Always Been You

always been you

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝖽𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝗑 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖽!𝖿𝖾𝗆!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝗁𝖾'd 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎 since you were both just kids. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽, 𝗉𝖺𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖼𝗄. 𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇'𝗍, 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖽. 𝗁𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗂𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽'𝗌 𝖾𝗑-𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍... 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗈𝗎𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇'𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖻𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟧,𝟧𝟪𝟢 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌; 𝟥𝟣, 𝟢𝟪𝟥 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗌.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗉𝖾𝗇𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗏𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗉𝖾𝗍 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝗉𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗒, 𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖻𝗈𝗒, 𝗈𝗋𝖺𝗅 𝗌𝖾𝗑 (𝖿𝖾𝗆! 𝗋𝖾𝖼𝖾𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀) 𝖻𝗋𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗒𝖺𝗅, 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍, 𝗆𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗒 𝗌𝖾𝗑, 𝗆𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗋𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝖿𝗈𝗈𝗅𝗌 𝗂𝗇 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾, 𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗉𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎, 𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗋 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖼𝗎𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀.

𝗮/𝗻: 𝗁𝖾𝗒, 𝗂 𝗎𝗉𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍. 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍/𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿 𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝗇𝖺𝗅𝖽𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖿𝗂𝖼, 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗍, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝖿𝗍 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗎𝗅𝗍, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒'𝗌 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗌, 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖺 𝗌𝖾𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖽. 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝗂'𝗏𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗓𝖾𝖽 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗋𝖺𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝗌𝗈 𝗂'𝗆 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗀𝗈 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝗐𝗇, 𝗈𝗄𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝗒𝖾.

"Art, have you... have you ever loved someone you couldn't have?" Your voice is so soft, and so quiet. God, let you be talking about him, he pleads mentally.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦. "Yes," he whispers. A quiet, breathy reply, his voice raw and gentle. Art holds tighter to your hand, almost refusing to let go as he gently rubs his thumb against your skin. "I'm in love with someone, and I've never been able to have them."

"Why? Why couldn't you?"

"They..." Art's breath hitches, his thumb pausing over your skin before he resumes his soothing circles once more. Every nerve in his body is focused on the way your hand feels in his. The warmth of your skin. The beat thrumming beneath the surface as your heartbeat fills the silence. "They don't love me back."

"You don't, uh... you don't know that," this time, you're looking at him differently. A way that's not how someone looks at someone else who's just a friend. Maybe you've always looked at him like that, but he's been too busy being jealous of Patrick to notice.

𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴. Art is silent, eyes fixated on your expression- those pretty, inviting eyes, as he waits for you with bated breath. He's too scared to speak, too scared that you'll snap him put of his fantasies. Your eyes are searching for something, and he fears they'll find his every insecurity and desire within them.

"I... I think I know who I love. Maybe I did love Patrick as some point, but I- I don't anymore."

Those words are like a punch to the chest. Art's heart is bursting, thumping against his ribcage and filling his ears with the sweet sound of his heartbeat. The room is spinning, he's dizzy from the rush of feelings filling his body. His chest heaves, heart racing faster than it ever has before. He's still holding tight to your hand, fingers gripping your hand, refusing to let go as he turns his gaze to yours.

"It's you, Art. I think it's always been you, somehow."

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙞𝙢. His mouth falls open slightly, the sharp breath he's been withholding escaping as his breath hitches in his chest. His eyes widen and his face splits into a wide grin, his chest growing tight, bursting and aching with something he can't explain. Art can't help but let out a brief chuckle, his thumb moving against your skin. "And I've been in love with you since I was eleven years old."

"God, I... I've been a fucking idiot. I've been looking everywhere but right in front of me, when the person I love has been right there."

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘐 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦. The way those words roll off your tongue has him grinning, a joyous expression filling his eyes as a candied laugh slips from his lips. He's breathless and dizzy, drunk on the knowledge that this- 𝘺𝘰𝘶 - has been his all along. He can't keep his eyes off you, expression filled with adoration and admiration. He can't speak, but you seem to understand what he's thinking with just a glance.

Art's eyes are gleaming, pupils dilated as he drinks on the sight of your face. He's still holding your hand, his thumb making soft circles against your skin as he gazes at you. His jaw is tight, muscles flexing as his body is overcome with excitement. His breathing is coming heavier and quicker as he tries to pull himself together. He can't help it when he whispers a gentle reply, the words slipping from his tongue before he can even think of stopping them. "Can I kiss you?"

You look at him then, staring into his eyes, with your gorgeous doe eyes that always make him go weak in the knees, and his blood rush. "Yeah. Kiss me."

Art's breath hitches in his lungs, the air suddenly catching in his throat as the realization of your response hits him like a tidal wave. He can't believe what he's feeling in this moment, those gentle whispers of desire and love frantically becoming a roaring fire, consuming any thought of control. Those pretty doe eyes- they're his undoing. Art can't even prevent the gentle moan that slips from his lips as you lean closer, body leaning towards yours as his own words ring back from earlier. "Oh, thank god."

His breath is coming in short pants, body burning hotter as he takes in your features- those soft lips, the flush of your cheeks, the way your brow wrinkles ever so slightly as you approach. He is overwhelmed by the desire to touch you, and all Art wants is to tangle his fingers in your hair and feel your body against his. "Please, please-" 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘮𝘦.

You grip him by the hair, lightly, pulling him towards you, kissing him. If it was anyone else, he'd probably punch them. But this is 𝘺𝘰𝘶. The same girl he's been in love with since he was eleven years old.

Art gasps, eyes widening slightly before fluttering shut. His entire body melts, eyes rolling back into his head as he lets out a moan. His hands fall forward, gently holding onto your waist, fingers digging into your hips. His body moves of its own accord, tilting forward slightly to deepen the kiss. Art's breathing stutters, fingers twisting into strands of your hair, pulling you closer.

His mind is blank except for one thing. You. All he can think about is you. Your lips. Your perfume. The way you taste. You touching him.

Art's body is on fire, burning up with the desire to touch anything he can reach of yours. The kiss is sloppy, filled with passion and want, his body flaming over with need. Art can't help the whine that escapes his lips with the feel of you pulling his hair, desperate and needy, gasping for breath despite not wanting to break the kiss. His senses are flooded with 𝘺𝘰𝘶, the taste of your tongue and the feel of you against his body.

You both pull away after a few moments, reluctant to, but you do both need to breathe. Art's lips are kiss-swollen, and his hair's messy, but he couldn't care less. It hits you then that you're both still out in public, but luckily you were in a rather secluded corner, so no one really saw anything (you hope).

Art gasps as he pulls away, staring at you with half lidded eyes and mouth agape. His lips are flushed, swollen and shining with saliva. His hair is disheveled and tangled, the product of your fingers, and his breath is shallow, heart racing. His mind is spinning, unable to comprehend the feelings exploding in his chest. His tongue darts out, wetting his botttom lip further, watching you with wide eyes as a low whimper escapes his bitten red lips.

"As much as I hate to stop, and I really hate stopping, but I do have class, pretty boy."

Pretty boy? Art's been called a lot of things in his life, but that's a new one. Pretty boy. 𝘏𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵.

Art blinks, dazed as his mind struggles to process your words through the rush of adrenaline flowing through his veins. The nickname takes a few seconds to register, and when it does a low groan rumbles in his throat. His eyes roll back slightly, hips canting forward as he shivers, the sound almost sounding like "𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯?" Art's breath is shaky, words coming out in a broken whisper as he nods his head. "Say it again."

Your hand reaches up to comb through his hair, nails gently scratching his scalp. "So, you like being called that, huh?"

A breathy whine escapes his lips, Art's eyes fluttering as your fingers rake through his hair. It sends tingles down his spine, and he finds himself leaning into your touch, unable to hold back the quiet moan in his chest. He's already a mess at the mere mention of the words, and he can't seem to get a grip on himself. "Yes, yes-" 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

"You're all worked up, hmm? I guess I can... skip this class this one time. After all, I... can't leave my pretty boy hanging."

It's like now that you know calling him that makes Art lose his mind, you'll never stop. Art lets out another low whine, body practically deflating at those words. One look into his eyes has his breath catching, pupils blown wide and lips parted in a silent plea. "𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦-" his hips jerk forward, body arching towards you as he presses his forehead into your shoulder. His breath comes heavy, chest heaving as he pants against your soft skin. "Don't tease me, 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦-"

"Your dorm isn't too far from here. We can go there, and... I can take care of you," your fingers glide right above his waistline, and it takes everything in him to keep himself from capturing your mouth again.

Art lets out a strangled gasp, the light touch of your fingers causing his breath to catch as a soft shiver wracks through his frame. The way his body wants to press close to yours is almost too much to control, his entire body straining to keep from arching into the touch. His chest heaves, eyes glazed as his breath comes in hot pants against your skin, mouth nearly watering with want. "𝘗𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, god, 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦,"

"C'mon, then. Be a good boy and get us to your dorm," you murmur softly, although you're unsure where there newfound confidence has come from.

The quiet moan that slips from his lips is all the confirmation that's needed, his body surging forward as he pushes himself off the seat. His body is shaking, knees trembling beneath him as he pulls away. His eyes are dark, pupils still wide and his gaze hazy as he takes your hand and leads you towards his dorm.

The trek back to his dorm is a blur, his vision tunneling as his mind becomes consumed by you, and only you. His breath heaves and shakes, as his body seems to react to every move you make, shuddering and arching instinctively as his heart pounds against his chest. The sound of blood rushing in his ears is enough to drown out the world around him, the feeling of your skin on his being the only thing keeping him grounded. As soon as Art's closed and locked the door to his dorm room, you're pulling him towards you by his shirt, smashing your lips to his.

Art lets out an involuntary gasp, eyes rolling back as a low moan slips from his lips. His breath catches I'm his throat, body shuddering as he melts into the kiss. He's completely drunk on sensations, his fingers grasping at your hips with bruising force as his body arches, trying desperately to get closer. Art's body seems to have its own mind, hips rocking forward instinctively as he presses his body against yours.

It isn't long before Art's hoisted you up against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist as he grinds against you. He's mouthing at your skin, kissing and sucking at your neck as your fingers tangle in his hair.

He's completely intoxicated on the feeling of you, fingers digging into your hips and breath coming in heavy pants as he presses you into the wall. His mouth attacks your neck, teeth lightly scraping along your skin as he sucks along the soft flesh. His body is practically an inferno, burning with need as he presses into you, body shaking with every movement. "𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘮𝘦," he moans, the sound muffled by your throat as he presses closer. You have half a mind to tease him a little bit, make him beg for it. But the other part of you is just as desperate as he is.

You reach down, slipping your hand into his pants. You wrap your hand around his rock hard cock, touching him right where he needs it. Art's hips stutter, and his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head, desperate and needy.

𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭.

Art's entire body jerks in response, fingers tightening their grip on your hips as he throws his head back with a groan. His hips cant forward, pressing up into your hand with a low moan. His breath is hot and shuddering, eyes closed as he gasps for air. He's dizzy, wasted on you, and utterly lost in need. "Oh god, don't- don't stop-"

"Yeah? That it? That right where you need me?" You're talking breathily into his ear, and you're just as needy for him as he is for you.

His breath catches in his throat, moans escaping as he nods his head desperately. The way your voice sounds in his ear has his mind spinning, his hips bucking forward as he buries his face into your shoulder. "Y- you're driving me insane. I'm yours- 𝘪'𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴," he gasps out, panting against your neck, his entire body shuddering beneath your touch.

"You're so, so pretty like this, Art... you're doing so good, baby..."

Those words nearly send him spiralling, his body practically vibrating with need as a wrecked moan tears from his lips. He pants, shuddering as he lets out a broken whimper when you call him baby. "Oh, god, 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯- please, i'm good for you, i'm doing good-"

"You wanna take me to bed and we can get those clothes off? I can take good care of you..."

His breath is coming in short, shuddering pants, body shaking with need and desire as he lets out a strangled gasp. He’s nodding before the words are even fully out, hands tightening on your hips before releasing to grab your hand. His fingers link with yours, grip almost bruising as he drags you towards the bedroom. “Please,” he moans, breathless and desperate and completely gone for you.

When you reach the bed, Art turns to you, pushing you down, the movement just a bit rougher than usual. His knees knock against the mattress as he leans forward, bracing one arm against the bed as his body presses against yours, caging you in with his frame. His breathing is heavy, pupils blown wide and he's panting, 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺, as he gazes down at you. "Tell me what you want, and I'll do it. Anything. Anything for you."

This catches you off guard a bit. You only really want one thing, and it's him. To be his. "Make me yours, Art. That's what I want," your pupils are blown just as wide as his, and your hands are already tugging at the hem of his shirt.

Art's breath catches in his chest, pupils dilating more at your words, the sound ripping a deep grown from his chest as his eyes flutter shut.

"𝘎𝘰𝘥," he hisses out, body shivering as your nails graze across his skin. "Mine, I'm yours; all yours."

He doesn't hesitate as he pushes his shirt up and off, tossing it to the side and letting it fall to the floor in a rumpled mess. He's quick to tug your shirt off, his mouth immediately latching onto the skin of your neck again.

It's only a few moments before Art's left in nothing but his boxers, and you're in nothing but your undergarments. You're straddling him, your teeth gently tugging on his bottom lip as your hips roll into his.

Art's breath is coming in heavy, panting like a dog, his body shaking as he gasps into the kiss. One hand comes up to tangle in your hair, fingers wrapping in your locks as he whines against your mouth. His body arches, head thrown back as he moans and gasps for air, trying desperately to keep up. His hips jerk forward, hard length pressing against your center as he groans, "Jesus Christ-"

He's leaking so much pre-cum, there's a wet spot starting to form in his boxers. Not that you're fairing any better, when his clothed cock nudges a certain spot, you gasp, grabbing his hands.

You want his hands on you so bad, that you mindlessly grab his larger hands, and place them right over your clothed breasts. "Take it off. You can- you can see them-"

Art's breath hitches, the whine that comes from his throat more animal than anything as he eagerly pushes himself up on his free arm. He sits up, fingers trembling as he clumsily reached behind you, unhooking your bra and pulling away as the straps slip down your shoulders. The feeling of your bare skin against his has his body burning, almost drooling as he leans down and presses his lips to your chest.

His tongue flicks out, teeth grazing against your skin as he presses open mouth kisses to your chest. One hand moves up to cup your breast, thumb and index finger gently teasing at the hardened bud. "Tell me what you need-" he moans out, the words muffled against your skin as he sucks a deep mark into the space where your neck meets your shoulder.

"Please- need you, Art. 𝘕𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘦-" you're moaning softly, and he knows you need him just as much as he needs you.

His breath catches at your words, body shuddering as a wanton groan slips past his lips. He's nodding, breathing heavy as he gasps out, "Yes- yes, anything, God, 𝘺𝘦𝘴-" his hips press up, rocking against yours as his body aches for you. He presses his forehead into your shoulder, panting, eyes squeezing shut and body arching into you, "need you, need to fill you up-"

He's whimpering against your skin, one arm wrapping around your hips to pull you closer, the other hand reaching down to slip between your legs. His fingers brush against the wet fabric of your underwear, gasping out as he lifts his forehead, and his hips rock harder against you. "𝘊𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵..."

You're completely soaked, and your chest heaves up and down as you look at him. Your lips are kiss-swollen, your hair is mussed, and you're clinging to him like a lifeline as his fingers graze your core.

Art's eyes are blown wide, pupils dark and mouth agape as he stares at you, almost like he wants to devour you whole (and in a way, he does). He takes in the way you stare back, flushed and panting and completely wrecked already. A low whine slips past his lips as he presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder, fingers gently tugging at the fabric of your underwear, "please, God, I need, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘐-"

You nod frantically, "yes- please, take them off-" he doesn't hesitate to obey, fingers slipping under the waistband to drag the fabric down your thighs. Then his mouth is on you, lips pressing against your shoulder, mouth trailing down between your breasts, and lower still across your stomach before his hot breath is ghosting over your glistening cunt.

He looks up with blown wide, darkened eyes, "God, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, voice breathless and shaking as he presses a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh. His fingers brush over your folds, touch tender and slow as he moans out, "do you want my tongue?"

"Yeah, yeah- 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦-"

He looks up at you through hooded eyes, breath catching as he watches you. 𝘎𝘰𝘥, the way you're looking at him has his knees turning to goddamn jelly. Art's breath catches on a moan as he shifts, knees pushing your thighs open as he positions himself between them- and then he's dropping his head and pressing his tongue against you.

"Nngh- oh, fuck!" He's good. Like, really good at this. Shit, the way he's eating you out right now, it's like all he does is eat pussy for a living.

"God, Art-" You're moaning out his name and words of praise, needy and uninhibited. Your hands pulls on his hair, and he moans into your cunt. Maybe he likes having his hair pulled.

A low groan rumbles from his chest, reverberating through his body and your core as his eyes roll back. He's moaning- 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 against you, tongue and lips moving desperately as he does his best to take you apart. It's overwhelming, the taste of you, the feeling of you- and it's perfect.

"Oh, fuck, please- please don't stop, 𝘪'𝘮 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘤𝘶𝘮-" he groans at your words, fingers digging into your hips as he works you faster, tongue swirling and lips sucking as he moans desperately against you. "Come on, I've got you- come apart for me, give me everything-"

"𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬- Art, fuck-" your hand tugs at his hair again, your hips grinding against his face. You can't help but moan loudly, almost pornographically, gasping his name like it's the only word you know as your orgasm washes over you. "You're so good- so good-"

Art's cock jumps, the feeling of you tugging his hair sending tingles down his spine. God, he loves it. His body aches, his own need making him whine against your cunt as he works you through your orgasm. It's the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen, watching you come all over his tongue and listening to you say 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 in that voice. "God- such a good girl, so pretty."

He slowly pulls away, fingers skimming over your thighs as he presses a gentle kiss to your knee. He's shaking, practically drooling as he looks down at you now, eyes darkened and full of need. His body's flushed, his lips swollen, slick with saliva and your release. "𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵- 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥-" his voice is bordering on a whine, shaking and thick with arousal and his body arches towards you with insatiable need.

