FUCK THIS WAS SO FUCKIN GOOD. MY HEART. Dieter, My Beloved Disaster Bi

FUCK THIS WAS SO FUCKIN GOOD. MY HEART. Dieter, my beloved disaster bi💗💜💙

𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨𝙤𝙢 || dieter bravo x camgirl!reader (part three; finale)

read 𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙩 (part one) and 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙢 (part two) first!

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || he can't believe you're really here— now he has to just try not to blow it... figuratively speaking.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 5.7k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || smut (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms/overstimulation [for reader], creampie), sex work (however dieter technically does not pay the reader for sex, just her flight to visit him c:), mentions of covid-19 pandemic, soft dieter being soft, emotions!! lots of 'em!, extremely sappy/fluffy ending (oops?)

He wasn’t sure who he was more worried would get recognized: you, or himself.

It was his idea to go out to dinner first, in fact he’d insisted on it.  Going out to dinner in times like these was a bit iffy, but thankfully the place had outdoor dining and you’d both already tested negative— for more than just the virus…

It was a beautiful evening to eat outside, but it made him even more anxious that any passerby might know him either of you from your respective works; so far, no one had said anything though.

As he watched you take a sip of your sparkling water, he realized that he hadn’t had a crush on anyone in a long, long time.  He hadn’t had sweating palms and a racing heart and a dry throat over someone since probably high school.  By the time he was in his BFA program, he was so focused on his craft that he didn’t find himself worrying much about that sort of stuff— and if he wanted to get someone into bed, it didn’t seem like much to stress over.

This was different.  This wasn’t an issue of getting you to sleep with him, although he certainly hoped you wouldn’t renege on the intentions you’d stated before— this was about getting you to like him, maybe even (as he would’ve put it back when he last had a crush) ‘like like’ him.

“Was your flight okay?” Dieter asked compulsively to fill the silence, proud of himself for thinking of something to say.

“Still good,” you nodded.  “You asked me that when we first got here.”

“Right,” he sighed, “sorry.  I forgot.”

“It’s fine,” you laughed, setting your glass down on the white tablecloth.  “I’m nervous, too.  But in a good way.”

He smiled.  “Yeah— I’m just really excited that you’re here.  And it’s still kind of weirding me out that you’re… you know, real.”

“It’s definitely trippy,” you agreed.  “When you see somebody over video chat a lot, they look sort of surreal in real life.”

“Are you… speaking from experience?” he wondered, lowering his voice a bit.

“Yeah— but not this kind of experience,” you clarified.  “I’ve never met anyone from my work before— I told you that.”

“Right, yeah— I believe you,” he assured.  “Have you ever flown overseas just to meet someone before?”

You laughed, looking down for a second.  “No, I haven’t,” you answered, “but this isn’t the first time I’ve been, you know, wined and dined by somebody…”

“Well, I figured this wasn’t your first date,” Dieter scoffed.

“No, I mean— well, yeah,” you hummed, “but I, um… before I started camming, I was actually a sugar baby.  So I’ve had my flights paid for before, is what I mean.”

He widened his eyes a little, but nodded— hoping to look more intrigued than overwhelmed.  “Oh, wow, that’s— I don’t know a lot about that, honestly…”

“I was about to ask if you’d ever had a sugar baby before,” you smirked, “guess not.”

“Yeah, no,” he shook his head, “not my— not for me.  Not before, I mean— is that what you want?”

He got a little nervous that you would only want that— a relationship built on money.  He was more than happy to drop some cash on you— he’d offered to pay for everything for you on this trip, it only seemed fair when you had to come all this way— but he got a sick feeling in his stomach imagining that that was all you wanted from him.

But then again, he just said he didn’t know a lot about it, maybe it wasn’t like that… he just felt like it was another performance, and that was the last thing he needed from anybody.

“O-oh, no— not with us,” you answered quickly, blinking a few times, and he sighed with relief.  “I mean, it was nice— it wasn’t all old guys and crazy finance douchebags like people think,” you explained with a laugh, “but it was… it was hard work, in its own way.  ‘Cause another misconception is that it’s sex in exchange for money and gifts— it’s not, not the way I did it at least.  Those guys wanted the ‘girlfriend experience’... that’s the most profitable thing, whether it’s online or in-person.”

Dieter cleared his throat; can’t blame them, I guess…

“But, you know, they didn’t have the time for a genuine relationship, so it was like giving that emotion but never receiving it,” you continued, “and that was exhausting.  Not to mention most of them had other girls involved… I’m not a jealous person, but you know, that’s obviously not what I want for myself in the end.  So I switched to camming, worked out well with the pandemic and everything…”

“I’m sure,” Dieter agreed.  “So, um… maybe this is kind of a forward question, for a first date, but… what do you want for yourself in the end?”

You seemed to get a little more shy, then.  “Well…” you began softly.  “Despite what you’ve seen me do, I’m a pretty traditional girl.  I want a serious relationship, I want a lifelong commitment, I want… a family, probably.”

It was hard not to feel a lump in his throat when you said that, even if his emotions were conflicted at best.

“I mean— that doesn’t have to be you,” you rushed out, “I’m just saying… that’s the end goal.  I have a lot of time for that, in my opinion.”

“No, right,” he agreed.  “So then, I guess the obvious question— and probably a much easier one— is what’s your goal for tonight?”

You raised an eyebrow.  “I already told you my goal for tonight.”

He swallowed thickly.  He remembered your last message before getting on the plane pretty clearly: boarding now. hopefully i can get some sleep but i’m pretty wired ngl. just thinking about getting there and jumping your bones. i want you to fuck me so hard i can’t walk (or think) straight.

“Honestly, I wouldn’t have minded at all if you just took me straight to the hotel,” you smirked, “but dinner is nice.”

“Yeah, I— I thought about it,” he admitted.  “But… can I be honest?”

“Always.”

“I wanted this to be more than just… that,” he said.  He wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to tell you, but he hoped it wouldn’t bother you too much.  Thankfully, the gentle smile creeping up your face seemed to indicate that it wasn’t particularly offensive.

“So, what do you want this to be?” you pressed.

“We can figure that out as we go,” he offered, “we should get to know each other better— for real.  But that night that we stayed up until three just talking after what was supposed to be a one-hour call—”

He saw you smile even wider as you remembered it.

“I haven’t felt close to anyone like that in—” he began, but it all stopped as the waiter suddenly appeared from thin air.

“Your tortellini, ma’am,” he said as he set your plate down in front of you, and you offered an intrigued ‘ooh’ as you examined the dish, “and your langoustines alla busara,” he finished as he set Dieter’s food down.

“Thank you,” you offered the server with a polite nod, but Dieter could only muster a hum— he was a little miffed that the guy had managed to interrupt such an important moment.

“Anything else I can get for you two?” he asked, looking back and forth.

You looked over at him to check first, before shaking your head and replying, “No, I think we’re alright.”

“Excellent,” he beamed.  “And— can I just say one thing?”

You both paused, not sure what to make of that.  “Uh, sure,” Dieter decided, since the waiter seemed to be looking at him.

“I loved you in Hunger Strike,” he said excitedly; Dieter tensed up, wanting to look at you to gauge your reaction but suddenly too afraid of what he’d find.

“Oh, thank you,” he mumbled out, “that… means a lot.”

“I mean, it really moved me,” the waiter insisted, even though Dieter just wanted this interaction to end promptly.  “You were so— I’m really not trying to intrude, but is there any way I can get your autograph?”

Then he looked at you, and he couldn’t quite read the expression on your face— amusement, maybe, with a hefty dose of discomfort as well.  You looked away and took a long sip of your drink.  “Uhh,” Dieter choked, looking back at his adoring fan, “you’ll get my autograph when you bring the check.”

Seeming to realize that he had gone too far, the young man straightened up and cleared his throat.  “Right, uh— enjoy your meal.”

Scampering away, he left the both of you behind, along with all that tension he’d created.  How come he got a escape a situation that was his own fault, and Dieter was stuck here wondering if you would be upset that he didn’t tell you who he really was— or if you’d reveal you were a crazy stalker-fan the whole time— or if knowing he was famous would change your interest in being with him (if you even had any)?

“I’m… sorry about that,” Dieter finally offered to you, and you started to smile.

“Don’t be,” you chuckled, “it was kinda funny.  Do you usually react so… badly, to that kind of thing?”

He coughed a bit.  “No, I— are you not…?  Do you know—?”

“I saw the movie, Hector, I don’t live under a rock,” you admitted.

“Oh.”  Not sure what to say next, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “What did you think of it?”

Shrugging, you answered with a simple ‘eh’.  There was a pause before he began to crack up— and then you did, too. 

“So, I’ve been worrying about all you finding out about my career for nothing?” he assumed, and you nodded.

“I didn’t recognize you right away,” you explained, “but I put it together before we planned all this.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he wondered.

“I mean, I didn’t think I needed to, really,” you shrugged again.  “It’s just your job.  I was ready to talk about it if you brought it up— if you wanted to vent about work or something— but you never did, so I figured it must not be relevant.”

“Does it… change anything between us?” he asked nervously.  “Do you feel weird about going out with a movie star?”

“Mm, I don’t know about star…” you smirked, making him laugh again— and that was the part that was the same as always.  You still made him laugh, and now that the two of you were really talking again, it felt just like that night that you talked for hours— but even better.

When the plates were cleaned and the bill was paid, the two of you walked back to his hotel— he’d picked this place in part because he could see it from his window.  But that brief walk back was one of his favorite parts of the night so far, only because he’d slipped his arm around you, and you leaned into him: in that moment, he felt more normal than he had in a long time— and yet, at the same time, special in a way he’d never felt before.

~

“I tried to clean up in here, but—”

“Isn’t there housekeeping for that?” you wondered.  

“Yeah, but… I’ve had the ‘do not disturb’ sign up for the past week,” Dieter explained.  “Didn’t want anyone to come in while we were talking…”

“Right,” you smiled, finishing your examination of the room and turning to face him again.  The door shut on its own; you were looking at him with every light in the room reflected in your eyes.

He stepped closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, and— why were his palms so clammy?  “I don’t think I’ve been this nervous to kiss someone since… since maybe my first ever kiss,” he recalled, and you laughed softly.

“Yeah, me either,” you whispered back, and he ran his hand over the curve of your hip.  “Who was your first kiss?”

“Uh, Sandy something… Brendan, I think— no, Brennan… Sandy Brennan.  We sat next to each other in History class in seventh grade,” he recalled.  “What about you?”

“I mean, unless you count a peck or two from my kindergarten boyfriend,” you chuckled, “my first real kiss wasn’t until high school— Gregory Cho.  But I wasn’t that nervous… actually, I was sort of ready to get it over with.”

“There was someone I was really nervous to kiss in high school, too,” he recalled, “but that was… different.”

“Who was it?”

That name was much easier to recall.  “Alex Brooks.”

“Was she super pretty?  Or popular?” you pressed, wondering what had him so nervous, what made it different.

“Both,” Dieter replied quickly.  “And… he was captain of the basketball team.”

You didn’t react strongly, but he still noticed it.

“Is that—?” he began to ask.

“He sounds like a real catch,” you smiled.  “Was he a good kisser?”

“Yeah,” Dieter laughed, “for a high schooler.  I guess things don’t feel as special now as they did back then— just some decent making-out in someone’s dad’s truck was the coolest thing, now it’s like— it’s all right there, you don’t have to…” he trailed off, but started a new sentence.  “I mean, even you— I’ve seen every part of you, but I just really met you for the first time.  And somehow I’m so afraid to kiss you.”

You were still smiling, but it changed, and you reached up to rest your hand on the back of his neck; it made him shiver in the best way.  “If you’re afraid, then it must still be pretty special.”

You kissed him, after all that; he would’ve felt bad for making you wait, if he wasn’t so fully engrossed in kissing you back and pulling you closer and breathing in deeply against your skin.  

For a long time, that was all it was— just one, amazing kiss.  Just his lips on yours and the gentle dance of trying to go further without going to far; just your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders as he gripped your waist through the dress.

You started to pull him across the room by his shirt— towards the bed— and broke away to speak; he tried to chase your lips for more, but stopped when you bit your lip and rested a finger on his chin.

“You haven’t seen every part of me,” you corrected him— even though he barely fucking remembered saying that after a kiss like that.  “I mean, my body, sure, but… not who I really am.”

“Then show me that,” he pleaded.  “That’s what I want— you, everything.”

You smiled wide and kissed him again, the two of you toppling onto the bed together.  

He’d been thinking about doing this since the moment he saw you: pulling up the bottom of your dress so he could pet your thighs, enamored with the smoothness of your skin.  “Baby,” he purred when he caught sight of your panties— what little there was of them.  The lace just gave him a glimpse of what was beneath, a tease of your perfect little cunt.

“God, I need you so bad,” you groaned as you pulled him down for another kiss; he’d been hard since you wrapped your arms around him, and he could swear he was already throbbing by the time he rocked his hips against yours.  “Fuck— feels even bigger than it looked…”

“Maybe your computer screen wasn’t big enough,” he joked, making you laugh lightly before another moan came out when he rocked down on you again.  “What do you want, beautiful?”

“You… you know what I want…” you panted, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Humor me,” he encouraged, moving in to kiss your neck— and loving the way you squirmed under him.

“Want— want you to fuck me,” you whimpered, “want you to make me— fuck— yours…”

He groaned deeply as he rutted his hips into yours harder, finally taunting you to the point that you had to reach down and start opening his pants.  “So eager,” he mocked playfully, as if he wasn’t going to ravage you the second you were done getting his cock out.

In fact, he almost tore your dress as he pulled it down to expose your chest, barely finding the time to appreciate the view of your tits before latching his mouth onto them.  “Oh fuck,” you gasped, and he smiled around the pert nipple in his mouth; these had seemed sensitive from the way you toyed with them as you touched yourself, but it was heaven on earth to confirm his suspicion himself.

