#artist: jack stauber's micropop | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

huramuna · 6 months

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blue dove - oneshot request.

dark aemond x best friend / modern

request: Helloo! Can I get a dark modern aemond who is in love with best friend reader and is possessive and jealous whenever reader meets a guy and aemond does everything he can to keep reader to himself only with smut plss😊😊🙏

warnings: smut (specifics under the cut), possessive aemond, gaslighting, manipulation, toxic dynamic, aemond is his own warning here. reader isn't described, she/her pronouns. work is 18+, minors do not interact or you shall be smited.

word count: 3.7k

a/n: this is my first time posting smut & also writing it in a long time-- leave a like and comment if you liked it! <;3

paparazzi - lady gaga • baby hotline - jack stauber's micropop

content: p in v, unprotected sex, fingering, pussy slapping, hair pulling, copious biting, creampie, breeding kink, belly bulge

She had a few constants in her life, things that would never change, no matter how hard she tried.

One; she would never be able to drive herself anywhere. She was befallen to being a frequenter of public transport, cycling, and whatever other benign thing she could rope herself into that didn’t involve getting behind the wheel of a car.

Two (which tied into one); she would always suffer from crippling anxiety. She didn’t know why she was this way, nor could she fix it. She tried every cure— smoking, medication, meditation, hypnosis, and other obscure treatments. She used to be a bright and sprightly child, shining with confidence and determination— she had all the makings to become something special.

She was in all of the gifted classes, read well above her grade, was an eloquent writer and an aspiring artist. Until, of course— something in her snapped. Around the age of hitting puberty, rather than blossoming into what she should’ve been, she wilted. Wilted into a shadow of what she was, who she was. Suddenly, her gifted mind turned into one that was average at best, and at her worst, stuck into remedial classes.

She hardly remembers who she was— and dreams of what could’ve been.

The third thing tied everything up into a bow; Aemond Targaryen. Her best friend since elementary school, they’d always been glued at the hip. Even now, almost two decades later. He had seen her at her best and her worst— and so had she.

They were both on the smaller side as kids, scrawny and short— this made them an easy target for bullies and the like; how it usually goes. After Aemond lost his eye, she became fiercely protective over him, even throwing out a few punches and getting beaten into the dirt if anyone said anything untoward to him.

That was when they were kids, though— when she was fierce and lively. Their roles have somewhat reversed now. Aemond grew into himself, shooting up to well above her height, while she stayed sort of small. He protected her when anyone looked at her the wrong way, even if she didn’t see it.

They were both twenty-six now, sharing a birthday just a few days apart. They were always close in everything.

It was a crisp autumn day, her oversized sweater rippling slightly in the growing breeze. Shivering, she knocked on the door of Aemond’s flat.

“Aem,” she hummed softly, “I’m here.”

A few moments later, the door opened— in all his six foot tall glory, Aemond. His hair was down and a bit messy. A plain white shirt and gray sweatpants were his lounge clothes of choice, it seemed.

He perked a brow, “Didn’t feel like using your key?” he asked, moving aside so she could walk in.

“Oh— yeah, the key,” she scratched the back of her head with a halfhearted chuckle, “I forget— and I don’t wanna just barge in…”

“You aren’t barging,” he mused with a small smirk, “I gave you a key for a reason— I trust you. Aegon doesn’t even have a key.”

She kicked off her boots, “Well, Aegon is an idiot— he would just come here to raid your fridge and steal all your… expensive liquor,” she giggled, genuinely. Unwrapping the scarf from her neck, she instantly felt herself warming back up, “I don’t get how you like that stuff anyhow— it tastes like… spicy brown piss or something.”

Aemond snorted, “It's top shelf whiskey, my dear. Not ‘spicy brown piss’ as you so lovingly put it,” his hand reached out to her bare neck, thumbing over her throat for a moment before he walked towards the balcony, sliding the door open. Lighting up a cigarette, he took a deep drag, “You just don’t have a sophisticated enough palate to get it, dove.”

She let out a mock indignant snort, moving to the couch, “I have a sophisticated enough palate when it comes to things that are actually good— like well-marbled beef or earthy mushrooms stewed with thyme and garlic. Not alcohol,” she scrunched her nose, “That shit will kill you, Aem,” her eyes flicked to his cigarette. Another one of her one-and-done vices she used to have— her and Aemond started together, as she’d heard it might help her anxiety. It didn’t help, and tasted horrible, so she quit the next week.

Aemond, however, didn’t quit. That was eight years ago. When Aemond fancied something, he never gave up; that she knew for a fact. He gave one of his signature toothy grins, blowing smoke in her direction, “Lots of things will kill me, dove. If I die from smoking, so be it.” he took another drag, a deep and performative one.

