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

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. 

My Safe Heaven (Aegon II Targaryen)

Aegon II Targaryen x F!Reader

Summary: You were a servant girl of the Red Keep, who caught the older prince's eye.

Warning: 18+ There will be smut, mention of sexual assault, mention of death.

Note: I hope it came out good!

"You have asked for me, my Prince?"

Aegon turned to the female voice that spoke once you stepped into his chambers.

You, a servant girl was holding a tray with wine. She was indeed pretty, he thought.

He saw you when he went to the wine cellar. He never seen you before. He would have remembered, surely. So when he asked about you, he was told of your name.

So he wanted to take you tonight.

"Yes," he said, clearing his throat, "Pour me some wine, will you?"

You frowned slightly but did as told. You placed the tray on the table and poured some wine into the goblet. You turned and walked toward him, and handed him the goblet and hesitated as you watched him drink.

"Is there anything you wish to speak of?"

The Prince pulled the goblet away from his lips and looked at you in confusion, "Speak of what?"

You blushed a little, and bowed lightly, "I apologize, I have seen this look before many times, so I assumed you wanted to say something."

Aegon smirked slightly with amusement, "And why would I want to sure with you my worries and thoughts? Does anyone in my family does it with you?"

You held your head high, "Your mother, the Queen." Aegon raised his eyebrow in surprise. "Ser Criston Cole does. Your sister-wife does."

"And what of my brother, Aemond?" Aegon asked with slight amusement.

"He does not," You answered, "But he is nice, and not as cold as everyone say he is."

Aegon hummed and stepped closer to you, "What do you think of me? Do you think I can be nice to you as well?"

You weren't surprised or afraid from how close he was getting. You simply took the goblet from his hand, "Perhaps if you would drink wine less, you would worry the Queen less."

Aegon stared at you, stunned by your boldeiness. You walked back to place the goblet on the tray and let out a breath. You shouldn't be speaking like that, what are you thinking?! your mind screamed at you.

You turned to him and he continued to stare at you. But you noticed that his eyes grew angry, it was like looking at--

You let out a breath again, "I apology my Prince. I have a bad past with drunk people."

"I don't care," Aegon said as he moved closer to you, his chest inches from yours. "Remember your place, girl. Next time, I will have your head on a spike. I hope I am clear."

You lowered your eyes, "Yes, Your Grace."

"Leave the wine here, and go."

You moved away and bowed before leaving the chambers. Aegon glared at the door before moving to grab the goblet to pour some more wine.

He paused for a moment before placing the goblet down on the tray with a groan.

---

Aegon hadn't seen you since that evening, which was two days after. He didn't knew why he was searching for you every time he saw servants around.

You were just a servant who didn't knew how to held her tongue. And since he complained to his mother, perhaps she got rid of you.

But for some reason, since that evening, Aegon had hardly drunk any wine that was served to him. Which pointed out by Aemond. That annoying girl got to me, he thought with annoyance when he wanted to tell him what happened but then stopped himself.

He crushed himself for thinking about your sad eyes when they met his angry ones.

He was annoyed at himself for even thinking about you.

But after another two days, he decided to speak to his mother about you. So when he stepped into his mother's chambers, he was surprised to see you there, helping his mother with her dress.

"Aegon," Alicent said as she stepped off from the small chair, looking at her older son with surprise.

You bowed to him but didn't make any eye contact with him, which for some reason again, it annoyed him. He looked at Alicent, "Mother."

"I'm surprised to see you here, in my chamber," Alicent said, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes..." he said, "I just, uh, it seems that Helaena needs you, so I decided to come and tell you myself."

Alicent frowned in concern, "Is she alright?"

No idea, he wanted to say. "She is. She just asking for you."

"All right," Alicent said and looked at you, "Thank you dear, you may leave now."

"Yes, Your Grace," You said and bowed to her and Aegon before quickly leaving.

Aegon pulled himself to the door before he could think, "Wait." You turned to him and darted your eyes down to the floor. Aegon hesitated and cleared his throat, "Bring me some wine to my chambers."

You hesitated but bowed and walked away.

You brought the wine to the Prince's chambers just like he asked, and pored some into the goblet when he walked inside and closed the doors.

He watched you walking closer and handed the goblet to him without making eye contact. He drunk the wine and handed it back to you.

He watched you walking to the tray and he cleared his throat. "Hold it," he said when he saw you were about to pour another. You turned to him in confusion and now you were looking at him.

"There is a feast this evening, so help me get ready," he said, clearing his throat.

"Your Grace?" You asked with confusion. "I don't think I--"

"I'm your Prince, right?" Aegon asked, and you nodded with hesitation, "So, I want you to help me get ready."

You hesitated but nodded lightly, "Would you like me to drew you a bath, Your Grace?"

Aegon nodded, "Yes."

You nodded and walked to his bathroom to fill his bath. Aegon glanced to the bathroom where he could see you. He slowly started to pull his clothes off of him as he slowly walked toward the room.

You glanced toward him but then away when you saw him naked. You cursed yourself and looked down. You bowed to him and turned to leave when he got inside.

"Wait."

You paused and turned to him but kept your eyes down. He wasn't looking at you either, "Stay here with me."

You hesitated but did as was asked. You looked around the room and Aegon darted his eyes to you, "What you said before..."

You turned to him and looked only at his face. "About having a bad past with drunk people..." he said, "What happened?"

"I don't think you will be interest in this, Your Grace," You said.

"Try me," Aegon challenged.

You looked at his face for a moment before you stepped closer and slowly sat next to the bath. You took a deep breath before explain, "I lived with my parents and older sister until I was seven. My father was a drunker and an abusive man, he was a failure as a father, and as a husband. One evening, my parents had a horrible fight... and he hit her, that badly it killed her moments after."

You tilted your head back and darted your eyes toward him to see him staring at you intensively. You glanced down at your hands, "And then... he turned his anger at my sister, who was 14... he hit her..." You looked at him, "And then he did more than that."

Aegon's eyes slight grew, and you looked down. "She screamed at me to run. So I did. I left my home, and came to the Red Keep when I was 14. The Queen knows about my past."

"So how come I haven't seen you before?" Aegon asked.

You smiled a little sadly, "I was trying to not get your attention. After what I heard... I didn't want to be like my sister. Or like the other maids and servants here."

Aegon looked away from you for a moment before looking back, "Then why did you came that evening when I called for you?"

You thought for a moment before looking back at your hands, "Well, I can not say no to the Prince... but I also wanted to see if what my gut tells me is true."

"About?"

"That you are not horrible like they say you are," You said softly as you looked at him.

