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Anxiety Relieving Purposes

✧ part 1: stress relieving purposes ✧

Summary: Exam week has arrived so you have a another brilliant idea for you and Aemond. Seeing him full of dread and anxiety, you think of the best way of calming him.

✧Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader ✧Warnings: MDNI 18+, p in v sex, free use, public sex, oral sex (m receiving), no protection, creampie, slight breeding kink, slight (not so slight) size kink, fingering, aemond being a tease. ✧Word Count: 6.7k ✧Note: so..... aemond's exam is fully here!! and all the things he studied are things that I AM studying at the moment so yeah #studying and writing. I have weeks FULL of things, and may seems (at the moment) very empty, so I will try to work on my wips there!!

The day of the famous exam, Aemond was outside the classroom, as he waited for his name to be called. His turn was near at 16:15 pm, so he came with anticipation, as the professor asked for them to wait in case a space was available for whatever reason.

14:01, his expensive watch said. It was his grandfather’s, and he asked his father to give it to him, ignoring the fact that he conveniently asked when his father was high on medications, but that was another thing. He even wore that seven pointed star necklace his mum gave to him, so the Gods may be with him.

This class was brutal, and he knew it. He knew very well when he enrolled with this particular professor. It was hard, but you learnt everything. And he, the pretentious ambitious little shit that he was, did it willingly.

He should have listened to you. Your exam? To start, it wasn’t even oral like this one, and you could take your notes to the exams, because it was mostly rational and analytical thinking. Have you learned much? No, but you were passing.

And it wasn’t like he got bad grades, in fact he was one of the brilliant few people in the class. The thing is that this particular exam was valued at 40% whereas the rest of papers and exams were barely over 15%. If someone failed this one it was the end.

He took a drag of his cigarette, leaning over the open window of the hallway, so the smell of cigarette wasn’t so evident. He wanted to do this oral exam as quickly as possible, so he was waiting like a vulture around the classroom.

When a single hand covers his only functioning eye, he sighs as he smokes, rolling his eye under your hand.

“Guess who!” It is your animated voice, and even without saying anything, he’d know it was you.

“You little shit” He says, taking your hand off. “You really just covered one of my eyes?”

As he turns, he sees you holding a bucket of fried chicken, and he has to smirk.

“Well, I had to hold your lunch with the other hand, duh.” You say smugly, almost proud of this little surprise for him. “You know that five cigarettes do not count as lunch?”

“It does when you are anxious. And about to throw up” He adds, as he looks a bit at the closed door of the auditory, and he sighs.

Your smug smile softens, and you leave the bucket of food on the near table, and you wrap your arms around him, as he decides to kill his cigarette on the ashtray, to wrap his arms around you as well.

“You’ll do fine” You whisper, assuring him of it. “And the professor will be so surprised that he’ll stand up and do a public ovation for you” You add teasingly.

“That’s so…” He says giggling at the idea, his tight stomach feels more at ease at your silly jokes. “Stupid”

“It is in the future.” You say, convinced “And he’ll immediately give you a doctorate, and then you’ll work and maintain me, of course.”

He chuckles amused, rubbing you back as he looks where your chin rests against his chest, looking up to him. “And I’ll do that willingly? Oh gods, maybe I’ll fail the exam, then”

You laugh as you hit the side of his left rib, and he tightens his embrace slightly.

“I’ll pay you well” You say nodding.

“How so?”

“I’ll clean the house, and I’ll be your pretty maid which from occasion to occasion sucks your dick”

“I think I'll be better if you become my personal sex slave” he whispers with a smug smirk, and he feels your hand slapping the side of his rib again. “Because you are already my slut, no?”

“Imbecile. And look at me, buying you lunch. Fried chicken, the spicy one that you like.” You add the last thing, separating from his hug as you cross your arms. “Men are disgusting, they want only one thing” You dramatise as he laughs at your words.

“Fine, fine… we’ll eat the fried chicken. You’ll feed me yourself?”

“You are insane if you think…” Your voice trails off as you see how his smile fades and he tilts his head to watch the students leaving the auditory.

You turn to watch the scene, a girl clearly crying as she makes her way to the bathroom. Baela comes out of the classroom, slightly defeated, with another student. One of the assistants of the professor closes the door, so they discuss the answers immediately.

Aemond walks hushedly next to Baela, as you grab the bucket to follow him. You can see how his body is tense, walking hushedly and full of anxiety.

“How did it go?” Aemond joins the conversation as Baela is the first of the group to get out, and you see Cregan and Jace get close too, along with other fellow students.

“It fucked me” Baela admits shaking her head.

You can feel the anxiety along the group, and you stand next to Aemond, looking at him as he places a hand on his mouth as if to think what the hell and how the fuck he will get over this.

“What did they ask you?” You dare to ask.

“ How biopower by Foucault could relationate with Deleuze and Guattari’s… notion of desiring-production, how the concepts contribute to the understanding of modern forms of governance and subjectivity as seen in class.” She says and everyone looked extremely horrified by the question itself.

“Holy fuck” Jace mutters.

“And Moeria? What about her? She left crying..” Cregan says as he looks at Baela.

“ How Foucault’s disciplinary power intersects with Judith Butler’s performativity? With examples from each perspective and respective works… and how they work together, something like that”

“That was easy!” Aemond says, frustrated, because he wasn’t the one to get that question. You see how his own hand starts picking on his cuticles, and breaking his nails in anxiousness.

“Fucking Foucault…” Jace murmurs as he sighs horrified.

You can see how Aemond’s hand trembled slightly, he was as well horrified. He’d told you, there were only 40 questions, randomly selected. He had to study hard, read like five books just to get asked one question. And when the easiest left, only the hard ones left for the ones at the very end.

“Let’s eat” You say, taking his hand, and he looks at you, with uncertainty in his eyes, as he nods slightly. He was anxious, you could see. “Destroying your hands won’t leave you at ease… Food might” You add with a gentle smile.

He nodded, sighing as he was tired. You exchanged slight awkward looks with Cregan as he waved his hand to you and you smiled politely, before walking away with Aemond.

“I could have answered that one…” He whines as you two walk downstairs to eat. “It was far too easy. You wanna know why?”

“Why?” You ask just to leave him let all out.

“If you add Foucault's insights into disciplinary power with Butler's theory of performativity, you get this more… full understanding of how social control operates through the regulation of bodies and identities! Together you can see the…the complex interplay that there is always is between power, discourse, and subjectivity in… shaping the understanding of self and society.” He says frustrated, as he follows you.

“Well, do not worry. Maybe you’ll get Foucault as you so adore him.”

“I swear that if someone else gets something about the panopticon… I will kill myself”

“You won’t kill yourself over that”

“I’ll get the easiest top mark ever” He says very seriously about it. “It’s so easy I learned it when I was like two years old”

“You are over exaggerating, Aemond” You say as you both walk to the outside of the building, as you find a bench for you two to sit. “Relax”

“It is not in my nature”

“Believe me when I say that I know that” You say as you pat your side for him to sit. “That’s why I brought the best fried chicken ever.” As you open the bucket, he leans slightly as he puts some alcohol gel on his hands, ready to eat. He was starving, between the ball of anxiousness stuck on his stomach. “It is not as warm, but…”

“It could be cold, but I’d love it anyway because you brought them for me.” He says looking at you “You don’t even have classes today”

“No, I do not. That’s the thing when you are just the best student in class, you tend to approve earlier than the rest…”

“Oh, shush” He says as he grabs one and he makes a delighted moan as he eats it. “It’s so good. I needed this”

“The food or me?”

He rolls his eye, but lowkey, he knows that the answer is you.

You two enjoy the food together, as you try to lighten up his mood. He is still very tense, his shoulders do not seem slightly as ease, and he was still trying to destroy his cuticles.

You look at his face. He looks slightly off. Aemond, who was very much perfectionist on his appearance, seems not to have cared enough these days. It felt like that, you knew. Studying hard so that you pass the appropriate time to bath, eat or sleep.

The thing with Aemond is that he is utterly obsessive. A perfectionist at heart, and he likes things to do as he planned. Gives him security and confidence, and he always gave his whole soul to something so important for him. You sigh with a smile, as you feel bad for him as he seems so unease.

You lean to kiss his cheek, and he turns his head to look at you, getting out of his dissociated state. “Huh?”

Your eyebrows go up as if to ask him what he meant, as you smile.

“What was that for?”

“I think you needed it” You say as he rolls his eye amused, leaving the empty bucket away. He looks at you, the university mostly empty, since most of the people already passed their classes and did not attend further, like you. He surely was lucky to have you, if it weren’t for you he’d surely still miss Alys. He does miss her sometimes, but after a long talk with you, he realises that she is not that worth it. But feelings don’t go away that easily, but it is clearly not love

“Huh. What I need is a divine illumination right now” He says looking at his clock. 14:37.

“You need to calm your anxiety” You state, taking his hand on yours, and smiling at him. “Look at me.” He sighs, rolling his eyes, but he turns his body a bit to face you properly. “You know this. You read the whole books, and you knew all of it. You will nail this. There is no one here who knows the answer as you do.”

“You are far too kind” He says, his lips slightly curving. “And too good for my ego” he adds.

“Idiot. You see, you’ll end up like the assistants of the professor.”

“ I wish” he says dramatically. “The blonde one passed the exam with a hundred. Maybe she was asked about the panopticon. I swear it is so easy, I made an essay about 1984 and the whole theory of it.” he murmurs, still grumpy as he crosses his arms. “You know, there is a theory that she fucked the professor for it.”

You love good gossip, and you raise your eyebrows as your smirk is very much amused.

“Oh, is that so?”

“I mean, probably comes from envy and misogyny” he adds, rolling his eyes. “But If you get asked the easiest question…”

“Maybe you should fuck the professor as well.” you tease as he laughs a bit, less tense as his whole body moves at the amusement.

You look at him for a brief moment, as the thought lingers in your mind for a moment. You look at him, and a very bad idea forms in your mind. Bad, but… fruitful.

You look at him, he was still tense, but less than before. His right left bounced slightly, and you looked at how huge his thigh looked against yours, even sitting on the same bench.

You knew Aemond went to the gym almost daily, and he was very much into it, it was just his (other) way to relieve stress. He always talked about it, and you remember the occasion at Jacaerys’ sevenmas party when he and Jason Lannister had the brilliant idea to compete about who could do more pull ups without dying.

You have to press your thighs together at the memory of it. He was sweaty, and you remembered him gruting, and exhaling profoundly as he kept going. Because if Aemond was one thing, it was competitive.

And he was more than willing to keep going with anyone who dared to challenge him. He went round after round, and you were like his personal spotter as he tried to win everyone. Sure, after going on several rounds with different people he had to back away.

You remember you and him laying on the couch as he expressed his body and arms burning from the sting. Back then, it wasn’t as arousing as it is now.

“I have just the right idea to help you” you say looking at him, as you already feel aroused. God, he was unaware of the lustful feelings he provoked in you.

“Oh gods.” Aemond says, turning to look at you. “How long will this bad idea take? I have like hour and a half”

“It depends. Not much, I think. Well, this time, at least” You say with a giggle, and he looks at you puzzled. And you lean slightly closer. “I think you’ll like it”

Aemond blinks, as he is not sure what this idea entails.

“you have such bad ideas” he groans and you slap his arm as you chuckle.

“Hey! I have great ideas”

“The last idea you had to help me was… were two actually. The first one being setting me up with Floris Baratheon and you with Cregan to use sex to destress”

“And? Did it go wrong??” You say.

“Your idea, yes. My idea, no. Which I remind you, was us sleeping together. Because it was my idea and I want the credit” he says smirking smugly.

“But it was thanks to my idea”

“And the second one” he ignores your weak attempt to recover credit. “Were you cockwarming me as I read Foucault” he states amused.

“Foucault would have loved that idea.” You say crossing your arms.

“it was a bad idea, admit it” he says amused looking at you.

“Oh, so you aren’t in for cockwarming?”

“No, I didn't say that” he says amused at how you turn the table on him. “I meant studying while you look so delightful, and your pussy warms my cock” he whispers slowly to you with a smirk “and you expect me to be okay with that and just read Foucault?”

“Okay. But this one is good” you say smiling “Hear me out”

Aemond rolls his eyes amused, but he sits back as he hears you, with an endearing smile as he does so.

“You and I could… you know, we could relieve stress again”

Aemond blinks slightly put off, and he looks at you.

“Like right now?”

“When else you’d be this stressed?” You ask as if he was stupid.

“Well, apologies for being rational and full of moments of stress” Aemond says “Besides, there are no places…”

“The bathroom, an empty class-”

“No places” He insists again, as if turning away your proposal. “And they’ll kick us out. And reading those books will be worthless.”

“They practically sucked your family dick for you to get in, Aemond. They won’t kick you out. Aegon probably did it…”

“Don’t compare us to Aegon-”

“And he is still here, after changing like three times his career and failing all the classes.” you add nodding.

“I am not the one who won’t enter anywhere else”

“HEY!” you say slapping his arm as he laughs, and he passes an arm in your waist to scoop you closer as you cross your arms and look away in pride. “and the fool just wants to help you”

Aemond chuckles, as his face kisses your cheek, but you still look away, stubbornly.

“I am joking, love” Aemond says softly, and he leans to kiss you neck softly. “We could do that”

“No, now I don’t want to”

“You are being a brat…” he says mockingly, still smiling, and his arm around you keeps you pressed against him, as his hand rubs slightly your waist. “Come on. Don’t you wanna help me destress? Don’t you want my cock in your pretty pussy?” He whispers in your ear, placing his left hand on your thigh.

Sincerely, fuck him, because you immediately turn to look at him, and he knows how to push your buttons. He looks at you with the corners of his lips slightly turned up, as he nods softly.

He is a little shit, persuading you to follow him to the bathroom. It was merely an idea, you knew he’d make fun from it, but not after that, he would take it to heart.

You walk across the campus, almost empty from people that simply finished their courses or they were in class right now. And he holds your hand firmly as you head to the bathroom.

On campus, there were multiple bathrooms, but only one gender neutral bathroom. You two used to joke that this is were one came to fuck or get high. And no one really used them, as weird as it was. They weren’t always functional, and the doors tend to get stuck. But the mayor plus, is that they weren’t really dirty, nor people would come in.

Aemond leaves his backpack on the hanger inside the cubicle and you frown slightly. He didn’t bring his usual leather bag, and you point it out.

“I will go to the gym after this. I have my towel and my clothes” He explains softly, closing the door behind you and you hand your little purse too. It wasn’t small, but it wasn’t as luxurious to have a bed.

“Okay. How do we…” you move your hands trying to see how the fuck you’ll do it. “I mean, I didn’t think how…”

“I don’t think anyone thinks before having sex, darling.” He says looking at the clean bathroom, it was better than anything. The floor was clean, and Aemond could see their reflections on the black shiny tiles. “Hm.” Aemond says, looking at you. “I have a few ideas…”

“You are still tense” you say looking at how his shoulder tense up. You move your hands to caress his shoulders, and look at him “Don’t be”

“It’s like telling a sad person just not to be”

You roll your eyes, and shake your head with annoyance. “Shut up.”

You two remain silent, as if thinking how. You had a toilet, a sink and lots of hope.

“It feels like… too dirty” you look up to him.

“Yes.” He agrees, as you two look at eachother. “We certainly don’t have to. I’ll be fine, you know. I appreciate…”

“No” you cut him immediately. “I’ll do it.” You insist, shaking your head at his proposals. “You look… honestly, terrible”

“Ah, thanks for the support” he says rolling his eyes as he crosses his arms.

“It’s hot” you insist, as you grab his forehand to uncross his arms. You move his arms to place them around your waist, as you walk closer to him, looking up to him. “Seeing you all stressed and tense…”

Aemond arches his left eyebrow, as his hand finds its way to your waist, holding you. He had no idea how you could lust him as you spoke how emaciated he was, but it was working.

He smelled like coffee and cigarettes, and you smiled at him. Your hands caressed his chest, his pectorals were something else, as he looked at you, intrigued.

“I have to do something about it” you insist, looking up to him, your hands caressing his abdomen softly. “So… tell me what to do”

Aemond looks at you. His cock was already stirring, he could feel how he was growing on his pants, hard and needy. It is a slow torture, to be sure.

“Surprise me..” he says without really thinking.

“No..” you shake your head. “You are very stressed, and it is a very important moment for you. You need to… relieve that stress. And I… allow you to use my body how you see fit. However you see fit. ”

Aemond blinks, a bit baffled by such a proposal. Sure, the bathrooms weren't the ideal place for this, but his cock didn't think the same now, not when you were willing to please his tastes completely, and let him use your body to his liking.

You move your hands to unbelt his pants, slowly as his hand loosen its grip on your waist, and look at your face as you seem so eager to see once again his cock.

“Are you hard?” You ask softly, a rhetorical question as you feel his cock against his underwear, and you look up to him as you palm him a bit.

“Yeah” he murmurs, his voice like a grunt.

“Want me to suck your dick?”

Aemond takes a deep breath, as the corners of his mouth seem to go slightly up. He is getting annoyed at your teasing, but not the bad type of annoyed. The type of annoyed when you “behave like a brat” as he puts it, and he enjoys keeping you in line.

Whenever you insist on skipping class, he has to keep a close eye on you. If you insist on trying to get with someone which is no good for you, he has to keep you by his side. When you want to do something reckless, he stops you, a hand steady on your waist.

“You know the answer” he says softly.

“Yes” your smile is cheeky as you move your shoulders “so?”

Aemond sighs, his hands rubbing your arms and shoulder. “Yes. I want you to suck my dick” he says simply, and you smile a bit. “But I am sure you want to have my cock as well. Badly” he adds.

You smile at him, and nod, feigning innocence.

“Then kneel”

“Floor is dirty” you remind him with a smirk. “Not the best-”

“Kneel on my feet.” he does not hesitate. “Won’t be dirty at all. You like being at my feet, don’t you?”

Your cheeks slightly burn from the remark. You look at him, and he looks nothing but smug. You sometimes really hate him.

His boots are perfectly clean, you can picture him cleaning every little detail of his outfit so he looks presentable and even more perfect for his exam. It is both endearing and hot.

Your knees go to rest on his shoes. A bit uncomfortable, a bit too close. Forced proximity to his crotch, as he pulled his boxers down.

You look up to him as your mouth salivates at the sight, his cock fat, big and swollen, getting harder by the second. It hits his own abdomen, tall and proud.

You accommodate a bit your knees on his shoes, making sure it doesn’t hurt him for you to place your weight on his feet. Yet he doesn’t seem even fazed by that.

“Go on” he murmurs, moving some hairs out of your face, as he leans for his back to rest against the cold ceramic wall. He looks at you, his arousal growing as you press your lips to the base of his cock to kiss it, and you basically are taking your time for it, his face pressed against his cock as you leave little kisses on his base, going all up to his tip.

The weight of your knees on his feet is slightly uncomfortable, but he is too aroused, that it only fuels his lust for you.

“We don’t have all the time” he murmurs, taking your hair to guide you.

“You don’t rush art-”

“Come on” he grunts as his fist is more tight to your hair. “You said I could use you as I wish. So shut up and take it”

God damn you if it didn’t turn you on.

His grip on your hair was firm, as his other hand went to rest at the top of your neck, holding your jaw. You are forced to have his dick on your mouth and the plus was that you could see his face perfectly.

At first, he lets you accommodate his cock on your mouth. He holds you, as if guiding you to it. You don’t have to do anything but be pretty, and open your mouth. And of course, taking his massive cock on your throat.

You look at him with glossy eyes as he has his way in your throat, gently, holding you softly and soothing you, making you more receptive to all.

“Shhhh, there, you are doing so good” His soothing voice comes in a low voice, as he has that pleased expression on his face, biting his lower lip as you swallow more and more of his cock. “So pretty”

It comes as a praise, as his hand gently caresses softly your throat as you take him well , making you maintain your head tilted up so his cock can slide perfectly down your throat, little by little, forcing you to keep it wide and open all for him.

He lets a low groan, his grip hesitates, between becoming more firm or looser. He guides your movements as you take him deeper. His cheeks are slightly red, his own mouth is open, panting to suppress the moans and grunts; his brows furrowed in pleasure as his eye is transfixed by the sight of you; his cock disappearing into your mouth, your lips wrapping around his mouth.

“Fuck…” He barely can form the sentence, more like a pant, and he still tries to be quiet, his hips start thrusting in your mouth, keeping your head still for him to use however he pleases. However he wants. Utterly at his mercy.

Once his cock hits the back of your throat, he starts bucking his hips up roughly. He holds your head, a tight and firm grip as he pumps his dick in and out.

“So hot” He breathes out, “Taking my dick like this” He says, as if the mere thought aroused him more.

You gurgle on his cock, the head of it hitting your throat, and you try to remain quiet. The gagging sounds are nothing but obscene, and they resonate in the bathroom halls.

You look up to him, and you let him use you. Even if you can’t breathe, even if your throat will be sore- gods, even if they catch you. Why? Easy.

Aemond seems more relaxed. He seems at ease, as his chest rises and falls as he pants, his face in a contorned expression full of pleasure, as his hand presses against your throat; the other still on your hair. He grips slightly your throat and can even feel the small bulge his cock makes on its way down.

And you’d give anything to always see him this at ease. He is not relaxed; by nature. He tends to obsess, he tends to think and rethink things. He is hardly a person who goes by hedonistic ways, that enjoys leisure.

But this? You might always be on your knees, fully open and available for him. And you have the faintest impression that you both know it.

“Fuck” He pants again, trying to keep his voice no louder than a mer murmur. “You feel me here? I’m all the way down, baby” He says, his hand gripping at the end of your jaw and beginning of your throat. He stops his thrust, and you swallow a bit, squeezing him. He moans, shamelessly.

You look up to him, and nod softly; as you can do so. He smirks and nods, his lips open as the hand on your hair moves to move some hairs out of your forehead.

“It does… It does help” He says, grinning a bit, out of breath. “I don’t want to… cum, but neither to pull away.”

Your hands move to his thighs, and you look up to him. He loves the sight of you. You begged for him to use you, and that thought drives him feral insane.

“I’ll fuck you” He says as he pulls out, and he leans to take you by your armpits to keep you on foot. He moves your long skirt all the way up, and his smirk lets you know that he has no plans of stopping.

“Yeah, yeah” You say without breath.

“I was not asking” he says as he grabs you, and he presses your back against the door, moving his hips closer, so you don’t have another option but to wrap your legs around his waist.

As his hands move to try to move your panties to the side, you look at him, and almost in a moment of clarity you murmur.

“Against the door is a bad idea, it will creak” You complain, but Aemond roll his eye at annoyance.

“Shut up” he murmurs “You say that I could use you, so you don’t get a say in this. If I want to fuck you like this, you’ll take it”

You blink, and he looks up to face you. He is so enjoying this, his grin is smug, and his eyebrows are slightly frowning as if asking you to defy him.

“Yes, sir” You murmur, slightly playfully, and slightly not playfully.

He hums, and nods. He is pleased with your answer.

“Soaked wet” he smirks as his fingers trace your panties. “It could be freezing cold, and you’ll still use these damn skirts, hm?”

“Always in hopes you’ll bend me over” You say softly, and he chuckles a bit. He moves to kiss your lips, as his fingers move your panties to the side, and moves his fingers slowly inside.

His scent is driving you more feral, cigarettes and coffee, he is pested on it. Maybe he had like three coffees to keep himself up, and cigarettes to calm himself down. His perfume is strong, and you knew he liked to have those masculine scents, but the ones who smelt good, and you loved his perfume.

He pushes his fingers in and out, and you gasp on his mouth, your hips trying to move as he keeps you pressed against the door. It is utterly naughty, you know it.

“You ruined me” he murmurs against your neck, placing kisses there. “When I’ll be answering that question, that I studied so hard for… I’ll be imagining you sucking my dick.”

You whimper slightly, feeling full of him. Being full of him, of his fingers. He fucks you, preparing you for his cock.

“I missed this pretty pussy, this tiny hole of yours.” He says, his other hand wrapping around your waist to keep you still, and helping you not fall. “So wet for me. Are you always wet when you are around me? Wearing your most provocative outfits for me?”

“Yes” You admit as you blush a bit. He reads you like an open book.

“Fool of me to ask that. In my eyes, all your outfits are provocative. All your outfits make me wanna stuff you on my cock, and have you crying of pleasure” He murmurs against your neck, and he decides that a hickey will decorate your neck just fine.

You whimper, squeezing his fingers as his hot mouth sucks against the skin of your neck, and you squirm slightly on his arms. You drive him insane, and after a while he is satisfied, moving away to inspect his art.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard” He says, breathless as his thumb move over then hickey.

His promises are never empty, as you feel his cock entering your cunt in a swift motion. It is not your first time taking him, but every time feels better than the last.

You squirm trying to get in a better position against the door, but he keeps you still in the position he wants. You wrap an arm around his neck for better stability, as his hips start to buck against you, using his grip on your waist to move you up and down on his cock.

Gods, he is so strong, you know it. He is holding all your weight as he fucks you, each thrust, your back hits the door, making it creak and grate, every thrust hitting it softly. It is so obscene, yet it arouses you more. His strong arms around you, his muscles against your body. It arouses you more than it should, feeling your body against his firm chest, as he fucks you.

His head moves back to your neck, to the other side, barely over your clavicle to make another hickey. He is full hands-on, hitting your ass softly as he uses you, as his cock pounds your cunt over and over.

“You like when I use you? When I fuck you how I want?”

“Yeah, yeah, I love it…” You whimper as you feel the little kiss he leaves over your hickey.

“You love it, I know, baby” He says, his other arm going to your waist, now wrapped up and holding you close against his chest, moving you up and down on his cock.

You mewl at the change of position, you don’t care how much your shoulders accidentally hit the door, you just want for him to…

It hits you like a cold bucket of water.

“We are not using a condom” you murmur, and his thrusts stop a bit, his head looking up to face you. He didn’t realise the fact either.

You two blink at each other, and he waits for you to continue.

“You should cum inside and we’ll try our luck” you say softly, and his hands grip on your waist tighter.

“Fuck yes…” He breathes out, the thought drives insane, and by how he is fucking you harder, you know it.

You lean softly, your breasts against his neck as you lean your head closer to his ear. “You’ll give that exam while I am leaking your cum”

Up and down, he moves you, the filthy sound of your ass against his flesh, and he moans, more desperate to cum. Your cunt squeezes a bit, his cock is sliding against your walls in a delicious way, and you are becoming too overwhelmed by the size of him too, how the head manages to grind your sweet spot and how he is grunting against your ear.

His thumb rubs back and forth against your clit. Your jaw drops, as you feel yourself cumming from how much he is doing to you, how he magically knows all secrets to make you melt on his cock. It is almost as magical as you know his secrets too.

You milking his cock has to be one of his favourite newfound discoveries. Maybe his new favourite hobby. Your cunt squeezing his cock, as if making sure his balls go empty, releasing himself in you with such determination, that maybe it’ll get you pregnant. And that thought, to his horny head, does not bother him.

He holds you still, impaled on his cock as he cums inside you, nuzzling his head on the curve of your neck to drunk himself on your scent. It calms him, to be sure. And he loves it. Familiar, sweet and cosy. As if it was home for him.

You two share lazy kisses, as he has no problem holding you still. You smile, your hands resting against his strong shoulders, and he eventually pulls out and leaves you safely on your foot again.

“I have another idea” You say smiling to him.

“Gotta give it to you, this idea wasn’t bad. So I am hearing you out” He says as he takes a small towel from his bag, wiping some of the sweat on his neck and you smirk mischievously.

Your hand goes to your panties, taking them out and presenting them to him. They are still soaked wet, and you smile proudly at your idea.

“What?” He asks frowning, but slightly amused.

“Like a lucky charm”

He looks at you in disbelief before he starts laughing a bit.

“What?” It is your turn to ask him.

“That is such a… silly idea”

“Think about it! You can keep it with you when you answer the questions.”

“Darling, that is… Your bad ideas made a comeback, eh?” He teases you, saving the towel on his bag and you take the opportunity to hit his chest again.

“Fine.” You say “Don’t take them”

“I didn’t say I was not gonna take them as my lucky charm. I just said it was silly” he says, taking your panties from your hands, and putting them in his pocket.

“Pervert” you murmur amused, turning around to unlock the door of the bathroom, which he totally uses to slap your ass, in which you whine “Aemond!”

You two get out as quickly as you can, no one seems at sight. You look at yourself in the mirror and scrunch your face at seeing your state.

“Look at what you-” you start but you both turn to look at the person who just walked in.

As they move to take some of the toilet paper, with a stuffy nose, Aemond moves closer to you, clearing his throat a bit awkwardly as you feel them side-eye you both. No words were spoken, but it was awkward.

Once they go away, you and Aemond share a look.

“Pff, that was close” You try to break the tension.

“It wasn’t close. You look absolutely fucked.” His hand moves to comb your hair, as some crazy locks were out of place. He? Looked divine and perfect as always. “And the hickeys don’t help your case”

“How am I supposed to go out with those things in my neck? Gods” you say, a hand rubbing the hickey as if they would disappear with that. “And I have to buy the pill-”

“Yeah” he says, pressing his lips together as he tries to suppress a smile. “Well, to be fair it was your idea.”

“I totally forced you to it” You roll your eyes as you two walk out of the bathroom and back to the waiting hall.

“Hm” He says amused. “I am innocent”

You both wait seated, with other of his classmates around. He does not engage, he is obviously tense and anxious, but at the same time, it is not eating him alive as before.

You feel proud of that. He was an anxious mess, and thanks to you he was well fed and got to release all his worries on you, and your cunt. And for that, you smile.

You can see Cregan wandering around with Jace, and you don’t care about him anymore. Sure, he was still hot as hell, but with Aemond near, you just lean your head on his shoulder and he rubs his nervous hand on your waist.

“Aemond Targaryen” His name is called out, and you stand along with him, taking his hand along yours.

Before he goes in, with his other two classmates, you stop him, to kiss him sweetly. Your hands cup his face, and you have to be on your tiptoes to reach his lips properly.

“They’ll ask you about Foucault” You murmur on his lips, as he looks at you, nervous but dumbfounded. “And you’ll nail this”

That reassurance makes him smile, leaving a small peck on your lips before going in. Being asked about the Panopticon, being the top of his class and being assistant seem second hand worries as he knows that you’ll be waiting for him once he comes out from the exam. You’ll always be his lucky charm.

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nouveauvague · 5 days

Text

Hush (modern Aemond x fem Reader)

Summary: Aemond has been crushing on you since forever but is too shy to tell you. One night while watching a movie with your friends and cuddling underneath a blanket he shows you just how much he desires you. Based on this little prompt "What if I pull your panties aside, and finger you in a public place…?"

Word count: +3700

Warning: 18+ for explicit content and language, fingering, teasing, dirty talk, hand job (sort of), mild choking,

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

Aemond’s mind was everywhere except focussed on the movie playing on the big tv in front of him. Lord of the Rings the Two Towers just finished a few minutes ago and the intro for Return of the King now filled the screen. Aemond adored these movies, they always managed to get him out of his own head and distract him from whatever was happening in real life.

But tonight, even Frodo and Sam didn’t succeed in changing his low mood.

If it were up to him he’d be in his room right now, wallowing and hiding away from the world.

But his friends had insisted he’d hang with them for their weekly movie marathon. Part of him was grateful they looked out for him and cared enough, but another part of him just wanted to be left alone.

You’d been gone for over 5 hours now and he hadn’t thought of anything else since, how beautiful you looked with your hair down and that short, sexy black dress you only wore on date nights. Not that he would know anything about that. You had dated half his friend group but never him.

Of course not him, why would you?

