disaster, so this is recompense,” Anthony greets you with a hug and a brief kiss on the lips.

He looks handsome in his usual crisp shirt, undone just enough at the chest to be distracting, and custom-tailored trousers that cling to him just right. It takes some effort to tear your eyes away from him, but when you do, you now see a smorgasbord of cheese on his expansive, pristine white marble kitchen island, with fruit, crackers and all manner of chutneys.

“Oooh, lovely. Fancy cheese and wine night?” you guess.

“Indeed,” he replies warmly. “Baxter here is a world-renowned expert on such things. He will be taking us on a cheese world tour paired with the very best wines.”

“Sounds lovely. Thank you,” you nod to the man, then crowd into Anthony again. “The anniversary of our first proper date?” you guess, kissing his jaw, enjoying the slight rasp of stubble there.

“The lady is learning…” he ribs genially, taking your hand and pulling you along to take a seat on one of the stools.

Baxter speaks engagingly and knowledgeable, and admittedly, every cheese and wine pairing is exquisite. Just a bite from each, but after 10 countries, you are a little tipsy, leaning into Anthony and shooting him goofy smiles, resting your chin on his shoulder, cheekily grabbing his thigh where the fabric pulls taut right over his quad muscle so temptingly. You want to climb into his lap and wrap around him.

After an hour, the man politely takes his leave, mentioning he has left some more “adventurous” choices in sealed boxes in the fridge.

“What does adventurous cheese mean?” you tipsily ponder after the man has left. “Do you think it's abseiled down a mountain?”

Anthony laughs accommodatingly at your goofiness, taking your hand and leading you outside onto the balcony. “I assume strong-flavoured maybe. But I’m quite sure it's all bravado,” he assures.

You lean on the railing, looking down upon the Thames below, all of London seeming reflected in its inky depths, a thousand lights twinkling in its choppy waves, like a sea of stars beneath you.

“I could never tire of this view,” you declare wistfully, a warmth behind your ribs as he crowds into your back, placing a light blanket around your shoulders.

“It is yours to enjoy for as long as it is mine,” he breathes into your hair, kissing your temple and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You sway together gently in the breeze, your hands over his, pushing back into his warm body.

“I love you,” you say quietly, turning to nuzzle his cheek.

“I love you too,” he responds immediately, “and I have for so long now; it feels wrong when you are not with me,” his tone ardent, gentle. “Wait here….” he whispers, a waver in his voice that makes you pause.

You wait patiently as he slips back inside, the breeze dancing through your hair as you inhale deeply and soak in the city. Although you are high above street level, the sounds are still there, like a background hum. It’s as energising as the country air at his rural ancestral home in Kent, just in a different way—so vibrant and teeming with life.

Anthony seems to be gone for a while, so out of intrigue, you wander inside to the fridge, grab one of the containers Baxter left and take it back onto the balcony before he reappears. When you peel it open, you are taken aback by the smell. It's very pungent, even out in the open air.

“There is an important question I wa…” Anthony freezes mid-sentence. “Dear god, what is that smell?” he exclaims, his face scrunching violently.

“Oh, I think it's the cheese Baxter left.”

You swing the container around so it's right under his nose and watch him go white as a sheet and then double over to one side, dry heaving.

“That's disgusting!” He gags, quickly putting something small from his hand into his trouser pocket as he coughs roughly, almost bent double.

“It’s not that bad, is it?” you frown, bringing the container back to your own nose, closer than you had it before.

Then, a wave of nausea hits you, too. It smells of decay and bad feet and turns your stomach so violently that you have to grab the balcony railing to stop yourself from stumbling.

“Fuck that's terrible,” you stutter, trying hard to keep down the rich wines and cheeses you have already consumed.

“Throw it!” Anthony blurts, somewhat frantic.

“Where?” you panic, holding it away at arm's length, desperate to stay upwind of it.

“Off the fucking balcony! Fling it in the Thames! I can't even have that shit in my bins….” he yelps before another wretch doubles him over again.

Gripping the container, you fling the contents as hard as you can, watching the blob of cheese sail downwards in an arc for twelve storeys, hitting the river below with a distant but satisfying plop. You both stand there wheezing and gasping as you reseal the container immediately, fearful of any residual scent.

“Dear god, am I going to inadvertently ruin every one of these special evenings?” he grumbles under his breath, sounding more like a rhetorical question than anything.

You have no idea what he could mean, but you don’t have the capacity to ask - you have to run to the cloakroom as the mere olfactory flashback makes you nauseated.

When you reemerge ten minutes later, full of regret and needing toothpaste, you find him in his en suite bathroom in a similar fragile state. You both crawl into his bed feeling delicate, curling up foetal and holding hands across the expanse of the bed, him muttering apologies.

—

III

The following week, Anthony takes you back to the same restaurant where you had your second date, one year to the day later. Seeing the pattern in advance, you wear the beautiful little black dress he bought you recently. And you are pleased to make him temporarily tongue-tied when you slip off your coat to reveal it, whispering coquettishly in his ear that you are happy to skip dinner and return to his.

“Oh, we will,” he rumbles, a promissory note that lights a fire low in your belly.

After perusing the menu, you decide to order the same dish you had last time. You are certain everything is terrific, but you remember it being so delicious it had you making noises only Anthony usually can. Also, you are hoping for a complete repeat of the same night from a year ago. Memorably, it was the first time he managed to give you three orgasms in one night—you are very keen to repeat that.

But rather strangely, Anthony’s energy seems slightly off, almost nervous. You can only assume it's apprehension that this night does not go as the previous two attempts at anniversary celebrations have.

While you are sharing a delicious starter, a familiar face over the room at the bar catches your eye.

“Is that Benedict?” you frown, causing Anthony to twist in your booth and look.

“Probably,” he sighs.

You are nonplussed by his reaction, so you take it upon yourself to wave to him, to Anthony’s seeming chagrin.

When Benedict wanders over, you notice his shoulders are hunched, a shuffled gait. Not the usual mister sunshine he is.

“Hey Ben, everything okay?” you check as he pulls up nearby, hovering a little.

“I got dumped,” he exhales. “So I’m drowning my sorrows,” he explains, holding his whiskey tumbler aloft in a rueful toast.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you grimace, knowing he has been more unlucky in love than not, which seems a shame; he’s a sweet, good-looking man but often gets used, attracted to people who take advantage of his giving nature.

“Anyway, I don’t want to interrupt your dinner…” he placates modestly, glancing at his older brother, who seems to be brooding.

“Don't be silly, you can join us,” you beckon him into the booth.

“No, he can’t,” Anthony interjects.

You frown at him. “Why not? It’s just dinner,” you dispute.

“No, it’s not; it’s our anniversary,” Anthony argues before turning to Benedict. “Brother, I love you and all, but would you kindly fuck off?” Anthony grouses, gritting his teeth.

“Anthony!” You admonish. “Don’t be a dick!” You roll your eyes. “Ignore your grouchy brother, Ben; of course, you can join us,” you offer again, seeing the hesitancy but also the sadness tugging at the corner of his eyes that means you are worried about leaving him alone.

He acquiesces, and as he wanders across to the bar to grab his jacket and join you, you scowl at Anthony. “He’s just been dumped. You could be nicer,”

“I could… just not tonight,” he says, almost harangued.

You decide not to dwell on why he seems unduly hung up on this evening’s plans, being so particular, watching him seem to fiddle with an item in his jacket pocket, then look askance across the restaurant, defeated.

“Anthony, are you okay?” You check quietly as Benedict walks back over.

“Yeah, I just….” He sighs and finally meets your eye squarely with a tinge of sadness. “I had other plans for us tonight. Not babysitting…”

At one point during the main course, Benedict excuses himself to the bathroom. Anthony has been mostly monosyllabic, almost sulking, and you feel guilty; perhaps he did indeed have other ideas for the evening.

You shuffle around to lean into him and grab his hand, placing it high on your thigh under the table, the message unmistakable.

“We can still have our plans for later…” you whisper hotly into his ear.

He seems to perk up immediately, his hand grasping your flesh in a way that catches your breath. “You always know what to say to make me feel better…” he murmurs, at once playful and reverent.

“Touch me…” you whisper, the need for him an instant, tart taste in your mouth.

“Here, in the restaurant? With my brother coming back to join us any moment?” His tone is incredulous but unmistakably aroused.

“Yes…” you hiss, pushing his hand up higher to the junction of your thighs where you burn molten for him always.

He growls when he realises you have made another style choice, this one scandalous—no underwear.

“I’ll do more than that, you wonderful minx,” he huffs, pulling your thigh over his lap under the tablecloth. He plunges two fingers into your aching pussy and presses his thumb over your clit. You gasp and grip the table hard, just as Benedict reappears.

It certainly does wonders for Anthony’s disposition, like he is a different man now. Chatting amiably to his brother as you subtly try not to look flustered, dripping silently into his palm as he holds still.

“Whatever you did to put this one in a better mood, thank you,” Benedict jests at one point.

“I just had to give the old grouch a hug and his favourite toy to keep him entertained,” you joke back, him not realising exactly how true that is. Anthony’s fingers flex deep inside you at your cheeky riposte, and you can feel his smirk as you have to cough to hide your moan.

“Well, thank you,” Benedict smiles, “you bring things out in my brother I never thought I would see. So whatever magic trick you are pulling, keep doing it.”

Anthony’s fingers curl hard against your g spot, and you have to laugh loudly to not scream.

“She’s the very best brother,” Anthony replies, lips brushing your temple as he flicks his thumb teasingly over your clit. “I hope one day you find someone as special as she is,” he offers, his first sympathetic noise to his brother of the evening.

“I should be so lucky,” Benedict adds quietly, tone pensive, glancing at his phone as it lights up by his elbow.

Anthony withdraws from your pussy; you whimper mutely, feeling bereft but also relieved, not sure you can act any longer. You watch as he brings those fingers up to his mouth and sucks them decadently as Benedict is distracted by his phone.

“Thank you for dessert, my love,” he thrums into your ear, “and the show,” he adds cheekily, your clit and pussy clenching, denied, so very aroused.

“Take me home right now, Anthony!” Your order is through gritted teeth, quiet but brokering no argument.

And he does.

—

A tide of relief hits you as the door to his sleek penthouse clicks softly open; tossing aside your umbrella and slipping off your shoes in the fancy hallway. It's been a taxing work day; all you can think about is climbing into the shower, then curling up and watching something mindless until Anthony gets home.

“Y/n…”

An enticing but distant call in that familiar voice.

“Anthony?” you respond, puzzled. “I thought you would be out late tonight?” you add, wandering forward, trying to find the source.

“Change of plan….”

You cross the open-plan lounge area with its floor-to-ceiling view across the rooftops of London. It's been more than a year of dating, and still, you aren't entirely used to the sheer scale of his place compared to yours. It feels like it takes ages to get across just his living room.

“Where are you?” you frown, hands on hips. It sounds like he's likely in the bedroom.

“Follow the sound of my voice,” he entices, and yep, it's definitely from that direction.

However, when you wander in, the room is empty, the early evening sun blazing onto the soft, luxurious white duvet on his vast bed.

“Getting warmer,” he offers, quieter now, and you recognise his voice has an echo. He can only be in his en-suite bathroom.

You round the corner into that tastefully masculine room - all slate and birch - to be greeted by a sight that makes your lungs feel too tight.

There, in his sizeable sunken whirlpool tub, is one Anthony Bridgerton. Very naked and very wet. Standing so that the bubbling waterline hugs his hips—acres of toned torso, water droplets meandering down the washboard of his stomach and glistening in the thatch of hair across his chest. You bite your lips without even realising it, shifting your stance as you feel a ripple of excitement over your skin.

“Hello, Ms y/l/n,” he preens, knowing exactly how much the sight before you makes you tongue-tied and aroused.

“Hello…” you stutter back, eyes still feasting. “What is the CEO of Bridgerton Enterprises doing taking a bath at….” you glance down to check your watch, “... 5:25 pm on a Thursday?”

“It's a special occasion…” he smirks, wading towards the edge of the tub closest to you. “I thought a bath would be nice.”

You can't seem to look away from the wake of waves cresting his Adonis belt as he does so. The sight of something delicious just below the surface is almost hypnotic.

“My eyes are up here, you know,” he mocks gently, tongue literally in cheek, as you cut your gaze to his triumphant face.

“Wh… what special occasion?” you manage to stumble out.

“Surely you recall what happened on this night exactly twelve months ago?”

When you look nonplussed - frankly, you can barely remember your own name right now - he mock sighs.

“I surprised you on my way back from the airport?” he prompts.

“Oh!” you suddenly cotton on, “it's been a year since we exchanged keys!”

He nods, and a fetching beam breaks out across his face. “Ahhh, the lady remembereth,” he winks.

“So this is how you’re celebrating?” your eyes again drag covetously down his body.

“No, this is how WE are celebrating…” he corrects and gestures towards a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket at one corner of the tub, along with two long-stemmed flutes.

You can't help but match his grin now. “Well, I can’t find fault with that idea,” you admit, taking a step closer until you are at the edge of the tub surround.

“Hmm, I thought not,” he says silkily, closing the gap between you.

Grabbing the back of your neck with a firm hand, he draws you down into a deep, sensual kiss. His mouth claims yours. You shiver as warm water trickles down inside your top from the hand in your hair. He crowds into you, soaking your clothing with the press of his body as you kneel on the sunken tub surround.

“Oh no, this is all wet,” he feigns, tugging lightly at your sleeve, “you will just have to take it off.”

“Hmmm. I rather think that is your doing. How about you take it off?” you challenge, the banter between you never seeming to get old.

“Maybe I’ll just pull you into the water fully clothed?” he posits, raising an eyebrow.

You laugh and take a step back, revelling in his undivided attention as you strip for him, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his expression hungry; the only sounds are his panted breath and the bubbles roiling in the tub. You are down to your underwear, a new matching lacy set, as if you knew, on some subconscious level, it was a special occasion, when he lunges forward and makes you squeal as he effortlessly picks you up and hauls you into the huge tub with him. The warm, effervescent water is a balm and tonic, making your skin tingle.

“What is the point of celebrating anything if it’s not an excuse to get naked?” he offers silkily, cupping your jaw with both palms, his wet thumbs rubbing over your cheekbones, then his lips are back, plundering, seeking, his tongue tangling with yours as his hands roam your skin, arranging so you are straddling his lap, his cock a solid press against your inner thigh.

This is indeed how you always want to celebrate every milestone of your relationship—with wonderful, sensual intimacy. Anthony pulls back from the kiss, and you stare into his rich eyes, blissfully tracing the lines of his face with fingertips as he easily unhooks your bra and pulls it gently over the rounds of your shoulders. This close-up and soaked, his face is all sharp contours and smooth, lightly tanned skin.

“You are too handsome,” your internal monologue spilling out with a light mewl as his thumbs brush your nipples.

“I love you too,” he chuckles drolly to make a point.

“Oh yes, that too,” you append with a playful pout. Then, a more sincere “I love you.”

“Wonderful to hear,” he rumbles into your ear as his hands slide underwater to tug down your underwear.

He pulls you deeper into his lap, your thighs pushed wide around his slender hips. His rigid cock nudges your slit promisingly, and you wait with bated breath for his much-wanted invasion. But he pauses, and you feel the curl of his smile against your cheekbone.

“Champagne?” he teases, holding still.

“Now?!” you splutter. “How about you get inside me first?”

“I thought you'd never ask,” he answers, wry and laconic.

Any witty riposte you may have dies on your lips as he surges into your body, knowing you need no warm-up, ready for him the minute you rounded the corner of the room.

“Happy key day,” he murmurs as your eyes flutter closed and you moan loudly, him nudging that spot that makes you so addicted to him.

“Happy key day,” your response is a ragged exhale as you adjust to his deep invasion.

Every time it still feels like the first, like it's just too good, and you just want to cling to him and be fucked into oblivion or fuck him into oblivion. A potent, heavy feeling inside that makes you crackle with energy and feel sated at the same time.

“Fuck me, Anthony,” you sigh into his wet hair, pushing closer into his embrace, voicing your exact desires.

“With pleasure.”

You squeak as his hands grasp tight around your waist and haul you up until just his tip is still inside you, then slams you back down, a curse falling from your lips as he does. His handling is slightly rough in a way that feels perfect, his teeth glancing your earlobe before he sucks it into his mouth and bites lightly.

Then it's a wondrous carnal dance, your joint noises echoing up the slate tiles as you fuck wantonly. Taking over at one point and gripping the edge of the oversized tub, you ride him for all your worth, chasing that feeling only he, his cock, has ever given you. So addictive ever since that very first night.

“I only ever want to fuck you, always…” the words tumbling from your lips unbidden, no filter between your thoughts and mouth as you spiral higher.

Even in the full throes of passion, his expression softens as you confess it.

“Forever?” something vulnerable in his panted tone as you rise and fall upon him.

“Forever, Anthony Bridgerton,” you vow, sensing his need to hear it, wrapping your arms tightly around his shoulders, pressing all of your being into him, wanting your bodies to be forged together somehow.

His thumb slips between your legs, and you cry out as he snags your clit perfectly, eyes rolling, feeling like a live wire.

“I need to feel it; please give it to me,” he implores desperately, thumb flicking almost violently over your engorged pearl.

It doesn't take much more, and you are fracturing around him. Crying his name, fingernails leaving crescent shapes on his shoulders as you reach that high, unable to stop slamming upon him as you flutter, your whole body spasming in pleasure but unwilling to stop. Him roaring his approval as you squeeze his cock tight, rippling around him.

“Please don't come,” you plead to him, “I need more, Anthony, more,” a wrecked sob, wanting to orgasm again. He snarls, his teeth on your cheekbone, his grip tightening around your hips, staving off his orgasm as best he can.

You grab his face and babble nonsense, saying you need his cock forever, strung out on the edge, almost a mania in your being, needing everything he can give. He pants harshly into your open-mouthed, sloppy kisses as you keep riding wound so tight like a coiled spring, wanting to be speared open by him always.

“Marry me!” he cries as you both reach that peak together, an explosion in both of your beings, feeling him come inside you harsh and deep, moaning your name like a prayer.

You collapse upon him, the bubbles of the jetted tub tickle your skin as you heave breaths, wracked and sated to your very core. A high like you have never known.

“Did you just…. propose?” you stutter as your brain comes back online, his cock still buried inside you.

“Shit…” he laments. “That was NOT how it was supposed to go! I had it all planned out!” he decries, burying his face into your shoulder where you still sit upon him.

“Anthony….” there are no other words, shock tying your tongue.

He pulls back and looks contrite. “Please allow me a do-over?” his face so beseeching.

Raw emotion and victory crest hard in your veins, and you can't help but banter with him - as you always have, as you always will, until death do you part now.

“No, Viscount Bridgerton,” you rag, holding his face, “No do-overs. You will just have to live with the fact you proposed to me as we came together….”

His face is a jumble of warring emotions as you realise you have kept him on tenterhooks about your answer.

“…And you will just have to accept that I said yes with you still inside me,” you add silkily.

A handsome grin claims his whole face, relief and devotion coursing through him. “We can’t tell anyone,” he whispers as you resurface from another kiss.

“Our little secret,” you smile back as he finally slips from your body.

—

“You know I might be the first-ever Viscountess with a garden flat in Zone 3,” you chuckle, sitting in matching fluffy robes on his balcony, the sky a riot of colour as the sun sets.

A few minutes before, he had gotten down on one knee and produced a little velvet box. You squealed and said yes again, watching transfixed as he pushed a flawless, elegant three-carat diamond onto your finger.

Anthony frowns deeply. “Err, no. You are moving in here with me,” he asserts loftily.

“I’m not selling my place!”

“You can rent it out!” he waves dismissively.

“Urgh, tenants. Hassle.” You roll your eyes.

“Okay, fine, then we can just use it to store all of my stuff you hate, alright?” he counters, catching your gaze with a fiery challenge. Your insides ablaze that your trademark flirtatious antagonism will always be there, even once you are married.

“Oh, Viscount Bridgerton, you have a deal…” you whisper coquettish and swing off of your lounger onto his, straddling him and sealing the pact with a kiss.

“I’m just so glad I could finally make it happen.”

You flip around and settle between his legs, your spine on his chest, lacing your hands together over your robe. “What do you mean?”

He barks a laugh you feel echo into your back. “So this is not the first time I have tried to propose to you. Remember that disastrous cooking? Attempt 1. Cheese night when we almost died? Attempt 2. Benedict interruptus? Attempt 3.” He holds up a hand before you, counting each on his fingers. “I almost gave up.”

You laugh and realise with hindsight how he seemed off kilter on those occasions, a soft ache behind your ribs in empathy. “I’m so glad you didn’t. Give up, that is,” you murmur, running your fingers over his lovingly once he lowers his hand back to your belly.

“I jest; I would never give up trying to make you my wife,” he pledges solemnly into your hair, kissing the shell of your ear. “And I hope you will never give up on me, as terrible of a husband as I will likely be….” he demures.

“I can do that, old friend…” you tease, a callback to that first night you got together.

“Less of the old,” he chides, immediately picking up your invitation, an exact repeat of your words to each other that first night you got together, heart melting as you realise he remembers the conversation word for word, too.

“I've known you my whole life, Anthony,” you continue, that conversation etched into your brain, turning back over in his arms. “You can't lie to me…”

“I never will,” he goes offscript, and you exchange laden looks. Then, a dangerous smirk takes over his face as he leans closer. “But you can handcuff me to our bed anytime,” he adds, a nod to the joke you made that night.

“You wish, you lucky fuck,” you respond, aping his line.

He grins widely and pulls back, handing you a champagne flute from the nearby lounger table.

“From old friends to new family…” he toasts, sincere and ardent, clinking his glass softly against yours.

“Friends and family…” you smile, your diamond ring afire in the setting sun, as you take a sip and pull him in for a blistering kiss.

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asumofwords · 7 months

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst, death, mourning, funeral, fluff, smut, daddy kink, breath play, spanking, slapping, fingering, face fucking, degradation, gagging, deep throating, dumbification, edging, creampie, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talking, name calling, rough handling, sadomasochist, sadism, spitting, spitplay, squirt, the correct method of choking, drugs (weed), alcohol, smoking.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Another monstrous chapter sitting at 10+k, because when I said this series was going to only be 15 chapters I meant it hahaha. Goodness, gracious me, here we are. We have come to the end of this series! Thank you so much for all your love and support this whole way through! I hope that you have enjoyed it, and I hope I did the ending some sort of realistic justice. I shall be getting onto my requests now hehehe, anyway, ENJOY! <3

Final Chapter: Stay

Waking that morning, you had not expected to be met with what you were. You had thought that the day would be spent with some awkward, uncertain glances cast Aemond’s way, with the others casting theirs towards you both. Then perhaps you would talk again.

Or fuck.

Or both.

Your little traitorous brain hoped for both.

But no, that's not what you woke up to that morning. You woke up to a nightmare come true. And although all had prepared for it for years, and in fact, the reason why all were back at the Red Keep, it still came as a bombshell that shook the family to its very core.

Viserys was dead.

Gone peacefully in his sleep, found by none other than his doting eldest daughter and wife.

You had woken to the bedroom door shutting, a peak of Criston Cole’s hair in the crack of the door. Helaena stood frozen by it, swaying slightly on her feet before she walked over to the bed and sat down, staring at the far wall.

“Hel?” You sat up, hand coming to touch your best friends shoulder, “What's happened?”

Fear of the unknown settled into your gut.

Her lavender eyes turned to you.

“He’s dead.”

The Keep was in disarray.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were in shambles, having lost a father and brother all in one. It was a most terrible thing to witness. You felt grief yourself for your friends, and for the family as a whole as they moved through the motions of his death, his leaving of their worlds. You felt akin to an invasive species as you sat amongst them, foreign, displaced, unfitting in their neat yet disturbed world.

Lucerys and Jacerys were grieving with their mother and step-father, the twins joining them. As for the other children of Viserys? That was another story.

Amongst the four of them, there was not a single tear shed for their father, bar Aegon in the early light of the morning, stained cheeks hidden in the shadows, red rimmed eyes, and a tiredness that no young man should have at his age, pulling down at his shoulders. But he had swallowed it quickly and quietly as he had for his whole life and went outside to smoke.

You couldn’t however account for Aemond, as he was nowhere to be seen.

Sitting in the gazebo with the three silver haired siblings, you tried to offer condolences, a shoulder to cry on if needed, but all were content to grieve in their own way; Aegon smoking yet another joint, Daeron texting someone animatedly, and Helaena, simply staying quiet and composed beside you.

It wasn’t what you had expected for people to have just lost their father, but you supposed that everyone grieves in their own ways, theirs being much different to your own.

Helaena stood from where she had sat, dressed in all black, something you had not once seen her wear, a stark change to the bright colours that she usually donned. Perhaps this was her way of showing her grief. Her mourning.

Her loss.

“Walk with me.” She said quietly, and you nodded, jumping up as you grasped her hand, letting her lead you down the garden to look at the various plants and trees that were in a part of a gated garden entrance.

Greenery of all sizes, shapes, and colours grew beautifully, small little plaques beneath identifying their scientific name. The Red Keep's garden had some of the rarest of flowers and trees in the whole of the realm. It even had the famed Winter Rose’s from the North in a special greenhouse that kept them in below freezing temperatures.

It was still early in the day, the sun only just rising to its peak as you walked together in silence, your hand in hers as you followed her lead, looking at the shrubs and immense show of wealth. If it weren’t for the reason of your walk, you would have been more animated upon seeing some rare and beautiful orchids, perfectly potted and healthy.

Your steps crunched along the cobblestoned path, twisting around to an extended part of the estate that you hadn’t been to. There, in front of you, was a most beautiful sight to behold.

Ruby red leaves sprouted out of ashen branches, twisting upwards towards the sky.

A Weirwood tree.

And a very old one by the looks of it.

“The Godswood.” Helaena explained to you, taking you closer to it.

You were so entranced by its incredible beauty, thinking of how Cregan's description of his back home didn't do it justice, that you hadn’t even noticed the man that sat amongst its roots, leant back on the trunk.

Aemond Targaryen sat beneath the branches and leaves of a tree that had been a symbol of the Old Gods to his family for hundreds of years. One leg was stretched out in front of him, whilst the other was bent, his long arms crossed over the top of his knee lazily.

He watched you as you came towards him, words caught in your throat.

The light that peaked through the tips of the branches shimmered down on his pale hair, causing it to glimmer with each parting of the leaves from the breeze that rolled through. His face looked flat, emotionless.

Blank.

Helaena’s hand slipped away from yours and you turned to look at her. She gave you a soft smile, before she walked away without a word, leaving you in the small Godswood courtyard with her brother.

You stood for a moment or two, the both of you watching each other before your legs pulled you towards him. You moved to sit beside the long limbed man, pulling your knees up to your chest as you kept your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to make him feel overcrowded, or as if he was being observed. Instead, you hoped that your presence was, at least, the tiniest bit of comfort if he needed it.

You weren’t sure what to do or say as you sat together, both staring off into the distance as the soft rustling of leaves moved overhead. If not for the death that had occurred in the early hours of the morning, the day would have been beautiful.

It was like that for a while, just the both of you. Basking in each others company silently, and yet you felt the need to do more. To say more. To show him more. To show him that you cared, to try and rebuild that bridge that had been torched between the two of you, in the way he had attempted to last night.

You felt guilt knowing that he would have woken up to not only an empty bed, but the news of the death of his father in a Keep he didn’t want to be in, surrounded by people he so desperately tried to avoid.

Tendons and veins pulled beneath the skin of Aemond pale hand as he rubbed a thumb and forefinger together atop his knee.

It was always his hands. Something you had learned rather quickly about him. His hands always moved when in thought, when irritated, lost, or angry.

Any strong emotion caused the man to fidget.

It was a habit that he shared with Helaena, no doubt inherited by their mother.

With no other way to convey what you were feeling, you lifted your hand and placed it atop his. His hand was warm, and twitched beneath yours. Aemond, without wasting a second, flipped his over and held onto yours tightly, threading his fingers through yours atop his knee.

Silence stretched forever until-

“I don’t mourn him.” Aemond’s voice moved with the breeze, soft and quiet, gently carried away from the courtyard, and you felt a pull of sorrow for him deep within your chest.

“We weren’t ever close. Cole was more a father to me than him.” There was a hollowness to his words which you would argue was grief, until he continued, “I don’t grieve the man he was, I grieve the father he could have been to me. The father he should have been to me. Something that I never had.”

Tears prickled in your eyes for him.

Gods.

Why had life been so cruel to this man?

A soft chuckle floated from his lips, a stark difference to his demeanour before, “I used to try so hard to impress him when I was young. Studied, learnt our traditional tongue before any of my other siblings did, and even then, it wasn’t enough for him. I was never enough for him. He was sick, yes,” Frustration bled from his shoulders, tense and closed in, “But he had more time for them than us.”

There was the anger.

Sorrow.

Spite.

Aemond Targaryen had felt he had been in his nephews shadow his whole life.

And it showed.

“It was worse for Aegon. First son and all. A shiny new toy for Viserys before his expectations became too high for Egg and he rebelled. Then nothing he would do could impress the man.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, shuffling across the hard roots of the tree to get closer to him, leaning your shoulder heavily against his, so he could feel your weight, so he could feel the heat of your body. To comfort him, to be there for him, all while not being smothering.

“I’m sorry, Aemond.”

He shook his head, long strand of silver falling over his shoulder as he looked at you, “Don’t be.”

Silence fell over you again, and you watched as a lone red leaf, pointed sides and all, slowly drifted from above the two of you down onto the grassy ground below. It swooped from side to side, spinning gently before soundlessly falling amongst green blades.

You didn’t want him to be alone.

You didn’t want him to feel isolated.

And in your restless, sleepless night, you had thought about him.

“It’s going to be okay.” You whispered, and watched as he turned his head to look back at you, his lone eye searching your face.

Your thumb soothed over his gently, your words having more than one meaning.

His bottom lip was pulled into his mouth by his teeth, and then his voice came up and out from deep within his chest as he gazed at you intensely, clouded eye unmoving, and the sun shining down onto his scarred side of his face.

“Stay.” He asked you for the very first time.

A stark opposite to all the times you had uttered that word to him.

Asked him to stay with you.

It was first time he spoke that four lettered word to you, beneath the crimson leaves of the ancient Godswood in a home that he had grown in.

You heeded his request.

Together, you sat beneath the branches and looked up through them, side by side in a wordless promise to each other.

Stay.

The next few days were a whirlwind. The funeral was held on the grounds of the estate, people from all over flying in to say their goodbyes to the patriarch of House Targaryen.

At first you had asked Helaena if you could go back home, not wanting to intrude on her families grief, but she had insisted, no, begged for you to stay for the funeral.

And so you had.

It was an intense and sad ordeal, but not once did you leave Helaena or Aemond’s side. You stuck by them both, and he always came to you.