Aegon stared at you for a moment with surprise. You looked back down at your hands. Aegon blinked and cleared his throat as he looked away. "You may go now to my bed chamber," he said and you looked at him, "I'll be alright here."

You nodded slowly and got up. You bowed and walked out of the bathroom.

---

After you helped the Prince get dressed for the feast, you had left to do your duties at the kitchens. But as the evening continued on, a maid approached you with a sad expression.

"Y/n, Prince Aegon wants you in his chambers," she said quietly for only you to hear.

"What, he already left the Throne room?" You asked.

The maid nodded, "Yes, and... he's drunk."

You paused and let out a soft sigh. You nodded and walked passed her to the doorway.

You walked down the hallways and soon enough reached Aegon's chambers. You knocked on the door and waited a moment before opening it and stepping in.

Aegon was in the middle of the room, trying to take off his jacket. "My Prince," you said as you bowed and closed the door.

Aegon turned to you, clearly he was indeed drunk and smiled, "Y/n. Mind helping out?"

You walked closer and helped him get out from his jacket and shirt. You quickly replaced his top with a loose, white bedshirt. Aegon chuckled and he let you led him to the bed and he sat there.

"Give me some more wine."

You paused, "I am afraid I can not, my Prince," you said and grabbed the blankets, "I think you drank enough."

"You can't tell me what to do, or how many wine I can drink," Aegon said, pouting like a child, "I haven't drunk much since I met you."

"Good," you muttered and nodded for him to lay down, "Please, lay down on the bed."

Aegon smirked, "Are we going to fuck now?"

You rolled your eyes, "No, my Prince. You going to sleep."

Aegon groaned but pushed himself into his bed, and you pulled the blankets up.

You blow up a few candles and was about to blow the last one which was next to the bed. "Stay here," Aegon asked softly as he grabbed your wrist.

You sighed softly, "My Prince, we--"

"Just, stay here," Aegon said softly, and you stared down at him with a tilt of your head. "I don't wish to be alone tonight."

Your slight annoyed look turned sympathy. You looked at him for a moment before nodding slightly. Aegon slid aside, and tagged on your wrist. You hesitantly sat on the bed and moved to propping yourself against the various pillows.

You were startled as Aegon placed the side of his head on your chest. You took a breath to calm yourself.

"Tell me why?" he muttered as he wrapped his arm around your stomach.

"Why what, My Prince?" you asked softly.

"Why does everyone hate me?"

You froze by those words and without realizing, you started to slowly and softly brush your fingers on his hair.

"It's what my mother used to do for me," you muttered. Aegon let his eyes slowly close, feeling relaxed by your soft touches. You glanced down at him, "And no one hates you."

"My family does," he muttered.

You shook your head lightly, "No. They don't." You debated if you should admit you don't either, so you admitted, "And neither do I, My Prince."

None of you spoke after that, but you felt him tightening his grip on you.

----

Weeks had past.

Every evening, Aegon would seek you, and the two of you would be spending time together inside the Prince's chambers.

But nothing happened between you two besides talking about how your day went. You the one who started that after that night of the feast, when you started to ask how was his day and if he wanted to speak of it more.

Having you around, coming every evening to spend the time with him, asking him how was his day, and listening to how he was, made Aegon feel something. He felt like you cared for him.

You could easily say no for coming over, he told you that, but you still coming. You sit by him, you brushes your fingers through his hair to help him fell asleep.

You were also keeping an eye on his drinking limits.

You became his friend.

His only friend.

Ever since he met you, he hasn't gone to the brothels or went after the female servants, which Alicent was informed of. She was highly surprised and delighted by it.

She didn't knew why. But she hoped that it would continue this way.

However, she was informed that there was one female servant that was keeping Aegon company.

You.

So, the Queen summoned you to her chambers one evening.

"Your Grace, you wanted to see me?" you asked as you bowed.

"Yes, I wanted to speak to you about something," Alicent said, "Come, sit." You sat next to her on the couch, and looked at your hands nervously. "I wanted to ask, if you are alright."

You looked at her and blinked. You nodded, "Um, yes, Your Grace. I am."

"Really?" the Queen asked, concerned, "Because if not, and my son has said not to tell me, you can."

You looked slightly confused, "No. Uh, nothing is wrong, Your Grace."

Alicent looked highly surprised, "Aegon hasn't... done anything to you?"

You shook her head, "No, Your Grace."

"I was told you going to his chamber every evening because he asks for you."

You hesitated but nodded, "Yes, Your Grace. We only sharing conversations."

Alicent's eyebrows rose up in surprise, "You and Aegon only having talks in his chambers? Every evening?"

You nodded, "Yes, Your Grace."

The Queen was surprised by this information, "But he isn't himself anymore... not that I miss that part of him."

You shrugged lightly.

Alicent had dismissed you and let you go back to your duties. You were asked to help with Aegon and Princess Helaena's twins.

Jaehaerys and Jaehaera were adorable and you enjoyed to spend time with them, and they with you. You were reading them a bedtime story, with Jaehaera lying her head on your chest while Jaehaerys was lying inside his crib.

When you saw that the twins were now asleep, you stood up quietly and placed Jaehaera in her crib. But when that happened, the little Princess opened her eyes and reached her arms to you.

You smiled as you picked her up into your arms, and gently rubbed her back, "You need to sleep, little Princess."

Jaehaera rested her head on your shoulder as she closed her eyes. You stood by the window, watching outside as you rubbed Jaehaera's back softly.

"Now I see what taken so long to come visit," a quiet voice spoke and You turned to watch Aegon walking in, with a small smile on his lips.

"Your twins wanted me to keep them company, Your Grace," you said as a small smile appeared on your lips, "I could not say no to them."

"I wasn't expecting you to," Aegon said softly as he approached closer.

You looked around at the empty room before at the Prince. "Your mother had asked for me. She wanted to ask if you had done something to me because I am keeping you company every evening now for weeks."

"Mmm. And what have you said?"

"I admitted we only having conversations, that is all," you answered quietly, feeling that the little Princess had fallen asleep in your arms. You continued rubbing the child's back gently as you glanced to her figure with a small smile.

Aegon noticed the smile, and the way your eyes seemed different when you were looking at the twins. He suddenly thought about what it would be if his twins were with yours instead with his sister. If he would have seen you before, he thought maybe, you could have changed him long ago.

He could have had someone who truly cared for him, long ago. He wouldn't have felt so alone.

He wouldn't care that you were a servant, he would have wanted you to be his side. He would have fight his parents for you. He could...

"You can be a great mother one day," he suddenly spoke.