He grabbed another handful of popcorn and tried to focus on the beginning of the movie but it was no use. He knew he’d go to sleep with you still on his mind, like he had so many night before in the past 3 years since he’d known you.

It was completely pathetic, but what was he to do? You were his best friend. He was the first one you ran to after every single one of those dates, sometimes to talk about how amazing the guy was and how you hoped he might be the one, but more often than not it was to cry on Aemond’s shoulder after another asshole broke your heart.

The jealousy was enough to drive him insane sometimes, but still he was only too happy to lend you his shoulder and his arms whenever you needed them.

You always seemed so comfortable around him and in return Aemond could let his guard down with you, which was rare for him. Your friendship was the most important thing in his life, he’d rather die than lose you, and he'd rather have you as a friend than not have you at all. So he kept his feelings locked away deep down and played the part of supportive best friend while you went on one date after the other with a bunch of guys who never stuck around for very long.

But he always would. Until maybe one day you would see…

He knew that was a dream he should stop indulging in but he just could’t help it, he was too far gone for you and tonight was a low point. He craved you so bad just the thought of you in that black dress had him growing hard in his sweatpants.

***

You opened the door of the apartment as quietly as you could, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself. You knew they were all watching the movie and maybe if you were careful enough you could just slip past everyone and get to your room without having to explain…

“Y/N!”

Shit.

Helaena’s voice made everyone look up at you. Your friends were all spread out across the living room, on the couches and on the floor, covered in blankets and surrounded by cozy lights and candles. The whole setting was very inviting yet you wanted no part in it right now, you just wanted to get to your room before you would burst out in tears.

But when Helaena got up and put her arms around you that plan failed.

“Oh, honey, no…what’s wrong?” she looked at you with concern on her face.

“Bad date,” you sobbed,”Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Okay,” she caressed your hair,”Do you wanna watch the movie with us? We just started Return of the king.”

You shook your head,”I just want to crawl into my bed and disappear.”

But Helaena didn’t let go of you and shook her head,”No, I can’t allow that.”

“Can’t allow that?” you couldn’t help but smile through your tears.

“Come join us, you can cry over that asshole later, the people who care about you are right here.”

You sighed.

“Please?” she added with her sweetest smile, pulling you over the edge easily. You knew she was right, you deserved to end the night surrounded by friends instead of alone in your bed crying over some guy who wasn’t even worth it.

“Fine,” you caved,”just give me a few minutes.”

“Take your time, grab some popcorn and a drink from the kitchen and come find a spot.”

You did as she suggested, making a quick stop in the bathroom first to wash off your make up and exchange your dress for some comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. Then you got some snacks from the kitchen table and a soda from the fridge before making your way back to the living room.

Much to your dismay everyone was sitting in pairs, even Helaena who seemed very cozy next to Jace. You instantly wanted to turn on your heel and go hide in your room anyway. But then you saw him, the only one who was sitting by himself.

Aemond.

He was already looking at you when your eyes met his and he gave you a little smile, mouthing,”You okay?”

You shook your head.

“Come here,” he beckoned and he lifted up his blanket, an invite to join him and you didn’t hesitate.

You placed your drink and snacks on the table and crawled into the empty space next to him, Aemond was quick to cover you with the blanket.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, his hand on your lower back to pull you to him and place a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Hey, Aem,” you smiled weakly.

“That bad, hmm?” he asked.

You laughed bitterly, feeling the tears well up again,”Yeah, that bad.”

“Want me to go beat him up? Run him over with my car? Set fire to his place? Just name it. I can make it look like an accident.”

Your laugh was sincere and his lips curled up into a smile of his own while his hand squeezed at your hip.

Despite your best efforts a tear ran down your cheek anyway.

“Hey, baby, don’t,” he whispered while his hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing your tears away,”Don’t cry, sweet girl.”

You leaned into him, resting your head on his chest and Aemond wrapped his arm around you, gently caressing your hair while he held you.

“You liked this one, didn’t you?” he asked with a sigh.

“No, he was a total jerk.”

Aemond’s other hand gently cupped your cheek, his eye meeting yours,”Then why the tears?”

“I’m just…so tired of meeting these assholes. He flirted with the waitress the entire time, right in front of me, even gave her his number, like I wasn’t even there and…it just made me feel so…unlovable.”

Aemond’s jaw tensed up and you could see anger boiling in his one good eye.

His thumb traced your jaw,“Give me his name and I will make him regret it.”

He sounded so intense and serious you weren’t sure if he was still joking or not and it made a shiver run up your spine.

“When you talk like that I almost think you mean it,” you pointed out.

“Almost?” he gave you a teasing little smirk and you shook your head, leaning into his touch and Aemond didn’t hesitate to wrap both arms around you and pull you into him. You melted into his arms and let the rest of your tears fall freely, knowing Aemond would hold you through every last one of them.

You felt like the luckiest girl alive having him as your best friend.

He tightened his hug, soothing you with sweet, comforting words while his hand softly stroked your hair.“It’s okay…I got you, sweetheart..it’s okay, he doesn’t deserve you…please don’t cry…It’s alright, baby, I’m here.”

This wasn’t new, you crying your heart out in Aemond’s arms, it happened way too often, but something felt different tonight. The pet names, the way his touches lingered and how hungry he looked at you in between made your stomach flutter. And you didn't want it to stop.

Your tears were soon forgotten and the horrible date faded into nothing but a distant memory as you relaxed under Aemond’s attention.

You were stroking up and down his back when you accidentally slipped your hand underneath his shirt, a small whimper left his lips at your unexpected touch. It encouraged you to do it again, letting your nails drag across his back, this time he let out a small moan and his hand tightened in your hair.

“Aem,” you buried your face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in and making him shiver. He was biting his lip to keep from moaning again as you continued to touch him. When you placed a soft, innocent kiss in his neck he lost that fight.

You couldn’t help but smile seeing the effect you had on him and you kissed him again, this time letting your tongue trace lightly over his skin until he shivered again. You pulled back.

“Don’t stop,” he whispered, grabbing the back of your neck to hold you close to him,”Please…please baby, don’t stop.”

His one hand moved down your back to cup your ass and pull your one leg over his, your knee bumping up against his growing erection.

There was no way you were going to stop now.

You kissed his neck again and Aemond pulled the blanket up a little higher, making sure no one else could see what you two were doing but everyone seemed too distracted watching the movie anyway.

Your hands moved underneath his shirt to touch his chest and stomach, his skin was warm, hard and soft at the same time and you could feel him shiver again, his hungry eyes begging you not to stop.

Aemond was losing his mind, your hands all over him were driving him crazy and when you started kissing his neck again he was suddenly rock hard in his sweatpants. He needed to take control back fast, he grabbed your wrists to hold you back.

“Turn around,” he begged in a husky voice, still breathing faster than usual.

He manoeuvred you into a different position so you were lying with your back up against his chest. You instantly missed the feeling of his skin under your hands but it was forgotten about quickly when Aemond gently moved your hair to one side, exposing your neck to him and then placing soft, hot kisses on your shoulder.

Now it was your turn to try and stay quiet and you were losing the fight just as quickly as he had, letting out a soft whimper when he started kissing and sucking your neck.

“Aem,” you breathed.

His mouth was right next to your ear,”You want me to stop?”

There was a teasing, smug tone to his voice, he knew damn well you didn’t want him to stop.

His hand moved up your hip, over your stomach to cup your breast through your shirt, thumb circling your nipple while he continued placing wet kisses all over your neck.

Your eyes closed in pure bliss. “Please,” you begged,”Touch me…under my shirt…please.”

You could feel his lips quirk up in a smile and he gave you what you asked for, pushing up your t-shirt and caressing your tits again, pinching your nipple in between his fingers while his teeth grazed your ear.”I’ve wanted to put my hands on you for so long…touch you just like this…fuck, you have no idea what you do to me…how hard you make me.”

To accentuate his words he carefully lifted his hips to push back against your ass, letting you feel his aching cock.

You squirmed in his arms.

“Shhh,” he purred,”You need to keep quiet or I have to stop, okay? Can’t let anyone see what we’re doing.”

You bit your lip and quickly nodded your head. Your hand was on his leg and you were squeezing hard while you pressed your own legs together trying to relieve some pressure.

To say you had never lusted after Aemond would be a lie. You had always found him gorgeous and intense in a very sexy way, but he was your best friend, somehow you had never allowed your mind to really go there. Until tonight, and now that you had opened that door there was no end to how much you desired him.

“Feel,” he breathed into your ear while he took your hand and placed it on his cock,”Feel how hard you make me.”

You rubbed him through his pants, making him growl into your ear. Before you could do it again he pushed your hand away and kissed your neck again.

“You’re squirming so much, little one, what is it?” he teased, an amused tone to his voice,”Is there something you need, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you breathed and you turned your head just enough to make brief eye contact with him,”I need you to touch me, Aem.”

You didn’t need to give him anymore details, he knew exactly what you meant.

“Can you be quiet for me?” Aemond checked, his tone serious.

“Hmm,” you confirmed.

He placed a soft kiss on your jaw while his hand moved down to your hip and then your inner thigh.”Spread your legs for me,” he whispered in your ear while placing your leg over his, spreading you open for him. You moved with him so easily and eagerly he cursed himself for not having done this sooner.

He caressed your hair and then placed his hand in the back of your neck, massaging softly and pulling your shirt down so he could kiss more of your shoulders and your back.

“Aem,” your voice was shaking,”Please…please.”

You had never begged so much in your life and every single one of your pleas was music to Aemond’s ears.

“Shhh, I got you,” he whispered, carefully untying your shorts and then slipping his hand underneath, teasing you by dragging his fingers over your panties,”Fuck, these are soaked right through. You are so wet, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t help but whimper at his words and Aemond grabbed your chin with his thumb, making you look back into his eye,”You really need it, don't you, sweetheart? Is that why you’re dripping all over my hand, hmm? You want it that bad?”

You nodded and bit your lip,”I want you that bad.”

His cock stirred at your words and the feel of your hot, wet pussy under his hand was becoming too much. Fuck it, he should just drag you to his bedroom right now and fuck you into his mattress, give into what he'd been craving for so long now. But he also wanted to save that part for later, when all your friends had gone home and he could have you all to himself, take his time to really worship you the way he always dreamed of.

This right here, teasing you and feeling your body burn up under his touch, was turning him on beyond reason and it would have to be enough for now.

His breath was hot and heavy in your ear,”You want me to touch you?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

He gently pulled your hair back, placing his lips on your ear as he whispered,”You want me to push your panties to the side and finger you right here, with all of our friends in the room? Would you like that, my sweet dirty girl?”

All you managed was a quiet moan in the back of your throat but it was enough confirmation for Aemond to continue.

“God, you’re such a bad girl,” he purred, licking the spot right below your ear,”You’ll be quiet for me, yeah? Otherwise I can’t continue, okay, baby?”

“I’ll be quiet,” you nodded,”I promise.”

You were lying, you couldn’t promise him a damn thing and you were pretty sure he knew that but both of you were too far gone to stop now. He could suggest fucking you right here with all of your friends as witnesses and you would probably still say yes, that’s how badly you needed him.

Aemond carefully pulled down your shorts and then pushed your panties aside. His long delicate fingers teasing your clit, circling it slowly and spreading your wetness all over your folds.

You bit your lip to keep your moans quiet.

“Good girl,” Aemond praised,”Good fucking girl…lean back against me.”

Your head fell back onto his shoulder and Aemond caressed your hair, nuzzling your neck and your cheek, his other hand still rubbing perfect circles over your most sensitive spot. He continued until he noticed you started breathing harder and faster, your nails digging into his thigh, your orgasm within reach.

His finger moved to tease your entrance and you were no longer able to hold back the quiet little moans escaping your lips. You wanted to beg and scream but you also didn’t want to make a single sound and be so good for him. Aemond didn’t stop, pushing his long delicate finger into your fluttering walls and the both of you gasped for air for a moment.

“Fuck,” he breathed,”Oh god, you’re so tight…so warm….and so fucking wet for me…fuck, baby, I can’t wait for you to take my cock.”

You moaned at his words and he was quick to cover your mouth with his free hand.

“Shhh shhh,” he insisted but he didn’t pull back, instead he added another finger and then just held them there without moving,”You can’t do that, sweetheart, they’ll hear us. Be a good girl for me, okay?”

You nodded quickly, desperate for him to move his fingers again.

“Here, bite my thumb,” he suggested, letting his finger brush over your lips. You were quick to take him into your mouth, sucking slowly and dragging your tongue all over it. Aemond instantly regretted his choice because now he was the one losing control again. The feel of your hot, wet mouth on him went straight to his cock and the thought of that mouth swallowing him whole was enough to almost set him off.

“Slow down,” he begged,”Please, baby, slow down…fuck, you’re gonna make me cum in my pants like some horny teenager if you keep doing that.”

You looked up at him with feigned innocence while you sucked harder, keeping your eyes on him.

“Stop!” he pulled his thumb from your mouth and you couldn’t help but smirk this time.

“Aemond, you have to be quiet,” you teased.

Aemond’s hand moved to your neck, not choking you but holding you still while he started fucking you with his fingers, taking back control.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“Maybe I should just keep teasing you, hmm?” he grunted in your ear,”Bad girls don’t get to cum and that…was very bad of you.”

He kept fucking you with his two fingers, curling them just right but as soon as he hit the sweet spot he pulled back.

“No, no please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Aem.”

He added pressure around your throat and started kissing your shoulder again, soft sweet kisses turned rough and he sucked your skin until it bruised, all while adding a third finger and fucking you faster. You were falling fast, biting down on your own hand now to stop from making too much noise.

“That’s my good girl,” he growled in your ear, while his thumb found your clit again,”I knew you could do it, sweetheart."

You were so close, your pussy clenching around him over and over, your climax was right there, all you needed was that last little…

“Cum for me, my sweet girl,” he whispered softly, teeth grazing your ear,”Come on..god, fuck you’re squeezing me so tight…shit….cum for me, baby, please. Please.”

He choked on his last word and you came hard, but not before moving your hand to his cock, rubbing him through his sweatpants until Aemond buried his face into your neck, muffling his own moan and spilling into his pants.

“Fuck, oh god you fucking little brat…fuck,” he breathed hard, wrapping both arms around you to hold you close to him. You stayed like that for a while until you turned around to be able to hug him back. Your eyes finally meeting his fully and the soft smile he greeted you with warmed your heart.

Aemond gently cupped your cheek.”Hey,” he whispered, suddenly shy again while biting down on his lip.

“Hey, you,” you smiled.

“Come here,” he leaned in to kiss your lips, slow and deep and so soft it was making your head spin again. You kissed him back with the same fire, melting into his embrace.

All those bad dates and horrible guys and you could have been doing this all along. Regret filled your senses and Aemond noticed the sudden serious expression in your eyes.

“Hey, you okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, concerned,"Was it too much? Did you not like all the teasing?"

"No, no god that was perfect," you reassured him,"I just…wish we’d done this sooner.”

His lisp curled up into the biggest smile, warming your heart,”Me too, but we’ll make up for lost time, I promise, my sweet girl.”

He leaned in to place another soft, lingering kiss on your lips.

It was Aegon’s loud and obnoxious voice that pulled you both out of your haze:”Are you guys about done so we can get back to watching the movie now? Jesus fucking Christ, the bedrooms are right there, you couldn’t have done that in there or waited until the movie was over? Fucking horny bastards.”

“Oh god,” you buried your face against Aemond’s chest in embarrassment and he hugged you close, shielding you from the others and giving his brother the finger but also unable to keep the happy grin off his face.

Then he did what Aegon suggested, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him towards his bedroom, under loud cheers from most of your friends.

Aemond turned around one last time to wink at Aegon,”Better turn up that volume cause we're not going to be quiet this time.”

He closed the door behind him just in time to dodge the pillow Aegon threw at him.

1K notes · View notes

nouveauvague · 8 days

Text

symptom of your touch.

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. smut & angst. friends with benefits.

All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given. But you… You were the only exception. Aemond cannot bear to lose you to Aegon too.

warnings. rough sex, creampie, breeding kink, dirty talk & degradation, mirror sex. unrequited love.

author’s note. titled after the aly & aj song but also heavily inspired by a taylor swift song!

word count. 7k+

It is Aegon who invited you to come over to watch movies with his family that night.

But when you make the two second walk from your front door to his just next door, your best friend isn’t even there.

“Where is he?”

Daeron shrugs at your question, opening the door wider so you can step inside the Targaryen household. “Dunno. He left, like, half an hour ago, though.”

You heave a sigh, tapping the phone in your hand.

To Aegon — where are you????

You hear their mother, Alicent, calling you from the kitchen so you make your way there.

“Hey, sweetie,” she greets with a gentle smile when she sees you. “Have you ate, yet?”

You nod, slipping onto an island stool beside Helaena. “I ate dinner just before I came over.”

You caress your hand on Aegon’s younger sister’s arm as a form of hello and she smiles sweetly at you while her mother lifts up a tupperware for you to see. “Well there’s leftovers here if you get hungry later, okay?”

“Thanks, Alicent,” you chirp as Alicent stores the food inside the refrigerator.

After an exhausted huff that causes the tendrils of the loosened hair from her bun to fly, Alicent still manages to give you a grin. “No problem, my love,” then with a frown, she looks down at the smatchwatch on her wrist. “Do you know where Aegon is? I thought we’re having a movie night?”

You shake your head. “I texted him but he hasn’t answered yet.”

“That boy… I swear…”

“Let’s just start without him,” Daeron suggests, strolling into the room to grab a can of Coke from the fridge. Alicent grabs the drink from his grasp before he could open it.

“You’ve already had too much today,” is all Alicent says when the soon to be high school senior whines out ‘mooom!’ .

“We can watch a movie we know he won’t like first so he doesn’t get mad when he comes back during the middle of it,” Helaena speaks up just as your phone vibrates with a new message.

From Aegon — i’ll be back soon 😘 — just start without me

You scowl, noting that he didn’t really answer your question. But whatever.

“Aegon said to start without him,” you tell his family.

Alicent sighs, head shaking. Then she turns to Helaena with a smile, “Bug, can you pick the movie?”

Helaena nods enthusiastically, hopping off the stool to do just that.

“Daeron, help me with the snacks,” Alicent instructs, already grabbing bowls from the cupboards. “And ____, sweetie, can you get Aemond? He’s in his room.”

The request has you gnawing on your bottom lip, reluctant, but you take a deep breath and say, “Yeah, sure.”

Alicent looks over her shoulder, kind eyes on you. “Thank you.”

Then her attention is back on Daeron, who once again tries to open a can of pop. “Daeron!”

You leave them to enter the small hallway, stopping at the bottom of the staircase. You stare up at the second floor, anxiousness twisting knots in your stomach.

You have not spoken to Aemond since the party at Quentyn Martell’s last weekend.

You still remember the crushing look of hurt on his handsome face when you told him what you needed to tell him, all too well.

Every step you take up the stairs reminds you how awful you’ve been to him all summer. It was completely unintentional, but you can’t deny how selfish you’ve been. Especially since you know that Aemond would be willing to do it over and over again if you only asked him to.

You rap on Aemond’s door with the back of your hand, hearing him call from inside, “Yes?”

“We’re, um, gonna start movie night now…” you trail off, speaking to the closed door. Your voice is so soft, like you don’t want to be heard by him. “If you wanna—”

The door suddenly swings open, and you meet Aemond’s wide open stare.

You cannot help but stare back. You still cannot believe this is your best friend’s younger brother. The gangly boy you grew up with.

Aemond has filled out more, still lean yet definitely defined in all the right places. He chopped off his gorgeously long hair into a cropped haircut for the first time in forever. Although you were initially sad about the haircut, the short hair grew on you. Especially when he styled it to part neatly to the side — he looks so handsome.

When you saw him for the first time in the beginning of the summer, you thought you were dreaming.

His first year away from home was good to him.

“Hey,” you breathe out, offering him a wavering smile.

He takes you in completely, violet eyes washing over you. Every second has you feeling smaller, nervous for his final reaction. Then finally — “Hey.”

An uncomfortable silence falls between the two of you. And you feel so uneasy, you had to turn away from his stare, cocking your head down the stairs. “Um, we should…”

Frowning, Aemond nods. “Right.”

He slips out his room to walk ahead of you, and for some reason your stupid, stupid guilty conscious makes a grab for his arm to stop him on his track.

“Wait, Aemond–” He stiffens under your touch. You press your lips together before asking, “Do you want to talk about what happened first?”

Aemond whips his head to look at you, and you notice the dark circles under his sullen eyes. He looks so sad and you hate yourself because you know you are the reason.

He shakes his head slowly, prying your hands off him with such gentle care. You’re not sure if he is trying not to hurt you or himself. “No. Let’s just have a good night tonight, alright?”

After a tentative nod, you follow him down the stairs and to the living room, lagging a few steps behind to give him space.

Unfortunately, since the two of you are the last to arrive, the only seat available is beside each other on the couch. But luckily, since Aegon isn’t there yet, there is a comfortable space between the two of you.

After the second movie is done, Alicent heads to bed first for work in the early morning. Being a widowed mother for eight years already, Alicent has gotten used to being the breadwinner for the family even if now her children are helping support her — with the three oldest already in university with decent paying jobs on the side. She can stop working if she wanted to — Viserys left a big inheritance — but you think she’s just lonely and needs something to occupy her time during the year when the home is empty except for her and Daeron.

Halfway through the third movie, Helaena says her goodnight with a yawn. She hugs you and Aemond, then kisses Daeron’s forehead (which he pretends to be grossed out by), before she heads upstairs to her room.

Before the fourth movie even starts, Daeron’s snores are resounding loud in the room, mouth wide open and asleep on the reclined leather chair. Aemond sits up to throw the blanket that Helaena had abandoned on his little brother and then settles right back down beside you — even though there is another couch now empty for him to sit on.

With Aemond by your side the entire night, you tried not to look at your phone out of respect for him and his feelings. But as it gets later and later, you can’t help but start looking between the television playing the fourth movie, your phone, and the door like clockwork.

You’re worried. It’s already past midnight and Aegon is still not home.

You’ve sneakily texted him a couple of times during the first two movies, but he hasn’t answered.

You open up SnapChat now, knowing that would probably give you an idea on where he might be.

Of course, the first story you see is of Aegon sticking his tongue down Jeyne Westerling’s throat just 10 minutes ago.

You close off the app with a disgusted grunt, finally deciding it’s time to go.

“I’m gonna head home,” you tell Aemond after an irritated huff.

“I– alright…”

When you stand up, Aemond does too. He follows you to the front door.

“You can stay the night,” Aemond says before you step into your shoes.

You stand up straight, still no shoes on, to give him a wan smile, “I have my perfectly good bed just next door, Aemond.”

Aemond nods slow, glaring at the ground. Then his gaze flicks up to meet yours, his purple eyes so intense that your mouth parts in a soft gasp. He presses his lips together to wet him with his tongue, and rephrases his previous statement into a question, “Do you want to stay the night… with me?”

Your heart catches in your throat.

“I thought that– Didn’t you—” you draw a slow, deep breath; trying again so you don’t stumble your words anymore, “You said you wanted to stop this.”

“I was drunk when I said that.”

“Drunk words are sober thoughts,” you remind him.

Aemond scoffs, looking off to the side. “Then that saying is clearly false.”

Then his gaze finds yours again, wide and imploring. Don’t make me ask again, his pretty violet eyes say, because you know I will. I always will.

You should say no and go home.

It’s a terrible idea and you’ll regret it now that you know how much it hurts him when you leave him after.

But your better judgment gets away from you, remembering how Aemond’s body feels against yours.

“Okay…I’ll stay the night, ” You tell him, slow yet sure. “…With you.”

Aemond lets out a shuddering breath he had been holding, cupping your face to pull you into an unhurried and tender kiss. It’s sweet and chaste. That’s how it always starts.

As quiet as you both can, you slip into his room together, Aemond’s hand holding yours.

As soon as he locks his door behind him, Aemond’s mouth is on yours again. This time with more heat, stoking a burning flame deep in your loins. His large hands slip under your shirt, grasping tight on your hips. When your mouth parts with a keening mewl, he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, deepening the kiss with a pleasured grunt of his own.

Aemond pulls apart from you, glancing down to unbutton and unzip your jeans with experienced quickness.

“Off,” he commands between heaving breaths, watching you through dark and hooded eyes as you do exactly what he says.

When you kick away your jeans, Aemond is already pulling you back to him and pushing your back against the wall, lifting up your right leg around his waist to grind the hard bulging in his pants against your panty covered core.

You stutter out a moan into his mouth, and he hushes you, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and nipping until they feel swollen and raw. You damage his the same with every fervent kiss you crush against his mouth.

Neither of you stop, unable to pull away from the other’s lips or grinding hips. Not even when Aemond slips a hand down and pressed his fingers onto the cotton of your frilly black panty, the pads of his fingers becoming wet and sticky at the contact.

It has him choking out an airy moan, cursing under his breath. “Seven Hells… you’re soaked.”

You bite at his shoulder to suppress a whine, bucking into his fingertips as they tease the sensitive button between your thighs.

“All for me, right, pretty girl?” He huskily murmurs in your ear, his finger rubbing and rubbing until your legs start to shake around him.

You nod fervently at Aemond’s question, and he rewards you with a smirk, another bruising kiss, and his fingers pulling your panty to the side to trace up and down the folds of your cunt. He spreads your slick with every slow glide, and it has you needy for something more.

“Aemond, please…”

He lets out a husky chuckle as you feel his fingers teasing at your entrance. You move your hips to try to force it to slip into you, but Aemond pulls away with a playful hum. “Uh-Uh.”

Your mouth opens to protest, but then Aemond suddenly tucks a finger inside you. It has you keening and whining instead, grasping onto him tightly.

“Good girl,” Aemond praises breathily against your temple. He put another finger in beside the first and starts fucking into you at a moderate pace and occasionally scissoring wide. You wince at the stretch but you love it. His fingers slide slowly in and out of you, deeper each time until they’re all the way down to the knuckles, curling so it hits your sweet spot. Biting down your bottom lip, you stifle a moan as you come undone, dripping onto Aemond’s hand. He groans without stopping the flick of his wrists, keeps you shaking and writhing against him throughout your whole orgasm, “That’s it… That’s a good girl.”

Once you’re spent, Aemond pulls his fingers out of you. He brings it up between you, both noticing how much it gleams, fully covered in your juices. Keeping his gaze in yours, Aemond presses his soaked digits against your bottom lip, which you open without hesitation, darting your tongue out to taste yourself on him. Aemond grunts, sticking his fingers deeper in your mouth. Eyelash fluttering at him, you close your lips around his digits with a hum, sucking and licking until your essence is nearly gone.

Aemond grins in satisfaction, gaze soft with endearment, and then he is kissing you once more.

“I can’t wait any more,” he tells you, pressing his hard bulge onto you as evidence of that.

Stumbling onto the bed, Aemond falls over you; his mouth hot on the juncture of your jaw and neck; and his hand spanning wide and grazing up your ribcage, dragging your shirt up with him.

He groans when his thumb brushes across the underside of your breast, finding you bare.

“Knew you weren’t wearing anything underneath, little tease,” he sneers in your ear, biting at the lobe while his fingers twists at a nipple until it pebbles under his touch. “That’s why you came over, right? Wanted me begging for another taste?”

Eyes squeezing shut, you shake your head no.

That’s not what you wanted. You didn’t come over to hurt him again.

But when Aemond dips down and his warm mouth latches onto the nipple on the side of your chest that his hand was not already groping tenderly, your back arches for him. For more.

And so there might have been a small chance that he is right in his assumptions.

You feel Aemond’s teeth grazing your skin. And when you glance down at him with a whimper, he meets your gaze with mirth and something more feral in his own. Then he is biting down around the well-sucked and hardened nub, teeth marks replacing the one he made there last week that is fading away.

As your hand threads through his hair, Aemond’s tongue laves across the valley of your breast, tasting salt skin, and then proceeds to do the same to that nipple exactly what he had done to the one before.

His hand trails down, pushing your underwear aside once more to press his fingers inside again — though this time, it’s slow and his thumb is drawing lazy circles around your clit.

You come for the second time that night like that, from the combination of him fingerfucking you and biting your chest multiple times as if laying his claim on you.

Aemond sits up on his knees to look down at you.

He admires the sight of you laying under him with your shirt rucked up over your tits, heavily breathing, nipples wet and raw from his mouth, and your cunt dripping for him while your thighs are covered in your mess that he made of you.

Aemond hunches over, a palm pressed on the mattress just beside your head and his other hand gripping so tightly around your jaw that your mouth falls open.

“You’re such a messy slut ,” Aemond sneers at you, but his tone has a hint of lightness in it, praiseful; and when he spits in your mouth right after, you swallow it down with a contented mewl. There’s a glint of possessiveness in Aemond’s dilated eyes, the violet irises hardly visible anymore.

“ My messy slut,” he all but growls, kissing you again and again and again.

There is something about the way Aemond kisses you. It is like he is trying to put all his mounting feelings there against your lips, because he knows if he says it aloud, you will just likely run away.

So you let him. Let Aemond kiss you as though the two of you are lovers. Like this isn’t just a beneficial arrangement between two lonely and desperate people.

When he pulls back, he stares at you for a while, his hand curled at the side of your face while his thumb tenderly grazes along the fullness of your cheek. He licks his lips, as if he is going to say something, but then he stops and shakes his head to himself.

“Come on, get on all fours,” he commands instead, laying a solid smack on your outer thigh to get you moving. You roll over, getting on your elbows and knees while also throwing a playful glare over your shoulder at him, mouthing a reminder that his sister is just in the room next door.

After rolling his eyes, Aemond pulls his shirt off and throws it carelessly somewhere in his room and pulls his jeans and underwear enough for his hard cock to spring out.

You entice him with a sway of your hips, and what you get in return is a slap over your cunt. It makes you accidentally yelping out loud, but you cut it off by dropping your head forward to bite down on the pillow beneath you.

“Act like a whore and you get treated like one,” Aemond reminds you, gripping your hips hard enough to leave indents of crescent moons on your skin. You nod in understanding, smearing makeup all over his pillowcase.

Aemond grabs the fat of your ass, spreading your cheeks apart. It feels so lewd, how you feel him leering at the way both your holes clenches, how you’re absolutely dripping down your legs and onto the cover of his bed.

“The prettiest little pussy in the whole Seven Kingdoms,” Aemond murmurs, so softly as if he had not meant to say it out loud, and yet the compliment sends a thrill down your spine while you whimper for him.

But that does not compare to the noise you make when he gathers up saliva in his mouth, only to slowly dribble it out to drop onto you, letting it drip down the cleft of your ass all the way down through the folds of your pussy. “But it’s so soaked and eager for cock like a slut.”

You can’t help but hum in agreement, pushing back to grind your ass along his length. He lays a wet smack to your ass for that little disobedient act, though before you can arch away, he pulls you towards him, his cock spearing you wide open. In this position, you feel every twitch of the veins on his cock while he reaches so deep inside you. The leaking head of his cock pressing against that sweet spot with every thrust of his hips against your ass. You shut your eyes to focus on the wonderful feeling.

“Gods, you’re so tight and sweet,” Aemond hisses, throwing his head back. The way your cunt squeezes around him is like a chokehold. It’s hard for him to breathe at how amazing it feels, his body moving and his heart racing for more.

He looks back down again, the sight of the mixture of his precum and your juices frothing around the base of his cock as he slams into you again and again has him groaning.

He grabs onto a fistful of your hair, pulls you up until your back hits his chest. The new position has you sinking down on his cock, writhing and mewling with every inch you take.

“Look up,” Aemond whispers in your ear, and when your eyes finally flutter open, you see the reflection of yourself and Aemond in the mirrored sliding door of his closet. It is quite a sight – your red-rimmed eyes, your tear stained cheeks, the heavy heaving of your arched chest, the hickeys and bite marks all over your body, and the way your glistening cunt is stretched so wide around Aemond’s huge cock. “Gods, you’re gorgeous. And you look so good getting fucked.”