"You have me."

It's all he needs to hear, almost whimpering at your words, hands grabbing your hips and pulling you closer. "I need- I need- please,"

"You need- to be inside me, pretty boy. I know that's what you need-" his breath hitches at the nickname, as he gasps out a breathy moan. 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺. You make him feel all fluttery. A sharp intake of breath betrays how much he likes that name, whining.

"Uh- do you- do you have a condom?"

Art nods frantically, mind dizzy from need and desire as he fumbles for the drawer in his bedside table, pulling out a condom. His body is shaking, fingers trembling as he tears the wrapped and rolls the condom on, breathless and panting and completely and utterly wrecked.

He settles between your legs again, his cock just barely nudging at your entrance. He looks up at you, asking the silent question of consent. When you nod, it doesn't take long.

Your hands come up to grip his shoulders as he pushes into you, nails clawing at his back. You press your face into the crook of his neck, as you gasp. "S' 𝘴𝘰 𝘣𝘪𝘨, so good, fuck-"

Oh, God. You're so warm, and tight, and perfect, clenching around his cock. Art's breath catches as he bottoms out, his head thrown back as his mouth drops open on a whimper. It's everything. 𝘗𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵, the soft, warm grip of your body and the praise that falls from your lips- it has him moaning, gasping, and falling apart. "Fuck, you're so- so fuckin' tight- feels so good-"

His body jerks forward, hips snapping as your nails scratch down his back. The sensation makes his body arch, a high-pitched moan crawling up his throat as his hands grip your hips tighter. He knows he isn't going to last very long at all.

He's panting against you as he presses open-mouthed kisses to your neck, whining against you as he tries to keep a steady pace, his hips snapping erratically as he moans into your skin. It's hot, so hot as he whines, "baby, baby-"

You're so goddamn vocal, and he loves it, you moaning out his name, praising him so much, calling him, "good boy- fuck, so beautiful-"

𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺, 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘺, God, it's driving him 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘢𝘯𝘦, the way you say it, the way you moan out his name like it's the only thing on your mind. Art's hips jerk forward, moans muffled against your neck as your words send a bolt of heat down his spine. He's desperate, body shaking and his moans raising in pitch. "Baby- baby, I- I need-"

His pace is becoming frantic, hips thrusting into your gummy walls at a brutal pace, as he moans and whines, head dropping to press his cheek against your shoulder, mouth panting against your skin. You're pretty sure you can feel him drooling onto your skin.

He's so close, the feeling of you and the sound of your voice pulling him closer and closer to the edge, "i'm- i'm- i'm gonna come-"

You nod so fast he swears you could've broken your neck, arms wrapped tightly around him as he fucks you at an almost punishing pace. "Me too- 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬-"

Your words have him moaning, trembling as he whines against your skin. Art's right on the cusp, breath stuttering as he chases his release, his hips slamming against yours as he gasps out, "𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵- 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵-"

Luckily for him, you've been on the edge for a while now, trying to stave it off in favor of making this last. Your head's fuzzy with your impending orgasm, and to hear him say he wants you to come first is more than enough to convince you to let go.

You pull him into a kiss, and as his cock pounds into that perfect spot a few more times, you're fucking gone, moaning into his mouth.

He moans with equal enthusiasm, body trembling at the feeling of you coming around him, squeezing him so tight, like a vice, milking the fucking cum right out of him. His fingers dig into the sheets, moaning, almost crying as he's completely lost in you.

You're still clenching around him, so warm and wet, so goddamn perfect, and he's so close, so close, just a bit more. He's gasping, whimpering, almost begging as he whines out a plea against your lips. "Please- I need- i'm-" a low groan slips past his lips as his body arches, hips pistoning into you at what's basically an animalistic pace now, and his thighs are trembling with the onslaught of his income orgasm.

"Please- 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢- 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦-" you slightly grind against him, tugging on his hair with one hand, and the other reaches for his nipple, twisting it between your fingers, and he's gone.

Art's body tenses, toes curling and mouth dropping open on a low, wrecked moan as he's sent over the edge. His hips jerk against yours, shuddering as he releases into the condom with a needy whine, fingers digging deep into the sheets as he shakes. His moans and breathless praises slip past his lips as he rides it out, burying his face in your shoulder and panting against your skin. "Jesus Christ, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺..."

Your fingers tiredly reach out to brush the sweat-soaked golden locks out of his face, gently combing through his hair. His face is pressed against your shoulder, and he's started giving you clumsy, open-mouthed kisses.

He's boneless in your arms, limbs heavy and body still tensed with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His breathing is staggered, and his eyes are half lidded, but the kisses he presses to your skin are so soft it makes something in both of your chests flutter. The way you run your fingers through his hair has him purring, body slotting itself against yours as his mind drifts.

You murmur soft words to him, "you were so good, baby... so good, I love you." Art's mind refocuses slightly at that, his mind hazy and his heart still pounding. 𝘚𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺, oh, God, he's floating, floating as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, whining weakly against you. "Love you, love you so much, good, s' so good-"

And he looks up at you with those big, baby blue eyes, you can't help but smile softly, and you cup his face in hand, your thumb gently stroking the lines underneath his eyes.

Art is practically putty in your hands, his whole body melting into mush as you run gentle fingers over his cheek. His breath catches and his body trembles, the love in your touch pulling him in and making his heart unfurl. He's completely and utterly ruined, completely enamored and hopelessly in love. His eyes are still hazy and and his breath is still shaky, but a small, sleepy smile breaks onto his lips as he gazes up at you.

And even though he wants to fight it, to hold it together he can't. Not anymore- not with the gentle touch of your fingers and the warmth of your body and the love in your eyes. His expression crumples, face dropping as suddenly tears are spilling down his cheeks and he's letting out the softest whimper. He feels so lucky, so unbelievably lucky that you actually love him back. His chest is overflowing with love for you, pouring out of him in streams, and it's so overwhelming, so much that he can't fight it and he's left trembling and weeping softly.

You sit up slightly, worried that something's wrong. Your thumbs gently wipe away the tears under his eyes, as you scan his face with a concerned expression. "Hey, hey, what's wrong, sweetheart?"

It's only in this moment that Art realizes how vulnerable he is right now, so open, so emotional, so 𝘩𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘵, and his breath catches on a whimper. He's completely bare right now, no longer the confident top ranked tennis player or the easy going, carefree guy who tries not to let things get under his skin. Right now, he's just a boy in love, heart so full of love got you it's leaking out of his eyes. "Nothing. I- I'm fine, I'm fine, I..."

He takes a breath, the lump in his throat thick and heavy as another tear escapes and trickles down his cheek. A beat passes before Art finally speaks up- finally verbalizes the overwhelming feelings he’s experiencing. “It’s just that- I've never felt like for anyone. I feel so lucky. I love you so much. I- sorry- I’m sorry-" he feels so 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘥, so emotional, but he feels so vulnerable in this moment. So overwhelmed by his love for you.

You chide him softly, sensing his embarrassment. "Don't be sorry," you coo, leaning forward. "Never be sorry for love, baby." You press a soft kiss to his nose, using your thumbs to wipe away his tears again.

Art shivers as you kiss his nose, his breath catching at the soft touch and the gentle way you wipe his tears, your voice so loving- 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙧𝙧𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚, 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮. He gives you a watery smile in return, his fingers reaching out to gently ruck a strand of hair behind your ear. His heart feels so full, so close to bursting as he whispers out, "I love you, baby.."

"Love you too," you whisper softly, gazing at him. Art's breath hitches again at the words, something fluttering in his chest, like a thousand butterflies had suddenly come to life inside of him. He's floating, floating, when your gaze bores into him, so full of love that he can't even describe it, that he couldn't even look away if he tried.

𝘉𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺, those words from earlier had been tumbling around in his head, repeating over and over again like a broken record and as your gaze met his, he decided to ask what's probably a stupid question. "Am I really pretty, baby?"

"You are insanely fuckin' pretty, Art."

His face grows warm at your words, cheeks flushing pink under gaze and he feels butterflies fluttering in his chest again- a warm buzzing sensation all through his veins as a shy, pleased smile tugs at his lips. "Yeah?" He whispers softly, tilting his head and biting down on his lip, just needing that bit of reassurance to settle his nerves. "You really think I'm pretty?"

You hum softly, and sweetly. "Yeah, I do. Promise."

His cheeks flush a darker red at those words, eyes widening as a happy, giddy smile forms on his face. The warmth in his heart spreads across his entire chest as he beams, shy giggling slipping past his lips as he ducks his head and covers his face with his hand. "Christ, you're gonna make me blush...!" He's feeling so 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮, so incredibly flustered under your gaze.

"Is that such a bad thing?"

Art giggles quietly against his hands, heart pounding as he feels impossibly shy. 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘺, that's him. He's the pretty boy, the boy that you love and call pretty, God, he's so incredibly flustered. He mumbles out from behind his hands, still covering his face. "You're going to kill me, don't you know that?"

You giggle softly, and he swears it's the most beautiful sound he's ever heard, like you came from heaven. "Would that really be such a horrible way to go, baby?"

"If it was by your hands, he mumbles, peeking out from behind his hands to shoot you a charming, lopsided smile. "Then no, that would be the best way to go." He's completely infatuated with you, completely enamored and hopelessly in love. "God, you drive me crazy.

Show Me Your World - (Edge of Desire Special Chapter)

summary | Glimpses of your ever blossoming marriage with Aemond, through the eyes of people around you.

pairing | aemond targaryen x niece!reader

tags | teeth rotting fluff! ooc aemond, mentions of oral (f), ooc criston lol, alicole tease idc sue me, third pov (?), pure marital bliss

song rec | My Kind of Woman - Mac Demarco

wordcount | 3.8k

note | surprise! this is my lil thank you gift for 2k hehe this isn't necessarily a pt 2, but Edge of Desire has received soo much love and i want to try and give even just a little bit back!

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

There was no doubt that the marriage of princess Rhaenyra’s only daughter to the king’s second son caused much worry from the court. The strife between the Hightowers and the Targaryens was no secret, festering into a nasty, outward conflict that ended in a boy maimed, and a family divided by sea. Viserys the Peaceful, ever faithful to his name, sought to mend this rift. 

In the moons following their marriage, it was plain to see the princess and the one-eyed prince rarely agreed with each other. A womb bearing no fruit, eyes rarely meeting, and twin frowns often decorating their features. The concerns aptly only grew. But then, something had shifted in the air.

The princess grew to be exuberant, practically glowing as her belly swelled with child. There was rarely a moment the prince was not found by her side, save for when he was training in the Keep’s yard, and even then, his ladywife was sure to be found on the castle’s balcony with a pleased smile on her face. Whispers of concern soon turned into that of courtly gossip, nobles and staff alike most eager to discover the secret in the couple’s newfound bliss. Many strained their neck to catch a glimpse of the two royals at court, keeping a close eye to notice any indication of a display of affection, though none of them ever did. The prince stood as stoic as ever, while you took your place beside him, hands clasped over your growing bump. Save for the communicative looks you exchanged now and then, the signs of a budding romance between the two of you were sparse. 

It was rather odd. Such whispers from the servants would make it seem that the prince had somehow taken on a persona straight from their mother’s tales about love, like a dashing knight head over heels for his princess, but none of them ever caught such a glimpse. All except for one. 

Sera was no significant person among the residents of the Red Keep. She was a servant, tasked with changing linens, emptying chamber pots, and seeing that the more valued inhabitants of the castle were satisfied. Any ounce of value in her low rank only came when she was made handmaiden to the princess. Stepping up to her new position, she would admit that she was quite curious. What she heard about your marriage piqued her interest, even more so when she began to step into the space that separated the royals from the lowborns. 

In your private marital chambers, the whispers began to take form, proving themselves to be true. It became customary for her to hear the rhythmic thump, thump, thump coming from your bedchamber while she set up your morning meals in the solar. High-pitched moans would penetrate through the red brick, bringing about a hot flush in the young woman’s cheeks as she hastened to lay down the cutlery before scurrying off. Sera remained invisible, merely a shadow that passed through your life, invisible hands that aided in your day. She knew her place, especially when prince Aemond was in the room while she assisted the princess. 

Once the copper tub was filled for your bath, she must make her leave in haste with one flick of the prince’s wrist.

When your husband started to approach your seated form upon the vanity as you readied for the day, Sera knew better and would step away so the one-eyed prince may inhabit your space, no matter the intricacy of the braids she was twisting your hair into. Averting her eyes, the servant could only listen to your dreamy sighs as your husband peppered kisses onto every bit of skin his lips could find.

Did it make her work lighter? Perhaps. It helped to serve two royals who wanted little but each other, who were never cruel or harsh with their tongue. It was odd to say such sentiments for what the court knew as the cold, rigid one-eyed prince, but marriage had changed much of him.

He was always handsome, despite the scar and the menacing glint in his good eye. The fearful aura he exuded in his stride made any good woman weak in the knees, coupled with that sleek, soft hair the shade of moonlight, and his lithe, tall form. Prince Aemond was far more fancied by the young maidens that served as the keep’s staff, Sera included. 

It was a particularly beautiful morn when she realized this. The spring breeze brought about a lightness through the castle, while the early morning sun beamed with hope for warmth after winter’s end. Sera made her way through Maegor’s Holdfast, her feet taking a mind of its own as it led her to your chambers. She had been at your service for a few moons at this point, a routine suitably established with time and experience. 

As she was granted entry by the White Cloak at your door, she made quick work to draw every curtain open, before making her way to the bedchamber. You must be awakened soon, and with a light knock, Sera was answered with a sleepy hum that indicated your rise.

However, such disruptions to one’s routine should always be expected. When she turned the doorknob with a soft greeting on her lips, Sera was taken aback by the sight that met her. You were, indeed, freshly awake, eyes half-lidded and hair aptly messed from the sheets, but with the addition of your husband’s kneeling form in between your thighs. His silver hair was loose, draped over his sculpted back as you gripped them in between your fingers. Neither of you seemed to notice the intruder, clearly lost in the dizzy haze of your pleasure as your hips continued to cant against Aemond’s face. It was her stunned gasp that made Sera’s presence known. For the first time, she had gotten too close, had touched the bubble that encased the couple in their marital bliss, and now it had burst. 

Both royals snapped their heads towards the door, but it was prince Aemond that made her heart beat erratically in her chest. He was without his eyepatch, nor his clean updo that kept his mane out of his face, nor a tunic or any clothing for that matter. The dazzling sapphire glinted in the morning sun, drawing her into its tantalizing spell. It was a good thing her eyes stayed there, never drifting downward to the other treasure in between his legs for the scowl on Aemond’s face made his displeasure known.

“Out,” was all he said, sending poor Sera scurrying out of the room. You would apologize to her later in the day, giving her clammy hand a soft squeeze with nothing but gentleness in your face. 

“Whatever happened to you?” Elara had asked her upon her return to the servant’s wing. The younger girl’s brows furrowed in confusion and slight worry at the beet-red flush on Sera’s face. Unlike her acquaintance, Elara’s experience with serving prince Aegon was nothing short of harrowing, and such a reaction on Sera was enough to have her assuming the worst. “Were you harmed?”

“No, no! Hells, I–” Sera stammered. When did she begin to perspire so much? Her nape was damp with flustered sweat from the aftermath of such embarrassment. Detailing the moments of her eventful morning was a struggle, even more so when Elara burst out giggling in her face. Sera slapped her hands over her face, groaning. “The prince wasn’t supposed to be there so late. He would be off to the yard with Ser Cole at this hour!”

The young blonde shook her head in amusement, hands still busy with folding linens. “Gods, the princess is a lucky one, isn’t she? Prince Aemond seems like a total dreamboat compared to his brother.” She leaned closer to Sera, whispering. “Did you see his—?” 

“His what?” she replied, not fully understanding the cryptic tilt of her head and the smirk on her face.

“Well, you know… his High Tower!”

Both girls erupted into a fit of laughter, though old Hilda wasn’t too happy with their slacking off. 

The second time Sera had found herself bestowed another close glimpse of the couple was during the hour of the owl. You were only a few days away from term, and the maester had you isolated for the rites of seclusion prior to your labors. Aemond, in an isolated state of his own, was forbidden to visit you even in daylight for propriety’s sake. Your marital chambers never felt so empty, with your absence ridding it of any life that came with your mere presence.

It was a miserable affair, both for you and your husband. Sera had seen how the separation was affecting her princess. You were lonely, weary from the aches of your belly, and losing your appetite from the desolate state of your chambers. It had her worried, even more so when word of your husband’s anxious state reached her ears. She ought to do something, but she had little power over the order of the maesters, even more so when it was approved by the queen herself. 

Perhaps it was by fate when one night, she… forgot to close the door firmly behind her when she was granted her leave for the evening. It granted the prince entry, after many nights of pacing through the halls for any chance to slip into his wife’s chambers without being detected. She stayed in the shadows of an alcove, counting the minutes until she heard the familiar gait of the one-eyed prince taking the path she had just passed. 

She couldn’t help herself. With featherlight steps, Sera tiptoed back to your door, peeking through the slight crack left ajar. What she saw almost had her thinking it was a repeat of that one morning, but it was something far more intimate.

There he was, the one-eyed prince Aemond, kneeling before your seated form like a devotee. His face was nuzzled into your lap, his arms wrapped around the swollen bump that housed your offspring. Your hands rubbed down his back soothingly, while your cheeks glistened under the dim light of your chambers. Tears of happiness, Sera realized. Like always, your husband peppered kisses all over— your hands, your belly, even on the swell of your bosom that threatened to spill from your garments.

It was nothing debauched, nor depraved, but filled with far more passion than she had ever seen in her young life. She had never seen two souls so profoundly intertwined, deep into the throes of your love in a way that seemed unfathomable in this cruel life. It was no fairytale, but very much real. 