“Want me to make you mine?” he prompted again, voice muffled by your delicate skin in his mouth, and you whimpered as you nodded.

“Yes— please—” you begged.

“Not sure I can do that,” he warned, and you gave him a confused look.  “You’re already mine, you told me yourself.”

You giggled, arching your back slightly as the tip of his tongue drew circles on you.  "I did say that, didn't I?"

"Mhm," he confirmed.  "Hard to forget."

"Well, m'still yours," you offered, "but I need you right now, I'll do— fuck, anything, just—"

"You don't need to do anything," he assured, looking up at you as he moved his mouth from your breast down a little lower, "just lay back and I'm gonna take care of you."

You bit your lip and nodded.

"Second I saw you I wanted to kiss you all over," he sighed.

"Well, I've got a couple ideas of where you can start," you smirked.

And yes, he would love to start there, but he needed to do his best not to rush this.  So, smiling up at you first, he began his journey.  His lips and tongue explored your body on his way down: a kiss here, a lick there, a playful bite when he felt extra naughty.  "You're so fucking beautiful," he mumbled against you.

"Yeah?  You too," you sighed.

He didn't think of himself like that— handsome, maybe, certainly aware of his better angles, but beautiful felt strange.  But he liked it, especially when you said it.  Especially when you said it while he was slotting his face between your legs.

It was even prettier up close, and the smell was fucking intoxicating: tangy and musky and sweet, heady, earthy, human.  And he knew you'd taste even better.

So he dove right in.  Maybe he should've started with your clit, that would've been the obvious choice, but his instincts led him to just slide his tongue right into your hole.  If nothing else, it certainly seemed to take you off guard, and you gasped as you grabbed onto his hair with both hands.

"Baby, fuck, that's— oh god, you can't imagine how many times I thought of this," you admitted, breathing heavy already.  He smiled against you, then gave you one big lick from the furthest down his tongue could reach all the way to the very top— all while holding fierce eye contact with you.  "Fu-uuuuck," you choked, dropping your head back just as your eyes rolled up.  "That's so… just do that again, please…"

He did it a few more times, noticing the way you seemed to get more impatient with each one, until your hips were chasing after his tongue.  "Stay still, baby, don't you trust me to do this right?" he purred, holding tighter on your hips.

"Yeah, I just— been so long," you whimpered.

He just did his best to find what made you scream the loudest and keep doing that— you were so sensitive, he just had to press his tongue down flat on your clit and move it in circles and you’d start shaking and sobbing and begging.  He moaned into you every time you tugged on his hair, having to rock his hips against the bed to appease his attention-deprived cock.

"You're… so amazing," you panted, "I— fuck! Oh god, I can't remember the last time someone—"

You never finished your thought, because he started fucking you with his tongue and you were too busy moaning his name, but he couldn't believe what a waste it was that nobody was eating this pussy on a regular basis.

"Gonna— oh fuck, yes, gonna come," you warned, "I… I'm gonna come so fucking hard…"

You started shaking, and he started fighting to keep you as still as he could so his work wouldn't be interrupted.  For a second he wondered if you were already coming or not— but then you made this noise, and your cunt clamped down on his tongue, and you cried out his name; it was perfect, it was the most beautiful moment he could ever imagine.

When it became too much, you went from tugging his hair to pushing him away with it, and he grinned up at you with a breathy laugh.  “Fuck, baby,” you whimpered, and he saw the tear streaks on your temples and cheeks.  He traced one with his thumb before kissing you again— deep and hungry, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

He hummed when your hands reached down to work on getting his pants off— eager and shaky, he certainly related to that.  As soon as your hand wrapped around his cock, he moaned, just from that.  He was almost embarrassed about it, until you bit his lip in playful encouragement.  "Does that feel good?" you purred.

"Yeah— your hands are better than mine," he laughed breathlessly.  

"How about this?" you raised an eyebrow, swiping your thumb over his slit, and he groaned as he rocked into your touch.

"God, baby…" he groaned.  As good as it felt, he found the strength to grab you by both your wrists and pin them down by your head.  You grinned, struggling just a bit, and moaned as he slid his cock against your soaking pussy.

“Don’t tease me,” you begged, “feels like I’ve been waiting forever.”

But he wasn’t teasing you— he was psyching himself up.

Believe it or not, he actually felt pretty nervous about this part.  Not for a lack of experience— for the entirely opposite reason.  Dieter had been with a lot of people, and for the most part, it was all… the same.  It all blended together— he only remembered those people from when he was a kid because he was a kid, and his romantic encounters were so few and far between.  He could remember details of his various partners from the last few years— Crystal who had a clit piercing, Marvin who begged to be choked, Cameron who seemed to enjoy giving him a blowjob even more than he enjoyed receiving it— but this, the actual sex, it was generally pretty interchangeable.  

So, he was worried that after all that build-up, after all the yearning and fantasizing and talking, that this would be the end of it being special— and you would just turn into a hook-up with a slightly more interesting backstory than the rest.  

As valid as that fear was, it was far from enough to stop him now, not when you were looking up at him and tightening your fists as he kept you pinned and silently begging for him with your eyes.

He had to let go of one of your hands to guide himself inside, but he interlaced the other with your fingers while he did it— and then, with one strong push, he was fully within you.

“Oh my god,” he gasped, “you feel… different.”

You raised an eyebrow, chuckling a little.  “Uh, different than what?”

Than everyone else.  “I— I don’t know,” he breathed, “I’m not making sense.”

“Not really,” you agreed with a laugh.

“Hard to think straight right now,” he defended.

It wasn’t just that you felt different— it was that this felt different: being with someone he really cared about, that he wanted to impress, that he wanted to see after this was over.

Someone that he never wanted to let go of.

“You feel so fucking perfect,” you whimpered, “fuck, don’t stop— feels so good—”

One of the benefits of making you come on his tongue first was that he knew it wouldn't be that bad if he didn't last too long now— though that wasn't why he did it.  In fact, this was rarely his issue, if anything sometimes he struggled to finish for unclear reasons.

But even if he could get away with finishing quickly, he wanted to make this last as long as he could.  He never wanted this to end, actually.

As he found his pace— not too speedy yet, but with a bit of his eagerness showing— he kissed you again, deeply and hungrily.  He wondered if he'd ever done this before: kissing during sex.  He felt like he probably had, and yet he couldn't remember it— maybe that said more than anything.

This, on the other hand, was very memorable.  He slid his arms under you when your back arched, he held you tight and close and drank in every one of your moans through that kiss.

For how many times he’d pictured fucking you, he never really imagined it like this… and he thought he’d imagined it every way before.  But he realized that he’d mostly imagined it a bit kinker— you riding him, or him fucking you while you were bent over the table in his room, or 69’ing or something.  This was passionate, and sorta slow; this was his hips grinding on yours with every thrust so he could keep rubbing your sore clit; this was making love, he realized— if it wasn’t, he couldn’t imagine what was.

“I— fuck, baby— think I’m gonna come again,” you warned him with the most beautiful whiny sob.

“Fuck, already?” he smiled, and you nodded feverishly.  

“Just… don’t stop, please, just like that— fuuuuck!” you choked, and he gasped every time your walls clenched down on him.

“You’re so fucking perfect, fuck,” he grunted, moving a bit faster and not letting up on the pressure from his pubic bone on your clit, even when you actually screamed under him.  “You’re so amazing, oh god, I—”

He heard it before he said it: I think I love you.  He stopped himself before blurting it out— maybe he’d tell you after, but he wasn’t so far gone to forget that this wasn’t the right time.  You’d think he didn’t really mean it, that it was just the delirium talking from how incredible you felt, but he knew it was so much more than that.

He shut himself up by kissing your neck— not too hard, but plenty to leave a mark, and make you squirm in the process.  Your hands wrapped around his back and your nails dug into his skin, but he couldn’t even feel the pain of it, he couldn’t feel anything but the sticky, resplendent heat of your body.

“So much fucking better than the goddamn dildos,” you said suddenly, and he laughed against your skin.  

“Do you miss all those people watching you come?” he wondered.

“No, fuck no,” you panted, “there’s nobody else but you.”

He couldn’t help but fuck you faster when you said that— you should’ve known better than to stroke his ego that way.

“Fuck!” you sobbed.  “Hector, baby, you’re so— oh god, I don’t know if I can take it—”

“Shh, you can,” he promised, “you can do anything, you can come for me again—”

“Oh fuck, I— I might,” you admitted shakily, “but then I’ll— I’ll fucking pass out or something.”

“No, you’ll be okay,” he promised, cooing at you softly.  “You’ll be so good for me, I know you will— just come for me one more time, baby, tell me what you need to come again.”

“I… just a little time is all I need,” you answered, voice breaking.  “I swear I’ve never— I’m not usually so— fuck, it’s just you—”

“I know,” he assured, loving the way you babbled praises but worried it would distract you from coming again; and if you didn’t soon, there wouldn’t be time before he lost it.  He was already barely able to keep his composure just from how beautiful you looked like this, let alone how you felt.  “I know, just let it happen, I know it’s right there for me— just come for me, beautiful—”

You dragged him down into a sloppy kiss, and he felt it— those incredible pulses inside you, waves of slick coating him until he felt sticky all the way down his thighs; your sobs were more precious than anything he’d ever heard.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he praised, fucking you even faster now as your head fell back limply.  “I can’t h-hold back anymore, I need to—”

“I know,” you said to him this time, “it’s okay, please— want you to…”

“You still— oh my god…” he choked, losing his train of thought for a moment.  “You still want me to come inside you?  Wanna be full?”

“Yes,” you whined, “yes, baby, please— wanna be so full of your come, I want everything—”

"Fuck, okay," he agreed, gasping as he tried to keep up his pace despite the growing pressure inside.  "I'm really fucking close…”

“I’m yours,” you told him again— and then he went from ‘really fucking close’ to ‘already fucking there’.  He came inside you with a long, whimpered groan; his head dropped onto your shoulder while each pump filled you, trying to catch his breath but feeling like he’d never find it again.

Admitting he loved you during sex wasn’t a good idea, but saying it immediately after wasn’t that much of an improvement.  Now, though, he was too exhausted to keep his mouth shut.  “I think I love you,” he blurted out suddenly.

For one incredibly long second, you didn’t react at all.  You looked up at him, and he hesitated to even look back because he didn’t want to see anything less than ecstasy on your face.  “Oh,” you said, “cool.”

He wasn’t sure what reaction he anticipated, good or bad, but it wasn’t that.

“Let me know when you know,” you suggested.

“No!  No— I know,” he insisted, reaching up to hold your face, “I know.  I love you.  I think I did even before you came here, but… it just seemed so crazy.  We don’t know each other as well as we should for that, right?  But I feel it— I feel something that I just can’t explain—”

“Hey, slow down,” you laughed, “I feel it too.”

The way you smiled at him, resting your hand on his chest— was he glowing?  He felt like he was actually glowing.  “Good,” he decided.

“Let’s get to know each other better, then,” you announced.  “Start from the beginning, the whole thing: parents, siblings, school, favorite movies, worst dates, hot dogs or hamburgers—”

“No, you start,” he pouted, “you’re more interesting.”

“Me?  Please, I’m just your average camgirl titty streamer, don’t worry about it,” you scoffed.

“And I’m just some lame old Oscar winner,” he shrugged.

But both of you talked— all night, actually.  You never fell asleep, he was never even that tired— you kept him so full of energy he didn’t even notice how long it had been until the sun started to come up.  And then you kept talking at breakfast.  And then you fucked again, and talked some more after; he knew it had to end, eventually, but he didn’t even want to think about it.  He didn’t want to think about you going home and letting something so perfect end.

He told you just as much on the last night— assuming you didn’t switch your flight home to a later day again.  You’d just been laying in his arms after another bout of passionately desperate fucking, both of you half-asleep but not wanting the separation of even just unconsciousness, and he blurted it out.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded under his breath.  “I don’t want you to go.”

“I know you don’t,” you returned softly.  

“I don’t want this to end.”

You were quiet for a while, turning over on your side to face him, tracing your fingers over his chest gently.  “It doesn’t have to end, just because I leave,” you mumbled.  “I know it’s crazy, but we can be together, even if we’re not… together.  I mean, I’m certainly not gonna be with anybody else—”

“Me either,” he said quickly, before he could change his own mind with the doubts— the voice in his head that said he could never settle down because he’s too fucked up.  “I only want you.”

“It’ll suck, being far away from each other— but you’ll be back Stateside eventually, right?” you assumed.

“God, I hope so,” he sighed, “if the world doesn’t end.”

“If it does,” you whispered, moving in closer, “I hope it’s tonight.  I wouldn’t wanna be anywhere else but here.”

It was a romantic thought, but as he kissed you, he realized he’d never wanted the world to end less than he did right now.  He never longed for an apocalypse or anything, even on nights that his doubts and anxieties made him yearn for oblivion just for himself, but just now he could’ve cried thinking about everything falling apart tonight.  Whether it be by fiery explosion or a quiet, instant disappearance, he couldn’t let armageddon happen now— now that he had you.  For the first time, he saw himself having a future, in a way he never had before.  Existing as a ‘celebrity’ meant being on the edge of irrelevance at any moment, knowing this could all go away overnight and you’d just be ‘that guy who was in that thing that one time’.  

But this time, he stood on a precipice of something wonderful, of something natural, and it was the most beautifully terrifying unknown.  It was tomorrow.  Tomorrow, you’d get on the plane; tomorrow, you’d leave, because the world wasn’t going to end tonight.  But his life was going to start tonight, and he didn’t have to face it alone anymore.

𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - Steven Grant

this has been sitting in my drafts for months, but i finally got the motivation to finish it lmao. Happy Thanksgiving for those who celebrate! Gobble gobble bitches🦃

Warnings: mentions of The Blip, implied PTSD, a slight sprinkle of angst, and fluff. that's it, I think

word count | 4.3K🤙🏻

You never took the bus. In all your years of living in London, you had only ridden the bus a handful of times. You usually ride your bike most places, especially to work. Eco friendly, your friend called it, not that you really cared. But it just so happens, that your bike was stolen. So, your hand was forced.

You worked at a bookstore, and you liked it well enough. After being Blipped for five years, your parents decided to give you their store, they were getting old and couldn’t take care of it as much as they could before; plus, they thought it would make you happy and get your mind off being dusted out of existence for so long. And it did, to a certain extent. You were happy surrounded by books, but all the years you missed out on was still nagging at the back of your mind. Your therapist said it would get better with time. But other than the feeling that something horrific could happen at any given moment constantly plaguing your mind, you were content with life; but there was one thing still missing.

You weren’t the best at dating, never had been. Every time you thought you found “the one” or just a genuinely good person, they’d come with a serious hamartia that they were hiding, one that you usually would find out a good couple months into a relationship. But then again, you were also very picky as your parents would say, but you just had standards. You’d think living in such a big city would give you a few good options at least. But alas, you were probably doomed to live the rest of your life in solitude.

You didn’t really notice at first, often stuck in your own little world, but you finally realized that you saw the same man on your bus almost every day on your way to work. It wasn’t that big of a deal, if only he wasn’t so handsome. You never considered yourself to be much of a shallow person, knowing that personality is what really counts, but you couldn’t help yourself to gawk when this man wasn’t looking. Maybe it was his shy and disheveled demeanor that intrigued you, or maybe it was that you were being so utterly vain that his strong jawline and dark brown eyes awakened some primal force within you that drew you to him. But considering how horrid you are at making the first move, you’d never know.

Your silly little crush didn’t go away. It didn’t help that your bookstore was right across the street from the museum he worked at. You felt like a stalker, knowing where he worked and eventually learning his name when he forgot to take his name tag off one night. Steven. It suited him. You thought about visiting the museum once, but that would definitely be stalkerish behavior, but anyone was allowed into museums, right? It wouldn’t be weird if he were to visit your bookshop. Then again, if some dude were staring at you every time you got onto the bus and suddenly paid a visit, you would probably call 999. 

Yeah, you decided against it.

It wasn’t until one early morning that forced you to confront this crush. Steven entered the bus with dark circles under his eyes, more pronounced than usual. He looked like he could’ve fallen over any given moment, he looked like he hadn’t slept in ages. You tried not to tense up when he took a seat next to you, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. You prayed you could act like a normal human being until the bus ride was over. But then, almost half way to work, he did something you never would’ve expected. He leaned his head on your shoulder.

Your eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets. It only took a couple seconds to realize that he didn’t do it on purpose, poor thing fell asleep and his head naturally lolled to the side, where your shoulder just so happened to be. You had no idea what to do. Do you wake him up? He’s just a stranger, this is weird and he definitely should not be doing this. But he looked so peaceful, and he did look like he had gotten absolutely no sleep. But would he think it would be weird if he knew you just let him sleep on you? You hoped no one else could see how panicked you looked.

You felt your face heat up as you ultimately decided to let the exhausted man remain situated against your shoulder, the bus ride was almost over anyway. You felt your nails dig into your palms, trying to focus on anything but the warm feeling that radiated throughout your body. As the bus rolled to a stop, you gently nudged the sleeping man until he sat straight up with wide eyes, clearly disoriented. He looked at you in confusion before uttering a quick apology before he made his quick escape from the awkward situation. You didn’t blame him, but you did feel a little embarrassed yourself, even though you probably had no reason to be.

You thought about that bus ride all day, your brain fogged over and distracted from your work, the bells that sounded off any time someone would enter the store being the only reality check that would snap you back from your racing mind. A part of you just wanted to buy another bike, never take the bus ever again, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to afford it, not now at least. Maybe you could just walk all the miles back to your flat…in the dark…without the proper means to protect yourself…yeah, awkward situations were more appealing than the threat of getting jumped in an alleyway.

You hoped Steven wouldn’t be on the nightly bus ride home like he usually was, only occasionally he would work late, but that just wasn’t in the works for you. How lucky. Apparently it was a busy night, people coming and going, it was a Friday to be fair. But there were no empty seats as he boarded the bus, being the last person, only one was empty, one next to you. You felt like a regular old Mary Sue. And you could tell by his expression that he was panicked, clearly not forgetting what happened that morning.

You wore a tight lipped smile as he walked towards you, the bus suddenly moving jolting him a bit forwards with a stumble, but he quickly tried to brush it off with suave. “Uh, is this seat taken?” The man asked timidly, his hand slightly shaking as he pointed to the spot next to you.

Obviously not. “No, go ahead.” You smiled, more genuinely that time, feeling that familiar heat rise up to your face as he settled next to you.

“Cheers.” He nervously smiled back, hugging his satchel close to his chest.

You couldn’t help but smirk as you noticed his eyes already started to droop shut, the man wearing exhaustion like it was second nature. It also made you a little sad. “Hope you get some sleep tonight, maybe you won’t fall asleep on me again in the morning.” You chuckled, not being able to resist teasing him slightly.

“Oh, goodness.” The man cringed at himself, turning to face you with a guilty expression. “I’m so sorry about that, miss. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay!” You cut him off with a giggle. “You don’t have to apologize, I get it. I’m not a morning person either. Sorry if me not waking you up right away was weird, I just didn’t have the heart to when you looked so tired.” If you weren’t blushing already, you most certainly were now.

“Ah, it’s not weird. I appreciate it actually. Your shoulder was very comfortable.”

“Jeez, how awful is your bed if you think this boney shoulder is anywhere close to being comfortable?” You laughed softly, a shy smile stretching across his face. “I’m Y/n, by the way. Thought you should know considering I already know yours.” You gently flicked the name tag that was still pinned to his jacket. “Nice to meet you, Steven.”

The next morning you were greeted with Steven’s smiling face, that nervousness behind it making it more endearing. You didn’t hesitate to take a seat next to him, feeling more confident now that you’ve actually had a conversation with the man. So far, he seemed sweet, shy but sweet. He definitely seemed worth your interest, you wanted to get to know him. Hopefully he felt the same.

“A gift shop-ist? I don’t think that’s a word.” You chuckled. “Why not just a salesperson?”

Steven shrugged. “Doesn’t sound that much more appealing, now, does it? Well, what do you do? Where do you work?”

“I own the bookstore right across the street from the museum. So, I guess that makes me a bookstore-ist.” You giggled at your own joke, Steven letting out a small amused snort making you feel better about it.

“Oh, a bookworm, are you?”

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve always liked reading. The store was my parents, but they passed the baton over to me. I like it.”

“Huh, I’ll have to check it out sometime.”

“And I’ll have to check out the museum. Don’t know much about Egyptian history, but maybe you’ll be my tour guide?”

“If my boss doesn’t get on my arse about it. Well, eh, it doesn't matter. I’ll be happy to take time out of my super busy schedule to teach you all about all the pharaohs and gods and anything else that won’t bore you to death.” He grinned.

“Well, with you teaching me I’m sure I’ll never get bored.” You were thankful the bus finally arrived, the somewhat intense eye contact the two of you shared was getting a bit much for you to handle. “Well, see you later!” You waved as you started to walk to your workplace, Steven replying with a cute little “laters gators.”

It didn’t take too long before you and Steven got close, well, you thought so anyway. The two of you would always sit or stand next to each other on the bus each morning and night. Sometimes, you’d even visit each other’s place of work. You learned each other’s coffee orders, so you’d sometimes surprise each other with coffee. The first time you did it, Steven wore the cutest flustered expression on his face. So far, you two were friendly. Just friendly. You knew you wanted more, you just didn’t know if he felt the same, or even how to bring it up. You’d been out of the game for so long you didn’t even think you remembered how to kiss a person. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself or get rejected, you didn’t know if you could handle that.

Talking to your sibling about it, they just told you to get over the stupid fear and just ask the man out. Of course, it was easy for them to say, they were more outgoing and fearless. For once, you wish you could’ve turned off your introvertedness and anxiety. You got good vibes from Steven, he seemed perfect. Too perfect. And your track record showed that perfect meant they were less than perfect. You were a bit of a pessimist, you hated that about yourself, but it’s probably what had saved you from one too many toxic relationships. On the surface, Steven looked like he’d never even hurt a fly. You wondered what was underneath that timid exterior. But maybe there wasn’t, only time would tell.

It was a cold dreary morning when your feelings started to spiral out of control. You seemed to wake up on the wrong side of the bed, feeling sour for no particular reason. Just one of those days, you supposed. You had trouble hiding your mood on your face, Steven seemed to notice it immediately as soon as you boarded the bus. He had asked you what was the matter, but you just brushed him off by saying the weather dampened your spirit. Later, he had brought you a hot cup of coffee on his break, saying that days like these needed some warmth, which in turn made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. You encouraged him to look around, knowing that he enjoyed reading as well. It was hard to concentrate on working when he was walking about with an awestruck expression, gently running his fingers over the spines of the various books that lined the shelves. “Do you have any books about Egypt?” Steven called out from across the room.

“Yeah, some. On aisle 6, along with other history books.” You pointed out, smiling to yourself as Steven walked to the designated aisle with a skip in his step. He asked about a specific author, wondering if their new book was in stock, clearly anxious to read it. “No, sorry.” You frowned sympathetically after looking it up in inventory. “I can see if it’s available somewhere else?”

Steven shook his head. “That’s alright. Wouldn’t expect it to be anywhere, the author isn't very well known and there's probably not many copies out there. But thanks for looking.”

And that’s when you got the idea. You weren’t good with words, but you loved buying people gifts. When the holidays rolled around, you were an expert at gift giving, you pride yourself on it. Maybe you could express your feelings by buying him this book he wanted so much. It was a bit pricey, being scarce and all, but you could afford it and you wanted to see the smile on Steven’s face, if just for a moment. Before you could think about it any longer, you clicked the purchase button.

And oh man, was it a long anxious wait for the book to arrive. You had to order it from a different country, so obviously it was going to take a while. But you were impatient, and you counted the seconds until you heard the sweet shrill sound of your doorbell ringing, excitement bubbling up in your chest as you opened the door to find the package exactly where you expected to find it. You hoped Steven would be as happy as you were, and you didn’t even want the book for yourself.

You were disappointed when you didn’t see Steven on the bus the next morning. He probably just slept in again. You were so anxious to give the book to him, but then you didn’t see him all day, which was unusual. He usually paid you a visit at least once on his break. Then another day went by…then another. A whole week passed and you started to get worried. He wouldn’t answer your texts or calls, you even went to his work to ask for him but he hadn’t been in. You never pegged him as someone who would just up and disappear. But then again, how could you know that? You were practically just coffee buddies. Guess you got the book for nothing…

It was another week before Steven started showing up again, but you made a point not to even make eye contact with him, not even when he greeted you warmly as he sat next to you like nothing ever happened. From the corner of your eye, you could see his downcast and confused expression and you almost took pity on him. Almost. You probably should’ve seen it coming, there was always some fatal flaw about most people, your blinding crush on Steven made you forget. It was probably for the best, you only would’ve gotten hurt. Terrible timing though, you were at a point where you really needed a friend to talk to.

That constant feeling that something bad was going to happen at any given moment was proved correct. Thankfully, it wasn’t half the universe getting blipped out of existence, but it was almost just as mysterious and frightening. One night, the sky completely changed. It looked like a Van Goph painting, but instead of it making you feel a sense of peace and comfort like viewing the painting normally did, it terrified you. Seeing the sky warp out of focus, it brought on some severe panic attacks. What did this mean? What was happening and what consequences would it have on the world? It plagued your mind. But even after getting Blipped, you never really talked about it with anyone, not even your family. You just kept all these feelings bottled inside, not wanting to burden anyone with your problems. With every new supernatural phenomena, you felt all these feelings begging to come to the surface. You couldn’t have that, you had responsibilities. But with Steven...he seemed like the type of person that you could actually talk to, if it weren’t for him ghosting you. You’d just have to keep it all inside a bit longer.

Stepping off the bus without a word to Steven made you feel hollow, cold without the coffee he usually would bring you as you both make jokes and bitched about the morning weather typically being foggy and/or rainy. It was one of those mornings, and it just made you feel worse. It was also a slow day, barely anyone coming into your store which was unusual, especially on a rainy day. You felt sluggish, not interacting with anyone made you feel like a lifeless zombie. You just wanted a customer, just one. But as soon as Steven walked in, you immediately regretted that sentiment.

You could instantly sense Steven’s nervousness as he walked up to your counter, hands fidgeting with one another and keeping his gaze fixed anywhere but you. “Hiya.” He spoke softly, an unconvincing smile on his lips.

“How can I help you today, sir?” Your bluntness made him blink in shock, obviously not expecting you to be so cold. You were being petty and you hated it, but you couldn’t help yourself. It was an annoying habit to be passive aggressive, and seeing the deepening frown on Steven’s face just made you feel worse.

He sighed. “Look, I-” He stuttered, “I know you’re probably wondering why I disappeared. And I know you might be upset-”

“Might?” You scoffed, biting your lip, trying not to let your emotions get the better of you. “We talked every day, Steven. And then all of a sudden, you’re gone. Without a word or reason why. So, yeah, sorry if I can’t help being a bit upset.” You chuckled bitterly, sighing sadly when you saw him shrinking away from your words. “And…I was worried. I thought that, I guess that I’d never see you again.”