To prove his point, he guides you to ride him with his hands on your hips.

“Keep your eyes on me, sweetheart,” Aemond orders as he pulls your hair back tighter, fucking up into you when he pushes your hips down. You moan out his name which makes him smirk, his hand covering your mouth to muffle your incoherent and pleasured noises. “Shh… Shh… Shh… If you get any louder, someone’s gonna barge in here and see how you’re such a cockslut for me… So just keep quietly taking my cock like a good little girl, yeah?”

Nodding, you press your lips together in hopes to obey him, not wanting to get punished when you are so close. You watch yourself in the mirror getting fucked so roughly, the heat inside you continuing to build up.

“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” Aemond hotly murmurs against the side of your neck, leaving more hickeys there as a reminded of tonight.

You’re greedy. So greedy.

You love the way Aemond makes you feel.

He fucks you rough and hard in the way you crave; but with every touch, you feel his adoration for you.

You revel in it.

Greedy. Greedy. Greedy.

“Come on, baby, come on my cock — Fuck! You look so good, bouncing on my cock… Can’t wait to fill your tight little cunt… Gonna breed you— yeah? You like that, little slut? Fuck, that’s what I thought…”

Aemond loses it when you nod at his accusation of you wanting him to breed you. He drives into you until your eyes start to roll back, seeing stars.

You made him this way. This is how you slowly coaxed him to take you. When this first started, Aemond was sweet and caring, cooing praises into your ear with every slow thrust of his hips. But as it went on, you asked more of him. A hand squeezing around your neck, a strike rippling your bottom until it’s bruised, had him uttering spiteful and awful names that made you cry — you don’t know why but that’s how you like it.

(Perhaps it’s because of the rumors you heard about another Targaryen guy who likes to fuck girls just as roughly.)

At the thought, you come impossibly hard. Your squirt goes everywhere, has Aemond slipping out at how wet it is. He groans in both frustration and satisfaction, pushing back inside you just in time to fill you up to the brim with his cum. He empties inside you, rolling your hips against him until you are too sensitive, whimpering for him to hold on a second.

Aemond does not care and does not give you a moment to catch your breath, already pushing you back down on the bed and turning you on your side, lifting your leg to hang on his shoulder and guides his already hardened cock back inside you again. Though feeling oversensitive now, you can’t deny how much you want more. Until you can’t think anymore about why your best friend still hasn’t made his way home yet or whose bed he ended up in tonight.

Aemond fucks you until the morning light, has you shaking and quivering and cumming in every new position — on your back, in a mating press, his tongue spreading over you, behind you again…

It’s because it has been a week since he had you, so really, he is just making up for lost time.

You wake up cuddling with Aemond, after only a few hours of sleep. But you feel well rested despite that and the strenuous activities you partook in all night and early morning.

Humming in content, you nuzzle your face into the nape of Aemond’s neck. Surprisingly, this morning you are the big spoon, your arm and leg thrown over Aemond’s body like a clingy koala.

Ever the light sleeper, the butterfly kisses you leave on his spine has Aemond stirring, turning his body in a still half-asleep pace to face you.

“Mornin’,” he drawls huskily, an adorable sleepy grin on his lips.

“Good morning,” you greet back with a smile, a bit more chirpy and awake. You lean in to give him a sweet peck on his lips, but Aemond pulls you in for something deeper as his hand slides to the nape of your neck in a possessive hold. You mewl as his tongue slips in your mouth and when you feel him thickening up against your thigh.

Gently, you push him onto his back, mouth still on each other with passionate kisses as you climb on top of him. You only part for his lips for a second to grab his hard cock to ease your cunt over it, sliding him inside you with a wet squelch.

Aemond sighs at the tight clench of your walls around him, languidly kissing you while you roll your hips over him. The sex is slow and sweet, gentler than all the ones the two of you had in the last eight hours.

You cream around him in such a lovely way, softly moaning his name in his ear for only him to hear. That’s all it takes for Aemond to come inside you again.

“I need to pee,” you tell Aemond a couple minutes later, your fingers running gently through his hair while his face is tucked into the crook of your shoulder.

Aemond doesn’t immediately let you free, he even tightens his arms around you. He pulls his head back though, the back of it hitting the wall behind him, just to peer at your pretty face.

“Just piss on my cock… You’d probably like that,” he says with a teasing smirk.

You shove at him, laughing as you get up from his softened length and off the bed too. “Shut up!”

Once you find your tiny crop top, you put it on. You find your underwear too, but it’s so ruined that you throw it at Aemond instead. He catches it easily, balling it up in his hand and takes a deep inhale, all the while without taking his gaze off you.

Though the sight makes you heat up from head to toe, you wrinkle your nose at him. “Gross.”

Aemond only grins. He knows you well enough — you like depraved shit like that. If you already weren’t so stuffed full of his cum, he’ll probably find you wet again just from his little panty sniffing stunt.

As you put on your jeans and socks, you and Aemond are making playful conversation.

It’s easy. It’s nice. It feels a little too domestic that it has Aemond thinking this could be a start of something. But he knows he shouldn’t get his hopes up like this.

“— I still can’t believe the Oberyn Martell is actually going to be a professor at your uni next year…”

“You know, it’s never too late to transfer,” Aemond tells you with a frown. The school he is attending now was your dream school all your life, and yet when you got in, you declined the offer – to go to the same school as his brother. “You got in once. You can easily do it again.”

“Yeah, but…” You are standing by his desk, flipping through the brochure detailing the seminars Oberyn Martell, a famous political journalist, will be holding for the rest of the year before his official classes for the next year at Dorne University. You shrug, sending a weak smile his way, “King is pretty good too. I’ve no real complaints except for…”

In the middle of speaking, you trail off, staring out the window as a heavy revving of an old car engine can be heard outside.

Aemond already knows who it is.

It’s Aegon, pulling up into the driveway in his sleek red 1968 Shelby. But what really gives it away is how your brows knit together as you watch Aegon walk up the pathway, whistling happily without a care in the world, as if he wasn’t out all night making you worried sick.

Aemond is looking at you the same – longingly and sad. Hoping and wishing and praying for you to feel something for him, even just a tiny bit of what you feel for his older brother.

“I should go,” you tell Aemond with a wan smile after you quickly check yourself in the mirror to fix anything amiss.

Sighing tiredly, all Aemond can do is nod as he stares down on his lap.

Without another word, you leave him there glancing down at his hands that just touched you all night, memorized every curve of your body, and found all the right places that made you sing in pleasure.

But it’s not enough. It’s never enough.

Aemond heads downstairs ten minutes after you left, already hearing laughter coming from the kitchen. The air smells of fresh brewed coffee, bacon, eggs, and waffles.

He passes by Daeron in the living room. The youngest Targaryen has a plate of all of that beside where he sits on the ground while his focus is on the story-driven zombie apocalyptic video game on the television screen.

When Aemond arrives at the kitchen, he stands by the arch of the door, leaning on his side against it with his arms crossed in front of him.

He hates how his heart aches, watching as you laugh so joyfully at a story Aegon is animatedly telling while he pours maple syrup on a plate of waffles that the two of you were sharing . Aemond knows you don’t like things too sweet, and yet you allow Aegon to drown the waffles until they are soggy.

It’s always like this. You give, Aegon takes. You give up your dream school because Aegon’s fragile ego couldn’t handle being rejected and wants you beside him at all times. You let him treat you like shit because you are so in love with him.

You’re so enraptured by Aegon’s attention finally on you that you don’t even notice that Aemond has been there for a while.

Aegon tells a joke that has you laughing so hard, your head tilting back to expose your neckline.

All of the sudden, Aegon stops laughing with you, a frown on his face as his hand reaches out to touch a mark on your neck. “I didn’t know you’re hooking up with someone…”

Clearing your throat, you pull away from his touch, smoothing your hair down to hide the mark. “I’m not.”

Aegon rolls his eyes, “Oh, cause you really gave yourself a hickey… right. So who is it?” He starts to name all the guys the two of you know, and everytime you shake your head and tell him to stop, he just gets even more annoyed and angry.

Aemond can tell that Aegon is jealous, always so possessive of you even though he doesn’t want you. But you don’t notice, you just think he’s mad cause he thinks you are screwing one of his friends.

“Can you just let it go, Aegon?” You grit out, after telling him once again that no, you are not screwing either of the Cargyll twins.

“I don’t get why you won’t tell me who it is? I tell you about all the girls I hook up with all the time!”

“And you think I want to know?”

“Just– tell me–”

“She said to let it go, Aegon,” Aemond barks out, finally making his presence known.

Aegon stares between his brother and you, breathing heavily in anger.

“Whatever. I don’t need this,” Aegon fumes in conclusion, storming out the kitchen door that leads to the backyard, and it slams close behind him.

Chewing at your lip, your gaze is set on the door he just left from.

Aemond takes a tentative step towards you. “Don’t, ___…” You glance towards him, the telltale sign that you are about to burst out crying evident in the hiccupy way you are trying to get air through your parted mouth. Aemond presses his lips together, trying to convince you to stay by how carefully he is approaching you. You deserve to be treated as a first choice. Aemond would always treat you as such. “Stop… Stop always being at his beck and call.”

You seem to think about it. Maybe he can finally get through to you — but then the revving of Aegon’s car is so loud, it snaps you out of it. You frown, eyes watering. “I’m so sorry, Aemond…”

Then you are running out after Aegon like you always seem to be.

And for the third time that summer, you crush Aemond’s heart beyond repair.

Summer’s ending, and every single day, Aemond’s wishing for it to just be over.

Sure he can change his flight back to Sunspear to an earlier one, but he knows his mother would question why and also be incredibly sad about it. Aemond does not have the heart to do that to her.

He has all his luggage packed already, eager to just book it to the airport as soon as he is able to.

It’s been too much to bear. He still sees you pretty much every day but he hasn’t talked to you since that morning a week and half ago.

But of course, you and Aegon have reconciled. Attached to the hips once again. Best friends forever and ever and ever and ever — just like the two of you would often promise each other since you were young.

Aemond calls it the honeymoon period. When you and Aegon make up after a fight (one that Aegon is usually the cause of and the one that starts it for no reason) and spend every waking minute together for the next few weeks. Aegon will demand for your time whenever he wants it, has you waiting by your phone for his call and canceling plans that he is not a part of. You don’t seem to mind though, as long as Aegon showers you with needy and dependent affections… Until a new girl catches his eyes that has him wagging his tail and tongue hanging out. He then neglects your friendship in pursuit to get in her bed, causing another fight.

Rinse and repeat.

The cycle will never end.

Not unless you end it. Decide that you’ve had enough of Aegon treating you like a convenient option instead of a priority.

Or more unlikely, for Aegon to finally return your feelings.

But Aemond highly doubts either of those will ever happen.

“Hey, are you ready yet?”

Speak of the devil…

Aegon peeks his head inside Aemond’s room. He didn’t even bother to at least knock before he barged in. He takes a look at where Aemond is sitting against the headboard of his bed with a book in his hands — dressed in dark blue jeans, a plain white t-shirt with a black short-sleeved shirt loose and unbuttoned over it.

“Oh good, you are!” Aegon then opens the door wider. “Actually, can I talk to you about something?”

Aemond huffs in irritation, and before he can even answer, Aegon steps inside like he owns the place, closing the door behind him.

Aegon takes his sweet time – glancing around, picking up things on Aemond’s desk to look at, then putting it back down, flicking at the picture taped on the wall… Finally, he turns to face Aemond and comes out with it, “Do you know who _____ is hooking up with?”

Aemond’s eyes widen slightly but then quickly keeps his expression carefully neutral, not wanting to give anything away. “No. Why would I know?”

Aegon nods slowly, but there’s something about the way his lips purses to the side seems disbelieving.

Aemond clears his throat after standing up from the bed. “Why are you even asking me?”

Did you tell Aegon something? About you and him?

“I dunno, just asking…” Aegon shrugs, mouth pulled down in an exaggerated frown. “…You two have been spending a lot of time together lately, so I just thought you would know.”

With narrowed eyes, Aemond reminds him, “The only reason we’ve been spending a lot of time together is because you’re always ditching her for other girls.”

Aegon licks his lips and then grins uncomfortably at how his younger brother just called him out. “I see that now… I think it’s because I—“ Aegon stops mid sentence and sniffs noisily, rubbing his hand over his mouth as he starts to pace a bit.

Aemond is quick to pick up on his brother’s odd behaviour and eyes him quizzically.

Then Aegon stops and looks directly into Aemond’s eyes — an expression of open vulnerability sets on Aegon’s features that Aemond feels his stomach drop.

Oh fuck no… Don’t you fucking dare say it, Aemond thinks with a slight shake of his head.

“I think I like her, Aemond,” Aegon confesses, eyes wide and watery. “I think I’m gonna tell her tonight.”

At his sides, Aemond clenches his fists, his nails biting into his palms enough to hurt. But his expression remains unbothered, apathetic even.

“Why are you telling me as if I care what you do with your life?”

Aegon chuckles with a roll of his eyes. “ Please, I’m not a complete idiot…” He is grinning as he takes a step closer to Aemond. “I know you’re in love with her…” Aemond cringes at the truth being said so loud in his otherwise quiet room. “…and you have been ever since we were young.”

Aemond’s glare on Aegon is heated.

So Aegon knew, and yet he always held your loyalty and preference to him over Aemond’s head.

With another step forward, Aegon is right in front of Aemond. The younger Targaryen’s nostrils flare, trying to keep his anger in check with his steady breathing.

“And I’m not cruel, Mondy…” Aegon says, and yet he is looking up at him with a taunting smirk. “I care about you, so I just wanted to give you a heads up.”

Then, just as he is about to turn and leave Aemond’s room, he clamps a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder, fingers digging in as he sneers into Aemond’s ear, “And just so you know… I intended to replace every filthy mark you’ve stained on her body with my own.”

Aegon’s smirk then turns to a playful smile as he lightly smacks Aemond’s cheek twice. “Mum wants to leave soon to get a good spot at the beach, so hurry up, yeah?”

Once again alone in his room, Aemond lets out the ragged breath he had not known he was even holding. He takes a seat on the edge of his bed, pressing the heels of his palms against his forehead enough to hurt — but it's still not as bad as the squeezing of his heart.

It is a Targaryen family tradition to celebrate the annual summer festival that marks the end of summer at Blackwater Bay beach. But obviously with what Aegon has planned to do tonight, Aemond would rather be anywhere but there.

When Alicent’s mini Cooper pulls into the parking lot of the beach, Aemond guesses it’s a little too late to back out. He steps out of the car, just as a red Shelby parks just right beside them.

Aegon exits his car, sunglasses on even though it’s already pretty dark outside. You’re not with him, Aemond notes, only the Cargyll twins follow after Aegon. You must be coming here with Alys and them.

Aemond helps Alicent grab the coolers from the back of the Cooper along with Daeron, letting Helaena take the lead to a perfect grassy area to watch the fireworks from. Aemond doesn’t stick around, deciding to walk the boardwalk that trails along the beach.

That is when Aemond catches sight of you, in a pretty white linen summer dress and your toes already in the sand. You are laughing with Alys and Rhaena, a lit up sparkler in your hand.

So pretty, like a shining star.

So close, yet so out of reach.

Just when he is about to step onto the white sand to make his way to you, someone bumps harshly past his shoulder.

With a scowl, Aemond watches on in bitter jealousy as Aegon runs to you, feet on the sand and an unlit sparkler in his hand. He captures your attention with a call of your name, and you look back at him, smiling so beautifully — a smile solely reserved for Aegon. It has your girlfriends giggling, skipping away arm in arm to give the two of you some time alone together.

With a nod, you press the tip of your sparkling sparkler to light his.

As soon as it does, Aegon leans close, murmuring something in your ear. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide, a mixture between guarded and hopeful.

In the dark, Aemond can barely read your lips,

You do?

Aegon nods.

Then his lips are on yours just as fireworks light up the night sky in brilliant arrays of colors and patterns.

It’s a picture perfect scene. One that could be in the movies when the leading hero finally gets the girl.

And as always, Aemond is left way far down on the list of credits in the story of Aegon’s life.

All through his life, Aemond got used to it; toiling for the things that Aegon is freely given.

When Aegon got his father’s beloved car when he passed away, Aemond didn’t care.

When Aemond got into the best school in the whole Seven Kingdoms and yet the fanfare wasn’t nearly as huge as when Aegon got into King’s Landing U, Aemond also didn’t care.

But even if he had anticipated it happening again – he didn’t think it would hurt this much.

Because it’s you . You are the one thing that Aemond wanted so badly for himself. He has been in love with you all his life and would have done anything for you, if you’d only let him.

Aemond chuckles bitterly, tearing his gaze away from you and Aegon, still locking lips.

Now you’re just another prize that Aegon has won without merit.

And Aemond?

He is the fool who stupidly got his hopes up — because all along, you were never even his to lose.

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nouveauvague · 11 days

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The Ashes In My Wake

Request: Please may I request something with Billy Washington? Perhaps something where he is jealous/possessive over his lady. We don’t have enough Billy content and you write him so well!

@bouncehousedemons

Billy Washington x Unnamed OFC

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, Trigger Point spoilers(ish)

Word Count: 2K

Note: I’m taking so long with requests but c’est la vie

The bass from the speakers rattled his every organ, but the thrum of guitar and the singer’s rasping voice were warped by the breath ringing in his ears. All around him, the crowd brayed with laughter, pulsed and lurched, shouted words to songs Billy didn’t know. Some edged away from him with disgusted looks. Others laughed. A few were scrabbling at him, their hands pouring from the darkness to pull him away.

Billy hadn’t meant to do it. Not really. Dark spaces crammed with writhing, sweaty bodies weren’t his scene. Give him a pint of pilsner at the pub any day. But when she’d begged him, arms wrapped about the small of his waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing the freckles of his stomach, he’d caved. Surely he owed her something? She had dinner at his parents’, somehow got Lana to like her, let him fuck her. Even dragged him away from those pathetic, self-mutilating thoughts. One night peppered with furtive cigarettes in the piss-stained alley and a quick jägerbomb or three at the bar while she danced her heart out couldn’t hurt. Not him at least.

He'd been gone three minutes, fidgeting with the ring on his index finger, pint of whatever’s cheapest and some water, when his discomfort turned into something more sinister. Sure, he’d wanted to punch the twat’s teeth through the back of his skull the moment he sauntered toward her, the rock of his hips matching perfectly to the sway of hers. Yes, when the dickhead brushed her hair away from her head to whisper something, Billy wanted to pull that stupid fucking neckerchief so hard it made his eyes bulge. But when she threw her head back in laughter and the bellend, with his sleeve of stick and pokes, flashed a vulpine grin with those perfect teeth, Billy’s mind went blank with jealousy. He hadn’t meant to do it, but somehow, he knew that he had.

Over the heads of the crowd, Billy saw two men clad in black weaving towards them. She was screaming at him, hair whipping around her face as she hit his chest. Whatever she shouted was inaudible over the music, her spit flecking his cheeks. The dickhead, with his greaser’s hair and shit tattoos, clutched his nose. At his side, clenched into a ball of perfect rage, Billy’s knuckles were already purpling.

A wayward thud caught him in the sternum and, momentarily breathless, he looked down. Her eyes were red with fury, cheeks flushed from the exertion of dancing and the electricity of her anger, and Billy had to fight not to smile through his hot rage. A hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him backwards. The bouncers.

“Fuck off,” he twisted from their grip and pointed at the twat stood perilously close to his girlfriend. “Don’t fucking touch her again!” The man in the leather jacket stared at him in all his wild-eyed fury, wiped his nose of blood and stepped closer to her.

“You’re a fucking psycho, mate.” He pulled at the collar of his jacket and puffed out his chest. “You need to be put away.”

“Just fuck off!” As he yelled it, so did she. The ghost of a grin shadowed Billy’s face and his heart hammered with pride.

“Don’t think much of your taste, love,” The creep was smiling now, and though he spoke to the woman before him, his eyes bore into Billy’s, whose own fell to his girlfriend. She stared at the man who had so pleased her minutes before. Her face was unreadable, a mixture of anger, exasperation and, was that assent? For a moment, fleeting and pitiable, Billy stilled. The bouncers slackened their hold on his shoulders, and the try-hard backed into the dancing revellers.

“Insecure little prick.”

The stranger knew he was in trouble and his mirthless laughter died. This girl’s fella was scrawny, yes, but when his eyes flickered from her lovely face to his, the pathetic loser he had once seen was replaced by the animal within. It happened almost imperceptibly. The hard nose, carved from stone and no doubt impossible to break, flared with readying breaths. Beneath its shadow, his small scar curved as the thin lips bared across his teeth in a snarl. What scared the man most though, were his eyes. Set beneath a heavy brow, they seemed to flicker under the strobes. With each flash of white, his eyes turned to glass, focused on the man before him and nothing else. Everything about this boy was sharp, and the pain in the stranger’s broken nose seemed to numb. Whatever agony he thought he was in, the next blow would be worse. With a growl and slash of his wiry hands, Billy launched at the cunt.

He caught the man across the face, his nails tearing the skin. Before the bouncers could react or she could intervene, his other fist collided with the underside of the greaser’s ribs. The force of Billy’s punch caused the blood gathered in his nose and the back of his throat to rip past his lips. A few women shrieked and the bouncers leapt suddenly into action. Before they could, two small and solid hands pushed Billy backwards.

“What THE FUCK is wrong with you, Bill?” He stared at her. One of the bouncer’s meaty hands closed around his upper arm and pulled him away.

“What’s wrong with me? WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME!? I didn’t agree come to this shitty gig just to watch you flirt with Danny fucking Zuko!” The man, who had stood aside to laugh at their argument, flinched as Billy lurched forwards once again. The second bouncer gripped a fistful of Billy’s hoodie and yanked, the force causing him to land on his arse. The surrounding crowd oohed and laughed at him. Someone pulled him off the ground and shoved him towards the door. “Fuck off! I’m going.” And without a glance backwards, pushing past bellowing spectators and carrying the last of his pride, Billy stalked from the club.

Drizzle glimmered blue on the black street. Shops were shuttered and a few late-night revellers swayed as they said their goodbyes. Billy took out his phone, her face smiling up at him from the screen. 23.54. He sighed, lit a cigarette and, pulling up the collar of his hoodie, meandered home.

“Traffic light, fag ends, bin, more fag ends, taxi,” His therapist got him to do these stupid lists when he was angry. Five things you can see, four things you can hear…

“Rain, cars, my feet-” The bass of the club still thudded in the distance and Billy kicked a blue bin as he passed it, anger flaring once again. What are you’re hot emotions, Billy? She always asked that. The therapist. After the incident at Cranstead Fields, the hospital prescribed Billy a course of CBT and psychotherapy. The police agreed, saying that if he attended the sessions, the community service he owed due to his attack on the butcher’s could be reduced. Not that any of it was fucking working. He talked until he was blue in the face about Lana and his parents, his rejection from the army, his rejection from work, but the nightmares still came. The car, the bomb, his body scattered across the field…

A dull headache was forming behind his eyes by the time he shut the door of the flat. Vestiges of his life before she had come along still clung to his home; unfolded piles of washing, dishes piling up by the sink, the curtains half open. But there was brightness too. Her coat was hung on the rack. The lounge was now a place to do just that, with cushions and candles and frames hung on the wall. In the fridge, leftovers of the last meal she cooked were waiting for him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and filled the kettle.

Cold showers ease the muscle tension and headaches aroused by angry outbursts.

In the bathroom, her makeup was still scattered across the sink. Billy piled it into the small vanity case she brought when she stayed at his and ran the shower. She’d still be at the gig, and Billy wondered if she’d be dancing with the stranger, or if she’d meant it when she told him to fuck off.

Cold shower having dampened his anger and his spirits, Billy padded towards the kitchen. He thought about calling Thom, but he’d only tell Lana. He thought about emailing his therapist, but it was midnight on a Saturday. There was nothing for it, and Billy did the only thing he could think of. Taking out his phone, he tapped away a quick message, I’m sorry, gone home. Will call in the morning x, and reboiled the kettle.

“I’ve already made you one.” The voice came from the lounge and, ducking his head beneath the frame, Billy saw her sat on the threadbare sofa, staring at the two steaming cups on the coffee table. “I thought we’d talked about this, Bill-”

“Don’t,” he spat, then weakly. “Don’t.”

“Do I need to call Lana?”

“I’m not a child,” he threw himself down in the gaming chair opposite her.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Silence. They stared at each other a while, both too stubborn to speak. When his leg began to bob in agitation, she sighed and leant forward.

“What happened?”

Billy didn’t speak, choosing instead to pick at the skin of his left palm. It wasn’t until her mug knocked against the table that he said anything.

“You looked so happy,” his voice was a whisper, and were she not so annoyed at him, her heart would have broken.

“Well, yeah, I was,” he could hear annoyance decorating her tender words. “But some guy making me laugh doesn’t mean I’m unhappy with you, Bill.” He didn’t look up, and she moved around the table to kneel below his gaze. “You make me happy, Billy.”

From under the sweep of his golden hair, he watched her, all gentle eyes and kindness despite the way he behaved. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m trying-”

“I know you are, and you’re doing so well.” She clutched at his hands, soothing the skin he had been rubbing. “You’ll get there.” Her hand grazed something cool. The ring she gave him for his birthday was cold against the heat of his swollen knuckles. “For God’s sake, Billy! Take it off.”

He tugged at it aggressively, huffing like a child but it didn’t budge. “I can’t.”

His petulance made her laugh and he frowned, pulling his hand from her grip.

“Don’t be so mardy,” she took back his hand and ran gentle kisses over the bruised skin. God, she was good to him. When she had delicately kissed each knuckle, she turned his hand over so his palm was facing upward. “You make me happy, Billy,” she repeated softly, before taking his ringed finger into her mouth. Billy’s breath caught at the warmth of it, they way her cheeks hollowed, the strain the action put on his trousers.

“Fuck,”

He watched, mesmerised, as she drew back. Her eyes never leaving his, she smiled, the ring held between her teeth. “Fuck,” he said again, when she took him by the hand and led him towards his bedroom.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Wash.”

Note: When to an amazing gig at the weekend, but there was one guy there who was an absolute caricature of a 50s greaser. Had to put him in. Writing is hard at the moment because of things but I’m getting back to it as it makes me happy. Joined the Hozier lyrics as fic titles band wagon.

Tagging the old Come Back To Me crew: @jessssica1234 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @aemonds-wifey @slytherincursebreaker @valerie977 @greenowlfactif @heimtathurs @yentroucnagol @schniiipsel @multiple-fandoms-girl @just-emmaaaa @tosiaf @kage-no-sonzai @targaryenrealnessdarling

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nouveauvague · 12 days

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CCXP MÉXICO

This post will be likely updated in the upcoming days but here's a few information on what to keep an eye on.

From what I gathered, this is the first time CCXP is held in México. I'm not sure wheter there will be a panel with Tom, Ewan, Steve and Eve, but if so, I think (and hope) it will be streamed via Omelete as it happened with CCXP Brazil. The official site does not provide full information on the program yet.

Official accounts CCXP México on Twitter CCXP México on Instagram CCXP México on Youtube

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nouveauvague · 23 days

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Aemond is a pervert for you

English is not my first language, be kind.

Modern!Aemond x fem!Reader

You are in a relationship with modern!Aemond

Warnings: male masturbation, smut, dubcon?

She was just laying there, next to him, sleeping soundly. Aemond knew she was sore and exhausted. His perfect girl. He knew she’s had a stressful week, but still, when he came home today, he found the table prepped with all of his favorite plates, cooked perfectly, she wore his favorite dress of hers, and she welcomed him with a big smile. There wasn’t really a reason for all of that, she said she just wanted to do something sweet for him. He felt his heart flutter, and all he did was take her face in his hands and kissed her deeply.

They ate dinner together, and just after dessert, he finally had his favorite meat, as he grabbed her by her hips and pulled her to sit on the edge of the table, as he sat back down on his chair, feisting between her legs, again and again. He made her cum four times like this, then he brought her in their bed, finally slipping his cock inside of her with a sigh of relief. He fucked her hard and fast, pushing her down the bed, praising her for being such a good girlfriend. She fell asleep right after everything. Even if her week had been stressful, she still managed to prepare this dinner just for him, and even if he reworded her enough, he still wanted more, even if he shouldn’t. He should respect her, and let her sleep peacefully, taking the rest she needed. He shouldn’t feel his cock swell just at the sight of her naked body, laying just beside him, so close to use and touch. Aemond took a deep breath, staring at her face as she laid on her side, facing him.

He caresses her face, drawing the shape of hers with his fingers, looking how sweet and innocent she looked. He passes his fingers on her lips, and she unconsciously parts them. Aemond takes a deep breath and he caresses her chin, nose, cheekbone, and her neck. His hand started drifting lower on his own accord, tracing the line of her shoulder and arm, quickly finding her soft, plump breast. His thumb brushes over her nipple, which immediately gets hard.

The sight of it just makes him grab her breast softly, feeling the weight of it in his hand as he slowly gropes it. He lets out a low grunt as his other hand drifts down to his cock, fisting it as he slowly moves his hand up and down. He looks at her beautiful face, remembering how her expression was contorted while he kept eating her out. He can still hear her pleadings as she cried out, begging him to slow down, that it was too much.

Fuck, he needed her.

He always needed her, he always needed to feel her. His hand clamps down tighter on his cock as his gaze drifts down to her thighs, her legs one over the other. He lets go of her breast, trailing his hand on her belly, down to her puffy cunt, where he slowly moves his thumb over her lips. She had so much struggle when she took him for the first time. His sweet girl wasn’t used to cocks as big as his. He smirked at the idea that whoever took her before him, wasn’t as big as him, and he couldn’t make her feel good as he could. It took time for her to accept him quickly, letting him thrust all inside immediately without keeping back in order to not hurt her. She still struggles today, but only if he doesn’t prepare her enough.

He stops and caresses her thighs. If she was so sore, he could have settled with just slipping his cock between her thighs.

No, he wouldn’t.

He would have never been able to settle, not when his heaven was just right there. How her walls squeeze him is just the best sensation he could ever feel, the way her cunts is so tight but always tries to accommodate him, keeping him inside, the way she gets wet, how hot she is.

Aemond started moving his hand even faster, he was so hard, just by looking at her. He needed her, now. His hand went back to her cunt, as he carefully slipped his hand between her thighs, caressing her clit slowly. She takes a deeper breath in her sleep, and Aemond hugs her close, letting go of his cock. He knew it was wrong, really wrong, he should have let her rest. He just couldn’t, not when his mind was so filled with her. Not when he was surrounded by her, her sweet scent, her sounds, so fresh in his mind, clouding his reason.

She moves slightly, whining as if she was uncomfortable. Aemond presses her to her chest, his hand moving away from her cunt, raising slightly her leg so he could put his cock between her thighs. He lets go of her leg, and he is immediately filled with the beautiful sensation of her body. He tries to move his hips slowly, to not wake her as he moves his cock back and forth. She mumbles softly as she fixes the position of her arms. Aemond looks down at her as he grabs one of his breasts again, clenching his fingers around it. She lets out a louder whine.

“Aemond…” She mumbles as she slowly opens her eyes, looking up at him. Aemond watches her, lost. He looks at her eyes, so big, looking at him in confusion and he just can’t take it anymore. He digs his fingers back on her thigh tightly, raising it, and he just pushes inside her, groaning. She gasps loudly, letting out a loud whine at the uncomfortable stretch, clamping her hands on his shoulders, as he keeps pushing and pushing, forcing her to just take him, as she cries out.