He looked unrecognizable like this, with a face so peaceful and a touch so gentle. His thin lips moved with words inaudible to Sera’s ears, but the way your face glowed brighter than it had been for these past days made the young girl’s chest swell with a yearning for something of her own. She could only pray that her princess would only find happiness in her marriage, and that the gods would grant herself a love that could be half as full as yours.

Prince Aemond was no man of big gestures. He was not one to scream his love from the rooftops, nor wear his heart on his sleeve, but with his forehead pressed into your bump, Sera learned that whispers of a true love were far greater than proclamations of folly.

Criston Cole did not believe in love. It was a fool’s wish. The only time he had gotten close to dabbling into the idea of it had left him broken, honor sullied for a princess who returned little of what he had given. Rhaenyra was a thorn in his past, and her bastards were a blatant reminder of his divulgence into her trap. Hence, his apprehension upon the news of the marriage of the heir’s only daughter to Alicent’s thirdborn. 

What was he to say? To do? Nothing. Criston had overstepped his bounds once and it had ended with his white cloak dirtied and his sanity balanced on the tip of his sword. This match was doomed to fail, he had no doubt of it, but he kept his mouth shut. The Dornishman was quite famed for his good swordsmanship, and his humble beginnings, but especially more so of his handsome looks. Olive skin, luscious dark locks, and wide brown orbs that glimmered like topaz under the southern sun. Those eyes held less composure than the rest of his face. They were a window of his thoughts, and they spoke of the words his tongue held back. Cole’s contempt for Rhaenyra’s blood was ever evident in the sharp gaze he threw your way. You were of your mother’s sin, yet you walked in these halls as if though you were anything but a blaring reminder of it. 

Criston knew of Aemond’s nature. He had spent many hours honing the young prince’s skills with a sword, had taken him and his mother to the Sept for their prayers. Cole had even held him while he writhed in pain when the maester took out the stitches of his slashed eye. The second prince shared his disdain for Rhaenyra and her brood, perhaps even more so than the knight himself. And so, he was well aware that Aemond found no positives in his marriage. 

For a while, the knight believed the younger to share such sentiments, but the stories of your blossoming marriage had filtered through the Keep, inevitably reaching the ears of the White Sword Tower. His response was nothing but a scoff. Criston did not consider himself a believer of such change, but when he began to see it for himself, his views faltered. 

Namedays of the royal family were always celebrated with grandeur and splendor. Helaena’s twins had just turned five, and the court had taken to the Kingswood for the royal hunt. It was a splendid affair, the young babes garnering much attention from the guests. Aegon, surprisingly enough, was enthusiastically present for his children. The elder held much love for his children, and it made for an endearing sight to see. This had lightened the attention on prince Aemond and his ladywife, who were bound to be parents of their own.

The news of your pregnancy had garnered much praise and well wishes from the court, and before you even began to grow round with child, all eyes were constantly on you and Aemond. Though that night, you had been granted reprieve. 

Cole stood beside the queen Alicent as she sat, ever faithfully upholding his duty. It was customary for him to scan the room constantly, keeping himself aware of any potential threat to his queen. There he found prince Aemond and his ladywife, secluded in their own little corner of the royal tent.

You had whispered something into Aemond’s ear with a cherubic smile, before covering your mouth with a ringed hand as giggles spilled from your lips. The knight fought back the urge to roll his dark, chocolate orbs at such a display, knowing the second prince well enough that such behavior did not bode well with him. 

Yet, he found himself mistaken. In the dim amber glow of the royal pavilion, it was easy to overlook the way Aemond’s silver tresses swayed as his head bowed followed by the most peculiar sight. The leather of his doublet moved up and down as his shoulders shook. Criston may have been granted only the sight of the prince’s back, but it was plain enough to see.

He was laughing. 

In all his years serving the Hightowers, the most he had ever seen from Aemond was a smirk, or a dark chuckle when he bested his mentor while they trained. Cole believed his eyes to be deceiving him, but the pleased look on your face and the bubbling laughter that echoed through the night was testament enough that you had the power to loosen the prince’s otherwise rigid grip on his composure. You were stuck to his side, heads huddled together as you whispered about gods know what. It might have been the wine or the warmth exuded by the torches littered about, but your cheeks were flushed like a rose. 

Beyond his conscience, the sight had pulled a smile of his own. Something akin to elation sweltered in the knight’s chest. It pleased him to see the prince so relaxed, free from the tension he always carried. Criston would have you to thank for it. 

Beside him, Alicent was looking at him as though he had grown a second head. Her sworn shield seldom found things that amused him, and even then, it was rather disturbing to her. “What amuses you, good ser?” she asked, taking Criston by surprise. His cheeks quickly dropped to his usual formal state, throat clearing to regain his composure. The queen, ever observant followed where his eyes had flickered to. Across from where she sat, her second son held an arm around his wife’s waist, whispering into each other’s ear while sharing a cup of wine. Wide smiles mirrored each other, their gazes focused on no one else but them. The sight made the queen’s cheeks dimple into a small smile, a warmth in her motherly heart filling her with hope. It had been many years ago when Alicent deemed herself cursed by the gods, given a fate so cruel. It had shaken her faith, even more so when it appeared to have trickled down to her children. Aemond had the worst of it— a dragon egg turned to stone, an eye cruelly taken, and a ghost of a father. She feared for what may become of him, with his wrath and fury that seemed to guide his aspirations. Yet now, as she watched her favored son let his wife take his cheek into her hand so publicly, Alicent prayed that the tides were turning for him. Perhaps you might change his fate. Perhaps he might be spared yet. “He’s been quite happy as of late,” Alicent mentioned, turning to Criston. A look filled with mirth equaled that of the Dornishman before her, who nodded in agreement.

“He has, my queen. It pleases me greatly to see the prince so content. The princess brings out the best in him,” Cole replied. They shared smiles of their own, and the knight felt emboldened by the glee they shared. He shuffled ever so closely to her seat, the warmth exuding from her pale flesh emanating through the cold steel of his armor. As they both watched you take Aemond’s hand to lead him out of the pavilion, Criston willed himself to keep his composure as Alicent ever so subtly leaned against his arm.

Criston was present in much of what happens in the royal family. He was there for every nameday, every birth, and every milestone that Alicent’s children had. Albeit, he was in the background, but he was there. It did not change when they became parents themselves, with Helaena and Aegon having three babes, while Aemond and his ladywife were now about to have a child of their own.

Aemond had been an anxious mess all morning. Your labors had begun just as dawn broke, and pursued well through noon. Queen Alicent made her way to your chambers to check on your well-being as soon as the council dispersed, with Cole naturally in tow. Your husband had to be pushed back by several knights as the grand maester forbade him to enter the birthing chamber, fighting to be by your side. Your wails and cries had him distressed, even more so when he could clearly hear you call for him. It was only when his mother arrived did Aemond settle, uneasily staying in the common room as she was permitted to see you in his stead.  “This is her fight, Aemond. You must let them do their work,” Alicent said, planting a soothing kiss on her son’s cheek before entering the birthing chamber. 

His mother’s presence did little to quench his worries, and the one-eyed prince had settled to lean on the windowsill, fists clenched on the stone as his head bowed. From his place by the door, Cole approached him with quiet steps, settling beside his tense form. “She will be alright,” he said. “The princess is strong. A dragon in her own right.” He was responded by only a grunt from the younger, who kept his good eye closed as he steadied his breathing.

It was quiet between the two, just as it always was with Aemond. The only sound in the room was your outcries of pain that only seemed to grow louder by the minute. With a heavy sigh, Aemond spoke. “What did she thank you for?”

“My prince?” Criston asked, confused.

“My wife. When she first arrived from Dragonstone, I heard her whisper her thanks to you, and her apology for having done so too late. What did she have to thank you for?”

Cole huffed a small chuckle at the memory. It was many, many years ago when you were merely a girl. You used to play with Helaena in the gardens so often, especially during the spring afternoons when the butterflies danced above the bushels of flowers. Alicent would find time to watch over the young princesses, with her sworn shield following their tail through the royal gardens.

One afternoon, both girls had been so enthusiastic with the amount of colorful butterflies that flittered about. Helaena had her eyes set on a pretty blue one, crossing the wooden footbridge over the small pond in the middle of the greenery. 

The pair made haste to follow the girls, but you came running back, with a quivering frown. You had clutched onto Criston’s cloak, refusing to cross over the small, wooden bridge. It was littered with frogs from the pond. The tiny green things gave you a fright, and Criston had to carry you in his arms over to where Helaena played in the grass. Your excitement had quickly been restored once your fear was gone, short legs quickly wriggling out of the knight’s grip to rejoin your aunt.

A decade later, you voiced your regrets over your rudeness and thanked Criston for his help on that day.

“It was for something so little that did not require such importance, but the princess was gracious to remember so,” Cole smiled. Aemond’s lips had lifted into a smile of his own at the thought of you, slim cheeks dimpling. 

“She is full of nothing but kindness,” the prince said fondly, straightening his posture with more ease. “I am rather undeserving of it.” Aemond’s response made Cole frown, the elder knight clasping the prince’s shoulder in a fatherly squeeze. 

“The gods have deemed you most deserving of it, Aemond. You were fated for each other. I have witnessed no other pair to have been more well suited in this lifetime, believe me.” Such words were so foreign to leave Cole’s lips, but they held no lie. A shrill cry had then pierced through the air, and Alicent had opened the door with a wide smile on her face. ‘Tis a girl! was her exclaim, and Aemond had rushed off from Criston’s side to see his wife. 

Pleased, the knight stayed in his place, off to the side as the royals celebrated yet a new beginning in their lives.

Criston may not believe in love, nor has he felt it, but he has seen it. 

It could be quite beautiful, he realized. 

The Silver and The Gold

- Summary: This was the first time you and Aegon acknowledged the bond between you, and the first time you are truly one.

- Paring: twin!reader/Aegon II

- Note: reader is referred to as Y/N and is bonded with dragon called Starfyre. If you want to read this series in chronological order, you can find the list of my works on my blog. The list is pinned to the top. This is currently considered part one. But it can be a part just for itself.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 5 191

The sun hangs low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the Red Keep. You and your twin, Aegon, have managed to slip away from your septa’s watchful eye once again, finding solace in one of the many hidden alcoves of the castle. These moments away from the prying eyes of the court are your favorites, the only times when you can be truly yourselves—just Y/N and Aegon, two halves of a whole, inseparable from the moment you entered this world together.

Your laughter echoes softly through the stone corridor as you both rush through a narrow passageway, your hand firmly clasped in his. Aegon’s pale blonde hair glows in the dim light, and when he glances back at you, there’s a mischievous sparkle in his violet eyes. You’ve both been caught sneaking away before, but the thrill of breaking the rules only adds to the excitement.

“Y/N,” he whispers with a grin, pulling you into a small chamber tucked away behind a tapestry. “They’ll never find us here.”

Your heart races, not from fear of getting caught, but from the proximity to him, the closeness you’ve always shared yet lately feels different, more charged. The chamber is small, barely furnished, but it feels like a world of your own. The tapestry falls back into place, cloaking you both in semi-darkness, the only light filtering in from a high, narrow window.

“We’ll be in such trouble if they find us,” you say, though there’s no true worry in your voice. The thrill of being alone with him like this, away from everyone’s expectations, makes it all worth it.

Aegon shrugs, a playful smirk on his lips. “When are we not in trouble?”

The truth of his words makes you both laugh again, and for a moment, it’s just like when you were children, chasing each other through the gardens, getting scolded for dirtying your clothes. But as your laughter fades, a tension fills the small space, thickening the air between you.

You’ve always been close to Aegon, closer than anyone else in your life. He’s been your constant companion, your protector, and your best friend. But lately, there’s been something more—a longing in his gaze, a flutter in your stomach when he brushes your hand, a sense that you both are standing on the edge of something new and terrifying.

“Aegon…” you begin, unsure of how to voice the feelings that have been swirling inside you.

He steps closer, his expression softening. “Y/N, I… there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.”

You look up at him, your breath catching as you see the earnestness in his eyes. He’s nervous, you realize, the ever-confident Aegon, unsure of himself for once. The realization emboldens you, and you reach out, your hand trembling slightly as you place it on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“I think I know,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

He covers your hand with his, his touch warm and steady. “Do you?” he asks, his tone soft, almost reverent. His free hand reaches up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly across your skin. The gentleness of the gesture sends a shiver down your spine, and you lean into his touch, your eyes drifting closed.

When his lips meet yours, it’s as though the world stops. The kiss is tentative at first, exploring, as if you’re both afraid of crossing an invisible line. But the moment your lips part and you taste him—sweet and warm and utterly intoxicating—everything changes. The kiss deepens, fueled by the years of unspoken feelings, of wanting and needing but never daring to take.

Aegon’s hands slide to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. Your own hands find their way to his shoulders, then into his hair, threading through the silken strands as you press yourself against him. The kiss becomes more urgent, more desperate, as if you’re both trying to make up for all the time you’ve wasted.

You’re not sure when it happens, but at some point, you find yourself lying back on the small bed in the corner of the chamber, Aegon above you. His kisses trail from your lips to your jaw, down the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Your breathing is ragged, your heart pounding as his hands explore the curves of your body, as if he’s trying to memorize every inch of you.

“Y/N,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice rough with desire. “I need you… I’ve always needed you.”

His words send a jolt of electricity through you, and you arch into him, your body responding to his touch in a way that feels both entirely new and utterly familiar. You’ve always belonged to him, just as he has always belonged to you. It’s as if this moment was inevitable, written in the stars long before you were born.

“I’m yours, Aegon,” you whisper, the confession slipping from your lips before you can second-guess it. “I’ve always been yours.”

His gaze darkens, and you see the shift in him, the realization that you’re his just as much as he is yours. The passion between you ignites, and the world outside the small chamber fades away. There’s only Aegon—his touch, his breath, the way he makes you feel more alive than you’ve ever felt before.

Your clothes are discarded in a tangle of limbs and heated kisses, and when he finally joins with you, it’s like the world is remade. The sensation is overwhelming, a mixture of pain and pleasure that leaves you gasping, but the way he looks at you, the way he whispers your name, makes it all worth it. He moves within you, and the rhythm you find together is as natural as breathing, as if you were made for this, for each other.

Time loses meaning as you both give in to the storm of emotions that has been building for so long. And when it’s over, when you’re both spent and breathless, you lie tangled together on the bed, the air between you charged with something new, something that can never be undone.

“I love you,” Aegon whispers, his voice hoarse but filled with a sincerity that makes your heart swell. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch tender, almost reverent.

“I love you too,” you reply, the words feeling right, like they’ve always been there, just waiting to be spoken.

You’re about to kiss him again when the door to the chamber creaks open. You both freeze, your eyes wide with shock as you turn toward the sound. A servant stands in the doorway, her face pale, her eyes wide with disbelief at the sight before her.

For a moment, no one moves. The servant seems to realize what she’s walked in on, her hand flying to her mouth as she stammers an apology. She backs out of the room quickly, her footsteps echoing down the corridor as she flees, leaving you and Aegon alone once more.

Your heart races, panic and embarrassment flooding you. But when you look at Aegon, you see that he’s not afraid. He’s smiling, a slow, confident grin that makes your heart flutter.

“Let them talk,” he says, his voice steady. “I don’t care what they say, Y/N. You’re mine, and I’m yours. Nothing will change that.”

His words calm the storm inside you, and you smile back at him, knowing he’s right. Whatever happens next, you’ll face it together, just as you always have.

The grand hall of the Red Keep is bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun as King Viserys Targaryen lounges on his throne, a sense of contentment softening the lines of his aging face. His golden crown rests heavily on his brow, but the weight of it seems lighter today as he speaks with Otto Hightower, his trusted Hand. Queen Alicent, ever dutiful, stands nearby, her hands folded neatly in front of her.

The rhythmic sound of booted feet echoes through the hall, growing louder as the doors swing open to admit a pair of Dragonkeepers. They stride forward, their faces marked with the quiet reverence that always accompanies news from the Dragonpit.

“Your Grace,” one of them begins, bowing low. “We bring news of the dragons, Sunfyre and Starfyre.”

Viserys leans forward, his interest piqued. His voice carries the weight of authority but also a grandfatherly warmth. “Speak then, what of the golden and the silver?”

The Dragonkeeper straightens, his voice steady but tinged with awe. “Sunfyre has successfully mounted Starfyre. They have mated, Your Grace.”

A collective breath seems to fill the hall, a hum of interest and excitement threading through the air. Viserys’s eyes light up with pleasure, his mind already considering the implications. “This is indeed prosperous news for our House. If their union brings forth viable eggs, it will be a blessing of great fortune.”

Beside him, Alicent nods in agreement, though her attention wavers as a servant, face pale and anxious, approaches her with hurried steps. The servant leans close, whispering into the Queen’s ear. Alicent’s expression shifts, her eyes widening before narrowing into a tight, painful grimace.

Viserys notices, his brows knitting together in concern. “Alicent, what troubles you? Speak plainly.”

The Queen hesitates, her gaze flitting to Otto before settling on Viserys. Her voice is low, strained. “It is… the twins, Your Grace. They… they were found together, in an intimate situation. They had eluded their septa.”

The words hang in the air, and for a moment, there is silence. Viserys’s face hardens, but there is something else in his eyes—a flicker of understanding, perhaps, or resignation.

“Aegon and Y/N…” he murmurs, his voice trailing off. He closes his eyes briefly, then sighs deeply. “The blood of the dragon runs hot, it seems.”

Otto shifts uncomfortably, but it is Alicent who speaks next, her voice taut with disapproval. “They are young, but such behavior is… unbecoming, Your Grace. They must be reminded of their duty, of what is expected of them.”

Viserys opens his eyes, looking at Alicent with a mixture of weariness and something almost like amusement. “They are twins, born together, bound by blood and by fire. Is it so surprising that they would find comfort in each other, as their dragons do?”

Alicent’s lips press into a thin line, but she does not respond, sensing the futility of arguing with the king on this matter.

