pairing : eddie munson x fem!reader
summary : skipping class with your boyfriend to get high in the woods behind school was your favorite thing to do. but much to eddie’s dismay, this time around didn’t involve heated make-out sessions and heartfelt hugs, it was just you pestering him about his full name. your current theory on what it was? edison.
warning : they’re idiots. in love. and i treasure them both more than anything. established relationship. possibly ooc eddie, i’m trying to get a feel for his character <3 <3 <3 .
note : scoured the entirely of reddit and quora to figure out how to punctuate the title 💀 . if it’s still wrong, hush! shut! zip-it! i’ve wasted 3 hours of life on the sentence already…
st masterlist | eddie munson masterlist | gif credit
pulling the blunt away from your lips to release a puff of smoke, you turned to the boy beside you. a smile stretched across you lips as you nudged him with your elbow.
“eddie,”
he continued to stare straight ahead, but gave you a half-hearted hum of acknowledgment. your face fell and you nudged him harder.
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Below are all the parts to AGM, and the little companion pieces for their universe. I love them so much, and I hope you enjoy!
*Amazing gif by the most wonderful @bestintheparsec!
»»————- ♡ ————-««
A Good Man:
PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | PART 5 | PART 6
Slices of Life:
THE SWEETEST SINS
AT THE CARNIVAL
HALLOWEEN DECORATIONS
ONLY YOU
BABY STEPS
»»————- ♡ ————-««
Javier Masterlist
Main Masterlist
@ateliefloresdaprimavera wanted, and I quote: “happy,married to the love of his life John and [reader] who’s like a daughter to Polly”
hope you like it, hun!
You marched down the street, half angry, half exhausted. Groups of kids were running up and down and you cast an eye out to check whether any of yours were there. Men tipped their caps to you as you passed and you barged your shoulder into Polly’s front door, slamming it behind you.
“I got fucking fired, didn’t I?”
“Lovely to see you too, sweetheart. Sit yourself down. Kettle’s just boiled, you can explain yourself”
You huffed, yanking your scarf off and chucking it over the back of a chair.
“Thanks Pol. Where’s the kids?”
“John’s got them”
“John’s got them?”
Polly cast a look up to you as she brewed the pot and smirked when she saw your confused look.
“He was showing Katie her numbers and the rest wouldn’t let them be, you know what they’re like”
“Sorry, no, go back – John’s got the kids? By himself?”
She chuckled to herself and slid a cup over to you.
“Sit yourself down. And explain”
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Game Of Thrones - Fic Recommendations
Main Rec Masterlist
@pascalisthepunkest
Oberyn Masterlist
@otherthingsinhead
From Marriage to Love -> reader is the youngest sister of Cersei. Tywin decides to marry her to Oberyn to have an alliance.
@forever-rogue
In Name Only -> Reader, the only daughter of late Lord and Lady Beesbury, is sent off to be married to Prince Oberyn Martell. After having been parted from her first love by her horrid mother, she refuses to marry a man she does not know or love and be pushed into a life of misery. But after threat of being cut off from everything she knew and loved, she finds herself leaving her home in Honeyholt and arriving in Sunspear, married to the Prince. Being the charming and kind Prince he is, Oberyn promises her that it does not have to be a true marriage, it can be a marriage in name only. Little does the newly anointed Lady Martell know, that being married to the Prince is so much more than she bargained for.
@ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa
Footprints in the Sand -> All you’ve ever known is the loneliness and brutality that comes with spending your days on Casterly Rock in a family that is feared throughout the seven kingdoms. But what happens when an unlikely pair of lovers narrow their eyes on you and show you that an open heart is more important than the iron throne and love runs deeper than blood?
Summary: Chrissy tries not to expect anything from Billy on Valentine’s Day. Billy manages to surprise her.
Pairing: Billy x Chrissy (OC)
A/N: Just some sweet fluffy goodness for Valentine’s Day. Takes place during SATC after Billy and Chrissy’s date. Y’know, while she was grounded.
Warnings: Swearing, smoking, teenagers being their asshole selves.
She felt like a complete idiot.
In the day after being grounded, Chrissy knew she wouldn’t trade her freedom for the night with Billy. Finally knowing him so intimately, getting what she had put off for weeks, felt like a rebirth. She was addicted to his hands on her now, and getting her next fix was the only thing on her mind.
But now, realizing that Valentine’s Day was soon approaching and she was imprisoned in the lovely craftsman on Elm Street, she was regretting everything said to her parents. Her defiance in the face of new rules felt warranted at the time. Now, it felt like she had signed her death warrant.
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Pairing: Roger Taylor x OC
Theme: Fluff
Word Count: 3100+
Written for the @bowieandqueen11 fluff writing challenge! This was such a great idea and I had so much fun writing this. I’ve got a LOT of ideas so if people enjoy this I might actually make it a multipart fic.
My prompt was: “It’s you. You’re the one I love.” Enjoy!
Brian had been the one to introduce them. He and Genevieve had met during their first year at University, and although Roger had heard her name several times, it took over a year to meet the illusive redhead. That changed late one night in November, when Brian had finally decided to bring her to the flat while Roger was home. She’d been a little shy, returning his wide welcoming grin with one a little more muted and uncertain, but after the first bottle of wine had been finished she’d loosened up a little. They’d ended up sharing the cramped loveseat together while Brian had curled up in the armchair opposite, and as their shoulders bumped and he heard her laughter, Roger swore he felt giddy, but he blamed it on the alcohol.
They drank late into the night, until she started to slump back against the couch cushions, looking between him and Brian through heavy lidded eyes, and they decided it was time to sort out sleeping arrangements. The three had drunkenly argued over who would be sleeping where - Brian obviously couldn’t sleep on the loveseat, and even she would have been uncomfortable in it. Finally, after realising none of them would be able to get a half decent night’s sleep in the living room, she’d proposed sharing a bed with one of them. Brian had locked eyes with Roger over her head - he knew what his flatmate was like - and had suggested Genevieve take his room before stumbling off down towards his room ahead of her, bouncing off the walls of the corridor like a ping pong ball. She and Roger had watched him go with matched looks of bemusement, before she bid him goodnight and followed the lanky guitarist. Roger had paused in his doorway as she approached Brian’s room, stopping just shy of the threshold. He’d seen her nose wrinkle in distaste.
“What is it?” He asked, keeping his voice soft. There was a pause, and then a giggle as she turned to face him.
“Brian snores.” She whispered, and sure enough, as Roger got closer he realised he could hear the telltale snores of a very drunk Brian, who’d apparently passed out as soon as he’d stumbled into his room.
Inviting her to sleep in his room had just been the gentlemanly thing to do, at the time. When he jerked his thumb in the direction of his silent bedroom it had been completely innocuous, but when he woke up just before six, his arms wrapped around her and her back pressed up against his chest, it felt a whole lot less innocent. During the night they’d ended up spooning, so when he woke his nose was pressed into soft auburn curls, arms wrapped loosely around her waist as he anchored her to him. As she shifted in her sleep, burying her face into the pillow, Roger felt her hips swivel a little, her ass grinding back into him, and somewhere in his still-drunk mind the thought emerged to ask if she fancied a quick shag.