“Shh, just take it- fucking take it-” he groans louder, bringing one of his hand back down, drawing circles around her clit to get her wet. She cries out again as she hides her face in his chest.

“Aem-ond- ah, please…” She keeps on whining, as he finally pushes his cock completely inside, letting out a long sigh of relief as he keeps on stimulating her clit, getting her wetter, so he can finally start moving harder.

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s just me…” He tries to calm her down, as he feels her cunt clenching so much it almost made him come right on spot. She cries out again when he starts thrusting quickly, roughly, pushing his cock in and out, hard.

“I know, I know, baby- Fuck, just.. a little bit more-” He said. He already felt himself on the verge of the orgasm, her cunt was just squeezing him so much, without preparation she just couldn’t take all of this. He keeps thrusting, and soon her cries turn out in moans, as he keeps working her clit, knowing it was her most sensitive spot.

“Aem- Oh- Aemond… Too- too much… please-” She sobs but he just can’t stop. He starts moving faster, filling the room with a loud sound of skin slapping, as he feels her walls starting to clench even tighter, making him moan.

“Just cum, pretty girl- please- Just… cum,and I’ll cum too-” He breathes out. Aemond was not a person to beg, but he needed this so much he would be embarrassed of himself if it didn’t feel this good. “Let me fill you up, I need this-” He moans again as he feels her body shake and her walls spasm so beautifully that he cums, as hard as he ever did. He groans as he hugs her tightly to him, giving her a last few lazy thrusts as he takes his hand away from her clit, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“I’m sorry, baby, it’s alright now…” He whispers in her ear as she hugs him back, trying to calm down too, both of them panting hard.

“Sleep.”

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nouveauvague · 1 month

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Gold Rush

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader

Synopsis: Everybody wants you, and I don’t like a gold rush.

Warnings: Enemies to Lovers, Mutual Pinning, Jealousy ¿Simp Aemond?, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, P in V sex, Face Sitting, Not Proofread

Word Count: 7, 912 (I may have overindulged)

Beauty worth their weight in gold, and it’s the greatest blessing from the gods that you have both. The only child of Lord Lannister. Spoiled and sheltered, you had never known hardships or troubles. Pampered in the halls of Casterly Rock or anywhere you go. You leave a trail of mystification, enchantment, and adoration. Suitors line up and beg to pay you tribute. Songs and sonnets are made just to entertain and encapsulate the beauty and purity you have for centuries to come. Commoners and Lords offer their lands, riches, and allegiance just to have your hand, and now, a certain prince dared to join.

When the words slipped out of your uncle’s lips that you should join your father in his visit to the capital, the Red Keep was abuzz with curiosity. The Golden Beauty of the realm shall grace their presence. They shall finally see and admire the being that has been coveted and praised for years. Prince Aegon was excited, to say in the least. He has been curious and titillated by your said charms ever since poets decided to write nothing about the allure and trance you placed upon men by just one look of your emerald eyes. His brother found it as a hoax. He frowned at how they exalt your name and praise you as if you were The Maiden Herself when, in reality, they only read or hear of you. He would scoff to himself every time his brother would reread the songs made in your name. He would roll his eye every time he heard gossip and talk about you from the maids and knights. He was certain that this popularity and recognition had only made you egotistical and vain— a judgment made and solidified in him despite not having known or met you.

When the day of your arrival came, his older brother was the first to greet you, whilst Prince Aemond stood by the window and watched from afar. He frowned upon Aegon’s actions greatly, paying recognition to a girl whilst ignoring his wife, but alas, his brother could not be reasoned to nor be persuaded to do his duty. Aegon was always easily swayed and distracted by a pretty face, and with beauty such as yours, the queen’s first son had turned simple. Aemond rolled his eye as he stood by the balcony, watching his brother tour you through the gardens. Aegon displayed a beaming smile and an odd blush on his face as if he were the maiden and not yourself. You simply kept a small, pleasing grin on your lips as the eldest prince kept on speaking and offering you flattery and compliments, trying to ignore the feeling of a gaze following you ever since you entered the palace walls.

You set your gaze above, catching the lone lilac eye of a second silver prince. You held his gaze, which showed contempt and agitation you did not know the reason for. When Prince Aegon had noticed your attention had shifted, he cast his eyes above only to see his brother with his brooding demeanor, almost scowling at the two of you. “That is only my bitter brother, Aemond. Pay him no mind, my lady,” Prince Aegon stated and offered his arm for you to take. Your eyes shifted between the two princes, quickly curtsying towards the one who stood above and the took hold of his brother’s arm before he hurriedly escorted you out of sight of the younger prince.

You were soon introduced to the princess, the wife of the elder prince. The princess’ presence you then favored instead of her husband, who had a gown quite… touchy and clingy. You stood next to the princess, who introduced you to her adorable children, babes tugging at the hem of your gown and pleading with you with their big violet eyes to carry them. Your heart grew soft and took the little Prince Maelor into your arms, smiling widely as the babe clung to your neck and buried his adorable face into your hair. “My son has taken quite a liking to you… he is most fastidious to other’s presence, my lady,” The princess smiled. “He is simply adorable, Your Highness,” You say and brush the silver hair of the babe. “He is… he quite reminds me of my younger brother when we were children,” The princess mused, her voice afar with nostalgia.

“Have you been introduced?” The princess then asked, “To whom?” You inquired, distracted by the babe who shifted in your arms. “To—Ah, Aemond! We were just talking about you,” the princess then exclaimed, the silver prince standing by the door. You turned your gaze to the prince you had not been introduced to yet formally. “Lady Lannister, my brother, Aemond,” The princess introduced, and you curtsied since more at the one-eyed prince while having his nephew in his arms. You hindered your frown as he said no word, only simply giving a nod and the action of his lips thinning.

“I was just telling Lady Lannister how much Maelor resembles you when we were younger,” the princess smiled. You turned to the prince, who tried to give his sister a small smile but looked more like a grimace. “The young prince is quite charming,” You smiled and turned to the prince, who stood before you, stiff and brooding. Aemond clenched his jaw as his eye caught yours once more; you are not at all chaste nor demure in the presence of royalty as any young lady should ought to be. You were perfectly comfortable taking a member of the royal family into your arms as if you were equal in rank. Aemond seemed to stand uncorrected with his early judgment of you.

“She is quite handsome… I always thought the songs they made were an exaggeration, but it seems to not do her justice,” Aemond heard his mother whisper to his sister, quite entranced by your beauty, and it would seem as would everyone present at the dinner table. Princess Helaena generously invited you to their intimate family dinner. His hand clenched around his chalice of wine as his brother shamelessly leaned closer to you and whispered something in your ear to cause a sweet, amused smile to play on your lips. “Are you not bothered by this?” Aemond could not help but as his sister. “About about what, brother?” Helaena asked, clueless and concerned by the agitated state of her younger brother.

“Lady Lannister, we are most glad that you are finally here to accompany your father,” the queen said, not allowing Aemond to answer his sister’s query. “Thank you, your Majesty. You have all been so welcoming to my presence.” You smiled and could not help but let your gaze travel to the one-eyed prince, whose contempt had been nothing but plain and quite obvious. “Of course, the golden beauty of the realm is most welcome here indeed,” Aegon then chimed in. “But may I ask why it is only now that you join your father to the capitol?” The queen inquired; your gaze flew around the table, eyes expecting your answer, except for the lilac gaze of the younger prince, who stared steely and harshly at his plate. “Oh… it is because my father and uncle wishes for me to be acquainted with the court… for they are planning for me to marry soon, your Grace,” You said truthfully. That is when you feel a lone eye finally place itself upon your frame.

The queen hummed and looked not at all shocked by your admittance; her children, however, shared different expressions from what you could read. The princess simply nodded with a ghost of a smile on her lips. The prince beside you seemed surprised and, dare you say, disappointed by your purpose of coming. And the prince across from you seemed… you could not decipher his reaction through his hard gaze.

When morning came, you were pleased to receive an invitation from the princess to join her in the gardens to break your fast. You followed a squire, and you were led to a table surrounded by flowers and greenery, three children of the crown waiting for you. A pleasing princess and her brothers, one stoic, the other drunken. “Good morning, Your Highnesses,” You greeted and bowed, surprised as the young prince stood and matched your curtsy, moving to assist you to assist you to a seat across from him. You try not to over-analyze his actions; just hours before, he seemed disinterested in you— animosity was heavy around him. However, now, there seemed to be an air of civility surrounding him.

“What are your engagements today, my lady?” Princess Helaena asked as she sipped on her tea, you stirred yours and replied. “My father was planning to introduce me to some of the members of the court,” You say and turn to acquire the last piece of candied lemon. “Some suitors?” The princess asked, her brothers not at all joining in the conversation, merely sitting around the two of you as if they were dolls. “I am not quite certain, princess,” You say and let your gaze travel to Prince Aemond, who stared at the candied lemon on your plate.

“Do you have a favorite among them?” Prince Aegon then inquired; you frowned at his question. “I beg your pardon?” You asked for clarification. “Does any of your suitors hold great favor with you?” He said and took a chalice into his hand so early in the morning. “I have still yet to meet them, my prince… but I was told that Lord Arryn’s son was quite handsome, and many ladies of the court seem to favor him,” You answered but was turned to the princess, the topic seemingly more appropriate for the two of you. “Ah, yes, handsome Lord Henry,” Princess Helaena said in recognition, “It is true that he is comely. However, I heard he is one to wander,” The princess said delicately. Confusion painted your face once more, and it was the second prince who clarified,

“Lord Henry is quietly known for his depravity,” Prince Aemond said, making your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Like our brother Aegon,” he added, smirking as that earned a giggle from his sister. “I think it would best if you stay far from the son of Lord Arryn,” The princess said, and you nodded along.

You spent the day being introduced to Lords and Ladies of the Court, but more specifically, their sons. You felt the constant drone of a gaze following you as you conversed with the prospects of your hand. Their faces seemingly merged, and their names eluded you, so you could only offer them your pleasing smile and mindless small talk and keep your hand on their arm.

“Do you not have to train, brother?” Helaena then appeared beside Aemond, who was hidden behind a pillar, as he observed you being acquainted with the eligible sons of the court. Helaena held a cheeky smile as she caught his brother’s actions. You had only arrived yesterday, and the princess was already certain that you had caught the attention of her enigmatic brother. It was plain to her the attraction and curiosity Aemond harbored for the golden beauty of the realm, even long before you arrived. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would scoff when his eye would catch anyone reading a pamphlet containing the written songs in your name. Still, Helaena noted that he was the first one to acquire the said pamphlets, religiously reading them until Aegon caught wind of a lioness whose beauty was hidden in Casterly Rock. As a result, the one-eyed prince hindered himself from admitting that he and his brother were attracted to the same girl. Yes, the One-Eyed prince would roll his eye in annoyance whenever he heard gossip about you in the halls, yet he still stayed and listened to all of them.

“Should you not be joining the line of her suitors?” Helaena teased, amused by the way her brother’s nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. Helaena waited for his reply, but none came. It was a rare occurrence for Aemond to not find words. “I shall see you at supper, sister,” Aemond gritted and walked off, leaving Princess Helaena amused and with new ammunition to lovingly tease her brother.

Supper came, and to Aemond’s displeasure or satisfaction, you were there. Seated next to his sister, whispering and giggling as if you were the oldest friends when, in reality, you had only waltzed into their life just the other day. He supposed that he should find joy that his sister had finally befriended someone, but must it be you?

Must it be you who had to join them in supper and be in his constant presence? Seducing and tempting him even though you merely just sat there— making him question himself and his honor as he watched wine stain your lush lips or the way you would let out a low moan at the taste of the pie placed on your plate. You were too much of a temptation, a trial sent by the gods to test his patience and honor, in which he was seemingly failing, for all he wanted to do earlier was cut all the suitors who dared touch you and now taste the wine on your lips.

When supper had come to an end, Aemond was quick to stand and had a great wish to retire to his rooms, but his mother had different plans. “Aemond, will you escort Lady Lannister to her quarters? A young lady cannot be left alone in the halls at such an hour,” You turned your expecting gaze to the prince, watching as his jaw ticked and his tense form turned rigged. It was alarmingly clear that he had no wish to extend such generosity to you, but still, he obliged his mother and offered his leather-clad arm for you to take.

You walked out of the dining hall in exchange for the corridor. Tense, suffocating air surrounds you and the second-born prince, whose reluctance was nothing short of obvious. You tried to make polite conversation with him as he walked with you through the never-ending, dimly lit halls of the Red Keep, but his replies were only a nod and a grunt. When you reached the door of your chambers, you let go of the prince’s arm, pride wounded as you were completely ignored and could feel unaccounted animosity towards you. “Good night, Your Highness,” You drawled, growing annoyed by the moment but still had the respectability to lowly curtsy before the prince.

Aemond gulped as you curtsied before him once again, giving him a heavenly sight of your bosom that made him stiffen in his spot. He knew that your actions were a sign of respect; he should take it as a compliment that you had bowed before him lowly, but every time you did so, all you did was tempt him more. You were shameless as you fashioned a dress with such a neckline, giving every man a sight for their desires to only fester. Now he knew why every man who had encountered you had been left entranced and obsessed; you were a vixen, a true lioness.

Days passed as you stayed in the Red Keep, and you could feel the constant and growing animosity and disapproval Prince Aemond held for you. You had no idea the reason for it; you could not recall what you had done for him to grow so callous and mean towards you. You would hear his scoffs of derision whenever someone paid you a compliment, and he was within earshot to hear it. You would catch him as he would roll his unique lilac eye whenever you spoke or offered your opinion or even when you laughed. It was such a shame that such a handsome and attractive prince was so vile and rude. You were growing impatient and irritated with him. On any other occasion, your course of action will be to avoid and not put yourself in situations that would require you to be near the prince, but somehow, the gods were cruel and had twisted fate to have you in each other’s presence constantly.

When night finally came and offered respite from the bitter prince, you sighed in your chambers and tried to find a reason for his contempt towards you. It was an odd feeling you did not wish to fester; all your life, everyone you met was quick to grow fond of you. You were quick to leave them enchanted by your beauty and charms. You named it as your greatest gift— your greatest power was how well beloved you are by anyone… how you could wrap them around your pretty little fingers, which is why the prince’s dislike for you had left you entirely unnerved and bothered. You were growing scared that perhaps your charms were slipping and soon, all too, would feel the same animosity the prince harbors for you. You could not find rest that night, fear trickling into your system. The prince had unraveled your deepest fears with just his quiet distaste.

You step out of your guest chambers and threaded the halls of the Red Keep, walking the darkened halls and trying to find distraction in the library. You walked straight and paid no mind if any soul was in the library because you were certain that no one else would be present at this hour. You were mistaken.

Prince Aemond frowned to himself, thinking his mind had placed a trick upon him. The image of you haunted him even in the dead of night when he thought he could finally escape your beautiful torment. But as he heard books being retrieved from shelves and the way your scent wafted to where he sat, he grew aware that the image he saw was no apparition. You were there, with him, alone in the quiet room.

Aemond took quiet steps towards you, the moonlight bathing you in its light. Your frame aglow, making you look more ethereal as the silver light lights your golden mane. Aemond clenched his jaw as the same prominent desire for you only bloomed tenfold. “You should not be here,” He gritted, standing at arm’s length. It was concerning that he was standing at such a close proximity and you have yet to notice. It only solidified his theory that you were so enveloped in only yourself that you care not about the world around you. Aemond bit his tongue as an amused smirk threatened to escape to his lips. You jumped in your spot and turned to him wide-eyed in fear. He had never seen a lion frightened.

“My prince… I— I apologize, I did not know that the libraries are restricted at these hours,” You said and closed the book in your hand. “It is not,” comes the reply of the prince, making a frown of confusion paint your face. You turned your entire frame towards him, peering up at the prince who looked at you with nothing but resentment in his cold lilac eye. “Then why shouldn’t I be here?” You asked with a tilt of your head.“You should be in your chambers.” Aemond gritted and removed his gaze from you because looking at you illuminated by the moonlight made him feel too much. He stepped back, but you matched his actions and stepped forward. He took a step back again, and you only mimicked his steps. It was an odd scene, a dragon being toyed by a lioness.

Watching Prince Aemond’s nostrils flare and his jaw tick again made you smirk, as he was clearly annoyed by your presence. “You do not like me,” you suddenly announced, making his shielded gaze cast itself upon your eyes again. “You do not know me, yet you do not like me… why is that?” You asked and stepped forward once again, leaving just a sliver of space between you and the prince. Aemond gulped thickly as you were just a breath away from him. Your scent evading his senses, your enchanting eyes assessing his every move.

“Oh, I know you,” He spat but felt his knees weaken when you raised your brow, painting a fake confused look on your pretty face. Siren eyes mockingly turned into doe ones, and plump lips parted in fictitious shock. “You do?” You asked. “You know me? I apologize, my prince, but I do not recall our first encounter. Please, tell me how you know me,” you rolled your eyes and finally let your annoyance slip, for you had enough of the prince’s judgment. The prince and you stared each other down, him not finding words as you had your expressive, scathing gaze upon him. He did not know how to handle himself— he was always silver-tongued and quick-witted, never one to be speechless, but apparently, that changed when it came to you. When pitted against you, he felt like the quiet, dragon-less little boy he once was. His raging fire weakened and turned to mere flickers.

You scoffed and shook your head, not wavering or stepping away from the prince, ready to retire back to your room, but he took hold of your arm and pulled you even closer to him. “I know you. You’re a spoiled… vain… flirtatious little brat,” He spat, and watching your eyes widen and fill with offense brought back Aemond’s confidence, and he once again gained his silver tongue and towering, imposing demeanor. He watched as your cheeks flushed and wondered how it would feel to touch them. Would it be as hot as the fire that burned in his veins?

“My father and uncle used to always speak highly about you… about how cavalier, genteel, and dutiful the second prince of the realm was— it is disheartening to be faced with a mean, calloused boy who had shown me nothing but animosity since I’ve arrived— animosity which I do not understand the reason of!” You retaliated and pried his hold off you, Aemond trying not to grow amused as you said the words with a stomp of your foot as if you were throwing a tantrum. “You want to know the reason?” Aemond hummed as you glared at him. “Yes.” You said and crossed your arms across your chest. Aemond caught the action and reminded himself not to let his eye linger upon the deep live between your bosom. He was certain you did that on purpose. You were calculated; you did each of your actions, knowing fully well that it would elicit a reaction from those around you that would only selfishly serve you and your vanity.

He could see it in how you interacted with the lords and other men, flashing your coy smile, batting your eyelashes, and seducing them with just a mere movement from your graceful frame. He could see it in how you toyed with Aegon, letting him whisper things to your ear, leaning in closer when the older prince spoke, and laughing at whatever meaningless word came out of the prince’s wine-smelling mouth. And you did it with him as well, the way your eye would hold his gaze, seeking him out during dinner and distracting him whilst in training. You were a shameless flirt. Someone who craved attention, and everyone seemed to be grateful to give you what you sought— except Aemond.

“Because you are a flirt— a tease. You toy with men because you were gifted with beauty,” Aemond seethed and that only brought a deep furrow on your brows. “I am no such thing!” You defended yourself, and the prince only scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You are. It is plain. You have them wrapped around your fingers— you know how easily an attractive face persuades them,” the prince said but frowned as he saw your lips twitch upward. As if his words and insults were a jest. “Tell me, my prince… do you agree with their sentiments? Do you find me attractive as well?” You asked and tilted your head, smirking to yourself as the dragon’s fire stuttered and backed away once more. It was a battle, each opponent taking their hits and reloading in time just to fight with the other again.

The prince gulped and felt heat rise to the tips of his ear; luckily, the reddening flesh was covered by the curtain of his silver locks. “I— I don’t,” He said and stood his ground, forcing his voice to be steady and scathing though he told a plain lie. “I do not find you attractive,” He said more firmly and slightly more convincing this time. “You don’t?” You asked and watched as he curtly nodded and thinned his lips. “That is good,” you mused and backed away from the little space you had given him. The prince’s brow twitched as you said your sentiment, as he heard relief from your voice. “Why is that?” He curiously asked his turn to step closer to you.

“Because your mother had proposed to my father that a union between us would be well suited; well suited to whom I do not know, but that is what she had proposed. Telling my father that she had needed to bring the subject to you to see if you agreed.” It was a nice scene to see the prince’s whole body turn to stone in shock. His thin lips parted, and his eyes held cluelessness and disbelief. You took the moment of silence from the prince to speak once more. “Well, it is most fortunate that you clearly don’t agree— it would save me from having to be in the presence of such a… prejudiced and bitter prince.” You relished the way you caught his hand clenched around nothing and the way you were certain he was ready to turn violent by your words. However, you still continued to speak.

“Though the title of princess is quite tempting, and I am certain I’d look exquisite with a tiara— I’d rather run off with the stable boy and live in squalor than live in a place with you.” You finished with a satisfied smirk on your lips at the murderous look on the prince’s face. When his lips parted and tried to speak, he flailed on what to say. That only added to your triumph. “Good night, my prince, Aemond,” You said in a sickly, sweet tone and lowly curtsied again before walking your way back to your chambers.

It should greatly shame the prince. His actions would haunt him for moons to come, but the moment you exited the library, and he was once again left alone, he succumbed to his desires and undid the laces of his trousers. Pulling his painfully hardened length and pleasured himself with the thought of you. Your scent still hung in the air, and your voice still rang in his ear, but what pushed him over the edge was the image of you curtsying, almost going to your knees before him. His mind was made then. Whatever act he had portrayed the past few days will quickly come to an end for he shall certainly agree with his mother that a union between him and you would be most suited.

You sat in disbelief and utter confusion as your father announced to you that a union between you and the prince shall take place. “Why? Wh— did the queen ask his thoughts on this? Or was it just your and Her Majesty’s decision?” You questioned as you recalled the night in the library with the prince. It had only been two days since the heated and angered scene transpired, and you had done your best to avoid him and his raging lilac gaze. “The prince came to me and asked for your hand. And given the conversation I had with the queen, I assumed that his proposal has her blessing.” Your lips agape, and you try to work out your objections, but your father cupped your cheeks. “You, my darling, will be a princess just like you had always dreamed of.” He said softly, recalling how you ran the halls of Casterly Rock with a tiara atop of your head when you were younger— always begging your septa to tell you stories of princesses and their princes finding 'happily ever after.’

“I shall leave you to get ready— it will be announced to the court later today, and the wedding shall take place in a week’s time.” He announced, making you stand in utter surprise. “What?! Father— Why so soon?” You asked in disbelief. “The queen wishes his son to be married before the king meets his demise. He wishes for the king to witness Aemond joyously with his bride,” You were stunned and were certain that joy would not appear from a union between you and Aemond, making the Queen’s wishes moot. “Now, make haste as you shall be presented with your betrothed!” Your father smiled and kissed the top of your head, and hurriedly left the guest chambers.

Aemond observed as your proud gaze was planted on the floor as they announced the upcoming union between the two of you. He was certain that news had left you in quite a state of confusion. The prince passed his eye at the sea of people, mostly on the men who had lined up for years and courted you, only to witness that the beauty they coveted was then promised to the dragon prince. Aemond’s look turned to his brother, whose jealous gaze was upon him, and Aemond couldn’t help but smirk. He then returned his gaze to you again, finally having looked up and locked your eyes upon him. Nothing but confusion in your orbs, and perhaps anger that Aemond simply found endearing.

“I do not understand.” You gritted as you and Aemond were given a chance of privacy to get to know more about each other before the wedding. You two were in the room of the small council, the queen, your father, and the lord commander standing by the other side of the door lost in discussion as you and your betrothed were about to thread towards an argument. “You and I shall marry each other; what is so hard to understand?” The prince retorted. “I suppose the saying is true… the more comely the woman is, the more she is simple,” Aemond quickly added, grinning at how quickly you were to grow red in rage. Your cheeks match the scarlet of your gown.

“Why, in the name of the seven, would you agree to this?! You and I are not suited for each other!” you whispered harshly, not wanting your parents to hear you quarrel. "And what makes you think so?” The prince hummed, stepping closer to you, tightening in his trousers once more as your plump lips were agape. “I haven’t had a civil conversation with you. All our interactions have been arguments— do you truly think that a marriage between us would work?” You asked incredulously, mind spinning at how abrupt, incomprehensible, and inexplicable the fates were. “You wish for a civil conversation? Let us have one then,” he simply replied and took a seat in one of the chairs housed in the long table separating the two of you.

You took in deep breaths and studied as he sat calmly, his hands placed atop the wooden table. You eventually took the seat across from him. “Why did you agree to this union?” You asked, your mind still replaying the scene in which he stated plainly that he dislikes you greatly. “Because I am in need of a wife,” he answered. You licked your lips and shook your head. “Why me, then? When you are perfectly aware of our shared… distaste for one another,” You said and watched as the prince shrugged. “Because…” the prince trailed, licking his lips as he was certain you would not believe what he would utter because he himself would find it hard to believe as well at how he had treated you since you had come. “I want you.” He finally said after a long moment of steely silence. The prince clenched his jaw as he heard you scoff, and a sardonic, melodious laugh soon followed. “You want me?” You asked, “What? You want to punish me? Make me miserable with a union with a man who hates me?” You added. “I do not hate you,” the prince sighed and rolled his eye as you stubbornly shook your head.

“Ever since I have arrived all you had done was glare at me, pick quarrels and squabbles. You had offended me right to my face, and now you say want me?” You asked incredulously. “They say Targaryens are mad… but I had hoped your mother’s blood had leveled your and your sibling's heads.” You mumbled and did not expect to see an amused look on the prince’s face. A beat of silence surrounded the two of you, staring each other down. A lioness with a confused scowl on her face, and a dragon who had amusement and content on his. “I still do not understand,” You said, and the Prince sighed once more.

“It was all an act,” he sighed. My animosity towards you—all of it was an act. A facade to protect me because when I saw how you interacted with the other prospects for your hand… how obliging you were with them, I could not stomach the fact that you would not be mine,” he admitted, letting himself be vulnerable for the first time in years. I… I do not like sharing,” he then added.

“I was five and ten when I read the first poem written for you,” he started. “I have not seen you… I have not a clue of who you were except that you were Ser Tyland’s kin, and you were of great beauty as they have written, and you already managed to make me grow curious,” You stayed silent as the prince continued on to explain. “I waited every week for new poems to be published… the songs in your name still did not receive much recognition— you were still unheard of by the others. I was certain I was the only one who bought those pamphlets; you were a secret for me alone.” You nodded along and rested your back against the chair, observing the prince intently as he spoke. “Aegon found the pamphlets and began to grow curious too… along with the entire kingdom, and I just did not enjoy the thought that I have to share the desire to know you— to be with you with other men,” He finished, and you bit your tongue as you did not know how to take the prince’s explanation. Was it flattering or puzzling? You had no clue. All you knew was your heart was beating loudly in your chest and your stomach was filled with butterflies.

“My uncle often shared stories of you and your siblings…” You spoke, your turn to share an anecdote. “As a child, I have always been enthralled by the idea of royalty. So he would oblige me and tell me stories of the Dragon Princes.” Aemond nodded along as your eyes were cast upon the wooden table. “He would always go into great detail about your brother, Aegon… seeing he will be king, but I was always more curious about you,” You admitted. “But he said you always kept to yourself, so he could not truly tell me stories about you, so I would make him repeat the anecdotes already told time and time again. On how kind you were with your sister and how dutiful you were to your mother… how you were brave and determined— ceaselessly training with the sword even if you had lost your eye. And if you were not training, you were adding to your scholarly knowledge.” You turned your gaze to the Prince’s exceptionally beautiful lilac eye, “I have been fond of you long before I have met you, my prince. Ask my father and uncle… or anyone in Casterly Rock, for that matter,” You said truthfully, watching as Aemond’s lips twitch into a smile

“I would admit; I came here with the hopes of getting to know you… that perhaps a match between us would fall organically and not one that our father and mother made.” You said and fisted the fabric of your scarlet gown as your heart beat loudly at your admittance. The prince licked his lips, “Should it matter how this union was made?” He asked, “Either way, in the end, we’ll still get what we both want,” Aemond stated, his whole being satisfied as he was not the only one who pinned over a person he was still yet to meet. “I suppose not,” you smiled as your impending nuptials with a prince you had dreamed of since you were a child was to come. The door then swung open, revealing your father along with the Queen.“I hope the both of you had gotten the chance to grow more acquainted with each other,” The queen smiled, already excited with the prospect of your marriage and for you to be her daughter. You were most fitting to their family; not only will her son gain an incredibly charming and comely wife, but her daughter too will gain a friend.

“We have, your grace,” You said with a small smile. She gave a pleased nod, and her smile widened, “That is good. Come with me, child. Plans have to be made, and you still have yet to be fitted for your gown!” She said and held out her hand for you to take. You stood and turned briefly to your betrothed; you once again curtsied before him. Now, a smile intended for him was placed on your pink lips, and Aemond’s longing gaze followed you as you walked out of the room with his mother.

The day of your wedding was quick to come, and you felt entirely giddy and excited about marrying Prince Aemond. Your father escorted you down the aisle, the eyes of the kingdom following you as you gracefully walked to your soon-husband, who had a rare smile on his lips. When your father gave your hand for the prince to take, you felt gooseflesh scatter throughout your entire body. Aemond looked at you adoringly throughout the entirety of the ceremony, not at all paying attention to the Maester who blessed your union.

Aemond was entirely impatient for him to announce you as his wife and for him to finally be able to kiss your lips. To mark you as his in front of the gods and the entire kingdom. And when that moment finally came, the desire that burned brightly inside the both of you only grew. Aemond was not one to show affection publicly, but he could not hinder himself as he cupped your cheeks to deepen your kiss that was witnessed by all present in the hall. Their screams and cheers faded and turned mute as both of your lips intertwined.

Suppressed desires could not be contained any longer as you and Aemond had finally had a taste of each other. There was supposed to be a banquet to celebrate your union; the Queen had organized the feast to perfection, and your father spared no expense for the celebration. But it was unfortunately missed by you and your husband as Aemond quickly led you to your shared bed chambers, both of you unable to wait for nightfall to be in each other’s arms.

“Aemond,” You mewled as he pushed you up against the stone pillar in your chambers. His lips kissed your neck, leaving his mark with every kiss, and his hands quickly untied the laces of your gown. You hear him growl as you boldly move your hand to cup his hardened length against his trousers, hesitant as you move your hand. “We should be in the feast,” You said but made no move to halt your pleasurable actions. Aemond shook his head, “Do you want to attend the feast, or do you want to be pleasured, wife?” He asked and watched with dark eyes as the sleeves of your dress draped down your arm and revealed more of your milky skin. “I want you, husband.” You breathed, and Aemond let out a pleasurable sound as your hold on his length tightened.

“Kneel,” Aemond gritted, and your eyes widened at his command. “Kneel and show your devotion to your lord husband,” Aemond demanded and clenched his jaw as you did as he asked, slowly going to your knees, your eyes still locked upon him. You licked your lips as you were eye-leveled with his bulging length, “Take it out,” Aemond commanded and tightly closed his eye as you did the action, your skin finally touching his. You bit your lip at his massiveness, at how well-endowed he was and how beautiful he fully was. You swallowed thickly as you recalled the books you had read in the dead of night, detailing how man and woman should be.

Aemond let out a strained sound as you placed a ghost of a kiss upon the tip of his cock, your name spewing from his lips as you peppered light kisses along his length. “Stop being a tease, little wife,” he gritted and felt his stomach tighten at the smirk on your lips and the view of you kneeling before him. Your dress had dropped lowly, and he could see most of your bosom that had been tempting him for days on end.