Viserys continues, his gaze distant as he muses aloud. “Sunfyre and Starfyre—brother and sister, golden and silver, a union as beautiful as it is powerful. They were born in the same moment, just as Aegon and Y/N were. Their bond is not one of simple affection; it is something deeper, something… ancient. The dragons choose their riders, and perhaps, in some way, they guide them too.”

The comparison is not lost on anyone in the room. Sunfyre and Starfyre, two magnificent creatures, both radiant with their own unique beauty, have chosen to mate, their union a symbol of strength and unity for House Targaryen. And like their dragons, Aegon and Y/N share a bond that goes beyond mere sibling affection, a bond forged in fire, blood, and the shared legacy of their house.

Alicent’s discomfort is palpable, but Viserys waves a hand, dismissing her concerns with a sigh. “They are of age soon enough, and they will wed as is our custom. This will strengthen the bloodline, as it has always done. There is no shame in what has happened, only the inevitability of it.”

The room falls silent once more, the tension easing slightly as Viserys’s words settle over them. The Dragonkeepers, still standing at attention, exchange glances before the king waves them away.

“Go,” Viserys says, “and let us hope that Sunfyre and Starfyre’s union blesses us with eggs, and that the fire of our blood burns ever brighter.”

As the Dragonkeepers leave, Alicent glances at Otto, her discomfort still visible. Otto, ever the strategist, simply inclines his head slightly, acknowledging the situation but offering no further comment.

Viserys, his mind already drifting to other matters, leans back in his throne. “Aegon and Y/N…” he murmurs again, almost to himself. “They are as their dragons, destined to be together. Let them be. They will learn their duties soon enough.”

The conversation moves on, but the parallel between the dragons and their riders lingers, unspoken but understood. You and Aegon, like Sunfyre and Starfyre, are bound by something elemental, something that neither courtly expectations nor the disapproval of others can sever. The fire of your shared blood burns bright, and as Viserys himself has said, it is inevitable.

And as you stand by Aegon’s side, you cannot help but feel the truth of it in your very bones.

The dawn breaks over the Red Keep, casting its golden light through the high windows of the royal chambers. The warmth of the sun does little to thaw the icy tension that fills the room as Queen Alicent stands before you and Aegon, her expression a mixture of stern disapproval and maternal concern.

You and Aegon sit side by side on a cushioned bench, close enough that your thighs touch, your fingers occasionally brushing as though neither of you can bear to be apart for even a moment. Aegon’s hand rests casually on your knee, a gesture of comfort and possession that seems to rile Alicent further. She stands before you both, her arms crossed, her lips pressed into a thin line as she gathers herself to speak.

"Do you understand the gravity of what you have done?" Alicent’s voice is sharp, each word carefully enunciated as though she needs to be sure you both understand.

Aegon lifts a shoulder in a careless shrug, his expression almost bored. "What we’ve done, mother, is what was expected of us. Or will be, soon enough." His voice is tinged with the arrogance of someone who knows his place and feels no need to apologize for it.

Alicent’s eyes narrow at his nonchalance, her voice rising slightly as she responds, "Expected of you? To dishonor yourselves in such a way, before your wedding even takes place? This is not just a matter of propriety, Aegon. You were found in an… improper situation, one that brings shame upon you both."

Aegon scoffs, leaning back against the bench, his arm slipping around your waist, drawing you closer to him. "Shame? There is no shame between us. We are to be wed, and what we do now is no different than what we will do once it’s official. The dragons have already shown us the way—why should we deny what is natural?"

His words are blunt, almost crude in their simplicity, and they make Alicent flinch. She shakes her head, clearly frustrated by her son’s cavalier attitude. "You are too flippant, Aegon. You speak as though this is a game, but there are consequences to your actions, even if you do not see them now."

Aegon tightens his hold on you, his gaze unwavering as he meets his mother’s eyes. "There are no consequences that matter, not when the King himself sees no issue. Father understands what we are, what we will be. Why can’t you?"

Alicent’s cheeks flush with anger, and she turns to you, as though seeking an ally in her reprimand. "And you, Y/N? How is it that you two continue to escape your septa’s watchful eyes? This is not the first time, and yet you act as though your actions have no meaning. What do you have to say for yourself?"

Your heart beats steadily in your chest as you look up at your mother, your expression calm. "We did what we had to, mother. The septa cannot keep us apart, and I would not let her even if she tried. Aegon and I…" You pause, searching for the right words. "We are meant to be together, as our dragons are. We are stronger together, and we find peace in each other’s company. Why should we be made to feel guilty for that?"

Alicent’s frustration gives way to something like despair as she realizes that neither of you feel any remorse for your actions. She looks between you and Aegon, her voice softer but no less stern. "You must understand that your behavior reflects on the entire House. You carry the weight of our name, and with that comes the responsibility to act with honor. Your bond is strong, yes, but it must be guided by duty as much as by affection."

Aegon’s grip on you tightens, and he leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple in a gesture that is both tender and defiant. "We know our duty, mother. But our bond is our own. No one, not even you, can dictate how we choose to honor it."

The intimacy between you and Aegon, your heads leaning toward one another, your bodies close, is a silent but powerful statement. It speaks of a love that is as much a part of you as the blood in your veins, a love that refuses to be shamed or hidden away.

Alicent looks away, clearly uncomfortable with the display of affection before her. She takes a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she tries one last time to reach you. "I only want what is best for you both. But you must be careful. The court is full of eyes, and tongues wag far too easily. You must be above reproach, especially as the future of this House."

Aegon’s expression softens slightly, though his resolve does not waver. "We understand, mother. But know this—we will not deny what we are. Not for the court, not for anyone. We are dragons, and dragons are not meant to be tamed."

Alicent studies you both for a long moment, and then, with a weary sigh, she nods. "Very well. But know that I will not be so lenient if this happens again. The next time, I will not hesitate to involve your father directly, and you will not like the consequences of that."

With those final words, Alicent turns and leaves the room, her posture rigid with the effort of maintaining her composure. The door closes behind her with a quiet click, and the tension in the room seems to dissipate the moment she is gone.

You and Aegon remain seated, your bodies still close, but now, the air between you feels lighter, freer. Aegon looks at you, a slow smile spreading across his face. "That wasn’t so bad, was it?" he says, his tone playful.

You smile back, leaning into him as you feel his warmth against your side. "No, it wasn’t. But I wish she could understand. We’re not like everyone else."

Aegon nods, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm. "She’ll never understand, not fully. But that doesn’t matter. What matters is that we do, and nothing will change that."

You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. "Nothing will change that," you echo softly, knowing the truth of those words deep within your soul.

The heavy oak doors to your chambers close behind you with a quiet thud, sealing the world outside as you and Aegon stumble into the room. The thrill of the night’s stolen moments pulses in your veins, a heady mixture of wine and newfound desire that has you both breathless with anticipation. Your heart races as Aegon pulls you to him, his lips capturing yours in a fierce, urgent kiss.

The taste of wine lingers on his tongue, sweet and intoxicating, as he presses against you, his hands already working at the laces of your gown. You reach for his tunic in turn, your fingers trembling with impatience as you tug at the fabric, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

“We have too many clothes,” Aegon murmurs against your lips, his voice low and rough with need. There’s a teasing edge to his words, but the fire in his eyes is anything but playful.

“Then we should get rid of them,” you reply breathlessly, your hands finally finding purchase on his tunic and pulling it over his head. His skin is warm under your touch, his muscles taut with the tension of restraint quickly unraveling.

Aegon chuckles, a sound that vibrates through you, sending a shiver down your spine. “I couldn’t agree more.”

In your haste, the two of you stumble over each other, half-laughing, half-moan as you attempt to discard your clothing. Your gown pools at your feet as Aegon steps out of his trousers, the two of you moving in a frantic dance across the chamber, neither of you willing to break the contact of your bodies for even a moment.

Aegon’s hands find your waist, lifting you with an ease born of familiarity as he backs you toward a nearby table. Your back meets the cool wood, and you gasp as he pushes your legs apart, his fingers digging into your thighs as he leans over you, his breath hot against your neck.

“You drive me mad,” he whispers, his voice thick with desire as his lips brush your ear, trailing kisses down the column of your throat.

You arch into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer. “And I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you breathe, your words lost in a gasp as he enters you, a moan of pleasure escaping your lips at the feeling of him filling you.

Aegon’s hands grip your hips as he moves, his movements frantic, driven by the urgency of a fire that neither of you can quench. The table creaks under your combined weight, but the noise only spurs him on, his lips finding yours again in a searing kiss.

“I need more of you,” he groans against your mouth, his voice hoarse as he pulls you off the table, your legs wrapping around his waist as he attempts to carry you to the bed.

You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, but in your haste, his foot catches on the edge of a rug, sending you both tumbling to the floor in a tangle of limbs. The fall jolts a laugh from you, the sound bubbling up between moans as you feel the press of him inside you, undeterred by the sudden change in position.

“Aegon,” you gasp, your voice a mix of laughter and desire as you move together, the hard floor beneath you forgotten in the heat of the moment.

He chuckles, a breathless sound that vibrates against your skin. “I think the bed is overrated anyway,” he says, his hands roaming over your body as he thrusts into you with renewed fervor.

You can only moan in response, your body arching into his as the two of you continue your desperate union, every movement fueled by the need to be closer, to feel more of each other.

Eventually, the bed does beckon, and somehow, in the midst of your fevered passion, you find yourselves on it, the soft sheets a welcome change from the hard floor. Aegon’s pace slows slightly as he pulls you against him, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that is no less passionate but now tempered with a kind of tenderness that makes your heart ache.

“You’re mine,” he whispers against your lips, his voice filled with a possessive intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“And you’re mine,” you reply, your voice soft but no less fierce, your hands caressing his face as you look into his eyes, the connection between you deepening with every word, every touch.

The night stretches on, the two of you losing yourselves in each other again and again, until finally, you collapse into each other’s arms, exhausted but satisfied, the fire between you finally quenched, at least for the moment.

As you lay there, your bodies tangled together under the covers, Aegon presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hand stroking your hair as you drift toward sleep.

“Nothing will ever keep us apart,” he murmurs, his voice a soft promise in the quiet of the night.

You smile, your heart swelling with love as you snuggle closer to him, knowing that no matter what the world throws at you, nothing could ever break the bond you share. And as you drift into sleep, the last thing you feel is the warmth of his body against yours, the steady beat of his heart a comforting reminder that you are exactly where you belong.

The first light of dawn barely touches the sky, casting a pale glow over the Red Keep. The room is dim and warm, filled with the remnants of last night's indulgence—half-empty goblets of wine, discarded garments strewn across the floor, and the heady scent of passion lingering in the air.

You lay tangled in the silk sheets with Aegon, your bare bodies pressed together under the covers. His arm is draped lazily over your waist, and your head rests comfortably on his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breath. The night had been a blur of laughter, whispered confessions, and the kind of love that leaves you both breathless and content.

But the peace of the morning is abruptly shattered as the door to your chamber bursts open. Before either of you can react, the heavy curtains are yanked aside, flooding the room with blinding sunlight. You groan, burying your face in Aegon’s chest to escape the sudden brightness, while he lets out a disgruntled noise of protest.

“For the love of—” Aegon begins, but his complaint is cut short as the covers are ripped away, leaving you both exposed to the cool morning air and the stern gaze of your septa.

“Good morning, my prince, my princess,” she says briskly, her tone making it clear that there’s nothing good about this morning at all. The septa, a stern woman named Septa Maris, has the kind of face that rarely cracks a smile, and this morning is no exception. Her greying hair is pulled back tightly, and her eyes are sharp as they take in the scene before her.

Aegon squints up at her, clearly annoyed. “Septa Maris, what in the seven hells are you doing here at this hour?”

Septa Maris doesn’t so much as flinch at his language. “I am here under the Queen’s orders, Your Grace. Her Majesty has instructed me to ensure that you both maintain a presentable state until your wedding. And further to that matter—” she pauses, her gaze hardening as she looks between you and Aegon, “—you will no longer be sharing a bed until you are properly wed.”

You feel Aegon tense beside you, his annoyance quickly shifting to anger. “That’s absurd,” he snaps. “We’re to be wed soon enough. What difference does it make if we share a bed now or later?”

Septa Maris raises an eyebrow, her tone unyielding. “The difference, Your Grace, is in the propriety of it. You may do as you wish after your vows are spoken, but until then, you will adhere to the customs of our house. Now, both of you, up.”

Aegon groans again, dropping his head back onto the pillow with a dramatic sigh. “This is ridiculous.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his exasperation, and you reach over to brush a lock of his silver hair from his forehead. “Come now, Aegon, you know she won’t leave until we do as she says.”

He turns his head to look at you, his violet eyes gleaming with mischief. “Perhaps we should just ignore her and see if she gives up.”

Septa Maris, unimpressed by the suggestion, clears her throat loudly. “You will rise, both of you, and make yourselves presentable. I will not leave until it is done.”

Aegon lets out another exaggerated sigh but begins to sit up, clearly not thrilled about being dragged out of bed so early. You follow suit, wrapping a sheet around yourself as you move to the edge of the bed.

“There,” Aegon says with a smirk as he tosses his legs over the side of the bed, “we’re up. Are you satisfied now, Septa Maris?”

Septa Maris’s gaze sharpens as she catches sight of the wine-stained goblets on the nightstand and the scattered clothes. “Hardly. You both look like you’ve been dragged through the Dornish desert. You will wash, dress, and present yourselves properly before the Queen hears of this.”

Aegon rolls his eyes but stands, stretching his arms above his head, entirely unconcerned with his state of undress. You can’t help but admire the way the early light plays across his skin, the easy confidence in the way he moves.

“Fine, fine,” he grumbles as he reaches for a discarded tunic. “But don’t think for a moment that we’ll abide by this ridiculous rule of yours. You might keep us apart during the day, but the nights belong to us.”

Septa Maris’s expression is as stern as ever, but there’s a flicker of frustration in her eyes as she turns her attention to you. “And you, my lady, you should know better than to indulge your brother in such folly. You are a princess, and princesses must uphold the highest standards of conduct.”

You offer her a small, apologetic smile as you gather your own clothes, though you’re not feeling particularly sorry. “Of course, Septa. I’ll do my best to remember that.”

Aegon snorts at your diplomatic response, pulling his tunic over his head. “Oh, we’ll remember it, all right. And then we’ll forget it again as soon as she’s out of earshot.”

Septa Maris steps forward, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough of this insolence. Lady Y/N, come with me now. You will bathe and dress properly before the morning meal.”

You and Aegon exchange a look as she says this, a silent communication passing between you. His eyes are filled with defiance and a promise—one that says no septa, no matter how stern, could ever keep you apart.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” Aegon says, his voice light and teasing as he steps closer, his hand brushing yours. “We’ll find a way, as we always do.”

You squeeze his hand briefly before stepping away, following Septa Maris toward the door. “I know,” you say softly, a smile playing at your lips. “No septa or gods could ever keep us apart.”

As you walk away, you feel Aegon’s gaze on you, warm and reassuring. The two of you might be separated for now, but it’s only a matter of time before you find each other again, as you always do. And the thought of that next secret rendezvous, hidden away from prying eyes, fills you with a thrill that no amount of propriety could ever diminish.

And as you leave the room, you’re already thinking of the many ways you can outmaneuver your septa, the promise of another night together fueling your every step.

Bravery in love

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: For Prince Aemond Targaryen, bravery was in war and fighting. Until he met his wife and learned about different forms of bravery.

WARNING: No age restriction. Unhealthy amounts of cuteness and softness, a tiny bit of pain, and one paragraphs of sexual innuendo.

Word cont: 3.500 k

Author's note: Okay I saw a really cute video of a baby discovering that she could move her legs whenever she wanted and she was so cute and I ended up writing this story which is basically a giant fluff hahahaha. English is not my first language so be kind if you can 💕💕.

♡-♡-♡

The sun was already high in Kings Landing on a beautiful warm spring day, the beauty of the season lifted everyone's spirits, but no one had a bigger smile than Princess Y/n, Prince Aemond's wife as she ran to the bedroom door to tell them to call her husband.

The two had been married for two whole years at this point, an arrangement made between Aemond's grandfather and her father. Initially Y/n was apprehensive about the marriage, considering the many terrible stories she had heard of women who had married before her. But upon meeting Prince Aemond, her heart melted for him before she even realized it.

He seemed cold and hard at first when she arrived at the capital, but then suddenly he was so shy and so sweet when they were alone in the garden to talk for the first time. And when Y/n said she liked stories, he smiled, turning his face to the side and told her that he also really liked stories.

Later that night, when Y/n returned to her room, she found a book with a black leather cover and the title "Rhaenys, the bravery of love" next to a very small blue flower. The young lady thought she would faint right there when she touched the soft petals of the flower.

Then came the wedding and after that nothing but happiness with her husband. Every day the two became closer and trusted each other more, to the point that Aemond told her his deepest sorrows and she in return confided hers, and little by little she realized that everything her husband wanted most was just be loved, and that's what she did, she loved him.

Y/n felt happy in a way she never thought would be possible, there was only one problem, it had been a year since the wedding and her belly still hadn't shown any signs of growing. And it wasn't as if she and her husband weren't trying, after they both became acquainted Aemond became thirsty for touch and planted his seed in her every day, sometimes more than once a day, which made her even more worried.

The cruel whispers had already taken over the fortress. Words like "infertility" and "dry womb" became common when they thought she wasn't listening. And as broken as Y/n's heart was, she tried hard to pretend to her husband that it didn't hurt that much. She knew how much Aemond wanted a child, and it was her duty to give him one, guilt plagued her when she thought about it, thinking that she couldn't do so little for a husband who gave her everything she asked for without blinking.

On a winter afternoon with the weather colder than usual in the capital, Y/n was sitting alone in the garden admiring a pair of nightingales that had made a nest in a nearby tree when she felt Aemond's soft but possessive touch pulling her towards him.

-What are you doing here in this cold weather? You'll freeze. - His low voice sounded against her ear and she just smiled weakly.