She let out a quiet ‘hmpf’ noise, grabbing her phone out of her pocket. They were used to sitting in silence with each other, leaving one another to their own devices— as long as they were in the room together, it was fine.

Aemond watched her as he finished up his cigarette. When she would look up, he would look away, as if he wasn’t just staring a hole through her. She could feel his gaze— his blind, milky blue eye boring into her, while his undamaged eye observed her like she was a specimen underneath a microscope.

Every expression, every minute movement of her face was absorbed by him. He knew her better than she knew herself— and that was fine with her. She hardly knew herself anymore, anyways.

Her jaw clenched as she looked through her phone, scrolling through messages. The quietest of sighs left her, deflating her ever so slightly.

“What is it?” Aemond asked, suddenly appearing next to her, settling down on the couch.

She blinked profusely a few times— he was so silent when he wanted to be. She locked her phone and put it aside, “Oh— that guy I’ve been talking to… we were supposed to go out tonight. Apparently something came up…” her voice trailed off as she looked down at her hands, cracking her knuckles idly; one of her nervous habits.

Aemond’s jaw clenched, his hand flexing slightly— then he relaxed, “I’m sorry, dove,” he murmured, “Maybe we can do something tonight, just the two of us? I’ll order Thai.”

She continued to crack her knuckles, “I-I dunno— I don’t want to be a burden. We don’t have to do this every time a guy cancels on me…”

It had become a longstanding tradition for takeout at Aemond’s flat when she got ghosted by a guy— which admittedly, happened a lot.

His hands were on hers in an instant, eclipsing them and prying them apart, “Stop that,” he said firmly, “You are not a burden. You never will be a burden. I won’t hear another word of that shit, got it?”

She fidgeted slightly at his harsh tone, but nodded, “… can we get Italian tonight instead of Thai?”

His tone and demeanor softened instantly at her acquiescence, “Of course, dove.” he gave her hands a quick, firm squeeze before letting go— one of his hands resting against her neck, arm wrapped around her.

They feasted and laughed all night, watching some of their favorite shows; overdramatic reality cooking competitions. They bickered back and forth about who should’ve won, who should’ve cooked what and who they think should’ve been eliminated.

At the end of the night, she was exhausted, leaning against him. She had eaten enough pasta to feed a small horse.

“Don’t think I’ll make it back to mine tonight Aem,” she mumbled, her forehead pressed against his arm, “Too bloated. Might fall asleep on the train if I try to go home— can I stay here tonight?”

“You don’t even have to ask,” he said softly, his hand caressed behind her head. He always got touchy-feely late at night like this, and she didn’t wholly mind— it made her feel special.

She usually wasn’t keen on physical touch from anyone but Aemond, no one else got it right. She had a few flings in college and they all ended sourly— all of her romantic ventures seemed to end sourly. Aemond, however, was always there— always there to pick up the pieces, to tell her that she is worth it, to make her feel like she mattered.

It was him— always him, wasn’t it?

The realization dawned on her, making her heart ping-pong in her chest. She… loved him. She did, didn’t she?

“You can sleep in my bed, if you want,” he suggested softly, unaware of her inner turmoil.

She felt like her eyes bulged out of her head at that proposition, “Uh-uh,” she managed to croak, “Don’t wanna take up your space n’ all that…”

He didn’t press the issue. “Goodnight, dove.”

She wrapped herself in a blanket, getting comfortable on the couch— as much as she could, anyhow. Eventually, from sheer exhaustion alone, she drifted off to sleep.

When she woke up, she didn’t know what time it was— it was still dark outside. She blinked a few times, looking around. It took her a minute to remember she was at Aemond’s.

Her eyes, blurry with sleep, landed on a figure— Aemond, illuminated in the darkness across from her. He was holding his phone— no, that was her phone.

He was looking intently at something, holding his phone in his free hand, typing something into it, obviously from her phone.

Why was Aemond on her phone? Not that she minded, of course, she had nothing to hide— but what… what would be so interesting that he was saving from her phone to his?

“Aem?” she murmured softly, “What are you doing?”

A moment of panic went over his face— she caught this immediately, as she could count all of the times on one hand she’d ever seen him make that look. That is when she knew something was wrong.

“Nothing, dove— go back to sleep.” he cooed, trying to sound as soft and soothing as possible.

But it didn’t work, her guard was up, her suspicions raised. She got up from the couch, “Aemond. What are you doing?” she asked again, a bit more firm.

“Nothing— I just needed… to get something off of your phone.” he said, still obviously hiding something.

“What would you need off of my phone?” she pressed, walking up and snatching it back from him.

On the screen— it was her dating app profile. The list of messages of all of the people she’d talked to were pulled up, including all of their personal information.

“Um… what— Aemond, why are you looking at all of their profiles?”