You let out a breath and to him to your mouth. You half expected yourself to be repulsed, but with each moment you had his length between your lips, bobbing your head, sucking harshly, hearing the moans your husband spewed, and looking at his pleasured etched face, you felt your cunt drip with want and anticipation. Aemond groaned louder as you fondled his other parts, thanking the gods for blessing him with you as his wife. Thanking them for their favor to let him be bound to the Golden Beauty of the realm. The prince breathed in harshly as the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat, the need for release in him loudly pronouncing itself, making him abruptly pull out. He could not be so selfish and let himself succumb to pleasure whilst you were still filled with need.

Aemond pulled you to stand, fervently meeting your lips once more, and guided you to bed. Your dress finally fell, and Aemond greedily took one of your tit into the hot cavern of his mouth. He bit the bud and elicited a sweet whine from your lips, and he quickly soothed it with his tongue and felt you clung to him tighter. Taking his other hand and guided it to you other needing tit to pleasure it as well. Aemond smirked upon your bosom at how in need you were of him. Aemond moved his lips to your neglected tit, and his hand trailed down south, your eyes rolling back and your hands fisting the back of his head as you finally felt his cold hands upon your needing heat.

“So desperate for me, little wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction. Your moans echoed throughout the chambers, along with the sound of your wetness as Aemond slipped his finger in you, his thumb circling the pearl of your cunt, earning more of your sweet moans. Aemond moved to kiss your lips again, feeling how tightly your cunt clenched around his finger. You parted your lips as you felt climax nearing, your wide, lusted eyes locked in with your husbands, but before you could even succumb to ultimate pleasure, Aemond stole away his finger. “Aemond,” You whined, but your husband only smirked and pecked your lips. Making you watch as he brought his coated fingers to his lips and sucked the essence of you clean.

Your mind was dazed and frustrated as he denied you pleasure. Your eyes followed him as he removed his tunic and lay nakedly on the silk sheets of your feathered bed. “Come here,” He ordered, and you hesitated for a moment. You took your bottom lip between your lips and did as told, moving to straddle him as he lay. His hands found home on your hips, urging you to move forward, and you furrowed your brows in confusion as your core threaded farther away from his length. “Aemond, I—“ Words were lost as the prince’s lips were met with your cunt. His hands forcing you down upon his face. Your head tilted back in pleasure as you rolled your hips upon his face, his prominent nose perfectly aligned with your nubbin and his tongue darting in and out of your tightness.

“Aemond,” You cried as your thighs were quick to shiver; release was finding you once more. “Aemond… Aemond…” You uttered his name like a prayer. With one flick of his tongue, you came undone, your moans ringing loudly that you were certain that it was heard in the halls but could not find care. Aemond had a slight smirk as he moved you closer to his length. Your eyes were still glazed from your climax, and your mind was so disoriented that you did not even realize that Aemond had positioned his length at your entrance. The sharp pain of your maidenhead being taken was the only indication you had that you had now sunk upon his cock.

Aemond relished at the sight of you atop of him, your cunt taking and squeezing his cock. Your breast was heaving, and your eyes were welling with tears. Aemond reached out and took your bosom into his calloused hands, kneading the taut, soft flesh— earning a pleasured moan through your pain. Aemond gave you the liberty to move whenever you felt comfortable doing so. He was an impatient man, but he savored every small movement you made as you clenched along his cock.

Your furrowed brows dissipated, and your mouth parted as the tip of cock perfectly hit the spot inside of you that made you see stars. Aemond’s breathing labored as you rolled your hips, seeking further friction. He moved his cold hands to your hips and guided you to bounce upon his cock. “Aemond!” You cried, and Aemond could only marvel at your pleasured face and bouncing tits; you squeezed him so tightly that slight pain mixed with his delight. “Are you going to come, my wife? Will you come at your husband’s cock?” Aemond hummed and sat up, placing his head between your ample breasts, greedily inhaling your scent. “Yes… gods, yes!” You cried as he harshly thrust inside you. Both of you meet your peak, Aemond spilling his seed deep inside your cunt and you clawing at his bare back and leaving your own marks.

“My wife,” Aemond hummed in satisfaction and nuzzled his nose against yours, a smile on your lips as your foreheads pressed as the cheers from the feast that you two disregarded were lowly heard in your chambers, “My prince,” You smiled and kissed his lips, your heart full. Your being wholly satisfied as you were bound to the prince that your young heart had wanted long before.

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nouveauvague · 1 month

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A brother's duty. // Husband!Aegon ii Targaryen x Wife!Reader x Aemond Targaryen

Summary: Aegon seemed to have noticed how much his younger brother, Aemond, fancies you, as a self proclaimed caring older brother, he decides to fulfill that role by giving Aemond what he wants, which is you.

WARNINGS: afab!fem!reader, dubious consent, threesome, m/m/f, dacryphilia, rough sex, manhandling, slight humiliation, degrading, double penetration, mentions of infidelity (aegon visiting brothels), slight misogyny, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving, m. receiving), pussy drunk aemond, lactation kink, cum eating, anal sex, lmk if I missed any! + not proofread.

WC: 4.7k

A/N: the anal sex in this isn't "realistic" aka no prior preparation so please don't come at me and go ''that isn't how anal sex works 😡😡😡 you have to do blah blah blah'' ik but this is just a work of fiction so pls just enjoy it // divider credits: @cafekitsune

“Aemond, do you perhaps fancy my wife?” Aegon tilts his head to the side, questioning his brother as they sit together in the library, quietly reading, of course, until the short pale haired man decided to break the silence.

“Brother, this is no place for such discussions.” Aemond tries dodging the question, but Aegon simply rolls his eyes grunting loudly in displeasure, “Just answer the question.” Aegon says annoyed and Aemond pursues his lip, lost deep in thought.

“What if I say ‘yes’?” Aemond asks, “Then I'd have your head for that.” Aegon smiles which makes Aemond shift uncomfortably in his seat, “Come on! I was kidding, do you really think I'd kill my own blood-related brother over a woman?” Aegon laughs loudly and Aemond sighs but he furrows his brows, “She is your wife.” Aemond states sternly, but Aegon shrugs, “And you are my brother.” He replies.

Aemond lets out another heavy sigh, hoping that he'd escape this situation he'd somehow gotten into, “So?” Aegon pushes further, poking at Aemond to answer the question and Aemond hums in irritance before being fed up and answering Aegon's question. “Yes, I do fancy your wife.” He admits, slightly ashamed.

Aemond was a man of the faith, believing in the faith of the seven, and according to the scripture, desiring a woman is a carnal sin, diabolical if she's a married woman, abysmal if she's your own brother's wife.

But Aemond couldn't help it, it's as if though the gods were testing him, not only were you pleasant on the eye but you were also very polite and had the same interests as him, and most probably the only woman — besides his sister — who was not disgusted after seeing his injury.

He knew he had to stop developing an interest towards you once he found out that you were being married to Aegon, but for some inexplicable reason; that only made him want you more, perhaps it was the label of you being ‘forbidden’ that enticed him further, making him yearn to get the taste of the forbidden fruit more than ever.

How he had wished that it was him instead, the one getting married to you, he wished it was he who fucked you, he wished it was him who got you pregnant, he wished it was his babe you waddled all around the red keep with, he wished it was his child that you had given birth to.

But those were nothing more than just wishes, wishes that would never come true, unless a miracle happens.

“That wasn't hard now was it?” Aegon's voice snaps Aemond out of his train of thoughts and Aemond simply hums, “Why did you ask such a question?” Aemond inquires curiously and Aegon smirks at him, “I may not be sober most of the time but the way you stare at her doesn't go unnoticed, your desire burns deep for her doesn't it? I've especially taken note of it when she was pregnant with my child, your eye never left her womb.” He answers and Aemond rolls his eye.

The atmosphere is filled with silence once again as Aemond continues to silently read his book.

“I would've let you fuck her if you had asked me to.” that statement which left Aegon's mouth made Aemond choke on his spit as he stared at him wide eyed, shocked at what he had just said, “Pardon?” Aemond gazes at Aegon confusedly, and Aegon gets a thrill out of this, watching his brother be flustered.

“I said what I said, you could've just told me so, you're my brother Aemond, how do you think I will ever turn any of your requests down?” Aegon says it so casually, as if he was giving an item that belonged to him which Aemond had always wanted so badly, except you weren't an item or an object.

Aemond remains silent, unable to talk because of how baffled he was, but Aegon pressed on, “Don't you wanna feel her cunt around your cock?” This makes Aemond slam his book down and get up, and Aegon raises his hands in surrender, “It was merely an offer, I wouldn't mind sharing her with you, we've shared whores before.” Aegon tries justifying his reasoning and Aemond scoffs, “But she is no whore, she is your wife, you should treat her with respect.” he replies agitated.

“Enough with the sterness, reply plainly, do you want to fuck her or no? I won't ever bring it up ever again if you say no, we'll pretend we never had this conversation.” Aegon sighs before raising his eyebrow.

Aemond swallows thickly, should he take this chance? He always yearned for you so badly, it's like the opportunity presented itself; he could seize it, but he was in a dilemma, not wanting you to face such disrespect, your self respect will be obliterated to pieces, you'd be drowning in self shame.

You were a very dignified lady, a woman who carried herself confidently no matter what, this is why you weren't even affected when Aegon still visited the brothels. As long as the word didn't get out, you were fine with it. You simply did your duty as a wife and a mother. He couldn't imagine you allowing him to fuck you and ruin your honour.

“Decide fast brother, I have to leave soon, it's been a while since I laid with my wife, the maesters had told me to give her a break for a minimum of six weeks, yet eight weeks have passed, my cock craves her cunt so desperately.” Aegon speaks explicitly, and Aemond's breath hitches in his throat, imagining what your cunt would be like. “Then why do you visit the brothels if you seem to like her so much?” He questions, trying to change topics, “That's cause she can't satiate my depravities, otherwise I wouldn't even be visiting those wenches anymore.” Aegon talks as though it was a minor inconvenience.

“Either way, decide quickly.” Aegon urges and Aemond swallows.

He opens his mouths to reject it, but for some odd reasons his mind forms a explicit thought of burying his cock inside your cunt which causes his cock to stir slightly, the blood flowing to it at the mere thought of fucking you.

‘No Aemond, she is your sister in law, your brother's wife, you cannot let this desire succumb you.’

‘But didn't you want this for a long time? Imagine how her cunt would weep when you'd shove your cock into it hm? Her breasts bouncing up and down while you thrust into her.’

He swallows thickly, those internal arguments happening in the span of seconds before he has had enough and made up his mind.

“Yes, I want to fuck her.”

The babe in your arms cooed as you rocked him gently — caressing his chubby cheeks with your thumb as he slowly fell asleep due to your movements, “He's cute isn't he?” You ask the servant that was in charge of him and she nodded, smiling at you.

“Yes princess, the more he grows, the more he resembles his father, Prince Aegon.” She gives her commentary and you give her a small smile and slightly nod your head. The babe finally closes its eyes, going into slumber and you chuckle at his cuteness, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, just then, the door the nursery opens which reveals ser criston cole.

You were confused as to why the kingsguard was here himself, “Prince Aegon has sent me in search for you, he is calling you to his chambers.” Those words were enough to clarify the situation. He wanted to lay with you, “I'll be there in a minute.” you reply and he nods, you give the babe to the servant before smoothening your dress, and leaving the nursery.

You reach your martial chambers quickly, you turn around to thank Cole and dismiss him, you then open the door to the chambers and shut them just as quickly, taking a deep breath before turning around and venturing deeper into the room.

You spot Aegon sitting in his chair, but what was odd was that he was accompanied by Aemond, who you've meet occasionally and had nothing but a positive opinion on about, you were confused on what he was doing here.

Maybe Aegon did not want to lay with you? Maybe Aegon was trying to get closer to his brother for having a bond of a family? You knew how strongly bonded these brothers are, especially since after whatever happened at driftmark, so it wouldn't be weird to assume that Aegon is trying to get you and Aemond to become good friends.

“Ah, wife.” Aegon gets up from his chair, coming over to hug you, and you return it awkwardly, knowing that Aemond is in the same room, Aegon chuckles at your awkwardness. He quickly gets behind you, pushing you forward until you're right in front of Aemond who stares at you from below, all the while Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck.

You're confused not knowing what's happening, “Brother, undo her front laces.” Aegon commands and you furrow your brows immediately, baffled at how Aegon was behaving, perhaps he had drunk too much? You felt bad for Aemond, probably stuck in this unwanted situation, you try to give him an escape route but you are surprised when his warm knuckles graze against your collarbones as his fingers hook underneath your laces, beginning to pull them apart.

You were perplexed by his actions, not knowing what to do, you grip his arm from further undoing the laces but Aegon forcefully pulls your hands back, holding both of them behind you as Aemond pulls off the corset.

You were wearing a dress with no sleeves, but that did not mean you went completely shoulderless, your shift and chemise beneath you acted as the sleeve’s replacement, so when Aemond undoes the laces that were holding your long gown up, it immediately plummets to the floor, leaving you in your chemise.

Aegon nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck from behind, taking in your scent while placing small kisses on your shoulder, still not letting go of your hands, “Darling, I hope you don't mind Aemond joining us today, he had admitted to me that he fancies you, and as his older brother, it is in my responsibility that i take care of my brothers needs.” Aegon coos into your ear and you bite your lip, you are about to respond but you are interrupted by your own gasp when you feel Aemond caress your breasts, squeezing the flesh and playing with them.

“I'm afraid— I don't understand?.” You reply confusedly, staring at Aemond play with the mounds of your breasts, and Aegon chuckles into your ear pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I'm simply allowing him to wet his dick inside your cunt.” Aegon puts it plainly, making you bite your lip in shame; all the while Aemond's hand slowly travels up your thigh, underneath your chemise, before it disappears inside; reaching your core.

You squeal when you feel him pinch your clit before he stroked small circles onto it.

“W-why?” You question, trying to free your hands from Aegon's grip but he doesn't budge, but instead watches with amusement as his brother's hand brings out such reactions from you, you whimper as Aemond's finger travels down your slit and to your opening.

“It's my duty as his older brother.” Aegon replies nonchalantly, Aegon loosens his grip momentarily, changing his grip so he can hold both of your hands in one of his. His free hand lifts your chemise up, as he peeks from over your shoulder to see what his brother's hand was doing to your cunt, he chuckles mockingly when he sees your juices dripping from in between your legs.

“Look at her leaking yeah? Her cunt is literally weeping.” Aegon comments and you clench your eyes shut because of the humiliation you are feeling, your husband is parading you out like a whore for his younger brother, and Aemond— whom you've thought of so highly— is letting this happen while participating in the act.

You gasp when you feel one of Aemond's finger enter you, your walls tightly clamping around his finger which makes him grunt, “Fuck you're squeezing my fingers.” He breathlessly says. Aemond suckles on your neck, biting your sensitive spot which makes you whimper. Aegon finally lets go of your hands and then holds you by your waist before rubbing his cock against your ass.

Aemond's finger trail over the spongy spot inside of you, that makes you let out a moan and he takes note of this and presses against that area that causes you to tremble in pleasure, your hands fly up to his shoulders to balance yourself, though you knew you wouldn't fall, Aegon was holding from behind after all.

You were trapped between these two men, both of them peppering kisses on the opposite sides of your neck making you feel dizzy so you rest your head on Aegon’s shoulder, revealing more of your neck for the men to claim.

Aemond adds another finger inside you, stretching you out whilst providing you pleasure, his fingers skillfully grazing your spongy spot, constantly hitting it with precision.

You didn't even feel your peak approaching; it was ripped out of you so suddenly, you let out a loud moan of Aemond's name, clenching onto his shoulders extremely tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks at the intensity of your peak. Aegon's warm tongue glides over your face, collecting your tears on his tongue and licking at them.

You feel Aemond pull his fingers out of you, and you watch with hooded eyes as he puts them in his mouth, licking your essence up before he hums in delight, before pressing a kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself.

You are surprised when you are pulled away from him by Aegon, he lifts you up hurriedly and carries you over to the bed before harshly throwing you on it, he is quick to undress, taking off his breeches and undergarments, getting completely naked and harshly grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

His hands rip apart your chemise in a hurry, before he forcefully spreads apart your legs and positions himself in between, he gives you no warning before roughly shoving himself inside you, that make you slightly shriek in pain but eventually the pain fades, he moves in and out of you fast paced, ramming into your hole with such an intensity that it has you seeing stars.

“Are you jealous?” Aemond taunts Aegon and Aegon rolls his eyes, “No, I just couldn't hold back anymore, I've missed her cunt so much.” He replies to the taunt and Aemond chuckles, undoing his own breeches, freeing his cock from its confines. “Can I use her mouth?” He asks Aegon and Aegon grunts, “Do whatever the fuck you want with her.” he thrusts brutally into you.

You feel the space next to your head sink and you look over slightly only to be face to face with Aemond's cock, it forms a shadow over your face under the candle lights, you gasp when you see it physically throb. You've never seen that before.

He uses that slight opening as a chance, hooking his thumb in your mouth and spreading your mouth open before pushing his cock inside your mouth, you are taken aback by this and try to pull away but Aemond holds your head in place before shoving himself inside your mouth further, his tip caresses the back of your throat, which makes you gag on his cock, but that only further provides additional pleasure as he groans.

“Seven hells—” Aemond grumbles, his hand hold your hand as he thrusts into your mouth, thumb caressing the outline of his cock that forms in your throat when he pushes as the way, your eyes well up with tears and soon you're panting for air that makes you involuntarily suck on his cock, Aegon's thrusts from downwards make your body jolt upwards, taking more of Aemond's cock.

Aemond suddenly pulls out which makes you suck a sharp breath automatically, “Easy there sweetheart.” Aemond coos and you pant heavily staring at him with doe eyes, “I'll shove it once again alright? Breathe— through your nose— fuckkk.” Aemond instructs as he shoves his dick inside your mouth again, but this time you're prepared so you follow his instructions.

You hollow your cheeks which makes him grunt in satisfaction, “Good girl.” Aemond compliments you, which causes your cunt to clench around Aegon's cock, to which he responds by a chuckle, “Guess she liked that brother, she's squeezing the fuck out of me.” Aegon talks to his brother and Aemond hums in response, Aegon's thrusts speed up, that constantly hit your sweet spot, he bends forwards and takes one of your breast in your mouth, suckling on the nipple and soon– beads of white droplets begin to come out, directly into his mouth that makes him suck more harshly, enjoying the taste of your sweet milk.

“She's lactating? Fuck I wanna have a taste.” Aemond moans, noticing how the milk started to drip from the sides of Aegon's mouth.

Aegon's tip constantly caresses your spongy part, which causes something to tighten in your stomach before it eventually snaps, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and choke on Aemond's dick.

The sensation of your throat tightening around his cock makes Aemond finish as well, he shoots his load down your throat which you have no option but to swallow, and soon— Aegon is finishing inside, painting your inner walls white.

He pulls out immediately after, falling forward onto you and positioning you in such a way that he is able to suckle more, Aemond joins him soon after; shuffling and turning down to take your free breast into his mouth.

You couldn't help but whine as the two brothers suckled on each of your breasts, your recent high made you even more susceptible to sensitivity, yet you couldn't help but caress their heads gently, Aemond clamped his teeth down on to your nipple hardly which made you wince; but he later soothed the area with the wetness of his tongue. Aegon on the other hand was more careful to not graze his teeth against your sensitive buds, only using his tongue and swirling it around your swollen bud.

Aemond let's go with a wet pop, cleaning up the milk and sat up straight before tugging you, this displeased Aegon who wasn't done yet, but he had to let go, Aegon watches as Aemond settles in between your legs before he crawls down, by then Aegon had already caught on to what he was doing, and assisted him by holding you against his chest, your back pressed against him tightly, meanwhile you on the other hand; had no idea what Aemond was about to do.

“Aemond what are you— huh? Ahhh!—” You ended up squealing in surprise when you felt him place his wet tongue on your clit— you tried to shut your legs from the embarrassment but Aegon held them open— so you could only watch helplessly as Aemond gave kitten licks to your clit, which undoubtedly made you feel pleasure.

He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit before fully engulfing it in his mouth, sucking on the flesh as if he's starving, Aegon's cock is already beginning to harden again as he witnessed such a depraved act.

Aemond groaned when he felt Aegon's seed in his mouth — which he sucked out of you — but he didn't let it stop from devouring you, his tongue licked through your folds before he sucked on your clit and let go of it with a pop before repeating the motion all over again, you unknowingly pushed his face further into your cunt, which made him moan knowing how desperate you were for him, the moan caused additional vibrations which sent pleasure through your body in waves.

You rested your head on Aegon's shoulder as you watched Aemond continue his ministrations, Aegon turned your head slightly before he connected his lips with yours and you moaned into the kiss.

The familiar feeling of the tightness began to form in your stomach again and you break the kiss with Aegon and start to hump Aemond's face involuntarily; trying to just desperately reach your high.

“You're such a fucking whore do you know that? You look so desperate humping your face against his face.” Aegon coos meanly into your ear and you whine, staring at him with teary eyes and he smirks meanly, pulling your hair harshly, “Whore.” He degrades you and your bottom lips tremble as you are about to start crying, but you aren't able to when your peak hits you at the same moment, making you moan in pleasure instead.

Aegon mockingly smiles at you, “Here I thought that you were a prim and proper lady, hell— you don't even let me do these things to you, but maybe my judgement was wrong, maybe you're a whore from the silk street disguised as a lady.” He accuses you meanly, you shake your head no at his accusation while trying to calm down from your high.

Aemond doesn't say anything to that, but simply sits up, and shifts positions once again, pulling you off Aegon and onto his lap instead, you cry onto his shoulders and he simply coos at you, he caresses your hair to calm you down, “Goodness brother, you've made her cry.” Aemond sneers at Aegon who just shrugs his shoulders. “I've only stated what I've observed.” He replies and you whimper.

“All of that aside— do you think she can take us both? In one hole.” Aegon speaks before Aemond could come up with a response and you furrow your brows, and Aemond is lost deep in thought, “We'll have to test it out.” Aemond responds and you push back, immediately staring at him wide eyes but Aemond just pecks your lips.

He lays down, taking you along with him, one hand holding you against him while the other is grabbing your hips and sinking you down on his boner, you bite your lip at the delicious stretch, you're in a position where Aegon can clearly see your pussy stretching around Aemond's cock. Aegon straddles Aemond's knees and lines his cock against your entrance and you turn your head back to see what he was doing, his cock bumped with Aemond's before he found a slight opening to shove his cock into the same hole. “Ah—!” You let out a squeal from pain as you feel his tip intruding and stretching you far than you're capable of taking.

Aegon grows frustrated, not being able to enter his cock fully inside you as your walls clamp down, resisting furthermore intrudence, however that only makes Aemond's pleasure elevate as your walls squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck this, I'm taking her from the rear.” Aegon gives up pushing his cock inside you, you gasp when you feel his thumb poking and pushing inside your puckered hole on your behind. You cover your face with your hands ashamed but Aemond pulls them away before crunching upwards to kiss you on the lips.

Aegon collects your wetness that's dripping from your cunt and smears it on your slightly stretched out hole before doing the same with his cock and lining the tip with the entrance and slowly pushing it inside.

“Ahh— Aegon— wait– I don't think— hgh!” You squeal once his fully settles inside you, and you couldn't help but tremble from the burn of the stretch as he slowly started to move, tears streamed down your face when you felt Aemond move too.

You were feeling highly humiliated, how your dignity has now been sullied, though this encounter wouldn't get out; you knew you wouldn't be able to see Aemond in the same light again, you'd always think about this day whenever you'd encounter him, a dirty little secret you'll have to keep hidden from the realm.

You are pulled from your thoughts with a sharp thrust from both of them penetrating you, you couldn't stop it but moans slipped from your mouth like prayers, you gasped and choked while calling out their names, the position; the act; the pleasure and humiliation you were feeling all combined made you feel hot, and to your horror, the pain began to subside leading you to enjoy this act.

You clinged onto Aemond as the brothers both rammed into you at such a fast pace that made you see stars, you clenched your eyes shut at the new sensations they were making you feel, and soon you're moving in rhythm along with them.

“Fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum.” Aegon grunts, his thrusts eventually becoming sloppy, “Me too.” You tell him and Aemond takes that as a cue to thrust faster into you, his hips ramming against you, the sound of flesh slapping rapidly fills the room.

Once again, you're blinded by the pleasure that was ripped from you, you came with a loud moan just as simultaneously as Aegon did, he pulled out and came on your back, he couldn't help but watch in awe as his seed dripped down onto your ass cheeks.

Aemond's pace became slow and messy, indicating that he was near too, “I'm gonna cum inside you, get you pregnant alright? This time you'll carry my child, not Aegon's. I'll make sure of it.” He grunts out mindlessly, pressing you down tightly to his chest, and Aegon just snickers. “Only time will tell, Brother.” Aegon replies snarky.

And with that, Aemond finishes inside you, shooting his seed far up into your walls, and you just nod silently, processing his words, his grip loosens after he finishes you fall off him and onto the bed, and soon Aegon collapses tiredly as well.

You hoped silently, that this would be the last of it, and that you'll not have to do this again, though it was enjoyable— it was humiliating, you were not that kind of lady that indulges in such depravity, maybe you'll be able to forget this and move on as if it never happened.

You prayed to the gods desperately.

But the gods are cruel.

Such encounters became frequent, Aegon and Aemond were enjoying it too much to stop, and soon you eventually got used to the routine, yet you couldn't help but feel guilty when you'd go to the sept with Alicent, when she prays that Aemond can find a good match, when she talks about the proposals that came for Aemond to you, unbeknownst to the fact that her son was constantly fucking you and was way too obsessed with you to let go of you and marry another woman.

He'd began fuck you without Aegon being involved and when you told Aegon about it, he simply shrugged furthermore simply allowing him to do so, telling you that it was his duty as a brother to let Aemond have the things he wants, the very same excuse he used during the first time.

“So, what do you think about Floris Baratheon? Do you think she's a good match for you?” Alicents voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you stare at her, who is addressing Aemond, who seemed to be as disinterested as ever.

“She's decent.” He replies shortly before he turns his gaze to you, and you immediately avoid it, staring at Alicent instead who sighs in annoyance, soon; the feeling of stickiness between your legs—which you've tried to ignore— becomes more imminent the longer he stares at you.

And guilt overwhelms you, you didn't know why you were even joining this meeting with Alicent, you –infact– hated it, knowing that moments prior to this, you were fucking Aemond in the secret hallways of the keep.

And that his seed was currently dripping out of you.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

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nouveauvague · 1 month

Text

But Daddy, I love Him

Aemond Targaryen x Niece Reader AU

Synopsis: When the favored daughter of Daemon Targaryen falls for the favored son of Alicent Hightower, the Rogue Prince does everything he can to ensure that a union between the two of you will never happen.

Warnings: Not Proofread, ¿Softer Aemond and Daemon?, No Smut

Word Count: 5,019

It could no longer be denied nor be overlooked. It was growing painfully obvious to the court that the only daughter of Princess Rhaenyra has had her head turned by the second son of Queen Alicent. Everyone believed that the only thing the second-borns of the Princess and the Queen would share was animosity. Still, the return of Princess Rhaenyra and her kin to the capitol brought something different— something entirely unexpected. It started with stolen glances around the tilt yard and the halls of the red keep. Stolen glances lingered throughout dinner and the trial. Meeting in the library by chance turned into secret rendezvous. Banter and teases blended into meaningful conversations. Animosity turned to affection. Loathing bloomed into love. A love that cannot be.

“You look lovely, today, niece,” Aemond complimented as he caught you in the gardens. The prince relished the sweet blush that spread through your cheeks. “Shh, you might be heard,” You whispered in concern as your brothers were only seated a few leagues away. He hummed and dared to twirl your silky, curly hair into his fingers. “Shall you join me for a ride today, uncle?” You asked and took a flower into your delicate hands. You turned to the silver prince, who had a small, rare smile as he peered down at you. You boldly placed the plucked flower into the upper pocket of his tunic. “If you wish,” He answered, making you bite your lip as he stepped closer. “To the dragon pits then?” You asked, and Aemond offered his arm for you to take, and you gladly did.

Prince Daemon stood above the gardens and watched the scene with a sneer. He had been stewing in rage, fear, and uncertainty for the past few weeks. You could no longer be reasoned with. In his eyes, you could never do no wrong. You had never done anything wrong— his favorite daughter was perfect. But apparently, your return to the capitol had caused you to make a lapse in judgment. Trusting a Hightower spawn was a great mistake on your part. You, his smart and sweet daughter, have been corrupted and manipulated by the one-eyed bastard of a son of the bitch that had the title queen. It pained the Rogue prince, but he had to take extreme measures to ensure that you would never be bound and be played by a Hightower spawn.

You rode the skies next to your uncle. A wide smile on your lips and laughs, leaving your tongue as he playfully chased you through the clouds. His Vhagar may be the largest dragon there is, but she is also the oldest. Whilst your dragon had the quickness and agility of youth. “You’ll have to try harder than that, uncle!” You yelled in glee as you heard his frustrated groan when he lost you through a cloud. “I will catch you, little niece— and you shall give me my prize when I do,” He answered back, and you laughed in glee as your dragon rode through a cloud, making your stomach flip. “That is if you shall succeed!” You yelled before urging your dragon to fly faster and further from the prince.

The afternoon sun started to fade, bathing the two of you in the orange hue of the setting sun, and it was then that Aemond finally caught up to you. When you landed by the pits, you were quickly grabbed by the waist. Entrapped in the arms of an uncle you used to loathe. “I demand my prize, little niece,” He murmured by your ear. You feel your heart stutter, and at the same time, you feel conscious as the two of you may be caught. “I demand my kiss, princess,” he said, and you feel your breathing shallowed by his words and the sound of footsteps approaching. You two were luckily hidden behind the body of your beloved dragon. “Tonight, meet me in the library and you shall have my kiss, my prince,” You said and reluctantly urged him to let go of his hold of you.

When the two of you turned to the reason for the footsteps, your brows furrowed as you were both met with a gold cloak. “Can we help you, Ser?” you asked as Aemond cautiously assessed the trusted man of your father; stepping in front of you as if the knight would harm you. “Princess, I was sent by your father to escort you back into the keep.” He bowed and answered, but that did not aid your confusion. “It’s fine; I shall ride back to the keep with my uncle,” You answered, but the knight insisted that he had a direct order from the Rogue Prince that you shall return to the Red Keep under his supervision. “Just go; I shall ride behind you,” Aemond finally spoke after a moment, guiding you to the wheelhouse and glaring at the knight who interrupted the supposed private moment between the two of you.

When inside the castle walls, you were greeted by your father and eldest brother as you disembarked the wheelhouse. “I see you have met Ser Adam,” Your father remarked at the knight who helped you step out of the carriage. “He shall be your sworn protector,” Prince Daemon added, his gaze turning to a prince who greatly reminded him of himself during his youth riding, following closely behind you. “Sworn protector? I— I do not believe there is a need fo—“ Your father cut you off, taking your arm and stirring you further from the one-eyed prince who dared to step closer to you after he had disembarked his horse. “You are the only daughter of the heir to the throne— of course, you need protecting. Ser Adam shall be constantly by your side, and he shall report back to me and your mother for any potential threat that arises.” You looked back, confused, locking eyes with Aemond, who had his jaw clenched as he conversed with your brother.

“So I take it that my sister and brothers have their own sworn protectors as well?” You asked, feeling that you were singled out by your father’s sudden paranoia about your safety. “They too shall have one… in time,” He mumbled the last part, making your head snap up at him. “But in the meantime, Ser Adam shall oversee your ventures and activities. No more venturing out in the halls in the dead of the night alone. He shall be there by your side if any danger arises while you are in the dim walls of the library,” Your lips part as you realize that the knight was placed as a buffer, a wall between you and Aemond. You bit your tongue and made no further comment about the matter for now.