Bad idea, Taylor. He scolded himself. Friends don’t fuck their roommate’s friends.
Instead, he closed his eyes and settled back into the mattress, her hair tickling his nose as he pulled her a little closer, more out of habit than anything. Not that he would have told anyone, but waking up with someone curled up in his arms was one of his favourite things in the world.
They didn’t speak about that night for a long time. Brian had no idea Genevieve had spent the night in Roger’s room instead of his - he was the last to wake up and stumble into the kitchen, where she had already prepared a pot of coffee, which she and Roger were sharing as they nursed their hangovers. When he asked her if she slept well, his back to them as he rooted around in the fridge, he missed the sly smile she and Roger shared over their coffee cups.
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Thunder ⛈
Summary: A huge storm rocks Bogota, knocking out the power. Javi has his hands full trying to soothe his frightened wife, but his patience is pretty thin, and it leads to more than she expected.
Warnings: Rough!Javi, rough sex with a timid inexperienced reader. Biting, hair pulling, Think of THAT scene in season 2...you know what I mean👀👀. Mentions of a controlling Parental figure, self doubt. VERY outdated thoughts on being a wife/women. Also age gap kinda.
Word count: 5.5k+.....i know. I write way too much.
A.N.: So this is part one of two, and I was almost going to make this as an OFC, but then I'd have to rewrite the whole thing and...no. But I am planning on turning this into a series, starting with how the two of them met, because let's face it...how the hell is Javi with a girl like this?
As the lights flickered at the Embassy, Javier realized he should have listened to you this morning. You warned him the weather was going to be bad today, but he didn't want to listen. You were standing by the open sliding glass door to the balcony, coffee in hand, watching the sun rise over Bogota. He had just stepped out of the bathroom, towl around his waist, hair still dripping from his shower, yawning, as he rounded the corner and saw you. You were awash in a pinkish golden light as you watched the horizon, making him stop in his tracks, taking you in. He quietly came to your side and placed a kiss to the top of your head, before heading into the kitchenette to grab a cup of coffee for himself.
"Come home early tonight, Javi." You had told him sternly.
He sighed, annoyed, as he put the carafe down a little harder than he ment to. "Why?" He grumbled
"The sky, look at it." He came back to your side, to see the clouds were a mix of firey oranges and blood reds. He looked back to you, a slightly perplexed look on his face, he always doubted your superstitions.
"What about it? Does that mean 'Bad Luck' where your from?" He asked, rubbing his sleepy face.
"Not exactly," you said softly, eyes fixed to the sky,"Bad weather. When the sky would turn this red in the morning we would always bring the goats inside."
He shook his head and mumbled about you being a 'Hillbilly' before walking away from you.
"Hillbilly?" You asked, eyes narrowed as you watched him return to the kitchen,"What does that mean?"
"The news said it's only going to rain today." He said matter of factly, ignoreing your question."You always think too much."
You only frowned at him, brows furrowed,"What do they know?"
Now, at quarter to 4, he was grabbing his keys and putting on his coat. Ready to bolt out of the Embassy, curseing to himself for not listening to you. Knowing he was going to be chewed out completely by you, knowing you were alone, at home, scared.
"Where the fuck are you going?" Murphy asked as he watched him gather his things.
"Home, if the powers flickering here than the power in our building is definitely out. I'm not leaving my Wife home alone in this."
"This?" Murphy scoffed," It's barely even drizzling-" he was cut off when the power went out for a second, only to return.
Javi only shook his head, and headed out.
Murphy gave up, and shrugged," Well God Speed...fucking jackass." He mumbled as he returned to his work.
Stepping outside the sky was only overcast above him, a slight drizzle falling through the humid air, granting little relief from the soup thick heat, but off in the distance a thick line of night black clouds crept closer to the city. Deep rumbles of thunder rolled through the air, the storm closing in. You were right, it was going to be bad.
By the time he made it to his block the rain had started coming down in sheets, the streetlights on the block were out, and the windows of the building were all black. He was soaked to the bone as he entered the apartment. The whole space was bathed in a warm glow, your massive collection of prayer candles the only source of light, every flat surface covered in them. He made a note to scold you on the obvious fire hazard this posed, but he was more concerned with finding you in the dim light. He called out to you, locking every lock on the door. The sound of the bedroom door opening got his attention just as you poked your head out.
"Javi?" You sniffled.
He made his way over to you, pulling you to him, not caring that he was drenched "Are you alright?" You nodded and squeezed him, dampening your clothes.
"I just....the thunder...I don't like the thunder. And then the lights went out, and I was alone-" A loud clap of thunder hit, making you jump, crying into his chest. He ushered you over to the couch and made you sit.
He looked around as he took off his jacket, rain water dripping onto the carpet, "This place looks like a Cathedral...or a low budget porno."
You give him a glare that he could barely see in the dim light, but he could definitely feel it. He grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch, and wrapped it around you before kneeling. His forehead against yours as he stroked your thigh, whispering soft words of comfort as you tried to stop sniffleing like a child.
"Its just a little thunder," he said softly, taking your hands, trying to distract you from the clap that echoed in the air," Its nothing to be afraid of, Ok?"
You collected yourself, drawing in a few shuddering breaths and nodded. He kissed your forehead before standing up, heading to the bedroom to change out of his drenched clothes. He briefly left to check on Connie, instructing you not to answer the door for anyone but him. You didn't want him to leave you alone in the dark, with the storm pounding against the windows, but you understood. Murphy would do the same for you. You just wrapped the quilt around yourself, trying to breath through each rumble, each flash.
You focused on the words Javier said to you. Its just thunder, it can't hurt you, its just noise, but you were relieved when he called to you through the door. You quickly unlocked the door, the deadbolt, and undid the chain. As soon as he stepped through, you resecured the door, Javi even wedging a dining chair under the knob, bracing the door even further.
Connie had declined the offer he gave to stay the night in his apartment, the baby was sound asleep and she didnt want to risk moving her and waking her. He tried to debate her, when the power goes out here it brings out the worst in people; break ins, looting, ect. But she insisted she'd be okay. He gave her the same instructions; bar the door, dont answer for anyone but him or Steve.
As the day drew the two of you sat at the dining room table and he taught you a few of the card games he played as a kid while you both ate cold leftovers and he sipped his whiskey. His hand gripping your thigh whenever a loud crash of thunder made you jump. He kissed your temple, and urged you to focus on the card game in front of you. You snuck glances at him from the corner of your eye,the flickering candlelight reflecting beautifully in his deep brown eyes. You shifted in your seat whenever his attention was pulled to you. Sometimes you wonder if you'll ever get used to his stare.
You were still shy around him, you've been married about half a year, yet you still felt timid. Whenever he would reach to you in the night you would freeze. Not from fear, he never frightened you, it was just his touch was so unfamiliar to you. The feeling of another person's hand on your body was an odd feeling to get used to. You're instinct would take over, making you flinch away, goosebumps breaking out across your skin as he ran a hand up your back. His voice always soft when he asked for you. You always let him, rolling onto your back, your nightgown hitched up around your waist never coming off despite his pleading, the lights off even though he begged to see you. You tried not to make too much noise as he took you, but a breathy moan always left you anyway, making you feel embarrassed.