Crossing the kitchen to come to you. Crossing the dining table outside to come to you. Crossing the hall to come to Helaena’s room and sit on the bed with the two of you, happy to be just in your presence and not say a thing.

Aegon had silently cried at the funeral. The only child of Alicent to do so. You had watched as fat tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, eyes cast at the coffin of his father, as his mother stood stoically beside him.

Alicent Hightower had cried softly when she had read the eulogy, then followed by Rhaenyra and Daemon's. It was the only time that you felt you would ever see the pair look out of their usual controlled demeanour.

After the funeral, there was the service, where all came to Rhaenyra and Alicent to offer their condolences, the two women standing side by side in all black. At one point, you had watched as Alicent’s pinky reached out, searching for Rhaenyra’s hand. It had curled against the other woman’s, and you watched as the other tilted her head slightly in shock, before she made a larger move, and curled her hand directly around the auburn haired woman’s beside her.

It was days after the funeral before all of you were back together again, side by side.

It had been a long day, longer than the last, and the night had bled into the sky in a deep purple before turning to its deeper shade of blue. Aegon had done rounds, going to each and every room to tell all to meet him down at the pool for some well needed drinks.

Aemond had been sat at Helaena’s vanity watching the two of you sit on the bed and softly giggle at a message Sara had sent her, your silver haired friend more intent on moving forward than looking back.

Hand in Helaena’s, you led her and Aemond down to the pool, not bothering to put swimmers on.

It was dark outside, the usual lights strung about the garden having been turned off, the only source of light coming from the moon, the stars, and the smaller lights that edged around the pools perimeter.

The others were already there, you having seemingly been the last pitstop, passing around popped bottles of champagne, wine and beer. There was the sweet, dank smell of Aegon’s weed again in the air, the short haired man leant back on his elbows as he looked up at the sky, bottle of Moët in one hand.

It was awkward at first, what with Jacaerys and Aemond’s outburst the last time you were all together before the funeral, but before long, and with the help of your trusty liquid courage, all seemed to melt into the numb feeling that the alcohol brought them.

You laid back in one of the armchairs, Helaena, between your legs, head resting on your stomach as you brushed the silver strands away from her face as she looked up at the stars. Aemond watched from beside you, having pulled over one of the other poolside chairs.

The twins, and the brown haired boys were sat at the waters edge with Aegon, their legs dangling into the pool as they swung them softly back and forth, drinking and talking quietly amongst themselves.

Daeron, having disappeared for a moment, came back with his speaker, softly playing music through it to fill the gentle quiet that surrounded you all.

It was soft, calm, and peaceful enough for such a tumultuous time, and as the night got longer, and bottles of alcohol became drained, blunts were passed, and inhibitions were lowered, smiles and laughter were shared amongst all.

Even Aemond.

But that stillness was disturbed when the tipsy, brown haired Lucerys stood and faced everyone, bottle of red wine in hand. The smiles dissipated, and a serious energy floated amongst everyone again.

“I want to make a toast.” The young man said with drunken confidence, thrusting out the wine bottle towards Aegon, “To Viserys.”

Jacaerys lifted his beer towards his younger brother, the twins following suit with their cans of fruity mixer.

Lucerys’ eyes fell on Aemond, before his lips pulled down solemnly, turning away to roam his gaze on everyone else, “He wasn’t a perfect man-”

Aemond quietly scoffed beside you.

“-But if it wasn’t for him, none of us would be here.”

Aegon hummed in agreement, sipping deeply from his almost empty bottle of Moët.

Lucerys’s gaze fell to you as he scratched the back of his neck, “Except you, Y/n. You’d still be here. Well, not here here. But you’d still-“

“-Alright, move it on.” Baela joked lovingly at him as he began to ramble.

Straightening his posture, Luc thrust his wine up to the sky, “To Viserys.”

All lifted their drinks up to toast, bar Aemond, hands bringing wine to their lips, beer to their mouths, or champagne to their tongues. You offered Aemond a small, sad smile, and he returned it, sipping at his beer in thought.

It wasn’t a full toast per-say like the others, but he drank in the mans honour regardless.

A large palm opened up towards you, pale fingers lazily spread in offering. You looked at his long digits, signet ring on one.

“Come here.” Aemond hummed, gentle look in his eye.

Helaena pulled herself from your lap and looked at her brother, “I thought you’d never ask!” She chirped playfully, and he rolled his eye at her.

A small giggle fell from your lips as you looked at his hand again. Still outstretched towards you in front of everyone.

In front of everyone.

Your heart raced in your chest as you stood, placing your hand in his, the warmth of his palm spreading up your arm as you moved over to Aemond, who pulled you between his long legs in a similar way you had done with Helaena. His legs were bent on either side of you with your back against his chest. You felt his chin dip to rest at the top of your head, and a warmth spread through your chest like wildfire.

Helaena smiled at your warmly as Aegon craned his neck backwards to look at the two of you.

“How long has this been going on?” He teased, glassy eyes narrowing on the both of you.

Lucerys, who had sat back down beside his brother after his toast, turned around with Jacaerys to observe. And when their heads turned, the others followed.

Heat rose in your cheeks and you felt a sudden shyness at it all. The urge to hide was strong.

But really, what was this?

You didn’t know.

But it was something.

Something more than before.

But still, you didn’t have an answer, so you moved to respond.

“Oh, we’re n-“

“-A while. I was just a dick about it.” Aemond interrupted you, and your heart soared.

Did he -

Did he just-

Did he just confirm your thoughts?

Did he just validate your feelings?

Answer all your burning questions that had kept you awake at night?

A while.

That implied that this was more.

That this had always been more.

That this was solid.

That this was-

“So that’s why you wouldn’t fuck me.” Aegon pouted, smirk pulling at his lips.

Aemond sighed heavily behind you, “That and the fact that you’re utterly repulsive.”

Aegon’s mouth dropped open as he stared at his brother, “You wound me! I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who haven’t found me repulsive.”

“Too many, if you ask me.” Helaena snickered.

Aegon flicked his joint at his sister, standing straight as he looked down at everyone.

“Good thing I didn't ask you. I’ll have you know I’m polyglamourous.” Hands on his hips.

“Polyamorous.” Daeron corrected his brother.

Aegon grinned, victory in his cheeks, “I meant what I said.”

Aemond’s hand rubbed up and down your thigh soothingly as the night moved on, goosebumps rising on your flesh with each stroke of his long fingers. His chest was warm against your back, and you felt that you could fall asleep from where you were.

Helaena squealed at her phone loudly, breaking you from your fatigued thoughts.

“What is it?” You turned to face her, watching as a large grin pulled at her lips.

“Sara got us tickets to see the Phantom of the Opera!”

“What!”

“Yes!” She shook her phone in her hand whilst she screamed in excitement, “I can’t believe she remembered!”

Aemond chuckled from behind you, chest vibrating against your back, “Of course she'd remember. She’s in love with you.”

Your best friend suddenly became shy, a blush rising on her cheeks rapidly, turning them a bright red that even in the darkness of the night, you could see, “I know that. I just can’t believe it.”

“I’m jealous. Ask her where my ticket is.” You teased, “So I guess this means I’ll be seeing more of Sara again?”

Helaena gave you a knowing smirk, and you gave her one right back.

You were happy for her.

Really happy.

They were perfect for each other. And you always knew that they would get back together again. That and Helaena always told you so, and Helaena was never wrong.

Aegon having come round to where you sat, snatched his sisters bottle of Prosecco, downing the remainder in one gulp, a refreshed and exaggerated gasp filling the air as he ruffled her hair, a growl and swat of a hand coming for his arm which he dodged last second.

Aegon giggled, running around the rim of the pool, shoes kicked in one direction, socks thrown in the other, shirt torn from his back in one yank, and then came his pants. Your eyes widened as Aegon stripped himself nude before jumping into the pool with a yell.

He emerged from the cool water with a flick of his wet hair laughing, sending a hand splashing towards the twins and he smiled, “Come onnnn, live a little! Get in!”

Baela and Rhaena gave each other a shared look before standing, stripping themselves of their clothes before jumping in, hand in hand.

Before you knew it, you were all stripped bare, splashing about in the pool laughing and swimming around.

Even Aemond.

His cheeks were pulled taut by the grin plastered to his face as he swam towards you, tickling your sides as you screamed for backup from Baela and Rhaena, who swam towards you, a flurry of splashes and squeals until his large palms rose above the water and conceded.

Aegon pulled another spliff from the side of the pool and passed it around, and although it was dark, and you couldn’t see the details of anyones bodies, you still felt slightly shy in knowing that not only were you naked, but you were naked with a certain someone pressed up against your back.

At one point, you could have sworn you felt his cock twitch against the cheek of your ass, but you shrugged it off, going to the others as they tossed a ball like piggy in the middle back and forth, little Lucerys in the centre trying to jump up to catch it with all his might.

Eventually the water grew cold, and as you swam to sip at some of Baela’s drink, Aemond slid from behind you, hand wrapping around your waist. Heat spread through you as you felt him press up against you, mouth beside your ear.

“I think it's time for bed, don’t you?” He whispered hoarsely.

You bit your lip turning your head to try and sneak a peak at him, but was interrupted by a loud and obnoxious wolf whistle.

Aegon grinned at you both, “No fucking in mummy’s pool.”

“Ugh, Aegon. What the fuck.” Helaena grimaced.

A laugh exploded from your lips as you turned to look at Aemond, who was chewing the inside of his cheek, desperate to hide the smirk that was rising on his face.

“Come on.” He urged you, tilting his head to outside of the pool.

You climbed out with his help, getting dressed, all the while Aegon continued to whistle at the two of you and make obscene noises. But it was short lived as Helaena pushed Aegon’s head under water with all her weight, Jacaerys and Luc clapping in laughter.

You saw this as your out and grabbed Aemond’s hand, racing him through the Keep in fits of giggles until you reached his room, anticipation strumming in your gut. You watched as he shut the door behind him, turning to face you. His hair was wet, much like yours, and he advanced on you slowly, energy bouncing around inside of you.

“Come here.” He beckoned you with a finger, soft smirk on his lips.

You shook your head at him cheekily, “Nuh uh.”

His head tilted as he looked at you, “Please.”

Your feet carried you towards him, a magnetic pull dragging your chest to his. He smiled warmly down at you, cupping your cheek with one hand as the other dragged a wet strand of hair away from your face.

“Beautiful.” He praised you, before dipping his head down to kiss you.

Aemond bent slightly as your arms wrapped around his neck, large hands wrapping around your thighs as he hoisted you up into his arms, carrying you towards the bed as you didn’t once break the kiss.

It wasn’t hurried like the last time.

It wasn’t frenzied.

This time, you took your time with each other.

Aemond stripped you of your wet clothes and brought you to your peak on his tongue, his name whispered from your mouth like a prayer. He hovered above you as he slid in, watching the way your mouth opened and brows furrowed at the stretch, his lips pressing sweet kisses to the side of your face as he slowly moved through your folds, the tip of his cock rubbing against every point within you.

“So fucking beautiful.” He praised you as you fell apart once again on his cock, walls gripping his length tightly as you keened and whined, hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he smiled sweetly at you.

This was a side of Aemond you hadn’t seen before, and a side you hoped to see more.

He came with a quiet moan of your name, head dipping down into the crux of your neck as he planted kiss after kiss there.

You spent the rest of your night together curled in each others embrace, falling asleep with one word echoing in your mind.

Stay.

Waking up in a dark green and black room was disorientating at first, probably exacerbated by the steady strumming of a slight hangover in the back of your mind. But the warmth of two strong arms wrapped around you, and the familiar scent of Aemond that filled the space between, reminded you of where you were, and who you were with.

Your eyes opened as you looked up at him. His good eye still shut, chest rising and falling slowly.

Everything had happened so fast.

It was as if a match had been lit and set you both ablaze. The two of you burning together hotly, in more ways than one. Your tempers. Your stubbornness, but more importantly, your desire to be with one another.

It was different with him.

Unlike anyone else before.

Passionate.

Fiery.

All encompassing.

And you relished in it.

Relished in the fact that not only was it real, not only tangible, but Aemond had made it open last night as he had pulled you into his lap in front of everyone, and verbally confirmed what had been happening all along.

You weren’t ‘Helaena’s roommate’.

You were more.

You knew that now.

His confession for his love for you however, was something that the two of you would dissect on a later date. But right now? You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way. Didn’t feel the same pull in your heart towards him when he would smile, or laugh, or just look at you. Or how your body would be set alight with even just a touch of his hand.

Aemond Targaryen had you well and truly under his spell.

And there was no other place you’d rather be.

Aemond shifted beside you, eye blinking open sleepily before he looked down at you.

“Morning.” His voice crackled with sleep, mouth opening in a small yawn before he pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Your heart raced in your chest.

“Morning.”

Aemond squeezed you to him tighter as he stretched out the fatigue in his limbs, a whiny grunt escaping his lips.

That was noise you hadn’t heard before.

He sounded content.

Comfortable.

Safe.

But there was still one final thing.

You wanted to be sure that last night wasn’t just a drunken little display, or a declaration emboldened by the grief around the others tainted by possessiveness against Jacaerys.

“What happens now?” You asked quietly, watching as he blinked at you again.

“Whatever happens, happens.” His voice was deep, lulling you into a calm, “But I know I want to be with you.”

Here it was.

“Are you sure?” Your eyes searched his face.

This was it.

His last chance to back out.

His last chance to say no.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You couldn’t contain the grin that creeped on your face, hands pulling him down into a relieved kiss, pouring your adoration and care for him into it as much as you could.

He returned it equally with fever.

Heat ran through you as you pressed yourself closer to him, gasping into his mouth as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. Aemond groaned into the kiss but pulled away.

You looked at him in confusion.

“Come on, we got to have breakfast with the others.”

You whined, plopping back into the pillows with a huff, “I don’t want to.”

Aemond chuckled from beside you, sitting up in the bed as he ripped the sheets away from your body, exposing your naked form. You rolled over onto your stomach, hiding your face in the pillow as you whined.

Two light smacks landed on the cheek of your ass, and you cried out in surprise, “Come on, grumpy.” He teased, “I’ll give you what you want after. But first, we need to eat.”

At the promise of getting what you wanted, you rolled out of bed, begrudgingly, looking at your semi wet pile of clothes in disgust.

You could do a run down the hall to Helaena’s room, but you could also be spotted running nude through the estate, which to you, didn’t seem appropriate considering the funeral held there only a few days past.

Aemond must have noticed your predicament, “Here.” He came over to you, handing you one of his black shirts and those grey sweats you loved so much.

You threw them on, the top coming down to your mid thigh. The pants however, didn’t stay up, and kept sliding down your legs no matter how much you tightened the strings or rolled them at your hips.

Aemond laughed at you as you stepped out of the pants and threw them at him in a huff.

“I need pants.” You whined, searching his room.

“Would prefer it if you didn’t.” He raised a brow at you.

Your core clenched around nothing as you looked at him, his stance challenging you to obey.

So this is the game he wanted to play.

Smirking, you turned to the door, opening it up, “Come on. We will be late.”

You left without looking back, not getting to see the way Aemond’s tongue poked into his cheek, watching you trot out of his room clad in his shirt.

Only his shirt.

The others were seated at the table outside picking at the spread. They all greeted you both as you moved sit down, except Aegon, who’s head was in his arms atop the table as he groaned dramatically and loudly for all to hear.

“Is he alright?” You asked Helaena, watching as she rolled her eyes at her older brothers antics.

“He’s fine. He’s just a drama Queen.”

“Drama King.” He grumbled back.

You ate together for a while before catching Helaena’s attention, it wasn’t something you wished to do, but it was something you had to nonetheless.

You had to go home, and what was more, you had to go back to work.

“Hel, is Criston around today?” You asked, plopping a sweet piece of watermelon into your mouth.

“I think so. Mum’s home today. Why?” Her head leant against her hand as she twirled one of her dragonfly earrings in between her fingers.

“I have to go back to work. I’ve used far too much of your mothers generosity, and uni starts back up next week.”

Helaena sat up straighter, “Holy shit, that’s next week?”

You nodded, “Yep. Not looking forward to Orwyle’s Citadel History class. Man could bore you to tears. I think I’ve actually cried once or twice.” You joked, rolling around a slice of starfruit on your plate before plopping it into your mouth, enjoying the sweet nectar that coated your tongue.

“Are you going to take Rhaenyra’s offer?” Helaena asked, eyes flitting from you and then to Aemond.

“What offer?” Came the grumbling groan of Aegon, his head lifting momentarily to look at you.

If he wasn’t speaking and breathing in front of you, you would have mistaken the man for being dead. Dark rings sat beneath his eyes, and his pale skin had a sallow dullness to it that made him look almost grey.

“Rhaenyra offered her a job at her firm.” Helaena confirmed.

Aegon grunted, dropping his head back into his arms.

“I didn’t know she offered you a job.” Aemond looked at you from the side, brows pulling slightly.

Why did you feel a slight stab guilt in not telling him?

But how could you have?

It had been a whirlwind since she spoke to you.

The offer.

Aemond returning.

Your spat.

Your make up.

Viserys’ death.

It didn’t seem like the right thing to bring up at that time, and if you were being truly honest, you hadn’t even thought of it since his arrival.

“I didn’t have the chance to tell you with everything that’s happened.”

Aemond hummed, and so you continued, turning to face Helaena, “I think so. I need to give it a proper thought when I get home though.”

Helaena nodded at you, “I’ll speak to Cole after breakfast.” She promised, and resumed her eating.

You thanked her with a smile before doing the same.

“You should take it.”

His words came as a surprise.

You placed your fork back onto the plate as you looked at the man at your side. His face was honest and open, there wasn’t a sneer or grimace, or even the straight line that his lips did when he was upset.

He was being genuine.

You brows twitched as you wordlessly urged him to continue.

“My sister, despite everything, is a hard worker. She’ll look after you and make sure you’re taken care of. Besides, her firm is likely more your style anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” You probed casually, trying to hide your real intrigue behind another piece of fruit in your mouth.

“More…” Aemond thought for a second, and then it came with a cheeky smirk, “Woman led.”

Helaena stayed true to her word and had Cole come to take you home, or at least, back to the private runway where that sleek jet picked you up once again.

You said your goodbyes to all, giving everyone a tight squeeze, especially Alicent Hightower, who you thanked for her endless generosity in having you there at such a tough time.

However, you wouldn’t be going home alone. Aemond was coming with you, citing the need to be with you, and the need to get away from a place he hated.

When you moved to say your goodbyes to your best friend, you asked her when she would be back with you, mind wondering when you would need to part ways with Aemond's presence.

“I’m going to stay here for the next month." She told you, "I’ve already emailed uni.”

“The next month?” You felt sadness in your chest. Another month without your best friend.

You were going to miss her.

“Yeah,” She kicked at the gravel at her feet, “Mum needs me here for the solicitors and the Will and Testimony reading.”

“Oh? Are you going to be okay?”

Helaena pulled you in for a hug and whispered into your ear, “I’m going to be taken away in a straight jacket by the end of this.” Before pulling back to smile again, cheekier this time, “Besides, I’m sure Aemond will keep you company.”

His smooth voice came from beside you, “I have no plans on leaving.”

The flight home was quick with his company, and on more than one occasion, you had to swat his hands away from you as he whispered the chance of joining the mile high club in his mothers jet.

It felt good to be home as you stepped through the front door, dropping your keys in the empty bowl, followed by the sound of Aemond dropping his in beside it.

It made you smile, the familiar scent of your apartment, the soft glow of light, it's tidiness perfect for your arrival home. You turned back, grin tugging on your lips to look at the man behind you, only to see him looking at you hungrily.

You continued forward, butterflied erupting in your stomach as you felt the warmth of his gaze behind you. You dropped your bags in the lounge room and stretched your arms up high, the day dress you were wearing sliding up your thighs.

Aemond watched you with a hooded eye, and the heat you had felt that morning came back tenfold.

And then you remembered.

“You didn’t make do on your promise.” You smirked.

Aemond raised a brow at you as he dropped his bags next to yours, hands flexing at his side, urging you to elaborate.

“You said you’d give me what I want after breakfast." You purred, "It’s past lunch.”

The silver haired man’s lip twitched as he looked at you, tongue in cheek, “Look whose gotten all bratty the moment we get home.”

Home.

The word sent heat straight to your core.

“Not my fault you're a liar.” You teased back, feeling confident to push him now that you knew where you stood. Now that you were home, away from his family, away from it all. It was now just the two of you.

You and him.

“A liar?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did I say when I would?”

You brows furrowed, “After breakfast.”

“And is lunch not after breakfast?”

Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Dick.”

Aemond’s demeanour changed entirely, posture straightening which gave him an extra inch of height. He looked down his nose at you as he watched you take a smirking step back, “Come here.”

You had to push down the flurry of excitement that almost unleashed a giggle into the room, “Make me.”

Your chest rose and fell sharply as you watched Aemond take a slow step towards you, and then another.

“Last chance, baby. Come here.”

"No."

Spinning on your heel you ran towards your room, Aemond's boots beating on the floorboards behind you coming closer. Hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you up, squeal erupting from your chest as you tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“That was very naughty of you.” His voice whispered hoarsely at your ear from behind, hot breath fanning down your neck.

You stifled a whimper as his fingers dug into your skin before he threw you down onto the bed, face first. Your hands flew outwards, catching yourself as your hips hit the end of the bed. Aemond was on you in an instant, pawing at your dress as he ripped it off of you.

“This what you want, huh? Want me to put you in your place? Little brat.”

Your hands moved behind you to tried to slap his arms as he yanked your panties down your legs in one long swoop. Aemond tutted from behind you as he kicked your legs apart, your lip caught in your teeth as you tried not to whimper.

“Look at you. Already soaked. Such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

His hand cast down onto the flesh of your ass and you cried out, back arching as the delicious sting spread through your skin. He pulled your cheeks apart roughly and spat onto your dripping entrance.

“Filthy little fuck hole.” Aemond growled, and you mewled as you felt his spit run between your thighs and drip down onto the floor below.

His fingers smeared his spit into your folds, parting them easily as he looked down at you and cooed, your head craning back to watch him as he chuckled darkly, “What am I going to do with you, hm? You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy, baby?”

Your legs tried to shut so that you could apply pressure with the squeezing of your thighs, but Aemond's legs were in the way, preventing you from getting any release of the tingling that spread through your aching centre.

“Please.” You murmured, pouting at him the best you could in the hopes that it would entice him to take you right then and there.

Another chuckle rumbled in his chest as he let one long finger circle around your entrance, the tip of it just barely pushing inside before it came back out again, teasing you.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” He hummed.

“Please, Aemond.”

“Not my name, sweetheart.”

A shiver ran down your spine, your eyes sliding shut, “Please daddy.”

The warmth from his body disappeared as he stepped back, your eyes opening to find him looking down at you with a stern face. Your heart raced in your chest, his height towering over you, dominance dripping from his every fibre of his being.

“Kneel.”

Gods be good.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, his hands coming to undo his belt buckle slowly, watching as you didn’t move. He pulled the belt slowly from the loops, to soft flipp loud in the room. The belt dropped to the floor with a thud.

“I said,” Aemond moved quicker than you could react, grabbing a fist full of your hair and dragging you off of the bed onto your knees, “Kneel.”

The wooden floor bit into the skin on your knees sharply, but it was dull in comparison to the sheer desire to be ravaged by the man in front of you.

Long fingers slowly dragged down the zipper of his pants, opening it with languid movements as he kept his eye completely and utterly upon your face.

“Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You watched as he pulled his hard length from his briefs, running his fist from base to top slowly, the tip leaking a drop of precum that he smeared down his shaft.

Aemond hummed, “What? Can’t talk now?”

You shook your head defiantly as he took a step closer, “I’m going to ask you one last time,” His voice grew deeper, darker, and it added to the slick that was settling in the crux of your thighs, “Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You shook your head.

No.

Liar.

Aemond clicked his tongue at you in disappointment before sighing loudly, “Thought you’d say that. I’ve got a better use for that mouth of yours.” One hand in your hair, he tugged you forward, “Open.”

You don’t know what it was about this man, or what he did to you to make you the way you were with him. The way he absolutely ruined every inch of your mind and thoughts, the urge to both please him and defy him coursing through you all at once, but you wouldn’t give in. No, you needed him to react, you needed him to take what he wanted from you with force.

So biting the insides of your cheeks to keep you from smiling, you defiantly kept your mouth shut as you looked up at him from your knees.

The corner of his lip twitched as he hummed at you.

The sting across your cheek came quickly and stunned you enough to open your mouth in a gasp, exactly as he had planned when he slapped you. He grabbed your jaw with the entirety of his hand and squeezed at the joint meanly, mouth falling open further in pain.

Aemond slid his cock straight into your open lips, his heady weight sitting upon your tongue as he looked down at you, still holding the base with one hand, your jaw in the other.

“There you go. Far more useful with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted, pulling out slowly as you curled your tongue upwards, running it along the underside of his shaft, pressing into the long vein that travelled along it.

Aemond began to thrust into the back of your throat, letting go of the base so that the whole length of him would slide into your mouth. His cock was salty on your tongue, hot, swollen, and heavy in your mouth as he forced you to take him as deep as it would go.

You gagged on his length, eyes watering as you shut them tightly.

Two little slaps on your cheek made your eyes open back up, staring at him as he looked down at you, “Eyes on me while I fuck this pretty little mouth of yours.”

You moaned around his length, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the tension that was building between them. But it was fruitless. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed, and what you needed was his fingers, his tongue, or his cock inside of you.

The silver haired man thrusted into your mouth the way he would into your cunt, deep, long and hard, his tip beating against the back of your throat as he used you for his own pleasure.

It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and exactly what you had wanted.

You wanted him to use you like this, to get it all out, to get out all the tension that had been hovering over him the minute he stepped into the Keep.

He needed this just as much as you did.

A thick line of saliva ran down your chin, dripping onto your thighs below as both hands wrapped around the sides and back of your skull, dragging your head up and down his length roughly. His brow was furrowed as he watched, mouth agape as he breathed shallowly and grunted.

“Look at you," He cooed down at you, "Just a hole for me to fuck. Just a little slut begging for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”

You hummed around his length, sucking your cheeks inwards as much as you could. Aemond hissed at the pressure, eye sliding shut momentarily as his hips stuttered.

It was a glorious sight.

You below him, looking up as his head was thrown back, ecstasy breaking out on his features as his pearly hair cascaded around his shoulders.

Your head was pulled away, length slipping from your lips as you gasped for air, a line of spit connecting you to his tip as he cooed at you.

“Open.”

You opened your mouth wider, tongue poking out for him. His cheeks hollowed and then Aemond spat onto your tongue, its warmth spreading from your mouth, all the way through your body.

You moved to shut your mouth to swallow for him like you thought he wanted, but he stopped you with a finger, pressing down on your tongue as he smeared his spit along the wet, pink muscle messily.

With little care, two fingers slid down to the back of your throat as he looked at you, your mouth still open waiting for a command. Aemond slowly fucked your throat with his fingers, grinning at the small gags that he elicited from the action, before pulling his fingers from your mouth, smearing his spit and yours across your face, the wetness sticking to your heated cheeks.

“Such a messy girl. So dirty.” He purred, lining his cock back up to your mouth which you took with ease, except this time, Aemond didn’t fuck your throat.

He slid his length all the way down your throat, cock pressing into your gag reflex and blocking off your air. Your nose met his pelvis as he looked down at you, shaking your head slightly side to side on his length.

“Hold it.” He growled, watching as a tear ran down your cheek as you tried to not cough or splutter on his length, chest heaving as you gagged, no air being able to pass through your nose.

Your head grew dizzy as you looked at him, lungs beginning to burn, but still he didn’t let you pull back. Holding you down onto him by the back of your head.

Your hands flew to his thighs for grip as you tried to pull away, but Aemond kept his cock nestled deeply in your throat.

“You can do it, pretty girl." He told you, "Five more seconds.”

Another tear slid down your cheek, the weight of him in your throat making your core flutter around nothing.

“Five.” He began to count down, watching as you squirmed below him.

“Four.” Your nails dug into his flesh harshly as you tried to keep on him, throat swallowing around him tightly in reflex, causing a shiver to roll through his body.

“Three.”

“Two.” He grunted, pulling you down harder on his length causing more tears to fall from your eyes.

“One.”

Aemond pulled you off his length, your lungs burning as you gasped in a lungful of air, spluttering and coughing at his feet.

“Good girl.” He praised, wiping the tears from your cheeks that had left wet tracks down your face.

You coughed softly, throat aching and head spinning, feeling embarrassed and aroused all in one. The head rush from lack of air was almost as intense as the head rush you got from your desire.

“Open.”

You licked your lips and swallowed doing as you were told, feeling Aemond slide his cock slowly into the back of your throat again, but this time, you inhaled a large lungful of air in preparation. He pulled your head down all the way, nose nestled into the hair at his base as he looked down at you.

“Good girl, baby. Look at you.” You moaned around his length, feeling tears in your eyes again as he nudged your gag reflex.

“Hold it.” His voice cracked, watching a tear slide down your cheek as he brushed hair away from your forehead gently, “You're going to hold it for ten this time.”

Ten.

Oh shit.

You didn't know if you could.

But you wanted to please him.

You wanted to be good for him.

“Ten.” Aemond began to count down again, pushing his hips slightly forward, making his cock go even deeper than you thought it could, throat bulging slightly from his length, your eyes widening as you squirmed below.

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven.” Your core clenched as he counted, watching through blurry eyes as he looked at you on your knees before him.

“S-ix.” He moaned, eye sliding shut as he felt your throat closing around him as your body tried to swallow the blockage that was his cock.

“Five.”

The room spun slightly and you began to shift below him, brain controlling you as it tried to pull you away to get air into your lungs instinctually.

“Four." Heat rose in your cheeks as you squirmed, head trying to move backwards from his grip.

"Stay still." He growled down at you. Despite his command, you still wriggled, slick sliding between your thighs as it began to drip down onto the floor below.

“Almost there, baby. Three.”

Your arms tried to push yourself back, pure instinct taking over, your hands on his thighs, vision in the corner of your eyes going dark.

Was he purposely counting slow?

Oh Gods.

He was.

“Two.”

You were almost there. Your fingers fisted against his thighs, and despite his face being blurred by your tears above, you couldn’t help but notice the sadistic smile that pulled at his sharp lips.

“Two and three quarters.”

Dick.

Your eyes narrowed at him, causing the man to chuckle.

“One.”

You ripped yourself away with a gasp, falling backwards onto your bum as you coughed and spluttered, drool hanging from your lips as you tried to steady your breathing.

Aemond knelt in front of you, swiping up the spit on your chin, “Good girl. Such a good girl for me - You did so well.” You keened at his praise, leaning into his hand.

Aemond helped you to stand, pulling you over onto the bed as he stripped himself bare, watching as you still fought to catch your breath, devouring him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.

“Let's see how wet you are from me using your mouth like that, hm?”

You parted your legs on instinct, giving him view of your glistening folds.