“You were really worried? About me?”

“I mean, yeah. You’re, like, my only friend.” You blushed.

“Oh, wow, really?” He chuckled in disbelief.

“What?”

“Nothing, it’s just…man, you could do so much better than me. I’m just this ball of anxiety. I don’t know how being friends with someone like me could be very nice.”

You frowned, saddened by his lack of self confidence. “Come on, Steven. Don’t be so hard on yourself. But you did seriously worry me. Where did you go? What even happened?” Steven looked up at you with wide eyes, fidgeting with the ends of his jacket. He looked like he was having a conversation with himself, his gaze becoming blank and unfocused, then looking back at you like he had forgotten you were even standing there. It didn’t make you hopeful that you were going to get an answer, and the realization made you deflate with a sigh. “You’re not gonna tell me.” You stated.

Steven gave you a sympathetic frown, his eyes already pleading for forgiveness without having to say anything. “I would, truly, I would. But I’m sorry, I can’t. It’s…complicated.”

You shook your head, trying to ignore your throat tightening and your already stinging eyes. You wore a tight lipped smile, taking a deep breath and meeting his gaze once more. “You don’t have to apologize. You don’t owe me anything, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” You chuckled bitterly, quietly excusing yourself to the bathroom before Steven had a chance to say anything else.

You hated crying, for any reason; and you especially didn’t like crying because of someone else, it wasn’t worth it. But you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing as soon as you closed and locked the door to the store’s bathroom. You covered your mouth to muffle the inevitably whimpers and squeaks that escaped your lips. You prayed that Steven couldn’t hear you, if he was even still in the store. Probably not, you felt like you must’ve scared him off. But to your surprise, you froze in place when you saw him still at your register. You quickly noticed the item in his hands and your heart felt like it was going to implode.

Neatly wrapped in Egyptian themed wrapping paper, a sandy white texture decorated with gold hieroglyphics with a simple post-it note on top that read ‘Steven’, the book that you went through hell to get for the man but never ended up giving to him. A desperate attempt to get him to realize your growing feelings for him. The gesture felt silly now, you certainly felt silly as Steven looked at you expectantly. “Sorry, it’s just…it had my name on it.” He explained with a slight stutter. You cursed yourself for not just leaving it at home where it would be safe from prying eyes. Maybe you should’ve chosen a more subtle paper so that it wouldn’t stand out as much as the gold. “I didn’t want to open it without your permission.” Ever the gentleman, huh?

Despite not being in the friendliest mood and still recovering from your quick cry in the bathroom, you shrugged and motioned for him to go ahead and open it. If only he hadn’t found it, then you could’ve just given it away or something and never have to think about it again. That would’ve been easier.

You waited with bated breath as Steven gently unwrapped the gift, careful not to tear the paper too much, as if it cost more than seven pounds. You almost didn’t want to look at him as the actual book started to peek through, the title flashing in white bold font smack dab in the center of the cover. It was only when the wrapping paper was completely off did you steal a glance at Steven’s face.

Your heart pounded as Steven's face immediately lit up with pure happiness, a wide grin spreading across his face and his bright eyes glancing back and forth between you and the book. "It's the book I wanted..." He said in disbelief. "You...bought this for me?" He stuttered.

You shrugged. "Yeah, who else would it be for? There's no one else I know obsessed with Egyptian history."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

There was a deafening silence for a moment where Steven just looked at you with an expression you could only describe as awe, like you just hung the moon and stars and how lucky he must've been to be in your presence. But of course, your insecurities told you that wasn't the case, it would never be that case.

"Thank you..." He whispered, so softly you had to strain to hear it. "This means a lot to me, really. I'll pay you back."

"No." You said immediately. "No, Steven. It was a gift. I didn't get this for you and expected anything in return."

Steven sighed, placing the book down gently on the counter, taking a step closer to you. "Look, I-...I'm not good at not being my awkward self, especially in front of such a beautiful person. I never wanted you to be angry with me. I have a lot of secrets, and I know that doesn't sound like the type of person you'd want to spend your time with. But if you let me...I'd love to take you out. And maybe we could get close enough where I can tell you all those secrets. But I understand if you never wanna talk to me again..."

You were blushing fiercely, your cheeks heating up you could practically feel your blood boiling just beneath your skin. You never expected Steven to be so bold, even though it didn't exactly sound that bold with his stuttering and slight waver in his voice. But it flustered you all the same. You rarely ever met someone and wanted to know all their secrets, but he made it sound so alluring. Tantalizing, like learning more and more about him was some incredible journey you had the opportunity to venture on. Him disappearing for a while and not telling you why was one thing, but you could sense another red flag in that speech of his somewhere. But the way he was looking at you, his pleading eyes, those big brown enchanting eyes that you wanted to get lost in. You didn't have the heart to say anything but yes.

"You really want to go out with me?" You voiced almost breathlessly.

Steven smiled wide. "Of course I do, darling. Since the first time we had a conversation, you made me feel like I could have something in my life other than chaos. You made...you make me feel at peace."

You chuckled bashfully, practically putty in his hands already. "How chaotic could the life of a gift shop-ist be?"

"Go out on a date with me and I'll tell you. What do you say?"

"Yes." You smiled. "I say yes."

jeez, finally took a break from posting only smut lmao. i miss steven, my baby boy🥺

𝐀𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 - Aemond Targaryen

third and last part to this mini series. i didn't think i'd make a part two but it came to me in a dream and i couldn't ignore my dreams, also peer pressure but that doesn't matter haha...anyway *cough* also, this last part came to me at like 3 am so

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), (TW) suicide attempt, attempted sexual assault, Stockholm syndrome, heavy angst, kinda Dark!Aemond (he gets better tho cause i couldn't help myself), incest, mild dubcon, oral (f!receiving), romantic-ish love making, fluff ughhh (this fic makes a complete 180 i'm sorry)

word count | 6k🤙🏻😅

part one | part two

You had never felt more hopeless in your entire life.

You had been pretty resilient throughout your time at King’s Landing, but it slowly dwindled the longer you were forced to stay.

The Greens chipped away at your strength piece by piece until there was barely anything left. You had been forced to stay in your designated chambers, no one allowed in or out besides the maids and guards. You couldn’t count how long it had been since you had seen a friendly face. You were completely alone. You hadn’t even seen your uncle since that night he forced himself on you, you wondered if he got punished for it. Probably not. You hated that you started to actually miss him. 

You just wanted to talk to somebody, anybody. You couldn’t just keep staying at the walls all day every day. You even started to wonder how badly it would hurt to throw yourself off your balcony. Would you die before you even hit the ground? Or worse, would you survive the fall?

You had woken up from a nightmare in a cold sweat one morning, shivering and aching all over. You didn’t get out of bed until your mouth started flooding with saliva, a sinking feeling washing over you as you felt your stomach lurch. You barely made it to your chamber pot before emptying the contents of your stomach, bile burning the back of your throat and tears streaming down your face. Spots blurred your vision as you slumped against the wall, leaning your head back as you closed your eye. You tried not to wince as your abdomen tensed painfully, another wave of nausea washing over you. You felt like you had been hit by a dragon, aches and pains all over your body including your empty eye socket. Perhaps the Stranger was finally coming to take you away? Would you be okay with that? Is death really better than being imprisoned?

Unfortunately, you weren’t able to find out. One of the maids that made your baths came in as you started to fall unconscious, but that darkness never took you as she slashed some cold water on your face, making you gasp awake. “You are burning up, my Lady.” The maid spoke softly. “Oh dear, you’ve vomited.”

“Clearly.” You mumbled incoherently.

“How long since you’ve last bled, my Lady?”

Your heart threatened to beat out of your chest for a moment, the thought immediately making you panic. But it hadn’t been that long ago. Sure, it was before Aemond had taken your virginity, but that didn’t automatically mean his seed had taken. “Almost two weeks ago.”

“I shall call for the maester.” The maid helped you to your bed, propping you up onto your pillows and leaving promptly.

No, you weren’t pregnant. You would know, wouldn’t you? Surely, women have a sort of sixth sense about that kind of stuff, right? You could only wait for the maester to tell you. But what would happen if you actually were? Would Alicent marry you and Aemond? The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

A gentle breeze blew in from the balcony. You often kept the doors open as the cool night air helped you fall asleep faster. The idea of escaping this life got more and more appealing as you kept thinking about what would happen if you were carrying a babe. A life such as this is no place to raise a baby, especially not with an enemy of your mother. You made your decision.

You cried out as you stood up from your bed, limping your way to your balcony with wobbly feet. You accidentally hit the wall on your left side, still having great difficulty adjusting to your new eyesight. But it would not matter soon enough. With shaking hands, you held onto the railing of your balcony, looking down on all your mother’s subjects. The sun was barely peeking out from the horizon, casting the kingdom in a light orange glow. King’s Landing was beautiful, truly. It would’ve made a nice home had your mother’s crown hadn’t been stolen. You could imagine your family’s dragons flying freely over the rooftops and towers of the Red Keep, your brothers smiling and laughing with each other, your parents ruling peacefully. Yeah, it would’ve been amazing.

You let out a sob as you heard your dragon’s roars pierce through the air, feeling your sorrow and despair like it was their own. You hoped nothing bad would happen to your dragon. Perhaps they’d get a new rider after you were gone. Maybe the Greens would set them free, let the creature grieve in peace away from the war. Doubtful. The thought almost made you back away from the rail, but you couldn’t handle it anymore. All your life you had been selfless, this one moment would be one of the only times you could allow yourself to be selfish. It would make things easier for your mother. Without the threat of you being killed by the Greens, she could finally torch everyone inside the Red Keep with her dragons.

You struggled to make it up on the railing, but you managed it. You breathed heavily as you looked down, the people below looking as small as ants. You would be okay, you decided. It was a long way down, you would be dead on impact. You smiled weakly as you thought it might feel like you were flying one last time. If not a dragonrider’s death, this would have to do.

You took one final deep breath before stepping off the ledge, expecting to feel the weightlessness of freefall, only it never came.

You were suddenly pulled back violently, falling to the floor of the balcony, your back hitting something hard, but it wasn’t the concrete. You struggled against whoever thwarted your attempt to take your own life, until you saw the briefest flash of long white hair, grazing past your face lightly. “Let me go!” You growled.

“I meant it when I said I’d never let you go.” Aemond spoke quietly, holding you in his arms as tightly as he could without hurting you. “Or did you not remember?” Oh, you remembered alright, how could you not? “I must say, I am quite disappointed that you’d try to leave like this. To kill yourself and possibly our unborn child?” He clicked his tongue in disapproval, but there was an undertone in his voice that made it seem like he was actually upset.

“I’m not pregnant.” You snapped as sharply as you could, feeling your body begging you to give up and give out.

“The maester will be the judge of that. He’s on his way. I’ll make sure you stay alive until then, dear niece.”

Yet again, you were taken back to your bed, your uncle sitting in a chair next to the bed and watching you like a hawk. It was unnerving, to say the least. You kept looking up at the ceiling as sweat kept beading on your forehead, the pain in your abdomen forcing tears in your eye that cascaded down the side of your face. You’ve never missed your mother more. All you wanted was her by your side, to hear her call you her sweet girl one more time, to feel her kiss your forehead in that motherly way only she could. You whimpered as you tried to hold back a sob, curling your fingers into your palm tightly, trying to think of anything else but home.

You flinched as Aemond took your hand, unballing your fist and simply holding it gently, occasionally running his thumb over your knuckles. “Don’t worry, the maester’s due any minute now.” It was so unlike him, to be somewhat reassuring and nice. Did seeing you in utter agony finally thaw his ice cold heart?

“Please, let me go…” You whispered weakly, your voice breaking pitifully.

“No.” He answered.

“What will happen if I am with child, Aemond? I’m sure your mother won’t be too happy about that. She’ll probably kill me herself.” You winced as he squeezed your hand tightly in warning, glaring at you before sighing.

“Do you really think her to be that cruel?”

“You have to get in from somewhere, right?” You gasped as he ripped his hand from yours roughly, standing up to pace with his arms behind his back.

“Must you be so stubborn? I am here trying to be nice and you’re behaving like an ungrateful wretch.” He ranted, his voice threatening to rise but never doing so. He was always skilled at keeping his composure, but you could see how his body tensed and every minute microexpression gave way how much he desired to shout at you.

You scoffed. “I’m sorry if I’m having difficulty letting my guard down in front of my kidnapper.”

“Believe it or not, you are much safer here than you’d ever be at Dragonstone.”

“I don’t care how safe I might be here, I want to go home. I want to be with my family.”

“You are with your family.”

“You don’t treat your family with such hostility. You don’t force your family to take out their own eye. You don’t take away your family’s birthright when it wasn’t theirs to take.”

Aemond chuckled darkly. “You’re one to talk, niece. You took my eye over an insult.”

“You were going to kill my brother.”

“You know I never would have gone through with it. I was a child.”

“And so was I.”

“And then your mother wanted me tortured after you maimed me. My own sister. And don’t tell me she said I was to be sharply questioned. What do you suppose that means, hm? You know, she never once treated me like her own flesh and blood. Nor Aegon, or even Helaena. She never treated us like we were her family. We were always just Alicent’s children. That’s all. Do you think we never wanted a relationship with our own sister? All this was Rhaenyra’s doing, you’d be a fool to not see that. You hold her up on a pedestal, you think she can do no wrong.” Aemond sighed, shaking his head. “If we really were her family, this never would have happened in the first place.”

You wanted to continue the conversation, so badly, but your body simply did not allow it. You let out a soft groan as your throbbing head lolled back, hitting the soft pillows beneath you. You felt like you were going to throw up again, but nothing came up. It didn’t take but a moment until Aemond was back beside you, feeling your forehead with the back of his hand. You heard the doors to your chambers open, the sound of voices and footsteps growing distant until you blacked out.