It took a lot of coaxing from him to get you to be on top, that was only a week ago. You could hear the yearning in his voice. Looking over your shoulder to him, his brown eyes sad. You wanted to say no, that's not how you've been taught to act. But he had a rough week, and he was your husband, you were taught to do as he said. He kept the lights off, your nightgown on, you tried not to make any sounds. But, then he started guiding your hips, making you move in a way you never had before, feeling somthing familiar, your small bundle of nerves grinding against him, makeing you let out an unexpected groan. He half laughed at the sound, urged you on, told you to keep going, how well you were doing. Soon you're head was thrown back as you began to moan and you suddenly didn't mind how hard he thrusted into you. How hard he grabbed your hips, how his hands were everywhere. You weren't sure if you were suppose to enjoy it, but you did. Your mother always told you to lay on your back, and wait till it was over. But it was hard to hold on to that bit of wisdom when he was groaning under you. Now you lay in the dark every night since then, refusing his touch. You layed awake confused, guilt laying heavy on your chest, makeing your stomach ache.
As day drew to evening, you both decied to sleep on the living room floor. You made a nest of sorts out of blankets and pillows next to the couch while he blew out the candles. He agreed to leave one lit on the coffee table, but only until you fell asleep. He had stripped down to just his boxers, and you were in your thinnest nightgown.
"You could just sleep naked." Javi suggested as he laid down. You looked at him, shocked."I'm just kidding." He quickly added, before rolling his eyes.
The thunder was relentless, growing louder, shaking the windows with each roll. Each clap of thunder made you squirm, each violent flash of lightning making you whimper. He rubbed your side, giving you sleepy words of comfort, his hands occasionally dipping down to tease your breast, which you would smack away. He turned with a huff and blew out the candle, ready to sleep. His back was facing you as you lied awake. The thunder echoing through the city, the rain pounding on the windows. A flash lit up the whole room with bright white light, followed immediately with a clap of thunder that shook the building. You cried and flipped over, wrapping your arms around his torso, face buried into his back
He let out a frustrated sigh as he turned to you, this was going to be a long night. He pulled you close, kissing you in between his soft words, stroking your hair as you sniffled. His hand dipped down to your ass, grabbing a handful. You almost slapped his hands away, but the feel of him against you, his lips all over your face and neck made you feel warm, his voice deep and low lulled you into a state of hazy dreaminess.
You gently turned away from him, your back flush against him. His hands continued their groping, his big hands firmly rubbing your hips and side as he kissed your shoulder. You felt heat pool between your legs, shuddering at the feeling, slowly rubbing your thighs together, mindlessly trying to relieve the growing tension. His hands grabbed your hips as he let out a harsh groan in your ear. You felt him begin to stir as your ass had inadvertently started to grind against his growing cock. His hand left your hip and grabbed your chin making you look at him. You could barely see him in the dark, but you could tell his face had grown stern.
"So, you just want some attention then?" He growled,"hm?"
You could only bite your lip, and grind back into him again. Causing him to let out a shaky breath. His grip on your chin grew firmer.
"You're pushing it." He whispered harshly against your ear. You sighed, your eyes fluttering shut. "Or do you like this? Hm?" He let go of your face and pulled the skirt of your nightgown up, dipping his hand into your underwear he let out a harsh breath as he teased your folds, finding you wet. His other hand wound through your hair, giving it a firm tug,"You like this?" He breathed as he slowly circled your clit, you let out a whimpering moan.
"Javier." You sighed as he pulled your panties down tossing them, he frantically pulled down his boxers kicking them off.
"Yeah Baby? What do you want?" He whispered in your ear before placing sloppy kisses on your neck making you groan, his hand teasing your top thigh.
"Javi..." you gasped as he tugged your hair harder,"You, please, mi Vida. Please."
He hooked your leg over his thigh as he took himself in hand, and you let out a shaky breath as you felt him tease your entrance.You could only gasp as he slowly pushed in, hissing in your ear as you were left breathless from the stretch. He let out a deep rumbling grunt as he pushed all the way into you.
"So tight Hermosa." He spat in your ear as you could only wimper from the feel of him,"so wet," he shuddered as he slowly, almost torturous in his movement pulled out," wet for me? Hm?" He teased, pulling all the way from your core before slamming back into you. Makeing you whine,"huh?" He teased softly,"dripping just for me?"
You found your voice and gasped out,"Yes, yes, yes. For you."
He groaned into your neck, kissing it lazily and he began to piston into you, holding you tightly, rocking into you relentlessly, grunting as you could only gasp as the head of his cock struck that place inside that you had only recently discovered. It was enough to make you whine, to cry, but it wasnt enough to make you feel that blissful feeling. You needed more for that, and he knew it. He knew how to get you there, but his fingers were too busy gripping your hair, holding your thigh in place, to touch that special part of you that ached so badly right now. He was too busy, chasing his own pleasure to pay you any mind.
You reached back to him with a sob, your nails digging into his arm.
"Javi! Please! I-"
He slowed, taking in a sharp breath right by your ear, "What? What does my needy little Princessa need, hm?" He almost sounded like he was mocking you. Thunder rolled once more as you both lay still, he was impatiently waiting for you to speak. You lost your voice as you looked over your shoulder to him, lightning streaking across the sky, lighting his face for brief seconds, making him look near monstrous as he scowled at you, teeth bared, his chest rising and falling from him sharp breaths. He yanked your hair harder, makeing you wimper,"What-" he growled, thrusting into you,"Do-" you wimpered,"You-" he hit that spot again,"Need?" You shook.
You found your voice,"Touch me."
"I am touching you." He grinned.
"Javi, please don't-" you were cut off with a gasp as he pulled out of you, releasing his grip from you as he moved onto his knees. Sighing you rolled over to your back, running a shaking hand over your face as you fought to catch your breath. His chest heaved as he breathed harshly through his nose. His eyes glaring down at you in the dark. Another roll of thunder echoed through the city as you sat up on your elbows, "Javi?"
He grabbed your arm and pulled you up on your knees, pulling you flush against him. You instinctively reached up to him to find your balance, wrapping your arms around his neck. He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes, his nose brushing yours, his breath against your skin. He grabbed your ass firmly, before kissing you, gently at first, his tounge teasing your lips open. You allowed your lips to open for him with a sigh that quickly turned into a sharp cry as he bit into your bottom lip. His short nails digging into your ass as he licked where his teeth had pierced your tender lip. You almost pushed him away, but he attached his lips to your neck, kissing, biting then licking away the pain. His hands under your nightgown working it off of you, pulling away from you just enough to remove it, tossing it to the side before he latched onto your breast.
Thunder cracked though the air again as you whined, your eyes squeezed shut. You weren't sure what you were feeling; pain, pleasure, fear, no matter what you were still dripping as he bit your nipple. Thick fingers ghosting down your belly until they reached where you ached the most. Your nails dug into his shaggy hair as he teased your slit, fingers circling your clit as you gasped. Your thighs shaking as you finally felt some relief. Sighing his name, head lolling to the side, as you felt the approach of that feeling that had long been forbidden for you to feel. Then suddenly, it was gone.