-I like coming here, it's where we had our first conversation, remember? - She looked at him. - It always makes me happy to think about that day when I don't feel cheerful.

-And why would the most beautiful lady in the realms be sad? - Aemond looked at her deeply, Y/n felt as if he saw through her soul and still trying to hide his sadness, he looked down at the ground.

-Wife. - His gloved fingers guided her chin up and she couldn't escape his gaze again. - I know something is wrong, tell me.

And Y/n could no longer contain herself, the tears that were very well kept ran loose down her face as she hid them in her husband's chest, sobbing and trembling while holding on tightly to him, as if he would evaporate before her.

-I'm sorry, husband! - She sobbed against his chest.

-Y/n, my dear, did someone hurt you? - His voice sounded calm but with barely contained anger as he pulled her closer and closer in an act of protection. - Tell me who it was and I will kill him myself.

-No one has hurt me, husband. - She leaned against him, still pulling on his jerkin. - It's just me and my apparent inability to grant you a child.

-It is not up to you to grant me a child. - He said, looking at her firmly as he brought his hands to her face. - That depends on the will of the gods, when they feel it's time, they will send us a son. Until then, I don't want to see you crying because of this. - He stroked her cheeks with his fingertips and Y/n smiled, her face still slightly wet.

-Now let's go in and have some tea, I don't want you to catch a cold. - He guided her inside by the waist.

That night, amidst moans and groans of love and burning passion, Rhaenys was conceived to the joy and pride of her mother and father.

To Aemond's relief, Y/n had an easy and uncomplicated pregnancy; she just had a burning desire for him and wanted him inside her every hour of the day without rest, something he granted without discussion after a extensive research to find out if it would not pose a risk to his wife or the baby.

The birth was not much different, it was late summer and the weather was starting to get cooler, but even so, it was a difficult time and Aemond did not leave Y/n's side at any time, and the maesters did not dare ask him to leave the birthing chambers more than once after the absolutely deadly look Aemond gave them at the first request.

And when Y/n cried and told her husband that she was scared, he grabbed her hand tightly and whispered only for her to hear.

-I know you can do it, my sweet girl. - Leaving a kiss on her sweaty chest.

-I am not as brave as you. - She cried while shaking her head and holding onto her husband's hands.

-Remember that there is also bravery in love. - Aemond spoke softly, but confidently as he squeezed her hand.

And after hearing that with restored strength at the thought of her little baby, Y/n pushed even harder as she screamed through the pain and could finally hear the sweet cry of her little girl. At that very moment she burst into tears of pure relief and emotion, and when the maester placed her in her arms wrapped in a bloody white cloth she could swear she saw her husband shed a tear or two too.

And with passionate smiles the two chose the name of their little daughter in honor of the conqueror who gave the title to the first gift that Aemond gave her on the day they met. And from that sweet moment on, little Rhaenys became the pride and joy of both their lives.

Almost 7 moons later, already in spring Y/n now felt that her happiness was complete. The sparkle in her eyes could be seen from miles away as she played with her little daughter who had begun to sit up on her own. With each new discovery Rhaenys made, Aemond and Y/n celebrated as if it were a victory in a tournament.

One of the sweetest moments was the day she discovered she could control her own legs. It was something so simple, but so sweet. They were sitting on the bed talking while Rhaenys absentmindedly played with a small wooden sculpture in the shape of a dragon, using it to scratch the teeth that had bothered her since birth.

Suddenly, when they both looked, Rhaenys was laughing as she slowly raised her left leg and watched with a look of delight, only to do the same with her right leg and then lean forward trying to grab her own legs, smiling and babbling.

They both smiled and looked at her full of love, everything was perfect and Y/n had never felt so good in her life. Except for the fact that two days later she discovered that the court had not stopped talking about her. Y/n was walking distractedly towards her own chambers when she heard the whispers and low laughter of other ladies.

-So long to be able to give the prince a child and when she does, it's a girl. - The mockery was clear in that voice.

-Poor Prince Aemond, how much longer will it take until she can give him an heir? - Another lady laughed while whispering. - He'll have to settle for just a daughter, it seems.

Y/n felt her eyes watering at the same moment and accelerated her pace towards the rooms while breathing deeply trying to contain her tears and with a deep sigh she entered her own chambers while wiping away a tear that escaped. As soon as she raised her head and looked at the room she almost smiled at the scene before her.

Aemond sat on the carpet with his long legs crossed with his little Rhaenys held in his arms, his voice sounded softly through the room and now Y/n smiled genuinely when she saw what he was doing.

-Say Kepa. – Aemond smiled gently at his daughter. - Kepa. - He spoke more slowly while gently caressing the child's back.

Her husband was always trying to teach her to say "father" in Valyrian, and the little girl just babbled as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and smiled toothlessly at her father. Aemond swore that she was almost able to do it and that she had even said a syllable to him when they were alone. The prince, feeling like he was being watched, raised his head and smiled softly when he saw his wife standing near the door.

-Your muña is back byka sõvion. (Little butterfly) - He murmured softly to his daughter as he gently shook her and made the little girl smile. Aemond's loving gaze gradually faded as he noticed his wife's melancholy and he carefully placed Rhaenys on the carpet, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of her slightly curly silver hair.

-Umbagon va se ritz byka sõvion. - (Stay on the carpet little butterfly) He whispered as if his little daughter could understand every word and she just screamed and babbled while slapping her hands on the carpet.

The prince walked slowly to his wife and pulled her closer to him, caressing her hips with the tips of his thumbs.

-What's wrong, Issa jorrāelagon? - Aemond murmured against her forehead, leaving a kiss there and then brushing his nose against hers.

-People can be very cruel sometimes. - She sighed against her husband's neck, and Aemond felt his own blood burn in his veins at the prospect of someone being cruel to his Y/n.

-Who had the audacity to say anything to you? - Aemond's voice was restrained, but anger dripped from the corners of his lips and Y/n just shook her head quickly as she laid her head on his chest.

-Just nasty whispers.

-What kind of whispers? - He continued with his voice carefully restrained as he pulled her closer and closer, holding her tightly.

-Does it matter to you that I gave birth to a girl? - She looked him in the eye with pain. - Would you rather have had a son?

-Sīkudi nopāzmi. (Seven hells) - Aemond practically growled with his face contorted with rage as he held Y/n's face firmly between his palms. - Qilōni istan se wretched gīs qilōni naejot vestragon bona naejot ao? Ivestragon issa ābrazȳrys! (Who was the wretched soul who dared to say that to you? Tell me, wife!)

Y/n looked at him confused, not understanding what he had said other than ābrazȳrys. And breathing deeply, trying to control his own nerves, Aemond repeated more calmly while rubbing his wife's arms gently.

-Tell me who was wife. - He asked, looking deeply into her eyes. - Who dared to say such a thing to you?

-I just heard it when I was passing by. - Y/n had seen who it was, but she wouldn't tell him because she knew her husband would do something about it.

Aemond snorted again and pulled her back to him.

-Wife, I don't want you to listen to such nonsense ever again in your life. - He murmured to her. - You and our daughter are everything in my life, and although I wish to have more children, if we had no more besides Rhaenys I would be the happiest man in this cursed land for having you.

-To issi issa glaeson. - He sighed as he tucked a lock of Y/n's hair behind her ear.

-What does that mean? - She asked slightly emotional.

-You are my life. - He repeated, looking firmly into her eyes as he squeezed her hands in his. - And there is nothing I value more than you and our byka sõvion.

He smirked as he looked at Rhaenys who had laid down and was now trying to shove her own foot into her mouth while spluttering and laughing.

-You know me better than anyone else, wife, and I'm honest when I tell you that I've never been happier in my entire life than I am now. Our family brings me joy.

The smile on Y/n's face could warm even those beyond the wall as she jumped on her husband and hugged him happily.

-I love you, husband. - She sighed against his neck, Aemond didn't respond, but he never responded, at least not with those exact words, his heart was much more complex than that.

More moons passed, and Aemond became increasingly enchanted by his daughter, his eyes shining with each evolution and discovery that the little girl made. He never wanted to miss anything, he liked to be there for every little new thing and he made it clear to Y/n that she should call him anytime and that's what she did on one special day.

-Send for my husband! As soon as possible. - Y/n hissed at one of the maids who was passing by the hallway. The young woman nodded and ran without even looking back towards the training courtyard to look for the prince.

-Your grace, forgiveness for the interruption. - The girl said, looking at the ground. - But your wife urgently requested your presence.

Aemond's chest was briefly breathless when he heard that, and without caring about anything else, he dropped his sword on the floor and ran towards his own chambers.

He entered the room calling for his wife with wide eye, but his expression changed from fear to curiosity when he saw her with her index finger against her lips in a clear sign of silence for him, while with her other hand she pointed to the foot of the sofa where Rhaenys was standing for the first time as she tried to walk on her own.

Aemond's jaw dropped, and he felt tears coming to his eye, his little girl was almost walking.

-You forgot. - Y/n smiled and gently pulled off her husband's eyepatch, throwing it on the table. She had convinced him not to wear it around Rhaenys. At first he hesitated, but it proved to be a good thing since the little girl was completely enchanted by the sparkle of the sapphire in her father's eye, always reaching out her hands towards him and gently rubbing the area while she babbled. And Aemond wouldn't admit it out loud, but that small gesture of affection made him feel loved in a whole new way that he had never felt before.

Still with tears in his eye, Aemond turned away he slowly approached the couch as he crouched down next to his daughter, who, upon seeing him, screamed with excitement and took an excited step towards him. And as if all of this wasn't the most magical thing that had ever happened to him, Rhaenys began to babble as she tried to walk towards her father.

-Ke - She babbled waving her free hand towards him and Aemond felt his heart warm. - Ke-pa.

-Konir sagon paktot byka sõvion, māzigon tosh kepa. (That's right, my little butterfly, come with daddy) - He whispered to his daughter with a slightly cloudy voice.

-Kepah! - She screamed in that sweet baby voice as she took her hand off the couch to clap her hands and before she could fall on her butt on the floor, Aemond caught her, preventing her from falling while two tears ran down his eye. Rhaenys looked at him with wide eyes, a little scared after almost falling, but Aemond caressed her back affectionately, calming her.

-Ziry iksos byka sõvion, kepa kessa dōrī ivestragī ao ropagon. (It's okay, little butterfly, daddy will never let you fall.) - He smiled as more tears fell and Rhaenys looked at him enchanted as she once again caressed the sapphire attached to her father's eye. - Dõrī. (Never) - He reaffirmed with a look of pure love.

Rhaenys had said her first words and Y/n did not understand what her husband was saying to her daughter, just a few words that he had already taught her and the sweet nickname he gave Rhaenys, but her heart was so warm that Y/n thought it might be on fire. She could see the love overflowing from her husband's eyes in an uncontrollable way and at that moment Lady Y/n knew that only she and her little Rhaenys were enough.

About a moon later Aemond decided it was time to introduce his daughter to Vhagar. And after a short trip in the house on wheels and a walk along the edge of the royal forest they arrived at the immense dragon. Y/n already knew her, she had even flown on Vhagar with Aemond, but even so she was a little afraid for Rhaenys, something that she told herself was completely unfounded because of all the people in the world she knew that the only one who would never do anything that could put her Rhaenys at risk was Aemond.

The prince had barely approached the dragon with his daughter and she was already looking at him curiously, still with her head lying on the meadow. And while Aemond spoke to her in Valyrian, Y/n just smiled in love, the smile only got bigger after Rhaenys laughed and screamed as she took her little hands to caress the dragon's scales while babbling some incoherent things to her father.

-She'll be a formidable dragon rider one day. - Aemond stated seriously as he smiled sideways at his wife who just rolled her eyes unable to imagine her little girl on a beast that size, but she knew she had to get used to the idea, she was a Targaryen after all.

-If she's as good as her father, she'll be the best of them all. - Y/n smiled as she caressed her husband's back and left a kiss against her daughter's soft hair.

At the answer, Aemond smiled and pulled her by the waist closer to him and his daughter while leaving a sweet kiss on her lips.

-You've told me more than once that you're not brave. - He murmured against her lips as he gently brushed his own lips against hers. - But you were brave to love me when no one else tried. Thank you for being everything I wanted, everything I needed.

After saying that he extended a small flower with blue petals to her and smiled a little shyly as he made Rhaenys more comfortable in his arms.

And with tears in her eyes, Lady Y/n reached out and took the small, soft flower between her fingers, then hugged him and her smiling daughter, knowing that in her husband's strange and rigid language, that was an I love you.

Since Aemond was courageous enough to ride huge dragons, engage in sword duels and so many other dangerous things, but simple words terrified him. She didn't need them, she knew how to read her husband's heart, eyes and actions that told Y/n every hour of every day that he loved her, and even if he didn't love her, she was brave enough to love for both of them.

And with that thought she smiled and kissed him sweetly on the lips as she held both him and her precious Rhaenys close, her beloved most precious possessions.

Perfect Where Her Rival Fails.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Dark!Reader, Rafe Cameron x Sofia’s Bestfriend!Reader

Summary: Rafe thought Sofia would be the one to fix him.. that was until he met her best friend and became so much worse

A/n: Rafe and reader are NOT GOOD PEOPLE! But it was so hot to write. I find Sofia’s “I can fix him” vibe kinda lame. This is kinda long too ngl.. Descriptions of Sofia and Reader are for plot purpose only and to build differences

TW: CHEATING!!! Not on reader, Rafe cheats with reader. SMUT!!! Descriptions of immoral thinking

-

Rafe should feel ashamed. He should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire.

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. “Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. from the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned.

-

Sofia was nice. Sweet actually. She was all soft smiles and modest clothes. Sparkling eyes hiding behind wispy bangs. Voice of reason, the angel on his right shoulder. Mousy beauty, enticing in a plain jane way that is nice to admire and look at. She doesn’t stand out but she had caught his eye and he liked it. Different from snooty Kook girls and prettier than typical Pogue girls. She kept him calm, and pushed him to be better. She could change him; that was until he met her though.

Sofia’s best friend was everything she wasn’t. She was sweet as well, don’t get him wrong. But she had a fire in her eyes, a darkness waiting to be unleashed that he couldn’t help but feel would match perfectly with his. The devil on his left shoulder. She was stunning, the kind of stunning that turns heads and captivates. She was all flirty smiles and batting wispy lashes. Skimpy clothes, excessive jewelry and high heels always accessorizing her perfectly. Makeup always accentuating her enticing features.

Rafe still remembers when they met. He’d thrown a grand party, Kooks on every inch of his property buzzed and high. Some crossed and stumbling. An environment of chaos, fun chaos. He was sitting in his ‘VIP’ section with Barry. Doing lines and rolling a fat blunt to be passed between the two. Waiting for Sofia to arrive, remembering his earlier phone call with her. ‘Can I bring my best friend, she just moved in with me and it’ll be her first time on the island.’ To which Rafe replied mumbled a ‘sure, whatever.” The more the merrier right?

Oh and the more the merrier indeed. Because when Rafe laid his eyes on her for the first time he felt like he was starting the beginning of the rest of his life. Like a missing puzzle piece fit in perfectly that he didn’t even know was missing.

“Y/n this is Rafe,” smiles Sofia, putting a name to the beauty standing before him, “Rafe, this is y/n, my best friend,” boasted Sofia with a bashful smile and proud eyes. A manicured hand reaches out to him, “it’s so nice to meet you. Sofia’s always talking about you.” Pretty lips spread, exposing pearly whites and when he looks into her eyes he can see the same lust swirling around them that is most definitely sitting in his. Rafe extends his hand, immediately engulfing hers as their eyes lock and his lips spread in a small side smile with a “likewise.” Holding onto the moment till a soft voice breaks the tension, “y/n do you want anything to drink?”

They both dropped each other’s hands quickly. The tension building between them snuffing out as they turn to Sofia as she looks at them with an unassuming smile. “Oh…yes! sure! What is there?” replies y/n, turning her attention to her best friend and giving Rafe the opportunity to slyly run his gaze down her figure. Taking in the skimpy clothing accentuating it perfectly and pretty pedicured feet in heels. A stark difference to the dress Sofia was wearing that landed right above her knees, the V on the chest only exposing her collar bones. Feet sat in white sneakers. “I’m not sure…Rafe?” Sofia broke his trance, turning to him as he immediately locked eyes with hers. “What happened?” he replies, having not paid attention to anything they were taking about. Way too entranced by the beauty on display in front of him.

“Y/n asked what do you have to drink” said Sofia with a small smile. And it almost made him feel guilty at having checked out his girlfriend’s best friend right in front of her. Almost. “Uh yeah.. anything really. I’m sure I have it, what’s your poison?” he spoke to y/n, giving her a warm smile as he prepared to make a mental note of what she likes. “Vodka.” she replies back, returning his warm smile with one of her own. Rafe goes to reply when a familiar accent chimes in.

“How about I show you where it’s at doll? Give these two lovebirds a chance to be alone.” drawls Barry. Rafe snaps his head toward him, eyes darkening and lips pursing in an unamused scowl. The drug dealer making eye contact with the beauty in front of them, small smirk on his lips as lust swirls around his eyes. Rafe couldn’t blame him but he sure as hell wanted to pop him right in the face. “M’Barry,” he reaches his hand out to her, Rafe’s eyes following her pretty hand slide into Barry’s calloused grip. “I’m a business associate of Rafe’s” he says slyly, “guess you could say we’re friends too.” He finished with a smile, gold tooth glistening.