When dinner came, you were excited because it meant that you would be in the presence of Aemond once more, enveloped in quiet conversation with the prince who sat by your left. But a frown adorned your pretty face once more as your seat beside Aemond was removed and instead placed cramped between Aegon and your elder brother. You hear Aemond’s familiar footsteps approaching; you turn to him as your brother guides you to your new place. Aemond knew exactly what they were doing. His jaw tightened as they had been keeping you from him. He knew he should have been cautious with his affection when out in public, knowing it would not be received well. But how could he restrain himself? How could he control himself when you are near?

Throughout dinner, the two of you were silent, missing, and already longing to be by each other’s side once again. The prince’s face was filled with annoyance, his lips in a thin line. You held a look of solemnity, and a pout adorned your plush pink lips. Daemon turned to Jacaerys, the two of them satisfied with their tactics in keeping you and Aemond out of each other’s company.

After dinner, you hear your newly assigned knight trail behind you as you walk the path toward the library. You sighed as you heard the clank of his armor. “You can stay by the door, Ser Adam,” You say as you approach the silent room, Aemond already waiting for you in your favorite spot. “I am afraid that I cannot abide by your orders, princess,” He said, and you bit your tongue; you could not let out your frustrations upon him as he was only ordered by your father. You took your seat across from Aemond; the prince eyed the knight who stood behind your chair.

“What is he doing here?” Aemond asked in ancient tongue, annoyance seeping through his tone. “My father has instructed him to follow me wherever I go… instructed him to report back all of my ventures,” You answered and played with the embroidery of your fine dress as your pals for the night with Aemond were now ruined. “They are keeping you from me,” Aemond gritted, his hand clenching in anger. “And why should they do that?” You asked with a tilt of your head, moving to take hold of his hand, but the knight behind you cleared his throat as if a warning. You sighed and licked your lips and clamped your hands in front of you. “Because they are scared— threatened that…” Aemond caught himself before he uttered the deep truth he had realized just a week after you had returned. “That what?” You asked in common tongue. Aemond sighed and shook his head, but there was a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “That I would burn for you, little light. That we are dragons that need to be bound by blood.”

You, being the watchful eyes of your sworn protector, did not last long. Aemond had commissioned some of the guards to pick a fight with your knight, and it left him bloody, bruised, and bedridden. Buying the two of you a small amount of freedom in each other’s presence before your father could find a replacement.

The two of you were in the godswood, hidden behind the white, ashy trunk of the Weirwood tree, away from anyone’s view. Aemond laid his head on your lap as you read a book written in the language of your house, him listening intently to your honey voice as it read fluent Valyrian. “You still have not given me my prize,” The prince suddenly said as you paused from reading. You turned to him, gazing down at the serenity on his handsome face as he lay on your lap. One of your hands intertwined with his and resting atop his chest. “What?” You asked, feeling your stomach flip at the intensity in his eye. “You still have not given me my kiss,” Aemond said, voice growing deeper and more serious.

You tried to laugh it off, moving your intertwined hands to your lips and kissing the back of his hand. “There,” you say, but Aemond sat up from his position. “That is not the kiss we discussed, princess,” He whispered, face inching forward to yours. You feel his cold hand on the apex of your neck and shoulder, pulling you in and sending gooseflesh to rise all over your skin. “Just one kiss,” You whispered as his lips were so close to yours, his scent of cedar wood, mint, and leather so intoxicating. “We’ll see,” he said and smashed your lips. Your heart stuttered for a moment, feeling his warm, soft, wine-tasting lips upon yours. It was supposed to be only a chaste kiss, you knew you should pull away, but as Aemond placed his hand on your waist and pulled you close, you knew you did not have the strength nor want to do so.

Unbeknownst to you, your secret actions with your uncle were caught by your eldest brother, who did not hesitate to run to your mother’s husband to report the scene. On how yours and Aemond’s lips danced, on how you grinned at each other as you acted to catch your breath, gazing at each other love-struck. On how your kiss under the scarlet leaves of the ancient tree had only solidified your emotions and deepened your desires for each other.

You were soon called to your mother’s chambers later that afternoon. “No, please! Please, you cannot do this to me— why… why would you marry me to him?” You cried to your mother as they announced that you were to be sent to the North as a bride for its warden. It was the extreme measure your father had to take to keep you away from Aemond. Sequestering you into the frigid wasteland just so a one-eyed dragon would not lay more of its claim on you. “You had promised me I was free to choose whom I shall marry!” You cried in front of them, knowing your tears had always been your trusted weapon to bend them to your will. “I’m sorry, my love… but, the crown needs allies… a union with Lord Stark is vital.” You shook your head, “The North is already sworn to you! You need not promise me to their lord,” You countered. “It was a decision your father believed had to be made, and it is to—“

Your mother’s words faded out, and you could only focus on how it was your father’s orders to offer you to a lord you had not even met. His cruel way of keeping you from Aemond. “My father is dead,” You suddenly gritted out, silencing your mother in shock as you said the bitter words. Though you were a product of Ser Harwin Strong, and the kingdom was made to believe that your paternity came from the line of Ser Laenor— neither of those men were fathers to you. Not like Daemon was. It stung you to say such words, but you were overly hurt that he had made such a decision just to keep you from the prince you loved.

“My father is dead; how could he have made such a decision?” You asked and dug your fingernails into your palms. Your mother sighed as you and Daemon stared each other down. “Daemon made the decision,” She clarified. “You are heir to the throne, but you would let a prince consort dictate the future of your only daughter?” You asked, menacingly. Watching the way your step-father’s jaw ticks at your impertinence. He did not know how to handle you in such a state; you were never one to rebel, but what was there to rebel against when everything you had ever wanted was quickly given to you?

“That is beside the point, my love; you still need to marry.” Your mother said, and you shifted your gaze to her. “I know! And I am happy to do so just as long as—“ Daemon cut you off. “Just as long as what?” He asked, “Just as long as it will be Aemond.” You proclaimed. “I wish to marry him, and he wishes to marry me as well! You are the only one against this!” You all but screamed with a stomp of your foot. Making your father roll his eyes and disapprovingly shake his head as they had filed you up with their lies. “You see, Nyra… look at how they had manipulated our daughter… they filled up her head with falsities— this had been their plan all along.” Daemon reasoned to your other, who looked in between the two of you with concern and cluelessness on how to proceed.

“Look at how they corrupted her… arguing, yelling, insulting us just to defend their disfigured son. They are playing her!” he spat bitterly. “Do not call him that,” you gritted to Daemon as he uttered offense toward Aemond. There was a silence that enveloped the room before you finally spoke once more. “Father, please… I love him,” you pleaded, ready to beg on your knees just for you not to be sent as a bride for a wolf. Daemon looked at your eyes, sincerity in your orbs, gut-wrenching sadness as pearl tears ran through your cheeks; that still did not sway his mind. “The decision is made. You shall be Cregan Stark’s bride.” He stated and walked off, leaving you to cry and wail in your mother’s arms.

Aemond eyed you with concern as you sat dejectedly in your place next to your brother and his. Your head hung low, and not once had you cast your enchanting eyes upon him— or anyone else for that matter. His hold on his knife is tighter as he realizes you have not a bite of your supper. His gaze went murderous as he finally saw your bloodshot eyes and trembling lips. They had made you cry. He turned to your father, a harsh look on his face, whilst your mother looked at you wistfully. Aemond then turned to Jacaerys, a smug look on his plain face.

As supper ended, Aemond was the first to leave the table. He made fast steps and entered your chambers to hide there, needing to speak with you, and he was certain that would not be possible whilst you were in the presence of your kin. He hid behind the pillar as he heard the door creek and your somber voice bidding Lucerys ‘good night.’ When he heard the door shut and bared, he made his presence announced.

It was then that he saw a clear view of your state: eyes swollen and red, lips trembling, nose sniffling, soft cheeks flush with sadness. “My light… what has happened?” he asked. You said no word, only ran to his arms and let you hold him as the tears came like rivers once more. “They’re… they’re marrying me to Cregan Stark,” You said in between sobs. Aemond felt the air knocked out of him, his form turn rigged and was immediately filled with dread. “What?” He asked, hoping what he heard was a misunderstanding. “They offered me as a bride to Cregan Stark. He shall arrive in a few days to be presented to grandfather, and we shall leave for the North in a fortnight.”

Aemond sat you down on your plush bed, wiping away your hot tears with his cold fingers. “You will never be his,” he swore, looking deeply into your eyes as your tears did not cease. I shall speak with your parents,” he said and tried to soothe you by running his hand through your hair and caressing your cheek. “Aemond, they wouldn’t even listen to me… their minds are made,” You said sadly. Your prince only shook his head and kissed the top of your brow. “You are a dragon. Wolves do not deserve dragons,” was all he said before kissing your lips again, hoping the action would distract you from your sadness because he could no longer stomach seeing you cry.

“They would never approve of us,” You whispered to Aemond as he held you to his chest. He tried to lull you to sleep, but your mind was distraught. “I do not care for their approval,” he uttered atop your head, inhaling deeply the scent of you. “But—“ You hear Aemond sigh and pull you closer to his leather-clad chest. “You will be mine, my light, just as it ought to be. Forget their qualms and objections— my uncle and his disapproval is a challenge I’ll happily welcome, just as long as you will forever be mine.” He stated as his fingers twirled your hair, “Let us just rest, ñuha ōños,” he murmured, and you did as told. Savoring the first and probably the last time in his hold.

“What are you planning?” Ser Criston asked as Aemond spent more hours in the tiltyard. The arrival of his betrothed had only spurred him to fight harder, train more, and let out his rage at the knights. “Pick your weapon,” was all the prince said as he wiped away the sweat off his forehead. “Tell me the reason for your more frequent sessions first,” the knight stated. Lilac eye flickered above the tiltyard, Aemond's jaw clenching and nostrils flared as he saw you walking around with the warden of the north, chaperoned by your brother. Ser Criston’s eyes followed the prince’s gaze, realization shining through his brown orbs. “My prince, you—“ He was cut off.

“I shall be challenging the warden to a duel for the hand of my niece,” he proclaimed and urged the knight to pick up his weapon. “But she is a bastard,” Ser Criston muttered lowly. Aemond's eye widened, and he had to greatly retrain himself from maiming the knight who stood as his father figure. “She will be my wife.” He proclaimed and returned to his training.

When all were gathered in the throne room to announce their betrothal to Lord Stark, Aemond stepped away from his sibling and drew out his sword, bravely challenging the warden in front of the eyes of the court and his father, the king. You felt your stomach pit in fear, for you did not know that this was the plan Aemond had devised. You had half the mind that he would have the two of you escape to YiTi and live freely there. You hear your father and brother’s disapproval of the duel, but you hear your grandfather’s agreement to it. Lord Stark had little choice but to accept the challenge. You turn to your mother, her lips in a thin line and hands fiddling with her rings, her expression unreadable as he watched men argue before the throne, dictating her only daughter’s fate. She felt your eyes upon her, and she took your hand into hers as fear was evident in your gaze. “It will be fine, my love,” She muttered lowly, but you had trouble believing her words.

When night came, the supposed family supper was discarded as both sides were furious and confused at what had transpired in the throne room. “She will not marry him— I would rather feed myself to Caraxes than watch our daughter marry a spawn of those cunts.” Daemon muttered to his wife and downed a whole chalice of wine, quickly moving to refill it once more. “She loves him,” was all your mother could mutter as she plainly saw the affection in your eyes. “And he loves her,” she added as he saw the tenderness and warmth in her half-brother’s usually cold, lone eye. Daemon scoffed and turned to his wife.

“Not you too— Rhaenyra, you cannot buy into their deceit! You cannot let your daughter be bound to that—“ The princess cut her husband off. “Why? Why are you so against this? Put your pride and animosity towards Otto and Alicent aside… our daughter has made it clear that she wants Aemond— and he, too, made it clear that he wants our daughter. There is no underlying deceit from his intentions… what will they even gain? The crown passes to Jacaerys; Aemond wants our daughter, not for power or whatever reason you had sold yourself to greatly disagree to this match!” Daemon shook his head at his wife’s words. “We need allies. We need the North.” He said, but Rhaenyra shook her head. “You are preparing for a war that may not come— already sacrificing our daughter on the way! And she is right. The North is already sworn to me. A Stark never forgets their oath. And if they need further convincing, my daughter and her happiness is too great a price to pay for them to keep their word.” Your mother defended. She watched as her husband’s jaw clenched and his hold on the chalice grew tighter.

“Daemon, you and I had both been subjected to marriages, not of our choosing, a marriage devised for peace and power but ultimately led to death and devastation… you cannot be so cruel to subject her to such a fate.” Rhaenyra said softly and walked towards her husband, urging him to change his mind. The prince breathed out heavily, “We shall see in the duel if he truly deserves her,”

You nervously traced the embroidery of your dress as you watched your prince battle with the Warden of the North. Both men still yet to tire as they galloped towards each other with their jousting sticks. You feel your mother reach for your hand as your leg bounces up and down in anticipation and fear. You took in a sharp breath as the Warden was thrown off his horse, and Aemond was quick to disembark his and draw out his sword. You chewed on your lip as you shielded your gaze from the men, your bloodstream filled with fear as you heard the clang of swords and their exhausted grunts. You hear the cheers of the audience grow louder, and you feel bile rising to your throat. You shut your eyes tightly and prayed to the gods and fates for it to end soon— for it to end and for Aemond to emerge victorious.

Your prayers were quick to be answered as you snapped your eyes open at the enraged screams of your brother and father— the prince having the warden on his knees and a sword upon his throat. “Surrender, my lord,” The prince breathed, his eye scanning upwards, in search of you. “Surrender, and you will keep your life!” The prince yelled, and you fisted your dress with each moment the warden did not concede. But when he finally raised his arms up and dropped his sword, lowly saying his surrender, you were finally able to breathe freely. “Our champion, Prince Aemond Targaryen!” Someone yelled, and cheers hollered around you, but they were quick to fade as your eyes locked with the man you can now call your soon-to-be husband.

The wedding was quick to come, no matter the reluctance of your father and older brother. You were marrying Aemond. Other members of your kin were finally accepting the union, seeing how you both were truly enthralled and in love with one another. They no longer held disapproval as they realized how bright and intense you burned for each other.

You were in your chambers, the final preparations made to you as you were about to be bound to the one-eyed prince in the eyes of men and the gods. “You look… you look exquisite, my sweet,” Your mother sighed and cupped your cheeks, her eyes and voice filled with heavy emotion. You tightly embraced your mother as she was the only one who was truly on your side when it came to your union with Aemond. Your heart throbbed melancholically as you were to be married without the support or blessing of the man who had become your father. You walked out of the chambers with your mother by your side, her being the only one to escort you towards the grand doors that would lead you to the great hall where Aemond waited by the end of it. She gave you one last kiss on your cheek before stepping aside and walking towards a side entrance and waiting along with the other guests; absent was the presence of Daemon.

As the banquet went on and your hand was freely clasped around your husband, you tried not to let your sadness be shown as the man who stepped in, as your father was not anywhere in sight. Aemond could feel your sadness no matter how hard you tried to hide it; he brought the back of your hand to his cool lips and hoped it brought you comfort. You flashed him a small smile and leaned in closer, “A dance, my wife?” He asked, his heart stuttering as a genuine smile spread to your lips.

He led you to the floor and placed his hand on your waist. No more secret touches, no more possibility of scandal, for in the eyes of the gods and men, you were Aemond’s, and Aemond was yours. As your husband spun you around and kept his steady hold upon you, your mind was finally distracted by the sadness it felt as Daemon was absent on your most joyous day. The thought of your father did not occur to you as you danced until you and your husband saw him approaching. Aemond was attentive to your reaction as he approached, ready to challenge his uncle for the distress and sadness he bestowed upon you. “I wish to dance with my daughter,” He announced, and you felt Aemond’s hold on your waist tighten; he was about to speak, but you nodded and reassured him it was fine. Aemond reluctantly stepped away, and you were left in the presence of your father.

There was silence at first as you were once again spun for the dance, but you soon broke it. “You did not attend our ceremonies.” You said, voice a tad bitter and resenting. You hear your father’s aggravated sigh. “I know you think he is playing me… I know you believe this whole ordeal is a farce, but it’s not. He loves me, father. And I love him greatly,” You say and urge him to understand. “You— your marriage is something I do not approve of.” You hear him utter, making your stomach pit, “But it is clear that you truly love him…” he trailed, his eye turning to your husband, who had his watchful gaze upon you, ready to come to your aid, the moment he sensed distress. “… And I suppose his intentions are genuine,” he relents. You turn your now hopeful gaze upon him, “I do not believe he deserves you, but if he truly makes you happy, who am I to stand in your way? I will not hinder you anymore.” You processed her father’s words. “Do you truly mean it?” You asked, voice thick with emotion, “I do,” he sighed and kissed the top of your head. You smiled widely as heaviness in your heart faded with the blessing of your father was finally bestowed upon you and your husband.

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nouveauvague · 2 months

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It's Who We Have | Part Seven

Summary: A cruel twist of fate has brought them together, and it might be enough to push them apart | Word Count: 5.6k~ | Warnings: mentions of terrorism, that episode of trigger point 🫣

A/N: guys we finally made it. The scene that made me start this series 😘 enjoy!

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Despite knowing Billy had endured a rough night on the sofa, the morning revealed the aftermath in his dishevelled hair, longer stubble, and tired countenance, as if he battled a tempest in his sleep.

Surprisingly, slipping into his bed felt oddly natural, shedding only her jeans and bra before nestling beneath the sheets, enveloped by the familiar scent that wrapped around her like a tender embrace. Despite the temptation to invite him to share the bed, she resisted, though her heart tugged against her rational mind.

The tension between them simmered beneath the surface, palpable in the silences punctuated by sporadic conversation and the noisy sips of tea. The oppressive heat of the day seemed to sap the air from her lungs, despite every window cracked open in Billy's flat. And yet, each time she stole a glance at him—clad in nothing more than worn joggers and a shirt clinging to his chest with sweat—her mouth inexplicably grew drier, amplifying the unspoken desires lingering between them since childhood, heightened by the previous night's fleeting kiss.

After freshening up a reasonable amount, she gathered the things she’d bought with her, ensuring it was alright if her car was left in its spot while Billy offered to drive her to Farringdon Tube Station. It felt like they were making up for the awkward flirting and silences from when they were teenagers, and she cursed herself for how easy it was for him to make her cheeks warm without seemingly doing much at all.

She sighed as they left the street-level door, the heavy weight of humidity dragging her down to the earth with every stifled step. Billy’s car wasn’t fancy, as she’d found out the night he’d driven her home from the pub with Abi and Libby strewn across the back seat and the way the weight of them made his car scrape against every speed bump on the way home. They smiled at one another awkwardly over the roof of the battered Vauxhall as Billy unlocked his door and both slid inside, groaning once again at the air inside the car somehow even worse.

“Why don’t you put the air-con on?” she asked, sliding into the passenger seat, plopping her bag between her feet.

Billy scoffed with a boyish smile, the key needing two turns before the engine fired into life, “fucking air con. They just blow hot air at you.”

God, it was nice to see him smile.

Nothing was said about the night before. She figured he might need a moment to collect his thoughts, as Billy often did.

He was a thinker. Quiet. Always had been. And though age has wisened him somewhat to this behaviour, some things never changed.

She didn’t mind. All she had was time. And if needed she’d wait for him to broach the subject whenever he was ready for it.

It only took twenty minutes for him to pull up to a slow stop beside the tube station. It was busier than usual, but being a Saturday, it was rife with people and groups of all types, and not only that, but she furrowed her brows at the group of people gathered in the middle of the road, with signs held high, and angry expressions.

“Bloody hell, what’s all this about?”

Billy sighed, his thumb rubbing his his forehead in annoyance, “fucking protest.”

She hummed and gathered her bag from the footwell, apparently seeing Billy was in no mood to delve into the confusion mix that was his emotions.

But her hand barely brushed the door handle.

“Wait..” he practically breathed without effort, fiddling with the gear stick as if he needed something to do with his hands “Can we…at least try and talk about last night?”

She couldn’t really read his expression. And she felt her heart beating so hard in her chest she was sure he could sense it. A sort of dread pooling there at the thought he hadn’t meant any of it, and that he was too drunk at the time to speak clearly.

She still felt his hand on her stomach, fingers barely stealing beneath the waistband of her jeans.

Billy wet his lips, his sandy blonde hair falling into his face. Her heart raced with uncertainty, hoping that her not moving an inch and her hand falling from the car door was enough of a reply.

“I just…I need to know if last night meant anything to you.”

Her breath caught, emotions swirling in her gut like a hurricane. A barrage of feelings made her feel nauseous, remembering how she had slept, with his scent permeating her senses, unable to sleep with the tingling to her lips and the inescapable idea that there was no going back.

If she had known that Billy had done somewhat the same. Laid on the sofa, arm thrown over his eyes, confused and pent up in equal measure, unable to relax at the idea that the woman he’d kissed, and bared all for, was asleep in his bed.

“Of course it did,” she replied softly, her eyes fluttering with vulnerability, “but…did it mean anything to you?”

He swallowed hard, his gaze falling to the floor before meeting hers again, as if her question directed back at him had taken him off guard, “Yeah,” he confessed. “It meant everything.”

A wave of relief soared through her so much she felt weightless, coupled with a sense of longing she was now unable to suppress.

“Then what now?” she asked, her voice laced with uncertainty and yet hope.

He sighed through his nose, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, in a gesture that made her heart squeeze, “I don’t know,” he admitted, his thumb lingering to graze her cheek, “But…can we figure it out together?”

With a hard swallow of her own, she nodded sincerely, and feeling a surge of courage, she leaned in closer, her heart pounding as she leaned in to close the distance between them. With a gentle touch, she pressed her lips to his, a silent affirmation of their unspoken connection. But the only affirmation Billy needed.

Billy’s breath caught in his throat, his hand still lingering on her cheek as he returned the kiss, his lips meeting and moulding to hers with a tender urgency. In that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melted away, leaving only the warmth and promise of what lay ahead, whether it was a difficult path to pave or not.

The angry beep of the horn from a car behind them made them break apart with a stifled and awkward giggle, cheeks all warm, but a silent understanding lingering. He let out a low chuckle, “I’ve always wanted to do this with you.”

She smiled warmly back at him, her heart fluttering with newfound excitement mingled with a touch of nervousness. "Me too," she confessed softly, her voice barely above a whisper as she reached for the door handle. “Still promise?”

For a moment, he looked lost, until he remembered what he would do to break himself from the hatred and judgement of the people he was currently involved with. And he nodded, “promise.”

Her fingers pulled the clunky door handle.

“Hang on, Lana’s ringing. She’s been calling me all bloody morning.”

She looked back and waited, watching as Billy put Lana on speakerphone, already seemingly annoyed with the conversation before it had even started.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Lana sounded ragged on the other end, as if she were walking quickly, “where are you? Sound like you’re in the car?”

“Yeah was driving to meet my mates, why?”

“What mates? Anyone I know?”

She furrowed her brows. When was Lana ever protective of Billy? It wasn’t like her at all. Usually she’d want as little as possible to do with whatever Billy busied himself doing. Although she couldn’t deny, perhaps his big sister was just as afraid for what he’d got involved in as she had been.

“Just mates, Lana. Why what’s going off?”

“Listen, Billy, I just needed to call you. You’ve not been answering my calls. You’ve not been about-wh-where are you driving to?”

Billy nearly stalled the car, lurching it forward slightly and bumping one of the protestors, and all at once they were surrounding them, with angered faces and patting at the car windows.

“Billy. Billy.”

He sighed, flashing two fingers to a protester on his side, “Farringdon Tube Station.”

“Listen, Billy, it’s important, what are you doing at Farringdon Station?”

His fingers gripped the steering wheel, flashing a confusion expression to her across the centre console at how worried Lana sounded, and how his sister was doing a piss poor job of hiding it in her voice, “I was meant to meet the lads but they’re not here. Outside the tube he said, but I can’t see them. Just a load of lefty wankers.”

“Billy, why did you drive, was that your idea?”

“Nah, my mates asked me to give some of the lads a lift down. Must be some kind of joke.”

She did have a glance around, surmising that these ‘friends’ should have been here by now.

Why was dread pooling in her stomach?

Something felt wrong. Like it was pulling her to the spot she was sat.

“Yeah they’ve set me up, haven’t they? Havin’ a laugh, aren’t they? Knobheads.”

There was that little pang of sadness again. The familiar sound of Billy being let down.

“Billy, these new mates of yours, they’re not who you think they are.”

He rubbed his nose, scrunching it as if his sister could see, “Lana, what you on about?”

“Nick. Nick Roberts, he’s a…he’s a terrorist. One of the Crusaders that killed Nut.”

That dread began to mutate into fear then.

Her fingers started to shake.

“You’re winding me up, aren’t you.”

“Do I sound like I’m fucking winding you up?! Have any of them been near your car? Look around, is there anything different about it?”

“Got a mate fixing up my car.” he’d said just the day before.

She felt as if she might vomit.

“Eh?”

“For fucks sake, Billy! Listen to me! I need you to check the car for me, okay? Have a look under the steering wheel or under the footwell, anything you can see that might be unusual.”

Fear invaded Billy’s voice then, and it made her feel no better about her own, “right…yeah…”

She watched her friend. Her friend? No. The man she loved clawed about his car with shaking hands, dropping various bits onto the floor. A sponge fell from the dashboard, revealing the old, used lipstick tube that Becky must have owned. Packs of ibuprofen. Scrunched up receipts.

Every bit of Billy's daily life crumbling apart in search of danger that lingered inside.

And all she could do was watch on in horror, unmoving.

Her trembling feet shifted across as if she were cowering, when Billy lifted the foot mat and he himself, froze with parted lips.

“Lana there’s some masking tape underneath the foot mat.”

Lana's reaction over the phone mirrored hers, and she heard a hard breath crackle on the other line.

“Alright, okay, can you…really carefully lift up the masking tape?”

An acrid fear bubbled at the back of her throat.

“There’s…there’s a wire, Lana.”

A pause.

Come on Lana.

“Can you see where it’s leading to?”

The way Billy held the wire between his fingers so lightly made her want to shut her eyes right and never open them again. It lead to an opening between the glovebox and the door, such a tiny hole that nobody would have noticed unless they looked closely.

“The…the glove box…”

Their eyes met briefly. His stuttering voice made her want to weep and even more so the look of wide-eyed horror in his gaze.

Come on, Billy.

She swallowed dryly, as his fingers tugged the glovebox open with a haunting click.

Silence enveloped her, suffocating in its intensity.

Her gaze fixated on the ominous device nestled amidst the tape and wires, its menacing presence choking Billy's car in a miasma of dread. Each heartbeat echoed louder than his fading voice, each second stretching into an eternity as she grappled with fear's paralysing grip.

Her fingers, entwined around the car handle, hovered in limbo, caught between fleeing into uncertainty or surrendering to the looming threat. A call from Lana had shattered the fragile peace, leaving her teetering on the precipice of terror.

With a quivering exhale, she released her grasp, her hands trembling with a raw, primal energy. The world outside, once vibrant with life, now seemed tinged with an ominous shadow. Farringdon Tube station teemed with unsuspecting souls, oblivious to the danger lurking beneath the surface.

Dread clawed at her insides, a nauseating churn of realisation settling in her gut like vomit. These people, innocent and carefree, were now unwitting pawns in a deadly game. Families frolicked, children laughed, teenagers revelled in their youth—all oblivious to the impending peril.

A chill swept over her, a cold sweat tracing the length of her spine, pushing her seat back as far as it would go to distance herself from the danger staring back at her. Billy's panicked voice crept back into her ears, a stark reminder of the impending catastrophe that loomed ever closer.

“Fucking. Hell. Shit, shit, shit, it’s hooked up to summat…looks like a bomb” “I’ve got to get out the car, if it explodes I’m done for man, I’m gonna die-”

“No! Billy! Do not get out the car! Do not get out the car. You just need to stay calm and listen to me, alright?”

She reached out with urgency as Billy made the move, calmly pulling him back with a softened gaze, “Billy, hey, look at me. It’s alright, I’m here…”

Lana's urgent tone cut through the tension like a knife, her concern palpable even through the crackling phone connection. "Billy, who's in the car with you?" she asked suddenly, her voice sharp with urgency.

Billy was still trying to catch his breath, so she replied, “it’s me…Billy was giving me a lift to the station, I-I didn’t know-”

“Shit…”, her heart raced as Lana's voice crackled through the phone once more. "Listen to me, both of you," Lana said firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I need you to stay calm and listen carefully. Keep the line open and put it on speakerphone so I can hear everything."

"Okay... okay..." she whispered to herself, her voice a mere murmur of reassurance amidst the chaos. With a gentle touch, she rubbed Billy's shoulder, offering him what comfort she could, prioritising his well-being over her own rising fear.

He swallowed his breath, attempting to keep it in his chest as he looked over at her with glassy, blue eyes, realising he had not only put himself in danger, but both of them. She saw the guilt and dread fall in his gaze.

"Right, we're gonna go to Cranstead Fields, Billy, you know it, yeah?" Lana's voice echoed through the car, her words a lifeline in the darkness of their situation.

“Yeah…I know it,” his voice was resigned, his fingers finding the steering wheel with anxiety.

“I’ll meet you there, it’s gonna be okay.”

But despite Lana's constant encouragement, she could sense the distrust emanating from Billy with each passing moment. Doubt clouded his features, scepticism shadowing his every move. He didn't believe her.

He didn't believe her.

What almost scared her more was Billy’s erratic driving, taking corners too quick and being generally careless. His crumbling belief he’d make it out of this alive swallowed by dread.

“You’ve got to tell Mum and Dad I’m sorry, yeah?”

“Billy, tell them yourself, you’re gonna be fine!”

She pressed her legs together as if trying to curl herself into a ball of safety, hands braced on the seat, trying to calm the heavy beating of her heart.

Her eyes screwed shut at the exchange between Billy and Lana, whispering so quietly to herself for him to calm down and drive carefully.

Her eyes flew open and Billy leaned over though as something within the glovebox beeped. A light illuminated several numbers on the screen, showing all 0s, before settling and counting down with a harrowing beep from 08:00.

“Shit…”

“What’s happened?”

“There’s a timer, Lana…it’s a fucking timer.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Sanity slipped with every second. And she's ashamed to admit she jumped when Billy punched the steering wheel.

“Shit! Shit! Fuck!”

“Listen, Billy, I'm gonna help you, but you need to focus, okay? You just need to concentrate on getting to the park. When you get there, drive straight onto the field, you'll be fine. I promise.”

She exhaled shakily, wanting desperately to believe Lana on the other end, but gripping the passenger seat so hard her fingernails were digging into the material, and Billy's reddened and panicked face made it all the more difficult.

And as if it couldn't get worse.

“Fucking hell, my battery's gonna die,” Billy uttered in a tremor, watching as his phone went black screen just as Lana was about to say something.

Billy breathed through his nose loudly, chest moving with laboured breaths, he whispered, “come on, please, say something, talk to me, please.”

He begged like a mantra.

And though she couldn't trust her voice to sound at all comforting, she tried anyway, “we’ll be fine…Lana knows what she's doing, okay…she'll know what to do…”

Billy must have heard the sheer terror in her voice, and as he glanced aside, the way the tears were just starting to glitter her cheeks, he reached over and squeezed the skin above her knee in an attempt to make her feel safe and grounded.

Her hand simply joined his, interweaving their fingers momentarily. Gripping to him like he was the last thing on earth she could feel.

She shifted in her seat as Billy took the corner into Cranstead Fields, tyres screeching as he drove out onto the green, parting a friendly football game as he beeped for them to move out the way. She spotted one single police car as he passed it and felt her heart clench.