Aemond inhaled sharply, “Look how fucking wet you are. You're dripping all over the bed.”

You nodded your head dumbly, brain feeling light as a feather. You didn’t know if it was from the lack of previous airflow, or if it was the way he was treating you, slowly sinking you down into the comfortable little space you loved to float in with him.

“Are you all dumb, baby?” He meanly cooed at you with a sadistic pout, stroking the hair atop your head.

You nodded again as he chuckled at you, running his fingers through your slick folds, the sound of him parting them obscenely wet.

“Just from being daddy’s little fuck hole?”

You moaned, pushing your centre into his hand as he swirled a digit around your swollen clit, sparks of pleasure flying up inside of you. His finger dipped inside of you, immediately crooking upwards into the spot you needed it most.

“Look at this needy little pussy sucking me in. Do you need daddy to help you?”

You moaned at him, thrusting your hips downwards onto his hand as he added another finger, beginning to fuck them inside of you.

“Use your words.”

It took whatever remaining braincell that was left inside your head to string together one measly word, “Please.”

Aemond smirked, “Please what, little dummy.”

You whined, shutting your eyes as heat flooded your cheeks.

“Come on. Use your big girl words or you won’t get anything.”

“Please, daddy. P-please fuck me.”

Aemond smiled victoriously, kissing a tear that was drying against your cheek, “There we go. That must have been real hard when you're all dumb, wasn’t it?

You whined at his teasing, and then again when he removed his fingers.

“Shh.” He hushed you, “Daddy’s going to give you just what you need.”

And he did.

Aemond slid into you immediately, aided by how wet and open you were for him. He sighed into the crook of your neck, your legs immediately wrapping around him as he began to fuck into you, slowly building up the pace.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, his hips snapping into your own as pleasure bloomed within. You moaned and cried beneath him, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen bud with each deep and rough thrust he gave you.

“You gonna cum already? I can feel you gripping me.” He huffed, watching his length disappear into your folds.

“Please.” You wailed, hands gripping the sheets beside you tightly in your fists as you begged him with your eyes.

Aemond took pity on you and slid a hand down to your pearl, rolling it in time with his thrusts, “Come on then. Cum on my cock.”

It took four sharp thrusts before your eyes screwed shut, stars appearing behind them as you came with an earth shattering cry. Aemond fucked you through it, hips and hand not once still until you were a sobbing and slick mess beneath him.

“Fucked the brat right out of you, didn’t I? Pretty little baby.” He moaned, rutting into your centre as the sound of your arousal surrounded you, the hair at the base of his cock soaked with your release, “Just needed me to fuck you stupid, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t form any words, mouth hanging open as little whines and pants flittered off of your tongue. It was overwhelming, and the pleasure of your first peak was yet to settle, bliss sizzling and burning within your gut in a way that continued to mount as he kept rubbing your pearl.

It was almost painful.

“Give me another.” Aemond grunted, pressing his fingers against you again harder, watching as you tried to shift your hips and escape his circling digits.

But it was no use, and Aemond ripped yet another peak from you with precision, your head lulling to the side tiredly as your body was thrust up the bed with his hips. You laid limply beneath him as he continued to fuck you, lip pulled into your mouth by your teeth as you whimpered.

“Fuck.” He gritted out through his teeth, hand releasing your clit out of mercy as he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, fucking into you harder and faster than before, beating the air from your lungs with each thrust.

“Gonna fill up this little pussy.” He moaned, watching as your brows pulled together, walls fluttering around his length.

“You want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want me to fill you up?”

You nodded your head, tear leaking from the corner of your eye as he continued to rut into you rapidly, hands leaving your hips to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides to prevent the blood flow to your head whilst allowing for air, amplifying your pleasure and making you float even further.

“Gonna cum in your cunt.” He moaned, using the grip on your neck to pull your weight down onto his cock, spearing you open with each thrust.

It was too much.

It was-

Oh Gods-

You were-

Your brain went blank as ecstasy shot through it, scrambling any thought that you had. You heard his cry as he came deep within you, his warmth filling you up, but there was a second wetness that you noticed, that soaked the sheets below you.

It took a while to come back down to yourself, held in Aemond’s arms as he brushed gentle hands over you, holding you to him. You felt warm, safe, and completely and utterly exhausted. You shifted to look up at him, watching as his eye opened to look down at you.

“Back on earth?” He asked softly, watching as you weakly smiled at him, nuzzling into his bare chest. His chuckle vibrated against your cheek.

“Come on, we got to get you cleaned up.”

You buried your head deeper into his chest, “Don’wanna.”

Lips pressed at the top of your head, “Come on. I need to change the sheets.”

This caught your attention.

Had you gotten your period?

Were you sweatier than you had thought?

You lifted your head to look at him, to which he gave you a smug little smile.

“You made quite the mess.”

You frowned, embarrassment creeping into your chest.

“Nothing bad.” He reassured you, kissing your forehead, “You ever squirted before?”

Squirted?

“As much as I love watching your mind turn and work, I’m lying in your wet patch.” He chuckled, shifting to lift you out of the bed.

Low and behold, there it was.

A large wet patch below Aemond that spread out against your sheets, proof of your pleasure and the peaks that Aemond took you too. And despite having no shame, and being roughly and thoroughly fucked not too long ago, heat still flooded your cheeks at the sight.

After lazing in bed for only an allowed moment more, Aemond helped you to the shower, your legs weak like jelly as he washed you and brushed your hair, taking off your makeup with gentle steady hands that made your heart flutter in your chest.

Ever the gentleman, he popped you on the couch as he changed your sheets, remaking your bed before he put on the load of washing. It was entirely domestic, and watching him as he moved, as he doted. on you, as he fluttered around your space which had irrevocably also became his, it only seemed to make the little part of him that had burrowed into your chest go deeper.

You ordered in that evening, getting pizza in a strange reminder of what it had been like when he first moved in. The same pizza order, the same pizza place, the same two spots on the couch as you ate.

The two of you had come a long way since then. A very long way, and in many ways, coming to a place that you would not have thought possible or even to have thought to cross your mind.

You watched his favourite movie in comfortable silence after eating your dinner, before suddenly you remembered something. You jumped up from your spot, hissing slightly at the soreness between your thighs as you ran to retrieve two spoons from the drawer, then opening the freezer door to dig around inside.

Ah.

There it was.

The forgotten tub of ice cream you had carelessly thrown inside when a certain person was in your home.

You held it triumphantly as you walked back to the couch, holding it as you would a prized jewel on show for him. Aemond chuckled at your antics as you pulled the lid clean off, offering him a spoon.

“The first dip, My Lord.” You joked, bowing your head to him.

Aemond huffed a laugh, the pressure of him digging into the tub with his spoon pushed into your wrist.

“Ñuha Riña.”

The accent sent a pulse straight to your core.

Down girl.

You dipped your spoon in after him, lifting it to your lips, “What does that mean?”

“My Lady." Aemond hummed, returning his attention back to the tv.

You savoured the ice cream, the tub becoming half full in no time as you slowly but surely demolished it together. It felt good to be at his side, to know where you both stood. To know what you both wanted, and for it to not be a secret anymore.

But you still couldn't get your mind to stop thinking about the way his tongue had rolled when speaking High Valyrian.

“Aemond?” You turned your head to look at his profile, watching as his tongue darted out to lick at his spoon.

“Hm?”

“Will you teach me?”

His brows furrowed, “Teach you what?”

“High Valyrian.” You asked him shyly, suddenly feeling like perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him that at all. Maybe he wouldn't want to teach you that. Maybe it was a family thing only.

Was that weird of you to ask?

Would it be a reminder of the tension back at home?

A reminder of his father?

Your swirling thoughts of doubt were cut short as a soft smile spread across his shape cheeks.

“Hen rhinka.” Of course.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you, ñuha jorrāelagon.”

My love.

That night you slept in each others embrace, fresh and warm sheets on the bed, surrounded by his scent. It was no wonder that you drifted off to sleep so easily after the romp you had had earlier, not to mention how tumultuous the days before had been.

Yet when you woke the next morning, you felt refreshed, ready for a new start.

A new day.

A new beginning.

With him.

Aemond wasn’t in bed with you, but rather than feeling any sort of panic or anxiety about his absence, you crawled out of bed and went to where you knew he would be.

Standing tall, leant against the bench, Aemond sleepily sipped from his coffee in the kitchen as he blew the smoke from his cigarette through the open window. He was clad in only black shorts, his silver hair messy and tangled, and the press of his pillow embedded in his cheek.

Hearing your approach, he turned to you and smiled.

Your stomach did flips.

“Morning.”

The familiar sound of porcelain on the bench scraped in your ear.

There, at the base of his fingers, was your steaming mug of tea.

You took it gratefully from him with a smile before sidling up to his side, leaning your head against his chest as he wrapped one arm around your shoulders pulling you closer.

“What do you want to do today?” You looked up at him, watching as he smiled down at you.

“Anything you want.”

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dollfacefantasy · 6 days

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From the Day You Arrived

pairing: suguru geto x fem!reader

summary: the night in the village was the first time suguru saw you. you'd haunted him ever since. when he meets you again, he's not going to let you slip away. you will be his.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dub-con, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spanking, manipulation, pet names (pet, puppy, pup), reader put in a collar, yandere-ish behavior (obsession/controlling), breeding kink

word count: 5.4k

a/n: birthday present for @kaitkatme. one of the sweetest people in the whole world, someone i love so so much. she makes me happy every day. i'm so lucky to call her my friend <3

It was that night in the village. With the 112 people. With the fire. That was the night he first saw you.

You’d been caught amongst the carnage of that night. You should have been just another face in the slaughter, another light he’d snuff out. But when he came across you in the midst of everything, he froze. Two sets of eyes gazing into one another, completely still as everything surrounding continued in disarray.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. He didn’t know if it was the terror in your stare, the horror in the downward curve of your lips. You made him freeze though. Long enough for you to dart out the back door and run as fast as your limbs could carry you.

The smallest moment in time. One he thought would be the only minute shared between the two of you.

That was until he saw you all those years later.

You’d changed but so had he. Both of you sported new styles of clothing, different hairdos, your faces had aged. When your eyes locked in the middle of that busy street though, it was like the two of you morphed into yourselves from all those years ago and nothing had changed. He couldn’t explain the connection. All he knew was that he wouldn’t let it slip away this time.

He went over to you, introduced himself, and this time, it was you who froze. Instantly, it was obvious you recognized him. He thought seeing the man who massacred everyone you’d known would’ve sent you running, just like you had on that night. But you didn’t move a muscle. As if your legs were locked in place, you didn’t move an inch upon hearing his voice. You ended up responding, and finally, he learned the name of the girl who’d walked through both his dreams and nightmares for years on end. In that moment, he wondered if he’d meant the same to you.

He took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gesture caught you off guard. He reveled in the slight widening of your eyes. It was obvious you didn’t think him capable of such tenderness. He knew with little effort, you’d be his.

You were still a non-sorcerer, but that was part of what had him captivated. He couldn’t understand how he managed to become so enamored with someone he considered to be objectively beneath him. It was something that haunted him, something he had to find out the cause of. All he knew was that you weren’t going to get away this time.

He lured you back to his place with promises of an explanation, answering the questions that had plagued you all this time. Only when you got there, it was you doing the majority of the talking. He discovered that in contrast to himself, your life had fallen apart after that night. It spiraled so far out of control, you had no hope left for wrangling it back. He supposed it made sense. Losing your entire family and all of your friends would do that to a person. He listened with a sympathetic ear, fingers sweeping down your jaw soothingly as his eyes grew soft with feigned concern.

“Oh, little one,” he cooed, “How could I ever begin to make it up to you?”

As if he had anything to make up for. If anything, this arrangement he had in mind would be you making it up to him for making him question so much. An apology for bothering him with your mere existence.

You were resistant at first. You’d seen first hand the kind of violence this man was capable of. You turned down his offers, made up excuses about why you should be leaving now. He wouldn’t have it though.

“I don’t think you understand,” he’d told you, rising to his feet, “You’re special. You were meant for more than what’s been given to you, more than what you had in that village and more than what you have now.”

You watched him with widening eyes, uncertain of his point. You knew you should’ve been reacting with more intensity, kicking, screaming, hitting, crying, anything. But it was as if something possessed you to stay. To listen.

“There’s a reason you made it out of that night when no one else did. Something stopped me when I saw you. And something brought us back together. I’m not even sure what it is myself, but that’s why you’re going to stay here,” he said, “I’m not letting you slip away again.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a statement of fact. You still shook your head in protest, but he nodded right back at you.

“Tell me honestly, what do you have to go back to?” he asked, “You feel it too. I know you do. You think you’re supposed to hate me, right? But you don’t.”

“You took everything from me,” you protested weakly.

He chuckled at first but kept his eyes serious and locked on you. “Sure I did. But that was a long time ago and not the point. The point is that you’re sitting here like a good girl and listening because deep down, you also want to know what this thing is that connects us. You don’t want to leave. You could’ve tried running by now. You wouldn’t get far, but you could have tried. You haven’t though because you want this just the same as I do.”

“No I don’t,” you said, your tone still not matching the firm nature of your words.

“That’s just too bad because you’re staying here regardless,” he’d told you with a shrug, “Like I said, you can try to run, but I’ll have you back here in the blink of an eye.”

You contemplated trying to get away at first, but as your eyes scanned the room, many factors became clear to you that would be detrimental to your escape. First, you didn't know this place well. Second, you clearly weren’t alone. You could hear other people just outside the room, and you were sure they’d follow Suguru’s word over yours without even a second thought. Also, you could still vividly remember how he treated your people from the village, and you didn’t want to invite a recreation.

Reluctantly, you accept staying with him, and as a reward, he didn’t make you wear restraints.

***

Your new life actually wasn't horrible. The other people who hung around Suguru’s place weren’t all that bad and could be nice to you sometimes. He kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t sneak off or get too close to anyone else, but from what he could tell you didn’t. You spent most of your time around him although he did allow you your own room to sleep in.

Unexpected to you, however, was that you actually didn’t mind spending time with him too much. It wasn’t like he was your best friend, but you didn’t despair being around him. You were pretty quiet for the most part, but he worked to figure you out anyways.

In a way, you compartmentalized him into two. After nearly a year with him, there were two Sugurus in your mind. There was the version of him from years ago who’d destroyed everything you’d ever known, and there was the current version that petted your head and spoke to you as if you were the most exquisite flower just beginning to bloom.

You knew you should hate him. The man ruined your life, and you followed him around and slept under his roof. This was disgraceful, wasn’t it? The lack of fight you put up was embarrassing.

Thoughts like those bothered you daily. The second you’d find yourself smiling at him or engaging him in a conversation on your own freewill, shame took you over. Those feelings led to your first and only attempt at escape.

You tried it when you thought he was busy. Slipping out through the backdoor, you ran away just like you had when you first met. You didn’t know where you were going, but this was what you were supposed to do. This is what anyone would expect of someone in your situation.

But he held true to his promise. You were back within the hour.

You weren’t sure how he knew, if he sensed it, if someone saw you and told him, if you’d tripped some sort of alarm. He followed you though and retrieved you with no effort.

You returned to the place you’d been staying for the last several months. You didn’t even know what to call it. His compound? Sometimes it felt more like his palace. Whatever it was, you were back, and he was pissed. Angrier than you’d ever seen him. That night in the village, he didn’t look angry. He went about his slaughter as if it was just something he had to do. But right now, sitting in the bedroom he’d given you, he looked at you with fire in his eyes.

“What do you think you were doing?” he asks, his voice ice cold.

You look up at him like a puppy who’d been caught breaking a rule. “I wanted to leave. You never told me I could never leave…” you argue.

“Then why did you sneak out the back?” he asks. Upon receiving no response from you, he continues, “Because you knew you weren’t supposed to.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!” you say with the most force he’d heard from you, “We’re not connected or whatever. You took away my whole life. I can’t just forget that.”

He glares at you. “Come here,” he says simply.

The words chill you to your bones. You walk over to him and stand between his thighs. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “I never asked you to forget what happened, did I? No. I didn’t. I’ve never said I’m sorry because I’m not. What I did brought you to me.”

He pulls you face down over his lap and continues with his speech. “You are supposed to be here. I am supposed to have you whether you understand that or not. Your place is here. You belong to me,” he says.

With that, he brings his palm down hard against your ass. You yelp with surprise. It was almost comical, your punishment being a simple spanking from a man capable of mass murder.

“Hush. I don’t want to hear it. I’m growing tired of your resistant act because that’s all it is. An act,” he says, pushing up your skirt and raining down lashes on your uncovered cheeks.

“It’s not. I hate you for what you did,” you whimper.

“No. You hate what I did, but you don’t hate me,” he says.

You don’t respond to that one. It was probably the truth, but you wouldn’t admit that so easily. You continue whining as he spanks you, painting your ass with bruises.

“I mean, how could you? I’m the only one who’s ever shown you real attention, real care,” he says, “You’ve never been anyone’s favorite, anyone’s choice. But you’re mine. You think just anyone would go to such lengths to keep you?”

The words sting worse than the slaps. Tears begin to brim your eyes as barbs form in your throat. “That’s not true,” you say, “Everyone who cared about me is dead because of you.”

“It is the truth. Sure, those people may have cared about you but not like I do. You’re part of my very being, a piece of my existence, and I treat you as such. Your life is so much better here than it ever was, yet you repay me by trying to leave?” he lectures.

You don’t respond again. It was hard to think of an argument as your emotions swell within you and your ass burns. More small whimpers escape you, and you squirm on his lap. He smacks you harder in response and gets a tight grip on your hips.

“And nothing to say for yourself?” he taunts, “I’ve been treating you like the little angel I believed you to be, but now I see I need to handle you as you actually are. An ungrateful brat.”

As a mark of punctuation, he lands the hardest smack yet. You cry out, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle weakly.

“No you’re not. You’re sorry you were caught. You’re sorry you’re in trouble. But you aren’t sorry for what you did,” he chides. He spanks you a few more times before stopping.

He wipes the tears from your cheeks and lifts you off his lap, putting you down on your bed. He stands from the bed and heads towards the door.

“Compose yourself before dinner. I don’t want to hear anymore of your whining for the rest of the day,” he says, “And get used to this room. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of it for the next few weeks.”

Then he left.

You didn’t see him until dinner like he said, and even then he was cold and distant. He wasn’t the version of himself that you enjoyed being around. The two of you eat in silence before he dismisses you to your bedroom without so much as saying goodnight. And things continued on like that for weeks.

He knew how to play you like the delicate instrument you were. He knew he wouldn’t need to spank you again, wouldn’t have to chain you up or starve you. All he’d have to do in order to get you on his side was take away his affection. He wouldn’t be nice to you anymore. That simple.

He wouldn’t stroke your cheek or call you sweet names, wouldn’t joke with you at dinner or come to your room to say good night specially to you. You’d be treated like everyone else, and he knew you wouldn’t stand for it.

Being in your room all day for weeks was bad enough, but that part was worse. It sounds simple, like something that should be easy to resist. It drove you crazy though. You hadn’t realized how much his treatment had meant to you. You’d craved being treasured for so long, and he’d given you a taste of it.

You crack one night at the end of your punishment. For the first time in weeks, you could roam the grounds freely. But with him practically ignoring you, it didn’t feel like a reprieve. At the end of the day, you go to his room and knock on the door. Already teary eyed, you walk inside when he permits you. Standing in front of him, you look up. Your lip quivers as the words “I’m sorry” spill out.

He can’t suppress his knowing smile.

“For what?” he asks, playing clueless.

“For trying to run away. And for arguing. And for whatever else you're mad at me for,” you say.

“That doesn’t sound very sincere,” he teases, “Sounds like you’re throwing darts at a board, just trying to hit the right spot.”

“No, I’m serious. I am sorry. I just really don’t want you to be mad. Please. I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I want us to be connected again,” you say.

And that was all he needed to hear.

“Well come here then,” he says and pats his lap.

You do so without any hesitation, curling up to him as if you’d done it hundreds of times before.

“My sweet puppy wants to be good again, hm?” he asks softly as he rubs your back.

“Yes,” you whimper. You wrap your arms around him as if trying to meld the two of you together.

He already knew what your answer would be. His precious little pet. Over the course of your time with him, that’s what he’d decided. You weren’t just something elusive that captivated him for a moment. You were the pinnacle of your kind, the closest to divine a non-sorcerer would ever come to be. You were born to be his. Put on this earth as a sweet thing for him to dote on while he continued with his mission.

“Good girl,” he says. He gently kisses the top of your head. “How about tonight you sleep in my bed? Would that make you feel better?”

Surprising even yourself, you nod. The desire to be back in his good graces, basking in his affection again, dominated your thought process. He scoots back on the mattress and pulls you with him, tucking you against his side under the plush blankets.

“You just need some attention. Little puppies like you can’t handle being ignored for too long,” he murmurs.

You nod in agreement, getting comfortable. That was the fastest you’d fallen asleep in years.

For the next month, you truly fell into the role of his pet. You followed him everywhere, holding his hand and watching him with adoring eyes. But the moment he made it official came one night after dinner. You sat across the table from him as usual, eating quietly and occasionally nodding along to whatever he happened to be going on about. That night took a different turn though. When the two of you were done and the table was clear, he looked at you for a moment and then patted his lap.

“Sit with me, my pet,” he said.

My pet. A title you detested at first. In the beginning, it made you feel awful. Though now, it felt sweet in its own way. The term was one no one else got to wear.

You rose to your feet and rounded the table, approaching him to sit on one of his thighs. You look into his eyes curiously.

“What is it, Suguru?” you ask, your voice soft and sweet as it had come to be in his presence.

“How was dinner, sweetheart?” he asks. One hand rubs up and down your back while his other fidgets with the ends of your hair.

“It was good,” you answer.

“That’s good,” he says, watching your every expression, “Tell me, precious, are you happy here?”

You nod. “I’m happy with you,” he says.

“Well, that’s good because I need to talk to you about something,” he says. He reaches for a pouch he had resting on the table. He undoes the tie at the top as he continues to speak, “You know, as of today, you’ve been here for one year. A full year.”

“Really?” you ask, watching his fingers on the strings.

“Yes, and I wanted to offer you something to commemorate such a special date,” he says.

The pouch finally opens and out of it comes a collar made of black leather with the word Suguru’s spelled across the front in silver letters. He allows you to take it from his hands and inspect it, running your fingers over the materials.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you say. The words come out slowly as you adjust to the idea of having this strapped around your neck.

He grins as you don’t even bother to question it. “You’re welcome. You want to try it on?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say timidly and hand the strip of leather back to him.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His fingers bring the collar to your neck and wrap it around. He fastens it into place, not too tight to restrict you but not loose enough that you would forget its presence.

Turning your head to look at him, he takes in your appearance. His eyes scan your face before looking at your delicate neck with his name displayed across the front.

“You’re beautiful, little love. I don’t think you’ve ever looked better,” he praises and kisses your cheek, “My perfect puppy.”

A smile spreads across your lips, and helplessly, you sink into his affection. He continues to pet your head and run his fingers along your face with the most gentle touches.

“You look just as a proper pet should, collared and devoted completely to your owner,” he coos before kissing your nose.

“I like the collar. It feels good,” you say softly.

“That’s how you should feel. A collar is the most natural thing in the world for a precious pet like you. Someone meant to be pampered and doted on,” he murmurs and moves his kisses to your cheekbones and down your jaw.

Eventually, he reaches your lips. He looks at you before connecting the two of you in your first real kiss. You reciprocate the affection and lean into his touch. He goes in for a few more, his tongue flicking at your lips and sliding in to transition into full blown make out.

Both of your breathing deepens and becomes heavier puffs against each other’s face. After a little more, he pulls back and studies your face, your cute lips wet with his saliva.

“You like that, pup? Was that a good treat?” he teases before leaning down to the part of your neck not covered by the collar.

A breathy moan escapes you as you nod to his questions. He licks your skin before reattaching his lips and nipping at your throat. He places more kisses in the area while his hands massage your waist and move up to your breasts.

“I need to talk to you about something else, little love. Something else that good puppies do,” he says against your skin.

“Ok…” you agree, head tilted back to give him more room.

“I think you & I…” he starts before changing his wording, the only time you’d ever heard him stumble, “I think I need to breed you.”

Your eyes widen and dart over to what you can see of his face. “What?”

“I want to breed you,” he repeats, “My perfect little puppy, full with our perfect baby.”

The words rattle around in your head, but you’re still uncertain. “But Suguru… I don’t know,” you say.

With one more kiss to your throat, he picks you up and seats you on the table in front of him. “What’s causing your uncertainty?” he asks, his hands running up and down your thighs.

“Because… that’s a big deal, and I don’t even know if I want a baby. And we’re not even a real couple,” you reason, your skepticism showing in your voice.

He smirks at your words and nods dismissively. “Little one, we’re beyond being a “real couple.” We’re connected deeper than that, and you know this,” he tells you, “And because of that, imagine how perfect our child would be. A product of otherworldly connection. The baby would make us the family you’ve been missing for so long.”

Thinking his words over, you remain silent. A family? A physical manifestation of the connection between the two of you. It sounded good.

Of course, Suguru knew it would. He rarely enjoyed forcing you to do things. He took pleasure from convincing you of them, manipulating you into thinking as he did. Before you could come to any conclusion that resulted in “no,” he interjects.

“What if we practice? Just try it out,” he offers.

“Practice?” you repeat hesitantly.

“I’ll show you how good being bred feels. How you were just made for it,” he says and pulls your hips closer to the edge of the table. “Lay back for me.”

As per usual, you follow instructions. You lay back against the wood and look up at the bright lights on the ceiling. Suguru’s focus is all on you. He pushes your skirt out of the way and drags his thumb over your panties.

“I’ll warm you up first, little love. Just relax for me,” he says.

You squirm from the budding pleasure in the pit of your stomach. His touch was light enough to not give anything real, but it was still there. He leans in next, dragging his nose in place of his thumb. A kiss lands on your clit through the cloth before removing it entirely. The garment slides down your legs and hits the floor. He spreads you open for his viewing.

“Every part of you is beautiful,” he murmurs.

You squirm a little more as he just admires you. He just stares, taking in every precious detail of you. After what feels like forever, he leans in and licks an exploratory stripe up the length of your cunt. You breathe in a shuddery breath as he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue over your folds.

It’s just a taste though. He uses all his discipline to pull back and slide his fingers inside of you.

“Suguru…” you whine, back arching off the table.

“Such a needy little puppy,” he croons, “You’ve been aching for this and you didn’t even know it. That’s why you have me to show you.”

He pushes them deeper, curling them against your pleasure spots and making you whimper again. A smirk is plastered on his face now as he begins to pump them.

“Good baby,” he coos, “And this is just the warm up.”

Your slick gathers on Suguru’s fingers as he continues his efforts. His free hand holds your hip in place to ensure your squirming doesn’t interrupt him.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart. So eager for me,” he whispers with a kiss to your inner thigh.

Your walls clamp around his digits and draw him further into your heat. He picks up the pace a bit, figuring out what works on you as he goes on.

“It feels so good,” you whimper, clutching the edges of the table.

“I know it does, pup. Better than anything you’ve had before, yeah?” he says.

You nod and moan again as he adds another finger. The stretch wasn’t painful at this point. It just felt like pure satisfaction.

“You’re taking it so well. I can already tell you’re gonna be perfect for my cock,” he says.

He thumbs your clit while working his three fingers back and forth. After a while, the intimate touches become enough to get you to peak. You’re gasping, tensed up on the table before him.

“S-Suguru… can I?” you ask. You knew better than to just do whatever you wanted. He was being kind to you, but this was still his show.

“Can you what, puppy? I have got you dumb enough that you can’t use your words,” he teases.

“Can I- mm- Can I cum?” you stutter out.

“Alright, darling. I think you deserve it this time. Just know it won’t always be so easy,” he says, continuing his motions at the same pace.

You burst before his eyes, seizing up, hands so tight on the table you feel like you could snap it. You cry out loudly, not caring if anyone else were to walk by.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you babble before you’re even in the clear yet.

“What a good girl. You didn’t even need to be told,” he says.

He lets you come down as he stands up and disrobes. You’re still in the fog of euphoria, so you don’t notice how he stands between your legs until you feel his flushed tip nudging at your folds.

Your eyes cast downwards and lock onto his form. He was more bare than you’d ever seen, presented to you in all his glory. He continues to tease your hole, prodding at it with his tip before sliding it up to your clit.

“Suguru…” you whine, “Please.”

He laughs at the pout you attempt before bringing his cock down again and pushing in just the tip. You bite your lip, muffling your noises now that you had a clearer head. That wasn’t what he wanted though. He slips himself all the way inside, getting a needy moan from you once he’s bottomed out.

“Good girl. Don’t try to hide your enjoyment from me,” he says.

“But-” you start before cutting yourself off with a whine. You couldn’t help it when you felt the sensation of him thrusting. “But what if someone comes in?”

“Let them,” he says, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, “Let them see how good you are for me, the perfect pet. They won’t do a thing. Everyone here knows better than to question me. And that includes you. So no more questions.”

Heat still creeps up your neck at the thought of someone seeing you in such a vulnerable position, but while your mind swirls with the feeling of him inside you, it’s not enough for you to protest. Your shoulder blades pin against the table that creaks beneath you from his movements. He works to find a rhythm, pleased by your obedience.

His grip on your hips is just as tight as when his fingers were in you, and true to his word, you took his cock perfectly. You squeezed around him just right, so tight and warm. He’d never felt anything so heavenly.

He starts moving faster, pistoning himself deeper, and ripping more blissful noises from you. Your eyes were starting to droop with lust and get glossy with ecstasy. One of his hands reaches up to grab your chin and direct your vision to his.

“You like this, puppy? Feels as good as before?” he grunts.

“Yeah. Better,” you gasp. Your responses are curt as your mind would rather get lost in his touch than formulate words.

“Good. You’re gonna wanna do this more, yeah? Cause we can do it as often as we need. When you wake up, during the day when you get bored, when you need me to put you to sleep at night,” he lists out, “All the time until it takes, and you’re growing my baby.”

You whine and nod eagerly. When you we’re getting fucked dumb, that actually didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

He grins at your agreement. He knew he’d still have to convince you further when you weren’t high on pleasure, but this was definitive progress.

“I knew you’d come around, little love. You know it’s meant to be,” he says before leaning over you, pressing his forehead to yours and burying himself as deep as physically possible. “And I know you’re just gonna be the prettiest little mama.”

Another moan spills out of you against Suguru’s lips as he kisses you. His hips keep rutting into yours, locked in on making his words reality. You both pant when you separate. The heat forming between the two of you was sweltering enough to make you sweat.

“Want it, Suguru. I want it now,” you whimper.

That only spurs him closer towards the finish line as you accept it even more than he had anticipated.

“Do you, pup? Or do you just wanna cum?” he teases. His own voice was straining a bit as he got closer.

“Want both,” you defend between moans.