"Javi!" You nearly cried, why was he being so cruel to you tonight? He sat up fully meeting your eyes, gripping your face with a strong hand. Lightning lit up the room, his face was almost unmoved by you're shocked expression. You grabbed onto his wrist,"Javi?"
He loosened his grip, and in one quick movement, he moved aside, gripped your hair, and shoved you down onto your stomach. The air was almost knocked out of you as you landed on the carpet, you scrambled to get up but he only held you down firmer, looking over your shoulder at him. He maneuvered behind you, grabbing your hips and pulling them up until you were on your elbows and knees.
You swallowed hard, your eyes wide, body going cold as he glared down at you. You wanted to sit up, tell him not to take you this way. But then a flash lit the room, and you saw the way he gazed down at you, how his eyes were filled with lust for you, the look of desperation on his face as his took himself in his hand. He shook his head subtlety as he looked at the state of you, finally, finally spread out in front of him. The way he always wanted to see you. Any fear you felt was suddenly replaced with searing heat, your core aching, clenching on nothing as you began to push back against him, wanting to feel him inside you. Needing it. With a sharp breath from him he pushed into you, and he waisted no time, his hips snapping against you as he thrusted into your slick walls.
You're eyes were squeezed shut as you mewed for him. It never felt like this, the pressure from his cock hitting in such a different way, you couldn't stop your whimpers, you used the Lord's name in vain without a care, you swore, making him groan at the vulgar words that spilled from your mouth. Never have you felt this way, behaved so wantonly, you begged for more, harder. And he gave it to you. You lost all control as he pulled you up against him, bracing one arm across your breast, holding you in place as he groaned and bit into your neck and shoulder. His other hand snaking down and circling your bundle of nerves that has been so neglected. You cry,and writh against him, his name a chant as you felt that ungodly yet blissful feeling approach. You screamed, not caring that the thunder didn't cover it, not caring if the neighbors heard, didn't even care if God himself heard. You were in the throws and nothing mattered except for Javier's talented fingers and his harsh groans in your ear as he neared his own release. He followed soon after, right after you buckled against him. He let you crumble back to your hands and knees, forehead against the ground as he continued, hips stuttering as he groaned through it. Until his breath hitched with a swear and his hot seed filled you. He breathed out a few more swears until he shakily pulled out of you, collapsing onto his side as you slowly melted onto the floor, ebbing in and out of consciousness, wimpering as you began to throb.
The last thing you remember was his shaking fingers pushing your hair to the side. The whispering of your name, his lips against your face. Your eyelids softly closed and you found your rest, the thunder faint, the rain a mere tap against the windows, calm settled over the city as you fell into sleep.
***
The sun rose, the unbearable humidity had broke and a cool breeze followed in the wake of the storm. The curtains gently swaying from the morning air flowing through the open windows. Javier groaned as he stretched, his back sore from sleeping on the floor, limbs tangled in the nest of blankets. As soon as he opened his eyes he knew he over slept. The sun was high in the morning sky. He bolted up, and found you seated on the couch in one of his t shirts holding the leaf of one of your aloe plants in your hand.
"Steve stopped by, he said don't come in." You said, your voice sleepy and raspy. "The first floor of the Embassy flooded, no work until its cleaned up."
He sighed and rubbed his face.
"Powers still out?" He asked groggily.
"Yes," you answered, he grumbled and you rolled your eyes. "You'll be fine." You tutted. He turned his head and shot you a look. You only shrugged and continued rubbing your aloe plant on your skinned knees.
He watched you as you winced, guilt hanging over him as he looked at you. Your lip was swollen, neck bruised, elbows and knees rashed with rug burn. He could only imagine the bruises he left behind on your hips. He cleared his throat.
"You okay?" He tentatively asked.
You froze as you thought, looking to him his brown eyes were wide and sad, but then again they were always sad. You turned away from him and nodded. Not wanting to have this conversation, not right now. But he came over to you anyway, kneeling in front of you, taking your hand.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, kissing your fingers" I dont know what came over me last night, I never..." he brushed his thumb over your bruised lip," I cant believe I...I'll never do that again. I promise." He said sincerely.
You swallowed hard, not wanting to look at him. Your eyes were dry and puffy from the crying you did the day before, but still they they stung with the threat of tears.
"Mi vida, please, talk to me, are you ok?"
"I'm ok, Javi,"you said quietly," I'm just...confused."
He rested his chin on top of your knee, his hands moving down to your calves, fingertips brushing over your skin.
"Confused about what, hermosa?"
You gingerly traced the cooling plant against your scuffed elbow, so many thoughts bouncing around your head.
"I dont know." You finally breathed.
"Yes you do, just tell me."
You took a deep breath.
"It's just...last night you were so...rough. So mean. You hurt me, Javi."
"I'm sorry," he said kissing your knee, "I swear, I will never do that again. Everything will be your call, how you want it-"
"I liked it." You breathed, your face burning, before looking away.
He blinked and asked you to repeat yourself because there was no way he heard you right.
"I liked it, Javi. I know I shouldn't, but I did. I liked it."
He sat back, eyes wide as he looked up at you. He nodded trying to comprehend what you said, not even knowing how to respond. His prudish, proper, Church every Sunday, Confession every Wednesday, and Saturday night Mass, makes him leave the room when you change, wont kiss in public wife just admitted she liked being thrown around like a rag doll. He felt himself begin to stir, and given his state of undress there was no way to hide it.
"What do you mean 'You shouldn't'? Shouldn't what?"
You paused, trying to collect your thoughts.
"You know what I mean." You hung your head low.
He was quiet for a moment, brows furrowed trying to find the right thing to tell you.
"Mi vida," he said softly,"enjoying...sex with me doesn't make you a bad person."
"Then why do I feel this way? Why do I always feel like I'm doing something wrong?"
He kept his mouth shut. He wanted to go on a rant; about your crazy mother, how she had you brainwashed, how he loves you. He only took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He told you to look him in the eyes as he gripped your hands.
"You haven't done anything wrong. Nothing. Nothing you have done is wrong." He said firmly, hoping it would finally sink it,"Its okay to want this." He tucked your hair behind your ear as you looked away again. He tilted your chin up to look him in the eyes."look at me, I need you to understand its ok to want this."
You nod, you want it to sink in, listen to him, but you still doubted. You just want the conversation to end.
"So," Javi began after a few moments of silence,"Does this mean...we can start having sex with the lights on?" He asked, half joking while palming your thighs.
You pulled your legs underneath you.
"I dont know."
He grinned up at you," Yes you do." He said as he sat up his nose brushing your cheek. You fought a smile as his mustache tickled you, his lips peppering kisses along your jaw making his way to the spot below your ear that makes you squirm.
"Javi..." you shudder,"I'm still sore."
He kissed your lips tenderly,minding your bruises.
"I know, Baby," he cooed,"let me make you feel better."
You blinked," I already took an asprin."
He laughed, resting his head on your shoulder, his hands still rubbing your thighs.
"That's not what I ment," he smiled, as he kissed your lips again."let me taste you." He purred.
Your eyes went wide, it was early morning, broad daylight. "Um..."
"C'mon baby, let me see you," he whispered raising an eyebrow, his hands skimming underneath the shirt you wore. You sighed against his lips, feeling warm inspite of the tenderness you felt in your core.