He stared at her for a long moment, his brow furrowed. He finally spoke after a stretch of silence, “I had to. I had to, you know. They aren’t worthy of you, none of them.” he said, his voice taking a serious note.

Shivers ran down her spine, “Aem— what the fuck are you talking about?”

“They needed to be told that you were already spoken for— that they needed to back off.” he moved a bit closer to her, his closeness suddenly oppressive.

She shook her head, still not understanding, “I-I don’t… wh—,”

He was on her then, grabbing her hands as they went to crack her knuckles, his grip on her tight, “They aren’t fucking good enough for you— no one is— no one except me, dove,” he growled low, his one seeing pupil blown wide like a predator, “You really think that every man you tried to go out with willingly ghosted you? Sweetheart, you can’t be that dumb.”

Suddenly, it all began to make sense. All of her failed attempts to date after college were failures— and it wasn’t because of her. It was because of Aemond.

She had spent years thinking that it was her fault, her inadequacies—

“Look at me,” he grunted, one of his hands going to her chin, forcing her gaze upward. Tears were streaming down her face, “I did it for you— for us— I am the only one capable of loving you,” his thumb caressed her bottom lip, parting it ever so slightly, “You think that anyone else on this planet would be able to handle you— besides me? I know you better than you know yourself. No one else would be able to handle all of your little quirks, your insecurities, your fears, your anxieties— but I will and I do.”

She sniffed, “I-if you liked me that way— why wouldn’t you just tell me?”

The pad of his thumb swiped the gathered wetness from her lip, “I’m patient— I’ve been patient— I needed you to realize,” his thumb slipped between her lips, pressing down onto the soft of her tongue, earning a small whimper from her, “That I’m the one— that you and I were made for each other, hm?”

She garbled a tiny reply, but it didn’t come through from his digit suppressing her tongue. Even through this— it felt like betrayal in some aspect to her— she couldn’t help but feel… warmth. Something akin to sickening elation. The good and bad parts of her were fighting, her emotions swirling within her.

He removed his thumb from her mouth, smearing her lips with her own saliva. He craned his neck downward, “Don’t you want me, dove?” he whispered, his lips ghosting over hers. They were exchanging breaths, sharing their oxygen between one another without actually touching yet.

She was still crying— but she nodded slowly, “Y-yes,” she murmured. After all— he was right, wasn’t he? Who else would deal with her? Who else would love her?

He lifted his hand to her neck— he always had loved to rest it there, why hadn’t she seen it before? — his fingers pressing ever so gently against her skin. He closed the almost nonexistent gap between them, their lips pressing together.

She hummed a tearful whimper as they kissed, the delightful warmth spreading throughout her body, mingling with the sting of betrayal and disgust. Eventually, his tongue invaded her mouth, lips moving together as if he wanted to fully consume her. She’d never been kissed so desperately before— it was as if he was starving.

They fell into a rhythm, his hand lowering from her neck down to her collarbone, tracing the very being of her. She didn’t know what to do with her hands— her fists were white-knuckled, clenching at his shirt as if to hold on for dear life.

His large hand palmed her breast, immediately eliciting a response from her in the form of a gasp. She felt him smile against her mouth, pulling back ever so slightly, “So responsive for me already— I knew you’d be,” he hummed, his thumb rasping over her sensitive nipple, causing it to harden immediately. It sent shivers straight to her core, where she felt a growing wetness.

He shifted them back to the couch, placing her on his lap, “I’ve been waiting for this for years,” he growled, nipping at the soft flesh of her neck, “I’ve been in love with you since we met— all of that time. I’m a patient man,” he continued, leaving little red marks on her skin, biting gently, then kissing, “I let you have your fun in college— I let you fuck your way through a few guys, letting that first one take your virginity— should’ve been me,” Aemond bit down into her shoulder, slowly moving his way down her body. His hands lifted her shirt off easily, practically snapping the wires of her bra in tow. “Now, my dove, we are going to make up for lost time, hm?”

He tossed her bra aside, her breasts, well endowed as she was, rested heavily upon her chest. He pawed at one right away, her nipple pebbling into a stiff peak.

“Why didn’t you tell me— why,” she mewled. It’d been so long since she’d been touched this way, and never so attentively. Her skin felt like it was on fire.

“I needed you to realize it,” he explained, biting at her nipple. She let out a cry, earning a laugh from him, “I only needed a little more time. Too bad you’re a light sleeper, hm?”

Her body felt tight and hot, as if she was going to melt if she didn’t relieve some of the growing ache between her legs. She felt his hardness— pretty significantly, in fact— pressing against her pelvis. Almost out of primal need, she began rocking her hips against it, hoping for some friction.