“Good. Cause you’re gonna get both. Cum for me puppy, want you to cum all over my cock,” he mutters and thrusts harder.

You gasp at the sharp movements and dig your nails into his back. Cut off words fall from your lips, and your legs tremble violently. It’s not long before you cum again, jerking and bucking your hips, whining for him and crying out whatever came into your mind.

“That’s my puppy. My perfect girl. Made for me and me alone,” he breathes, shutting his eyes as the feeling of you clamped around him takes over.

His own breathing becomes ragged as he feels the heat inside him reaching a boiling point. He groans, creating the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard as he fucks his cum into you. His hips keep thrusting and don’t break their rhythm at all. He was going to do this right. His mind was fueled by pure determination.

When you both have come down, he’s still on top of you, not wanting to lose contact with your body. He reluctantly pulls out and looks down at you in you’re fucked out state. His sweetest pet. Scooping you up, he carries you to the bedroom to clean you off and get the two of you to bed. He sleeps with you tucked to his chest, his arms wrapped around you like a vise. He dreams of you on his lap, his hand on your swollen belly, and your eyes looking up at him with unending adoration.

#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto imagines #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut

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flowerandblood · 3 months

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The Fall from the Heavens (9)

[ dark • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, violence, swearing, humiliation, suicide attempt, descriptions of wounds, coercion ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

When he stepped out of the underground into the cloisters, there was complete chaos all around him. He stood on the stairs for a while, watching from below what was happening, not wanting to guide anyone to where his niece was, deciding that she was safe where he had left her.

Something had happened, he could feel it in his bones.

It was only when silence echoed around him that he emerged from his hiding place and moved quickly ahead, heading for his mother's chamber. He didn't find her there, however, and when he stepped back out into the corridor he almost bumped into Criston Cole, his lips pressed together in a thin line.

He was furious.

"My Prince."

Cole led him, to his dismay, into the chamber where the Small Council was meeting, not changing a word with him along the way, pale and tense.

He wondered if it had something to do with the fact that they had managed to escape on his watch.

When the door opened he saw his entire family. His mother, dressed in her most beautiful, richly decorated emerald gown with a large seven-pointed star on her chest sat at the head of the table, looking at him with furrowed brows, her hands folded in front of her − his attention immediately drawn to the fact that she was plucking at the cuticles around her nails with her fingers, creating wounds from which blood was oozing.

To her left sat Aegon, all bruised and with his hair in complete disarray, as if he had been dragged out of some barn; he was still clearly drunk, staring blankly ahead, playing with a ruby stone ball placed in a niche on the table.

Next to him sat Helaena, breathing rapidly, it seemed to him that she was going through some kind of panic inside her. She was looking sideways, her whole body was quivering; he thought she didn't even notice his presence.

In addition to the maester and Lord Lannister, he noticed also his grandfather, seated at his mother's right hand, his chin raised slightly, his eyebrows showed surprise and disapproval. He was the first person to speak when the chamber door closed behind him with a loud clatter of old wood.

"At last you have graced us with your presence. Where have you been? The whole keep has been looking for you." He said dispassionately and coolly, with a kind of mockery from which he only tightened his lips, rolling his eyes, folding his hands behind him. He straightened up, sighing heavily.

"What's happening? Why all the commotion?" He asked, feigning indifference, trying not to pay attention to the tightness in his throat and the rapid pounding of his heart.

"Your father, our King, died this night. He passed away peacefully."

He looked at him in disbelief, feeling that for a moment his mind was in a complete void, his heart stopped, his body froze as still as stone.

As he always did in moments of panic, he turned his gaze towards his mother, the weariness and helplessness on her face, her eyes red from the tears she had surely shed over this old man she had never desired.

"Before his death, he revealed to me that it was Aegon who should become King. He told me this in person, without witnesses." She said quietly, lowering her gaze to her hands; she slid them down to her lap as she noticed that blood from under her fingernails had begun to run down onto the table.

A heavy, suffocating silence full of tension fell − his older brother looked at him as if begging him to spare him this and just kill him.

He involuntarily snorted, not knowing how else he could react to this nonsense.

"You can lie to the kingdom, mother, but not to us. If you don't want to let Rheanyra take the throne, just say so."

He saw her raise her gaze at him quickly, full of pain and regret, her eyebrows arched in disbelief that the son with whom she had always shared the closest bond simply did not believe her and mocked her words.

"It is true, Aemond. I swear on the Seven that it is true."

He turned his face away from her, hitting the side of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, feeling that chaos filled his head; even though he tried to calm down and focus, the terror that this was changing everything prevailed.

"Where is she, Aemond? She will be of great use to us in negotiations with the Princess. She will not burn us alive in the keep as long as she knows her daughter is here." Said his grandfather in a voice as if he were rebuking a small child, deliberately leaving out the fact that he guessed why and for what reason the two of them had fled.

He looked at him coldly, feeling a squeeze in his throat at the realisation that he had made a mistake.

She stayed because that was his desire.

She ran away with him because that was his desire.

She gave herself to him because that was his desire.

She had done everything he wanted, and now he was going to sell her, betray her, make her a prisoner?

A dragon is not a slave, he thought regretfully.

"Aemond." He heard his mother's pleading voice. "I want to find a solution that satisfies her mother to some extent as well. We must have her under control, it is the only solution."

"I will marry her first. The sooner, the better."

His grandfather and mother looked at him as if he had gone completely mad, Otto laughed as if he couldn't believe he had said that.

"I knew your brother thinks with his cock, but you? You've lost only one eye, but you're completely blind." He said with a sneer from which he felt his jaw clench.

"That was my father's wish. Unlike my mother's words, this decision of his was heard by everyone here." He hissed, looking at him with growing fury, like a cornered animal trying to bite, knowing that he was slowly losing control of the situation.

"Your father is dead. Instead your brother will face a difficult task for which he will need the support of Storm's End. You will marry one of Lord Baratheon's daughters. He has as many as four of them, a whole lot to choose from." His grandfather replied, looking around the assembled with a look full of conviction that he had said the right thing, that his sacrifice for his family was necessary, that everyone now had to take on some burden.

"No."

He heard his low, enraged voice before he had time to think, found to his surprise that it was not the call of his mind, but of his subconscious, as if that one word had escaped from his dark, empty depths.

"Don't be a fool, you have to…"

"My father's word matters in the decision to make Aegon King, but not in the case of my marriage?" He growled, trying to control his loud breathing, terror and panic overpowering his body, for here it suddenly appeared that the last person who could support him, who shared his desire was gone.

He had taken her, she could carry his child, his inheritance.

How could he abandon her now, after promising her that he would marry her as soon as possible?

How would that prove about him as a man?

"Mother." He turned to her as a last resort; his Queen looked at him with her lips slightly parted, her eyebrows arched in pain and indecision as she knew he was driven by more than just his dying father's wishes.

"We must protect our family, Aemond. We all make sacrifices. Duty is the death of love. Tell me where she is."

He looked at his mother, the woman he had always trusted, cared for, protected, and thought he was alone.

For a moment he saw her peaceful, sleeping face in his mind, felt her soft, bare, warm body snuggled into his, entwined with his like a vine and felt a tightening in his throat, tears of shame in the corners of his eyes.

"She is in servant's chamber."

He knew Criston Cole had gone to find her as soon as they had returned from the Great Sept after Aegon's coronation. He knew she must surely have felt betrayed, terrified and distraught; he thought about how she needed him, only to find that she now only despised him and had every right to do so.

When they returned, he locked himself in his quarters and did not leave, despite the lavish feast held in honour of the new King, insisted on by Aegon himself. He stared into the flames, exactly as he had when he had waited for her letters, and knew that if there had ever been hope for them, he had just crushed it.

Even if he wanted to go to see her, no one would let him in; his grandfather had made sure he would no longer visit her.

He felt empty.

Mad ideas ran through his head − thoughts that perhaps if he explained everything to her in detail, told her the truth, the fact that everything that was happening around them had occurred without him being involved, that he was as shocked as she was, that it was not his desire to wed anyone but her, he could try to marry her in secret.

He felt a sort of pathetic hope at the thought, which he knew was childish and naïve, however he clung to it not wanting to consider that she might not have desired and loved him anymore.

It was then that he heard it, the shouts of the guards and the commotion; he stepped out into the corridor and noticed that the door to his niece's chamber was open.

"Gods help us! Summon the maester, quickly!" He heard Criston's frightened voice; he moved in that direction qucikly and stepped inside, staring in disbelief at the terrifying sight before him, feeling only the frantic pounding of his heart.

His Rhaenys was lying on her bed, her lips parted, her face blue and pale, her wrists slit, the snow-white sheets and furs around her sticky with her blood, Criston clutching her wounds in his hands, looking at him in horror.

"− they told me they searched her whole chamber − she must have hidden it somewhere −" Cole said in a trembling voice, clearly afraid of his wrath, but he didn't listen to him, staring blankly at the small dagger lying beside her body, remembering that she had shown it to him proudly when they were still children, saying that now, like him, she could be a warrior.

She had asked him, in secret from their parents, to show her how to handle it, and though he had been reluctant at first, fearing that she would hurt herself, he succumbed to her when she told him that she would feel safer with it.

He acknowledged then that while she certainly wouldn't need it once he became her husband, as she would spend every night in his presence and he would be her protector, until they were married he would feel reassured if she could defend herself.

He then showed her some simple cuts on the sack filled with hay he had brought to her chamber earlier, which she stabbed with a certainty and ferocity that shocked him; had it not been for fear of what others would think, he would have suggested she try wielding a sword.

He approached her slowly on trembling legs feeling complete emptiness in his head, breathing heavily through his mouth and climbed onto her bed, gently grasping her cheeks in his fingers, turning her face towards him, her body limp, her lips slightly parted, her eyelids half open, her gaze distant, misty.

"− what have you done? −" He asked in a whisper, terrified of how his voice and body were shaking, his heart pounding like mad, his throat and stomach squeezed so tightly that he had trouble breathing.

He heard her quiet sigh as she struggled to lift her gaze to him, looking at him as if she was thinking about something, as if she wasn't sure if what was happening was a dream or a wake.

It was only when he looked at her closely that he noticed that her right cheek was all red and swollen, he felt tears of shame under his eyelids and overwhelming rage at the thought that someone had dared to hit her.

"− was I ever your Rhaenys? −" She asked so quietly that he barely heard her; he felt an unbearable squeeze in his throat, his eyebrows arched in pain, his eyes burning from the tears that wanted so desperately to run down his face.

"− you're − you're − gods, you've always been −" He whimpered with difficulty in a voice breaking with pain and grief, pressing his nose against her soft, cold cheek. He cried out loudly, never feeling so helpless before in his life, for his dearest woman was dying in his arms because of him, betrayed and abandoned.

He didn't hear the terrified screams of his sister and mother as they ran ran into her chamber to see what had happened, didn't hear the words of the maester telling him to move away or the look of his brother standing behind him, grabbing his arm, telling him in a trembling voice that he had to release her, that he had to let the medics treat her wounds.

"− do not fall asleep −" He muttered, feeling the warm tears run down his cheeks, looking only at her, stroking her head as if she were again a small child, shifting just enough for the maester to bandage her wrists and stop the bleeding.

He pressed his face to her cheek, whispering with difficulty that she was his beloved wife, his dearest friend, his sweetest Rhaenys.

"− my head is spinning −" She mumbled softly, his mother sitting on the other side of the bed covered her face with her hand, trying to calm her breathing, her face red from tears; Helaena stood beside her trembling all over, unable to make a sound, going through everything she saw deep inside her.

"Gods, help her." He heard her soft whisper, their mother repeated her words − she raised her hand wanting to stroke her daughter's arm, but she pulled away.

This is what duty was to them, he thought.

Destruction.

"− rest, my sweetest − rest −" He whispered, stroking her cold cheek with his thumb, sure that no force would tear him away from her now, no force would make him leave her, that if any of them tried to do so, he would fucking kill them all.

However, no one tried.

"She lost a lot of blood. I gave her beetroot juice to strengthen her body and secured her wounds, but she may not survive the night." He heard the maester's quiet voice addressed to his mother, the Queen wept softly and began to pray aloud.

He listened to the words of her prayer as he lay with his hand on her throat, tips of his fingers pressed against her artery to make sure he could still feel her pulse, his face pressed against her soft cheek.

Aegon got up at last and left without a word, his mother, Helaena and maester fell asleep in chairs by the blazing fireplace, wakeful, terrified of what consequences her death might have had for them all.

He, however, did not sleep that night.

For the first time in years, holding her in his arms, making sure she was breathing, that her heart was still beating, he allowed himself to return to the memories of their childhood that he had locked deep in his heart, recognising them as the source of his weakness.

He recalled their first kiss, how she looked that day and thought with bitter amazement that he remembered perfectly even what gown she wore, how her hair was combed, the taste of the lemon cake she had brought him moments before.

He kissed her forehead at that memory, so innocent and tender, felt the warmth melt into his chest and heart, so wonderfully pleasant, soothing.

"− uncle −" He heard her quiet voice and shuddered, looking down at her; he stroked her cheek and hushed her, seeing that her eyes were half-open, her lips slightly parted.

"− shhh − sleep, sweet flower, I am here −" He whispered and she smiled again, her hand lifted with difficulty, he felt a shiver run down his spine as her fingertips ran over the skin of his face.

"− can I kiss you? −" She asked softly, thinking for certain that everything that happened was just a bad dream.

He leaned over her and sank his lips into hers, feeling with relief that her body was warmer, that life was returning to her, her mouth wonderfully soft and moist.

She sighed sweetly feeling his closeness, his hand slipping into her hair, holding her close, his manhood in his breeches involuntarily pulsing hard, betraying how much he needed her, how much he desired her.

They kissed slowly, lazily, allowing themselves to finally be those innocent, ignorant children again, his fingers stroked her hair, her cheeks, her neck with a gentleness he thought his body had already forgotten, the taste of her saliva melting on his palate, on his tongue.

He thought with pain, holding her close, that when she regained consciousness, when she woke up in the morning, she would loathe him.

"− I dreamt that they made me drink it −" She whispered more to herself than to him, and he felt his heart stop, looking at her with his eyes wide open, his trembling breath enveloping her face.

"− what, my love? −" He asked trying to control the tremor in his voice, feeling the cold sweat on his back, his whole body froze.

"− moon tea − they forced it down my throat −" She muttered, nuzzling her face into his neck, as if she was trying to escape this thought, sighing quietly in relief, apparently thinking that they were still in in the chamber they had escaped to together.

He embraced her tightly, burying his nose in her hair, fruitlessly trying to stifle the whimper of horror that broke suddenly from his throat, his heart and throat squeezed so tightly that he could not catch his breath.

His seed that could take root in her womb.

Their future.

Their child.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla @echos-muses

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delicateflowerss · 9 months

Text

Don't Worry, Darling: Eight

After marrying the love of your life, Rafe Cameron, you thought you couldn't be happier. But when a murder shakes the island, you learn you don't know your husband as well as you thought. When does Paradise become Hell?

Warnings: 18+, NON-CON, forced pregnancy, mentions of drugging, choking, vomiting, mentions of murder, dark!Rafe, mentions of a gun, mention of drugs, kook!reader, non-canon ages

Just one more chapter! Excited to be getting near the end, enjoy <3

Word Count: 3k

Series Masterlist

Ice cold fingers dig into the searing heat of your skin. His hold on your neck is tight, making you gasp for air as his hand has the strength to stop you from breathing all together.

You can feel his weight on top of you, more suffocating than him choking you to death. He pushes himself inside you, over and over again. You want to stop him, but it’s impossible for you to use your breath to say anything.

Sandalwood hangs heavy in the air, mixing with his musk. Through the darkness, you can’t make out your assailant.

You want to call out, not only to stop him, but to get help from the first person your mind can think of. The man you still feel instinctively safe with.

Except, the man above you finally speaks. He tries to comfort you, soothing you from how he’s hurting you.

And then you realize that the man raping you and the man you are trying to find refuge in are the same.

You open your mouth to scream but instead you’re ripped from the nightmare, waking up with a gasp on your lips.

You look around your dark bedroom, only to find your husband sleeping soundly beside you.

You stare at him for a moment, the nightmare still floating around in your head.

You’re not sure whether the nightmare was tapping into your fears only located in your subconscious, or if it truly meant something.

It’s been about a week since you found out you’re pregnant. The news turned your world upside down. After you left the doctor’s office, you just sat in your car awhile, not stopping the tears from falling.

You thought about what it means for your life now and how it could’ve even happened. Even before the disarray with Rafe, you didn’t want a baby just yet.

So, with everything happening…how can you bring a baby into this mess?

But you knew how upset Rafe would be if you told him, you didn’t want the baby.

And all you’ve been doing for the last few weeks is trying not to upset him.

So, when he got home from work that day, you gave him the news.

He didn’t say anything at first and you worried that you got it wrong. That maybe he changed his mind, and a baby would only add to the stress.

Then, the corners of his mouth turned up into a smile. He kissed you and you could tell he was elated about it.

But it faltered when he noticed that your mood didn’t exactly match his.

“I just thought we were being careful,” you told him.

You were sitting on a dining room chair, your hands in your lap. He bent down to look at you better, his hands gently finding yours.

“We were,” he said as a matter of fact. “But accidents happen. And I mean, we haven’t really been able to keep our hands off each other lately,” he added with a smirk.

He hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you, he means.

“What matters is we’re going to have a baby. We’re finally going to be a family.” He couldn’t hide his excitement even if he tried.

You couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest at his words. But as you looked into his eyes, trepidation filled yours.

Even now as you watch his chest rise and fall in his sleep, the feeling that he’s lying is one you can’t ignore any longer.

Before you can think about it anymore, you can feel your stomach twist into knots, bile starting to rise.

You jump out of bed and run to the bathroom, spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

You’re not sure how much longer you can bear this sickness. You’re told it should only last the first trimester, but it could last the whole pregnancy if you’re unlucky.

You don’t hear him walk up behind you, but you feel the comforting weight of his hand on your back as he rubs circles into your shirt.

Even if you wanted to, you don’t think you have the strength to push him away.

The phone call came unexpectedly.

It’s true that you got behind on editing for clients. But you thought you were okay. You were just starting to get back into finishing them.

You were actually making yourself a snack before resuming your work on a new book. But now there’s no reason to keep going.

“They’re called deadlines for a reason, Y/N.” Your boss’s voice rings out.

“I know, and I apologize, Mr. Samuels. It’s just a lot has been going on lately and…I recently found out that I’m pregnant.”

You can hear him sigh.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. But you knew from the beginning how important it is to meet deadlines, especially with how fast paced things are in the publishing world.”

You want to stop the words from coming out of his mouth, but you can’t. All you can do is listen.

“We have to let you go. I’m sorry. I wish you the best with the baby,” he says before hanging up.

Rafe finds you on the couch, still crying, even hours later.

He says your name with worry and fear.

Not even a moment later, he’s trying to wipe your tears away.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

All you can do is shake your head as you sit up.

“Baby, you gotta tell me what’s wrong,” he tries again.

You sniffle as you try to blink away anymore tears.

“They fired me,” you finally say, as if your mouth is filled with glue, struggling to get the words out.

He keeps his gaze away from you, putting a hand on your knee, trying to soothe you yet again.

You wonder if you’ll ever get sick of it.

Maybe you already are.

“Did they say why?”

Now it’s your turn to look somewhere else. You bite your lip instead of answering.

Rafe sighs before telling you, “Maybe this is a good thing.”

He gets your attention with those words. He immediately continues at your furrowed brow.

“All that work and stress isn’t good for the baby. Now you’ll have more time to relax.”

It takes you a moment to realize what he’s saying.

You scoff, “you’ve never liked me working. I’m sure this makes you happy.”

“No,” he argues. “I’m just trying to see the bright side of this, Y/N.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. There’s no point in fighting with him about this. It’s not like this is his fault.

So, you just nod.

“I’m going to start dinner. You’re probably hungry.”

That’s all you say before leaving the room.

You thought the chaos would end there. You’ve been dealt one blow after another. So, maybe it was naïve for you to think things could ever calm down.

It starts with a segment on the news.

You had the TV on while you were vacuuming, barely able to hear the voices over the loud noise of cleaning the rug.

But when you catch a glimpse of the floating words under the reporter, you can feel your heart sink to your stomach.

You fumble as you try to turn off the vacuum as fast as you can before turning up the TV.

“The only information we have as of right now is a body was found earlier today, spotted by local fishermen. Based on eyewitness reports, it is a male in his mid to late twenties. Kildare County Police Department is refusing to comment at this time. We hope to…”

You almost end up puking on the rug you just cleaned, but you’re able to run to the kitchen. The poison spills from your lips into the sink.

You’re not sure when the tears started, but your retching turns into sobs as you collapse onto the floor.

You’re going to jail for helping to cover up a murder and all you can think about is what your parents will think.

The whole island will know what a horrible human being you are.

Anyone you have ever loved will never look at you the same.

Besides Rafe, you suppose.

Why doesn’t your love for him have any boundaries?

If only it did, you wouldn’t be throwing your whole life away.

This whole time you thought you were scared of Rafe, but really, you’re scared of your love for him.

He has a hold on you that made it so easy for you to throw away your morals, choosing his violence over your peace.

You barely hear him get home, closing the front door like he’s afraid someone will burst in at any second.

He’s off early from work, but you wouldn’t know that since you haven’t left your spot on the cold kitchen floor.

You don’t notice the guilt that washes over his face when he sees you because it’s gone as quickly as it’s there.

“We have to go, Y/N,” he says while reaching his arms out, trying to get you off the floor.

You ignore him, sobs still erupting from you.

“We’re going to jail, Rafe. They know. They know everything…”

Another gut-wrenching cry falls from your lips as your eyes screw shut.

“That’s why we gotta leave, alright?”

He’s finally able to pull you off the floor, guiding you upstairs with a tight grip.

“We’re gonna get out of this, baby. Just stop crying, please,” he placates.

You’re finally able to calm yourself down, a sob still trying to get free every now and then.

You realize what he’s doing when he starts throwing clothes into an empty suitcase.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to pack?” His appeasing tone is gone, irritation replacing it.

It takes you a moment to find your voice.

“Rafe, what are you doing? We can’t leave.”

“What other choice do we have?”

You follow him into his office.

“I’m not spending the rest of our lives running. Especially when we’ll have a baby soon.”

You try to convince him to change his mind.

He doesn’t stop to look at you, rummaging through the drawers of his desk. Your mouth twists up when a small bag of coke falls onto the wooden surface.

As much as it upsets you, it almost makes you nostalgic for a time when Rafe’s addiction was the only dark cloud lingering over your relationship.

Now, there’s too many to count.

“Flush it,” he demands, pointing to the bag.

You have to stop yourself from rolling your eyes before you trudge over to grab it.

At least Rafe knows he can’t bring that with him.

You don’t want to have to say goodbye to your life, to the island you’ve always called home.

But you really don’t want to go to prison.

You’re still standing there, staring out your bathroom window after the drugs are long gone, flushed down the toilet.

It hits you how much you want your parents, wishing they could swoop in and fix everything like they could when you were a child.

It also hits you that the human growing inside you will expect the same thing from you and Rafe one day.

Except, you know they deserve so much better than what either of you could offer.

A thunderous noise echoes throughout the house, followed by a man’s voice.

You can still hear him yelling when you run to find Rafe.

“What are you doing?” you yell, seeing him loading a gun.

“They’re coming for us.”

“Are you stupid? You’re going to get yourself killed.”

You could hear them pounding on the door. They’re coming in any second, you know it.

You gently grab his wrist.

“Just do the right thing for once. Rafe, please,” you lightly say.

You stare into his blue eyes, and it feels like time has stopped, stretched thin before the inevitable happens.

His jaw ticks and you think he’s not going to listen to you.

But as the door bursts open, he drops the gun onto his desk.

He gives you a quick but bruising kiss before he steps into the hallway.

Everything that comes after is a blur.

The police let him walk downstairs, their guns pointed at him before cuffing him.

Not only do they arrest him, taking him to a police car. But they have a search warrant. They’re allowed to look anywhere they want to. Men you’ve never met before get to go through your things, creating a mess in their trail.

At least they don’t arrest you.

You expect them to, but instead they ask you tons of questions. You tell them how Rafe came home early from work, frantic about needing to leave. You were confused as he wouldn’t tell you anything.

You decide to feign ignorance. That’s a better way of saying you lie right to their faces.

But you’re not just protecting yourself anymore.

Now you wait at the police station, leg shaking and fingers fidgeting with the light sweater you have on.

You can hear Ward and his lawyer speaking to Shoupe, voices being raised every once in a while.

They’re charging Rafe with first-degree murder. As of right now, only for Jake’s murder. They still don’t have enough evidence to charge him with Chase’s, but you wouldn’t be surprised if they found something soon.

They booked him in the county jail where he’ll be until his trial. Unless Ward can negotiate bail.

You thought something like this happening would ease your guilt about the situation. But instead, you feel more lost than you have in a while.

Can you really spend the rest of your life without Rafe? Raise his child all on your own.

You hear a door open, and slam shut, Ward leaving the sheriff’s office with a look of annoyance.

He sits in the chair next to you, brushing his forehead with his hand before turning to you with a forced tight-lipped smile.

“How you holdin’ up?”

All you do is nod, giving him a tight-lipped smile back.

“We’re working on bailing him out. It might take a while, but we’ll do our best so he’s home before the trial.”

You decide it’s best not to say anything, unsure of whether you want Rafe away from you or with you. It’s been a battle of these feelings for the longest time now.

You just want it to stop.

“From what I can tell, the only thing they have on him is the weapon. All the DNA on the body was washed away in the ocean,” he explains.

He glances at you from the corner of his eye like he’s waiting for you to say something.

His casualty almost makes it seem like he’s aware that you’ve known about the murders longer than just today.

You’re not sure if it has to do with your calmness about the situation or if Rafe told him. If it is your calmness to blame, it’s really defeat that it’s being mistaken for.

“Thanks, Ward,” you quietly say. “I’m sure Rafe would appreciate this.”

“Well, it’s not just about Rafe. It’s about you too.”

You stare at him with a question in your eyes as you can feel your heart start to beat faster.

Is this about you helping Rafe?

“I want you to know you’re taken care of. That I always look out for my family. And you’re family, now more than ever.”

You squint your eyes still not understanding.

“Rafe told me you’re pregnant.”

You move your eyes to your lap before replying, “oh. We were going to wait to tell you.”

“I know,” he immediately says. “I know. I was supposed to act surprised when you told the family.” He chuckles a little. “But given the situation…”

He swallows, looking away for a second.

“I just know how much you need him right now. And whatever happens…I want you to know that I’m here for you. Rose is here for you. We’re all here for you.” He pauses, sincerity filling his eyes.

“I don’t want to say it, but if things don’t go the way we want with Rafe, I know leaving may seem like a good idea. But that baby is a light that will brighten the darkness that surrounds us now. We all need it. Even Rafe,” he adds.

Sometimes when you talk to Ward, it feels like he knows what you’re thinking.

Some people might like that. But not you.

You understand he’s Rafe’s father, but the fact that Rafe already told him about you being pregnant doesn’t sit right with you.

What else have they been talking about?

“It’s getting late. You should get home, get some rest. I’ll figure things out. I’ll get him home to you, Y/N.”

“Yes. Thank you, Ward. Try and get some rest too,” you tell him with a sweet smile that drops when you leave his sight.

When you get home, it looks like a tornado has been through it. All the time you’ve spent keeping it looking good has now been ruined by a bunch of men in uniforms.

You decide to ignore it all and go right to your bedroom, hoping to get the rest that your father-in-law was talking about.

When you see the state of it, you end up dropping your purse on the floor with a heavy sigh.

There is no rest in sight for you.

You start to tidy things up, putting clothes back in drawers, and fixing the pillows on the bed.

When the room looks clean enough, you head to the bathroom, finding everything scattered on the counter.

You quickly begin to put things back in drawers and in the medicine cabinet.

Until your thumb catches on a loose label on one of the pill bottles.

You think it’s one of the drugs that Rafe was prescribed a little while ago for headaches. But the label with the name of the drug is peeling back, another label under it.

You tear it off, brow furrowing when you see a name of a drug you don’t recognize. You find your phone and search up the name.

You can’t stop your bottom lip from trembling when you read what it’s for.

Why does Rafe need pills that put you to sleep, leaving you foggy and with possible memory-loss.

And why was he hiding it?

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todorokies · 9 months

Text

2:48pm - satoru gojo

contents: fluff, established relationship, fem!reader, teen!gojo or adult!gojo u can imagine whichever, found family trope, megumi & tsumiki are some vv young lads here (they’re like 8 & 9 years old), this is a kinda unserious ngl

a/n: the found family trope will always hold a special place in my heart

“what the hell are you doing?!”

the sight in front of you was absolutely distasteful, nothing could’ve prepared you for the horrors that displayed in the comfort of your own home. not even a trip to the ninth circle of hell could mentally equip you with strength to deal with this troublesome…mess.

satoru’s elongated body currently rests in a downward dog postion as his hands are occupied with his left being on a red circle and the right on a blue circle.

you would think the children that you left in his care would be participating in the child’s game of twister, but that was far from the truth as satoru’s hostages —megumi and tsumiki— sat criss-crossed off the game mat as they shared the same puzzled look with you.

“oh hey baby! we missed you- megs gimme a hand here and spin the wheel for me.” your mouth comically drops so fast you’d think you were in an episode of a cartoon.

with a deep scowl present on his face, the young megumi reluctantly shifts closer to the spinner giving it a weak twirl that eventually lands on ‘right foot, green.’ miraculously, satoru is able to cross his foot over on a green circle in a way that shouldn’t be considered humanly possible.

your boyfriend is gonna break a bone or two if you don’t stop this tomfoolery.

you crouch down to be face to face with him. “you do realize you’re supposed to be looking after the kids while i was gone…not traumatizing them, right?” he raises his head to look at you, “traumatizing them? nonsense! a good game of twister always builds character.”

“a good game of them watching you play alone will build character for them how exactly?”

“well obviously i couldn’t let them play. i wouldn’t want to risk toppling them over and letting them lose in a game that requires skill.”

with that, tsumiki and megumi gets up from their spots on the floor and make their way to the entryway to pick up the snacks you dropped in disarray upon arrival. “but you lost to both me and megumi before…i don’t know why he’s lying.”

ego bruised, he dramatically collapses on the twister mat, “you weren’t suppose to tell her that!” a genuine belly laugh escapes from your mouth, heading towards the couch to high-five the kids who just finished putting away the groceries and had two family sized potato chip bags in their laps.

“good job guys! next time record it on his phone for me.” they both nodded with enthusiasm.

satoru dramatically whines while planting his face in the palm of his hands while striding over to your dvd rack to choose a movie for the night. “cut me some slack, did you really expect me ruin the game for the kids?”

you quizzically contemplate your answer with a finger on your chin and satoru could practically see the sfx question mark above your head. “oh come onnnn!”

you then walk over to the now sulking white haired boy to delicately place both of your hands on his smooth face earning a groan from megumi combined with fake gagging sounds from tsumiki.