Your eyes darted to him and then at Jaehaera with a small smile, "Perhaps. Who knows if my time will come." Your smile faded slightly. "It would be nice to have family of your own. With someone who will care and love you."

I could do that Aegon thought as he stared at you while you walked to Jaehaera's crib and placed her inside. This time she was completely asleep.

You smiled softly as you looked from her to Jaehaerys and followed the Prince out of the chamber. You followed him into his chamber, "So how was your--"

You turned to him and your words were cut off when Aegon crushed his lips against yours. He placed his hands on your neck to keep you from moving away, which he hoped you weren't thinking of doing.

Aegon pulled his lips from your, but only for inches, "I have never wanted something that much until I set my eyes on you," he muttered between your lips.

He felt your hands moving to his cheeks and up to his hair as you kissed him back, passionately.

"Aegon--" you tried to say but it came as a moan as he released your lips only to move his lips down your jaw, trailing down to your throat. You moved your head back, giving him more room as he trailed his kisses down.

You grabbed his cheeks again and you the one to pulled him to your lips, kissing him with so much passion and hunger that surprised and delighted him.

Aegon, gently as he could, reached down and pulled your legs up. You wrapped you legs around his waist as he moved you both to his bed. He placed you on the sheets without breaking the kiss.

Your mind was racing. You tried to think, but all you could think and feel right now, was Aegon.

His lips.

His hands.

The two of you took each other's clothes off, Aegon pulled himself to your face and kissed you again hungrily.

You slipped your tongue past his teeth, and Aegon lost it. He grabbed hold of your face instantly pressing deeper into you, allowing himself to fully taste you. You moaned at the feeling of him.

Aegon pulled his lips from yours, trailing down to your throat and farther down. You moaned as you felt his lips on your chest.

"You're more beautiful than I could ever have imagined," he muttered as he kissed your breast, making you moan and grip his hair.

"Aegon," you moaned. He moved back to your face as he grabbed your legs.

You parted your legs from him to moved in between. He kissed down to your pulse, "You're mine," he said quietly.

Your head fell back into his pillows as he slid two fingers up your wet slit without a warning. "Gods, Aegon," you moaned, "Please."

"What do you want for me to do, my little princess," he teased as he kissed you throat while you pushed your hips down to his fingers.

You moaned with frustration, "Just fuck me."

"Mmm," he hummed, "Your wish is my command."

You felt him slipping his fingers out, and before you could catch your breath, you felt the tip of his cock slipping into your entrance.

Aegon groaned, his eyes rolling back as he felt your wet heat against the tip of his cock. He pushed himself into you, white hot pleasure erupting in his belly as he felt your walls clenching around him. You whimpered at the stretch of his cock and Aegon stroked your hair to sooth you, "My Princess. You're taking me so well."

You moaned while he groaned as he pulled out. Your legs wrapped around his middle tighter and Aegon took that as a mean that you're ready for more, not wasting a second before starting to thrust into you.

The both of you moaned at the feeling and Aegon quickly pressed his lips into yours again. He started to move, hips snapping faster into yours. The more you moaned, the faster he moved.

"Aegon, I--" you moaned, not been able to finish your words.

"I'm getting close too," he grunted out, panting heavily as he pounded you into his mattress, grunting loudly as his seed spilled deep inside your cunt. 

You both moaned as you finished. Aegon didn't pull out of you, he pressed himself into you more, deeper. You panted and brushed your fingers on his messy hair.

A moment of silent passed and Aegon finally pulled out from you. He rolled on his back to lay next to you, panting. You turned on your side to look at him and saw satisfaction in his eyes.

You hesitated to ask now what, but when Aegon reached to his blankets and simply covered the two of you. He pulled you to his chest, your back pressed to his front.

You chuckled softly as he wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer. "I didn't know you were a cuddler, my Prince."

"Only with you," he muttered and pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder.

You tilted your head to look at him and smiled a soft smile before whispering, "What would happen now?"

Aegon looked at you, and smirked, "Now... we rest before the second round."

You rolled your eyes but smiled with amusement as you playfully hit his chest, "Not that. I meant what we'll do from now on?"

Aegon rolled the two of you so you were on the sheets and he was on top of you. He placed his hand on your jaw, "As from now on..." He leaned down and kissed your throat, making you close your eyes with pleaser. "You are mine."

He trailed his kisses up and down your throat and then up to kiss your lips before pulling away slightly to look into your eyes. "You are all mine." You trailed your finger down his cheek, the touch made his close his eyes. "My safe heaven."

Taglist:

@lawlerek, @thenovelcarnival, @mynameisbaby9, @carriellie, @parizparis, @xcharlottemikaelsonx, @daddysfavoritesexkitten, @uselessbutinteresting, @hc-geralt-23, @babyblue-chaos, @azaleapotterblack, @hydrationqueensworld, @firefirevampire, @burningshewolf

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking…girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.

Sleeping, Dancing and Mistletoe

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Times when people found evidence that you and Logan were possibly a couple, and the one time you both finally confirmed it.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff, mentions/illusions to sex, Logan checking you out. Couple of swear words here and there. This has been unfinished in my drafts for at least a week so...yeah. This is finished. little Christmas at the end. Not Proof Read.

For what felt like the thirtieth time in the hour, you turned over with a huff and pressed your pillow to your ears, trying to muffle the sounds coming from next door. 

And just as it finally died down, you sighed and was just about to thank some ancient being for hearing your prayers when…it started again. 

“That’s it.”

Changing out of your longer pyjama bottoms and into some sleep shorts, you made your way out of your room, keeping your footsteps as quiet as you could until the noises faded away and you started to reach your intended room. 

Opening up the door, you found exactly what you were looking for. 

Shaking his shoulder as he lay on his stomach, you whispered his name, hoping he’d hear you. 

“Logan.” You shook him for a third time. “Logan.” 

Nothing. 

With another sigh, you slapped his face gently and said his name once more, a little louder and firmer. 

“Logan.”

Finally, he groaned. “What?” 

His voice was muffled by his pillow but you could hear him just well enough. Or maybe you were just used to his grunts that they were starting to become their own language you could understand. 

“Move over. I’m sleeping here tonight.”

“What’s wrong with your bed?”

“Nothing.”

“Then go and sleep there.” Logan turned his head away from you and scrunched up his pillow beneath his head.

“I can’t. My neighbours have decided tonight is Valentine’s Day 2.0.”

You pushed half of his body with your hands until he finally got the cue to turn over. 

“Too much information.”

You shook your head, “Too much information is what I’ve been hearing for the last hour.”