You threaded your fingers through his hair,"Will you gentle this time?"
"Do you want gentle?" He asked.
You thought for moment," This time. This time I do."
He smiled with a sigh," Then I'll be gentle mi vida. I'll-"
A pounding knock on the door interrupted him. You clung to him with a gasp as you both froze.
"Peña!" Murphy's voice boomed through the door,"Open up, I know you're in there."
Javi swore and dropped his head with a groan as he left your side to get the door. You squeaked.
"Javi!" You giggled, covering your face. He looked back to you,"um..." he looked down and realized he was naked, not just naked but he was semi aroused. He sighed and grabbed the quilt from the couch and wrapped it around his waist as he made his way to the door as you laughed.
"What do you want, Murph?" He grumbled when he opened the door.
Murphy took one look at him and rolled his eyes.
"Jesus," Murphy mumbled, trying to look anywhere except at Javier,"You couldn't of put pants on to get the door?"
Javier just shrugged and nodded over his shoulder towards you. Your face burned, eyes not knowing where to go when Steve saw you, awkwardly giving you a wave as you pulled the shirt you wore further down your legs.
"We got some intel I need to discuss with you, so if you wouldn't mind letting me in, and for the Love of God put on pants, I'd very much like to discuss it with you."
Murphy came in with a milk crate filled with papers, setting it down on your kitchen counter. You kept your head down while you awkwardly began scooping up the blankets, pillows, and discarded clothing from the floor, before following Javier into the bedroom. He quickly changed into his jeans and a short-sleeved shirt.
"I'm sorry, baby," he said, giving you a kiss to the top of your head. "I'll make it up to you."
"Its ok, I think I'm just going to lay down."
"We wont make too much noise," he promised, stroking your arm," Do you need anything?"
You only shook your head. With one last kiss he left you, shutting the door behind him. You made the bed, opened up the bedroom window to let the cool breeze in, and stripped off his shirt. You nestled into the sheets naked your hips tender, lips sore, elbows and knees stinging. You wanted to rest, to shut your eyes and sleep but your thoughts just kept bouncing around your head.
Your stomach twisted as you thought back to the words of advice your mother gave you as a girl. How last night you defied everything she taught you, instructed you, demanded of you. You never questioned her, never, but now you had the sinking feeling that maybe she was wrong. Maybe everything she told you about being a wife, or just even being a women, was wrong. You let your husband use you like a whore, he took you like an animal, he was rough and cruel. Worst of all you enjoyed it, you liked how he gripped you, how he groaned, how he breathed your name through ragged breath. Enjoyed how it felt when he was behind you.
You shifted under onto your side, listening to the low murmur of the men talking in the other room. Heard Javis grumblings through the door. Your marriage wasn't what you expected. You always expected to marry someone closer to your age, he'd have a humble job, a humble home, you'd do everything for him; cook, clean, lay on your back,push out babies. You'd live to serve him, and your children, and he'd provide while you looked the other way when he spent his evenings with his mistress. After all that's how your parents marriage was, so why wasn't your marriage anything like that?
Javi hated when you did everything for him, hated that you tried to make yourself his servant, he enjoyed a hot meal to come home to and appreciated your efforts, but that's not how he expected you to be. You heard Steve's voice, and you wondered to yourself if he treated Connie the way Javi treated you. You never quite got over the shock of finding out Connie still worked. She didn't stay at home with the baby, and be the housewife you were always taught to be. Being in Bogota was a culture shock, life was so different than your childhood village. So many women out on their own, not having a man to answer to. This feeling of liberation was hard to accept, you felt more confused each day, not knowing what to do with yourself besides listening to your Mother's voice in your head, always chastising you for everything you did.
Eventually you dozed off, giving your mind a rest, your body a chance to relax and heal. Foggy memories of the night finding it's way to your dreams. The sound of him groaning your name echoing in your dreams, you woke feeling your body humming. You felt a slickness between your legs, you expected to see blood on your fingers when reached down, but there was no blood, only the evidence of your longing. You wanted him. You've always wanted him. You spent all this time denying him. Denying a man who puts his life on the line everyday, a man who promised to always protect you, and you won't even give yourself to him. It wasn't fair. You werent being fair, not just to him but yourself.
You heard him laugh in the other room, and it shot straight to your core. You sighed at the feeling, the scent of him was on the sheets, the sound of his voice ringing in your ears. You needed to feel his skin under your fingertips, your lips, inside you again. You wanted him, you wanted him anyway he'd take you. And you were going to have him again before the day was over. Thats what you decided, what you decided it for yourself.
Thank You for reading🥰🥰
Part 2 coming soon...
@zeldasayer @thick-dick-din-daddy-djarin
It was Friday. Finally.
Billy had been watching your neon pink lips move along to the gum being chewed behind it all through out last period.
He just wanted them on him now.
He was curious to know if it was cinnamon or bubblegum
Keep reading
Words: 8.4k
Rating: E
Warnings: shooting, non-descriptive death, SMUT, fingering, mentions of masturbation, AND masturbation now that I remember, penetration, creampie! just general filth, gambling?
a/n: SO literally nobody asked for this, but I decided to turn NO REFUNDS into the prologue of a short series (you don’t really need to read NO REFUNDS, it’s only for context.) Anywayyys heavy feelings, heavy plot, heavy smut. Have fun.
……………
Maker, you need to start cheating. That way you wouldn’t be in the middle of a staring contest with your cards, like you can change their colorful drawings and numbers if you only glare hard enough. You’ve never been particularly good at sabacc, but a little luck wouldn’t hurt, especially since this is the third round in a row you lose. Duma deals the last couple of cards across the coal black table and stacks the deck, signaling the start of the game.
Well, you suppose it doesn’t really matter; you doubt your sabacc buddies have better hands. These days, everyone in Nevarro is short on luck. Luck and food and water. Others are less pessimistic: As soon as Greef Karga glances at his hand he leans back on the carcass of a cantina booth and slaps his belly. “Ha!” he bellows, “by the end of this round, you filthy gutter womp rats will have to borrow from your womp rat mothers to pay me.”
“Quit bluffing, Karga. We know you don’t have shit,” Cara mutters. She picks up her cards and pulls a face like she bit on lemon, but still the veteran goes all in, pushes forward a couple of stabilizing coils, an identity beacon you could’ve sold at a decent price some months ago and—maker—even a pouch of nova crystal dust. Nobody here is stupid enough to gamble with food, but you’re surprised that even nova has lost its worth and been demoted to casino chip status. “This place smells like shit.”
“Bad bluff, piss-poor trash talk too,” you taunt. “Looks like all that time doing business with Imperials smoothed your brain, Karga.”
Keep reading
hello, nurse
[whiskey x reader]
author’s note: yaaaay i have finally written for whiskey. hope y’all enjoy
word count: 1,080
Keep reading
pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female! reader
warnings: angst, sad Aemond, minor spoilers from hotd s2 ep 2, 3, and 4, not much smut but MDNI!!
WC: 4517
summary: when the world turned their back on him, she didn’t.
Don't know what I wanted, I have a memory
Throughout Aemond’s life, he remembers how much he wanted to be seen.
By his father,
by his mother,
by his brother,
by the whole world.