“if it makes you feel any better i think they secretly enjoy your antics. tsumiki told me about the tea party you guys had; with tiaras and everything yeah?” he slowly nodded unsure of what you’re trying to get at.

“and you bought megumi that nintendo ds he was subtly hinting for…my point is that they appreciate you so much even if they act like they don’t; i appreciate you.”

satoru’s whole demeanour does a turnaround. smiling gleefully at you as his dimples showcase in all of it’s glory. “i mean, yeah, they don’t wanna admit it to your face in case it’ll hurt your feelings…” his hand inches towards to your neck lightly ghosting above your velvety skin whilst slowly leaning in as his eyes flicker to your lips. “…but i think i’m their favourite parent.”

before his soft lips could capture yours two potato chips come flying in your direction as a sour expression sits upon tsumiki and megumi’s face. “ewww guys! remember we still need to pick something to watch.”

megumi huffs, “and can we not watch ice age for the millionth time i don’t care how much gojo likes that movie.”

reblogs & feedback is appreciated!! <3

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gretagerwigsmuse · 6 months

Text

rocketman: part i - it's just my job five days a week

Summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw is on a three month special detachment in the pacific and the holidays have never felt lonelier for either of you. it's just three months, it'll be fine, right?

OR you and bradley write each other 159 emails

Pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

Warnings: 18+, explicit language, suggestive dialogue, bradley needs to remember this is a government email server...(okay yes, i am perfectly aware that our esteemed lieutenant commander would probably get kicked out of the navy for some of these emails…that being said, i also don’t particularly care! we’re playing fast and loose with the time stamps too because i may be smart, but math has never been a strong suit of mine!) enjoy the companion playlist! rest of the series can be found here!

12/17 @ 6:19am

I miss you already and I haven’t even left the parking lot. I’m still in my car typing this after having stayed for probably far too long watching your C-40 take off (like people were staring at me I was there so long)(and, yes, I looked up the name of the plane). Pete asked me if I wanted to get breakfast with him, but I said no. Felt too lost. Plus, I need to get ready for work. We’re going to get dinner on Wednesday before I head up to Berkeley Thursday morning, though!

Hope you have a safe transport and settle onboard quickly. I left you something in your duffle bag (yes, it’s safe to open around other people…head out of the gutter, Bradshaw).

Love you and stay safe, x

12/18 @ 5:46pm

Just dropped off the gifts at the Junior League for Caroline’s adopt a child thing. She was completely in her element (they gave her a clipboard and a bullhorn!), though she did say we went wayyy too over the top. But little Carter asked for all that stuff! We couldn’t just not get it all for him? She also appreciated your wrapping skills, very impressed with the bows and tight corners. I met a couple of her friends there, which was nice and they invited me to stay for drinks (the prosecco was flowing…), but I wanted to head home.

I miss you so much already, it feels weird not going over to your place after work and making dinner and prepping lunch together - and it’s only been two days. I know you’re on a comms blackout for the next couple days, so I’m just gonna keep sending these so you’ll have a bunch to read all at once.

All my love, x

12/19 @ 11:48am

My brother and Lauren decided to come out here for Christmas after all! My dad was so excited when he called me, but I think Mary’s a little less enthused. Feels like shit knowing we were the backup option for them. Apparently, Lauren’s mom is sick and the whole house is in disarray (not hard in that family…) so my dad is paying for them to fly in from New York tomorrow. I think it’ll be nice, we’ll almost have a full set (baring you, of course, my darling rocketman), so the house won’t be as lonely. Do you think we’ll get to talk on Christmas or Christmas Eve? You should be getting a package soon (‘twas preemptively sent!) and are under strict orders not to open it until Christmas Eve, buddy!

Going to dinner with Pete tonight, I’ll let you know how it goes. Amelia’s coming with us, but I don’t know about Penny? I hope they like the gifts we got them. I’m going to stop by your place, do a once over, and make sure the tree is ready for Pete to take, etc. before I leave on Thursday.

Love you and talk soon! x

12/20 @ 7:03am

House looked good! In my seat on the plane. If my morals were shakier, I would 1000% have taken Max up on his offer to fly me up to Berkeley. But alas! Climate change is real and private jets account for 20x as many carbon emissions as commercial planes, so I am up at the ass-crack of dawn for this 7:15am flight. I’ll message you when I land, love you!

12/20 @ 9:04am

Just landed - easy flight. Now to find my dad in arrivals…

Love you, talk when you get the chance! x

12/23 @ 4:45am

Hey sweetheart! Back online and all settled in. I’m bunking with Payback and we actually have a pretty decent layout. He graciously offered to give me the bottom bunk, due to my ‘geriatric status.’ Honestly, I’m just glad I don’t have to sleep in the bunk room with the ensigns and rest of the crew. I forgot how noisy it is being on an aircraft carrier, which makes Payback’s snoring surprisingly pleasant. I’m glad he and Bob are with me. The rest of this squadron’s from Lemoore and Bob knows some of them. It’s interesting seeing him and Payback fly together, but they mesh really well.

Glad Mav is there to keep an eye on you.

Okay, I had way too much fun picking out all those presents, so I really hope Carter loves them too. And please tell me you have a picture of Caroline yelling into the bullhorn? I can truly think of nothing scarier than Caroline Calloway ordering the young women of San Diego county around like Santa’s chief elf. And speaking of gifts, I loved my pictures. The one from the Christmas party is my favorite, did Fanboy take it? I saw him running around with his Pentax. When the hell did you have time to print it? I’ve got it hanging up in my bunk so I can see it every night.

I still don’t understand why you don’t fly into Oakland instead of SFO? Like I get it, you’re not a Spirit or SW girl, but kid….it’s an hour and forty minute flight? Live a little. And I think it’ll be nice having your brother and Lauren around for Christmas. How many people do you think it’ll be? I always loved seeing Christmas Eves with large families in movies and stuff, all the chaos and whatnot? But it’s just gonna be you five Christmas Day? I’ve heard rumblings that I might be first in line for a Facetime on Christmas Eve, so save some time for me too, kid. I’ll let you know for sure in a couple days.

Okay, think we’re all caught up now. Talk soon and love you so much,

Your Bradley

12/23 @ 9:08am

Bubs! I read your email four times since I woke up, I can’t stop smiling. I’m glad you’re all settled in - Payback’s snoring and ageism aside haha. How’s the food? Do you want earplugs? A sleep mask? Are earplugs allowed for sleeping? What if you need to get up right away and you can’t hear? I could send you a white noise machine? Or is there a fear of hacking with that? I should’ve done more research on this before you left. Tell me if you need anything, I’ll send it out express! Oh, I’m just so happy to hear from you. Keep me posted!

Lots of love, x

12/23 @ 8:53pm

You and me, hot date tomorrow night at 11:45pst - don’t be late. (And look cute.)

Your Bradley

12/23 @ 8:55pm

I’ll be there 😉 Love you, x

12/25 @ 9:56am

Bradley Bradshaw you absolute sneak! How on Earth did you pull a Christmas miracle off!?! Mary said she had no clue, so I’m extremely impressed you got my dad to keep that secret!? I was totally not expecting another present from you? The cooking lessons and apron were more than enough - to say nothing about moving in together!?! I love the bracelet so much, you have no idea. I started crying when I opened it! Mary took a video, which I’m sure she’ll send you. God, Bradley? You didn’t have to do that! It’s perfect, it’s like we’re locked together. I’m gonna wear it everyday. Please email me later if you get the chance!

(Also, Lauren looked really jealous 😉 my brother was sweating)

Love you and Merry Christmas Rocketman! x

12/25 @ 11:38am

Ummm, not sure what you’re talking about, kid? That sounds like something Santa would do? Probably heard about how good you’ve been this year? x

12/25 @ 11:40am

Thank you, I love it so much and wish I could give you the biggest hug and kiss right now. I’ll have an extra slice of babka for you tonight, talk soon and Merry Christmas, Bradley! Love you x

12/27 @ 4:49am

I miss sleeping next to you. Whenever I can’t sleep, I think about the way you looked at me in the living room after our Christmas party. You looked so happy and I hate that I have to leave you for all our firsts. First Christmas, first New Year’s, first Valentine’s Day. And god, sweetheart, you’re so fucking gorgeous it makes me want to lose my mind sometimes. Always thinking about you, Bradley

12/27 @ 8:38am

I miss sleeping next to you, too (especially since your body is like a furnace and you hold me close when I get cold). And I know you being away during the holidays is hard, but look at it this way - we’ll just have our firsts next year. Next year will be our first Christmas, first New Year’s, first Valentine’s Day together, not an ocean apart. We have all the time in the world, rocketman. Love you today and every day x

12/29 @ 6:02pm

There’s already so many things I’m dying to tell you and stories about the squadron we’re teaming up with, but the Navy will have my ass if I give away too many details so I’m just going to leave it at this: are we sure Max doesn’t have a twin on another continent? Take that as you will. What’re your plans for New Year’s? Your Bradley

12/30 @ 9:20am

Sorry for the delayed response! A minor issue with my brother and my dad that I won’t bore you with had the whole house in a tizzy. Thankfully, he and Lauren are gone even though my dad still won’t tell me what the issue was? Anyway! God, I wish I could hear more about Max’s twin? I am honestly kind of scared about knowing there’s a Max doppelgänger in the Navy (jokes!). For New Year’s, I’m going to this party with Mary and dad in the city, it’s at this fancy venue and I have a cute black dress! It’s very different for me and I wish you were here to see it! I’ll have to wear it again. Message me when it’s the New Year your time! Love you! x

01/01 @ 12:09am

Happy New Year, sweetheart! They had a little party for the officers - we even got cake and Bob snuck me and Payback seconds somehow. It’s always the quiet ones you gotta look out for. You absolutely need to send me pictures of you in that dress, I can’t wait to see it on you in person someday. Hope you have a great time with your dad and Mary, give them my best. Love you and again Happy New Year!

Your Bradley

01/01 @ 12:01am

Happy New Year, Bradley!!! You got cake!! You broke some rules! I approve! Milk them for all the cake they’re worth! I’ll send some pics of the three of us and one just for you big boy 😉 Talk soon and love you so so much! x

01/01 @ 10:59am

Had a late start! Here are the pics from last night! Try and sneak some more cake xx

[mary_and_dad_being_annoying.jpg]

[me.jpg]

01/02 @ 6:12am

You know you labeled the pictures wrong…luckily no one was behind me…

01/02 @ 9:04am

Who? Me? I would NEVER! (Just trying to keep you on your toes.) Hope the flying is going well and you’re staying safe, B! Love you!

01/03 @ 8:00pm

Yeah, it’s going well. It’s so different flying on the open ocean after so long? Last time was in September when I went to Hong Kong. The desert is cool, don’t get me wrong, but seeing the clouds and the water together is unreal. The pink and purple clouds remind me of you (sorry, that was lame). You still gotta let me take you up, kid. I’ve heard Mav is trying to convince you, but you gotta let me be the one. Can’t trust just anyone with my girl. Love B

01/04 @ 10:13am

Bradley…he’s practically your father, I’m pretty sure you can trust him to take me up in a plane, you silly boy. Not that I’m saying you won’t be my first…but come on! And it’s not lame. I like that the pink and purple clouds remind you of me. Every time I see a plane I send a little call out for your safety. Gotta keep you safe, rocketman! Talk soon and love you! x

01/06 @ 4:45pm

My parents just dropped me off at the airport and no matter how many times I leave them, I always cry. I think the only time I didn’t cry when I left their house was when you were with me over Thanksgiving. You always make it better, bubs.

They’re coming down in a couple weeks to help me start packing, anything in the house you wouldn’t want them to see while dropping off boxes? I can still bring my old bed, etc for the guest room, right?

All my love, x

01/06 @ 9:58pm

I think I get that, having you around this time makes it different. I’ve never had anyone to really write to while I’ve been away before. Sure, I talked to my grandparents when they were still around and my aunts and uncles, Nat, Ice, and a couple others, but not like this. And I don’t ever want to not feel like this again.

I’m an open book, kid. Ain’t got nothing to hide. And yeah, anything like that feel free to bring with you for the guest room or office. It was the bed, nightstands, and dresser and then your couch for the office, yeah? We can get new bedding and pillows for it if you want? I’m on comms blackout for a couple days, so message me whenever you want so I can read them all when we’re back online.

Your Bradley

01/06 @ 10:07pm

Perfect! Love you and stay safe, rocketman.

01/06 @ 10:09pm

Love you too, kid.

01/09 @ 6:11pm

Bradley, I don’t mean to alarm you, but there was a raccoon in your garage! Scratch that, a FAMILY of raccoons!??! I’m sure Mr Harrington was ready to call the cops when he heard my scream. They’re so cute, but also terrifying at the same time? So, I called Pete and he came right over, a true knight in shining armor! Amelia and I did a THOROUGH sweep of the house to make sure they were relegated to the garage. Pete got them out safe and sound with a random tennis racket and your 4 iron, but somebody’s coming tomorrow to check on how they got in there. And I know they aren’t hurting anyone, but I just don’t want there to be any issues later on? (The babies were actually so cute and reminded me of my cat growing up, Porter.) Anyway! Enough drama for tonight, I hope that gets a laugh out of you - talk soon!

Love you! x

01/10 @ 8:05am

Well, the exterminator got here around 7:30 and sprayed all this stuff and blocked the hole in the crawl space of the garage. He showed me pictures and let me tell you, there was quite the nest up there. These raccoons were living large over the holidays.

01/12 @ 5:21pm

Okay! I’m in the parking lot, waiting for my first cooking class to start. Is it weird I’m a little nervous? I hope everyone else’s skill level is similar, I don’t like feeling behind. I brought my new apron, ironed it and everything. I feel a little like Ina Garten, isn’t she just divine? Okay, okay, I’m going in now! I’ll let you know how it goes! Thanks again for getting me these xx

01/12 @ 7:03pm

I feel so tired? Like my hand cramped a little bit? We started off the class with knife skills, which we’re going to do every week and then made this “simple” egg dish, which was NOT simple and I overcooked the egg. Ina would be so disappointed. Alas! Onto next week. Love you!

01/15 @ 9:12pm

Bradley you’re not going to BELIEVE what just happened on Succession. My heart is POUNDING? Do you think if I called and asked really nicely the Navy would get an HBO subscription for everyone? That is what I would like my tax dollars to go towards. Can you get me a direct line to someone in charge please? Love you!

01/16 @ 7:47am

Not to worry my little Barefoot Contessa, I have returned back to civilization (ie the internet), though am dismayed to have missed this mind blowing Succession episode? Has Perry Mason started back up again or will we be able to watch that together?

Bob and I were in the gym earlier and he almost dropped a dumbbell on my foot, I swear my life flashed before my eyes. But I had a new PR on the bench press today, up to 285 pounds. Glad the cooking lesson went well though! What’s the class makeup like? x Bradley

01/16 @ 9:04am

I’m glad you’re back online and safe! Perry Mason has not started yet, though I’m still certain you’re the only person under the age of 55 that watches it (I guess I should say we’re the only people under the age of 55 that watch it, but whatever). You’ve also missed a couple Top Chef episodes, but we can always binge this season later.

There’s about 12 of us in the class and it’s pretty evenly split? Though there’s tragically this really annoying couple who were at the station next to me. I hope we get to change next week, I don’t think I can watch them feed each other food another week.

And I’m still waiting for that direct line to the Navy, Bradshaw! Love you! x

01/1 6 @ 6:59pm

Wait, wait, how did I miss there? There was a WHAT in my garage? A raccoon? Multiple raccoons? We need to get a dog or a cat or something. x Bradley

01/18 @ 7:02am

Bradley!! I know we talked about a trip once you got home (provided you still feel up for it with the transition and all), what if we went here? I was talking about our tentative plans with my dad and Mary before I went back to San Diego and they went to Punta Mita this past fall and LOVED it! What do you think? Love you!

01/18 @ 6:03pm

Holy shit! That looks absolutely amazing, yes I’d love to go! Can we afford that though? It looks expensive? xBradley

01/18 @ 6:05pm

YAY!! Ahh, I’m so excited you have no idea! I want to hug and kiss you so bad right now! We can fly for free since I have a bunch of AA points (thank you pwc) and then I have like a million Amex points, so it’s not full price!!

01/18 @ 6:12pm

When you say ‘like a million’ do you actually mean a million or?

01/18 @ 6:14pm

Yes! I’ve had this card for like 15 years! My whole family does the pooling on it! It’s a drop in the bucket, promise! Plus, I always use my other card for work and that has a whole bunch of Bonvoy points on it, too. We could stay at one of those? I think there’s a St Regis next door?

01/18 @ 6:22pm

Sweetheart, I want to go, I just don’t want you to waste all those points on this.

01/18 @ 6:26pm

What if we go for 6 nights instead of 9? Maybe no plunge pool? Or we could pay cash instead? And then I could get 6x the points from paying that way? So, really….the points just keep accumulating, we’ve got to use them sometime! The points can pay for the flights and the hotel and then we can split the room charges and incidentals 50:50?

Will you think about it? You don’t have to give me an answer right away and we can always pick another hotel? But if we want to go someplace in late March/early April, I think we should book soon with spring break and all? Not that I imagine many coeds will be staying at the Four Seasons, but you never know…

01/18 @ 6:33pm

You gotta send me a ppt on all this points stuff, you know math stresses me out. And no, I don’t think many coeds will be staying at the Four Seasons, kid.

01/18 @ 6:37pm

Can I send you a dossier with everything!?! Even if you say no to that I’m doing it anyway ;) just promise me you’ll think about it, please? I’ll do whatever you want, Bradley <3

01/18 @ 6:40pm

Yes, please send the dossier my way henceforth, Moneypenny.

And you’ll do whatever I want, huh? Might have to send you a dossier of my own now…

(But yes, I promise I’ll seriously consider everything. I just don’t want you to feel like you have to spend all this money to make me happy. I’d say we’d both be happy camping out on the beach, but I think that might be a security issue down there, plus neither of us like camping - anyway, you know what I mean.)

01/18 @ 6:43pm

Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw!! Is this a dossier for my eyes only? What will M say!? I’ll send you mine if you send me yours?

(But seriously, thank you! I’ll send you more specifics tomorrow - like pricing and whatnot - and you can take a couple days to think it over. And thank you for clarifying the camping thing, I was worried for a second there.)

I love you so much rocketman and we’ll talk (email) tomorrow

x Moneypenny

01/18 @ 6:46pm

I’d say ‘sleep tight,’ but that’s a given considering you haven’t been fucked in a couple weeks.

(Perfect, I genuinely am really excited about it, just want to make sure it works out for us both.)

Love you so much, kid

Your Bradley

01/18 @ 6:58pm

Bradley Bradshaw!! You did not just say that over a government email server!

Imissyourcocksobadlyit’sdrivingmeinsane

01/18 @ 7:01pm

Couldn’t help it. Plus, we both know it’s true.

01/18 @ 7:04pm

Oh, shut up. Shut me up

01/18 @ 11:43pm

I’m sorry if I came off too strong about planning earlier, I might’ve gotten a little carried away and been a little too eager about planning something five days after you’re home from a three month detachment. If at any time before you come home or even right after you come home you don’t feel up to the trip, please please please tell me. I want to do something nice for you and give you a chance to truly relax, but I’d hate for it to come at a price. So, just let me know, okay? Say the word and we’ll push it, alright? I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, but tell me if it’s ever too much. I’ll always be here, promise. Love you x

[dossier_for_your_eyes_only.ppt]

01/19 @ 8:29am

Kid, no. I promise I’ll tell you. You know I love how excited you get planning things. I think I like it so much because you take care of it all. Sure, you ask for my opinion and what I want, but I just have to tell you one thing, one idea and you take care of it.

Funny though, isn’t it? How it’s totally opposite in the other side of our relationship? You tell me one thing, one idea and I take care of all of it? Bet it’s hard for you not having someone around to do that for you? Maybe next time we Facetime we can talk more about that? x B

01/19 @ 10:11am

Luckily, I have a very creative imagination, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw.

See right now, I’m in my office, sitting at my desk, feeling so overwhelmed. It almost hurts how overwhelmed and frustrated I am. And you bust down the door, hair windswept like you’d flown to Del Mar, and you have that slutty flight suit on and I don’t even mind that you’re sweaty and gross. You smell absolutely divine and I rake my hands through your hair as you eat me out underneath my glass desk. I get a conference call, but you don’t stop the entire time. You like how squirmy and fussy I get, I can’t focus on the deliverable I’m working on for the client. You like that I can’t control myself, that I squeeze my thighs around your head. Eventually, you can’t take it anymore, your cock is aching so badly, and you need to fuck me on top of my desk. You’re so strong it almost breaks. You fuck me so good everyone in the office can hear me crying out for you.

(actually, I’m on the couch, watching college football, but it’s more fun to imagine you fucking me in my office - see, creative imagination! Make sure you get a quiet room for that Facetime...)

Love x

01/19 @ 7:29pm

You think you’re funny, huh? You have any more of those thoughts, feel free to send them my way. ‘m taking out that picture you gave me for Christmas right now. How you taking care of yourself? My imagination isn’t as creative as yours. B

01/19 @ 7:40pm

Guess you’ll have to wait for our next Facetime…

01/20 @ 4:24pm

Your dad and Mary write me emails, you know. They aren’t as good correspondents as you are (for how could they possibly be, my dear?), but they check in about once a week or so. Mary sends me some of the articles she gives her students and talks about the show she’s watching with your dad. Your dad mainly talks about you. It makes me wish my parents were still around to do this stuff with me. Just checking in and writing emails and bragging about me to my girlfriend? How was yesterday’s class?

Your Bradley

01/20 @ 5:39m

I didn’t know they wrote you that often and I’m beyond embarrassed that my dad talks about me that much? But come on, Bradley…you have someone who does that, too? He’s about 5’8” (on a good day), looks great in a leather jacket, and just spent about two hours last weekend cleaning your gutters and telling me about how you won your high school’s debate scholarship?? Like how could you not tell me that? It’s literally one of the hottest things I’ve heard about you!

Class was good! They taught us a trick to cut onions without crying and one of the other girls complimented my apron! We’re doing meats next week, cutting, marinating, cooking, etc. and I’m excited!

01/20 @ 5:42pm

Oh gee, I bet it’s just awful for you to have Mav around all the time. Knight in shining armor…

01/20 @ 5:48pm

He��s not a bother! And it’s not all the time! We’re actually going to get lunch together on Saturday! It’s this new place on the water.

01/20 @ 5:50pm

Sounds like a cute little date! You’ll have to tell me how he is. Love you so much B

01/20 @ 5:55pm

I’ll keep ya posted, bubs! Love you!

01/22 @ 10:01am

Breaking news, kid. Your esteemed, naval aviator boyfriend is going to be on 60 Minutes at the end of February. Totally came out of left field, but I couldn’t say anything until they finished filming. It’s about the Navy in the Pacific and “the lost art of shipbuilding.” They even rigged up a camera on my plane and everything, it was so cool. I’ve been dying to tell you, but again couldn’t say anything until it was official. I probably won’t be on it long since they interviewed the Admiral and Pac Fleet Commander for most of it, but yeah, Payback and Bob and I will be on with my girl Norah. I made sure I had enough sunscreen on so I was camera ready at all times. Love you B

01/22 @ 10:09am

YOU’RE FUCKING SHITTING ME????? Oh my god, Bradley! That’s amazing! Margie even ran into my office to see what made me shriek! I am TOTALLY having a viewing party! Oh my god, how do you think it went? Did they get your good side? What about hair and makeup? I know you get helmet hair, bubs.

Seriously, so so excited and proud of you, Bradley! I’m going to make my dad and Mary come down for it! She doesn’t teach on Mondays, so this is perfect for them to stay over Sunday night! But now don’t go letting all that fame get to your head, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw 😉 Love you so much x

01/24 @ 12:17pm

Rocketman -

I was sitting at my desk earlier and listening to some music before my 12:30 meeting and Elton John’s Rocket Man popped up on my shuffle. Obviously, as you are my rocketman, I always think of you whenever I hear it, but today the lyrics really scratched that special part of my brain, so I did a deep dive into the song’s origins.

Please note, I’m including this time in my billable hours to the client (re. you). My findings are as follows:

Bernie Taupin was inspired by a Ray Bradbury story written in 1951 titled ‘The Rocket Man’ - not drugs as the urban legend states! Drugs! Imagine!

Bradbury’s ‘The Rocket Man’ was first published in Maclean’s, a weekly Canadian magazine, before it was published in the short story collection ‘The Illustrated Man’ that same year

‘The Illustrated Man’ later was made into a film, though ‘The Rocket Man’ story was notably absent

Some of more popular and renowned stories from the collection include ‘The Veldt’ and ‘The Long Rain,’ the latter of which is commonly read in high school honors English

Was client in honors English? Please confirm in follow up correspondence

Client has mentioned extensive library resources at disposal - perhaps he can check this collection out on his next visit? But for now, an executive summary has been provided:

With space travel more commonplace in society, Doug’s father, an astronaut, is sent on frequent, three- month journeys into space

Despite missing his dad, Doug also longs to be a Rocket Man, though his mother frequently prevails on Doug to beg his father to stay on Earth and be with the family

“What’s it like, out in space?” Mother shot me a frightened glance. It was too late. Dad stood there for a full half minute trying to find an answer, then he shrugged.“It’s the best thing in a lifetime of best things.” Then he caught himself. “Oh, it’s really nothing at all. Routine. You wouldn’t like it.” He looked at me, apprehensively. “But you always go back.” “Habit.”

The father finds that his work is ruining his life, but the draw of the stars is too great: "You don’t know what it is. Every time I’m out there I think, if I ever get back to Earth I’ll stay there; I’ll never go out again. But I got out, and I guess I’ll always go out.”

Even while on vacation with the family, having Thanksgiving dinner, or sitting on the back porch, the father’s eyes are always on the sky…

Doug’s father begs him to not be like him, to not be a rocket man, but what happens when his father goes on one last journey to the stars?

Through much reflection, I have decided that ‘The Rocket Man’ was written about you - and your mom and your dad and me and on and on until there is no longer a need for Rocket Men - or the rocket man simply stops and breaks the cycle

You are both the Rocket Man and the little boy, forever waiting for his father to come home from space

The allure of flying, of being a ‘rocket man,’ is both too great and too sad for you to ignore

None of this is to say the rocket man is selfish, no. He simply cannot resist the temptation. He knows nothing other than the thrill and peace of being amongst the stars

And his mother shielding Doug from the sun at the end is like your mom asking Mav to pull your papers, she does it to save him, but it cannot keep him from becoming his father

Needless to say - I had to postpone my 12:30 meeting until tomorrow as my eyes were far too puffy and any word I tried to say felt like cotton in my mouth.

I miss you and I love you - your ‘Lilly’

01/24 @ 8:22pm

Fuck - I love you so much. My clever girl.

01/24 @ 8:28pm

I pour my heart out to you and that’s all you have to say, rocketman? ‘Fuck - I love you so much’

(of course, I also love you so much, my clever boy.)

01/24 @ 8:30pm

Darling - it’s going to take me a little longer to come up with any commentary you deem appropriate, so for the sake of time, yes. I gotta read this story in full. I’ll be at the library at my earliest convenience. ‘The client’ will send an annotated copy with his notes henceforth.

01/24 @ 8:32pm

Of course, sweet boy. Goodnight, I love you so much. x

01/25 @ 11:44am

As promised, my darling girl. Love you.

[b.bradshaw_the rocket man_final paper.pdf]

01/25 @ 7:14pm

Oh Bradley! I love you so much, rocketman. Yes, I couldn’t have said it better. Yours x

01/26 @ 10:39am

Bradley! They’re sending me to London in February for two weeks! I even get a swanky corporate apartment for the stay. I wish you could come with me - even if it was just for a long weekend? We could go to all my favorite restaurants and afternoon tea and for walks in all the parks. One day it’ll work out!

But tragedy of all tragedies! I just realized I’m going to miss a couple cooking lessons when I’m in London! I already emailed the instructor before today’s class and she said there’s other classes throughout the week that are behind us, so I can make it up with them! Ahhh I’m so excited! Talk soon, love you!

01/26 @ 11:13pm

I didn’t realize how nervous I was about the trip until I went to bed tonight. It’ll be my first trip abroad since I got my promotion in November. Plus, it’s a completely different client than my last trip abroad and I’ve only met one person on this new London team before. Sometimes I go into these meetings and still feel like a little kid? I’m always the youngest person in the room and normally the only woman and on one hand, that’s cool? But sometimes I feel like someone’s daughter instead of their colleague? Like these guys are my dad’s age? And they’re actually supposed to listen to what I have to say about their company? Do you ever feel like that? Like you don’t really belong, despite knowing you’ve earned your place? I wish you were beside me right now. My bed feels way too big tonight. Love you.

01/27 @ 7:48am

Sweetheart! I am so unbelievably proud of you! That’s amazing! You gotta celebrate, go out to dinner with Caro and Darcy, maybe even Nat! I know you’ve been working so hard these last couple of weeks, you absolutely deserve this. I can’t say I know exactly what you’re going through, but yes. I have absolutely felt like I haven’t belonged or deserved something despite having ‘checked off all the boxes.’ I felt that way when I got promoted to LC and when I got that award in October. Everytime I see it on my uniform, I feel a bit like a faker? Like do I really deserve this? But then I remember the way you smiled at me when I got back to my seat that night and how proud of me you were and I think maybe I do deserve it? Plus, I also think of how goddamn gorgeous you looked all fucked out later that night.

And please note, I would happily slip into bed alongside you, especially since my bed feels way too small tonight. Love you, Bradley

01/27 @ 10:56am

Thank you for earlier. I don’t know, sometimes I just feel like I’m just too soft for all of this? Like I’m always trying to prove something to everyone and I get a little lost. Tell me something good? x

01/27 @ 7:01pm

How about this? Every time I go up in the sky and see the way the sun hits the clouds, I think of you. I’ve never wanted to be with someone as much as I want to be with you. I love you so much, kid

Your Bradley

01/27 @ 7:06pm

Sometimes I can’t believe we love each other this much, it feels like a dream x

01/27 @ 7:11pm

I can. Your Bradley

01/30 @ 7:08am

i slept in one of your shirts last night. it doesn’t smell like you anymore, but it feels like you: soft and safe and warm x

01/30 @ 7:23am

Well I spray my pillowcase with your perfume whenever I miss you so I guess we’re even

Your Bradley

ps - can you send me another bottle?

01/30 @ 7:34am

You’re already out? What sort of illicit behavior are you engaging in with that perfume bottle?

01/30 @ 10:33pm

I burrow my face in my pillow so I can smell it while I fist my cock, why? What’d you have in mind?