Aemond hated how worried he was. He wanted to stop his feet from forcing him to pace back and forth outside your doors, the maester inside working to figure out what was happening to you. 

You had shown symptoms of being pregnant, but what if it was something else? Would that be better or worse? Alicent had reprimanded him so harshly for bringing you to King’s Landing, Aemond didn’t even know if she would agree to marry them. So if you were with child, it would be a bastard, just like you.

Aemond growled in frustration as the maester took his sweet time in your quarters, then flinching slightly when his mother appeared in front of him. “How is she?” Alicent asked, her voice barely above a whisper, like she feared she’d distract the maester if she spoke any louder even though he was on the other side of a door.

“She was burning up, passed out as soon as the maester arrived.” 

Aemond tried not to look worried, more inconvenienced, but Alicent’s motherly instincts, what little she had, could tell he was more upset that he led on. “I’m sure she’ll be alright.” She smiled reassuringly.

Aemond hummed. “Her mother wouldn’t be too pleased if she dies in our care, surely. Has she written back with an answer yet?”

Alicent shook her head. “No. But I know her. She would do anything to protect her children, so I’m hopeful.” They each turned their attention to the maester who exited your room. “What news?”

“I’m afraid the flesh around her eye is infected. We will need to cut away the infected flesh and keep her under our watch around the clock to make sure it doesn’t get infected again. I am hopeful that she will be okay, but we need to get her to surgery immediately.”

“Of course, maester. Do whatever you need to do.”

The surgery was long and tedious, but you made it out okay. The Queen mother had maids rotate out every few hours to keep watch on you, the maester visiting every several hours to check on your bandages and making sure to keep the wound clean. You were asleep all the while, constantly being given milk of the poppy to keep you under and pain free. Not that you’d ever know, but you were in the prayers of Alicent and Helaena, despite being the daughter of the enemy. Aegon couldn’t care less, he thought it was idiotic to keep you alive. But Aemond, he was never seen far from your chambers. He’d visit to see how you were fairing every so often, but he never stayed very long. It wasn’t until the third day of recovery that he stayed in your room more often.

Being addled on milk of the poppy, you had no clue what was going on around you. It was hard to care either way. But sometimes you’d wake up in the middle of the night and you would see Aemond sitting in a chair near the fireplace, reading a book and simply just staring into the flames, then you’d pass out yet again. It became a comfort of sorts to find Aemond in your room, you’d rather it be him than anyone else. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, but you slowly started to not see him as a devil. After that conversation you had with him before your surgery, you started to feel bad for him, despite him being the reason you only had one eye now. Although, now that you knew what it was like, it had made you understand him and his motivations a bit more.

After a couple more days, you were starting to be weaned off milk of the poppy. Your head ached and your wound throbbed, but you were glad you were conscious again. But the more conscious you became, the less you saw of Aemond. You were surprised that you actually felt sad by that. This man had kidnapped and violated you, you should’ve been happy to have some space from him. Now you just felt lonely again. You were back to only seeing your maids faces, now the maester every other day. But you were now able to get up and walk around, as long as you didn’t push yourself. You couldn’t even if you wanted to, but now your balcony doors were barred. Aemond must’ve told everyone what had happened, the thought embarrassed you more than it should have.

You were trying to unbar the balcony doors one night, not to jump this time, but you missed the breeze. But you were stopped when your doors opened loudly, causing you to jump and turn around to see… “Aegon?”

“Niece!” The usurper king grinned. “So glad to see you’re up and about, you look healthier than ever. You gave us all a fright you did.”

“You’re drunk, what a surprise.”

“Hey, you’d be drunk all the time if you had to be king too, or, er, queen.”

You rolled your eye, crossing your arms to protect your modesty. “What are you doing here, Aegon?”

“King.” He corrected.

“Not to me.” You snapped, making him frown and send a glare your way.

“Disrespectful cunt.” He mumbled, stumbling towards a chair and taking a seat rather ungracefully.

You probably should’ve been extra cautious around Aegon, even more so since he was drunk, but you had a hard time being afraid when he looked so pitiful. You stepped towards him, kneeling down beside him with the most condescending expression you could muster. “Maybe I’d have more respect if you weren’t a drunken entitled man child that steals his own sister’s throne. You will be a worse king than Maegor the Cruel.”

Despite Aegon being completely wasted, he grabbed a hold of your neck like he was sober, standing up and forcing you up with him, the tightness around your neck making your head spin. “How dare you speak to your king that way?” He spat, his other hand slapping your face and squishing your jaw. “You wish to know true cruelty? Perhaps I shall bring you to my chambers tonight? One night with me and you’ll be on your knees praying that the Stranger comes and takes you away. Or would you enjoy that? Your mother is a whore, maybe the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? I’ve always wondered what you’d feel like around my cock. I’ve talked to my brother about it, I thought he’d be man enough to come take your maidenhead. But you’re quivering like a leaf right now, maybe I was wrong. I guess my brother is still that little boy who couldn’t stand up for himself. No matter. Your king will take you. You should be honored.”

You quickly bit Aegon’s hand as hard as you could, hearing him let out a satisfying yelp, feeling his harsh grip on you release enough so that you could push him away. “You’re vile!” You yelled, keeping a chair in between you and the drunken man.

Aegon laughed, running his hands through his greasy hair. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you…much. Hey, how about this, I’ll forgive your treachery and let you live if you let me take your virginity?”

“Aemond already took it, you fool.” You scowled.

“Oh!” He grinned darkly. “How about that? Guess I don’t have to be gentle with you after all.”

“No, no!” You screamed as Aegon kicked the chair away from you, grabbing you and dragging you to your bed, although with a bit of a struggle due to his drunken state. “Let me go, you lecherous perv!”

Aegon’s mischievous smile quickly dropped as he felt cool steel be placed at the juncture of his neck, the metal already lightly scraping his skin and forcing blood to trickle down his skin. “You heard her. Let her go.” You let out a quiet sigh of relief as Aemond came into view, his dark eye burning into the back of Aegon’s head.

“Brother, you know I could have your head for this?” Aegon growled.

“Not much a king can do if he’s dead.” He said as he pressed the dagger against his skin with more pressure, causing Aegon to hiss in pain as his skin sliced open easily. He rolled his eyes as he let you go, pushing you off of him and onto the bed, Aemond quickly pulling his brother to him. 

“I heard you took her maidenhead. I didn’t think you had it in you, brother.” Aegon smirked, even with the dagger to his throat.

“I will only say this once so you would do well to listen, brother. She is mine. Not yours, not anyone else’s. Mine, and only mine. Understand?” Aemond spoke lowly, his eye seemingly staring into Aegon’s soul.

Aegon frowned in annoyance as he held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. She’s all yours.” But Aemond kept his blade out and pointed at his brother until he was completely out the door, only sheathing it when the doors closed.

“Are you alright?” Aemond spoke, his back facing you.

You resisted the urge to ask why he suddenly cared. “Yes…thank you.”

He hummed. “I’ll be right outside your door tonight. Just in case he comes back.”

“You…” You hesitated, completely sure that this was a bad idea, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “You don’t have to. You can stay in here…if you’d like.” You cringed at how awkward you must’ve sounded, but if you did Aemond didn’t notice or care.

“How’s your eye?” He asked as he took a seat in one of your chairs, crossing his legs and making himself comfortable.

“Fine, it doesn't hurt anymore thankfully.” He nodded. The silence was deafening, and you didn’t know if you could handle it all night. But you didn’t know if that’s what he preferred. “Did I worry you much?” You joked, although it came out more serious than you intended. He didn’t look amused. You looked down to hide your frown, picking at your nails with a sigh. “Has there been any word from my mother?”

“No.” He responded curtly.

“What you told me the other night…I didn’t know any of that, how my mother treated you. I knew she didn’t have the best relationships with you all, or any at all. But I never thought she disliked any of you. She never spoke ill of you, she rarely spoke of you at all, so I guess I just assumed that nothing was wrong.” You shrugged. “She’s always been so loving, not just to me and my brothers, but everyone I’ve seen her interact with. You were right…I put her on a pedestal. I couldn’t see her faults. I’m…I’m sorry she treated you all that way. Siblings are supposed to look out for each other.”

Aemond’s expression was unreadable, like it often was. You looked away before you could embarrass yourself further.

“You shouldn’t apologize for the sins of your mother. Like I said before, it was her own doing. But now, she has the opportunity to make things right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” But Aemond only shook his head. You decided not to push him further. “Did you hope that I’d get pregnant?”

Aemond seemed shocked by your blunt question, but shrugged with a frown. “It would’ve made things easier perhaps. It would’ve forced my mother to marry us, and give Rhaenyra more incentive to bend the knee.”

You chuckled bitterly, shaking your head. “Do you want to marry me that badly?” You joked.

“Would it be so terrible?” He asked seriously, forcing you to actually think about it. “Or do you truly want your mother to kill us all? Do you want this war to happen?”

“No…of course not. I never wanted this to happen.” You exhaled shakily, finding it hard to relax under Aemond’s intense gaze. “If there’s even a chance anything could stop this war without bloodshed, I would do it.”

“Truly anything?”

You had a feeling where he was leading with that question, but you took the bait anyway. “Yes. Anything.” You tensed as Aemond lifted himself off his chair, taking a seat on the bed right beside you, his body heat radiating off of him and enveloping you. Goosebumps rose all over your body as he caressed the side of your face with the back of his hand, his eye gazing into yours. “Aemond-”

“Marry me.” He cupped your jaw, keeping you facing him. “You said you’d do anything. Your mother might give up if you agree. So, marry me, be my wife.”

“And if she doesn’t bend the knee?” You whispered.

“She will if she truly cares for you. Will you risk it?”

You took a deep breath, leaning forward to seal your fate with a kiss. “Yes. I’ll marry you…”

Aemond grinned before capturing your lips in another kiss, feeling his neediness and longing through him. You felt like a traitor yourself as you gave in to him, allowing yourself to want and need. Your mother would be so disappointed in you, but you truly thought it would be best for the kingdom and your family. You wondered if she’d actually bend the knee, or would she call you a traitor as well? You tried not to dwell on it. All you wanted right now was Aemond, to feel him all over your body, to feel him at the apex of your thighs that was already throbbing with desire. 

You didn’t realize you were crying until Aemond pulled away with furrowed brows, wiping away your fallen tears with his thumb. “It’ll be okay.” He whispered, turning you on your back, settling himself in between your legs, keeping one arm propped up so he wouldn’t crush you. But that’s exactly what you wanted.

Aemond let out a noise of surprise when you pulled him down on you, his body completely covering you. Your heavy breaths mixed with each other, your kisses getting sloppy and rough. It wasn’t enough. Even when you had removed each other’s clothes, you still didn’t feel close enough.

You pushed Aemond’s head down your body, sighing heavily as he trailed kisses down your torso until he reached your pelvis, looking up at you hungrily through a heavy lidded eye. “Shall I taste you, princess?” He teased with a smile, spreading your legs as far as they could go and planting sloppy kisses on your inner thighs.

“Please, my prince.”

You whined as Aemond licked up your folds, gathering the wetness that had already pooled at your entrance. He took his time, slowly running his tongue through your slit over and over until you huffed with desperation. “You taste divine. I should’ve done this before. What a fool I was.” You moaned as he whirled the tip of his tongue in circles around your clit, gripping your hips to keep you from bucking against his mouth.

“Seven hells…” You gasped as he closed his lips around your sensitive nub to suckle on it while slowly pushing one of his fingers inside you, curling the digit rhythmically. “Aemond, fuck!” What a fucking traitor you were, delighting in the feeling of the enemy. But you couldn’t help it, the way he so expertly pleased you, being a traitor never felt so good.

Soon enough, Aemond added another finger, stretching you out preemptively, the lewd squelching sound coming from your cunt making your cheeks heat up like you had just stuck your face in an oven. But it was so erotic, even Aemond moaned at the sound, the vibration from his lips making you squeal softly. Though, it ended far too early in your opinion. You watched with parted lips as he came up for air, licking his slick coated lips with a smirk, crawling back up to kiss you hungrily.

You could feel his heavy cock poke at your entrance, making you clench in anticipation. Aemond didn’t even have to guide himself, he just slowly sank into you, both of you letting out loud gasps. He kept eye contact with you as he pushed in inch by inch, kissing all over your face whenever you winced or let out a soft cry, shushing you and trying to get you to relax around him. Even with foreplay, you didn’t know if you would ever get used to his size. But you were thankful he helped you adjust unlike last time. This time, he was sweet and attentive. You wondered where that side of him came from.

“Fuck…” Aemond groaned, finally bottoming out and stilling inside you. “You feel just as heavenly as the first time we lay together, beautiful.” You whimpered as the praise went straight to your core, making him hiss as you pulsed around him. “You can’t do that to me, princess. I want to take my time with you tonight.”

You let out a silent gasp as Aemond thrusted a couple times shallowly, trying to maintain his composure and be as gentle as possible until he settled into a slow but deep pace. You felt so full, his intense eye contact sending a shiver down your spine while the tip of his cock brushed up against that sweet spot inside you. He forced his arms underneath you, pulling you as close to him as possible, holding your back and pressing his chest against yours, like a horizontal hug. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, pulling him deeper as he placed soft kisses on your skin, then turning his head to face you and kissing your cheek.

Feeling his breaths fanning across the side of your face, you turned your head to look at him, unable to restrain yourself from kissing him. You moaned wantonly as he sped up his thrusts slightly, angling his hips so he could hit that spot inside you over and over again. It was so intimate, the close proximity and sensuality of it all. Too much and not enough, but you gave all control over to Aemond. You didn’t trust him, it would take a long time for you to be able to trust him, but something told you he wouldn’t hurt you, not again.