“Nice to meet you,” y/n replies offering him a small smile. “Um, yeah sure. That sounds good.” she replied to Barry’s earlier question. Shyly glancing once at Rafe, then at Sofia. Barry getting up and taking the hand in his to guide her along with him. Turning his head back to Rafe with a knowing smirk as Sofia takes her position next to Rafe, nuzzling into his side with a pleased smile. It would normally be welcomed by him, thick arm wrapped around her shoulder. But now he does it reluctantly, tips of his ears burning with heat and chest tightening. Jealousy swirling in his stomach, lips pressed into a thin line as his eyes burn holes into the pair walking away. Watching as y/n follows Barry’s lead, head turning back to look over at the couple. Her eyes landing on Sofia who’s nuzzling his cheek and kissing it with soft pecks. He can see them darken as she moves her eyes to his and catches them already on hers. The pair staring into each other before she turns around and lets Barry lead her away. Rafe’s gaze can’t help but fall to her cute butt popping out enticingly from the mini skirt she was wearing. The clack of her heels furthering with each step.

“I think Barry likes her,” giggles Sofia. The statement making his body burn and the hand not wrapped around her shoulder clench. A small hum coming from his mouth and all he’s thinking is that he’ll be damned if he lets Barry sweep away something he’s already planning on making his.

-

After that eventful night. Rafe makes it a point to be around y/n as much as possible. Whether from suggesting he and Sofia ‘stay in’ at her small place with a ‘let’s invite y/n to watch a movie’ or ‘don’t feel like being around Figure 8, mind if I hang here?’ Each and every time, making up one excuse after the other to reside in the habitat where his prey lies in. Waiting for the right moment to pounce and claim his catch.

If he thought style-wise they were different. It’s only confirmed by the undeniable difference in their shared home. Elements placed by both of them in the space contrasting starkly. Sofia’s bedroom was nice. Clean and always well kept. Neutral, earthy tones and the definition of minimalistic. Clothes organized neatly and folded perfectly in her dresser, and hung up in her small closet. A few pairs of shoes lined up neatly under the hanging clothes. Her room smelled like clean laundry and the ocean breeze. Her bed with a basic black duvet and primped white, cotton sheets always fresh. Smelling of her whenever they’re rolling around, tangled together.

Whereas, y/n’s space was the epitome of girly-girl. Clean but an organized clutter of cute trinkets and decorations. Clothes and lingerie on a rack next to her vanity because the small closet couldn’t fit all her clothes. Heels lined up against the wall, white and black leopard print bedding with satin pink sheets, full of fluffy pillows. Her vanity is orgqnized but full of makeup, and products that she rummages through on her day to day. Jewelry sprawled all over her night stand. All things maximalism. Which he was only able to see after sneaking out of Sofia’s bedroom one night while she slept soundly and stalking over to the other beauty’s bedroom to satiate his need to know more about her. Pressing the door open lightly and watching as she sleeps with pouted lips in her array of pillows and satin sheets. The sweet aroma of Vanilla filling his senses. And lulling him to sleep after he gets back into bed with Sofia, dreaming of the girl down the hall.

Even in their shared bathroom, the pink loofah and sparkly decorations contrasting to Sofia’s white loofah and minimal decorating. And sometimes when Rafe is desperate he pops open her expensive Vanilla-scented shampoo and inhales deeply to consume just a piece of her, so different from the fresh-soap smell of Sofia’s. God and don’t get him started on the loungewear.

Sofia preferred comfort and modesty. She had a cute body that hid under baggy sweats, yoga pants, gym shorts and oversized sweaters or shirts. Maybe even some of his shirts here and there. Rafe liked it don’t get him wrong, it’s cute and she feels comfortable. But when he saw y/n’s loungewear, he didn’t know how he could ever accept anything less. Micro sleep shorts in an array of different pinks, black, grey, whites. Low-rise and always risen up, stuck inbetween her cute butt, giving him a good view of those pretty legs and that gorgeous tummy. Tiny tank tops, shirts that exposed her pretty midriff and so tight on the chest he could always see her nipples poking through. Fluffy pink slippers or cute leg-warmers and fluffy socks on her feet. Thought he prefers when she’s barefoot because then he can see her pretty pedicured toes that he imagines pressing kisses onto.

Rafe wasn’t delusional. Well, he was. But not about this, no way. When he’d first started infiltrating their space, making himself a consistent figure he’d made sure he was extra observant and helpful. In guise of being a good boyfriend to Sofia ‘it’s so sweet that you’re being so nice to her, I know she really appreciates it. The move was hard.’ To which Rafe replied with ‘do it all for you baby.’ A bold-faced lie. He does it because he wants to, he wants to know everything about her. Take care of her. He knows that her and Sofia aren’t rolling in dough the way he is. Especially with her struggling to get a job after he made sure to put in a word not to hire her at the country club with Sofia. Coming up with some excuse that she’s got no work ethic; in reality it’s just him not wanting her to work around other men. Or work in general, she’s far too precious for that. He knows she’s a girl who deserves nice things and gestures. A girl he wants to provide for. And he also knows that the more he provides, he can basically Pavlov her. Make her depend on him and keep a smile on that pretty face he wants to press kisses all over.

So it started with simple things. Foods and snacks she likes; asking Sofia what she prefers to nosh on. To which she happily replied giving him a good list, and he made sure to get Sofia something too. Not to raise suspicion. It made his chest warm when they’d have a movie night, another insistent ‘let’s invite y/n.’ Paying more attention to how she happily snacked on the food he provided, giving him thanks and a shy hug. Offering him some every few minutes while he replied with soft, “m’okay, enjoy it. It’s all for you.” Neither her and Sofia realizing how deep that sentiment actually was.

But then it began escalating… they started hanging out more. Sofia giving Rafe a spare key to let himself into their home since he was there so often, and he took full advantage. Letting himself in when he knew Sofia wasn’t there; insisting on inserting himself into y/n’s life and heart. They spent so much time together; getting to know each other. Rafe becoming a consistent figure in her life; making himself her whole world. Slowly but surely infiltrating and separating her away from Sofia as he reeled her closer to him. Even going as far to find solace in her company when he and Sofia fought; not letting her know he began each and every one to slowly but surely push her away. Making sure Sofia was never there as he forced himself into her best friend’s life.

Sofia had picked up more shifts at the Country Club; making her presence more sparse as she noticed distance from her best friend and her boyfriend. Losing herself in work to not think about the dread building in her chest and the suspicions building in her mind. As for Rafe, it was another normal day of pushing himself into y/n’s life and going to her shared home with Sofia. Which has been almost every day of the week when he wasn’t busy doing business with Barry or making time for Sofia as to not raise suspicion. And today he brought breakfast, setting it out on their small kitchen island. One thing on his mind that today was the day. He was in the middle of setting up when he heard soft footsteps padding towards the kitchen from the small hallway.

“Rafe?” questioned a meek voice; gritty with sleep and sounding oh-so precious. He immediately turns around with a warm smile, running his eyes over her scantily clad figure and down to her pretty toes on display. “Good morning,” he said in a slow drawl, taking in the way her thighs clenched together subtly at that. His warm smile slipping into that familiar smirk. “I brought breakfast, thought we could spend some time together and go to the mainland today to show you around.” He continued, keeping his eyes on her as her gaze moved to the food set out on the island. Shuffling over and rubbing the sleep out of her pretty eyes.

“You got all this .. for me?” she spoke softly, gazing up at his towering figure with soft doe-eyes. Lips frowning in a slight pout that he wanted to kiss away. “Mhmm,” he hummed. He raised a strong hand to grip her chin and run the tip of his thumb slightly over the bottom of her lower lip. Moving his gaze from her eyes to her lips, back to her eyes, “just for you,” he whispered lowly. Watching as she kept staring into his eyes and leaning her body into him slowly. He very much liked that, giving her chin a quick pinch before he pulled away. Turning to grab a glass of orange juice and setting it down in front of the plate he set out for her. Watching as she moved to sit in front of it; eyes dashing between the arranged food. “Eat whatever you want, need that tummy full for today.” He spread his hands on the island, holding his body up as he leaned over and watched as she began adding pieces of her desired choice of food all over the plate. A satisfied hum coming from her as her eyes closed at the taste.

“What do you mean we’re going to the mainland? Why? Without Sofia too?” she questioned after she finished chewing; taking a sip of the orange juice he set out for her while keeping eye contact. “Thought I could show you around, I had nothing to do today and thought it would be nice to take you out so you’re not cooped up in here all day while Sofia’s working.” He said with his usual charm; popping a grape into his mouth and biting into it with a harsh crunch. Watching as she nodded her head in understanding. “After you eat, go get ready and put on something pretty. It’ll be hot today so be sure to dress for it. But make sure it’s something nice, taking you out for a nice lunch.” He continued. Praying she put on one of those cute, short sundresses or mini skirts she’s so known for wearing. He continued to munch on small pieces of fruit while she finished her breakfast. Taking her plate when she finished and giving her a dismissive wave; signaling to her to begin getting ready.

He watched as she happily skipped away, his eyes lowering to her cute butt as if jiggled with her movements. He wanted nothing more than to bite into it; too caught up in his dirty thoughts when he heard a, “can I wear heels?” He immediately popped his eyes back to her face, which is turned around to look at him. Back still facing him. “If they’re comfortable enough, absolutely.” He smiled, watching as she nodded with a smile and continued back to her room as Rafe finished cleaning up and sat onto the small couch. Head leaning back onto it and staring onto the ceiling with a devious grin of all the things he planned to do today. Dozing off slightly as he waited for her to get ready.

“Rafe,” a slight nudge to his shoulder. “Raaaaafe,” drawled out the prettiest voice; a soft hand coming to cup his cheek lightly and caress it as that sweet voice whispered another soft “wake up Rafe, m’ready to go.” She said delicately with excitement in her voice. Rafe’s eyes opening up from dreamland to look at the absolute goddess in front of him. Quickly rubbing the sleep from his eyes as she stepped back in front of him. When his vision came back into focus he couldn’t help but run his gaze over her figure. His heart beating in his chest and his pants feeling tighter by the second as her took in the little number on her gorgeous body. Down to the heels on her feet showing off those pretty toes. Her hair done up a a messy up-do with wisp framing her face perfectly. Makeup dewy and fresh, making her look so ethereal and pretty lips slathered in a gloss he wants to kiss away. Silver hoops sitting in her pretty ears.

“You like it?” she asked, giving him twirl. The expanse of her pretty back showing. The sheen material giving him a view of the pink thong nestled inbetween the cute butt he’s been dreaming of marking with his teeth. Watching as her front view came into view, his eyes immediately drawn to the low V and the way her pretty tits looked so erotic hidden between a thin layer of sheen material. Her nipples poking through and her cleavage sitting so nicely.

He let out a low, soft whistle; his gaze which was leaving no inch of her body undiscovered looks back up to her beautiful face. Her eyes already on him through wispy lashes that made them looks so flirty and alluring. An amused smile on her face as he stated, “you look like you should be on the cover of a magazine. Beautiful. You look beautiful. You are so beautiful.” With full sincerity, his eyes holding onto hers to convey all the emotions and want he’s been holding back. He rose up slightly, hand holding out for hers as she placed hers into his. His large grip immediately engulfing her pretty hand as he began dragging her to the front door. “We’re gonna have a ball, believe that.” He looked back at her with a smirk; her head tilting back to meet his gaze and a small giggle falling from her lips as she let him lead her away.

-

Rafe doesn’t think he’s ever wanted someone so badly in his life, not even Sofia. After they left the girls’ small house, taking his truck to which he boldly put his hand on her thigh while she sat in his passenger seat; feeling it tense. Testing the waters and feeling satisfied as she relaxed into his touch; thighs slightly spreading to which he gave a small squeeze in approval. His hand caressing her smooth skin the whole way to there. He his head to the side to look at her through his peripheral vision to see her looking out the window, biting those pretty lips and closing her eyes when he would dare to raise his hand a bit higher. Bringing it back to its original spot in a way to tease her every-time, having expected her to push him away. Tell him he’s crossing a boundary, but she never did. Not even when her helped her off the truck, his hand pulling her into his side with it running down her smooth back to sit right above her butt. Not even when he stood behind her on the ferry; his body pressed into hers and arms spread out onto the railing to cage her in as she watched the water with a lip bite and excitement in her eyes. Leaning her head back a bit to expose her neck to him, his immediate response to ghost his lips up her neck and take in her Vanilla scent that’s been driving him crazy. Wanting to lick her smooth skin but refraining, just hovering his face over where he wants to mark her up.

They spent the whole day wrapped up in each other. Rafe had planned on taking her shopping, wanting to spoil her then quickly realizing he didn’t have his truck to hold the influx of items he’s sure she would love to have. Settling for taking her to a jewelry shop, buying her an 18k white gold-diamond necklace that had her eyes widening and a smile spreading on her pretty face. Words of “no Rafe I couldn’t it’s too much,” to, “what about Sofia, wouldn’t you want to get this for her?” Which he quickly shut down with a firm, “Sofia isn’t the kind of girl you buy such pretty, expensive things for, beautiful. You know this isn’t her thing.” His words having two meanings. Watching as she bit her lip in consideration at them, knowing how non-flashy her best friend was and how intimate this gesture was. Ultimately accepting the expensive gift he paid a pretty penny for and letting him clip it onto her neck with a “only girls like you deserve such nice things.” Admiring how it glistened beautifully against her flawless skin-tone. Hoping by tonight that it’s all she’s got on besides the heels on her pretty feet.

After that he took her to his promised lunch, watching as she admired herself in any reflection they walked past to see the diamonds glistening against her. Giddy with happiness and wondering how she could re-pay his kindness. Envy building in her stomach that someone as non-materialistic and plain as her best friend ended up with such a pretty boyfriend whose pockets were loaded. They both sat and chatted over expensive lobster and glasses of Dom Périgon; him feeding her pieces of her food and watching as her lips wrapped around the fork. Praying that he would get to feel them wrapped around his solid cock. His restraint for her slowly dwindling the more they got drunk off champagne.

And fuck -was he glad he splurged on good drinking. Watching as she became more loose, more touchy. Pretty eyes hazing over from the bubbly running through her. Those wispy lashes batting at him as she bit her lip; eyeing him with pure lust. It’s when he felt her right foot begin to slide up the inner-side of his right leg did he know; he had her. Leaning back in his chair slightly and widening his legs to give her more access. The two staring into each other eye’s, lust and intense want swirling around as she slid her foot higher. Eventually reaching his thigh and then the prominent bulge in his dark grey slacks. Rafe clenching his fist and huffing from his nostrils when she begin pressing her toes into it sensually. Massaging him with them as she bit her lip seductively and kept eye contact. Rafe let her tease him till he couldn’t handle it anymore. Getting up from his chair abruptly and tossing down a few hundred dollar bills onto the table before grabbing her by her upper arm. Giving her a chance to put her heel back onto her foot before dragging her out of the restaurant and pinning her against the wall of the alley right next to it. Breathing deeply and watching as she stared into his eyes with that doe-eyed expression that makes him want to ruin her. Pressing his body against hers, his hands spread out on both sides of her head and pushing his face till they were mere inches apart. Their breaths mingling as their breathing became harsher, the restraint between both of them breaking as their need for each other began to win.

“You’ve been driving me crazy. From the moment I saw you; I knew I needed you.” Rafe said lowly, his voice thick with desire as he broke the silence. Watching as she pondered his words, then continuing, “I’m gonna take you home, back to Tannyhill.” He whispered lowly, pushing his head closer to her and brushing his lips against hers as he spoke of everything he planned to do. “M’gonna slip this sexy little dress off and leave you in nothing but those sexy heels and that necklace I bought you.” He drawled, feeling her press closer into him. Her hands that were pressed by her side now sliding up his lower back and up to his shoulders as she held onto him; listening to his every word. “Then m’gonna take what I’ve been waiting too all damn day. Ever since I met you actually. I’m marking my claim on you tonight, and you’re gonna let me because I know you want me as bad as I want you. Know you need me baby, because I need you too.” With that he pressed his lips onto hers. The pair making out harshly with moans and whines falling from her pretty lips into his mouth; harsh groans and breathes falling from his into hers. Their teeth clacking and tongues fighting for dominance as they consumed each other. Any thought of how this might hurt Sofia quickly slipping from their minds. It felt right, right in a way that he didn’t feel with Sofia. Right in a way that she knew any friendship with Sofia wasn’t worth the feelings he gave her.

The pair made out harshly, hands running all over each other as they took each other in. Weeks of tension build up, exploding passionately between them. The sun casting an orange haze over the environment as it slowly went down. Her makeup now ruined and pouty lips swollen. Rafe’s right hand snaking into her pretty up-do and gripping her hair, tugging harshly to expose her neck. Pressing kisses and marking her as she spoke a soft inquiring, “What about Sofia?” Making Rafe’s incessant kissing come to a halt, his head lifting away from her neck as he moved his left hand to cup her cheek; not bothering to remove the hand tangled in her messed up hair. His eyes caught her own, watching as guilt built up in them. Ready to reassure and squash away those feelings because no way was he gonna let Sofia get in between them now. Not anymore than she already has.

“Don’t worry about her,” he said slowly. Watching as she opened her lips to retaliate and immediately shushing her. “Hey -no. Listen..” he continued, rubbing his thumb soothingly on her cheek. “What she means to me is nothing compared to the feelings I’ve developed for you. I need you y/n; it’s driving me insane. I know deep inside me that this feeling I have for you isn’t anything simple.” He spoke seriously, spilling his thoughts to her. Her eyes tearing with emotion as he continued, “and I won’t try to figure it out or stop it. Some things are meant to happen; we’re one of those things. You and me. What we can have together is way too good to give it up for a girl I know I don’t want a future with, but you? We can build a life together. I want to build a life with you. You deserve to be taken care of, provided for. Treated and loved like the goddamn goddess you are. And I wanna give all of that to you baby, wanna give you everything. All of me; I wanna be yours. It’s been weeks of holding myself back to finally make this moment happen and I’m not gonna let anyone ruin it. Especially not her.” he spoke. Soft tears running down her smooth cheeks that he kissed away; cradling her to him. “It’s me and you baby; no one else. Not even Sofia.” He finished, watching the hesitation and guilt wash away in her eyes as she submitted herself to him. Removing her arms from being wrapped up his back to wrap them around his neck. Pushing her lips onto his and kissing him passionately as Rafe immediately welcomed it. Wrapping his arms around her and pressing her body tightly against his.