“Needy girl,” he admonished, “But I’m a giver, aren’t I?” his hand slipped beneath the waistband of her pants, down to her damp core. “So fucking wet for me already, hm? Just needed me to tell you that I love you and you’re practically gushing in my lap.”

His fingers parted her folds, honing in on her clit almost immediately. She fidgeted, pressing her head to his neck, breathing heavily against his skin. He worked at a slow pace at first— but she didn’t need much to begin barreling towards her first peak.

Aemond’s free hand snaked into her hair, yanking her back from his neck, “Don’t hide,” he purred, “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers, dove.”

She looked a mess, her face red and tear stained, kiss swollen lips parted as she whimpered in pleasure. She wasn’t loud in bed by any means— her little whines and moans were enough.

The cord within her began unraveling, slowly, slowly, as the pleasure intensified. He was able to achieve a level of euphoria that she could never do with her own fingers, nor could any other man.

“Aem, Aem— f-fuck,” she cried, tears still streaming down her face, “S’close, p-please.”

He grunted a moan in response, as if the act of getting her off was getting him off in turn, “Come on, let go for me.”

The pleasant feeling of wetness turned into a rush of pure ecstasy as she reached her peak, whimpering unintelligible praises while struggling to keep her eyes open.

“That’s it,” he cooed encouragingly, “Fucking beautiful.”

He kept up his ministrations on her pearl well after she came, causing her to squirm, “Too much, too much,” she murmured, a fresh string of tears falling down her cheeks.

The sight of her tears made him throb a bit— it was a wonder he lasted this long without fucking her already. He stopped his assault on her clit, prodding his fingers into her mouth so she could taste herself, then he licked them clean himself.

Shifting their positions slightly, he laid her down gently on the couch on her stomach as he pulled his sweatpants down. She glanced back, zeroing in on his member— he had a sizable length and girth, his tip messy and wet from her grinding earlier. Her mouth felt dry and wet all at the same time and she swallowed harshly.

He wiggled her pants and panties down her legs, her now soaked undergarments sticking to her folds. He gave her a playful swat between the legs, causing her to jump.

“So sensitive,” he hummed, pulling up her posterior in the air. His hand smacked lightly against her bottom before gripping it, “This; is mine,” he moved his hand down between her legs, pinching her clit, “This is also mine.”

She let out a mewling moan, keening under his possessive declarations— she found herself not only blooming in pleasure between her legs at such language, but her heart wrenched and wrought against her chest in a delightful pain. She wondered if this is what it was like to be in love.

“This changes everything, you know,” he said as he positioned behind her, moving the head of his cock between her legs, gathering the wetness there and creating a sticky friction. “There isn’t going back to the way things were— you are well and truly mine now, dove.” he cooed before easing himself inside of her, hissing lowly at the tight fit.

He bottomed out in her quickly, his member prodding against her sweet spot. Aemond let her adjust to his size for a minute— while also focusing to ensure that he didn’t come immediately. After a few moments, she relaxed— so he began to move.

His pace was slow and meticulous, filling every nook and cranny of her, committing the shape of her to memory. He paid close attention to when she would clench when he hit that spongy sweet spot, her hand going to the arm of the couch to find purchase, anything so she still felt like she had control.

Her mouth was agape, strings of saliva wetting the leather couch. “A-Aem— p-please,” she simpered, asking for what— she didn’t know, she just needed more.

He took it as a spur to increase his pace, the room filled with her tiny whines, his grunts and skin slapping against skin. His arm hooked under her chest and pulled her back, switching their position to where she was pressed against his back. His legs hooked between hers and pried them open, “Keep them open, sweetheart,” Aemond bit into her neck once more, leaving a few more additions to her growing collection of marks by him, “Need more of these on you, then there won’t be a,” his stopped as he groaned, his pace quickening, “fucking doubt in anyone’s mind who you belong to– you’re mine, always been mine– fuck.” his mouth was upon her ear, muttering sweet nothings to her as his free hand pressed her flat to his chest. He thrusted upward, taking her hand and putting it over her abdomen– the bulge of him inside of her could be felt, “Mine have, mine to hold, mine to fuck– mine to breed,” his breath quickened– he was close.

The double entendre of feeling the bulge inside of her and the head of his cock bullying that sweet, spongy spot just right– pushed her over the edge for the second time. She clenched and fluttered around him, earning an animalistic growl from him as he came, ropes of his seed coating her walls.

They stayed like that for a while, his cock softening inside of her while she regained her breath, coming to terms with the situation she was in. Soon enough, he pulled out, his seed dripping out of her. The stimulation to her already battered core made her squirm.

He leaned forward, still encircling her, encompassing her in his arms. “Tell me that you love me.”

She didn’t know when she started crying again– or perhaps she’d been crying the whole time. She sniffed, acquiescing, “I love you, Aemond.”

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