He wasn’t the heir to the throne, he didn’t have a dragon like his brothers or sister. He was weak and nothing. He spend his days being teased and bullied relentlessly by his brother and nephews. They had venomous tongues and big sharp teeth. He hated the way he is.
But when the world turned their back on him, one person remained.
She was a Tyrell, born not long after his mother gave birth to his youngest brother Daeron. His grandsire and mother are close to her parents since the Tyrells and Hightowers are two houses that are closely related.
When he first met her back in oldtown, he saw her as a meek and shy young girl. He hated it. Because it reminded him of himself. But his hatred grew when he saw how well she gets along with Aegon, Daeron, even Helaena. Maybe he doesn’t hate her, maybe he just hates how he’s nothing like her.
Likeable.
Then it all changed in one summer evening.
He was reading at the great library of oldtown, away from the world as he read about his great ancestors of old valyria and dragons. Dragons he longed to have. Like Aegon with sunfyre, Helaena with Dreamfyre, even Daeron with Tessarion. Then he heard a thud.
Looking back from his seat, he saw no one was in the empty library but him.
When he returned to his book, he heard another thud.
Shutting the book with frustration, he began to look for the source of the sound that disturbed his peace. Walking deeper between old tall shelves, he took a turn to the left and saw…her.
Younger and smaller than him, but the Tyrell girl grunts as she climbs the bookshelf. Strong but mighty. The way her silly tongue sticks out as she’s so persistent to reach a book at the tallest shelf. He cleared his throat as he looked down, noticing many books had been scattered around the floor for her to climb.
She turned to him with a surprise stare.
“Prince Aemond!”
As a child, she squeaks like a squirrel
Aemond thought to himself.
“What are you doing up there?” Aemond asks curiously. “I..I’ve been trying to reach that book!” She says as she still tries to reach the book at the highest shelf.
“You will hurt yourself,” Young Aemond sighs.
“Can you help me, my prince?” she asks as she jumps down from the shelf.
“No-“
“Please!”
“Absolutely not-“
“You’re far much taller than me!” She says pointing at his height.
Even as children, he has always been taller than her.
Aemond sighs, knowing what he’s about to do.
And he did it.
Not for his own pride, but for her.
“Oh thank you!” She thanked him with a smile when he easily reached and took the book she’s looking for. The girl hugged the huge book in her arms. “It wasn’t a big deal, whatever,” Aemond says, acting nonchalant while he dusts off his clothes. “It is though, I wouldn’t have been able to reach that book if you weren’t here!” She says with a bright smile.
Heat rose up to his cheeks. No one ever ‘relied’ on him before.
“Biarvose,” he muttered under his breath, not wanting her to know. But she heard him and tilted her head with curiosity. “Are you speaking high valyrian? It sounds lovely! Can you teach me?!” She asks cheerfully.
“What, no I’m not-“
“Please! I want to at least learn something new!” The girl says excitedly. Before he could answer, she grabbed his arm and dragged him to their seats in front of the fireplace. “I’m a fast learner, I promise!” She says as she sits down beside him with a smile.
Can’t believe he’s doing this.
But…it felt nice. The way she wanted him to teach her. She could’ve asked Aegon or Daeron…yet she chose him.
“It’s…”
He mentioned her name. He liked how her name rolled off his tongue.
“…Tyrell, right?”
She nods.
And since that day, and for the whole summer he taught her high valyrian in the library. Word by word, he was patient to teach her. He hates to admit it but she actually was a fast learner.
She was his first true friend.
She was the first person who makes him feel like he has a purpose in life.
Until they took his eye.
Just a year after he knew her, by the time he turned 10 he had claimed Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in Westeros. But for a price, which was his eye.
He became the same boy who hated the world.
Never came back to oldtown or any places except the red keep. Afraid what the world might say about him. How ugly he looked with his scar, one of his eye missing, but most of all he was afraid of what SHE might say about him. Afraid of rejection, how she’ll stop spending time with him.
His thoughts were interrupted when his mother came inside his chambers. Bringing in the young Tyrell.
“Aemond, she’s here to see you,” Alicent says, in a slight pleading tone. For he has shut himself out from the world when the maester stitched him. It hurts and it will hurt even more if he knew that all that people will see in him was a monster.
“Go away,” he says coldly, his chair facing away from the door.
“Are you feeling any better?” Her sweet gentle voice asks as Alicent has her arm around the little girl.
Sometimes he just wants to run and hug her for comfort. For she was his escape from this cruel world. Her optimism makes him alive. He didn’t want to lose that.
“I said go away,” his hands gripped the arms of the chair.
“I brought you-,”
“I SAID GO AWAY!” He shrieks, stepping down from his chair and throwing his cup at her direction as he turns around, accidentally showing her his scar. His true self.
Alicent quickly tried to shield the young girl as she screamed. Shielding her from him.
From him.
“Aemond!” Alicent scolded her son.
Yet his mother’s scolding didn’t matter to him. He saw his friend’s…his only friend terrified expression. He scared her. He hurt her. Just like how the world hurt him.
He took a step back.
“I…I’m sorry,” he says lowly before returning to his chair.
He wanted to cry. But it hurts if he does.
Then he heard slow and tiny footsteps.
And she…she placed a toy dragon at the table. As her hands tremble.
“I carved Vhagar for you…father taught me how to carve.”
The young girl says bravely. Yet Aemond wasn’t brave enough to meet her eyes. Not after he hurt her. So he says nothing.
“Get well soon, my prince,” she curtsied and hurriedly returned to the Queen. Leaving him alone in his cold and empty room. Only the sound of crackling fire filled the room. Aemond loved silence but this time…he hated it.
So he reached out, taking the wooden figure of his dragon into his hands. And by the time Queen Alicent returned to his chambers, she found her son asleep in his chair.
Holding the little dragon in his hands, close to his chest.
-
Back at that party, I was all over her
The death of Prince Lucerys Velaryon was at his fault and he couldn’t deny it any more.
Kinslayer. Thats what they call him now.
His betrothal to one of Borris Baratheon’s daughter came to an end once Vhagar snapped her sharp teeth onto Vermax’s body. No one wanted to marry a Kinslayer.
A crippled and a kinslayer.
What a fucking combo.
But he firmly believed that everything that has happened to him was meant to be. Because if it weren’t for it, he wouldn’t be shaped as he is now. And he has to be better. Every sword training, every lessons, and at every war..he must be the best.
But that little boy inside of him still clings onto him till this very day.
Especially when his mother mentioned her name.
For he shall now marry her to strengthen the allieagance between their house and the Tyrells. They needed this. And he shall do it for them.
He convinced himself it wasn’t personal and he doesn’t wish to meet her and just arrange the marriage ceremony. Secretly afraid for what she’ll think of him now.
A kinslayer, a cripple…a monster.
For they have not met again since that very night in his chambers.
And when he saw her gain at the grand sept for their wedding, may the gods help him.
She has grown into a woman. Not a young child anymore.
She smiled to her family, giving them a nervous thin smile.
Does he makes her nervous?
Does he scare her?
The ceremony was done in the sept. Not a grand wedding like any royal ceremony would be for they are at war and it’s ignorant if they host a grand wedding in the midst at war.