01/30 @ 10:37pm

How does that work though? Like genuinely? Do you jack off with Rueben in the top bunk? Or wait till he’s in the gym? I’ve been curious about this for a while now. What about the showers? Is it like an open floor plan thing? Or are there stalls? Is there a Zillow listing for this aircraft carrier?

01/30 @ 10:41pm

Now why would I ruin the mystery?

01/30 @ 10:43pm

Bradley!!!!

01/30 @ 10:44pm

Atta girl, that’s the spirit! Love you

02/02 @ 6:30pm

I am so sick of going to the gym. It seems like it’s all Payback and I do lately. We got this new workout regime that’s been killing me - don’t say it’s because I’m old. Though, I have been using my Theragun. Payback does my back if I do his in return. It was only awkward the first time he turned it on too hard and yelped (please tell everyone that).

02/02 @ 6:46pm

Oh, so you and Rueben Theragun each other, huh? Say more Lieutenant Commander!

02/04 @ 2:45pm

Going to Pete and Penny’s in a bit to watch the Super Bowl! Max is at the game, apparently his golf buddy Jimmy G hooked him up, though he neglected to bring me or Caroline. I feel like you would’ve been his first choice, so take that as a compliment I suppose. Do you guys do anything onboard for it? I have $350 on the 49ers winning by 3. Have a lovely day my darling boy x

02/04 @ 9:30pm

Guess who’s as snug as a bug on a rug in her bed AND $1400 dollars richer? That would be me! When you get home we’re going to Juniper and Ivy, my treat, bubs! x

02/06 @ 4:57am

Awww sweetheart are you gonna sugar mama me again?

02/06 @ 7:03am

You do know the only reason you’re getting away with that is because there’s an ocean between us, right?

02/06 @ 6:00pm

Sorry, couldn’t resist! Love you! B

02/06 @ 6:10pm

You’re lucky I love you so much. x

02/08 @ 9:58pm

Can you imagine if I was gone for 20 years?

02/08 @ 10:11pm

Bradley that’s not funny

02/08 @ 10:13pm

It’s not supposed to be. I’m reading the Odyssey and it got me thinking.

02/08 @ 10:16pm

Bradley I love you something awful, but you are such an old man sometimes.

Are you going through some sort of midlife crisis reading the Odyssey while you’re at sea?? Is the Old Man and the Sea next?

(ps i love the thought of you reading in your bunk in your spare time and being so struck by something composed thousands of years ago that you have to email me)

02/08 @ 10:20pm

They wait 20 years to get back to each other - practically half their lives. They miss so many things and barely knew each other before he left, but they’re still so - I don’t even know? They’re just so intent on getting back to the other in Odysseus’s case? While Penelope makes sure there’s something for him to come back to? And I must’ve read this stanza ten times before I had to email you:

"...the gods cast me upon Ogygia, Calypso's island, home of the dangerous sea nymph with glossy braids, and the goddess took me in in all her kindness, welcomed me warmly, cherished me, even vowed to make me immortal, ageless, all my days - but she never won the heart inside me, never"

And I know it’s not a perfect comparison or parallel, but I read that last bit and I couldn’t help but think of you? And how you’re the one who won my heart and it’s always going to be that way. Whether I see you in twenty seconds or twenty years.

02/08 @ 10:23pm

You’d come home to me whether it took twenty seconds or twenty years. You’d come home to me and I’d know you anywhere. I love you so much.

02/08 @ 10:58pm

“Now help me, please, to get back home, and quickly! I miss my family. I have been gone so long it hurts.”

Your Bradley

02/09 @ 7:03pm

At the airport for London! Taking off! And I may or may not have used points to upgrade to a Club World seat…but like? It’s a nonstop flight, so it’s okay, right? Work’s already paying for business class? It’s points from my work card? It’ll be fine, right?

I had to take an ativan in the lounge. I just hate that I still get so nervous whenever I fly long distance? I fly all the time, I shouldn’t be like this? You know, one time, I pretended you were flying my plane. I know it’s kind of dumb and silly and a completely different type of plane, but it made me feel better because you’d never let anything happen to me.

Anyway, we’re book buddies!! I went to the bookstore a couple days ago and got a copy! I read the Odyssey back in high school, but forgot so much. I was reading in the lounge and this part made me think of you:

“...this lovely house, my marriage home, so full of wealth and life, which I suppose I will remember even in my dreams.”

I’ll text you when I land my darling boy, love you x

02/10 @ 6:02am

You gotta squeeze every last bit of your per diem out of pwc. You’ve been working way too hard lately. Fuck it, on the way home just put the upgrade on your work card or put it on mine. Have a safe (rest of your) flight - maybe one day you’ll let me take you up. Love Bradley

02/10 @ 10:08am

Just landed and on my way to the office (already…)

I thought of you as I read and stared out the window on the plane. I could pretend I’m flying towards you, rather than further away. I can’t imagine how you feel doing this everyday, but I imagine it’s like feeling limitless, like everything is in front of you, there for the taking. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll let you take me up one day.

I’ll keep you posted on how everything’s going if you do the same. All my love x

02/12 @ 5:49am

How’s it going, kid? They working you too hard? You’re in London! Try to enjoy it, you deserve it. One of the guys I’m with gave me a restaurant recommendation for you, said the drinks were amazing, his wife loved it. Do something fun while you’re there! And send me some pictures dammit!

Love you,

Bradley

02/12 @ 8:22am

Bradley! It’s been so so crazy here! I feel like I haven’t stopped since I landed. My ‘flat’ is so cute and right by the client’s offices, so it’s an easy commute. I feel so professional taking the Tube places too! It’s one thing I’d like us to have in San Diego as opposed to all the traffic. Also, it’s CHILLY here and I’m so glad I dug my big coat out of storage. I’ll try and check the restaurant out this weekend, I’m gonna sneak in a trip to the Tate, too. I’ve always wanted to see the Turners. Talk soon and love you bunches! x

02/14 @ 9:54am

Bradley Bradshaw! You absolute SAP! HOW!?! Did you conspire with my dad again? Thank you for the flowers! I’m going to have the biggest smile on my face all day. I love you and hope this is the first of a lifetime of Valentine’s Days together. Always x

02/14 @ 7:33pm

Happy Valentine’s Day to you too, kid. I’m not gonna lie, I gave your dad very specific instructions for the bouquet (I was going to ask Max, but he’d probably swap it for something ugly and cheap and keep the change…kidding (not)), so I’m glad they turned out well. It was a very big day on board today: we got special red heart cookies for the holiday. The mood was infectious, I can still taste the sprinkles. Maybe you could cook for me on our next Facetime? Have you learned anything good in class lately? It doesn’t have to be fancy, just wanna see you (and maybe also live vicariously through whatever you’re making).

02/14 @ 7:33pm

Bradley! I think I can swing that for you, when do you think our next call will be?

02/16 @ 3:18pm

Kid, you spoil me. This package is amazing, I don’t know where to start (just kidding it’s with the Cadbury chocolate and the Sudocrem as my burnt shoulders thank you), but everything is wonderful, thank you. I love hearing about London and seeing the pictures you sent last time. But I do have one complaint…you’re not in any of the pictures, kid, and that’s truly egregious. (Think we won’t be able to Facetime for a while, I gave Payback my slot the other day.)

02/16 @ 3:23pm

That’s not true! I’m in the one in front of the Tate!

02/16 @ 3:25pm

Yeah, but I can’t see you under all those layers! Just want to see your face. It’s been way too long since our last Facetime.

02/16 @ 9:52pm

As requested, Lieutenant Commander. I had one of the girls in the London office take this at dinner tonight. She really did wonders with the lighting and even managed to get my sidecar in the pic! x Love you

02/17 @ 6:55am

You look pretty. New dress? B

02/17 @ 7:17am

Maybe…it was on sale, couldn’t resist. But you’re gonna hate me because all of my clothes are very much not going to fit in your closet. Also, I bought you a new jacket and some socks. x

02/17 @ 7:20am

Ehhh I’m not too worried about the closet thing. But if you keep buying me clothes we might have a problem.

02/17 @ 7:24am

It’s so cute though!! You’re going to look so handsome in it! I got the green one for you!

02/17 @ 7:29am

Okay, admittedly a very nice jacket, thank you. But you are aware that we live in San Diego…

02/17 @ 7:31am

I am aware of that fact, LC Bradshaw. You can wear it when we visit my parents. Hell, I had to get my coat out of my storage closet for this trip.

02/17 @ 6:53pm

Sighhhhh you raise a good point. Alright, alright, thank you for the jacket and socks my darling girl. What’d you have for dinner last night? We had chicken with these absolutely awful biscuits, tasted like saw dust, my stomach was growling for some more of that Cadbury chocolate (yes, Payback and I ate all of it already, though it was mainly Payback) for hours afterward.

02/17 @ 6:59pm

Oh my sweet boy! Who do I need to call about your meal plan? Give me the number and I’ll call the Navy up right now. And I had scallops with truffle risotto. It was delicious. Wanted to lick the bowl clean. Love you bubs x

02/19 @ 10:22pm

Bubs, I cannot eat another meal out. I feel like I’m going to burst. I’ve gone to so many work dinners and lunches even before coming here, it almost makes me feel like a glutton.

I miss you and your cooking (though I’ll have you know that my skills were vastly improving before my trip abroad!) and you standing behind me at the counter while I try to perfectly cut peppers. Sometimes I do it wrong on purpose so you’ll put your arms around me and I can feel the rumble of your voice. Would we call that weaponized incompetence? You better be ready for some Michelin Star meals when you get home, buddy. I just can’t wait to be home with you and roll over next to you in the morning and to tell you to stop snoring and that the battery in the smoke detector needs to be changed. I can’t wait to be home with you and make a life with you. I’m going to be really sappy now, but let me have this because I was reading this poem the other day and thought of you.

“I am supposed to be touched. I can’t wait to find the person who will come into the kitchen just to smell my neck and get behind me and hug me and breathe me in and make me turn around and make me kiss his face and put my hands in his hair even with my soapy dishwater drips. I am a lovely woman. Who will come into my kitchen and be hungry for me?” (x)

Only a month until you’re home with me, I hope you’re hungry.

All my love x

02/20 @ 4:50am

It’s only weaponized incompetence if the other person minds. I, however, do not mind. I loved that quote you sent me, going to be thinking about that one for a long time. I hate to tell you this, but I’m gonna be offline for a couple days. I hate that it’s at the end of your trip, but please please message me when you’re leaving/taking off and again when you land, you know I worry. Love you and am so unbelievably proud of you, kid! You killed it in London. Your Bradley

02/20 @ 7:03am

That’s okay, I totally understand. I’ll give you all the details on our next Facetime. In the meantime, I message you when I leave. Stay safe and love you, Bradley! x

02/23 @ 3:45pm

Taking off soon! I got an upgrade again, thankfully! And I made sure to put your new coat in my carry on - I don’t trust British Airways not to lose it! Taking an ativan again so hopefully I’ll sleep the entire flight - love you and talk soon!

02/24 @ 10:33pm

Just landed, slept through….90% of the flight! Apparently, there was bad turbulence, so probably for the best. Now, I know you would never have me deal with that my darling rocketman! Talk later - love you! x

02/25 @ 7:09pm

Feels kind of weird being back? I can’t quite get back into my routine. I’m not sure if it’s jet lag or something else? Feeling a little lost? x

02/26 @ 7:55pm

Bradley!!! You were so good, I’m so so proud of you! Max had everyone over at his place for us to watch you! We have quite the party here including my parents, Pete, Penny and Amelia, Natasha, Mickey and Cielo, Caroline, and Darcy. I’ll have to tell you about the parents meeting later. I wish you had been here for it, they took to each other like bees to honey.

You looked tragically handsome, I practically had to hold back a moan when you were standing on the flight deck talking to Norah O’Donnell (is she as nice in person as she is on TV?). God, I want to ravish you, you sounded so fucking smart. You know like half the country is going to be in love with you now, right? I’ve got to get back to everyone, Max ordered dinner for us afterwards, but I had to email you as soon as you finished!

Just wanted to let you know how proud of you I am and how much I love you x

02/27 @ 5:09am

Thanks, kid. Sorry it took me a bit to respond, things have been getting a bit crazy, you know, now that I’m a celebrity and all? We’re winding down this training, so the next couple weeks are gonna be full of debriefs and paperwork, which means I should have a more stable schedule. Love you B

02/28 @ 11:48pm

Sometimes I wonder if you were here what would you do? Hold me? Love me? I never feel small except when I’m in your arms. x

02/29 @ 11:48pm

Some nights in bed, if I try really hard, I can imagine I’m laying down next to you. And it makes everything just a little easier. Bradley

03/01 @ 12:56am

I haven’t taken anything besides my fingers in months. You’re going to stretch me out so well when you get home.

03/01 @ 7:19pm

And I’m gonna mark your ass pink for that comment. I can’t believe you sent that in the middle of the day. You getting yourself off at work? Dirty girl.

03/01 @ 9:41pm

Never feels as good as when you do it.

03/01 @ 10:01pm

And my hands pale in comparison to your pretty little cunt. You know that first time we slept together you were so fucking tight, I knew you hadn’t had a good fuck in ages. It gonna be like that again when I come home?

03/01 @ 10:05pm

Where are you going to have me first?

03/01 @ 10:06pm

In our bed, in our house, after you make me dinner in our kitchen.

03/01 @ 10:09pm

Just over two weeks now, I can’t wait to see you. x

03/03 @ 5:55am

How you holding up, kid? You doing a little better this week work wise? Try and log off around 5 if you can. Don’t want you getting all worn down on me.

They had us doing these war games yesterday that made me think of you. You would’ve walked circles around some of these other guys I swear. Think I can get a Facetime for us in a couple days? Probably will be our last one before I come home. Love you, B

03/03 @ 7:12am

Bradley! That's the best news I’ve had in ages! I can’t wait to see you! Definitely felt a little lost after coming back from London, but I hope my rut will be over soon? Tying things up with a client is always so lengthy and tedious.

War games! ‘Would you like to play a game?’ I’d ask if you won, but no one ever wins in the art of war 😉Love you!

03/05 @ 8:54pm

So, here’s a new one. My mom called? She’s going to be stateside and wants to get lunch tomorrow. Could’ve done with a bit more warning, but apparently, she has a layover in San Diego on her way to New York to see my brother? I didn’t even know she was going to see him? I don’t even know if I want to see her? It’s funny, I can already tell you exactly how it’ll play out:

We’ll go to lunch at some sort of vegan restaurant, probably Donna Jean

She’ll make me pay

She’ll try to get me to use some sort of herb to promote weight loss since I’m looking a bit “pudgy” around the face

Though she’ll forget to ask about you, she’ll tell me about her latest string of failed relationships with bartenders and surf instructors in Canggu. Or is it Ubud? I genuinely don’t remember, she started in Ubud, but honestly my knowledge of Balinese geography is rudimentary at best

She’ll ask how ‘that woman’ is doing as if Mary is just the woman my dad is seeing, not the woman who raised me and my brother

And finally, she’ll ask for money though betting is still open as to what for!

So, what do you say? Wanna put a wager on it? Your terms.

Love you! x

03/06 @ 6:30am

$100 she orders the caesar and makes you pay. I’m not even going to entertain the third parlay, pretty girl. Oddly feeling like she’s got a winner on her hands so yes she’ll talk about her new paramour. Does she really call Mary ‘that woman?’ And yes, without a question, she will ask you for money.

Your move my gorgeous girl,

Bradley

03/06 @ 7:49pm

I really wish you were here right now. She doesn’t even know me, but she somehow always manages to make me feel small.

Caesar - no croutons

I paid

Pudgy and frumpy, but she was hawking shakes not herbs

Failed relationship? No, she’s actually GETTING MARRIED

She did not ask about you much other than to say I need to watch my figure for you (see bullet point no. 3)

Mary was called ‘that woman’ six times before I stopped counting

She asked for money as a wedding present

So, you didn’t get them all, but not a bad showing. Love you. Talk tomorrow on Facetime. x

03/07 @ 6:09am

God kid, I’m so sorry. She doesn’t know what she’s missing. Actually, I don’t even think she deserves to know what she’s missing. Did you talk to your dad or Mary about it? I know we’re talking later, but I just wanted you to have a message from me before you start your day. What’re you wearing to the office tomorrow? Have you worn that polka dot dress with the bow lately? You know it’s one of my favorites and that I always love unwrapping it when you get home from the office.

Can’t wait to see you tonight. All my love, Bradley

03/07 @ 9:55am

The dress doesn’t fit. My mom was right, I shouldn’t have gotten the french toast.

I’m planning on talking to dad and Mary later today before you and I have our Facetime. I know they’ll make me feel better, much like you have my darling boy, but it still feels pretty crummy. Especially since I’m sure she’s going to have wonderful time in New York with my brother 🙄 and I’ll have to hear all about it next time I talk to him.

And I’m not sure if I’ve unpacked that dress yet! I’ll have to do some digging. Talk soon! x

03/10 @ 3:26am

We had a little baby. He was always giggling and laughing and we were making silly faces and he looked so small in your arms, Bradley. So small and little and he was ours. And then I turned around and he was toddling around the house and we were chasing him and his little legs were moving so quickly and we all wound up on the couch in a tangle of limbs, giggling under the blankets as we tickled him and he called you daddy.

It wasn’t our house - or what will be our house, I guess? Instead of the leather couch you have, it was white and big and wide and the three of us could easily fit on it, snuggled together.

And I could feel your arms around me, rocking me back and forth. I could feel you humming in my ear and kissing my neck and telling me you loved me. I could feel it. I could feel you. I could feel him and you. And it was nice and I felt warm and safe and cherished and loved. Because I felt so much love for this little boy in my arms - the perfect mix of me and you. Everything felt right and perfect.

Except when I rolled over in bed to tell you about it, I realized I was alone in my bed, in my apartment, and not in the house that we shared or with the little boy that looked so much like you and I haven’t felt so empty and sad since I can’t remember when.

And I just miss you so much, Bradley. I know I can come across as glib and unfeeling sometimes and like this doesn’t affect me as much. But it does and sometimes I feel like my heart is going to burst because I’ve never felt like this for anyone else before? It’s never been so easy for me to love someone and let them love me to the point that I always want to be beside them. And I know with your job - and mine - that can’t always happen, but god Bradley I wish you were here right now so you could hold me and tell me you loved me because I just want to feel your arms around me and know you’re real. I want to tell you about the little boy - the perfect mix of me and you.

I love you rocketman x

03/11 @ 12:49pm

I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. I realize that’s a lot to drop on you, especially since we can’t talk in person. I guess I’ve just never missed a person more in my life and seeing that future showed me what we could have when you come home. God, Bradley I want you to come home so badly. I want you to stay here with me forever and never leave and to have that cute little boy who was the perfect mix of me and you and to have you here in my arms every night. And I know it’s selfish of me to ask or even make you think about it, but I want you right here - in twenty seconds, not twenty years.

How did your hop go today? x

03/11 @ 7:03pm

I have dreams like that, too. I’ll be little, but still older than I was when my dad died and we’ll be at the beach, running around, and he’ll pick me up and spin me around like I’m flying on an airplane.

But then it’ll be me and my kid, running around and I’ll pick them up and spin them around like they’re flying on an airplane. Sometimes it’s a girl, sometimes a little boy. But I always just can feel and tell that I love them and I’d do anything for them.

And I used to hate waking up alone after I had them and I’d feel empty and sad and like I had the feeling that they should still be there? Except now I have you and I know it doesn’t just have to be a dream?

Sorry it took me so long to reply. Today was hectic and I didn’t get to check my email until later. But if I checked it earlier, my day would’ve been a lot easier on my heart.

All my love,

Your Bradley

03/12 @ 7:11pm

How do you always know exactly what to say? I’m sorry for springing that all on you, know it wasn’t exactly a quick/easy message, but I love that you knew exactly what I meant. My day’s always a lot easier on my heart when I hear from you, too. Love you x

03/13 @ 10:17pm

i miss having you around to take care of me. and telling me what to do and what to wear for you and how you want me and where you want me and when you want me and and and. and how good i feel around you as you come, how you take what’s yours. how i need you to take control and tell me what i need because i’m too much of a dumb slut to figure it out on my own. i need you so much bradley. and it’s so hard because i’m trying to take care of myself like you do and imagine what you’d do if you were with me right now. but i’m so frustrated since no one takes care of me like you do. i feel so empty. nothing stretches me out like you do, nothing makes me feel as small as you do, nothing makes me flush like the sound of your voice against my neck as i come, nothing soothes the ache inside me like you do. need you to call me good girl, pretty girl, sweet girl, anything as long as it’s yours.

i need you i need you i need you i need you bradley bradley bradley bradley

3/13 @ 10:39pm

Awwww sweetheart, did you get yourself all worked up over me? It’s okay, I know it’s hard for you all by yourself. Must’ve been real bad for you to risk this getting flagged, huh? Poor thing, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.

Want you to pretend I’m next to you, leaning over you as you lay down and touch yourself. Say yes Bradley, more Bradley. Bradley, Bradley, Bradley. Good girl.

Want you naked under the covers, no frilly little pajama set or anything. No, I want your cum to stain the sheets and then for you to have to clean up in the morning, all embarrassed because you did this. You made yourself like this because you can’t control yourself without me around. All that cum being wasted. Nobody around to lick it off your pussy. So what doesn’t get on the sheets, you have to taste. Good girl.

Want you to use your fingers - only your fingers, I’ll know if you use anything else. Start with your breasts. Think of how perfectly they fit in my hands and how yours aren’t quite the same. They aren’t as big. Aren’t as strong. Play with your nipples, drag your nails across the soft skin on the underside of your breasts.

Want you to sigh my name as you slide your hands down your stomach towards your pretty little pussy. Have you shaved? Gotten a wax? You know how I like it, want it just like that when I get home. Pretend it’s my fingers sliding into your cunt. A few touches and you’re already clenching on air and I’m not even around.

In and out, in and out. Circle your clit with your thumb. Add another finger, then another. You rocking your hips yet? I know you’re soaked. I know you want more. Three fingers can’t stretch you out nearly as much as you need. But I don’t know if you can handle anything else without me around. And I know you would never disagree with me, right? Because you’re my good girl and good girls do what they’re told.

Don’t hesitate to get loud. You’re in our house, in our bed, you can be as loud as you want. Bet you’re getting close, huh? Try and last a little longer, can you hear yourself and how wet you are? Are you shaking yet? I know you’re close. Go ahead, speed up your fingers, just the way I do. It’s okay, you can come. Know you’re gonna get sleepy soon, wish I could sleep inside you, nice and tight.

Now say thank you Bradley. Good girl.

03/14 @ 5:49pm

Thank you, Bradley. Thank you for taking care of me last night

You like chicken piccata, right?

03/14 @ 7:33pm

Yeah, kid, I like chicken piccata.

03/14 @ 7:39pm

Okay, that’s good. I’m going to make it when you come home. I ran it by my cooking instructor. Ina’s recipe of course.

(I’ve read your email seven times since you sent it. I’ve thought about it constantly. I want you to take me softly and slowly that first time. But after that? I can’t wait to let go and float. Love you so much x)

03/15 @ 6:09am

You’re the boss. Good thing I’ll be home soon, you’re gonna run out of material. As is, I had to type that last one with one hand.

Love you,

03/15 @ 7:21am

I’ll be good till you get home, promise.

Have a good day, do you think we’ll get to talk much from now till Friday? Love you x

03/15 @ 7:24am

I’ll hold you to it.

I don’t think so, might be able to send one out before leaving the boat. Better make it a good one.

All my love

Your Bradley

03/15 @ 7:25am

You got it! Love you bubs

03/18 @ 11:08pm

Kid - there’s this lyric that keeps running through my head: ‘and I want you right here.’ I want you beside me - today, tomorrow, all my days. I want you right here, beside me forever. In twenty seconds, not twenty years. See you tomorrow.

All my love,

Your Bradley

03/18 @ 11:11pm

See you tomorrow, rocketman. I’ll be the one in blue.

Love you x

a/n: thanks for reading! i'll be back with part ii and part iii (hopefully not in...4 months). i had so much fun writing these and getting to explore a different format and side to their relationship! thanks to alexa @sometimesanalice, kylie @ofstoriesandstardust, cass @notroosterbradshaw, elle @dissonannce, nik @cherrycola27, and loren @heartsofminds for all the support!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster imagine #bradley and smart aleck #top gun imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x reader

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queers-gambit · 1 year

Text

When Pride Married Prejudice part two

[ part one ]

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: moments at the beginning of your marriage.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 8.6k+

warnings: cursing, nothing but filler and fluff, marriage smut, stop giving author internet access cause literally what is this ? not edited.

Your wedding was something small by other royal comparison, but neither you nor Aemond seemed to mind; he was the one who wanted it much smaller, but the King was feeling festive. So, the whole of the court was invited - minus your family, which felt glaringly obvious.

You married in the Sept and hosted a banquet in the Red Keep's Great Hall. The King hummed along with the music, tapping his fingers in rhythm, before exhaustion set in and he was being escorted back to his rooms. The Queen departed soon after, and your new husband lead you away rapidly right after that. Behind you, there were a few inappropriate comments hurled your way; but Aemond was quick to shield you from them.

He moved his body as if to physically protect you from their vile words, an arm protectively around your waist to guide you forward; your first sign of his deep-running loyalty.

When you got to your new shared chambers, you found the room in disarray - gasping your shock and wondering if someone had ransacked his room. "Were you robbed?" You had asked.

"No," his cheeks flared, "I was trying to move things around, make room for you, but I realized I did not know what you would arrive with, so, it has come to... This..."

"So, what I'm hearing is that your room needs organized, huh?"

He smirked at you, "I'll order us some wine, but yes, if you'd like," he gestured you forward.

That perhaps was your second sign of his unwavering support of you.

The third was when, during your room-rearrangements, he promised to not share your bed, "unless you ask me to."

His hands also idly toyed with your own, the two of you facing one another; his fingertips tracing down the scar on the palm of your hand. He was quiet as he did, but you weren't bothered - he was usually always quiet.

Anyways, your marriage wasn't consummated that night, but you got to know Aemond on a much deeper level after proposing a drinking game where you each told three statements - two that were truthful, and one that was a lie. It made you both snicker gently and lounge on the bed together after the room was put in relative order.

He did not share your bed, as promised, for a full week after your wedding; but he spent time with you after his training sessions in the courtyard. Apparently, his mother thought it important you and he bond, so, Aemond was excused from afternoon lessons in favor of spending time with you. You both liked to stroll through the gardens, sometimes with a book shared between you both; other times, with an escort through the city streets.

But only eight days after your wedding, there was a rapid knock at your chamber door, and just as you rose from your vanity to answer it, your husband was entering. He swung around to shut the door and lean on it for a moment, making you smirk. "Well, hello there. Nice fo you to pop in, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, my Lady," he sighed, shaking his head, "but Aegon was being his usual self and I needed to get away - then apparently he followed me and I didn't need him seeing me waiting..."

You nodded, "You know, you're allowed to stay here, too. I would not put you out."

"I do not wish to crowd you."

Your shoulders shrugged, "I think I'd like it, actually."

"Oh?" He breathed.

"Sure," You nodded in agreement. "I mean, we should get used to one another, should we not? I do not wish to put you out."

"Lady - "

"Please, stay?" You pouted dramatically. "C'mon, maybe I'll let you do my hair, huh?"

He chuckled and pushed off the door, glancing at the hand you outstretched. Aemond slowly reached for it, taking a moment to breathe before speaking softly, "I did not mean to interrupt you."

"You're not," You assured softly. "I was getting ready for bed, but between you and me, I'm kinda into this book right now."

"So, you're not tired?" He smirked slowly.

"I'm almost afraid to answer that," you eyed him up and down. "Why?"

"Perhaps you'd like to get dressed? We can sneak out," he sighed some. "Think I could use some air, thought perhaps a walk around the city would do us both some good?"

Your grin slowly stretched as you considered his offer. "All right, yeah. But we go in disguise."

"You think we'd walk around, bare?"

You shrugged and moved for the wardrobe. "I only mean to show you some places and it wouldn't be exactly proper if word reached the palace of our misdoings."

"I thought I was sneaking you out?"

"You are," You assured with a grin, "but perhaps I'll show you a thing or two while we're out."

"All right," he sighed, nodding softly and wiping his palms on his pants nervously. "Whatever gets us out of here."

"What did your brother say that upset you?" You asked, eyeing him slightly before moving for the changing screen. "C'moooon, I know you wanna tell me. I can see it on the tip of your tongue."

He chuckled some, "He's just tiresome."

"Noooo, really?" You mocked gently as you changed from your nightdress into something plain.

"We were at dinner..."

"Mhm."

"And he had choice comments about something that doesn't pertain to him in the slightest."

"Might I ask what that was, husband?"

There was silence as you laced the trousers on. "Our marriage," Aemond finally admitted.

"Hmm," you considered, situating the tunic. "And what was said? What were these choice comments?"

Aemond sighed heatedly, "Something - I don't even know. It was about how you won't let me near you, how this marriage is like all others and it's a farce, telling me to get used to you being absent - and that my one obligation is to put a babe in your belly, but it was the way in which he spoke that drove me up the fucking wall."

"Mhm."

"As if he even gets an opinion on this..." Aemond ranted as you stepped out from the screen, moving for the vanity again to wrap your hair up in a tangle of scarves. "As if his own marriage isn't some sham!"

"Is it?" You wondered gently.

"They were betrothed as children, Helaena's never known different but Aegon does as he pleases - no matter his marital status."

"So, your older brother doesn't respect you," you sighed gently, still fixing your hair to hide it. "But you know what's different now?"

"Hmm?"

"You've a wife who does," you turned to smirk at him, hands dropping to slap your thighs gently, "and Aegon can be jealous all he wants. It's not gonna be a concern of ours, we don't live the same truths."

He paused for a moment, nodding, "You're right..."

"But when you're feeling stressed," you offered your hand again with a grin, "your wife is here to sneak out with you for a bit of fun."

He chuckled and took your hand with his, "We'll need to stop at my room."

"Kinda hate that, but okay," you mused gently, letting him lead you from what was supposed to be your shared quarters. However, just as you were about to pass into his room, Amira rounded the distant corner, and your husband called for her.

"Could I ask for a discreet favor?" He asked, opening his door to lead you both inside.

"What is it, my Prince?" Amira asked, looking you up and down. "Oh, no, you're sneaking out, aren't you?"

You only shrugged with a broad smirk, making her sigh as your husband found his cloak. "Might you bring my things to our room?" He asked your hand maiden.

"Oh," she blinked, nodding, "yes, of course, my Prince. Um...?"

You smirked at her, "I didn't realize the lengths my husband went to to ensure my comfort, so, I've invited him back to our rooms."

"Oh, that is good to hear," she breathed, patting your shoulder. "All right, yes, I'll move your things, my Prince. Might I ask the reason for discretion?"

"Aegon's a dick," you shrugged, making Aemond say your name in reprimand. "What? Am I wrong?"

"Well, no - "

"So, that's the reason," you told Mira, "and we'd appreciate Aegon, you know, not knowing about this, so discretion is paramount."