You felt your orgasm build up gradually, each thrust of Aemond’s hips bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but you both didn’t rush, he wasn’t allowing that. But it almost made it better. You weren’t foolish enough to call it romantic, nothing about you and Aemond’s relationship was romantic, not yet at least; but in different circumstances, you could say this was romantic love making. The way he was looking at you made butterflies swirl in your stomach, like you were the only woman in King’s Landing. You hated how special it made you feel.

Your heavy panting echoed throughout the room as Aemond lifted himself up to reach down between the two of you to rub your clit slowly, kissing you languidly and swallowing every single one of your moans. “That’s it…” He moaned. “Come for me, princess.” It didn’t take any more encouragement, you were already so close, able to obey him immediately. Your orgasm wasn’t overpowering; it was slow and gentle much like Aemond’s thrusts and fingers, but it still raised goosebumps all over your body and hardened your nipples as it washed over you, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

Aemond kept up that slow and deep pace, sucking and biting each of your nipples, eliciting an overstimulated whine from you. “My pretty girl…my beautiful girl.” He whispered, kissing your forehead as he sped up his thrusts, grabbing your wrists and pinning them beside your head. “Mine…mine.” You let out a cry as he rutted against you faster and faster, jolting your body with each thrust, but he silenced you by kissing you, keeping his lips pressed against yours until his thrusts become sloppy and erratic. Aemond let out a low groan as he stilled inside you, his eye rolled to the back of his head as he coated your walls with his cum. He collapsed on top of you with heavy panting breaths, kissing along your collarbone as he came down from his high. “Are you okay?” He asked softly.

“Yes, Aemond. That was…lovely.” You smiled in exhaustion, quietly giggling to yourself as he rolled off you and laid down against the bed dramatically. “Will you stay this time?”

“If you wish.”

“I do.”

“Then here I’ll remain.”

It was hard to keep you and Aemond apart after that night. He was more gentle and protective over you. It took some time getting used to his affection, but there came a point when you didn’t think about how you had to be with him out of duty, like you were just a pawn in this war game. You started to enjoy his company. It didn’t take much convincing to get Alicent to agree to marry you to Aemond, seeing his infatuation for you and how it might turn the tide in their favor.

You had to send a letter to your mother about your betrothal to your uncle, which terrified you. The word traitor echoing in your mind over and over again. You knew Daemon would not take it well, knowing him. But you prayed to the Seven that your mother would call off the war, for the sake of your family and the whole kingdom.

You almost couldn’t believe it when Aemond came to you with a huge grin on his face, informing you that your mother had bent the knee for the sake of the realm, accepting Aegon’s terms if only she could attend your wedding. She did not want to rule over ash and bone, she wouldn’t be a good ruler if she went to war, knowing there would be a limitless amount of casualties if she went through with going to war. She just wanted to see her daughter again. 

A wave of relief washed over the entire Red Keep at the news, Alicent seeming even more overjoyed than you were.

The wedding would take place in a few days. You were excited for more than a few reasons. You would see your family again, Alicent having them come over by ship. And when you were a little girl, you always dreamed of having one of those fairytale weddings like most. It would be drastically different, but it excited you nonetheless. Aemond seemed to feel the same, relieved and overjoyed, but he only showed it when he was alone with you.

You finally felt at ease, like everything was going to work out.

Then came the night before the wedding, you felt the nerves flowing through your body. It had just now hit you that you were going to be marrying Aemond, in front of hundreds of people including your family. You weren’t one to get stage fright, but Seven Hells, you were frightened.

A knock on your door cut your thoughts short, calling out for whoever to enter your chambers. You relaxed when it was only Aemond, silently entering your room with a small smile. “I thought the groom wasn’t supposed to see the bride the night before the wedding.” You teased.

“I’m not superstitious.”

“No, you wouldn’t be. But, why have you come?”

“I have a gift for you. A wedding present.”

“Before the actual wedding?”

“Yes.” He chuckled, motioning for you to take a seat on the end of your bed. You waited with bated breath as he pulled out a small box, handing it to you tentatively. “Go on, open it.”

You carefully opened the little box, gasping at the contents inside. “Aemond…” You whispered, you looked at him in shock. It was a beautiful sapphire, very much resembling the one that replaced his own eye.

“The maesters said that your wound has healed enough that it could hold a gem comfortably. I chose the sapphire, but if you prefer something else, I can-”

“Aemond.” You interrupted him tearfully. “It’s beautiful. Perfect. I love it.”

“Only the best for you, my love.”

You never thought your life would end up this way. You never thought the situation you found yourself in would end happily, you thought it would end painfully and messy, but it didn’t. You were about to be married to someone you had grown to deeply care about. You were reunited with your family who supported you and loved you just the same as they had before. You finally felt that motherly love you had been craving these past couple months. 

As the wedding finally started, everyone in the audience whispered amongst themselves as you walked in, your long flowing white dress dragging along the floor, and a bright blue sapphire in your empty eye socket. You and Aemond stood in front of each other with big smiles on your faces, looking at each other like you two were the only people in the room. You looked at your family, seeing their smiles of approval, making you feel at peace more than you ever have in your life.

After saying your vows, swearing to honor and cherish each other before the Seven, you both sealed the engagement with a passionate kiss. You pulled away as everyone clapped and cheered, each other’s sapphire’s shimmering in the light and reflecting off each other.

The two of you truly looked like you were made for each other.

I"M SUCH A SUCKER FOR A HAPPY ENDING I"M SORRY I COULDN"T HELP MYSELF

tag list: @drawing-kitty1, @candypurplebutterfly, @siriusdumblittlepuppy, @chromesunbeams

𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - Aegon II Targaryen

don't judge me, i've been falling in lust with tom glynn-carney. i blame him and his stupid handsome face.

Warnings: SMUT (MINORS DNI), incest, sub!Aegon, praise kink, oral (m and f!receiving), orgasm denial (if you squint), dacryphilia, mentions of abuse

word count | 2.6k🤙🏻

It was the middle of the night when you heard frantic knocking at your door.

You were restless and hadn’t been sleeping anyway, but it immediately concerned you at who would be up at such a late hour. But you relaxed when you opened your door to see your brother, Aegon. 

Of course it was him, who else would it be? You should’ve known, he has on more than several occasions snuck to your bedroom to seek comfort in your bed, ever since he was a young boy. It looked like tonight was no different. His eyes were red and watery, thick tears streaming down his face. He pleaded to you silently, and you instantly knew what he needed.

You quickly ushered him inside your chambers, sitting him on the edge of your bed, taking his hands and bringing them up to your lips to kiss them softly. “Again?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aegon let his tears fall freely, unashamed in your company, sighing in slight relief as you cupped his face, your soft skin on his encouraging him to look at you. “It’s becoming her favorite pastime.”

Your mother hasn’t always been the gentlest person, having to grow up quicker than most children, being forced to marry and bed a man over twice her age. It hardened her, made her rough around the edges that often showed itself to her own children. She was never the most patient or compassionate mother, with her eldest least of all. Aegon would often take the brunt of her verbal lashings, even taking her physical punishments. Your brother would often come to your chambers with a bruise or red markings on his face, not able to stand being alone knowing you had the tender caring presence that your mother never had. It seemed like all of Alicent’s better motherly qualities got transferred over to you, being the youngest of her children, the one who was always babied whether you liked it or not.

You never understood your siblings' hesitance to be around your mother when you were younger, you and Aemond would often be the two who’d spent the most time with her, you absolutely adored her. You didn’t understand until you stepped out of line one day. Up until that point, you were always the most well behaved, always did as you were told. You just wanted to have fun, for once. Aegon had taken you out to the streets of King’s Landing to show you the culture, but you got caught and were immediately brought back to your mother. You had never witnessed such anger from your mother before. She yelled at Aegon until she went blue in the face, scolding your brother for putting you at risk, slapping him multiple times. She had even slapped you when you attempted to intervene, telling her you wanted to go with him. You and Aegon hadn’t been allowed to see each other or leave your chambers for a week after that.

Aegon was always extra careful with you after that night, caring, something he rarely showed others. He never wanted you to see that side of your mother, always having to see it himself, so the fact that it happened because of him laid guilt on his shoulders heavily. You were the only person he ever treated with such care, he was like a different person when it came to you. It confused you to see him treat others so rudely, then turn around and treat you like a queen. You had realized that he had a fondness for you when he came to your chambers the night of your eighteenth name day, finally expressing how much he adored you, feeling protective of you ever since you were born. When he was with you, he never felt like he had to drink or whore around to feel at ease. Your presence was more than enough for him. He took you to bed that night, whispering how much he loved you over and over again.

Every night since then, he had snuck into your chambers, craving your embrace more than wine. Or, if your mother had another lashing out, he’d come to you to bask in your love, love he never received from Alicent. Just like tonight. “What happened this time?” You asked Aegon, gently thumbing away some of his fallen tears.

He chuckled bitterly. “I made a joke, like I always do. It was about our cunt of a half sister.”

You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “You know I don’t like that word. And you shouldn’t call her that in front of mother either, you know she was fond of her once.”

“I can’t imagine how, they’re completely different.”

You smiled shyly, bumping your shoulder against his. “So are we.”

He finally smiled, albeit sadly. “Yes. Though, you’re not as annoying as Rhaenyra.”

“Sounds like a challenge.” You smirked, poking his face until he gave you a genuine smile.

“Alright, alright, knock it off.” He giggled, grabbing your hand and holding it to his heart. “I need you, darling. I need you to distract me, please.” He begged, sniffling and wiping away the rest of his tears, turning to face you with pleading eyes.

You shushed him softly, holding his face as you placed feather light kisses all over him, hearing him let out a quiet whimper as you finally connected your lips with his. “Don’t worry, my love. I’m going to take care of you.” Aegon suddenly became more forceful, his desperation pouring into the kiss, grabbing onto your waist with a bruising grip. You gently pushed him away, ignoring his growl. “Hold on, hold on, baby. You’re not doing that, not tonight.” He let out a sharp breath as you pushed him back roughly, straddling his waist so you could have more control.

Aegon loved to control you in bed, but more often than not, you were the one to take control over him, especially when he came to you after one of your mother’s outbursts. That’s another reason he loved you, you always seemed to know what he needed. He loved being put in his place, he loved pleasing you, having your approval. He often thought he could live his entire life underneath you. “You’re gonna be a good boy for me, right?” You whispered, running a hand down his torso until you reached the laces on his trousers, feeling his already hardening cock push against the fabric.

“Yes, my love.” He whimpered, trying his best not to buck up against your hand as you undid the laces, slowly pulling down his pants. “Please…”

“Such a needy baby already.” You hummed, running your hands up his thighs, pushing his shirt up and over his head, rendering him completely bare underneath you while you were still in your shift. “Tell me what you want, love.” You cooed, kissing up his inner thighs, causing him to squirm.

“Need your mouth on my cock. Please, darling.” He whimpered pitifully, letting out a soft moan as you licked up the underside of his cock slowly, placing a gentle kiss on the tip. As you slowly took his throbbing member into your mouth inch by inch, the moan that escaped his lips was downright sinful it would even make the most lecherous whore blush. The beautiful sound traveled all the way down your body and made your walls clench around nothing, feeling painfully empty. “Need you to fuck me.” He whined, making you come off his cock with a stern glare.

“What? You’re not happy with me sucking your cock? Not enough for you? Maybe I should just stop then.”

“No, no!” He quickly cried. “Please, it felt so good.” You smirked as you got off your knees, pulling down your nightgown and stepping out of it, crawling on top of Aegon, him watching you with desperate glazed over eyes. “You’re so beautiful, my love.”

“I know.”

“Need you so bad.” Aegon whispered as he sat up to wrap his lips around one of your hardened nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from you.

“I know, I know, darling. But you’ll have to wait.” You yanked his head back by his hair roughly, biting your lip at the pretty little yelp he made, your desire between your legs growing rapidly. “You said you’d be a good boy for me, right?” You pushed him back down against the bed, crawling up until you lining up your dripping pussy with his face, his eager expression making a pleasurable ache twist in your gut. “So be a good boy and fuck me with your tongue, Aegon.”

You let out a relieved moan as Aegon immediately kissed your clit roughly, licking up and down your folds as you held onto his hair and tried to keep yourself steady. He wrapped his arms around your thighs and forced you down on his face completely, making sure you couldn’t move away even if you wanted to. But you absolutely did not have any intention to move, not when his tongue was working you to your orgasm so perfectly. He wasn’t always the best at it, but with your instruction, he became a master at pleasuring you. He always joked that it was the only thing he could do correctly, and if only he was as good at preparing to be king as he is at giving head. “Fuck, Aegon!” You cried out, rutting your hips against his face as he lapped at your clit like a man starved, pushing himself harder and harder until you had to pull his hair just to get some reprieve from overstimulation. “How do I taste, my love?”

“So good.” He slurred. “Sweeter than King’s Landing’s finest wine. I could get drunk off you."

“I think you already have.” You giggled, gasping loudly as he dove back in, moaning like he was being pleasured and not the other way around. “You’re making me feel so good, Aegon.” You smiled as he whimpered, loving how you praised him. “Fuck, I’m so close. You gonna make me come, my love?”

“Yes.” He whispered against you, his breath sending a shiver down your spine. “I wanna make you come. Please, come for me.” He whined, sucking on your clit hard until you cried.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You moaned as you rode his face, entirely uncaring if you were suffocating him or not, all you wanted was that sweet release. Aegon simply let you rut against his tongue, your arousal dripping down his throat. Your thighs shook around his face, spasming and trying your best to hold yourself upright as your release finally washed over you, goosebumps rising all over your body and a strained cry escaping your mouth.