He couldn’t help but to stare how different she is now. How reserved and mature her body language is as she gracefully walks around with her long dress dragging through the cold stones of the sept. She was…beautiful.
“My prince,” she says as she curtsied. Even her voice has changed. Now it felt as if honey were dripping down her tongue.
“My Lady,” he greets back stoically. Not wanting her or anyone to read his mind.
“How are you, my prince?” she whispers as the ceremony begins. Still making small talk as always, yet he yearns for it. He’s deeply grateful that she still wants to talk to him. Yet it has been awhile since he properly talked to her, it made him nervous. “I am well,” he whispers back. His healthy eye looked into hers as they were pronounced husband and wife. He finds nothing but nostalgia in her eyes. She is just how he remembered her.
-
We didn't make out or do anything
I just remember I was lonely
He didn’t like the idea of a bedding ceremony.
Where people would see him…and her.
It’s unnatural…and unfitting.
So he ordered for the bedding ceremony not to be done. But he promised that he shall take her that night and they can inspect the bedsheets in the morning.
When he stepped into her chambers, he found her anxiously standing beside the bed. A weird tense atmosphere swept the room.
“I..,” she wants to speak.
“I would like to say thank you for…not letting the bedding ceremony to happen-“
What is this? Does she not want everyone to see us together?
His anxious mind and overthinking took power over him.
“Who said it was done for you?” He snapped at her as he closed the door.
Shit. He did it again.
And she was quiet once more.
I scared her again.
“But…still…I still want to thank you…my pr-“
“Husband,” he sternly says walking past her.
“Pardon?”
He took a jug filled with wine and poured it onto his empty cup. He at least needed a cup of wine if he wanted to bed her right.
“I am your husband now, am I not?” He asks, not looking at her.
“Oh yes…husband,” she says with a nod, fiddling her skirt.
Aemond turned around and took off his attire and was left with his tunic, yet she just stood there beside the bed, not being able to move.
She was nervous.
He looked at her, unsure what he should do. Should he comfort her? Should he take her quickly so they didn’t have to endure this pain together? No- no no no he didn’t want to hurt her.
Then he saw her slowly opening her nightgown. Her hands trembling like when he hurt her as a child. She slips her nightgown over his chest-.
It’s been awhile since he saw a woman’s body.
The last time was…..was…
“Stop.”
She curiously looked up to him, only halfway through from being naked. “I-is there something wrong?-.”
“No,” he quickly answered, looking down with shame.
Yes. There is something wrong.
When Aegon took him to that brothel…at the age of 13..he…he couldn’t- it scarred him.
She’s not like them. She’s not like that whore.
It’s only her, it’s just her!
His mind battling inside his head as he stood at the other side of the bed. He blamed Aegon for ruining something that should be meaningful for a man and woman. Ruining something that should’ve been meaningful for him and her. He blamed the brothel, he blamed his brother, and foremost he blamed himself.
He can’t bed her.
Not like this.
“We must…do our duty,” he says, trying to mask his insecurity and vulnerability in front of her. Trying to mask the same 13 year old boy who was terrified when he stepped into the brothel for the first time.
He didn’t dare to look up. He didn’t want to see her being disgusted by hi-
“Yet you don’t want to,” her voice was gentle and kind. Not a hint of mockery at sight.
“I-“
“I don’t want to do this either.”
He looks up, finding her shielding her chest with her nightgown. That sight aroused him terribly. He wanted to touch her, wanted to make her happy and satisfied. He wanted to make her smile. Yet he saw the same little girl that admired him as a child. He didn’t want to fuck her, he wanted to make love with her.
But he didn’t know how to.
So he just…stood there. The two of them stood there and said nothing.
Just as he thought all hope was lost, she puts on her nightgown and stepped away from the bed.
She’s leaving.
She’s disgusted by me.
“What are you-.”
She took a butter knife and roughly slits her palm, letting blood drip to the bed.
He stared at her.
“There. They’ll think I lost my maidenhead,” she says with a little smile plastered on her face. “No one will know.”
His eye drifts into her still bleeding palm. He groaned walking towards her, ripping a cloth and wrapped her bleeding palm with it. “Mittys,” he muttered under his breath. She chuckles, “You haven’t taught me that word yet.”
And for the first time in a lifetime, a genuine amused smirk was plastered across his face. “Stay still,” he ordered, tightening the cloth on her palm.
When he was done, she gazed up at him for a moment. “How long has it been?” She suddenly asked. “I have not been counting,” Aemond replied, still holding her scarred hand. She slowly then pulled him to bed, sitting down. “You must stay for awhile. Or else they’d be suspicious.”
Gods be good.
She was too kind for him.
And he joined her, laying on the bed side by side. He wonders if she’s still afraid of him as their hands brushed against each other. He never realized how much he craved for her touch. Wondering what it feels like to be held by her. Would she be gentle? Or would she push him away?
“Usōven,” he muttered, looking at her. Apologizing for that night.
She turned her head to look at him. And smiled.
“I forgive you.”
-
I guess I am always, it's not a problem
It's just something, I got used to it
It got worse.
His yearning for her.
He was afraid to touch her, for he did not want to touch her like a whore. She was his equal. He didn’t want to hurt her.
So he lets all of his frustration to Madame Sylvie. He was attached to her even before his wife returned to his life, yet her presence made him worse. With the war…and his guilt for the death of Lucerys…and now the presence of her…it frustrates him. Every single time he fucks that whore, he thinks of her. He imagined that it was her in bed.
Imagined that it was her holding him.
At Least he could keep her safe from him.
He didn’t mean for it to happen. He never meant for it to happen in the first place.
But when he returned from his sins back to his sacred sanctuary, he finds nothing but horror in the keep.
They murdered his nephew.
Prince Jaehaerys.
A son for a son.
It was his fault his nephews were dead.
It was supposed to be him who’s dead. Whose head should be beheaded. Not his nephew. Not anyone.
After inspecting his chambers, he rushed to his wife’s room. Finding her in bed, holding Helaena and Jaehaera as the three girls cried. He saw how terrified the three of them were, but he noticed how she cradled his sister and his niece. Whispering nothing but reassurance to them. “It’s okay, they’re gone now…you’re both safe,” he heard her. She has always taken care of Helaena and the kids well.
Noticing his presence, his wife looked up, finding him unable to move from the doorway. She lets go of her grieving sister in law and niece as she walks to him. Her eyes were teary and red.
Oh how he hates to see her cry.
He looks down at her, cupping her cheek with one hand.
“Where were you?” Her question rang through his ear as her voice cracked on the last word she spoke. Guilt consumed him- no. Guilt starts to eat him slowly but surely. Eating him alive as her wife, her sister, his niece, and his brother grieve for the death of the young innocent prince. He couldn’t say a word, instead hugging his wife tight as she cried into his chest. Sobbing loudly as the castle was filled with darkness. Not a light of hope in sight.
“No one will hurt you. I swear it to you. I’m here..i’m here,” he whispers to his wife as she cried.
He might’ve gotten used to the pain people put on him, but he realized that he would never ever get used to seeing her cry.
He would never let anyone hurt her.
He would protect her from the cruel world.
Even from himself.
-
Every stranger makes me feel safer
And every person seems more beautiful
“I do regret that business with Luke, I lost my temper that day. I am sorry for it.”