"I gotcha," she winked, nodding with assurance. "I got this... Yeah, I got this... This is nothing..."

"Mira?"

"Hmm?"

"You got this?" You checked, Aemond tucking his hair beneath his hood.

"Oh, yeah, for sure," she sighed, waving you off. "Just be careful tonight, please. The city's changed, Princess, lots of crime has gone up in rate. Stay close to your Lord husband."

You chuckled, "Maybe I'll save his arse, you never know."

"You'll probably start a fight and he'll have to rescue you," she laughed you off. Aemond offered his hand silently, leading you to a hidden passage at the back of the room.

It was easy enough to sneak through the back passages of the Red Keep, and you quickly realized that this must've been common enough for Aemond - given how well he knew his way around. When you broke free of the Keep, you breathed deeply.

"All right?" Aemond checked, tightening his hand in yours.

"Mhm," you assured, needing to jog slightly to keep up with his long legs and quick pace. "Where to first, Princey?"

He chuckled dryly, leading you down around a few turns. "Perhaps a drink?"

"Hmm," you considered, peaking around alleyways.

"No?"

"I didn't say that," you chuckled. "But could we go this way?" You pointed.

"Why?"

"There's a few fun vendors this way," you smirked, leading him away. For the remainder of the night, you and Aemond crept around King's Landing - hopping around taverns, and you're pretty sure you didn't stop smiling once since leaving the Keep.

Aemond seemed different, too.

He was quiet, still. But he was relaxed, kept a hand on you at nearly all times. He chuckled when something was funny, smirked when someone made a fool of themselves, but mostly, he sat beside you all night. His legs straddled the benches to keep you close to his body, and you'd feel his idle touch as time passed.

Touches to your hand, waist, ribs, back, shoulders, and once even, he smoothed his hand over the back of your head in an affectionate gesture when you had made a particularly funny joke.

It was as if your warm touch reassured him.

So you did not mind, and in fact, found you reveled in it. It was your first real indication that his love language was primarily physical touch and while words did not come easy, his touch lingered.

And when you snuck back into the Keep, the ale you both consumed made your steps clumsy and for you both to snicker as you tried to shush each other. When you fell into your room together, you noticed Amira had, indeed, packed the Prince's things and moved them into your rooms.

It became a comfort that for each night the following five days, Aemond would read aloud from your book as you organized his belongings and clothes around the room. He liked pausing to consider the passage read, making the both of you bicker gently - even if he didn't have a varying opinion, he liked pushing you to see how far you'd go to make a point. You caught onto his game and didn't find it as annoying as when Jace or Luke did it.

Then came your first 'family' dinner that you'd attend at Aemond's side. He paced nervously by the window, watching the sun sink, and you perused your wardrobes for something to change into.

"You're nervous," you mentioned softly, laying a gown out to the bed.

"A bit," Aemond agreed.

"Is there reason, husband?"

He sighed, turning from the window with hands behind his back. "Father's not doing well..."

You nodded slowly, "He's been on a decline for quite some time now."

"And now it's enough for Mother to call for weekly family meals," he sighed, wiping a hand down his mouth.

"'S all right," you assured, "might be kinda nice."

"Nothing's really nice with Aegon around," he frowned, shaking his head to send some strands of gloriously long hair around his shoulders.

"Still mad about what he said?"

Aemond sighed, shrugging some. "In truth, I am unsure what I feel."

You nodded slowly, "That's alright. Family's a confusing matter."

"It is," he eyed what you had laid out for him.

"Yet, I must ask for your forgiveness," you smiled at him, stepping closer as he slowly turned to lower himself onto the bed. He reached for you, taking your hands to pull you between his wide-set legs.

"For what, my wife? I have not been wronged," he sighed, fiddling with your fingers.

"I have let you endure this alone the past two weeks," you spoke gently, slowly raising your hands to pet over his silver locks. "That's not what a wife does, hmm?"

He let his own hands raise to gently wrap around either of your wrists. His eye examined the one as his fingers caressed your skin, leaning in to gently press a kiss to the appendage. "It is of no trouble," he told you, "because you're here now, yes?"

You smiled at him, "Yes, I am here now. The support of a wife, something your brother does not know - should you need to use that to your defense."

He chuckled and tugged you so your hands went to his neck and his own settled heavily on your waist. "Something tells me with you there, wife, I will have little reason to defend myself."

You chuckled at him, giving his cheeks a quick squeeze, "Yes, yes, you get a wife and personal attack dog - aren't you lucky?"

"Terribly," he smirked, leaning forward slightly to rest his forehead against your stomach. He groaned, "Must we go?"

You chuckled and let your arms wrap around him in a hug, folding slightly to peck the top of his head. "Yes, we must. C'mon, it will not be for long."

He sighed, "Might I use you as an excuse?"

"Depends on the excuse used," you teased gently.

"Hm... What if I cited newlywed duties?" He picked himself up to stare up at you with a growing smirk.

"I think I'd kill over from embarrassment," you gasped, nudging his shoulder; making him grin at you. You found, each day, he loosened up - but always tensed up when others were around. When it was just you two, my Gods, he was entirely different; making you feel grateful that you could see him as such.

He sighed and let his hands settle back on your waist, "All right, maybe not. But, perhaps, I could say it to Aegon? Yes?"

You chuckled, hands caressing his jaw to force his eye to your own. "All right, yes, but do not let your Mother hear - please. Or Father. He's still my Grandsire and while I know he knows what happens in a marriage, he does not need be reminded."

"All right, deal," he agreed, sighing again.

"It will not be so bad, come now, we should change," you chuckled, gently pulling away from him. His hands fell from your body, and you instantly missed the warmth.

Though, after changing behind the screen, his hand was back in yours to lead you from the room. You swung your conjoined hands gently, smiling at him when he offered you a curious look. He ended up cracking a smile, unable to help it, but quickly sobered up when you arrived at the private dining room.

It was mostly just an outside terrace with a long table, but it made do for tonight's gathering. And with the fortunate weather, you were almost excited for the meal, if only for the location.

Aemond lead you both in stoically, and surprisingly, you were the last to arrived. Even Viserys beamed, teasing, "Well, this is a surprise."

"Apologies, Your Grace," you offered instantly. "We did not realize the time."

"No, no, no need, I was once newly married," he chuckled, waving you offer as both you and Aemond froze momentarily. You were quick to laugh at the King's joke, and with your hand to Aemond's arm, discreetly directed him towards the only two chairs left at the head of the table. Apparently, it became Aemond's common seating arrangement after the loss of his eye, but you didn't mind much.

Otto was in attendance, and Heleana greeted you happily; all but jumping from her seat when you neared her. You kissed her cheek in greeting, giving her a loving squeeze.

Aegon looked mildly annoyed but hid it behind his cups of wine, slouched in his seat; and making you ponder what seed he came from, since surely, it was not Royalty.

"Here," Aemond muttered to you, dishing something onto your plate. "You've gotta try this."

"It looks strange."

"Just a taste," he nodded, smirking at you. You sighed, eyeing the food with disinterest. "Come now, you mean to say you do not trust me?"

"Well, that's a loaded question."

He chuckled, "Let this be a test, then. Go on, just a taste. For me?"

"Well, way to guilt me," you teased him, nudging his arm before taking a taste from your fork. You pondered the feeling on your tongue, manicured hand over your lips as you chewed and considered the flavors. "It is... Strange."

"Is it?" Aemond smirked.

"I do not think I dislike it," you nodded at him, "though, I am unsure if I like it, either. Hang on," you moved for another bite, and before long, you'd finished the bit he'd spooned to your plate. "What was that?"

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, "You told me on our wedding night you fancied those mangoes from Pentos, did you not?"

"I did," you nodded, narrowing your eyes at him at you glanced at the dish. "Do not tell me..."

"Apparently, stewed mangoes is popular over there," he shrugged a bit, glancing up to his family to ensure they were all still in their own conversation. They were.

"Would you do me a favor then?"

"Hmm?"

"Bit more?" You smirked, nudging your plate once. He chuckled and reached for the dish, dolloping another spoonful before you scooped a bit of rice to your plate and mixed them together.

"How's that?" He wondered in genuine curiosity when you tasted the new dish.

"You know what?" He nodded at you. "I don't hate it. Here, try it."

He nodded slowly and took up his own fork to try a bit, making your head cock in wonder as you waited for his opinion. "'S not terrible," he agreed with you, chuckling dryly before reaching for his goblet.

"So," Viserys boomed down the table, making you jump slightly. "How is married life treating you both?"

You smiled at the King, "You've raised your son well, Your Grace." Your eyes cut to Alicent, knowing she was who truly raised the children. "Married life is... Going well," you glanced at Aemond.

"Like a built-in companion," he mused to the table, taking a sip as Viserys chuckled.

"It is good to know you are getting along," he granted. "Surely, we'll see your face more often, Princess?"

"Of course, Your Grace," you agreed.

"Good," he nodded, smiling lightly.

"Unless my brother actually manages to get it up," Aegon snickered into his, oh, maybe, third cup in an hour? "Then, we'll never see you, will we, sister?"

"I'd mind my tongue, Aegon," you mused, taking another small bite of your meal. "Might start to sound jealous. Though, we know your brother has the injury and one less eye, you've always been jealous of him, heaven't you?"

"Aegon," Alicent warned when his face heated in anger.

Aemond chuckled a bit and let his hand drift to hang off the arm rest. You silently reached for his hand, finding relief when it fell naturally to your lap - turning over for you to hold. The other hand rose his goblet again.

"Do you think you'd like to take lunch sometime this week?" Heleana asked you, leaning over. "I've some questions of my own," her voice lowered to explain.

"Sure," you agreed easily, nodding at her with a smile.

Aegon rolled his eyes, "Oh, what questions could she answer? She's been married all of two weeks."

"I wouldn't take that tone, brother," Aemond warned.

"Boys," their Mother snapped. "Not now."

"Not ever, hopefully," You offered a sweet smile with your words.

"I'm not quite sure how it was done in your Strong Family," Aegon sneered, sitting up in his chair, "but here, we - "

"If your only means is to insult a silly rumor pertaining to my family, then, I'm afraid you might want to silence yourself," you chuckled, staring your uncle down with anger burning your gut. "You are only making my point for me."

"Please," Alicent asked of the whole table, "can we not get along for a single meal?"

Your hand tightened in Aemond's, asking him, "Surely, this is not common?"

"What, sweetheart?"

You paused at the use of the nickname, finding you enjoyed it more than you should - before finding your voice again, "Your brother thinking it is appropriate to speak in such a manner?"

He smirked at your tactic to publicly embarrass his brother, nodding at you, "You will grow used to it, sweetheart, I promise."

"Hmm," you mused, leaning into his arm more as his hand released yours in favor of holding your inner thigh instead.

"So," Otto cleared his throat, "how're you finding the city, Princess?"

"Very well, yes, thank you," you assured with a nod of your head. "Aemond and I might've gone out almost everyday this past week."

"The weather held," he shrugged a bit, cheeks heating at the knowledge that his family knew he was soft on you. It was obvious, if the time together was any indication.

"It was nice," you assured, one hand holding his forearm and giving a squeeze. "I'll have to take you sailing some time."

"You know how?" Otto asked in surprise.

"Yes, my father and his father took me out," you smiled softly. "Taught me how to fish, too, if you'd believe it. Never thought I'd live long enough to watch Corlys Velaryon fish for his own meal. But I must admit, it was incredibly satisfying. Father and I caught this sort of tuna," you told Otto - who was staring at you with the slightest amount of pity, "it must've weighed some 80 pounds." You chuckled at the memory, sniffling lightly, "Father and I nearly fell in trying to wrangle that bad boy from the waters."

It was quiet for a moment before Aemond cleared his throat, lowering his voice, "We did not yet find the time to extend our condolences for your father, my wife. And how sorry we all are for your loss."

"Mother got your letter," you nodded softly. "But thank you for verbalizing it."

With a returning nod, your husband tried to focus on his meal; but before you could, his sister was starting a new conversation. He was quiet most of the remaining meal, just content to listen; and any time Aegon got lippy, even Alicent started to sit back - because your wit outmatched all of their own. You easily fended the boy off.

Heleana simply adored you, and let that be known.

Viserys was oozing pride, as if taking personal responsibility in the match made between you.

Alicent smiled and actually asked a few questions to better know you.

Otto was just as ever - kindly, old, and soft spoken. He also knew some really good riddles that you liked to try and work out - his grandchildren giving up on most of them. Imagine your surprise when you asked, "Is it a mountain?"

And Otto beamed, "Yes! Dear girl, yes! I've been telling that riddle for months and none has solved it!"

It was an overall nice dinner, but truly, by the end, you were exhausted from keeping appearances. There were a few times you wanted to snap at your brother-by-law, but held your tongue; doing little to hide the irritation in your tone when you shut him down.

When Viserys was taken away for bed, Otto escorted Alicent away, and to your surprise, Aemond ushered you to your feet, "C'mon, come with me."

You let him pull you by your hand, jogging again to keep up with his long strides. When you were out of the dining room, you looked around and wondered, "Why're we in a rush to get to bed?"

He chuckled, shaking his head, "Got something on my mind."

"Wanna share?"

"In our rooms," he nodded, glancing at you only as he kept his quick pace - ignoring your whine of annoyance. The moment the doors opened, he pulled you in and shut them after you - pushing your body against the wood as his nose pressed into your neck.

"Aemond," you gasped in shock, holding onto his shoulders; not pushing him away.

"I-I wanted to let you come to me," he rushed, hands bruising your hips. "Yet I do not think I can wait longer."

"What changed?" You smirked, petting over his cheeks as he nuzzled your neck. You wanted to feel his mouth, but he did not dare yet - showing an ounce of restraint.

"Dinner," he sighed, sounding as if he was straining. "Watching you with them all, Gods... I know I am not who you wanted, but I think I need to start giving thanks for having a wife who can keep up."

"That got you going, did it?" You smirked against the shell of his ear; hands petting down his neck. His hands tightened and your hips rose up the wall to let his growing bulge press into you. Your breathing stuttered as his head lifted to leer over yours, your fingertip ghosting over his bottom lip.

"In truth, it's been hard to give you space," he breathed, "but yes, my wife, seeing you with my family was enough for me. You showed no fear in talking to the King and Queen..."

"Hmm?"

His lips pulled in a smirk, hands moving up to hold the base of your ribs. "It was impressive," he whispered, "and listening to you put Aegon in his place? Lady wife," he chuckled, slowly letting a leg raise to press between your thighs, "that did something to me I cannot explain nor control."

"Power turns you on, does it?" You chuckled.

"Only a bit," he nodded, "now," his thigh pressed more securely, "might I kiss you, Lady wife? Or might you haunt me further?"

You chuckled, but he clocked your nod before surging forward to connect your lips in a searing kiss. You let out a shrill whine when his hands drove you down onto him, his bulge more prominent.

"Aemond."

"Tell me, sweet girl," he spoke in your ear, letting his tongue flatten against skin that made you moan, "what it is you want."

But worry knotted your stomach.

"Wait, wait," you pulled back as much as you could, but pushed his shoulders some; making him pull away.

"What's wrong?"

"It's just," you sighed, head thumping back to the door in exasperation. You sighed through your nose.

"You can tell me," he nodded, lowering his leg to give you room to breath. His thumbs started to swirl comforting circles around your hip bones. "You want me to trust you, but it goes both ways, pretty girl. Speak your mind."

"Well, for one, in truth, I think I prefer being called pet names rather than the name my mother gave me," you chuckled some, hands drifting down his chest.

"Noted," he nodded, leaning in to rest his forehead on your own. "Come - tell me what bothers you."

"I've not done this," you whispered. "I worry it will not be satisfying."

"With the way I've been ramped up the past two weeks, there is little you can do to dissatisfy me," he chuckled. "Though, might I tell you a secret?"

"Mhm."

"Think you got me started the day you saved my life," he whispered, "and I never even thanked you for it."

"We share blood, Aemond, I would not have walked away. You needed help, and I knew how to give it."

"Thank you," he nodded, sighing. "I never got to thank you for what you did, but I am grateful."

"'Twas a dramatic night, there was little room for anything else."

He hummed before telling you, "Look, you do not need to worry, this is another learning experience for us to endure together."

"Oh, you must 'endure' laying with me?" You whined, heat flaring up your chest and neck.

"I did not mean that," he relented softly. "Only that I am no expert, either, but this is something between us - something we will learn to do together. As husband and wife."

You sighed, nodding, "Just be patient."

"I know it does not mean much now," he let his lips peck over yours, "but this is between us, sweet girl. You can do no wrong with me."

You sighed, "You say that, yet..."

"Yet?"

"I do not know of a single marriage where either, nor both, were ever happy. I fear that this could be a partnership, but not much else. I understand you've an obligation to sire children, but I am only nervous - "

"You do not need to be," he sighed softly. "It's just me."

You nodded, brows crinkling gently. "It's just you..."

"Your husband."

You nodded, "My blood."

"I am not here to wrong you, nor harm you," he promised. "And while I agree, I do not know of a marriage myself that has been... Happy... I do know that marriages are between spouses, and we get to not just make our own rules, but play by them, as well."

You sighed gently. "How you've been without a Lady all this time is beyond me. You might be the sweetest man I know, and my father was Laenor Velaryon."

He smirked against your lips, letting you gently pull his cheeks to kiss him to time. "None ever bothered to try and know me," he whispered. "You are different, pet, and you always have been."

"You are different with me," you noted, nose rubbing up his. "Why is that?"

He sighed, "You... Provide me with a sense of safety, I think. It is difficult to explain - "

"'S not," you smiled at him, "because I understand perfectly well. I fear I might feel much of the same, as well."

"Hmm," he considered, "that is good. I would hope my wife feels safe with me."

"I do," you nodded in assurance. "That if you'd like to move for the bed, I would not disagree..."

"Are you sure?" He asked, frowning.

"If you're willing to take this slow?"

He chuckled, "As slow as I can bare."

You laughed against his lips, leaning in to trap him in another kiss. "I have to admit..." You pulled back to peck his lips, "You're mildly addicting to kiss."

He grinned, licking over your lips slowly. "Might find more than my kisses addicting,"

"Oh?" You laughed, holding onto his neck tightly as his own arms snaked around your waist to hold you against him. He sighed, nuzzling into your neck as a hand pet down the back of your head before settling around you. "All right?" You whispered.

"Mhm," he hummed, "just appreciating the feel."

You smiled against his temple, laying a kiss there as the mood in the room shifted; and his hands bore the weight of the world. "Aemond?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you show me all of you?"

You felt him pause against you, but his sigh was sad, "Not tonight."

"But would you?"

He nodded as he pulled back; leaving your cheeks brushing against one another. "One day," he sighed, making your heart plummet in sadness. The abuse the boy endured was more than you were willing to admit, but you'd try to understand it best you could and offer him comfort. "For now, let me see you," he whispered in your ear, the fire crackling behind you both as the room flickered and glowed in the light. You did not protest when his hands rose to undo the laces at your back; pulling apart to loosen your gown.

You feared he would not like what he found, but your resolve was crumbling as his mouth opened against your neck. You moaned faintly as his hands easily yanked behind you, freeing more of your flesh for him to grab at.

He pulled back first but you could not meet his eye. His fingers tipped your chin up to let your eyes meet, breathing one breath as his lilac gaze raked you in.

"You're absolutely stunning," he whispered, holding your gaze, and making you feel like he was staring through you. But his eye did not drop from your own as his hands pulled at your dress, freeing your shoulders and upper body.

Your lungs shuddered in nerves as you helped pull the garment down, freeing your breasts, and then down to your hips. His hands moved, his eye did not; only bowing to his knees to hug your waist, looking to the floor, and pulling the clothing from your hips.

Your hands shot back to hold your position against the wall; keeping balance as Aemond freed your legs of shoes, stockings, then your hips of any under garment. But he kept his gaze on the ground as he rose, letting your hands mimic his from earlier, and tip his chin so his eyes met your own.

"See me," you requested in a breath; holding it then as his eye soaked in all you were.

"Gods," he breathed, taking half a step back to get the full image. When his eye met yours, it was almost as if he could not stop the words from flooding out, "You're breathtaking."

"We are married, you do not need to compliment me," you teased gently, leaning back to the wall. "Do you need a moment?"

"I might," he mused. "You're incredible... And you're truly mine?"

"That's what the law now says," you teased. "You know, standing here, naked, 's bit cold."

"You don't say?" He chuckled, reaching a hand out to sweep his thumb over your pebbled nipple. But that was it - that was all he did. "Come, lay on the bed, pet."

He turned from you to give you space, bare feet muted over the bare stone as you moved on the balls of your feet. Look - standing in the nude was one thing, but sitting in the nude? That was something entirely, and you reached for a pillow to hold against yourself the moment you reached the mattress - and climbed upon it.

Aemond turned from the window to look you over, then started to undo his jerkin. "You've never been with a man?"

"Never even kissed one till we got married," you admitted.

"So... You're all mine, is it?"

"Seems so," you chuckled. "Though, I am afraid to ask in return."

His head cocked, wincing, "Lost my virginity at ten and three."

"Truly? To whom?"

He freed his upper half of the leather jerkin, revealing a thin tunic. "A whore, no less."

You hummed in thought, watching him undress without abash. "That was it?"

"If you'd believe it," he pulled the tunic off his torso.

"And how is it you've come by scars when there is no war?" You asked, letting the pillow fall to the side in favor for drawing a single leg up and into your chest.

"Same way I came to lose an eye, pet," he sighed, now avoiding your gaze. "Though accidents - no matter how unfortunate."

Your heart weighed to your feet, slowly finding them as your fingers nervously twisted together. He was distracting himself with pouring a goblet of wine, but stiffly turned when your hands deftly asked him to. They smoothed over rigid, pink-going-on-white scars, asking, "Where did this one come from?"

He glanced at your hand on his upper arm. "That was a lancing accident gone wrong."

"Hmm," you nodded. "And this?"

Your fingertips pressed to his pectoral. "Swordplay with Aegon... Gone wrong."

You smirked, "And this one?"

He breathed uneasily as your hand pushed at the scar on his lower belly. "Hmm... That was from a spoiled organ."

"Come again?"

He smirked as your hands rimmed the hem of his pants. "When I was, possibly, oh, maybe ten and five? There is a little organ that, if ruptured, can ooze toxic waste back into the body. Maesters were quick to remove it."

"How interesting," you spoke softly, watching his throat bob as he took a drink. "And this one?" Your lips asked, nearing his ear.

"Which?" But he flinched with a laugh when you bit his neck. It wasn't hard enough to break skin, but against his pale skin, it was enough to leave a small red mark. "Oh, you devil of a woman," he chuckled, letting an arm wrap around your bare waist.

"Apologies, dear husband," you smirked, reaching your arms around his neck to allow your breasts to press into his chest without barrier.

"Perhaps I can be persuaded into forgiving you," he hushed against your lips, licking over them before trapping you in a kiss so searing, it pulled a moan from your throat.

"Just ask it of me," you whispered to him, daringly letting your hands drift when he pulled you in for another kiss; fondling his growing length over his trousers.

He hissed lightly into your mouth, muttering, "Perhaps this will be new for us both, after all... Gods."

You smirked against his mouth, feeling emboldened to now sweep your tongue over his lips and into his mouth; hand solidifying around his neck to keep tight. He blindly set his wine to the table beside him to then press both hands into your warming flesh under your rib cage. His hands pushed, and you were lead back towards the bed; where you were sat on the edge for your husband to gaze down at. His hand cupped your jaw, gently caressing your cheek; yanking the laces of his trousers at the same time.

"Let me," you whispered, mostly curious - reaching for his breeches, and keeping eye contact as you unlaced him.

You fist the material by his hips and yanked down, still staring up at him - even when his cock sprang free to gently bob in your face.

"Fuck," he seethed, reaching to pull your hair back. "Might I teach you something first?" When you nodded, he almost grunted, "You can use your mouth."

Your brows furrowed, "On your cock?"

Aemond let himself chuckle, "Yes, sweet girl. But not your teeth..."

"I think I could've figured that one out, Aemond, Gods!" He laughed with you, but sharply inhaled when your hand reached for his thick member; giving a few curious strokes. "I can ask you something?"

"With my cock in your hand, you can ask me anything," he breathed in tune to your pumping hand, twisting wrist. "What is it, pretty girl?"

Your breath fanned across his public hair, head tilted to gaze up at him and wonder, "It... Will fit?"

He snickered, "Yes, sweet girl."

You nodded, "And are they all... This size... A-And girth?"

"Perhaps not, but I'm not running around, whipping my cock out to compare it to others,"

"Pity," you pouted at him, seeing his teeth flash in amusement, and lean in to take a tentative lick. His hand tightened in your hair and you understood what he meant; slowly, surely, and very sloppily, figuring it out. What your mouth didn't fit, your hand twisted around; and Aemond's knees were slowly buckling.

"Slowly, slowly," he whispered to you, thumb sweeping a tear from your cheek when you tried to take more of him. "That's my girl, good fucking girl," you preened at his praise. "Easy, don't over do it - that's it, good girl. Use you spit - fucking Gods, that's right - there - wait, wait, less teeth, sweet girl - slow yourself."

You listened to him as you went, feeling sweat start to slowly streak down your skin as heat sweltered in the room; skin at the base of his cock turning salty from his own exertion.

"All right," Aemond hissed, nodding to himself as he took hold of your cheeks and pulled his cock from your mouth; leaving a trail of saliva. "Seven fuckin' Hells, girl, I told you I'm not fucking anyone else, you're not in competition here."

You grinned up at him, rolling your eyes right after as you understood his teasing tone. "C'mere, please," you whispered up at him, hands curling around his neck to thread into his hair when he loomed over you. Your lips met in a frenzied mess again before one of his hands held his balance and the other pushed your knees apart.

"Easy," he whispered against you, tracing slow patterns up your inner thighs. "This is where trust comes in, sweet girl. I've got you."

"Yeah?" You nervously checked, nodding at him; hands holding onto him as if a lifeline.

He sighed softly, "I'll always have you, sweet girl. Today, and everyday."

You pet down his chest and tried to relax as his lips met yours again in a frantic mess of lips, tongues, and teeth. His fingers then were dusting up your crotch, and you all but flinched as a jolt of pleasuring electricity shot through your veins.

"Aemond," you breathed as one hand darted out to wrap around his bicep; fingers sweeping up and down your wetted heat. "Gods," you squeaked when he pushed to let his face rest against your neck; arms tight around his neck for anchoring, letting a finger sink deep into you. Your legs opened wider to accept him.

"Good girl," he growled, your hand feeling his arm flex as he started to pump his finger messily through your sopping folds. "So fucking wet for me, Gods. I heard rumor virgins were wetter, but fucking hell."

"Or perhaps it's just for you," you whispered in his ear, holding on tighter as a coil slowly tightened in your lower belly. Almost on instinct, your hips moved to hump into his hand.

"Hmm," Aemond considered, "say that again, but without the perhaps."

You chuckled, pausing for a moment before telling him in his ear, "'M just so fucking wet for you, and only you, my Prince."

"Gods," he groaned, pulling his hand free to straighten up. "On the pillows, love, go on." But you paused to beam obnoxiously at him. "What? What is it?"

"You called me 'love'."

He chuckled against you, leaning in to kiss you happily. "Got issue with that, Lady wife?"

"You will not hear complaint from me, Lord husband," you assured.

"Good - back on the pillows, then." When you pulled yourself back over the bed, he was quick to follow overtop of you; pressing another kiss to your lips as he settled between your legs. "I will warn you, there might be some complaint the first few minutes."

"Oh," you nodded, "yes, I-I was warned of that. And it is common for there to be a bit of blood, too."

"Good to know," he smirked, pecking your lips. "You need only tell me if it's too painful, but it will be before the pleasure takes over. But if it's too much, just tell me."

You nodded and pet over his cheek, promising, "I will."

He smirked, "Spread your legs, pretty wife."

You both paused, shaking your heads at one another, and you deciding, "'Pretty girl' is a solid option, 'pretty wife' sounds strange to my ears."

"Strange on my tongue, too," he agreed. "Pretty girl, it is."

You hummed in agreement, bringing his lips to yours as he helped shift your hips slightly. Then, his cock's head was sweeping up and down your slick - like his fingers had - and just paused to linger at your entrance.

"Hold onto me," he whispered, slowly pushing in - and feeling you instantly freeze.

"Fuck's sake," you wheezed as he went.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"There's more!?"

Aemond was unable to fight off his laughter, leaning down to push his tongue into your mouth before pressing forward the rest of the way - pressing his hips to yours in full.

"Fucking hell," you whispered against him. "Oh, wow, okay, okay..."

"All right?"

"I don't know," you admitted. "Feels very strange."

He nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly. "Tell me when it's okay to move. This will be uncomfortable until you're acquainted, and then it'll feel better - I swear it."

You nodded, "Go ahead."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you whispered, moaning when his tongue swept into your mouth again. "Holy shit - Gods be good," you whined when he began to retract his hips and push forward again; the friction created something mouthwatering.

"Fuck," Aemond panted, humping a little faster. "Ah, shit, you feel fucking divine, sweet girl. Fuckin' made for me."

You readjusted your hips again and let him work at a new angle. His mouth hung open for a few thrusts, eye fluttering close as your hands gripped anywhere they could reach. And with his motions, you started moving your own hips; fucking him back, to his approving groan. His mouth found purchase against your neck, biting, sucking, licking; humming into flesh as pleasure coursed.

"Aemond, fuck, fuck, fuck, harder," you pleaded, letting your knees reach your chest as his hands pushed the backs of your thighs in a new, bruising grip. His balls slapped against the apex of your cunt, creating something of a rhythm amongst the room that met the chorus of your moans, groans, and his grunts.

"Take it," he growled, hands sliding up to hold the back of your knees. His hips were relentless. "Oh, fuck, good girl - 's my good fuckin' girl. Feel so fuckin' good, taking all of me your first time," he smirked down at you, reaching a hand for your throat when he felt your walls tightening as his cockhead pounded into that soft, spongey spot.

You whined against the pressure on your throat - not enough to constrict but enough to feel all the way down into your toes.

"Gods," he groaned when your velveteen walls stroked him for all he was worth, "look at you, so fuckin' ready for me."

"Yes," you whimpered, reaching for his neck to yank him closer. "Please, please - "

"Tell your husband what you need, Princess," he smirked, dropping his lips to stick to yours - and pull apart messily.

You whined lowly in your throat, "Wanna cum."

"Where?"

Your hands shook as you held his cheeks in your grip, "Around you."

"That's my girl," he purred, moving himself at a renewed pace. "Where do you want me, pet?"

"In me," you didn't even realize you moaned that aloud until he groaned from deep in his chest; brows furrowed, and one hand holding himself up as the other dropped to your cunt. "Wait, wait, wait - "

"That's the feeling, my girl," he promised, fingering your pearl. "Chase it, let it come for you - let it come, good girl," he praised, catching your body when you arched into him and came with a soft cry.