Finally, Logan rolled onto his back, his covers covering his bottom half, and groaned. “Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Logan straightened himself in his bed, giving you room to get in beside him. And the minute you touched his covers, you were glad you had changed into shorts. 

Logan was like a furnace. Just constant heat radiating from his body and for as much as it, at times, got too hot to stand near him, he was also, in your opinion, the best person to fall asleep beside. 

“Just shut up and go to sleep.”

Laying on your side, it wasn’t long until you closed your eyes, thankful that you could hear nothing other than Logan’s steady breathing and the distant clock down the hall that was forever ticking. 

However, just before you fully drifted off, you felt Logan’s hand take hold of yours and you smiled. 

He could be gruff all he liked, but when it came to you, he could be a softie. 

By the time morning rolled around, Storm was in search of both yourself and Logan. So, when she found your bed empty and cold, she figured Logan would know where you were. 

But he was asleep. 

Right beside you. 

Storm leaned against the door frame for a while, taking in the picture in front of her. 

Logan was fast asleep, something that was a miracle in itself, with you right beside him, your head turned towards the windows in his room, his own looking towards you, all the while, his arm slung over your midsection and one of your own hands, holding his. 

“Storm- what are you- Oh.”

Jean looked inside. 

“Looks like someone had a good night.” She smiled before looking back at Storm. “Do you think we can finally ask if they’re together?”

“I’d say this is confirmation enough.”

You shifted in your sleep as did Logan, and the two girls hid behind the corner for a moment. 

You turned your head and the rest of your body towards Logan, all the while his arm held you in a stronger grip and pulled you towards him. 

It took you a moment but you finally opened your eyes, adjusting to the light before your vision finally cleared on a sleeping Logan. 

For a moment, you allowed the hand between you both to reach up and brush the stray hairs from his eyes. It was rare you ever got to see Logan this…calm. 

Serene. 

Rested. 

Unknowingly, you started to run your left thumb over Logan’s arm that still held onto you. 

Then his fingers twitched, running over the exposed skin at the bottom of your back. 

“Are you watching me sleep?” His voice was rough, the first words in the morning. 

“Not anymore,” you smiled, brushing the final parts of his hair out of his face. 

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

Then a cough came from the door. 

Logan groaned. “Is this a new hobby; watching people sleep?”

Jean and Storm laughed from the door. “You two look cosy.”

You lifted your head and glared at Jean. “There is one reason I’m here. Maybe I think it’s time you make an investment in soundproof walls.”

Jean turned a little red and Storm laughed. 

“Look, we’ve got a busy day. You can kiss your boyfriend later.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you called out just as Logan called; “She’s not my girlfriend.”

Storm and Jean nodded and just as Jean snapped a picture, she sent it to both yourself and Logan as they walked away. 

“Sure.”

Leaning up, Logan reached for his phone to see the notification pop up before he placed it back down and you climbed out of bed. 

“They’re got a point.”

“About us being a couple?”

You threw a t-shirt at Logan. “Having a busy day.”

Logan laughed a little, scrubbing his face as he watched you leave his room before he reached behind him and took hold of his phone once more. 

Jean and Storm were right. 

From the picture…they did look like a couple. 

A couple of days passed and you were sitting in the quiet living room, the fires on both sides roaring. 

All classes had been finished for two days and some kids had returned home for the holidays, which meant you had some free time on your hands. 

And for you, that meant finally reading. 

Until you sensed someone stood behind you. 

“If you want to know what happens, you could just ask me.”

Logan plucked the book from your hands and circled around the sofa before coming to sit down beside you. 

“Logan! Give it back.”

“I want to see what it’s about.”

You sighed and sat up, “It’s a romance, Logan.”

“A romance?” Logan had a hint of a smirk on his face. “Like the…trashy kind?”

“Like the romantic kind.”

Logan looked at you and smiled. “The trashy kind.”

You rolled your eyes and took the book back from him, leaving him to fix the blanket so it rested over both of you. He placed his arm over the back of the sofa, allowing you to lean into him, whether you noticed you were doing so or not. 

“Just because you might not believe in romance, doesn’t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“I believe in romance.” 

“Yeah, right.”

Logan couldn’t help but smile. “What?”

“The Wolverine,” you said with a deep voice. “Believes in romance?”

Logan nodded. “Occasionally.”

“Occasionally?”

“Do you just like repeating everything I say?”

You nodded and smiled. “Occasionally.”

Logan rolled his eyes and took the book back from you and read a line out loud. 

“People really talk like this?”

You leaned into Logan. “No, but in a book it’s not so bad. Go on, read some more.”

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

You nodded. “You’re like my own personal audiobook.”

Logan gave a short smile before getting a little cosier and continued reading out loud. 

It wasn’t long before Logan found you asleep against him and he shifted in order to avoid you getting a crick in your neck. 

“Keep reading.”

“I thought you were asleep.” 

“Now I’m awake.” 

“Fine, just be quiet.”

You gave a fake salute. “Yes, sir.”

Holding his arm around your body that was pressed between himself and the sofa, Logan quickly kissed the top of your head and went back to reading. 

And ten minutes later, you were asleep. 

And so was he. 

An hour passed before someone found either of you, but this time, it was Scott and Bobby. 

“They might be in- oh. What do we have here?”

“Oh my god, Rouge has to see this. I told her they were together.”

Bobby rushed off and soon returned, pulling Rouge with him. 

“What is it?” Then she gasped. 

“Believe me now?”

And what Rouge saw made her smile. 

On the slightly too small sofa for Logan, you lay both between him and the sofa, as well as partly on him with your hand a little over his heart. His head was turned towards you. The blanket had fallen a little, so she reached over and pulled it up both of you before turning around and throwing a log onto the fire. 

“Come on, let's leave them.”

“But-”

“No, you are not going to disturb them. Come on.”

Rouge dragged the pair out and closed the door behind her. 

The third time people suspected you and Logan were an item was one late evening in October. 

Half of the kids were playing outside with all the freshly fallen leaves, whilst some of the older kids helped them find different critters and point them out, and build them habitats. The rest of the kids were either in their rooms or studying. 

Save for two. 

Bobby and Rouge were hiding outside of the kitchen watching yourself and Logan cook. 

“I didn’t even know he knew how to…chop. Let alone cook.”

“You should have more faith in him.”

“Come on, Rouge. You can’t tell me you weren't thinking it, too.”

And she couldn’t. Because she was. 

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, Logan was watching you from the kitchen island as he continued chopping the veg. 