You shakily crawled off Aegon’s face, seeing his mouth upturned in a boyish grin with your slick coating his lips and chin. “You did so good for me, love.” You kissed his forehead, trailing your lips down his face then neck. “I think you deserve a reward, hm?” You smirked, leering at his needy expression as you straddled his waist, ever so slightly grinding yourself on his cock, making him exhale sharply.

Lining up his cock with your entrance, you and Aegon moaned loudly as you slowly sunk down on him, your walls stretching strenuously in an attempt to accommodate his size, the slight sting making you whimper. Aegon threw his head back against your pillow with a sigh as you finally were able to take the last few inches of him, sitting comfortably until you started to leisurely rock your hips against him. You were in no hurry, knowing you had hours until he had to sneak back into his own chambers. You wanted to prolong this for as long as possible; you could already tell Aegon was starting to lose his patience, trying to buck his hips against you but you quickly placed your palms firmly on his chest to keep him from moving.

“Darling, please-”

“Shh.” You cooed, leaning down to kiss his plump lips, smoothing over the hair on his hair softly. “Just relax. We don’t need to hurry tonight.”

“I wanna come so bad…” He whined, eyes glazing over with tears, gracefully trailing down the sides of his face and creating a tiny puddle on your pillows.

“You are so incredibly pretty when you cry, my darling.” You smirked, lapping up his tears with your hot tongue, pulling away when he tried to kiss you. “You remember who’s in control here, right?” You asked sweetly, but keeping a dark glare in your eyes, admiring the way his bottom lip trembled.

Aegon let out a soft sob as you rocked your hips back and forth agonizingly slow, the cute noise sending a shock wave throughout your core. You didn’t even want to give him what he wanted anymore, all so you could hear those sweet sounds. But you were getting impatient as well, your pussy throbbing and desperately craving some friction. You both let out cries as you lifted yourself up and forcefully slammed back down on his cock, his eyes closed tightly and sucking air through his teeth. “Eyes on me.” You commanded, grabbing his jaw tightly. “Keep looking at me, love.” You spoke more lovingly, caressing the side of his face as you sped up and bounced on him in fervor.

“Feels so good.” He moaned, a quiet growl escaping his throat as he held onto your hips firmly, but it wasn’t quiet enough to escape your ears. You cursed as you started to feel another orgasm bubbling up inside of you, your walls clenching around him in a vice grip as the tip of his cock kept hitting that sweet spot in you. “Fuck—I’m so close. Gods, I need it so bad.” He begged, tightening his hold on you, afraid you’d deny him. But you needed another release as much as he needed his first one.

You let out a wanton moan as you didn’t hold back as you fucked Aegon hard, the sound of your skin slapping wetly against his echoing around the apartment, a blush dusting your face as your pussy made the most lewd noises. “You’re so beautiful.” Aegon whispered, looking up at you in awe. “You’re a goddess, my goddess.”

Your eyes threatened to roll to the back of your head as your orgasm washed over you, pure euphoria that made you dig your nails into Aegon’s pale chest and your toes curling tightly, not as tightly as your pulsing walls clenched around him. It lasted longer than you expected, a thin sheen of sweat coating your body as you held onto Aegon for dear life. You let out a breathy moan as you finally finished, an exhausted smile on your face. But Aegon hadn’t come yet, you ignored the overstimulation as you continued to bounce on his cum coated cock. “Are you going to come for your goddess?” You smirked, feeling his cock twitch inside you and watching his brows furrow as he let out a silent cry.

“My love, my love…” Aegon moaned, bucking up into you as fast as he humanly could, making you curse. “I’m gonna-” You quickly lifted yourself off of him, grinding your pussy on his shaft until he came with a low groan, spilling his seed onto his belly. You planted light kisses all over his face as he breathed heavily, smiling as you heard him chuckle.

“Was that okay?” You asked, gently pushing his hair out of his face.

“Of course, my love. I always enjoy you.” You felt quite proud of yourself as you laid down beside him, resting your head on his chest, sighing contently. He kissed the top of your head, breathing you in as he pulled you as close as possible. “You know how much I love you, right?” He asked suddenly, causing you to laugh.

“You’ve told me as such, in great detail, multiple times.”

“Good, just making sure.”

really in my "i can fix him" era

dude what the fuck? i'm not even into Pedro Pascal but this was so hot??! WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME???? Fuck...

𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗲 | dark-ish!joel miller x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | when you don't have enough rations to get your fix, you have to find something else to trade

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | a bit under 5k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | dubious consent SMUT (18+ only; unprotected sex, oral m receiving, creampie, sex as currency), orgasm control, slapping, choking, spanking, very dirty talk including degradation (slut, whore, etc.), possessiveness, discussions/threats of anal but no actual anal, just a touch of daddy kink and sir kink, implied age gap but not specified, joel is a lil mean but in a sexy way, reader is a pill user/addict

(gif originally by @joelmjller tumblr absolutely refused to show it in gif search)

You chewed your nails nervously as you watched him walk up to your usual spot; you tried to act casual, but the more of this stuff you got, the more you needed it— and the more you needed, the harder it was to act casual when you knew it was coming.

“You got the stuff?” you asked quickly, giving your anxiousness away.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, “you got the rations?”

You didn’t respond, even with a nod, you just pulled the stack of papers out of your pocket and handed them over. Your foot tapped on the ground— a little tacky, mud’s still drying from the storm two days ago— as he flipped through them.

It’s hard to say what you expected. Like he’d forget how to count or something? “This isn’t enough,” he informed you flatly, looking up from the stack to shoot you a glare.

“C’mon, Joel, be cool,” you whimpered, “so I’m a little short—”

“A little short?” he repeated. “This is less than half what you owe me.”

“Less than half? That’s fourteen— your prices went up?” you wondered.

“No,” he shook his head, seeming frustrated, “what you owe for today plus what you owe from when I spotted you for last week’s fix—”

“Fuck,” you groaned, “I forgot, I’m sorry— but you know I’m good for it.”

He tried to hand the ration cards back to you, and you bit your lip to stop it from shaking.

“I need this, Joel— you know I need this,” you began to ramble, but he stopped you with a tight grip on your shoulder. Looking him in the eyes, you cowered a bit just from how intense his stare was.

“You need to get it together, kid,” he warned you, but you were only halfway paying attention.

“M’not a kid,” you defended yourself quietly, though your mind was already somewhere else as your eyes on the hand holding your shoulder. "I'm low on rations," you admitted, "but I can get you something else."

He gave you a confused look, until you reached forward and rested a hand gently on his chest, through the heavy dark green jacket he wore. Then he understood, and gave you a disappointed look. "I don't do that."

"Do what, relax? Take some time for yourself?" you pressed, letting your teeth catch your bottom lip slightly. His eyes did linger on your mouth for a moment, and you hoped this was working. "How long's it been since you got some?"

"Not that long," he said defensively, letting go of your shoulder, but you stepped closer to him and kept sizing him up.

"How long's it been since you got whatever you wanted?"

That seemed to get his attention a bit better. "You can't just say that— you can't just offer that," he corrected firmly. "You say that to the wrong creep trying to get extra cigarettes or something and you end up—"

"M'not saying it to anybody else, Joel," you promised, "this is just for you— I never traded something like this before, but, you know… we go back, and I trust you."

He raised an eyebrow at you. "Can I trust you?"

Smiling, you pressed your body up against his; he stiffened up— not in the way you were hoping, either— but didn't stop you. "Trust me how? What would I do?"

"I dunno," he muttered.

"I think the better question is, Joel," you lowered your voice as you looked at him through your lashes, "do you think I'm pretty?"

He scoffed, but you saw right through it. He was trying to tell himself he was better than this, that he needed the rations more, that you weren't worth the trouble. But his neck flexed and you knew you were in.

"Goddamnit," he hissed, and you thought he was about to throw you off when he grabbed your arm. Instead, he started to walk and guide you with him. "Not here."

"Honestly, you'd be doing me a favor," you shrugged, standing up on your tiptoes so you could whisper in his ear: "I always wanted to suck your cock."

He took you, eventually, to his room— it was much more spacious than most, especially yours, and you wondered what you'd have to do to get to spend a night here.

A second later, he pulled you into him; his hands ran up your back, and you smiled as he pressed against you. "Lemme see you first, baby, lemme see you," he whispered, helping you out of your shirt and sighing as he grabbed handfuls of your tits.

Your hands, meanwhile, rubbed the front of his jeans— but he wasn't hard yet, at least not much. Not until he unbuckled your pants and pushed them down along with your underwear, immediately groping your bare ass with a sigh.

"Got a nice ass," he decided, jiggling it briefly with his hand— and before you could react to that, he slipped that hand around and cupped your pussy with it, sliding one finger between the seam of your lips.

"Fuck, Joel," you whispered, reeling a bit from how sudden it all was.

But then it stopped— just as instantly as it had started— and he sat down on the couch. "Well?" he prompted after you just stood there dumbfounded for a moment.

He kept his legs spread wide, and put his hands up behind his head as he leaned back. Why was that so hot?

Swallowing, you got down on your knees between his, running your hands up his denim-covered legs for just a moment before finding his belt.

He let you do the work, opening the buckle and sliding the leather out, reaching into the fly and pulling out—

Fuck, he was big. Thick as hell, a fat head with a vein running up the side… you let your mouth water, knowing it would make this easier, and held his shaft tight as you began to mean forward.

"Hey," he said suddenly, making you stop for a second. "You better make it good for me, or no pills."

Looking up at him and hoping your eyes didn't give your nervousness away, you nodded. He smiled, and leaned back to really sink into the couch.

You started with just a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, one right over his slit, and his only reaction was adjusting his leg a bit. Taking the head in your mouth, you suckled carefully, letting excess spit run down until it collided with your hand at his base.

It wasn't until he started to get harder in your mouth that you realized he wasn't fully hard before. You knew he was hard enough and thought maybe that was where it capped out for a man his age— no, clearly not, and you felt your hand struggle to wrap fully around his girth as he grew even more.

Trying to sink your lips down further, you had to open up your jaw like you never had before; it wasn't painful per se, but it was an odd feeling, and your lips were a little dry to be stretched this far…

You took him deeper until the tip kissed your throat, and you started to really get into the rhythm of it as your hand stroked what was left in time with the bobbing of your head.

Just when you thought you'd found the pattern and pace that would take you to the end of this, you were interrupted. He smiled a little, and a hand grabbed your shoulder suddenly and tightly; you froze. "Slow, baby, slow," he reminded you. "There's no rush, okay?"

You nodded a bit, still holding him in your mouth, and resumed— much more careful with your speed this time.

"Better," he praised, letting go of your shoulder and getting comfortable on the sofa again.

You kept the same motions, but tried not to get too lost in it— letting your tongue lick and taste, trying to really treat him so you wouldn't get corrected again.

It was a struggle to get much deeper, not just for your throat but for your lips and jaw forced wide open. Still, you worked to warm yourself up, taking your time as he'd encouraged you to.

For a while, he didn't react much, though he did watch you very closely. The first thing he did to show he was really here was brush some hair away from your face, tilting your face back slightly in the process.

"Look up at me," he whispered, "there you go… pretty eyes…"

It made your chest warm and your pussy tingle for just a second; his stare was intense, you struggled to keep eye contact with him looking at you like that.

He held your head and started to move his hips a bit, gently sliding his cock in and out of your mouth— just an inch at first, and he held you still while he did what he wanted with you. "Pretty lips," he continued, running his thumb over them, tracing the shape your mouth was forced into by his cock. "Use that tongue, baby, I told you to make it good for me."

Humming in agreement-meets-apology, you ran your tongue firmly along the underside of his cock as he moved in your mouth.

That all changed when he realized what you were doing. He smiled at you— a dark, yet amused, grin— as you sunk deeper between his legs to lick his balls. They were heavy in your mouth, and a little salty with his sweat; the mix of dark and grey hairs rubbed roughly on your tongue. "That's cute," he informed you, running his fingers over your cheek for a moment. You weren't sure if that was the word you would use for this, but you didn't disagree because your mouth was full.

That went on for a while until your jaw was fucking killing you and you had to take a break; even with his hands on your hair he let you pull yourself off, though the look on his face did show some confusion and disappointment.

You switched to the other one, closing your eyes while you really savored it, tracing the shape of them with the tip of your tongue before sucking them carefully into your mouth.

He moaned when you did that, and you opened your eyes. He looked so fucking good like this, eyes shut and head fallen back and his hands tightening into fists at his side. "That's nice, keep going," he encouraged, suddenly grabbing your hair when you sucked even harder on the bulb in your mouth. But he didn't try to stop you, or guide you, he just kept it there and hissed in a breath through his teeth as you continued.

When your jaw had had enough of a break you tried to get right back to it, but he shoved your face back between his legs and groaned.

"Not yet," he snapped, "keep licking my balls— fuck, like that… so dirty, baby…"

When it was time for you to stop that and get back to the main event, he made it pretty clear; he pushed your head back and shoved his cock into your mouth, groaning lowly as he let go and let you get back to it. He seemed to like how eager you were now, not stopping you to slow you down like before.

You twisted your hand around him, because everything was plenty slippery enough to do that, as you bobbed your head; obscene slurping noises filled the room and you felt like a proper whore now, spoiling him with the absolute best head you had to offer, using your mouth to pleasure him until you couldn't remember any other purpose for it.

After a few minutes of that, he yanked you off of his cock by your hair, making you gasp and blink up at him. "Is it good, daddy?" you asked with a smile.

He slapped you quickly on the cheek, and you yelped a bit as your face spun to the side. But you moaned, too. "You like that?" he realized.

"Yeah," you sighed, "unless you don't want me to."