"Ae-Aemond," you begged still, eager to please. His hands held your hips in place, face held to your neck; hips pumping relentlessly to chase his own end now. "Please - oh, fuck!"

He came with a shout of his own, hips swooping to thrust into yours once, twice, a third time, then grinding to a slow halt as his balls contracted to release his load in your warmth.

"Shit," he panted, body giving up some to collapse into your own. It pushed his cock further up, making your mouth open in shock; arms coiled around him to keep him against you.

"Yeah," you agreed, letting a hand smooth down his hair. His breath fanned across your collarbones, and readjusted your hold on him to press a kiss to his forehead. "All right?"

"Yeah, yeah, good," he chuckled, pecking his lips up your neck. "Are you all right?"

"Mhm," you nodded at him, noses brushing together before his lips met yours - again - slowly. "So, that's what we've been avoiding?"

He smirked, "Well, you've been avoiding, Lady, and I've been dreaming."

"How'd it match up in life?"

Your husband offered a soft smile, "'S like you're a dream come into my arms. If there is a heaven, I think I've found it."

"Oh, please - "

"No, truly, Lady," he nodded, letting his lips peck yours again. "Here, with you, I am at peace."

"Then make a bargain with me?"

"Cock's still in you, so, ask anything of me - 's yours."

You giggled lightly and rolled your eyes as he fixed himself up to his elbows to keep the pressure off your chest. "Spend some time alone with me in the next few days?"

"Lady - "

"No, I mean, let us take a period of time away from everything and just," you shrugged a bit.

"Hump?"

Your eyes rolled, "I was aiming for something a little more poetic, but sure, yes, yes, stay with me and fuck me properly."

"My Lady wife," he teased, "I did not think you so brash."

"You've not been paying attention," you teased. "Please?"

He chuckled through his nose, nodding as he shifted himself towards your side - huffing a bit when his cock pulled free of your warmth. "Whatever it is you want in this life, wife, I'll give to you," he decided as he crashed to the bed beside you, offering an open arm for you to curl against his chest.

"You sound smitten, Prince," you accused gently, nestling into your new home - at his side.

"Perhaps I am, Princess," he told you, eye taking in your entirety. "Perhaps you have me enraptured, and I am unwilling to leave your clutches."

You hummed and let your lips press to his, slowly increasing the tempo as your own libido felt newly heightened. How strange, the moment you lost your virginity, you suddenly crave the action of another warm body - or perhaps, you craved the body of your husband.

None the less, Aemond let loose the faintest of moans; hand coming up to hold the back of your head, mouths moving in sync.

When you pulled back, it was only just to mutter, "Perhaps the feeling is mutual."

"Good," he whispered, licking into your mouth again. He hummed and pressed one last hardened kiss to your mouth, then pulled back. "Give me time to nap and I will spend days worshipping you. Yes?"

"Deal," you agreed against his swollen lips, breathing stuttering when your teeth caught his bottom lip and pulled.

"Devil woman," he whispered, hand wrapping around your throat. "Behave."

"You're not making the point you think," you whispered.

"My girl likes my hand at her throat?"

"Only in this sort of position," you smirked, lips catching his own again to tangle together in a frenzied dance of passion and newly found, newly formed love.

[ part one ]

[ series masterlist ]

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd smut

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 3 months

Text

Within cells, interlinked (Miguel O’Hara x Ai/Hologram! Fem! reader) Part 1

Hiii! Very excited about this bad boy, this is inspired by K and Joi’s relationship in bladerunner 2049, and this panel from 90’s run of the Spider-Man 2099 comics. Also there is some heavily implied (at the very least one sided) holofang (Miguel x Lyla) at the beginning, if that isn’t your cup of tea, then I’m sorry but that’s how I wrote it. Not proofread, enjoy!

(Y/N)-Your name.

Implied (one sided???) holofang, Lyla is like basically dead, mentions of sex work, cursing, Miguel being a sad lonely lonely man, ansty (if you squint), Miguel being a little mad scientist like at the end. Tbh idk really know what to tag these as.

Word count: 3k

Part 2

Masterlist

Playlist I listened to while writing

—

Neuva York 2099.

A dystopian wasteland that was once a pristine and other worldly city. But, like every other beautiful thing, it would be destined to fall, thanks to Kingpin, who now had the city under his thumb. Straile white buildings that once stood tall, crumpled and decayed, being replaced slowly but surely with dark titanium steel. Holographic projections filled the sides of ugly skyscrapers, advertising anything and everything, ranging from restaurants and video games to Ai women and cyborg upgrades.

Miguel’s original Ai assignment was unfortunately no longer functional, her software having been corrupted due to a virus that was released onto Miguel’s suit during a fight with Doc ock, Miguel having no other choice but to terminate her software, putting her out of her misery. It not only set Miguel back from his usual tasks as Spider-Man and his work at Alchemax, but the whole spider society, Lyla being the one who controlled the whole mainstream to the entire operation, along with help from Spider-Byte, but she couldn’t run the whole society technology wise, she had a life outside of her role there.

If Miguel had the time, he would have done what he had done the first time, and redesign her from scratch, raising her from her nonexistent grave. However, he knew he didn’t have the time. He had spent months programming her, not to mention the years it took for him to upgrade her into what she had become. It’s only been a week, and he could already see the cracks that were forming without her to hold it all together. His universe was already in disarray, he didn’t need another thing to crumble into dust in his hands.

The walk from the Alchemax back to his apartment was meant to help him clear his head, but it only dampened his mood more, bitter cold air and large dark clouds rolling in slowly, threatening to pour down on the decile city. Keeping his head held high and eyes forward despite his desire to go deep into a dark alleyway and swing the rest of the way home, keeping the tension in his temples build up with every sleazy salesperson attempting to sell him a sketchily low price for random gadgets that he was certain was stolen, or sex workers attempting to coax him into a small brothel. All kinds of lives walked past him as he ventured home, humans, cyborgs, full robots and AI holographic companions, a million life stories that could be told.

Less and less began to cross his path as he neared his apartment building, eye bags dark and sunken in as he turned his head to the left, he was now alone on the sidewalk, stopping as he put his hand on the railing that lined the evaluated walkway, he remembered not even 10 years ago, that very spot would look out to a beautiful pond, small ducks that pattered around, families gathering around to have little outings, ones that Miguel only ever really dreamed of. Now, all that was a ginormous digital billboard that would switch advertisers every week or so. Although he never really expected they’d project the one that was on display now. He had to squint a bit so that the now dripping rain didn’t get into his eyes as he watched the projection.

“The perfect companion, the perfect coworker, the perfect partner. Joi, your personal Ai. Everything you want to hear, everything you want to see.” The sentences rotated between each other over and over, Miguel stayed silent as he stared mindless at the naked back of the large Ai hologram, their skin admitting a light glow as she sensually ran her hands through her hair. Despite the words “companion” and “coworker” showing up on the ad, it was painfully obvious what the holographic woman was really meant for.

Still, he caught himself unable to look away, despite seeing the ads hundreds of times prior to this moment. He didn’t even register when the Ai had turned around and squatted in front him, making it so the two were at eye level.

“Hello handsome.” His eyes finally drifted up to meet hers once she spoke, he wasn't very fond of the default version they often used on most of their ads, so seeing this version in front of him was a lot more of a nicer sight to see. “What a day hmm?” When he didn’t respond she just came closer, “you look lonely… I could fix that…” She whispered with a head tilt, “you look like a good Joi…” before getting back up and moving away from Miguel once more.

Maybe it was the stress, maybe it was his way of pretending he wasn’t mourning an algorithm, maybe it was just him being tired of carrying everything on his shoulders, still… his eyes slowly went down to his orange watch, moving it in front of the bare glowing figure, before his free hand slowly hovered over the watch, hesitating for a moment, before pressing purchase.

—

Once Miguel got home he spent the next hour or so reworking your programming, jailbreaking and removing restrictions, wanting to make sure you were prepared to handle the society’s system before he even turned you on to make sure you wouldn’t crash the second you were hooked up to it.

Eventually, once everything ran to meet his expectations, he stood back and waited for you to appear in front of him. Waiting impatiently as he watched the small loading circle chase itself until you appeared, although you weren’t fully “awake” still, eyes closed, head slumped forwards and arms hung limply to your sides. Still needing to be given a name, an outfit and if he desired to change anything from your physical appearance he could. He decided to keep your assets the same, and placed a simple outfit on you, deciding if you ever evolved enough to be sentient on the same level as Lyla was, that he’d give you free range to change it. For a name though, it was a bit harder of a choice.

Maybe it was him having his previous one for as long as he did, but he wanted you to be… different, then her, a name that wasn’t, well, Lyla. Something nice and pleasant to say, but not simple enough for him to forget in the midst of him in a fight. After some pondering, he finally typed in the name into his watch and pressed the “finalized model”. Releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding when he saw your head slowly begin to lift and your eyes slowly fluttered open.

“Hello Miguel.” You said him a smile.

“Hello (Y/N).” His lips twitched upwards for half a second.

—

It took a while for your program to adjust and be accustomed to the database, he never realized how much strain he put on his older Ai until he watched you try and accommodate the same thing, yet then again, he built it all around her, instead of vise versa. It wasn’t just you who had needed some time to adjust though. The amount of times that spiders (including Jessica and Miguel) would call for Lyla still instead of you was starting to… annoy you for lack of a better term.

You had been patient at first, appearing despite the slip up, simply correcting the person who called for you and going on with the request, then it seems that the patience started to run thin. Rolling your eyes or letting out snarky little remarks, then eventually you just started to not respond unless they called you by your actual name, which only led you landing yourself in a lecture from Miguel, being threatened to reboot your system. Him ranting about how it could be dangerous or something, after the first few times, it stops being fear insulating, once you even let out a yawn at his usual lecture. A yawn. How close he was to throwing his desk across his office.

The longer you stuck around the more knowledge you gather, the more self-aware you become, mimicking human thoughts and emotions, reading anything you could get your digital little hands on. From the words of Ancient Greek philosophers to thousands of different articles on how the human brain works, what different areas controlled what. You found humans quite interesting, such complex yet flawed creatures, you can understand why so many filmmakers and authors who write science fiction have some odd variation of robots wanting to either become humans or destroy them.

It’s almost cliche, but you can’t help but develop the same fascination with Miguel. How could you not? You were quite literally around him 24/7, you could tell he wanted to be taken care of when he wasn’t taking care of everything himself, and who were you as his assistant to refuse?

—

“Welcome back Miguel.” You smiled as you appeared next to the door before he could even step foot through its threshold. Your eyes followed him as he took his shoes off and threw his keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room, landing with a loud clunk.

“I just saw you back at HQ.” He chuckled, shaking his head as he closed the door behind him before he made his way to his kitchen, “It's been 20 minutes.” He added as he turned the corner, being met with you already there, leaning against the counter as his coffee machine was already pouring him a new cup in his favorite mug, with the stove being lit on for him to place his left overs onto to warm up.

“Being greeted when you arrive home helps boost your overall well-being.” You quipped, which only gained a small hum of acknowledgement as he placed a pot of bistec on top of the open flame, and a bowl of leftover white rice in the microwave.

“It could also help boost my overall well-being if you didn’t act like such a brat half the time.” He countered back as he stirred the streak and potatoes to make sure it didn’t burn before turning to face you, meeting you with that all too familiar smirk he always gave you. You were quick to mirror it. “You're supposed to make my life easier, ya know?” Despite it being a rhetorical question, your smirk only widely more.

A silence fell over the kitchen as he goes back to focusing on his food, you just stay there, watching as he made quick work fixing his plate, mumbled a small “sorry” to you everytime he would “bump into you” (as Miguel liked to call it) despite him only passing through your holographic body as he grabs the plate and cup of coffee and goes it set it down at the table, making sure to be fast as to not hold onto the gradually warming glass crockery long enough to burn his rough hands.

With a sigh, he sat down in front of his plate as he heard the faint noise of your projection deactivated from the kitchen, leaving him alone in the quiet home of his. He’s fork moving around the contains on his plate, piercing the potatoes and steak but never lifting it up to bite into the steaming meal. After a few more moments of playing with his food, he placed his fork back down, keeping his eyes down on his plate despite him lifting his head up.

“(Y/N).” He called out after cleaning his throat.

“Yes?” Your voice called back out, ringing through his apartment as he waited for you to reappear, only to let out a huff when you didn’t.

“…have dinner with me?” When he finally looked back up, he was met with you already in the chair across from him, a digital plate of food replicating his in front of you. His lips twitched up as he whispered a light thank you for entertaining his wish, even down to mimicking eating as you both sat there, his eyes never leaving yours.

After his appetite was satiated, and the dish were washed, he wander to his living room, being met with the sight of you already being sat down on one of the small leather accent chair that sat to the right of the coffee table, a small orange tablet-like screen being held in your hands as you tampered away on it, most likely readjusting tomorrow's schedule or researching more on some random topic you found interesting. Leaning against the doorway, he couldn't help but watch you, admire you. He found it humorous that you chose to physically sit down and read about topics even though you were built with the knowledge of practically everything. It made you feel more… real. It made him feel less insane when he found comfort in your company.

“Would you like me to leave you alone mig?” You asked after a second, eyes never leaving the screen in front of you. His heart stopped for half a second when you called him by the nickname as he shook his head.

“¿Qué estás haciendo?” He asked as he made his way towards you, stopping once he was close enough that if you had a physical being, his legs would have been touching your knees. (What are you doing?)

“Just going over your suit diagnostics, I’ve noticed that it’s been lagging a bit.” You hummed, not even fazed by the close proximity.

“…(Y/N).”

“Hmm?”

“Look at me.” He commanded, but his tone is still somewhat soft with the order, your screen evaporating from your hands as you went to meet his gaze. He hesitated for a moment, leaving his dry lips before finally continuing. “You know, I feel like I don’t appreciate you enough.”

“Miguel, I’m your Ai assistant, my whole purpose is to help make your life easier.” You couldn’t help the slight snark that came seeping through your sentence, causing him to let out a scoff and playful eye roll.

“That’s not what I mean, you know that.” He countered with a head tilt, his hands sliding over his thighs and finding their way into his front jean pockets.

“What do you mean then?”

“What do you think I meant?” Now it was you who let out an eye roll as you huffed.

“Miguel, you know I can’t ‘think’. I’m not human, I can simply process and collect information and recite it back. I speak only in facts and unbiased sources.”

He couldn’t help but hate it when you talked like that during casual conversation, despite the deadpan look in your eyes and the small sass in your infliction, it only reminded him that you weren’t real. The only difference from your body and air, was that you were a set of ones and zeros. He could swat a hand through your body and you would simply glitch around it as it interrupted your coding and it attempted to adjust around him, how for once, he wishes that when he would “bump into you” that he would be met with solid flesh, you stumbling back a bit while you scold him, his hand coming around to met the small of your back to help re-stabilize your footing as he lets out a small chuckle.

“Don’t be a smartass with me (Y/N). You know, most humans I know don’t have the ability to think either, and they for sure aren’t as nearly intelligent or knowledgeable as you are. If they can form an option then you can too.” He was met with your face contorting in confusion, a rare expression on your face, one he appreciated when he got the opportunity to witness it. “I want you to think, give me an original thought. Not a statistic, not a fact. Think for yourself (Y/N).” The was a pause before your lips parted.

“I… I think…”

“Thaaaat’s it…” He leaned forward, his face close to yours as he encouraged you to continue in a low whisper. “I think?”

“I think… that if I was a human, that… that I would be in love with you Miguel.”

Oh.

“(Y/N).”

“Yes Miguel?”

“Shut off.”

“Yes Miguel.”

Within a blink, you were gone. His hands came out from his pockets with a heavy sigh, before he rubbed his face and ran them through his hair, causing the semi-neatly slicked back hair to become desiveled. Glancing around the now empty living room, the small constant buzzing from your hologram now being replaced with the gentle tapping of the rain against his window.

Miguel O’Hara was truly a lonely man. A man with weaknesses and flaws despite himself, a man with feelings, and vulnerabilities and emotions. Miguel O’Hara was just a man, just a human. A human who wanted to be loved. To not be seen as some sort of emotionless being, the irony wasn’t lost on him that the only thing that seemed to really care for him, and see him in that way was something that wasn’t even programmed with actual emotions. Oh how he wished you were real, how you were human.

He couldn’t turn you into a human, but he could get close.

With a sigh he entered his home office, the only room he had restricted giving you access to appearing in. Closing the door behind him before leaning against the door, his eyes instantly finding themselves stuck on the limb on the table. An arm to be more specific, the synthetic flesh that matched your complexion wrapped around its exoskeleton. It took him almost a month to do just one arm, and although the time length of that he estimated for this project was a bit more lengthy then he’d like, if it meant getting every minuscule and minute detail perfected, he’ll take all the time in the world for it. He’d make sure it was perfect, that you’d be prefect.

—

Tags: @oscarissac2099

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara au #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #Miguel ohara x Ai reader #miguel fanfic #Miguel O’Hara #miguel ohara #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 fanfic #spiderman 2099

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izvmimi · 27 days

Text

cw: angst. marriage mention. alcohol use. female pronouns. forgive me, polish speakers if anything is wrong pls dm me.

“Wódkę, proszę.”

The bartender gives the young man a look, scrutinizing his features carefully as he tries to assess the origin of the accent in his softly-spoken Polish or the quiet desolation in his eyes, and nods.

“Okej.”

In just a few moments that pass barely perceptibly, there is a glass of clear liquid set before him, and he ponders for a moment as he stares into the glass. It’s too dark in this dusty dive bar, a far drive from the venue where he should have been dancing the night away, spinning the love of his life in his arms, under the thankful, mirthful eyes of everyone he’s known and loved. Yet here he is, attempting to suffocate his feelings with vodka amongst strangers in a country he doesn’t entirely call home.

Perhaps there is some solace to that. Having his wedding overseas rather than Japan had sounded like an unnecessary decision but he had started this new life with you in this very place, and thus it felt fitting to plant the roots of your love in this very soil. Additionally, there was comfort in knowing that in a small way he was nobody here if he wanted to be. Mysterious like this liquid if it were in another glass, if presented to him not upon his request.

He takes a sip and it burns, and it’s somehow soothing, and quickly he shoots back as much of the drink as possible. The sudden gasp for air is loud and sharp, but the rest of the bar is loud and no one even offers him a glance.

He should have seen it coming. You were always so very anxious - not about your career, or your hopes and dreams, but about him, how you meshed together, how your lives would intertwine, how you would map out your family and future. One foot in and one foot out, while worrying the same for him. Jealous at times, needy at others. He’d hoped it was just a measure of how intense your love was for him, that you’d balk at the idea of any challenge, but really it was just your inability to trust him naturally.

He’s not sure what he could have done more for you. Held you more, kissed you more, been around more for you? Would it have been different if he had been more forthcoming with his admiration for you or been more aggressive sexually? Nicer haircuts? Grown a beard? Better fashion sense?

What did you need that he couldn’t offer you? He would have given you the sun, moon and stars on a platter if only you’d asked for it.

All he had asked for was for you to be there, to walk down the aisle to him, in the presence of family and friends.

To be his wife.

You had agreed after all to do it. He’s not new to your indecisiveness, but this? This is far, far more sinister.

The whole church was in disarray.

Where is the bride?

Where is his pride?

He asks for another drink, and downs it just as quickly.

Wakatoshi left the second the wedding was called off, unaware of what the guests did thereafter. You were polite enough in your complete disregard for his heart to leave a note, and when he called you, the empty line made it clear you had not much more to say to explain yourself.

So he’ll leave it at that.

There are better ways to end a relationship, and if he thinks really really hard, there are probably worse ways, but this hurts.

His friends are calling him, too, wondering why he has disappeared. Satori sends message after message that he’s not ready to respond to, and possibly never will. If only he could drown in this glass, he would. Perhaps then he could re-emerge as someone worthy of love or at the very least respect.

Perhaps reborn, you would love him enough to stand with him, tears in both of your eyes rather than streaming down wordlessly into his empty glass.

“Wódkę, proszę.”

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #mimi's notes #daydreams: hq #cw angst #cw alcohol

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zanarkandskylines · 1 month

Note

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a balugou or Todoroki x reader helping reader grieve their father. Their father died unexpectedly, and even years later they haven’t processed grief a lot yet. Like some days they’ll be fine, then something will remind them of their dad, or randomly in the middle of the night they’ll cry when they realize they lost their father. If not, totally okay! Love your work so so much!

omg anon, absolutely! i (unfortunately) have a lot of feelings about grief and have no problem talking/writing about it as i find it therapeutic. i super appreciate the respectful approach and thank you for reading my work! supporting my little fleeting thoughts brings me more warmth than you know. 😭💗 i am gonna choose bakugo over the two of them since i don’t think i could do todoroki well enough, hope that’s okay!!

lost in the echo 『 ♡ 』 bakugo x fem!reader ⇢ it all happened so fast - one moment, your family is happy and healthy. the next? it's broken and in disarray, loss shattering your whole world. in a world of super heroes, people often forget just how painfully human they are when sickness strikes.

꒰ tags & content ꒱ heavy talks of grief (parent's passing), talks of self harm/substance abuse (drugs/alcohol), talks of cancer/illness & hospitals | major emotional hurt/comfort, eventual fluff, sprinkles of angst about being perceived while grieving, soft bakugo, reader’s best friends are bakugo and mina, bakugo’s secretly crushing on reader, “happy ending,” characters are 18+ ꒰ cross posted to ao3 | wc; -1.5k ꒱ -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

☆ inspired by "neon grave" by dayseeker ☆

⋆ ˚ʚɞ — just a general note to please, please mind the tags for this fic. it's not dark content, per se, but it deals with heavy subject matter (descriptive self destructive habits & harm) and could be upsetting for some. much love for you all! ♡

───

“This party sucks,” you whine, leaning on Mina’s shoulder. “Monoma’s drinks are weak as hell.”

Mina pats your head and exhales dramatically. “Might be time to call it a night, babe. It’s almost midnight, and they’re weak cause you’ve downed six cups.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever.”

The two of you had been invited by some of the class 3B students to hang out in their dorms over the weekend, AKA drink and bullshit the night away. Months ago, you wouldn’t have been caught dead at any of these parties, but nowadays? You were looking for any way to silence the nagging voice in your head. Mina tagged along, mostly to keep an eye on you since none of your other classmates attended said parties. She’d been on her phone most of the night, texting and scrolling in the corner as you knocked back drinks.

“Who the fuck are you texting?” Your words came out acidic, but that wasn’t your intention. The alcohol was beginning to sink in, stirring the emotions in your chest. It was Russian Roulette, you never knew which one would be loaded in the chamber and ready to fire.

Mina clicked her tongue at your tone, raising her eyebrows. “Why do you care?”

Ah, that was code for “I’m texting Bakugo updates on how you’re doing because we’re worried for your wellbeing.”

Logically, you knew they just cared about you. You’d had a tough couple of months - nothing crazy, just that your dad fucking died and tragically lost his battle against cancer.

The news wasn’t easy to hear, let alone digest, the longer it sat with you back when your mom first broke the news. Cancer. One of the most gut churning words in any language. The sheer mention of the term is enough to make anyone’s hairs stand on end, especially when it’s applied to someone you love and care about.

Fluorescent orange bottles lined your kitchen counter back home, multitudes of medication prescribed to keep your dad in a haze while his body decayed. They taunted you, a constant reminder of the grim reality your family was stuck in. You’ve memorized the smell of the hospital, too - that faint stench of death mixed with cleaning supplies. Late nights in the glow of vending machines of the ER lobby and long days spent listening to nurses drone on about hope and miracles. They even had the gall to give you and your mom false hope, declaring he was in remission one week before he died.

You shake your head to rid yourself of the memories, pissed off that even in your buzzed state of mind, all of it was crystal clear. Mina gives you a quizzical stare, realizing that you haven’t heard hear her talking to you the last few minutes.

“We’re leaving,” she exclaims, grabbing your wrist. You tug it from her grasp and chug the rest of the drink in your hand, tossing the now empty cup to the floor.

“Fuck off, Mina! I know you’ve been talking with Katsuki all night. You two treat me like I’m a fragile little bitch!” You yell, waving your arms for dramatic effect. At this point, she’s used to your combative outbursts. She knows you’re grieving, but goddamn, she wanted to smack the shit out of you when you got like this.

“Suit yourself, I’m goin’ to bed.” And with that, she leaves.

Mina actually walks out and leaves you.

You storm to the door, throwing it open and pursuing her down the hallway of the Class B dorms.

“Minaaa!” You call after her, slurring the latter half of her name. She’s got her phone to her ear as she cocks her head to the side, acknowledging she heard you but isn’t listening.

You’re not proud of what you’re about to do.

Sprinting to catch up to her, you take the phone out of her hand from behind, the screen blinking the caller ID briefly - Bakugo. A sinister cackle escapes you while bringing the phone to your ear.

“Katsuki fuckin’ Bakugo. You and Mina are the fucking worst. Why can’t you just let me self destruct, huh?!” The rage bubbling in your guts was too strong to ignore. The metaphorical gun was loaded, and unfortunately for Bakugo, he was the target.

“You treat me like I’m some weak-ass bitch. Just ‘cause my dad fuckin’ died doesn’t mean shit! I’m not a goddamn child, Katsuki!” Your voice cracks over the word ‘child.’

“Treating me like a kid is rich coming from you, ya know. Hah!”

Mina attempts to grab the phone from you, but fails when you duck out of her reach, dancing down the hall away from her. Bakugo still hasn’t said a word back to you.

“The guy who treated sweet little Midoriya like shit for no reason, bullied him over a fuckin’ non-existent grudge. You’re the goddamn poster child of a shitty friend.”

“Y/N, ENOUGH!” Mina screeches, ripping the phone from your hand. She turns away from you while raising the phone to her ear once more.

“I’m sorry Baku-“ Mina’s interrupted by soft snivels. She could tell he tried to hide it - you made him cry.

“Hey, she’s just drunk and being an asshole. She doesn’t mean it,” she whispers. “Get to bed, I’ve kept you up long enough.” Mina hangs up the phone and turns her attention back to you. She doesn’t say a word - her eyes tell you how disappointed she is with your actions.

You quietly sulk behind her back to the Class A dorms, reveling in the guilt of your actions.

───

Monday comes along and you still haven't said two words to Bakugo. Admittedly, you're ashamed of yourself and don't have the courage to apologize right now. It wasn’t the first time you’ve gotten into a small tiff, it always goes back to normal. You’re sure this’ll pass and he’ll just talk to you again…right?

But he doesn’t.

Classes wrap for the day and he leaves homeroom without looking your way.

───

The silence in your dorm room is starting to drive you mad, not having a decent enough distraction for the endless loop of thoughts circling in your mind. You wander into the bathroom and lazily open your medicine cabinet. A set of translucent orange bottles occupied the bottom shelf - you’d taken them from home, stealing your dead dad’s various medications. A pang of guilt stabs you in the gut while you shuffle through them. You had zero idea what most of these pills even did, but if it got you high? Who fucking cares.

You’re about to dump a few in your hand when something stops you, dropping the tablets onto the floor.

What the fuck?

“Dad…?” You speak aloud, knowing full well how fucking insane you sound for thinking your father’s ghost smacked the medicine out of your hand. As expected, there is no response, just dead air. You scurry back to your bed, grabbing for your phone. Instinctively, you’re about to click Bakugo’s name when your eyes fall on the time: 11:56PM.

You call him anyways.

After a few rings, the line picks up and you hear shuffling before he verbally answers.

“…Hey.”

“Uhh, hi. Sorry for waking you.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Can you come to my room?”

There’s a pause.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you. Door's open.”

The line ends with a click.

A minute or two later, your dorm room door cracks open, Bakugo stepping inside and closing it quietly behind him. He hesitantly makes his way over to the bed and sits beside you.

“Y’okay?”

“I almost took some pills. Something stopped me, though and I didn’t.” Shame creeps through you as you're acknowledging the destructive behavior for the first time in months.

“…I’m glad you ditched ‘em.”

Another pause.

“I’m sorry for the other night.”

Bakugo inhales deeply before shifting his gaze to the floor. “Yeah. ‘S fine.”

Obviously, it was not fine.

“Katsuki, seriously. I’m sorry for being an asshole.” You place a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t deserve to have you here right now.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t say shit like that. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna be.”

The two of you sit in silence for what feels like an eternity.

Bakugo speaks up first. “Why’d you call me over? Y’coulda told me about the pills over the phone.”

Your eyes begin to well with tears, overcome with emotions that you'd been withholding for too long.

"I miss my dad," You say between hiccupped sobs. "I don't know what to do...it fucking hurts."

Bakugo doesn't hesitate to pull you close, awkwardly throwing his arms around you. "I know."

Everything comes pouring out of you, every single emotion that you've shoved away into the imaginary closet in your head since the funeral. No matter how many times you tell him that he can leave, he doesn't. He stays with you the entire night, laying beside you as you cry yourself to sleep.

───

When you stir awake the next morning, Bakugo's arm is securely hooked around your waist as he's peacefully resting behind you. You give him a light shake to wake him up.

"Mornin'," he grunts, sleepily opening one eye. "How ya feelin'?"

Honestly? You felt...okay.

"Good, I think. Better than I have in awhile," you say, rolling over to face him. "Thank you. I'm sorry again for-"

Unexpectedly, his lips are on yours, silencing your apology. You let out a squeak before melting into the warmth he offers, tugging on your waist to pull you closer to him. He breaks the kiss long enough to mumble, “Forget about all that. Just shut up and kiss me, dammit.”

You can’t help but feel guilty about his affection, how you didn’t think you deserved it after treating him so horribly. All Bakugo wanted to do was be there for you when you pushed him, and Mina, away.

“But…why now?” You ask while pulling away, perplexed at how casual he’s being about all of this.

He just shakes his head, grin plastered on his smug face. “Cause I don’t like seein’ you cry. And Mina may or may not have blabbed about a certain drunken rant ya went on about me.”

What the hell was he…oh. Ohhhh.

Dammit Mina!

“What did she tell you?!” You blurt out, covering your face with your hands. Bakugo grabs your wrists, pulling your hands away from your flared cheeks as he laughs.

“She didn’t say shit, but now I wanna hear it.”

You smack him playfully in the arm, huffing as you turn over. He scoots up and lays his head behind yours on the pillow.

“I care about you, idiot. That’s why. Do I need another reason?”

You close your eyes, a smile settling on your lips as you grab his hand, moving back to snuggle closer to him.

“No. That’s good enough for me.”

The pain in your heart momentarily subsides and offers you a glimpse of hope.

Things will get easier, no matter how dark it is.

💥 tags; @slayfics

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader fluff #bakugo x reader angst #katsuki bakugo #bakugo angst #bakugo fluff #tw: grief #mha bakugo x reader #my hero academia bakugo #my hero academia #☆.from the stars #☆.rei writes

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