There was something different about you. From the way you practically danced around the kitchen finding the different items for the recipe, to just…you. Whilst he was (semi) shirtless, just having his zipper hoodie on, along with his jeans and socks. He would have been fully dressed, except you had come and ambushed him in his room – even though you denied the word “ambushed” – to get him to help. 

And you were just simply in your pyjamas (of sorts) along with one of his zipper hoodies. 

“Bub,”

Logan laid down his knife and walked over to you as you stood by the stove, standing a little higher to see how much water was left in the pot at the back. 

You hummed a questioned response, but was met with a question…you didn’t expect. 

“Dance with me?”

“What?”

Logan smiled lightly as he pulled the wooden spoon from your hand and pulled you closer to him, despite him walking backwards. 

“Come on,” his voice in a light whisper. “Dance with me.”

“Didn’t take you for a dancer.”

Outside the door, Bobby and Rouge mouthed to each other; “They’re dancing.”

And you both were. 

Gently swaying to the music for a while, you allowed Logan to lead you around a small space in the centre of the kitchen. 

“We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Logan gave a slight smile at you as he spun you out and back in, “We’re not gonna burn the sauce.”

“Logan.”

“Can’t you ever just enjoy a moment?”

“When that moment doesn’t include burning the house down, yes.”

“Bit of a jump, don’t you think, from burning the sauce.”

“Ha, so you agree. We’re gonna burn the sauce.”

Moving over, Logan turned down the heat on one of the pans before taking your hand back into his. “Now we won’t.”

Bobby and Rouge watched, in shock, the rest. 

For one, Logan knew how to dance? Since when? And since when did he…cook and dance in the kitchen? Unless…

Then Logan did something even you didn’t expect. 

He dipped you. 

You hand tightened its grip on Logan’s arm as you let out a small, if a little nervous, laugh. 

Logan had been full of surprises recently. From the impromptu audiobook session in which you woke up in his arms, to him not only dropping off a cup of coffee during your break from teaching but also a freshly baked muffin. 

And now he was dancing with you in the kitchen. 

And dipping you. 

When you had rushed him out of his room to help you cook, you hadn’t expected him to know the recipe for the sauce from the top of his head. Something he just happened to rattle off whilst you were looking for the cooking notebook that should have been in the cupboard beside the oven. Let alone be the one to ask to dance in the kitchen, and dip you. 

Bring you back up, both of you gave a slight chuckle as you turned around, the music slowly fading away in the background. 

“Logan…”

Looking at him, you forgot what you were going to say. 

Had his eyes always had so much green in them? 

Logan’s palm became warm against your back as it pressed further into you. Or maybe you pressed further into him and he just held you tighter. 

Slowly, your hand left his bicep and trailed towards his chest all the while your eyes studied his face. You’d known him for years and seen him a thousand times or more. 

So why did now feel like you were seeing him for the first time? Noticing him? Noticing each particle he was made up of that allowed him to sway with you in the kitchen to the music that had changed on the radio?

Only, before the space between yourself and Logan became any more closer, a noise came from outside the door. 

A sneeze. 

A sneeze that shocked you and Logan back into reality. 

Still holding you, Logan looked towards the door and gave a hint of a smile when he saw the flash of white disappear behind the beam. 

Realising what was happening, you lowered yourself back to the ground and slowly stepped out of Logan’s arms. “We should finish up.”

Logan nodded in agreement, however did look back at you when you got back to the stove, not noticing you do the same a few moments later, watching him pick up the rest of the veg and toss it into the collider to be washed. 

Time passed and after more music, more conversation - including a burnt tongue from when you had shoved a wooden spoon with fresh sauce on, into Logan’s mouth for him to try - and a lot of scrubbing later, you found Logan sitting inside the library and collapsed next to him. 

“Good news, the kids loved the food,” you told Logan. “Double good news; Jean and Scott are on cooking duty tomorrow.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Thank you for helping me.” Turning to look at Logan, you found him already looking. 

“You did ambush me.”

“I didn’t ambush you.”

“I wasn’t dressed.” Logan examined himself. “Technically, I’m still not.”

You rolled your eyes with a slight smile. “Fine. Maybe it was a mini, tiny, miniscule ambush.” 

You made a small space between your fingers. “Like this big of an ambush.”

Logan looked at you, at your fingers and then back to you in slight disgust before moving your fingers wider with his own. 

“That big of an ambush.”

You rolled your eyes and dropped your hand. “And they say us women are dramatic.”

It was Logan’s turn to roll his eyes. However, as he did so, his arm wrapped around you, and pulled you back into him and the sofa. 

“Just shut the fuck up for a minute and listen.”

You did so. 

“I don’t hear anything.”

“That’s the point.” Logan’s eyes were shut as his head rested on the back of the sofa. 

Eventually you gave a shrug and joined him. 

An hour later, Storm found you both fast asleep beside one another so with a knowing smile, she found a blanket, covered you both up and closed the door behind her. But not before reminding herself she needed to get verbal confirmation from you both. 

She wasn’t handing over any money to Jean and Xavier until she had verbal confirmation of what exactly was going on between you two. 

And she didn’t have to wait long…at least in the long run, she didn’t have to wait long. 

Until then, there were plenty more incidents of falling asleep next to each other, bringing each other coffee, dancing to music in the kitchen, smiling and laughing – all before she finally got verbal confirmation that the inevitable had finally happened. 

Finally, it was acceptable to decorate for Christmas. 

Two days prior, Rogue, Logan and Storm had been helping you find all the old decorations in the attic and bring them down. Storm did try then to bribe something out of Rogue, but she apparently was just in the dark as the rest of them. 

But the smile she gave when she looked over at Logan, who was placing down another box from the back of the pile for you to take a look at, told Storm something different. 

“I can’t believe you leave it this late to decorate.”

Logan looked at you. “We’re still in November.”

“So?” 

Taking hold of the garland, you started to climb the ladder. Logan held onto the bottom just to be safe. 

“If you had it your way, the decorations would be up all year round.”

“Hey, no.”

“Hey, yes.”

“I’d take them down for…” you tried to think. “Halloween. You’d have a little break.”

Logan didn’t look entirely thrilled. “Halloween is one day.”

“Technically, it’s a month.”

“To you, it’s a month. To the rest of us, it’s a day.”

You looked back at him. “To you it’s a day, to the rest of us it’s a month.”

Then you looked back at the garland. “How does that look?”

“Great from where I’m standing.”

You looked a little confused for a second before quickly looking over your shoulder, realising where Logan was, in fact, looking. 

Not at the garland, but at your ass. 

You smiled and started to step down the ladder, hitting his shoulder on the way down. 

“I meant the garland.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” Logan looked up. “Looks great.”