“Take me home Rafe,” she whispered when she pulled back. “Take me home and make me yours, wanna be all yours too.” She said against his lips, causing him to groan deeply and recapture her lips with his passionately before pulling her away. Scooping her in his arms and dragging her to the ferry bridal style as she giggled and kicked her legs in excitement. The two knowing this was the beginning of a passionate, twisted love story. Sofia be damned.

-

When they made it back to Tannyhill, it’s like a veil lifted over them. Encasing them in their own little world of passion and burning desire. Giggling into each other’s mouths as her heels clacked against the floors of Tannyhill, Rafe consuming her. He took the sheen material sitting over her left shoulder and slipped it off; watching as it fell off her shoulder erotically. The smooth skin of her shoulder, arm and now her left breast being exposed to his eyes without a layer in between. He immediately swiped the right sleeve, the flowy material sliding off with ease. The entire dress dropping as she was left standing in her matching pink thong that came with the dress. Plump tits and gorgeous body on full display for his eyes only. The faux-diamonds on her heels glistening and the real diamonds on her neck shining even brighter. Her flawless skin-tone glowing from the lotion she slathered all over it while getting ready and sparkling from the body glitter she applied to add to her appeal.

Rafe’s gaze ran over the entirety of her body. His eyes full of burning want and need for her. Wanting to ravage and defile her; looking at her with the same hunger a predator looks at its prey. He was gonna make sure she never wanted anyone other than him. He was gonna make sure she belonged to him in her entirety from body to heart and soul. He was gonna make her the queen of his mansion and Kildare. Ruling alongside him in a way Sofia never could. A placeholder and stepping stone for him to find the one he truly wanted. He almost felt bad about Sofia’s role in this situation; feeling like he only met her to be able to meet the love of his life. But his desire for the beauty standing in from of him squashed any feelings that weren’t the ones he had for her.

Rafe immediately grabbed her, throwing her over his shoulder as her shocked gasp turned into realizing giggles. Stomping his way upstairs and smacking her butt; turning his head to bite into it making her squeal as he smirked in satisfaction. Finally reaching his room -their room. Shoving the door open and walking to his bed, tossing her on it roughly as she bounced with delirious girly giggles. Immediately spreading her legs and bringing her pretty manicured hands to massage her beautiful tits. Her eyes full of want and need as she watched him hastily pull his clothing off his body. His belt buckle hitting the floor with a thunk as he pulled every last piece of clothing off.

Once Rafe was fully bare, his hard cock up-right and bobbing with his movements as he moved onto the bed on his knees. Slotting himself between her open legs, his big hands on both sides of her head and pressing his body to hers till they were skin to skin. Her tits pressed tightly to his chest; feeling as she began to whine her hips under him after feeling his hard cock rest itself on her covered pussy. Her hands immediately ran up the huge expanse of his back; feeling his smooth skin under her them as he kissed her roughly. Dominating her mouth immediately, strings of spit exchanging between their messy movements. Rafe beginning to grind his hips to match the rhythm of hers. His cock rubbing on her thong-covered pussy as they made out.

“Needed this so bad. Needed you,” he pressed another fervid kiss to her swollen lips covered in their shared spit. Rafe leaned his weight onto his left hand next to her head, pushing his upper body up as his knees bent to stabilize himself. Her thighs draped over his as he spread them wide with his position. Right hand reaching in between them and moving her soaked through thong to the side. Exposing her perfect cunt to him as he groaned deep in his chest at the sight. “So fucking wet for me huh, princess?” He inquired, clearly already knowing the answer. Rubbing his fingers through the silky folds of perfect pussy. Her legs immediately spreading wider as she whispered, “have been since the moment I met you.” Admitting that she’s needed him just as badly he needed her. Her words sexual but the emotion in her eyes sentimental.

Rafe smiled warmly at her, his eyes portraying the same emotion as he leaned down to get her a quick peck. Using his right hand to bring his leaking tip to her entrance dripping with her arousal. Sliding his tip against her hole before he slid it up to her clit, circling the swollen bud a couple times before guiding his tip back to her entrance. He popped it in, an airy gasp falling from her lips as a deep moan fell from his. He pushed slowly, breaking her cunt in around his thick cock, her legs beginning to tremble. Rafe pushed in till he was he was kissing her cervix, pressing soothing kisses all over her face as she whimpered and whine at the stretch. His big body pinning hers to the bed; chest pressed together while his thighs spread hers open. He brought his right hand back next to her head, beginning to grind slowly to get her use to the feeling of him breaking her open. Ruining her for everyone else but him.

“Mhmmm… s’fucking tight baby fuuuuck,” he emphasized the last word with a drawn out groan. Pushing his head into her neck that was exposed to him as she turned her head to the side to whimper about his deep grinding. Pressing kisses all over it and licking up her neck before sinking his teeth in harshly. Grinning into her skin when she cried out, hips beginning to match the rhythm of his as he stretched her to the brim. Rafe marking her neck with love bites as a declaration of his ownership over her. He brought his lips to her left ear, licking her lobe before giving it a light bite and then whispering, “can’t fucking wait anymore, m’taking what I fucking want, alright?” Beginning to snap his hips into her at a brutalizing pace. Her whimpers quickly turning into loud whines and cries, tears building up her in her pretty eyes and ruining her makeup.

“Yeah…that’s it,” Rafe groaned deeply before continuing, “cry for me baby, get use to the rest of your life. M’gonna fuck this sloppy little hole till my dick is imprinted into you.” He finished, grabbing her arms that were now flailing around to grasp onto something from his harsh pounding. Holding her wrist in his large left hand, using it as leverage to pound into her harder. A wicked smile on his face as he took what he wanted. “Never gonna leave you alone, keeping you next to me for the rest of my damn life. Fuck Sofia, this is the shit I’ve been waiting for right here -ah fuck!” He spoke harshly, voice gritty with desire and affected by his efforts at destroying her for any other man besides him. He meant it when he said he was going to fuck his print into her. “It’s me and you baby, remember that.” He reminded her, “just me n’you.”

-

They’d been going at it for hours; taking each other apart in the most primal way. Rafe fucked her stupid till she passed out. Her heels long gone and thong ripped as he bent her into every position impossible; stretching her open and abusing her sopping hole with his fingers, tongue and cock. Whispering phrases of “that’s my good little cumslut. Doesn’t even care that she’s fucking over her best friend. As long as she gets daddy’s dick breaking her open, huh?” He spoke menacingly, his thick bicep wrapped around her neck as he pounded into her from behind. Face buried in her hair as she dug her manicured nails into his forearm. Her left arm bent back and held against her lower back with rafe’s left hand. Choked gasp of “yes daddy” and “just for you” falling from her swollen pout. Leaving Rafe satisfied as he replied a hushed “that’s right baby, ain’t gotta worry bout a damn thing aside from taking this dick.” Or “Got the sheets fucking soaked, maybe I should fuck Sofia one last time and press her face into the mattress so she can taste what real top-tier pussy tastes like.” His back against the pillows, her back pressed to his firm chest. Large hands hooked under her thighs and spreading her out while he bucked up with non-stop harsh strokes into her already filled and leaking pussy. Their mixed arousal dripping all over his balls as she had her arms laid next to his head; letting him take whatever he wanted. Crying out “no! mine!” when he dared even teased her with the thought of fucking Sofia again after this. Making Rafe chuckle as he spoke out a “that’s right baby, m’all yours. Just yours.”

After so many hours of fucking her stupid, she passed out immediately after the last round. Rafe holding her shaking body to his, her face pressed into his neck. His right arm under her head as his left caressed her hair; keeping her safe in dreamland while they lay on their sides. Kissing her hair every so often the hour she was passed out. He was about ready to get up and go to the restroom; attempting to slowly remove her right arm wrapped around his waist when he heard her whine. Her eyes blinking open, wispy lashes clumped together from the tears of passion he caused. “Don’t leave me,” she pouted, regaining strength to pull him back into her. The action causing a warm feeling to spread through his body like wildfire. He adored that she wanted him just as bad.

“Gotta clean you up m’love.” He whispered against her lips after pressing a soft kiss to them to soothe her. Watching her look at him with sleepy eyes; lust beginning to swirl in them again. “Nuh-uh,” she replied, pressing her right hand to his chest to press him into the mattress flat on his back. Straddling his body immediately, her hands on both sides of his head as she bent down to give him a kiss. Her leaking pussy settled over his cock, pressing down against it. Rafe immediately relaxing into the mattress and shuffling slightly to get into a more comfortable position in middle of the bed. When they pulled back he brought his right hand to cup her left cheek, running his thumb over it soothingly as they held the silence, staring into each other’s eyes. “What do you want, hm?” He questioned, though he already knew the answer. “If you want something, take it. I know I did.” Smiling as he watched her lift herself up on her knees slightly, hand reaching between them. She gripped his already hard cock in her soft hand, teasing his tip against her clit making them both lightly moan. She didn’t do it for too long, already way too built up after weeks of tension between them. Needing him again even after the hours of sex he put her through already. She brought him to her soaked entrance, popping his tip in as she watched his face. His brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he watched her cute cunt swallow him.

Rafe immediately put his hands on her hips and positions his legs. Ready to immediately begin giving it to her and giving her a couple harsh thrust before her dainty hands smacked onto his chest and pushed him back into the sheets, shaking her head side to side to say no. Rafe’s brows furrowed with confusion his lips opening to say something before she interrupted his questioning with, “wanna take care of you daddy. Wanna be good for you.” Rafe’s body immediately relaxing as a satisfied smirk spread across his face. “Yeah? Well alright,” he smacked her left ass cheek with his right hand; then removing both his hands from her hips and laying them crossed behind his head. Ready to let her do all the work. “Get to it princess; daddy’s got a fat load waiting for you.”

Her hips began grinding back and forth, rubbing her overstimulated clit across the trimmed hairs at the base of his cock. Hands pressed into his chest and whines falling from her lips as she worked herself into it. Rafe biting his lip while darting his eyes between her body grinding against him and to her pretty face contorting in pleasure. When she finally felt ready she removed her hands from his chest; reaching her hands behind her to stabilize herself on his strong thighs. Wet plops of their arousal and skin smacking as she began bouncing herself up and down. Working herself on his dick as she cried out his name; Rafe entranced by the goddess on top of him. He didn’t know where to look, from his dick breaking in her pussy to her beautiful body moving sensually to that gorgeous face with messy makeup and swollen lips. He clenched his eyes from the overwhelming pleasure and feelings running through him; head turning to the left as she leaned down to start kissing and sucking marks into him the way he did her. When he opens his hazy eyes just a bit that’s when he sees it …

A picture of him and Sofia on his nightstand. Her face smiling brightly as she looked so happy. Half his face hidden in her hair as he gave a soft smile to the camera. A moment in time at the beginning of their relationship when Rafe felt like he could actually see himself building something long term; feeling that Sofia could fix him. A feeling that was now long gone. Rafe should feel ashamed; he should feel sick to his stomach. Guilt and despair should be bubbling in his gut at what he’s doing. But it doesn’t, not even a little bit. Not even at all. This is what was meant to happen, and it feels so fucking good. He turns back to the one he truly wants and doesn’t regret his actions in the slightest. This was his woman.

He’s got her on top, bouncing wildly as she chases her orgasm, beautiful body looking so erotic as it bends and curves enticingly with each of her movements. plump tits bouncing as whines, moans and airy squeak leave her pouty lips that are even more swollen with the harsh makeout session they had earlier. His back is against his bed as sheets weave around them messily. His head pressing into his pillow as he watched her with pure desire. Sex was never this good with Sofia, she wasn’t wild. Wasn’t adventurous, as plain in bed as she was outside. She never made his body burn ablaze or his nerves go haywire. She never consumed his heart, body and soul the way the girl on top of him does. Even with Sofia he felt something incomplete inside him. He didn’t know what he was missing to be found it. Till he found her …

“Oh fuck! Rafe.. you feel s’good…” she slurs with a drawn out moan from the back of her throat. Switching to grinding her swollen clit against the trimmed-bush on his lower pelvis again. The overwhelming feeling of his tip hitting her cervix becoming too much. A sticky, translucent mess of their mixed arousal inbetween her legs and leaving his cock drowning. He’d hurt Sofia again and again if it meant having this sight in front of him and these feelings running through him all the time.

“Mhmm… that’s it baby, ridin’ me so good,” groans Rafe from the back of his throat. Deep and low making her clench around him tightly and causing him to hiss from the tight hole suffocating his cock. “Fuck, gonna make me cum s’fucking hard if you keep doing that.” He warns. Bringing his hands that were behind his head, sliding them up to wrap around her back to push her down against him. Pretty tits pressed against his firm chest, skin sticking together from the sweat. He tangles his hand in her messy hair and pushes her pout against his thinner one. Immediately barging his tongue into her mouth and tasting remnants of himself from the messy blow-job she gifted him earlier. “So much better than her, you know that princess?”

Rafe should feel guilty about fucking his girlfriend’s best friend. But he doesn’t, because her knew. From the moment they met he was gonna take her and make her his, girlfriend be damned. Relationship be damned. Sofia would be okay, eventually. But he wouldn’t if couldn’t have his girl, he’d rather crush Sofia’s soul then let anything get inbetween them. Any softness he felt for her fading away quickly at the thought of her becoming an obstacle between them.

“Dadddyyy,” she whined into his mouth when his hips began bucking up. He took over control, his need to reassert dominance overtaking him. He was gonna make sure she would never leave him. She was stuck here with him and he was going to ensure it in anyway possible. Little ‘uh uh uh uh’s’ falling from her as he pounded up into her; his legs tense with stabilizing his movements. His right hand came to the back of her head to keep her lips pressed to his. Hips jackhammering into her as she took everything he gave her. Her arms beginning to flail around again to stabilize herself until he grabbed them in his left hand and pinned them to her back with her wrist in his large hand. He pulled his lips back, a string of spit connecting his to hers as she whined and tried to reconnect them. Rafe shook his head and nudged her nose with his as he spoke against her mouth. “Take it m’love, daddy needs you to take it. Need you to know you’re never gonna leave me. We’re in this together. You n’me.” Watching as her eyes looked into his with full sincerity as she nodded and choked out “you n’me. Don’t wanna leave you daddy. Never.” With that Rafe pressed his hips up on more time, groaning out her name repeatedly. His cock all the way inside her and tip kissing her cervix as ropes of cum dribbled out and filled her up for the what feels like the millionth time that night. His orgasm triggering her own as her legs shook in their straddling position; crying out into his mouth as she squirted around him again.

Rafe fell back into the mattress, her collapsing on top of him as they both were breathing harshly to catch their breathes. Rafe’s right hand came up to rub her back soothingly as she came down from the high he gave her; soft little cries leaving her that turned into almost inaudible whimpers. The two so wrapped in each other and the aftermath of their love-making that they didn’t even hear the harsh steps stomping up the stairs to Rafe’s bedroom.

When they’d gone out on their date, Rafe put his phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and ensured she did too. Not wanting any interruptions for their day together. And ever since then it hasn’t come off, the pair never realizing that Sofia was blowing up their phones with incessant text and calls. Questions of where they were, if they were together. Until she couldn’t handle it anymore and drove straight to Rafe’s in the middle of the night; praying the gut feeling she’s had for weeks wasn’t going to be confirmed tonight. Oh how she wishes she was wrong. She’d known for weeks, a gut feeling stabbing in her for so long. She’d been suspicious when Rafe had become so kind, tender to her best friend. Chalking it up to him wanting to make Sofia happy by being so welcoming and be a good boyfriend. When he started coming over everyday she was a little surprised, he usually called her over to Tannyhill. She knew he wasn’t a fan of the cut. When he began insisting on staying in for dates, always asking for y/n to intrude on them. It bothered her but she didn’t say anything, too worried about Rafe’s softness sizzling out and making her best friend feel bad. She was even hesitant to give him a key but did it anyway because she convinced herself she was being paranoid. ‘He’s finally man’ing up,’ she’d told herself. Only not knowing it wasn’t for her but her best friend.

She knew when Rafe became cold, distant. Starting fights over anything and everything; never wanting to talk it out and just leaving her wallowing in her own sadness. She knew when her best friend started acting the same, cold. Her distance deepening by the day. And when she came home one day to find them laughing together and eyes sparkling at each other, not even noticing she walked in. The two chatting away on the couch. It pushed her to pick up more work, needing to numb the nagging feeling and ignore the suspicions growing in her mind. But she knew, a woman always knows. And she most definitely knew when she walked straight into Rafe’s house. The scrape of pink fabric laying at the bottom of the staircase, one she knew belonged to her best friend. Sofia knew yet she needed to see it, needed to finally know that she wasn’t feeling crazy. But nothing could have prepared her for shattering of her heart as she slammed Rafe’s bedroom door open. Two people she loved so much, wrapped around each other as they pressed soft kisses to each other’s lips. In their own world till she screamed out an “I knew it!” and only then did their veil lift.

Y/n and Rafe turned to look at Sofia standing at the entrance of the bedroom, tears running down her cheeks. Rafe was quick to act, turning his body along with y/n’s to shield her. His back turning to Sofia as y/n fell to the other side; her right leg wrapped around his waist as she looked at her best friend over Rafe’s shoulder. A scowl now etched on his face as he looked back at Sofia through a side eye, “yo! what the fuck is your problem?!” He fumed, as if Sofia was a stranger intruding on their intimate moment. As if she was never his girlfriend, as if she was never anything to him. Sofia’s teary eyes darted between Rafe’s scowling face, to her best friend. Oh her best friend, someone she’d know for so many years. Someone who was practically a sister to her, someone she let into her home and around her boyfriend. She trusted her. “How could you?” she spoke to y/n, the pain in her chest almost debilitating. “How-how could you?! I trusted you! I let you into my home! I let you around my boyfriend and this is how you repay me! BY FUCKING MY BOYFRIEND!” She screamed, overwhelming feelings of anger and despair radiating off of her. “You’re a fucking slut! A whore!,” she stepped forward more into the room ignoring the ‘hey!’ from Rafe as she continued, “I should have known. You always begged for attention, just look at the way you dress. You’re a stupid attention seeking whore!” She raged at her best friend whose eyes full of guilt now turned into equal rage.