He laughed breathlessly. "No, it's hot— you're such a whore, baby, keep sucking…"

He guided you back, pushing his cock onto your tongue with just his thumb until you could wrap your lips around him again and continue your work.

"Fuck yeah," he sighed, head falling back again.

With each bob of your head, you took him a little deeper— deeper, deeper, until the tip breached your throat and he moaned loudly as you gagged.

"Yeah, choke on it," he encouraged, "show me what you can do— fuck, baby…"

Deeper, deeper, until his whole head was past the back of your throat and you fought the urge to swallow, knowing you'd have to start all over.

"Shit, that's good," he mumbled. "Really fucking good…"

You took him deeper still, until all of a sudden your lips were at his base and his dick was further than you ever thought possible.

"Oh fuck," he moaned, stroking your hair, "you— fuck, baby, that throat… you've got a fucking talent, kid."

You did not expect to get wet from him calling you that… maybe it's just because you never thought he'd say it in a time like this. But it made your thighs clench together and your hips shift.

"No wonder this is what you wanted to do, huh? Wanted to show me your little party trick, take my cock down your fuckin' throat?" he snarled. "Bet you do this all the fucking time, a blowjob for a fix or more rations or something else you want…"

You shook your head, and he laughed a bit.

"No? You're a good girl?"

You nodded, moaning around him.

"Then what are you doing blowing me for pills, huh? Is that what good girls do?"

You shook your head, but he pulled you off by your hair again.

"Say it," he ordered. "Is that what good girls do, suck cock for drugs?"

"No," you answered.

"No sir," he corrected.

"No, sir," you repeated, heat pooling between your legs until you worried you'd drip on his floor.

"Keep sucking, slut," he ordered, putting you back in your place literally and figuratively. "Show me what a bad girl you are— yeah, fuck, show me how you use that whore mouth, fuck—"

You struggled to get back into your pace when he was holding your head, moving you the way he wanted. Unlike before, he was speeding you up, faster and faster until he was basically just fucking your mouth. You did your best to use your hand, but eventually just gave up and kept your throat open, letting him use you however he liked.

"Gonna come in that pretty mouth," he promised, biting his lip for a moment. "Fuck, gonna fill that little mouth— don't swallow it 'til I say so."

You tried to nod, but your movements were controlled by him now; you felt his cock flex and pulse, and you shut your eyes in anticipation of it.

"No, fuck, keep them open," he pleaded, "look up at me while I come— yes, fuck, fuck!"

As he came, you sighed through your nose with relief. You were already thinking about getting that baggy of pills, about how deliciously high you were gonna be tonight, all because you did this. It took longer than you expected, but it was relatively painless— except for your jaw, and your throat, and your cheek, and your knees…

"Show me," he ordered, and you opened your mouth to carefully pool his spend on your tongue. "Mm," he hummed proudly when you displayed it all for him, holding your chin so he could turn your face either way and get a good look at what he'd done to you.

It was humiliating, sort of, and yet you felt proud of yourself when he looked at you like that.

"Good, baby, you can swallow now," he offered, and you did so quickly— but it didn't quite get the taste off your tongue.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you were about to try to stand up, maybe thank him for letting you do this instead of paying for the pills, but you realized this wasn't over yet just by the way he was looking at you.

"Come up here," he encouraged, patting his thigh and smiling down at you. "Let's see what else you can do."

With shaky knees, you stood up and took your pants off from around your ankles, climbing up to straddle his lap. "Are we really gonna—?"

He interrupted you by grabbing your hips and already starting to give commands. "Over here, baby, like this— there you go…"

He had you right where he needed you in order to guide his cock up to your hole and slide you down onto him. From the second his tip breached your opening, you gasped.

"Tight fuckin' pussy," he grunted, his top lip curling in a snarl for just a second.

He kept pushing you down until your inner thighs were pressed to his jeans, and he watched you shiver as his cock stirred places deep inside you— too deep, you'd thought before, for a cock to reach.

"Go ahead," he instructed, "ride."

You lifted yourself up and down, whimpering as his thick cock stretched you; it was taking you longer than you expected to adjust to it, but you almost didn't want to…

"Too big?" he wondered with a smug smirk.

"I-I can take it," you said, not sounding especially confident.

"You do this a lot?" he interrogated. "Ride big cocks?"

He laughed a little, and moved you so you had to pick up your pace a bit. You had to hold onto the couch to keep your balance as a wavering moan jumped from your lips. "Feels good, baby? Feels nice and thick, givin' that pussy a stretch?" he taunted.

"No," you promised, "I don't— fuck…"

"Yeah," you panted, "feels good."

"Who feels good?"

"You— Joel, it's you, you feel so good, you feel so fucking good," you babbled pathetically, moving faster again. He moved your hands from the back of the couch to his shoulders, before putting his grip back on your hips.

"Keep riding, baby," he instructed, "keep riding my cock, yeah, like that…"

Your head fell back and a low groan slid from your throat. "Joel," you moaned, "fuck, so deep…"

"You know I had to use this whole pussy, baby, every inch," he grinned. "Of course I'm deep— it's all mine, isn't it? I can go as deep as I want."

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding.

"I can go as hard as I want," he continued.

"Yes!"

"I can go as slow as I want," he added, laughing when you whined at the way he forced your pace to slow down again. "What's the rush, baby? Why are you always trying to get it over with? I know you fucking like it."

He held your face for just a second before he slapped it— then he did it again, again… just when you thought he'd never stop slapping you, he did, only to move his hand down to wrap around your neck

"Shit, you like that too?" he grinned, massaging your neck so hard that it already made your head spin. You nodded.

He tightened his grip until your gasp was cut short and you were totally at his mercy, static filling your brain.

"That's it— fuck, you get really tight when I choke you," he noticed when he let go, and you coughed a little but moaned impatiently. "You want more? Shit… fucking slut."

He choked you again, your hips struggling to keep up the pace when all the air was gone; but that didn't seem to bother him much, if anything he liked seeing you struggle.

Still, he kept one hand on your hips to guide you, occasionally exploring with it so he could rub your thigh or play with your tits. It made you more aware that he'd never even taken his boots off while you were fully nude, grinding in his lap while he just sat back and watched you. You felt so inferior; why did it feel so good?

"Joel," you gasped when his roaming hand rubbed over your clit briefly. He smirked.

"Here, baby?" he teased, drawing the gentlest circles on your bud. "Want me to play with your little pussy, that's what you need?"

"Fuck, you soak me every damn time I choke you," he noticed; his voice was the only one in the room now with your moans silenced, and yet he sounded so far away past the ringing in your ears.

"Yes, fuck, please," you begged, but your words were cut short when the hand on your neck tightened again. He rubbed your clit hard, but you couldn't scream while he choked you, and your whole body felt like it was filled with pressure as he fucked up into you off the couch.

When he let go, you breathed in a deep gasp and moaned much louder than you meant to.

"Bounce on it, come on," he encouraged roughly, smacking your ass to kick you back into gear; you held on tight to his shoulders and swirled your hips, moaning shamelessly now at the feeling of his cock filling your sensitive pussy.

"Joel," you sobbed, "fuck, I— so good, I wanna— oh god—"

He slapped you one more time to get you back to your senses. "What's that, baby?" he pressed.

"You want more?" he grunted, watching your face closely. "You want more, baby? Say it."

"I— I— fuck," you stammered, unable to get any other words out. I'm gonna come if you don't stop. But he didn't need to hear you say it, he already knew.

Another hard slap to the face seemed to fix the part of your brain that makes words, and you spoke more coherently. "I want more," you whined, "fuck me harder, Joel, I want it!"

He grabbed you by your fucking neck and threw you off of him, onto the couch, with a sneer. As he shoved your head down and yanked your hips up, you arched your back to get yourself in position for him; but instead he smacked your ass hard and your back jolted up the other way.

"Slut," he scolded roughly, giving the other cheek a spank next.

You nodded against the couch. "I am, I am," you admitted with a sigh.

He shoved your lower back down again when it tried to arch up, a natural response to his cock hitting the deepest parts of you. You yelped each time, a sharp pang in your gut with every thrust, but he fucked you as hard and deep as he wanted regardless.

"Fucking dirty slut," he repeated, getting up on his knees to clumsily guide his cock to your hole; and you both groaned when he slipped in. "God," he choked, fucking you fast and deep right away, "so fuckin' tight— no baby, no no—"

"S'better— keep it like this, show me that ass," he ordered roughly as his gaze went back and forth from your twisted face of pain to his cock slamming into your cunt. "Good girl."

Even when it was getting battered to all fuck, your pussy managed to give him a nice squeeze when he said that.

"Real cute ass, too," he added, and you jumped a bit when his thumb brushed over your other hole. "Should I fuck it?"

"Joel," you gasped, not answering his question.

"Do you want me to?"

After hesitating, you shook your head.

"No?" he pressed.

"No," you admitted in a pout.

"Ask me not to," he ordered.

"Don't… don't fuck my ass, Joel, please…" you obliged, not sure if he was taunting you before he did it anyways or what. You both knew that you were in no position to stop him.

"What's that? You don't want it?"

"No, Joel, please! Not there!" you pleaded again, a little more emphatically.

"So I can't?"

You hesitated again. "You can… I just don't want you to," you relented, and he laughed.

"Don't worry, baby, I'm not gonna," he promised. "Pussy's too good. You're just cute when you're scared."

You couldn't say if that was true, but one thing you did discover was that you came faster when you were scared; it was already reaching the point of no return, that feeling deep inside. It was building faster than you could handle it, like he was forcing the pleasure to overtake your body— like your body obeyed him before you now. "God, fuck, fuck—" you choked out weakly, starting to shake all over.

"Close?" he noticed, and you nodded. "Not 'til I say so."

"Fuck, Joel, c'mon," you whined, getting another spank for your insolence.

"Not 'til I fuckin' say so," he insisted, speaking through his teeth as he kept a bruising grip on your hips. "Better not fuckin' come until I say, got it? Or you're not getting your pills."

"Okay, okay," you panted, "not gonna come unless you let me… I'll come when you say, just please…"

He chuckled a little, making you whimper in the back of your throat when he angled his hips to push his cock as absolutely deep as you could go; you'd never gotten a stomach ache from sex before, but he was churning everything inside you and making your whole body his plaything. Was that why he was going to make you wait to come? To make sure you knew how easily he owned you?

'Cause then it wasn't really necessary; you already knew, it was obvious.

"Good girl," he praised again, and you shivered all over; he fucked you harder, keeping up a ruthless pace, and you knew he was close.

At least, you hoped he was close, 'cause you weren't sure how much more of this you could take.

"Whose is this, baby?" he asked in a rough voice.

"Yours, yours," you promised with a whimper, "s'all yours, daddy, everything— s'all for you."

"Yeah, yeah," you agreed fervently, "fuck I'm gonna come, Joel, please… please let me—"

"Damn right," he grunted in agreement. "You're mine, baby— my whore, yeah?"

"Come, whore."

He groaned as it hit you— he must have felt it— and you made a sound you were pretty sure you'd never made before as your fingers clung tightly to the cushion under you.

His pace faltered and you were so lost in your ecstasy that you didn't even question it… until he slowed down to a near stop, grunting weakly with every stuttered thrust into you.

"Oh god," he moaned, "that was good."

When you realized, it was far too late. "Shit, fuck!" you spat. "You came inside?!"

"You said 'whatever I wanted'," he recalled, not seeming to feel very guilty for what he'd done.

His grip tightened on your neck again, and you stopped. "Quit fucking whining or I'll give you another load," he warned, letting go of your neck a second later and finally pulling out.

"I said I wanted to blow you," you remembered, starting to sober up very quickly, "and you fucked me— and you fucking came inside, asshole, what the fuck am I gonna do if—"

You swallowed, awkwardly laying your sore hips down on the couch. "You could… really do that? You already came twice."

"I lied— it has been that long," he admitted. "And with a tight pussy like this to fuck?"

He looked over at you, grabbing your thigh and lifting it so he could see his come leaking from your abused hole.

"Yeah, I could go again," he assured you, patting your ass gently after he let it drop back down. "You'd have to suck me for a while though, get me hard again…"

You sat up, slowly, and found more soreness in your muscles than you expected. "How many pills would I get? If I did that?"

He looked at you and smirked. "Whatever you want, baby," he promised, and you absent-mindedly licked your lips. He laughed as you leaned forward, getting on your knees beside him so you could put your head down in his lap. "Really? You were just bitching at me, figured you'd wanna leave and go shower so you could wash all that come out, try not to get knocked up."

You lifted his softening cock up to your lips, suckling at the tip and humming at the taste of yourself on his skin.

"But you wanna blow me again, huh?" he continued, voice raspier as he pet the back of your head. "Wanna get me hard so I can fuck that come back into you?"

You didn't respond to his question, just started to find your rhythm again until you heard him moan lowly as you sucked.

"Damn, baby… gonna get all the pills you want…" he mumbled his promises. "Gonna be my little whore, right? Gonna take care of daddy?"

Shutting your eyes tight, you hummed around him; this was far from over— this was never gonna be over. This was the new normal. At least you could keep your rations… hopefully.

"Yeah, that's what I thought…"

hiyaaa can we get more Tom Bennet fics? 🥺 Any plot will do… just more Tom Bennet smut ;;

And more Aemond fics as well if that isn’t too much to ask 🫣😮‍💨

Love your works!! Keep up the good work :)))

I'm attempting to work on a Tom Bennett smutty fic right now😊. It's gonna be a sort of modern special agent/undercover spy type AU, and i'm really excited about it! But it's gonna take a looooooong time to research and finish cause...well, everything going on in my life right now lmao. Mostly school, i'm taking a history class and it's so fuckin boring, but i'm trying to take it seriously and it is taking up ALL of my time. But I will finish it...someday eventually, if my brain doesn't explode😅