You laughed. “You didn’t even look.”

With a smile as you finally stepped back into his arm, he looked to the side and up. “It looks great.”

“Good. Now,” Logan turned back to look at you and you kissed him quickly. “We have to put up five more.”

“I get to watch you put up five more.”

You smiled. “This is why you’re my favourite person.”

Logan smiled. He could help you with everything else, but when it came to the garland, you had full control on where it went. Which, he didn’t mind. So long as he got to watch you put it up. 

You quickly kissed him once more, only to be pulled back when you tried to walk away. 

Then Logan gave you a real kiss. 

A little dizzy, you smiled and placed a hand on his chest and closed your eyes. “Wow.”

He gave you a quicker, lighter kiss. “You better get going before Rogue comes back with another box of lights.”

“Light?” Then it hit you. “Oh, yeah.”

Logan smirked a little as he watched you walk away and down the hallway. 

It was a couple of hours before everyone was in the same room, making the final touches all the while most of the other kids were either playing outside in the snow, were taking naps or decorating their own rooms. 

And the others had been watching you and Logan all day. 

The stolen glances, the stolen touches, the slightly knowing smiles from both Rogue and Bobby. And then, as Logan was helping you down from the ladder, his hand on your thigh, Bobby went to make the final hammer to hang up the mistletoe. 

“Wait, no. Not there.”

“Where then?”

Storm looked around. “I know. Y/n, hang this just above there. We don’t need a remake of Mistletoe Central 1997.”

Logan looked at Storm. “Do I wanna know?”

Storm shook her head. “Here.”

She handed you the mistletoe before Logan passed you the hammer back from his belt. 

Three knocks and the nail was set in and the mistletoe was above you on a corner beam, just a little to the side of the christmas tree. 

At least this way, those looking for it, would find it. 

"Oh, no, wait.” Jean said, looking at you. “Have to kiss someone. It’s tradition. You’re under the mistletoe.”

There was no one else apart from Logan.

Logan looked around at the others. He wondered how long it would take. 

Coming up behind you on the ladder, you moved over for him to stand beside you. His palm on your back held you steady and, leaning his other arm on the ledge of the ladder, his hand cupped your face and he kissed you. 

Lasting a little longer than the others had expected, you soon heard Rogue giving a little cheer, as well as a couple of whistles from the others. 

“Okay, I think they get it.” You whispered to Logan as he finally pulled away, a smile very noticeable on both of your faces. 

“Happy now?” Logan asked, turning towards where Jean and Scott were standing. 

“That was some kiss.”

You felt yourself blush at the comment. As did Logan. 

He helped you back down the ladder before you both turned and really saw the other's expression. As well as the exchanging of money between people. 

“Sooo…how long has this been going on?”

You were leaning into Logan, his hand around your back and on your hip. 

You looked at Logan, “A couple of months. We’re…what? November now so that would…”

“That would…” Logan counted back in his head. “May…June, July…six months.”

You looked back to the others. “Six months.”

A chorus of shocked faces and loud voices sounded out; “SIX MONTHS?!”

All before a small call from Rogue was made, which made both yourself and Logan smile. 

“I knew it!”

Thorough

aemond x preg!sister!wife!reader 

Summary: Aemond is overprotective while you’re pregnant but never ceases to make sure you have everything you need and are well satisfied. 

Warnings: 18+ p in v, oral(f receiving), swearing, bondage(but like not intense? idk!), nipple play, lactation kink, breeding kink, description of birth but not super intense 

Authors Note: i’ll literally secure this man’s line whether it’s 1 or 20 kids idec, im not ready to write a full birth scene yet, this is me testing the waters since im going to write a literal "x preg!reader" series soon

Word Count: 3.6k

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“And you’re positive?” Aemonds voice carries through the maesters chambers as I lay back on the bed. 

“With all of my years of study and her symptoms they both are telling me yes, my Prince.” he nods his head. 

My hands hold onto my lower abdomen as my head spins. I’m with child already and we’ve only been wed one turn of the moon. Aemond has been very thorough waiting for this news so I can’t say I’m surprised. A smile splits across my face as his hand joins mine. 

Aemond is quickly pulling me up to my feet and ushering me out of the maesters chambers as he shouts after us to send word to him if we need any help. He has us down the stairs and turning the corner to our chambers hauling me along with him. 

“Aemond slow down.” I giggle as he tugs me into our chambers. 

His lips are on me the instant he turns to me. He starts pulling off my dress and backing me to the bed. I squeak as I fall back onto our bed as he starts to undress before me. He’s crawling over me in no time and I feel his hardened length against my thighs. His hands roam all over my body stopping at my breasts. 

“I cannot wait to see these swell with milk.” he rolls my nipples between his fingers. “Along with your stomach round with our child.” he groans as he captures my nipple with his mouth. 

My breasts have been more sensitive than usual, which was the first sign. Aemond refuses to leave them alone and turns me into a whimpering mess any chance he can get. As he suckles I push my chest up into his face as I hold him to me. 

“Gunna fuck you until you’re full of my seed just to make sure you’re with child.” he mumbles against my chest and I squirm beneath him. 

He kisses back up my neck and lets a hand travel down to my core. He slides his fingers down my slit and chuckles at my wetness. He dips two long fingers into me and I let out a shaky breath. He brings his thumb up to swirl slowly around my bud and I clench around his fingers. I come undone and he’s quickly replacing his fingers with his length. 

“Already squeezing me so good.” he groans as he rolls his hips. “Can’t get enough of my seed can you, my greedy little wife?” he pants as he starts to pound into me.

“Aem, please,” I whine as I cling to him. 

He captures my lips as he continues with his fast pace. I whimper into his mouth as I feel pleasure sneak up and wash through me. His hips slow as they start to pump into me slowly, hitting deep within me. He rests his forehead against mine as our hips meet seeking more pleasure. I feel his warmth start to spread throughout me as I moan holding him close. He continues to grind his hips into me as he keeps pushing his seed into me. 

Our pants mingle as he slowly settles in me. My body is vibrating as he refuses to pull out leaving me completely full of him. He rests above me and we kiss each other desperately. After a couple minutes I feel him start to harden again inside me. I whine as I feel him start to move his hips once more. 

“You can take it.” he grunts as his fingers start to swirl around my bud. 

Between his fingers and his slow pumps I’m clenching around him again. After I come down I can feel that he’s fully hard and I feel him smile against my neck as he starts to rut into me. I’m whimpering beneath him as he continues to circle my sensitive bud. 

“Aemond I can’t-“ my body starts shaking from pleasure and he chuckles lowly. 