Rafe went to open his mouth and defend his woman when y/n spoke up first, “save me the fucking pity party Sofia! You’re just a sad case of another girl getting way to ahead of herself because a cute guy finally gave her attention,” she retaliated. Sitting up now, not caring about her state of undress or the cum leaking down her thighs as she pushed herself up to her knees on the bed. Finger pointing at Sofia as Rafe’s eyes darted between the two girls. “You’ve always made me feel bad! Like i’m someone who needs to be fixed and is full of faults. Always telling me where I went wrong or what I’m not doing good enough. You act so high and fucking mighty all the time like you aren’t trying to compensate for your own inadequacies!” She yelled, rage flowing through her and continuing when Sofia went to open her mouth, “I’m sick of the patronization hidden behind care. I’m sick of you making me feel bad for who I am,” y/n stepped over Rafe’s legs to stand on the floor and face her ex-best friend. Stalking toward her, “you’re always trying to fix people to make up for your lack of personality. Like everyone is in the wrong for being themselves just bc you’re too pathetic to know who you are. I’m done letting you do it to me. And I won’t let you do it to him,” she screamed pointing at Rafe who was on his back and holding himself up on his forearms as he watched the two ex-friends at each other’s throat. Turned on and feeling satisfied that the kitty claws he’s been working so hard to expose are finally out. A sick smirk on his face as he stared at Sofia. “For months, you complained about him to me before I came here. How he was ‘unhinged’ and how you could help him. Make him better. And it wasn’t until I met him that I realized how wrong you were! Maybe he’s not perfect, maybe he’s rough and mean and fucked up! But that’s what makes him, him! And i love it! For the first time in my life I don’t feel like I need to put on an act, like I need to be perfect. He loves me for who I am not what he feels he can make into and I feel the same about him. So maybe we’re fucked up! But at least we’re not a miserable cunt who’s hellbent on fixing people because she can’t fix herself.” Finished y/n, her arms crossed against her bare tits as she stared Sofia down whose tears were running down her cheeks, face red with emotion and chest heaving. To add to insult Rafe let out a low whistle at y/n’s words and a small chuckle with an “ouch.” Watching as Sofia’s eyes left her staring contest with her best friend to him, not making any effort to move from her spot.

“You can leave Sofia, we don’t want you here. Ever.” taunted y/n, turning on her heels to walk back to bed and climbing in it while Rafe shuffled over to the other-side. Right arm widening to encase her with it as his left forearm held him up. Immediately wrapping his arm around y/n as she got near, the two smashing their lips together with a passionate kiss to add salt to the wound. Not letting up until they heard footsteps stomping out of the room and down the hallway. Rafe pulling back with that sick smirk on his face as he yelled out for Sofia to hear “don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” Both of them turned to the doorway and listening as they heard her sobs deepening and steps become quicker. The glass door slamming shut and letting them know she’d left.

They turned to face each other with wicked smiles as they smashed their lips together, Rafe using the arm wrapped around her to push her body onto the mattress and press himself flush to her. “That was so fucking sexy, you mean it? You love me? Flaws and all?” he smiled into her lips, chest feeling warm with love as she giggled and nodded. Kissing him again before saying, “as long as you love mine.” Eyes staring into his for confirmation that he quickly gave her, “baby Imma love all of you for as long as you let me. I don’t want some faux-perfect bitch, I want my girl who’s freak matches mine.” Capturing her lips again and ready to go for another round. Grinding against her till she pulled back with worry in her eyes, “wait! what about my stuff she’s gonna wreck it!” y/n whined and kicked her leg into the mattress.

“Don’t worry about it princess, I’ll replace it all and more.” He chucked and went to recapture her lips when she pushed against chest that slipped inbetween them, crying out a, “but Rafey some of that stuff is vintage! Irreplaceable!” Whining and pouting her lips as Rafe rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed both her hands in his large one, pinning them to the bed as he dominated her once more.

“Shuddup and let me love you. Such a brat. You’re lucky I love you so damn much.”

A/N: Damn I almost feel bad for Sofia ngl. The way i described Sofia was just for plot purposes! I just feel like Rafe needs a bougie baddie idk! and I really think Sofia is boring!

Title: “I can’t handle the thought of losing you.” (Aemond Targaryen x House of the Dragon Imagine)

Summary: Aemond and his beloved twin sister haven’t seen each other for a month and their first encounter after that time apart is on the battlefield at Rook’s Rest. Aemond is furious that his sister has disregarded his warnings to stay away from the war. Despite his anger, he cannot stay mad at her for long and soon enough, they find themselves catching up for the missed time together.

Warnings: Smut | 18+ | Explicit sexual content | Incest | Targcest | Fluff | Angst

First smutty Aemond Targaryen x Twin Sister imagine: “You’re mine and mine only”

Second smutty Aemond Targaryen x Twin Sister imagine: “You’re everything you me.”

Third smutty Aemond Targaryen x Twin Sister imagine: “I want you to be my Queen.”

Fourth smutty Aemond Targaryen x Twin Sister imagine: “I will make them pay with their life for raising their hand over my Queen.

Author’s note: Thank you all for the great support until now. The journey of Aemond and his twin sister is very fun to write and I am glad to see you loving it, as much as I do. ❤️

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I was removing my fight gear, when the door burst open with a loud crash.

Aemond. My twin-brother.

The single eye he had was filled with fury.

“Have you lost your mind?” Aemond yelled, interrupting me.

“Good to see you too!” I sarcastically remarked, while removing my sword belt.

“What in the Seven Hells were you doing on the battlefield!?” He kept.

“Ugh, be quiet. I have a terrible headache.” I winced, massaging my forehead.

“You’re having a headache?” He laughed. “I’m having a headache with you!”

I shot him a bored glare.

“If you came here to just yell at me, then you can leave! I already have enough to deal with!”

I could swear that I saw my brother’s eye twitch by looking at how stiff I was moving.

He walked to the table in the center of my chambers with a clenching jaw and placed his palms on it. I knew him very well and I could see that he was barely holding himself to not explode.

“Do you understand that you have put yourself in an obviously life threatening situation?” He continued with an irritation in his tone and his voice rising. “What if I wasn’t there?”

I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

“Aemond, I am not made out of sugar.”

My twin grunted.

“I can’t believe how reckless you are!”

I slowly started losing my composure.

“And what would you have me to do? Stay here and embroider? I only got shot by an arrow, which didn’t even hurt me and so what?! Big deal! I am not dead!”

“But you could have been killed!” He raised his voice and slammed his fist on the table, making me jump.

It was very rare to witness Aemond’s anger, especially when I was the main reason for it. He was furious. Still, I couldn’t step back.

“I am a Targaryen, Aemond, and we are at war! I can’t just sit here and watch while the others fight. I am not someone to be coddled!”

“This is isn’t about coddling, angel!” He replied with a smile, which unfortunately wasn’t out of a good reason. “This is about YOU, putting yourself in an unnecessary danger! That old bitch and her dragon could have taken you down!”

“But she didn’t!” I said simply, raised my hands.

Aemond’s face darkened with frustration. For a matter of seconds he diminished the distance between us and his imposing figure towered over me. Lost in his anger, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer to him.

“Do you understand…” he began with a trembling voice. “That every time you expose yourself to a risk… despite my warnings… and seeing you being shot, almost taken down… it’s like you are stabbing my heart with a dagger.”

“Aemond, I didn’t think…”

“That’s the fucking problem!” He hissed and tightened his grip on my hand. “You didn’t think! You didn’t think about the consequences and that you have endangered yourself! Do you have any idea what it felt like seeing you out there, injured and vulnerable? Do you think that I can just erase it from my mind?! Or when the scumbags came here to take Jaehaerys and hurt you too? It is not just a random whim of mine to tell you to stay away from Rook’s Rest and that war.”

My brother’s eye was locked with mine, as if trying to force me to understand the depth of his rage.

A lump in my throat started forming.

“I didn’t realize…”

“Realize!?” Aemond interrupted me. His eye was piercing me and cutting me in half. He was so close to me, that I could feel his breath in my face. “Do you realize that every time you decide to do things on your own, it’s not just about you, but it’s about me. About us.”

“Aemond…”

“I feel helpless and terrified, knowing that I can’t always protect you from everythi-“

Without saying anything, I kissed him, shoving my fingers in his hair.

Aemond’s grip started slowly releasing my wrist and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. I was feeling them so tight around me, as if he was afraid to loose me.

My brother deepened the kiss and our tongues were dancing the dance of love.

Desperate and demanding.

All the built-up emotions and unspoken fears were poured out in that kiss.

As we were kissing, our negative feelings transformed into something else. The anger, the fear and the frustration turned into a burning desire that has been building up for over a month. I couldn’t remember if there was another time, when we haven’t been intimate for that long.

First, I was on a political mission for two weeks in the Riverlands… and when I returned, Jaehaerys’ assassination happened. I was so shattered and wasn’t in the mood for anything intimate. Then, Aegon and his council started planning their strategies and Aemond had to fly with Vhagar for another political mission. Before he flew away, he made sure to warn me to not ever think of setting my foot in Rook’s Rest. It could get pretty ugly, he said. Despite the fact that he looked dead serious, I didn’t listen to him.

I couldn’t just stay in King’s Landing, knowing that other people are fighting our battle.

The urge to take action was eating me out and the memory of Jaehaerys’ murder fueled my determination.

What could possibly go wrong, I thought, and rode my dragon, Dagahra, to Rook’s Rest.

When I arrived at Rook’s Rest, the battle was already raging. The smell of smoke and blood was filling the air. Soldiers fought fiercely on the ground. Rhaenys Targaryen on her dragon, Meleys, the Red Queen were flying around and destroying our invasion. I knew this would be no easy fight.

I engaged Rhaenys in chasing me. Dagahra was faster than Meleys and we took their attention for a while.

The Dance of the Dragons has begun. Our dragons twisted and turned. We maneuvered through the sky, each trying to outwit the other.

The smell of fire and blood filled my nostrils.

As I was very near to the ground, I felt an arrow, piercing my armour. Luckily, it barely touched my skin and I only got a slight scratch, yet it distracted me and I struggled to maintain the control over Dagahra.

Seconds after the arrow shot me, I heard a familiar powerful roar.

Vhagar.

Aemond.

My brother came out of nowhere, igniting the archers, who shot me.

He led Vhagar in front of me and covered me.

“Get away from here!” Aemond yelled at me from afar.

“No!” I protested.

Just as I have gained back my focus and preparing for another attack, Dagahra let out a painful roar. She was hurt with one of those giant scorpion arrows.

“Dagahra!” I shouted.

My heart was pounding in my chest and I was thinking that it would pop out.

Before I could react, Aemond's sharp and unyielding voice cut through the chaos.

“Did you hear what I said?! Get away from here!”

I turned to see Aemond and Vhagar swooping down. Vhagar’s immense form shielded us from further assaults.

“Go!” Aemond roared again.

I hesitated, glancing at Dagahra's wound.

I decided to not oppose anymore. I couldn’t risk her life. I turned my dragon and headed to our home. On my way back I saw Aegon on the back of his mount, Sunfyre. They were flying to Rook’s Rest, probably to join the battle I had just left behind. Sunfyre's golden scales glinted in the sunlight and Aegon’s expression was determined. He didn’t seem to notice me as I passed by or perhaps he chose to ignore me.

On the way to King’s Landing, I couldn’t stop thinking about how poorly calculated my action was. I had my dragon hurt and barely helped.

When I finally reached the Red Keep, I landed Dagahra as gently as I could, ensuring she was immediately attended to by the dragonkeepers.

I never left her side until her wound was cleaned up and treated properly. She was going to be okay, but she needed some time to rest and recover. I promised her thousands of sheeps.

As I was assured that she was fine, I finally could go and have some rest.

And then we reached the point, where Aemond got home and stormed furiously in my chamber.

It was very sad, because we hadn’t seen each other for two weeks. Considering the short time, we had spent together before they took Jaehaerys’ head, it felt more like that we hadn’t seen each other for a good month. And this was our first encounter after that month. On the battlefield and then in my room with all the gathered tension and frustration from the passed time, in which we were consumed with the tragic events, caused by that war. And which we have spent away from each other. Jumping straight to the argument.

But now, in this moment, all that tension and stress exploded into the desperate need for one another.

I didn’t even bother where we were. I slightly dragged him down, making me follow me as we sank to the floor on the carpet without breaking the kiss.

My twin settled himself between my legs and I was feeling his hard erection pressing against my genitals.

Our hands moved eagerly in a hurried manner to take off the clothes, that we were wearing.

“I need you.” He whispered desperately.

“I’m here.” I replied inbetween our kiss.

Aemond rose on his knees to remove his tunic and the beautiful sight of his well-sculpted abdomen and biceps made my heart skip a beat.

I sat up, so that I can place kisses on his bare chest and abs.

He helped me remove my shirt and attacked my neck, which sent a shiver down my spine.

My brother gently pushed me and made me lay on my back.

His hands roamed my figure with the same burning desire and lust as the very first time he did it.

I felt his lips trace a path from my neck to my collarbone. Then they continued its way to my stomach and stopped inches away from my private parts.

Next thing I could feel was Aemond’s mouth eating me out. His tongue was moving masterly, teasing me to full extent.

I was soaking wet down there and when he entered in me, it slipped so smooth and nicely, that I arched my back from finally feeling the fullness after the one month break.

We were making love on the floor. Aemond on top of me, supporting himself on his hands, which allowed him to watch me moaning and thrust in me with a precise force and pace.

I arched my back, losing myself in the overwhelming sensation of being so completely connected to my twin-brother.

My breasts were bouncing up and down, following the rhythm of our intense movements.

I wrapped my legs around his waist and allowed him to enter deeper. As a response to that Aemond let out a low moan.

Then, he propped himself on his elbows, diminishing the small gap between our bodies and hungrily kissed my lips.

His thrusts became even harder and I had to bite my lower lip so that no one pops up at our door. My nails dug in the skin of his back and goosebumps erupted.

Aemond kept pacing up, making it impossible for me to be quiet.

My twin’s hands and lips began cherishing my body in every possible way. His lips were kissing me and his hands were caressing and squeezing my skin.

“Aemond…” his name escaped my lips inbetween the moans.

He didn’t say anything. Instead started slamming himself in me with full force.

“Yes, yes, yes…” I was close.

Raw.

Hard.

It was just the two of us and nothing else mattered. There was no battlefield, no war, no noble statuses. Just the two of us. And our endless love.

“Please, please…” I whined in despair.

Aemond was pushing himself harder and harder.

“Keep going.” I cried.

Soon enough my walls were clenching around my brother’s member.

“Oh…” I screamed out of pleasure.

He growled - a sign for his release.

I was enjoying his last strokes in me and pulled him for a deep and passionate kiss.

Our bodies remained entangled for a while. In that time we were still sharing soft kisses and gentle caressing, continuing our wordless savouring of our relationship.

I was left with the feeling that all the tension and weight of the past month have faded away and was replaced by a sense of unity and peace.

“I’m sorry.” I apologised sincerely. “I only wanted to help. And didn’t think that it would worry you that much.”

My twin kissed my forehead.

“I know. And I am sorry too. But I can’t bear the thought of losing you. I just can’t.”

As a response to his apology and my accepting of it, my hand found his and squeezed it.

For a moment we were glaring at each other and cherishing the moments, we have finally had for ourselves after that long month.

“I hate it when we fight.” He said, playing with a lock of my silver hair.

“Yeah, me too.” I replied, placing my head on his chest. “I think that we were just missing each other. “

He sighed, his fingers gently stroking my hair.

“Maybe you’re right. And there is no lie that I was desiring you more than ever.”

I smiled.

“I missed you too.” I kissed him.

After some quiet moments, Aemond’s chuckle broke the silence.

“What?” I looked at him.

“Nothing.” He laughed softly. “You love getting yourself into trouble, when I am not around.”

I joined him laughing.

“Well, someone has to keep things interesting around here.” I nudged him with my elbow.

“One day, you will drive me mad, my love.”

“That’s the plan.” I winked.

“You’re impossible.” He said and pulled me for another kiss. “But I don’t mind you dancing on my nerves with your pretty feet.”

“Is that so?” I purred.

“Yes.” he said, removing a strand of hair from my face. "Because it means you're here with me, safe and sound."

Aemond’s words hit me so deep. He was looking at me not with his eye, but with his heart. And I couldn’t believe that there was such a love, so profound and selfless. I knew that our bond was stronger than any war.

I straddled him and kissed him passionately.

“Then I should learn some new dance steps, so that you don’t get bored.”

His grip tightened around me.

“I could never get bored with you… my Queen.” He said and sat up, attacking my lips with another tender kiss.

Suddenly, he turned me around, catching me off guard and making me lay on my stomach.

Before I could react, he gave me a playful spank.

I gasped, more surprised than hurt.

“Aemond!"

He leaned in close, tickling my ear with his hot breath, causing me to shiver.

"Consider it a reminder to not disregard your brother’s warnings.”

I turned my head to look at him.

“Maybe I like testing your patience." I teased him.

Aemond's eye glistened with a mix of amusement and desire.

“Then I'll have to find new ways to keep you in line." He spanked me again, this time a bit harder.

His hand lingered on my reddened skin and caressed the spot he had just struck.

"Maybe it's time I teach you a lesson… of what happens when you disobey your King.” he whispered.

His other hand slid between my thighs, teasing me until I was writhing beneath him.

“Oh, Aemond…” I moaned, as I followed the rhythm of his fingers in me.

“I think you'll like this lesson.” My brother said and spanked me hard once more.