Even when they came to a stop, she caught sight of them running angrily towards her in the side mirror and immediately used both hands and all her strength to pull the door towards herself.

“Get away from that car!”

The lads surrounded them, sweaty hands pawing at the windows with annoyed grunts. Billy quickly pushed his lock down, and she closed her eyes as one particular lad stopped at her window and attempted to pry the door open. It felt as if she were breathing so loudly that blood was coating her tongue.

Only when they ran off did a man in uniform stop at Billy's window, a man she didn't recognise but he must have.

“Billy, Billy look at me, it's Hass. Stay still, okay? We're gonna work around you.”

Fuck. He spoke as if he had no clue what to do.

Lana's car grew in the distance, and she breathed partly in relief as Hass moved away towards her.

“Hass, I'm fucking losing it-” Billy started.

She shifted aside and reached out to hold his arms, “Billy…Billy, look at me,” she had to hold his face for him to finally hear her, “just you and me…it's alright…”

He shook his head, “I-I'm so fucking sorry, I-”

“Stop. Just breathe, okay…it's just you and me…”

She was almost shocked by her own words. Inside, she felt as if she were already dying and gasping for air. Only finding oxygen when Billy's eyes softened only slightly and he nodded, leaning his tacky cheek into her hand.

She blinked when Lana's dishevelled head popped around Billy's window.

Lana forced a smile, “I'm here. It's me. It's gonna be fine. Just stay really still, I'm gonna have a look around the car. Don’t touch anything, I’m just gonna check the car okay?”

Lana side-stepped wearily around it, and something changed in her gaze when she did, as if slipping right into work-mode before their very eyes. Her hand was still resting on Billy’s shaking forearm, while he leaned over her side with a mortifying sense of curiosity and foreboding, checking the numbers tick down on the display.

Lana didn’t say a word as she zoned in on the passenger window.

“How bad is it?” Billy asked, as if in desperate need of some good news.

If there was one thing about Lana she knew, it was that she was fucking horrendous at lying, “it’s fine.”

“I can tell when you’re lying, man, how bad is it?!”

If it were any other situation, she would have laughed at them both. And the brief glimpse into what would have been their normal sibling banter did make the battering of her heart slow somewhat.

She could tell by the rising intensity of Billy's voice and the way he couldn’t relax that he was slowly losing it without the comforting words of his sister. And it did nothing for her nerves either when she watched Lana disappear to the police car in the distance and she noticed with a shrill freeze of her heart, a sniper aimed towards the car, in case either of them made a move to escape.

For Billy’s sake, she didn’t say a thing. And she felt more and more powerless the more Billy’s eyes watered, face reddenned in primal fear, “Lana, fucking get me out the car!”

His sister’s expression was stern, constantly fighting a battle between having to be professional and calm for work and yet comforting and loving as a sister to her little brother who gripped the steering wheel tight, and stared at her, wanting nothing more than to open the dreaded door into false freedom.

“Listen to me! Look at me! The timer means nothing. They’ve put it there as a trick so you open the door! Can you hear me! Don’t touch it! Stay still! Listen to me, I’m your sister.”

Billy had long checked out of reason. He just began to plead ceaselessly. Lana’s constant reassurance that she was his sister didn’t seem to mean a whole lot to him at this moment.

“Just trust me”, Lana begged wearily.

She shook her head. He doesn’t.

Even with those words, she saw the way Billy pleased ‘please, please’ as a means of self-soothing, unable to help himself from glancing over at the dreaded glovebox. She felt his control fading quickly.

Beeeeeeeeeep.

Both of them froze, watching the timer disappear off the screen.

“Lana?” Billy called pitifully.

Vomit rolled in her gut when after a few moments, the timer beeped once more back to life, tauntingly counting down from 30.

“Lana, do something!”

She’s too far away, she can’t hear us. She thought.

Billy’s palm smashed against the steering wheel in both grief and desperation, “Lana!”

“Billy, look at me,” she pleaded quietly at first.

Time slowed into a slow drag as Billy’s body turned his body, fiddling with shaky fingers to the lock at the corner of the window. Both dread and panic rolled in her, glancing at the sniper primed to discharge, and felt the hasty need to save Billy from himself, as she had done before.

“Suspect is unlocking door. I repeat, sus-”

“Billy!”

Had it been different, she would have apologised for the way her nails dug into his flesh as she wrenched him away. And at first, it scared her how much he flailed and fought to escape her, until she took his cheeks in her palms and forced him to look at her.

“For fucks sake, Billy, look at me!”

His blue eyes were wide and glassy, red rimmed with tears, rosy lips parted to suck oxygen into his lungs, hands wrapped around her forearms so, so tightly. The beep of the timer only seemed to taunt them, with the reminder of how little time they had left.

And she thought with some ache in her chest, that if these were indeed her last few seconds, she would be fine with that, looking into Billy Washington’s desperate eyes as they flitted over her face. She hadn’t realised that the tears had quickly made their way down her own, emotions and panic pushing the control from her.

Time was slipping away, their fate hanging by a thread, and she could feel it unravelling beneath her fingertips.

She shook her head, eyes fluttering, “u-um…think of a nice memory, come on-”

He tightened his grip, blinking a few times, “O-okay…y-your first day of school.”

Despite everything, a smile threatened to break across her face.

“Okay…okay…” she nodded, “do you remember how you were there for me then?”

He nods, “yeah, I do-”

“Now let me be here for you…okay?”

All Billy could do was nod to her, and she took the brief opportunity his eyes were closed to steal a glance at the sniper, now relaxed, seeing through his viewfinder that there was no longer immediate danger. The man she remembered was named Hass was trying his best to hold Lana back, waiting for the inevitable.

For either the timer to go off, and the car would be filled with flame and heat. Or nothing.

She sniffled, “you remember? I was covered in mud…I still remember you blushing going into the girl’s toilets.”

He sobbed loudly, shaking, head bowed against her chest, his whole body covered in perspiration with stress.

“Mum fucking bollocked me for that you know,” she adds with a watery laugh.

He rested his head against her chest, seeking comfort in the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath his cheek. His hands encircled her waist, holding onto her as if she were his lifeline, and she reciprocated, clutching him tightly, her fingers tangling in his damp, tousled hair.

“It’s always been us, right? It always will be,” he whispered, his voice quivering with emotion.

“Always,” she affirmed softly, her own voice trembling with unshed tears.

“You're everything,” he confessed, his words choked with emotion, the impending threat of their demise hanging heavily in the air.

Their embrace tightened, the outside world fading into oblivion as they held onto each other, finding solace in the precious moments they had left together.

The timer continued its relentless countdown, each passing second felt like an eternity. She held her breath, waiting for the inevitable explosion. The tension in the car was palpable, suffocating them both as they braced themselves for the worst.

But as the timer reached zero, there was only silence. No deafening blast, no fiery explosion. Just the sound of their ragged breaths filling the air, mingling with the faint hum of the engine.

Confusion washed over them, disbelief etched into their expressions as they exchanged bewildered glances. Had they miscalculated? Was this some twisted twist of fate?

The bomb hadn't gone off.

They were still alive.

She turned to Billy, her heart pounding in her chest, and found him gazing at her with a mixture of disbelief and relief mirrored in his eyes.

Without a word, he leaned in, his lips pressing urgently against hers in a desperate kiss. It was a frantic, desperate attempt to grasp onto life, to affirm their existence in the face of imminent death. Every touch, every caress, was a silent plea for more time, a fervent prayer that they had not cheated death in vain.

The lingering danger remained, tucked into the glovebox as they broke free from the kiss, trying to paw back control between themselves.

For a brief moment, Billy thought, what if she hadn’t been here?

He jumped when EXPO began to surround the car, but didn't break free from her. They stayed like that for long, long moments, not wanting to part from this delicate balance.

She couldn't really even pay attention to what they were saying. It was all meaningless jargon to both of them. All they knew was that they took were clinging to the hope that two people would not die today, it wouldn't be them.

Lana murmured to Hass, “extract Billy first through the rear window, he's the most unstable-”

“No! Get her out first!” Billy protested.

“Billy, calm down, we'll get you both out, okay?” Lana replied calmly, her tone trying to diffuse the situation. Her hand gripped Billy's tighter as he argued.

“Fuck no-”

“Billy,” she whispered, tracing his knuckles with her thumb, “it's okay, I'll be right behind you, okay?”

She thought, she wasn't doing a very good job getting the shake out of her voice. But she implored him all the same to just do what she asked of him. He would be safe…

The EXPO team managed to pry the rear window without shattering the glass, and as it thunked to the floor, cooling air pooled in, making the sweat sticking to her clothes feel chilly.

“Alright, Billy, very slowly, put your seat back as far as it will go-that’s it-so it's nice and flat-” Hass instructed calmly, and she watched him with bated breath, “now slowly, if you can, climb over towards us…”

Billy licked his lips, pulling every strength he thought he had deep inside. His legs felt heavy. Body wracked with stress. And every step he took, he felt as if he was on the precipice of passing out.

Hass and a uniformed officer were the ones who pulled him free. And as soon as she saw Billy disappear out the rear window to safety, she felt that sinking feeling of loneliness once again settle in her chest.

She could even hear Billy's protest, fighting against the police officers trying to push him towards the ambulance, “I'm not going anywhere until she's out- get her out!”

She swallowed thickly and blinked quickly, trying to steady the quivering of her hands in mid air. Her eyes kept being pulled to the tightly wrapped package in the glovebox in front of her. Voices fading into nothingness.

Hass knocked on her window, and she jumped in her spot.

“Okay now, I need you to really slowly, like Billy just did, tilt your seat back.”

She nodded but it was merely out of sheer instinct. The words were scrambled.

Her legs felt like jelly as she slowly pushed the seat back, her airways feeling constricted from the force of her tears. Turning her body she gripped the headrest and rested her knees on the seat, trying her hardest to breathe deeply.

“Come on, it's alright, you're totally safe,” Hass soothed from the view out the rear window. Billy was not far behind, beside Lana, watching with a face of worry and bloomed by the harsh sun.

One leg stretched forwards, with arms on each headrest, seeing freedom, her movements were too quick, and her foot slipped between the seat and the gearstick. She tugged a few times, frustration and panic only exacerbating her grief at the last hour.

“Come on, you're doing so well, baby,” Billy's soft, airy voice was closer. She saw his face with blurry vision out the rear window, his figure bathed in warmth and light.

His hand outstretched. But she couldn't reach it. She was frozen in limbo between the swallowing darkness of the bomb behind her, and the open and safe closeness of her dear friend, and the man she loved.

Years of adorning that mask of self reliance, of building the walls high around her heart seemed to melt off of her. And when she saw Billy's face looking at her through the rear windscreen, she thought that she simply wanted to be the little girl in the green coat, even if it was just for one last time.

She nearly sobbed when Billy crawled back into the car, blatantly ignoring the protests behind him, she felt his hands around her waist and ribs, to pull her gently free.

Her arms hugged him frantically, the fresh grass and the familiar Billy scent enveloped around her. His form swamped her, his breath kissing at her neck where his head was buried in her shoulder as he lowered them to the ground.

Over his shoulder, through the clarity after her tears, she glanced at the spot where so many times Billy had done just this.

Comforted her. Kissed her. Loved her.

“You're everything to me,” he whispered lovingly. Her eyes fluttered shut at his words, a soft whimper muffled by his shoulder as she buried herself in him.

“Billy…”

Not even the urgent commands from first responders could tear them apart, their grip on each other only growing tighter as they were ushered away from the car.

And when the controlled explosion echoed through Cranstead Fields, sending shockwaves through the air and coating the grass in a blanket of blackened debris, they remained steadfast in their bond, their love burning brighter than the flames that engulfed Billy's car.

Even as the flashing lights illuminated the darkness, and the blaring sirens pierced the silence, they held onto each other, their hearts beating as one against the chaos that threatened to tear them apart.

Billy's eyes scanned the chaos, desperately seeking her familiar face amidst the flurry of activity. But she was already being ushered away, swallowed by the darkness of another ambulance, her figure growing smaller with each passing second.

With Lana's comically small stature pushing Billy gently, he saw through the sea of heads and mischief, her eyes, bright and glimmering with tears as he had always known her.

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @valleyof-goldenlilies

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nouveauvague · 2 months

Text

Object of Desire (Epilogue)

[ dark • Aemond x Arryn • widow female ]

[ warnings: sex content, breastfeeding kink, smut, angst, domination, swearing, mention of postpartum depression ]

[ description: After a difficult childbirth and finding out what kind of man her late husband was, Aemond finally finds the strength to truly understand his wife. Their life becomes peaceful and successful until Aegon is seriously injured in battle and he is proclaimed Prince Regent. The female character has a specific eye and hair color. ]

Part 1 − Object of Desire Part 2 − Object of Despair Part 3 − Object of Delight

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

For as long as he could remember, the image of himself with Aegon the Conqueror's crown placed on his head had flashed through his mind. He had never thought of depriving his elder brother of the throne, but they both knew that he was better suited to the role.

However, now, as his king lay in his chamber, with burns that caused him so much pain that they made it impossible for him to move, let alone rule the kingdom, when he was proclaimed Prince Regent, the weight of the steel pressing down on his forehead and temples seemed to overwhelm him.

His wife stood beside him, seated on the Iron Throne, her gown as usual in the colours of her lineage, blue, she was showing her allegiance to him by wearing on her neck and fingers the sapphire jewels, necklaces and rings he had given her.

He knew that she did not desire rich, shiny gifts, and his presents were not intended to satisfy her vanity. Never able to express his feelings and thoughts aloud, he preferred to show his respect and affection towards her in this way, and she accepted it with calmness and gratitude.

She paid tribute to him as the last person to stand in front of his throne, she bowed and wanted to kneel, but he stopped her with a gesture of his hand, ordering her to stand up.

He did not stop her when she approached him, when her hand grasped his, when she lifted it to her lips and kissed it reverently, closing her eyes.

He swallowed loudly, stroking her smooth skin with his thumb, feeling like just grabbing her around the waist and placing her on his lap, the way he would if they were alone in his chamber.

She moved away from him, looking at him with peace, a certainty, a pride that made him feel a warm contentment, something in her violet eyes that always reassured him.

She was his ally.

Not his grandfather's, his mother's, or his brother's.

His.

The mother of his heir.

His wife.

After the ceremony, a council was gathered, led by him, to determine what to do about the situation in Harrenhal, besieged for some time by Daemon. He did not allow his wife to leave the chamber, pointing with his hand to the seat on his right hand that would normally be occupied by his mother. His sire accepted this with humility, allowing his wife to take the seat next to him, herself sitting down next to Ser Criston.

Silence fell.

"How long do we have to tolerate Daemon flying around the kingdom threatening to take the crown from my brother? He laughs in our faces, occupying a stronghold so close to Eyrie." He said coolly, his voice deep and defiant, certain. He heard his wife draw in a deep breath upon hearing the name of her ancestral fortress, lowering her gaze to her fingers.

His grandfather grunted loudly, twisting in his seat with a quiet creak of wood, looking at the faces of those gathered with a raised eyebrow.

"In my opinion, Prince Daemon wants to provoke you, Your Grace. It is obvious that his target is King's Landing. In my opinion, Harrenhal is a small price to pay to keep the capital, let him hold this fortress if he so desires."

"Harrenhal is the bridge between the North and the South. Daemon will burn Lord Arryn's army if he chooses to come to our call." He replied impatiently, Criston Cole grunted loudly, eager to make his point.

"There is only one king. Prince Daemon must be reminded of that." He said coldly, looking at him intensely, ready to rally their entire army at one sign of his. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his wife, who was looking at him with a gaze he knew well.

As always, she was letting him decide if he wanted to hear what she had to say.

He nodded at her, allowing her to speak.

"You are the rider of the greatest dragon in the kingdom, my king. You must remain in King's Landing. The Red Keep, unlike Eyrie, can be conquered. Prince Daemon is just waiting for this. I'm certain that when he hears that you are heading in his direction with his army he will join his wife and they will march here together. Blockade of my uncle's army will still be a lesser loss." She said calmly, looking at her hands, his grandfather nodded, his face expressing surprise and some kind of admiration.

"Your wife speaks with great wisdom, Your Grace, and I agree with her completely." He said, and he looked away, hitting the side of his cheek with the tip of his tongue, thinking intensely about what she had said.

What if he does indeed move on Harrenhal, and finds only an empty fortress with children, old men and women?

What if Daemon humiliates him, tricks him like a little child hoping he'll swallow his bait, and attacks the Red Keep along with his half-sister knowing he won't make it back in time?

"Forgive me, my lady, however, idleness is the domain of women, not men." Criston Cole hissed, but fell silent, swallowing hard, his lips pressed together as he met his warning gaze.

"You mistake idleness for wisdom and caution, my Lord. Like many men before you." His wife replied, and he clenched his fingers on the base of his nose and closed his eyes, sighing impatiently.

"Enough." He ordered, a tense silence fell around him, his wife looked away, he could see the vein pulsing fast on her slender, long neck, her cheeks red, betraying her annoyance.

"Mother." He turned to her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, as he always did, reckoning with her opinion. He saw her swallow hard, picking at the cuticles around her fingernails in a nervous gesture, her big brown eyes filled with fear, uncertainty and dread.

"I think it's a trap, Aemond. Daemon is clever, he lives to mock others. He's always been this way."

He sighed quietly, feeling that despite his deep desire to lead his army to victory, there was much right in the doubts of his wife, grandfather and mother, when his anger and desire to prove himself began to give way to common sense he recognised that indeed if he left the Red Keep, his half-sister would take the opportunity.

"Let our spies continue to watch him and report his doings to us. We should think about luring him out of there somehow. Is there any news from the Iron Islands?" He asked, Lord Lannister nodded and grunted loudly.

"Yes. They agree to a set sum. They will stand against the Velaryon fleet at our call. However, they demand that their independence from the crown be upheld." He said quickly, nervously, adding the last sentence as if on the fly, clearly afraid of his reaction. He sighed heavily and merely nodded.

Their discussion continued for a few more hours, touching on the army, its supplies and the state of the soldiers' morale, their attitudes, whether an agreement could be reached with Lord Baratheon to remain neutral in exchange for the seat on the Small Council that his grandfather had offered in place of his own, knowing that it was his decision that had caused the betrothal to his daughters to be broken off.

When he had heard all he wished he closed the council by dismissing everyone but his wife.

She looked at him with her characteristic composure, watching as he removed Aegon the Conqueror's crown from his head and placed it with reverence on the top of the stone table in front of him. He gazed at its steel surface thoughtfully, tapping the tip of his finger against it, each time causing it to make a quiet clink.

"All my life I have thought about this moment. But it's not how I imagined it." He said finally, his voice impassive and tired. He heard her sigh quietly with understanding, looking down at his hands.

"I know."

They were silent for a moment, hearing only the sounds coming from outside the windows, the loud conversations of guards and servants shouting in the courtyard.

"They'll think I'm a craven." He hissed through clenched teeth, feeling uncertainty and frustration rising in his chest, he sensed that she looked at him, her hand tightening on his, as if she wanted to give him the courage to do the right thing.

"He knows this is what you fear most. He'll laugh and mock that you're afraid to face him, but we both know he'll do it because he hopes it will break you. Don't let him dictate to you the terms of when and where you will face each other. It's humiliating." She said with a certainty from which he felt a squeeze in his throat and closed his eyes for a moment, his thumb running over her soft skin.

"I'm expecting your child."

He shuddered, looking at her with his lips parted in disbelief, his heart began to pound hard at the thought that just a month after she'd given birth to his son, despite their shared promises, he'd come deep inside her when he'd made love to her, unable to stop himself, her hands clenched tightly on his bare buttocks, her sweet moans begging for his seed.

How could he deny her?

"Forgive me." He whispered in a trembling voice, thinking of the nightmare she'd endured, of how long she'd been unable to recover from it, how close she'd come to leaving this world. He heard her hum under her breath and smiled softly, shaking her head.

"No. It is a good omen. A sign from the gods that they favour you." She replied, looking at him as if she was the one who wanted to comfort him, his fingers intertwined with hers. "I think this time will be different. I already know what to expect and that I can count on your support, my king."

He nodded, lifting her hand to his lips, placing a loud, lingering kiss on her smooth skin.

"They have taken pity on me, sending me you as my wife. My queen." He muttered, drawing her close to him, gripping her waist, seating her comfortably on his lap, leaning against the back of his chair with a quiet sigh, gazing at her familiar, pleasant figure with tenderness.

She smiled warmly at his words, taking his face in her hands, stroking it with her thumbs. He closed his eyes, letting his body loosen, feeling sleepy and tired even though his manhood clearly expressed its pleasure at her closeness, swelling in his breeches.

"I will order a meal to be prepared for you and brought to your chamber. You have hardly eaten or slept for days."

"Mmm." He hummed, satisfied, as always, that she was watching him, that she knew what he needed without asking him unnecessary questions.

While this would surely have caused his frustration with another woman, her initiative didn't bother him; on the contrary, it made his daily life a lot easier, giving him the feeling that he didn't have to think of everything himself.

She was the one who decided what attire he should wear for what occasion, what they would eat for their morning meal, knowing what he liked most. To his satisfaction, she also found herself in the role of mother, establishing a close bond with their son, Jace's attachment to her and how joyfully he reacted to the sight of her made her eager to hold him in her embrace, letting him watch her feed him in the evenings.

His greatest weakness, as he found out, proved to be not the lack of his eye or control over his fiery temper, but the taste of her milk melting across his palate as his son slept peacefully at night with his belly filled with her food.

He clamped his mouth over her swollen, puffy nipples, sucking on them greedily as his fat cock thrust impatiently into her slick interior, teasing with its tip the spot inside her that made her moan shamelessly with pleasure.

"− my king −" She sobbed sweetly with her thighs spread wide, letting him pound into her with deep, fast pushes, purring with pleasure into the skin of her breasts, swallowing loudly her wonderful nectar. His sound vibrated through her entire body making her walls clench against him greedily, squeezing him, his thumb teasing and trailing around her pearl, making her fingers dig helplessly into his naked, sweaty back.

"− this is a meal worthy of the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, don't you think? − my wife's sweet, warm milk −" He murmured, running the tip of his nose over her nipple only to move his face to her other breast, repeating the same process, justifying his behaviour by the fact that he knew the excess milk was causing her pain and discomfort, and he couldn't imagine it going to waste.

"− yes − it's all yours − f-fuck −" She muttered, tilting her head back, her nails digging into the skin of his shoulders with his low groan as he felt her core begin to pulse around his manhood in orgasm, squeezing his seed out of him.

He didn't have the strength to resist and just filled her with himself, sighing in relief, licking her nipple with the tip of his tongue, as oversensitive as the rest of her body, she whimpered, trying to push him away but he wouldn't let her, busy with sucking her milk until she calmed down.

"− Aemond, please − oh gods −" She mumbled softly, completely absorbed in her fulfilment, panting heavily. He remained deep inside her, leaning on his elbow, not wanting to crush her with his body, remembering in the back of his mind about the baby in her womb.

"− what is it? − my wife is overwhelmed? − impossible −" He sneered with a grin of satisfaction, since it appeared that his attention to her breasts aroused not only him, she was soaking wet for him, her fulfilment approaching quickly and violently, making her body completely vulnerable and limp, as if she herself was shocked by how intense the sensation was.

"− I didn't even notice when you filled me again, my king − I'm inclined to think you're drawing satisfaction from my pleasure −" She cooed with a sweet smile, from which he chuckled under his breath, leaning towards her, her hand pulled him closer and their lips joined in a hot, sticky, soft kiss, her swollen breasts pressed against his chest.

He ran the tip of his nose over hers, looking into her eyes, a violet he adored, the shade of her irises slightly darker than his, warmer, shimmering wonderfully in the moonlight illuminating their bed.

He wanted to confess to her the many things that did not slip through his throat, the affection that filled his heart with heat, yet he remained silent, looking at her with a gaze she knew well. She always reacted the same way, her soft hand stroking his jaw as only two words came out of her mouth, spoken in a whisper.

"I know."

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nouveauvague · 2 months

Text

You Want This, You Need This

The only daughter of Rhaneyra Targaryen is firmly devoted to her mother's cause, and yet she finds her way through the passages of the Holdfast, to the bedchamber of a Prince she should hate // Main Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen x nameless female character (daughter of Rhaenyra)

Warnings: 18+, smut, enemies with benefits, hate sex, degrading, angst, Targcest (uncle and niece)

Words: 3.7k

A/n: Me making a poll then doing whatever I want 🫶

There’s no use in waiting for sleep to come to her, she’s too restless for sleep.

Her bedroom is full of alcoves and adjacent chambers, good for hiding and keeping the room cool during the summers. In one of the alcoves is a mural. If she presses a particular space on the wall with much force, she can push it to reveal an entrance into the hidden passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast.

Light is lost beyond the threshold. A gentle but piercing breeze washes over her, through the thin and billowing fabric of her night shift. There’s always this lingering excitement when she opens the doorway. She equates it to the thrill of flying, cutting through the wind on dragonback. Only she’s not in the sky, she’s staring into darkness, daring herself to take a single step.

As children she and her brothers had found many of these hidden doors throughout the castle, the perfect sort of places to hide in when they were in trouble, the perfect place to eavesdrop and move through the keep undetected. When their mother found out she had discouraged them from venturing too far, lest they end up like the piles of bones left by rats and other rodents that had never found their way out.

The paths within the walls are treacherous, but she knows some of the routes by heart. She knows how to head down to the kitchens, she even knows a way which leads past the dungeons, to a chamber which houses the skull of Blaerion, the Black Dread, out to a beach along the shore of the bay, out of reach by any other means.

There is one particular room she has in mind tonight.

She treads carefully, tracing her fingertips against the wall so that she does not lose her way. When she comes to a series of steps she takes even more caution. She counts twenty steps, then turns another corner and keeps walking until the stone underneath her fingers turns to wood. It is a door, one which appears as part of a panelled wall on the other side. She pushes it open, hoping he has left the latch undone, and he has.

The room’s warmth is a welcome sensation. She makes as little noise as possible as she enters and closes the door behind her.

He’s sitting by the fire, turned away from where she stands, head lowered slightly and his silver hair spilling down the back of his chair. She almost always finds him like this, practising one of his self righteous rituals. He reads until the hearth and the candles have burned out because it enforces his own belief that he is a more dedicated son than Aegon, more intelligent and more worthy than the Velaryons– than her and her ilk.

His shoulders stiffen as the soles of her slippers tap delicately against the floor, moving towards his bed. She imagines him frowning, or perhaps smiling to himself as he closes the book in his lap.

She perches at the edge of the mattress, pushing her shoes off and letting them fall to the floor. “That was quite the display in the training yard this morning,” she says in a clear voice.

Everything he does is agonisingly slow. He grips the arms of his chair as he rises, slots the book back onto a shelf, and finally turns to face her. He is dressed in a simple black shirt and the breeches he usually sleeps in. His hair is half tied, his leather patch secured around his head, over the space where his left eye should be, sliced out by her own brother’s hand.

The low light of the hearth casts shadows in the sharp edges of his face, the lines around his mouth, the curve of his lips, proud but restrained. His remaining eye is trained on her, glaring at her like a hunter approaches prey.

“You were there to watch your brother, I thought,” he says in that softly threatening voice of his. He comes close enough to loom over her, though just far enough that their legs do not touch. “Or did you find your eye wandering?”

Jace’s first mistake had been to go down to the yard early. Aemond was always there in the mornings after flying Vhagar, to train with Ser Criston Cole until noon. His next mistake had been to succumb to Aemond’s goading. Their uncle is never one to use violence at first, not like Aegon who would brawl with a gull if he thought it offensive enough. Aemond likes to use his words to tease and probe, to lure an opponent to action, and Jace almost always falls for it. The moment her brother had challenged Aemond to a sparring match she knew what the outcome would be. Jace was a promising fighter, but he simply could not match Aemond’s height, strength, speed or skill.

Her heart sank for her brother, but it couldn’t force her attention away from Aemond. He moved like a dancer, all fluidity and control, like he already had the entire performance planned out in his head. He toyed with Jace, kept his defence up, only to knock his sword from his hands and place his own blade at his throat in a sudden flash of silver and steel.

She’d had to bite the inside of her lip to stop herself from smirking.

“You humiliated him, before spectators,” she says.

Aemond frowns in mock sympathy, taking her chin between his finger and his thumb to tilt her gaze up. “I would do it a hundred times over, for my own pleasure if not for anything else.”

She tilts her head. “And what of my pleasure?”

He hums cryptically. The corners of his mouth flicker upwards. “Your pleasure is only my concern within the confines of this room.”

He’s looking at her like that again, like he wants to devour her.

He traces his fingers down her throat, her collar, the neckline of her shift. His touch is sparse but familiar, exploring the curves of her body through the fabric, patterns she’s felt before, spaces he already knows and seems to have mapped in his head.

He leans in closer, his other hand pressing into the bed, invading her space, infiltrating her senses with the scent of smoke and lavender. She could drown in it, the scent of him.

She shudders as he runs his nose over her neck, following the heat of his breath with a lingering kiss against the sensitive spot of her skin. “What is it you want from me tonight?”

She has an idea in her mind, one she’s been toying with since she had seen the look of pride in his face in the yard.

“Lie down, on your back.”

He stands straight first, removing his shirt and tossing it at the foot of the bed. Eye still fixed on her, he does as she says, making himself comfortable against the pillows.

She draws out every movement, just as he likes to do to her. She straddles him, settling her hips against the growing hardness in his breeches. She rests her hands against his chest, runs her fingers over his skin and the patch of silver hair revealed when she pulls on his shirt.

His hands are on her immediately, running up her thighs, gripping at her waist, bringing up the hem of her shift and tutting as though it has caused him some personal insult in hiding her body from him. He pulls it over her head and surges up to kiss her, capturing her lips with the desperation of a man starved. His kisses are always like this, slow and consuming, pulling her in closer and closer like he expects her to try to escape, like the only air he wants exists in her lungs.

It’s fast and overwhelming, and at first she’s content to just let it happen, to let herself be carried away in the currents of his wants and not her own, but once she’s a little more settled, she pushes him back against the bed.

He stares up at her, blood rushing to his cheeks, lips parted and panting. For all the times she’s seen his stoic exterior at court, she thinks he looks best like this.

“I thought you were concerning yourself with my pleasure?” she says, not bothering to contain her smile.

“I thought you liked it when I take what I want,” he retorts.

“I want you to do as you’re told.”

He huffs a laugh, but his gaze softens and his tongue wets his lips, his eye roaming appreciatively over her bare body, until he stops at her small clothes. All it takes is a few gentle rocks of her hips before his jaw tightens and his fingers dig deeper into the flesh of her waist. She swears she feels his hips twitch beneath her, but he makes no move to take what he wants.

She leans back on her haunches as she drags his breeches below his hips. By the sight of him, hard and reddened at the tip, she knows he at least finds something about this arrangement appealing.

She discards the rest of their clothing, his shirt, her small clothes, the leather eyepatch on his head. She pauses when she reaches for it, waiting for him to protest, but he doesn’t. He gives her a small nod and she slides it up to reveal the true extent of his scar, the twisted red flesh around the sapphire wedged in his socket.

She has seen it countless times before. She needs the reminder of who he is, how much he must hate her.

Now that they are both bare she resumes her position, pleasure like a flame licking up her spine as she traces circles over her centre. Aemond grinds himself against her, breathing with a strain in the back of his throat. The sound only makes the wanting feeling in her gut tighten. She can feel herself clenching over nothing, her body begging for more friction and the release it promises.

She feels she is wet enough to take him now, and her stomach drops in anticipation.

When he whispers her name, she knows she has him exactly where she wants him.

She closes her hand around his cock, giving it a few half-hearted strokes and lining it up to her entrance, only to hesitate. “I hear your mother is intending to invite Borros Baratheon to court,” she says.