“You can.” he purrs as his hips start to move even quicker. 

A moan tears through me as I explode around him and I feel him begin to fill me once more. My eyes squeeze shut as pleasure continues to course through me in waves. He settles in me once more but this time he flips us so I’m resting against his chest. I rest my head listening to his heartbeat as we come down from our highs. Every once in a while he’ll push his hips up into me pulling a soft whimper from my lips. 

“Rest, my beautiful wife.” he hums petting my hair. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

5 months along

Aemond and I have been getting into spats about what I can and cannot do. He’s become so fiercely protective that I can’t even leave our chambers without him on my heels. Today’s fight is about me wanting to ride on dragonback which he hasn’t allowed me to do in almost a fortnight and I’ve had enough. 

“I want to go out riding.” I huff looking up to him with my hands on my hips. 

“And I said I would take you out on Vhagar.” he looks down at me equally as stubborn. 

“I want to go on my dragon.” I narrow my eyes at him. “Vhagar is larger than the seven fucking kingdoms and you want me to climb up her?” I walk closer to him. 

“Do not use that tone with me.” his nostrils flare. 

“I’m going out on my dragon and that’s final.” I roll my eyes and go to walk past him to exit our chambers. 

“You will not.” he grabs my arm. “You will ride Vhagar or me.” his eyes darken as they go to my growing stomach as he spreads one of his hands across it.

“Aemond.” I warn hoping he doesn’t catch my blush creeping up my neck. “Let me ride my dragon and then you can keep me in bed for the rest of the day.” I know my blush is visible by the way he’s smirking at me. 

“I could keep you in bed now if I wanted.” he pulls me to his chest. 

“Please, husband.” I look up to him with pleading eyes. “Please,” I cup his face begging at this point. 

“You know I can never say no to you.” he relents shaking his head. “Gods I would do anything for you.” he dips down to kiss me. 

“Do not try to distract me.” I pull away and tug him to the doors. 

He has a carriage bring us to the pits within minutes. The servants and the guards try to steer clear of him. He’s been particularly hellish this past month once I started showing. If a man stares at me for too long he threatens to take their head. I’ve had to pull him away multiple times from quaking guards who feel his wrath. I was starting to think he already yelled that the dragon keepers to not allow me to ride. 

“If anything feels wrong land immediately and I will carry you back.” he looks to me intensely as we wait for my dragon to come out. 

I roll my eyes at him before a smile breaks across my face and my dragon emerges. She stops in front of me and chuffs softly nudging into my hand instead of my swollen stomach. I pat her happily and she sings a soft song. 

“How I’ve missed you.” I coo as I hug her. “Shall we go for a ride?” I smile as she dips down lower than normal to accommodate me. 

I climb on with ease and settle into my seat. I fasten my belts and clips and look down to Aemond. I see the worry painted across his face as he looks up to me. 

“I have half a mind to tell you to get down.” he calls up to me. 

“I have half a mind to burn you where you stand.” my tone playful. 

“I love you.” he smiles up to me. 

“I’ll see you in the skies.” I hum as my dragon leads us out of the pits. 

Once she’s in the sky I let out a laugh of euphoria. The wind in my hair and the sun on my skin is exactly what I needed. We fly around the city as we wait for Aemond to make his way to Vhagar. I hear her groan from the city limits as she makes her way into the sky. We make our way to Vhagars side and she gives out a deep grumble. 

My dragon and I twirl around Vhagar and I can feel the concern radiating off of Aemond. I care not about the scolding I’ll receive later. For now I enjoy the freedom of the breeze and laugh wildly. After an hour I relent and make my way back to the pits. I have them bring out feed for her and watch her indulge as I wait for Aemond to come collect me. 

“If you must be on dragonback again it will be Vhagar or no one. I can’t believe you would fly around so recklessly while carrying our child.” I sigh figuring this would be his response. 

“So I can’t ride you either, husband?” I look up to him biting my lip hoping I can sway him. 

“I do not jest. I will tie you to the bed if I must.” he holds my arms tightly. 

“What if I want you to tie me to the bed anyways?” my voice low as I look up to him through my lashes. 

He pulls me out of the pits by my arm and I smile trailing after him. The carriage ride back to the Keep is silent and he keeps a firm hand on my thigh at all times. He pushes us through the Keep halls avoiding everyone until he has us sealed in our chambers. He towers over me and grabs my face. 

“Get on the bed.” his voice low as his eye bores into mine. 

I start walking over to the bed as he begins pulling my dress off of me. He leaves me in my slip as I lay back on the bed. He goes over to the posters of the frame to find the silk ribbons we leave tied to them. He grabs one of my hands and he secures it with a knot and moves to my next hand. 

“Is this what you wanted, my naughty wife?” he taunts as he looks over me. I nod my head squeezing my thighs together looking for friction as he strips off his clothes. “Don’t hide from me now.” he rasps sitting on the bed spreading my thighs exposing my dripping core. 

“Aemond,” I whine as his hands ghost up my legs. 

“I shouldn’t let you come but I love the noises you make. So I’ll make you come until I’ve decided you’ve had enough.” he dips his head down and licks up my slit. 

My head falls back into the pillows as he laps at my bud. My body begins to shake as my pleasure already starts to coil. I grind against his face and cry out when his nose brushes against my sensitive bud. His tongue dips into my core and explode around him. 

He licks back up my slit and swirls his tongue quickly around my bud. My legs squeeze around his head as he continues his assault. My hands pull against the silk wishing I could touch him or myself. My hips buck into his face and he chuckles as I come against his face again. 

He snakes up my body and stops above my breasts. He smirks as he dips down and traces over one of my covered nipples with his tongue. My breath catches as I push my chest into his face. When he grazes his teeth against my sensitive peak I give out a soft cry. As he nibbles on one he brings his fingers over to my other to start pinching and pulling as I mewl beneath him.

“Gods are you gunna come from just this alone?” he mumbles against my chest. 

I let out a sob as he pulls my slip up baring me to him. When his hot mouth wraps around my nipple once more I buck my hips up into him. He brings his hand up to grab at my other breast and I let out a tortured whine. My body goes taught as he pinches and pulls and I come undone pulling at the silk. 

“You are absolutely divine.” he chuckles against my chest. 

He trails his tongue between my breasts and licks at my throat. He licks along my lips and finally locks us in a kiss. His hands trail up my arms and interlock our fingers. I arch my body into his trying to get closer. He slowly pushes into me and I whimper into his mouth. He starts a quick pace and watches as my face contorts. 

“I should leave you tied up to this bed for the rest of your pregnancy. Only come up here to feed you and fill you.” I cry out at his words as his hips grind into me. 