“They used to tease me, y’know? Because I was different.”
He knew he should be seeking comfort from his wife, but he couldn’t. As much as she makes him feel like him…he was still afraid his wife would see right through him. To judge him. So he couldn’t. Not to her.
He feels safer in the arms of a whore, who has no power over him. While his wife, she had all the power to control him if she could.
Nights went on and he sneaked out secretly. And no one knew. He was safe. His secret was safe.
Until Aegon…had to ruin everything like he always did.
Humiliating him was always his brother’s hobby.
Blinded with anger, he stomps and storms back to the keep. Wanting his brother and the world to disappear. He wanted to be alone. He hated everything. Yet he didn’t realize that a certain someone was still awake.
Closing Helaena’s bedroom door, lady Tyrell exits the queen’s bedroom for Helaena finds comfort from her sister in law. Just as she wanted to call it a night, she’s standing face to face with no other than her husband.
“Aemond,” she says in surprise.
He froze. He didn’t know what to say. All the rage and humiliation were gone in an instant. His face was covered with guilt and fear. “Wife,” he answered with a hint of anxiety dripping down his tongue.
“Where have you been?” She chuckled, thinking that he was just out for a walk or something. In her mind, she would never ever even think that Aemond would be doing things like that behind her back.
Aemond stiffened, unable to answer. Before his brother always had to ruin the show.
“Look who it is!” Aegon says as his kingsguard follows behind him. “Your husband here…well, how do I say it..ah yes, was in the whore house, dear sister,” Aegon cackles, nudging Aemond’s arm before earning a hard punch from Aemond.
He saw red. He saw red in his eyes. He hated his brother. He hates him. He should’ve shut up. He never should’ve brought him to that place in the first place, he should’ve never returned to that place!-
“What..?” His wife’s voice slightly trembled.
Even when Aegon was in pain on the ground, he cackled. Obviously still drunk. “You heard me! He was fucking that whore like a hound!” Aegon continues to say and starts to make howling sounds.
Aemond saw how she started to grip her nightgown, her hands trembling. Her eyes were teary, not wanting to cry.
He disappointed her.
Disappointing the only person who has faith in him.
“I…I must go…sleep well your grace and….husband,” she says nervously as she curtsied at the two brothers before walking away.
He watched her walk away. Not daring to chase after her or call out her name. He wouldn’t dare, for he knew he disappointed her deeply. He hurt her again. Like how he did as a child. And now he’s sure she won't come back to him. This was the start of him losing her.
-
She hasn't talked to him since then. What used to be civil and peaceful. Her small talks and smiles weren’t present at his presence. She avoided him at all times. To the point where enough was enough. He couldn’t live like this. He needed her to talk to him. He doesn’t want his marriage to end like his father and his mother. He cares for her…he…he…he loves her.
And when he blinks, he finds himself standing in front of her chamber doors one morning.
He knocked gently.
“Come in,” he heard her sweet voice that he missed from her room.
When he enters, he received her sad and surprised expression.
“Husband,” she greeted stoically, looking away.
He then realized how her closet was wide open and empty. Her clothes scattered on the bed as he saw her stuffing her dresses onto her..
“What’s this?!” He protested.
“Mother said it’s not safe for me to be in kings landing. War is coming and…I must go home,” she says in a sad tone.
His heart sank deep hearing her words.
She’s leaving.
She’s leaving him.
“You are not going anywhere,” he insisted, roughly taking dresses out of her hands.
“Aemond-“
“Not on my sight!-“
“But Aemond-!”
“You are safe here! With me! With Vhagar!” He exclaims roughly, taking out of her dresses from her trunk.
“Aemond, stop it!”
Yet Aemond does not answer.
“I will keep you safe. Vhagar will keep you safe, no one will never hurt you-“
“But you did!”
Silence.
Gods, he hated the silence between them.
“You don’t understand,” he grunts as he grips the bedsheets. “How can I understand if you never let me in?!” She protested, tears streaming down from her eyes. He doesn’t even want to look at her. He didn’t want to see her cry.
“See? You wouldn’t even look at me! You wouldn’t touch me, you wouldn’t kiss me, you…,” she points out.
Aemond sighs in defeat.
It was all his fault.
But then he roughly took off his eyepatch, towering over her, gripping her wrist as he showed his sapphire eye to her. “And would you? Would you touch this monster, hm? Kiss this husband of yours who’s the reason why two innocent boys are killed? The reason why this war STARTED IN THE FIRST PLACE?!”
She flinched.
She closed her eyes, scared…waiting for him to do something to her.
It broke him.
“I…I..forgive me, I..,” Aemond lowers down his voice and hand, releasing her. Now guilt and shame has finally eaten him whole. He hurt her. Again and again. She deserved better.
Then came a knock on the door.
“Sorry for interrupting, my prince but..the council awaits your presence,” A guard said to him.
“I’ll be there.”
-
Aemond took his time and walked out of her chambers with her as her trunks were carried out from her room. It was present how there’s a gap between them. He wanted to hold her hand terribly, but he couldn’t. Not after what he did to her.
He felt how people were looking. Eyes on them as they walked through the halls of the red keep. He tried one more time to reach his pinky finger to hers but when they touched, she pulled her hand away to rub her other arm.
He lost her.
He probably never had her in the first place.
When they reached her carriage, he didn’t want to tear his eyes from her.
“I would, y’know?” She suddenly says with her gentle voice.
“Pardon?”
“I would…kiss and touch you,” she repeats. “The monster you said of…is still my husband. You’re still my husband,” she emphasizes.
Her words touched him somewhere in the deepest parts of his heart that no one has touched before. It made him frozen and unable to move a single muscle or bone in his body.
“I know that I am not what you needed, and I know that I’m nothing to you-.”
She was terribly wrong. How wrong she was. She meant the world to him.
She was…everything to him.
“I hope you will find what you’re looking for in the future.”
He didn’t want anyone but her.
They looked back and saw people watching.
They’re waiting.
They’re watching.
She has always been far much braver than him. So she walked back to him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek, just beneath his eye patch. Beneath his scar.
“Geros ilas, my love…avy jorrāelan,” she whispered to him before pulling away and stepping into her carriage without looking back.
And little did Aemond know, that will be the last time he would ever get to see her.
In his heart, he blamed the world again.
He blamed his brother.
He blamed everyone and everything that took her away from him.
Maybe in another life, the war wouldn’t have happened, Aegon wouldn’t have took him to the brothel, Lucerys didn’t take his eye, and maybe.. he could hold her like a normal person would. Maybe they’d have children…and maybe…maybe she’d stay.
But right now, he walks back to the keep to assemble their army. To rook’s rest. To prove his brother and the whole world. To win this war.
For her.
a/n: Hello everyone! I’m Alice and thank you so much for reading! Fyi I used to write on tumblr but my old account was like semi suspended? Idk I couldn’t interact with people, I couldn’t comment on people’s post so now I’m here and uhh hi🥹I hope you enjoy this one shot and I’m only gonna write fics mainly about the Ewanverse so you’re in for a ride🫶🏻🤗 I’m gonna write more in the future and thank you for sticking around until the end of this fic! Thank you once againnn💞💞