He brings his fingers down to my bud and I burst around him. He grunts as his hips slow as my walls flutter around him. He continues to push into me slowly as I pant his name over and over. I feel him twitch inside and when I feel him begin to fill me I come undone with my eyes rolling back. 

“My perfect wife.” he sighs rolling to the side and spreading his hand across my bump. 

“Will you untie me?” I ask still trying to catch my breath. 

“I’m not done with you yet.” he smiles capturing my lips once more. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

8 months along 

I’ve never been more uncomfortable in my entire life. My back hurts and I feel like my breasts are completely full yet seem to expand everyday and it’s becoming too much. All I do lately is take baths and lay in bed. I’m not miserable but I would definitely like this baby out of me sooner rather than later. 

“How is my wife and our child?” Aemond asks the grand maester. 

“You can ask me how I’m doing.” my words have a bite to them as I lay back on the bed as they look down at me. 

“I’m sorry, Princess. I know it’s been a long couple of moons but the babe will come soon.” the grand maester offers me what he thinks is a comforting smile. 

“Mm and how is that looking?” I look up trying not to sound so annoyed. 

“Everything looks good and from how the pregnancy has gone I believe the birthing bed will be kind to you.” the grand maester nods his head and dismisses himself from our chambers. 

“What can I do to make you feel better?” Aemond rests a hand on my stomach. 

“I just feel so tense and I want a hot bath but they won’t let me.” I say tearing up. “My back hurts and my breasts are so tender I can’t even stand having this fabric touch them. I just want some relief.” I hiccup as a tear slips down my cheek. 

“It’s just us, let me remove this.” I nod as he grabs the hem of my sleep dress and lifts it over my head. 

He moves pillows behind my back to help support me better as he helps me relax back into the bed. Tears continue to fall down my face as he helps adjust me and makes me comfortable. 

“What’s wrong?” Aemond whispers as he wipes my tears away. 

“You’re just so gentle and caring with me.” I sniffle. “I love you so much, husband.” my tears fall down faster now. 

“What else can I do to help you?” he smooths my hair looking to me with scrunched brows. 

“Lay with me, please.” I look up to him and he’s immediately getting in bed next to me. 

He holds me close to him and kisses the side of my head. His hands travel to my swollen bump and whisper words of adoration to me. His hands trail up to my tender breasts and I sigh at his soft touch. When his thumb swipes over one of my nipples a strangled whimper leaves my mouth. 

“I’m sorry.” he mumbles as he removes his hand. 

“I just need some of this milk gone.” I whine and his eye snaps to mine. 

“I can try-“ 

“Yes Aemond, anything, please.” I plead reaching for his hand. 

He brings his mouth to one of my nipples and a sigh falls from my lips. As he sucks and laps at my sensitive peak I start to feel the relief I’ve been seeking. I look down to him and see that his eye watching me. I look to him with flushed cheeks as he continues to swirl his tongue around my nipple. I push my chest up into him and he groans against me. 

“Aemond,” my voice strained as I bring my hand to his hair. 

He kisses across my chest and brings my other nipple into his mouth. He offers this one the same attention and affection. I hold him to my chest and give out soft sighs as I smooth his hair. He looks at me with a blown pupil as my breathing becomes more ragged from his tongue. He pulls back from my chest and looks down to me. 

“Thank you,” my voice breathy. 

“Anything else I can offer you?” he kisses me softly laying next to me once more. 

“I want for some relief a little lower.” he chuckles at my words. 

“Mm I wouldn’t want to leave my beautiful wife wanting.” he starts to kiss my neck as his fingers find my sensitive bud with ease. 

“Aemond,” his name falls off my lips like a prayer as he swirls his fingers. 

My legs are already beginning to tremble as I feel wetness pool between them. His fingers slide down my slit and I moan loudly. He brings more wetness back up to my throbbing bud and slowly circles it. My hips buck as much as they can as I feel my pleasure ready to burst. All it takes is his lips attached to my nipple and I’m clenching my thighs around his hand. 

“You’re so perfect. My beautiful wife carrying our child.” he showers me with compliments as my breathing settles and I begin to drift off feeling relief. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

birth 

“Fuck,” my voice breaks as the maester and midwife try to coax me to push again as I’m squeezing Aemonds hand. 

“You’re doing so good.” Aemond wipes my brow with a cool cloth. 

“And you’re doing nothing.” I grit out through my teeth as I feel myself splitting open.

“The babes head!” the midwife exclaims looking up at me. 

“One more big push Princess.” the maester says with a calm voice. 

“What do you think I’ve been fucking doing?” my breathing heavy as I push using all of my strength. 

A half sigh and chuckle leave my lips when I feel the baby slide out. I hear a cry and look down at our child. I turn to Aemond who is still looking at me with reverence at what I just did. They wrap the child in a blanket and bring it to my arms. 

“A healthy baby boy.” the maester says smiling to us. 

They help clean me up and clean up the room before leaving us. I softly caress the babes bright white hair as he stirs in my arms. Aemond holds me closer and wraps his arm around mine that’s holding our child. We sit in silence as a family and Aemond kisses our son’s brow before pulling me into a kiss of our own. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

2 months after birth

I sit in the maesters chambers with Aemond at my side and the babe bouncing on my knee. The maester looks over our son and declares he is still healthy and turns to me to ask how I’m doing. He looks over me curiously as asks how feeding is going and if there’s any tenderness and soreness. I tell him how I’ve been feeling and he looks to us with a smile. 

“I want you both to know that there is no rush,” he chuckles and I tilt my head to him. “but I believe you’re already with child again.” I turn to Aemond with a scowl who smiles proudly. 

“How sure are you?” Aemond asks fussing with our son. 

“As positive as I was the first time.” the maester nods his head and I sigh but smiling nonetheless. 

“At least you both know what to expect this time around.” he smiles as we slowly get up to exit. 

“After this next babe, I will have a break husband.” I look up to him as he holds the doors open for us. 

“Mm of course.” he looks down to me as if he has no plans on not keeping me with child anytime soon. 

⊹˚₊‧꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

masterlist 🔌 

i’ve never been preg or wrote anything like this so if i fucked anything up please reach out and let me know!! 

taglist ✍️ 

@clarityisnofun @callsignwidow @gabriella-aesthetic @llynx7 @violetiss3lfish @ka1afbr @akiko-oo @papichulo120627 @lizzylovebooks280501 @thatgirl101blog @1-fuzzy-squirrels @anaviieiraaa @zanygot7straykidsbonk @hueanhdang

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.