Aemond catches his lip between his teeth, staring at the space where their bodies almost meet if she would only lower her hips.

“Might he bring one of his comely daughters? He has four, doesn’t he?”

Aemond huffs and meets her eye. His hands are still on her waist, his thumbs tracing circles over her belly. “Where did you hear this?”

She tries to pretend such a simple touch from him does not excite her or tempt her to relent.

Daemon has spies in the Queen’s household, not that she knows the specifics. Her mother had discussed the matter with her, expressing concern for the Hightowers’ intentions. It has been decades since a Lord of Storm’s End has stepped foot in the Red Keep, and Daemon believes their rivals are trying to close ranks, amass allies outside of the capital. Perhaps such a deal may be sealed with a marriage pact.

“What,” she breathes, trying to smile, “that his daughters are comely? I can only assume, for I’ve never met them you see–”

In the blink of an eye she’s beneath him.

Aemond brings a single finger to her lips. “I thought we had agreed not to discuss political matters in private,” he says.

“I did not realise the matter was political–”

He cuts her off when he snakes his hand down her body and pushes his thumb against her pearl. She hisses, her hips bucking to meet his touch.

“Are you trying to bait me, niece? Hmm? Is that what you came here for?”

She shakes her head as he circles over her. For such minimal effort on his part, it sparks something frustratingly bright in her, back arching, warmth settling between her legs and beneath her skin.

“Is that really what you want me to be thinking about? Wondering which one of the Baratheon girls is the prettiest?”

His fingertips tease over her entrance, but he doesn’t push them inside, instead they’re replaced by the head of his cock. She presses her lips together, determined not to make any kind of noise he could take for weakness, for wanting, but she feels it all the same.

“Presently, I’m only thinking about what I can see, and what I see is a spoiled little Princess, laid out beneath me. Poor thing, she’s trying to look smug, but I’m not sure I’m convinced, not when I’m about to fuck her tight, little cunt.”

Her pleading is mindless, falling from her lips as effortlessly as her breath. “Please… please… please…”

She wonders if it is her want or his own he eventually succumbs to. He pushes in slowly, delighted at the slight moan he elicits from her, sharing her air as she gasps at the pleasurable ache of being stretched out around him.

“I’ve heard rumours too, that Rhaenyra has been sending ravens to Highgarden,” he says as he starts to snap his hips against hers. “What business would your mother have with the Tyrells, I wonder?”

Rhaenyra has her own plans for a marriage pact, plans she’s known about for months. “What indeed?” she says, trying to smile as he ruts into her.

Aemond almost growls, burying his face into her neck. As his voice is harsher so are his thrusts. “My sister will sell you to a sickly little boy, is that it? Why would Rhaenyra want an alliance with the Reach?”

Because the King is little more than a breathing corpse and who knows how much life he has left in him. Because eventually, he will die, and they both know what will come next.

She’s always known her part in this, the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen. Her brothers may well fight in battles to defend their mother’s claim, but wars cannot be won without the necessary support. The Reach, The Riverlands, The Vale, The North, they must all be secured one way or another.

With his face hidden from hers she allows herself to admire the way his muscles move and flex under the smooth, pale skin of his arm. Since leaving childhood behind, he seems to have this idea of efficiency, with no tolerance for excess. His arms are slight, but defined where he trains with his sword each day, where he hauls himself onto Vhagar’s saddle and steers her around Blackwater Bay.

“It’s always been expected of me,” she says, tracing her hand over his skin, almost perfect, save for a few marks: a burn after an unfortunate encounter with Vermax when he was just a hatchling, a scar above his elbow where he fell from an apple tree, and crescent shaped indents from their last tryst. “I will do my duty.”

“Duty?” He stops, grabbing her by the neck so her breath hitches in her throat. He leans into her, pressing his forehead against hers, caging her between his body and the bed. She sees nothing but a single eye and a sapphire, nothing but contempt. “You’re the antithesis of it, crawling to your uncle’s bedchamber every night, begging to be fucked.”

Anger flares in her blood. She clamps her hand around his wrist and digs her nails into his skin, hoping it will mark him. “I have never begged for you,” she spits, teeth bared, lips grazing over his, “and I never shall…”

Her words fade on her tongue when he resumes a punishing pace, urging her closer to oblivion with every thrust.

“Oh there you go,” he coos, “that feels good, doesn’t it?” He’s on his knees now, one hand still on her throat, the other on her thigh, forcing her legs further apart, fingertips pressing painfully into her flesh.

She tries to pull away from his grip, pushing herself further into the bed amongst the pillows, but Aemond has always been stubborn and does not relent. She has nowhere to go, no other option but to take it.

“You’ll be sent off to some castle in a miserable corner of the world, live the dull life of a Lady. Your Lord husband will trade swords and shields for you like a brood mare and fuck his children into your belly each night.”

She feels her peak building within her, the weightlessness rising and rising, she can hardly take much more. “Do you believe I will think of you?” she says with a grin, “as he touches me, as he spills inside me…”

Aemond grunts, folding his chest over hers, brushing his lips over her cheek as he hisses, “wanton little whore. I am the one you seek out, and as long as you do, you are mine.”

It tears through her quickly, a spark that turns to flame, a piece of kindling caught alight, pleasure that reduces her simply to feeling, warmth and the absence of his weight on her body. She claws her nails into nothing, empty space where she expects to find his skin.

Aemond has pulled away from her, groaning as he comes, spilling over her stomach and thighs. She watches him, jaw slack, brows angled like he’s in agony.

She basks in the numbness her peak leaves behind as he drags his shirt over her skin to clean the mess he’s made with a touch that is soft and slow. His eye trails along her body to her face. She sees nothing in him, not amusement or satisfaction, not hatred or remorse, and yet he comes to lay beside her, turning her onto her side, settling against her back and putting his arms around her.

She allows it, too used to the feeling of lying in his bed, too used to the scent of sweat and smoke and lavender.

Aemond’s chambers are ruled by order, every book has its place on a shelf, he does not leave papers, clothes or used cups of wine lying around. The bedchamber lies on the south side of the castle, with a balcony overlooking the bay where two of them used to watch the ships leaving the harbour. She likes the intricate tapestries, scenes of Valryian mythology, and his fondness for the colour blue. Even if she cannot see most of it in the dark of night, the silence and stillness is comforting.

“Lord Corlys’ ship was attacked,” she mutters, placing her hand over his, where his palm against her stomach. “We cannot be sure if he even survived.”

“So I’ve heard,” Aemond says, “I’ve also heard Vaemond Velaryon intends to challenge the succession of Driftmark, should the unthinkable be true.

“And I assume the Queen and the Hand will support him in this endeavour.”

Aemond’s chest stills. “They will hear the petitions and pass their judgement,” he says, quietly but finally.

“Then the decision has already been made.”

Aemond’s breathing is deep, her hair fluttering against her cheek as he exhales. Her mother has a similar way of scolding her without uttering a single word, as if to say the answer should be obvious.

With a scoff she pushes his hand away and drags herself out of the bed. The cold air stings her skin and she makes short work of finding her night shift, discarded on the floor, and dressing herself.

“Lucerys has no claim to Driftmark,” Aemond says from the bed.

“And why is that?” she says shortly, grabbing her shoes from the foot of the bed.

He won’t say it, but the word is there, in the way he teases Jace, the way his family watch her and her brothers and stare at them across the throne room with nothing but disgust. It’s there in his indifference towards her beyond the walls of his bedchamber, avoiding eye contact, muttering under his breath, insults and backhanded compliments. But the last time he said it, it cost him his eye.

She turns to face him, a defiant glare through the darkness now that some of the candles have started to burn out.

“Coward,” she whispers.

He does claim to disagree.

With her shoes on, she moves towards the hidden door without sparing him another glance.

But she hears a ruffle of fabric, his feet against the floor as he follows her. His hand closes around her arm, hard enough it feels as though it might leave a bruise. He turns her into him, placing her back and his palm against the panelled wall.

“Stay,” he says.

“Surely you would not want to sully yourself, sharing your bed with a bastard.”

“But it’s different with you.”

“How? How is it different?”

He cups her face in his hands, begging her for something but never saying it. He leans in gradually, kissing her firmly. It’s easy to follow his lead, to let him slip his tongue between her lips, let him pull and tug at her delicate flesh, to feel him and lose herself to him. It makes her weightless all over again.

Once it was easy to love Aemond. They found friendship easily as children, even when they bickered and argued, because they could always forgive each other.

Some time ago she realised that love has always been destined to fade away, like summer changing into autumn, winter snows melting away with the spring. There is no place for it amongst the animosity between their families, causes they were born to, that neither of them will ever forsake.

Aemond pulls away but stays close to her, a hand on her waist, the other on her cheek. “I want you to stay.”

“And what then? What do you think could ever become of us?” The one-eyed Prince and the bastard Princess.

Suddenly she hates the stillness of this room, the weight of his silence in her chest.

Aemond’s hand slips from her cheek, his expression falling from pleading to indifference.

She leaves him standing there, bare chested and breathless, with no light to catch in the cut edges of his sapphire. She fades back into the shadows of the passageway, amongst the cold and the dark and the bones.

The rot has set in. The King will die, and both the Blacks and the Greens will seek to claim his throne. The empty space between her and Aemond can only ever grow.

Tags (comment to be added)

General taglist: @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya

912 notes · View notes

nouveauvague · 2 months

Text

"Kiss Me?" - Billy Washington x Best Friend!Reader

a/n: @helaelaemond wanted billy whimpering and anon wanted two idiots mutually pining after kissing at a party... here we gooooo 💕

Summary: Billy always manages to fuck everything good in his life up, except for you. But he's scared his actions tonight have changed that.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, alcohol consumption, minimal angst, oral m receiving, orgasm denial, tiddy succin, p in v sex, unprotected sex, BILLY WHIMPERING

Word Count: 3,000 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Trigger Point characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

Billy knows it’s absolutely pathetic how long he’s been in love with you. He thinks it may have started when he fell off of the swings at school and busted his lip open. You were the one who helped him to the nurse’s office and sat with him, holding his hand as she cleaned him up. He was definitely already in love with you by year two, when you beat the absolute shit out of Bobby Parker for making fun of Billy’s haircut. You had grinned at him, your nose bloody and hair in complete disarray, declaring that no one gets to pick on your best friend except for you.

He realized he cared about you as more than a friend by the time you reached year four. You held his hand at the cinema when a scene in the new horror film the two of you had snuck into proved to be too intense for him. Yet you? You remained completely unperturbed. Maybe that’s why he fell in love with you. Because other than his sister, he thinks you’re the bravest person he’s ever met. When you had your first boyfriend in year ten, the one who you had your first time with and left you soon after, he remembers how you walked into school, your head held high as you told your ex exactly what you thought of him. You’ve always been that way. Fearless.

Billy knows it’s you at his front door, judging by the insistent knocking and exclamations of his names, demands to “open the fuck up”. He shakes his head, grinning to himself before opening the door.

You frown, eyeing your best friend up and down, “You look like absolute garbage.”

“Wow, thank you,” Billy snarks as you duck under his arm and enter the apartment, “It’s great to see you too. I’m fine, thanks for asking.”

“You might be fine, but this fucking hovel which you call your flat is certainly not,” you say, wrinkling your nose in distaste - an action he can’t help but find adorable, “Fuck’s sake, Billy, when’s the last time you cleaned up around here.”

“Dunno,” he mutters, “Becky usually helped me out and I’ve just been… Yeah.”

“Yeah, I know,” you sigh, tossing a few beer cans in his garbage bin, “Well, anyway. You and I are going to a party tonight, so go get dressed.”

“I don’t want to go to a party,” Billy says, flopping onto his sofa, “I hate parties.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t give a fuck. There’s a costume party at Electric Brixton tonight and we’re going. I’m sick of you moping about like this. Go take a shower and get dressed.”

Billy has never been able to say no to you, and so, he reluctantly stands up, trudging toward his bathroom. He knows he’s going to regret this, but hey. He can’t bring himself to care. As he takes a quick shower, his thoughts are consumed by you. Your smile, your voice, the way it feels as if you’re the only one who truly gives a fuck about him. He wishes he could just grow a pair, tell you how he feels, and ask you to be his girlfriend. In his mind, he’s laying with you in bed, holding you close, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as you kiss his neck. He’s wanted you for so long now that he doesn’t remember a time when he wasn’t in love with you. It’s pathetic, but he doesn’t care.

He hears you bang on the bathroom door, letting him know you’re changing into your costume in his room, which he yells out an affirmative response to. Fuck, the idea of you… In his room… Changing… You’re going to be naked in his bedroom. He feels like such a loser, but his hand goes to his cock and he immediately starts tugging at it, imagining how good you probably look without any clothes on. He remembers the first time he saw you in a bikini, back when the two of you were fourteen. He quite literally had to run to the loo to get away from you and relieve himself, so that you wouldn’t figure out.

Billy imagines how fucking good it would feel to kiss you, to feel your body wrapped around him as he bucks his hips up against yours, the way you would fucking moan his name. He continues fucking his fist while thinking of you, wondering if you’ve ever done the same. If you’ve ever let your fingers wander to the apex between your thighs and imagined they were his, pumping in and out of you, bringing you orgasm after orgasm, never being able to get enough.

When he exits the shower, he’s surprised to see you, lazing about on his bed, dressed in, what else, but a sexy witch costume, complete with fishnet tights covering your gorgeous legs and red lipstick on that pretty mouth. You turn to face him, snickering when you see he’s just in a towel.

“Put on some clothes, you dirty slut.”

Billy blushes, all but shoving you out of his room and slamming the door shut. Is he going crazy or did you check him out for a minute there? He can’t be entirely sure, but God, he hopes it’s true.

When the two of you get to the club, Billy is somewhat dismayed to see a few familiar faces. He sees some of the people the two of you went to school with, hanging out in the corner. And of course they wave you over. You pull Billy by the hand, going to greet all of them, deftly avoiding the grabby hands of some of the guys, saying that you and Billy are going to go grab yourselves some drinks and dance. He feels pretty fucking happy that you’ve elected not to give them the time of day, focusing on him. The two of you walk toward the bar and order yourselves a couple of drinks.

Billy smiles at you, scratching the back of his neck nervously before blurting out, “You look stunning tonight.”

You take a sip of your drink, giving him a cheeky smile as you turn and face him, “Oh? Do I?”

He looks at you, downing his drink to give him the boost of confidence he needs, “You know you do. You always do.”

“So,” you say, leaning in, winking playfully, making Billy’s stomach flip, “You like my costume?”

Billy’s voice is lower than usual with a gruff edge to it as he manages to reply without stuttering, “Like is an understatement.”

You give him a teasing little smirk, lashes fluttering as you rest a hand on his arm, “Yeah? You really think so?”

Billy nods, swallowing thickly, “Stunning is probably a better word to describe you. Distracting, also. I don’t think I’ll be able to look away from you all night.”

He’s struck by the look in your eyes as you lean in closer, “Maybe I don’t want you to look away from me.”

You take him by the hand, giving him a lazy, sexy smile over your shoulder as you lead him to the dance floor. You press your back to his chest and begin moving your hips, urging him to grind against you. Billy knows he’s a terrible dancer, but somehow it feels so natural with you. And so, he follows your lead. He rests his hands on your waist, feeling himself getting harder by the minute as you move your body against his. It’s intoxicating, being this close to you, and fuck, your legs, your lips, everything…

You turn to face him, arms wrapping around his neck, and Billy’s heart beats like a drum, pounding against his ribcage as you look up at him with those eyes that have always driven him crazy. Because when he looks into your eyes, no matter what it is you ask, he folds like a fucking house of cards. He leans in slowly, hesitantly, as the two of you keep moving to the beat of the music, chest to chest. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes locked on each other’s. Your lips part slightly as you lean in, giving him your consent without words. Because it’s always been that way for the two of you, knowing what the other is thinking without ever having to say a thing.

Billy closes the distance between the two of you, cupping your face in his hands tenderly as he presses his lips to yours. And it’s everything he ever dreamed of. Your lips are soft and sweet and God, when you kiss him back? He thinks this might be the best moment of his entire fucking life. He deepens the kiss, tilting his head to the side, his tongue licking at your lips, smiling against you as you part them, your tongues dancing against each other’s. You moan into the kiss, fingers tugging at the ends of his hair while his own hands move down to your waist, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close. It doesn’t matter that you’re in the middle of the club, surrounded by people, because as far as Billy’s concerned? It’s just him and you.

Before he can lean in and kiss you again, he feels a tap on the shoulder and turns to see none other than his ex. Becky. She looks good, he has to admit, dressed in a nurse costume, hair perfectly set, makeup done to perfection. The blood drains from his face as he remembers the way things between them ended, and, as a knee jerk reaction, he pulls away from you.

“Oh, um, hey, Becks,” he stutters, “I… Uh,” he gestures towards you, “You remember my best friend-”

And with those two words, you pull away from him completely, heading toward the exit of the club. Billy turns away from Becky immediately, ignoring her protests, the way she grabs his arm, and rushes after you. He gently takes your hand in his, stopping you before you can leave.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, a bit too quickly, “Why would anything be wrong? I just forgot to… Water my plants. Need to head home.”

“Your plants are fake,” Billy retorts, “You stopped getting real ones after the first five died.”

“Yeah, well, I guess we can’t all be perfect like Becky,” you spit angrily, “With her perfect hair and her green thumb. Some of us are just the best fucking friend.”

Billy frowns, “Wait, don’t go, that isn’t-”

“Just leave me alone, Billy!” you snap, pulling away from him, wiping at your eyes, slightly smudging your eyeliner, “I’m going home. See you later. Have fun with Becky.”

He watches you leave, a pit in his stomach as you disappear from his sight. He’s always hated seeing you walk away from him. It’s always felt like a punch to the gut. And he knows this time? It’s all his fault.

You’re the one good thing he’s always managed to hold onto, and now, failure that he is, he’s fucked this up too.

Billy: Please text me back.

Billy: At least tell me that you got home safe?

Billy: I fucked up. I’m sorry. Please don’t hate me.

Billy: Call me. I’m begging you.

Billy: I’m sorry.

You stare at your phone, the thirteen missed calls and twenty-nine missed texts from your best friend. You toss your phone away from you, hugging your knees to your chest as you flip through the channels on your TV. All fucking romcoms. You want to scream. Then, it lands on “The Exorcist”. You nod to yourself, satisfied. There’s a story without any romance that you can get behind.

Just as Father Merrin is about to start exorcising Regan, you hear your doorbell ring. You check your phone to see if it’s your Deliveroo from the Chinese place down the street, but it lags, so you toss it aside and head to the door.

And there stands one Billy Washington, eyes rimmed red from crying, holding your takeaway bag and a bouquet of roses. His lower lip trembles and he looks at you with those blue eyes that have haunted you for the better part of your life.

“Hey,” you say quietly, averting your gaze.

Billy smiles slightly at the fact that you’re wearing one of his old tee shirts, that his clothes still bring you the comfort they always have, as he replies, “Hi… You doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” you mumble, shifting your weight from foot to foot.

“Can I come in?”

You nod, stepping aside to allow him inside, “Sure. Was watching ‘The Exorcist’.”

Billy is silent for a long moment before blurting out, “I’m really sorry. I saw Becky and I panicked. I don’t know why I referred to you as just my best friend because you’re so much more than that. You’ve always been more. You’re the most important person in my life, the only one who’s ever truly believed in me, and I’m fucking in love with you.”

Your jaw drops at his word. Never once, in a thousand years, did you ever think your feelings for your best friend were reciprocated. And now, you just stare at him, shocked. Billy turns away, as if he’s bracing himself for rejection. He doesn’t have the heart to face you while you tell him you only see him as a friend.

But then, you take his face in your hands and whisper the words he’s always longed to hear, “I’m in love with you too. I’ve always been in love with you.”

Billy gasps as you pull him in for a passionate, heated kiss, completely taking the lead as your tongue snakes into his mouth, dancing against his, your hands fisting in his shirt as you press your body against his. When you pull away for air, he lets out the quietest little whine, grinning to himself when you drag him by the hand to your bedroom, pushing him down onto your bed. He gazes up at you, hands on your waist as you pull your shirt over your head. His mouth goes dry as he sees your bare chest, hands reaching up to caress your tits, only for you to smack him and shake your head.

“No touching, baby. I’m in charge.”

Billy grins wryly, watching as you undo his jeans, pushing them down his legs and leaving him in just his boxers. You palm at his hard-on over the cotton fabric, letting out a low moan as you do.

“You’re so fucking hard, is it for me, baby?”

He nods, voice soft as he holds back the groan that threatens to leave his throat, “Always for you. Only for you.”

You push his boxers down, grinning to yourself as you see his cock for the first time, long and thick, veiny and red at the tip, pre cum already gathered there. You spit in your hand and give him a few slow strokes, using your thumb to spread his pre cum before giving a few kitten licks at his tip. Billy lets out a soft gasp at the feeling of your tongue on his cock, the way you press it along his vein before taking him into your mouth. Billy lets out a quiet little whimper, and you realize you want nothing more than to hear it again. You hollow your cheeks and begin bobbing your head up and down on his cock, taking him in so far that he hits the back of your throat. Your mouth is wet and warm around him and he can’t help but buck his hips up against you, whining pathetically as he begs you for more. Your eyes are locked on his as you cup his balls, massaging them, feeling them tighten as he gets closer and closer to his climax. You continue moving your mouth along his cock, over and over, his breathing getting faster and faster, until suddenly?

You pull away.

Billy stares at you with an almost injured expression, his lips parted, cheeks flushed, brows knitted together. You giggle, getting off the bed for a moment to take off your panties, leaving you completely bare in front of him. He stares at you like you’re the most beautiful work of art he’s seen in his entire life as you help him out of his own shirt.

“I’m on the pill,” you murmur as he reaches for your nightstand to grab a condom, “Wanna feel you inside me. Feel all of you.”

He nods, a shaky breath escaping his lips as you sink down onto his cock. He throws his head back, letting out a loud moan of your name, feeling how tight and perfect you feel around him. You begin moving your hips against him, slowly at first but increasing your speed. Billy whimpers every time you squeeze around him, gazing up at you with something akin to awe. You grin as he takes one of your tits in his mouth, lips wrapping around your nipple as he mouths at it. You continue bouncing up and down on his cock, feeling the head of it brush against your sweet spot with every thrust, bringing you closer and closer to your peak. You tug on his hair, hearing him whimper again, whining your name as he begs you to keep fucking him. He buries his face in your neck, eyes scrunched shut as you your walls clench around him, tighter and tighter.

“Feels so fucking good, fuck, fuck,” he whimpers, comforted by the feeling of your hands in his hair, his cock twitching inside you as he spills himself, your own release finding you soon after.

The two of you collapse against your bed, cuddled up against each other. It isn’t awkward, like you feared it might be. Not when his fingers intertwine with yours.

He looks at you, eyes vulnerable as he requests, “Kiss me?”

You nod, pressing your lips to his.

552 notes · View notes

nouveauvague · 2 months

Text

Lonely This Christmas

Pairing: Billy Washington (Trigger Point) x f!reader Warnings: Dark and obsessive behaviour, stalking, smut, dubious consent. Word count: ~4.5k

Summary: On a rare occasion when her and Billy both find themselves home for Christmas at the same time, they admit they've always fancied each other. However, as things develop between them, she soon realises that for Billy it's something much more sinister than a harmless crush. Based on this request.

Author's note: For my darling @heimtathurs. I don't have a tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She walks up the pathway to the front door, the combination of the bitter cold and the handles of the plastic carrier bag cutting into her flesh causing her fingers to sting painfully. The cans in the bag clank noisily against each other as she jostles it from one hand to the other, raising her fist to knock at the door. Her breath comes in hot, cloudy puffs as she shifts from foot to foot, relief flooding through her as she sees the silhouette of her best friend, Lana, appear through the glass in the door.

“Let me in then!” She grumbles, pushing past and handing Lana the bag, once the door is open. “It’s bloody freezing out there!”

It’s December 23rd, and time for her and Lana’s annual tradition of Christmas Eve Eve film night - a ritual that they’ve managed to keep alive since they first met in secondary school, though as the years have passed their taste in films has matured and they can now sit and openly drink beer, instead of needing to sneak a bottle of MD 20:20 back and forth between them beneath a duvet, like they did as teenagers.

The location never changes - always at Lana’s parents’ house - even now that she’s moved out, she always comes home for two weeks over the festive period, and like clockwork the two of them sit on the sofa the evening before Christmas Eve and stare at the TV until they can no longer keep their eyes open.

She shrugs off her coat as she moves through the hallway, into the living room, the warmth from the central heating causing her skin to prickle with the pleasant rise in temperature. Rolling her eyes as she spies the DVD case for Die Hard on the coffee table, she sits heavily down on the sofa, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs beneath her.

“We watched this last year,” she says to Lana, who follows a few paces behind, having deposited the contents of the bag into the fridge in the kitchen, “It’s not even a Christmas film!”

“It’s set at Christmas, so it’s a Christmas film,” Lana shoots back, handing her a can of Stella, before flopping down beside her and cracking open her own. “And Bruce Willis in that vest? I’m gripped.”

She snorts a laugh, opening her own beer and taking a deep sip, enjoying the way the coolness of the bitter liquid fizzes against her tongue.

“How’ve you been anyway? Your mum and dad not in?”

Lana swallows and pokes at the inside of her cheek with her tongue. “Nah, they’re out for the evening, think they could use a break since face-ache moved back in. I’ve only been back here a few days and he’s already doing my head in.”

She feels her cheeks heat up at the mention of Billy. She’d met Lana’s younger brother when he’d started at the same secondary school as them and, although he was a couple of years below them, she’d always thought he was cute. He was tall, if a little on the lanky side, and his floppy blonde hair and big blue eyes instantly attracted her to him. She’d kept the fact that she fancied him to herself though, feeling it was inappropriate to lust after her best mate’s brother, especially a younger brother.

As the years had passed, Billy’s seemingly permanent cheeky smile had faded into a persistent look of misery. He’d done badly at school, left with failing grades and been rejected each time he’d tried to apply to join the army.

Meanwhile, Lana had flourished, leaving school with a handful of As and Bs. She’d enrolled at college, before enlisting in the army and from there her career in the police force had taken off. She’d moved away from home, had a place of her own and had made her parents proud.

Billy, on the other hand, had struggled with chronic unemployment, eventually falling in with an alt right group who had set him up for a potential terrorist attack. He’d barely escaped the explosion on Cranstead Gardens, and had never really pulled himself back together afterwards. His relationship with his long-term girlfriend, Becky, had broken down and he’d moved out of their flat and back in with his parents, where he’d been living for the last six months.

She hasn’t seen Billy since they left school, but Lana tells her all about him whenever they hang out or chat on the phone. She’s always felt strangely protective of him, where Lana and her parents have given Billy a hard time, she has opted for a softer touch, believing he just needs someone to understand him.

“You can’t be so hard on him,” she says, finger pinging against the ringpull of her can absentmindedly, “he’s been through a lot.”

Lana sighs, grabbing the remote from the coffee table. “You don’t know him like I do. He’s not paying any rent, never tidies up, isn’t bothering to look for work. We can’t help him, he won’t let us, doesn’t wanna help himself.”

“Where is he at the moment?”

“Skulking around upstairs,” Lana nods towards the staircase. “First Christmas he’s not spent at Becky’s mum’s in a long time and he’s taking it…well, I couldn’t tell you how he’s taking it, he never leaves his bloody room.”

She nods sadly, letting the topic go as they settle back into the sofa cushions as the opening credits for Die Hard begin to roll.

“I’m empty,” Lana says around twenty minutes into the film, shaking her beer can. “You want another?”

“It’s alright, I’ll go,” she tell hers, taking her empty and heading towards the kitchen, eager for a break from a film she had no interest in watching last year, let alone again this year.

She chucks the cans into the recycling bin, before opening the fridge and retrieving two more. She yelps as she closes the door, startled by Billy standing there.

“Jesus, Billy–”

“Sorry, sorry…” he mumbles apologetically, a tinge of pink dusting itself across his cheek bones, as he averts his gaze. “Wasn’t tryna scare ya, just came down to make a cuppa.”

She exhales through her nose, a smile tugging at her lips. “S’alright. How are you getting on, anyway? It’s been a while.”

“Yeah…” he says uncertainly, filling the kettle from the sink and then flicking it on to boil. “Guessing you heard what happened then?”

She nods, placing the cans on the side and wiping the condensation off of her hands onto her jeans. “Lana told me. I’m so sorry, Billy, I really hope you’re okay.”

He says nothing for a moment, dropping a tea bag into a mug, followed by a generous pour of milk.

Milk first. Ugh.

“It’s been hard, y’know,” he finally says, “tryna find work, but there’s fuck all out there. What are you up to these days? You’re looking well.”

The sudden shift in focus doesn’t go unnoticed by her, he’s clearly not keen to talk about himself, but she can’t help but smile at the small compliment, feeling herself grow bashful.

“Got a job at a marketing agency,” she tells him, “nothing fancy, but it pays the rent.”

She’s actually a high ranking executive, living in one of the area’s most expensive flat blocks and has a tidy sum saved away for a deposit to eventually buy a place of her own. She’s unsure of why she’s downplaying her achievements, perhaps on some level she feels she owes it to Billy to not rub her success in his face when he’s clearly having a rough time of it.

The kettle boils and Billy fills his mug, stirring the tea bag around with a spoon, before squeezing it out with his fingers, making her wince - that has to burn, but if it does it doesn’t appear to bother him. He discards the used bag on the side, before turning to her. She can see what Lana means about him not tidying up now, it would have taken two steps for him to put it in the bin, and he hasn’t bothered. The laziness almost makes her want to laugh.

“So you and Lana doing your film night then?” He asks, noisily slurping his tea, then fixing her with a soft, yet unblinking gaze.

The intensity of his baby blue eyes flusters her, and for a moment she forgets what he’s asked, feeling the same old butterflies from their school days return. She clears her throat, shaking her head as if to rid herself of the feeling.

“Y-yeah…I’m surprised you remember. You were a teenager the last time we did one of those with you here,” she smiles warmly.

He nods, keeping a hand wrapped around his mug, pushing off of the kitchen side towards her and suddenly she’s aware of just how tall he’s grown, her throat running dry as she feels the kitchen counter bite into her back as she presses herself against it.

She deflates slightly, letting go of a breath she wasn’t aware when she’d been holding, a little disappointed when he brushes past her, lingering in the kitchen doorway.

“I remember,” he says, a ghost of the lopsided smirk she loved so much from their school days playing upon his full lips, “remember what a racket you and Lana used to make pretending you weren’t pissed on that nasty blue stuff.”

She grins, her gaze dropping as she fiddles with the cuff of her jumper sleeve, thinking back to all those years ago. “Sorry, Billy,” she finally says, looking up at him, “we’ll keep it down tonight.”

“No worries, I’ll be upstairs,” he tells her. “Enjoy your film.”

“Billy?” She calls softly after him as he moves to go back upstairs.

He turns, looking at her questioningly.

“You’re looking well too, by the way.”

The dusting of pink that had appeared across his cheekbones earlier now returns in earnest and he gives a simple nod before turning and heading up the stairs.

She deposits his now cold, used teabag into the bin, then grabs hers and Lana’s beers from the side and goes back into the living room.

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully, her and Lana finish off Die Hard, then move onto Gremlins.

On the couple of occasions that she goes upstairs to the bathroom she can hear the sound of Billy playing Call of Duty through his closed door. She thinks about knocking to invite him down to join them, but figures if he had wanted to do that he’d have asked in the kitchen, so she leaves it.

They’re halfway through Jingle All the Way when she feels her eyelids start to grow heavy. She leans forward, placing her half drunk can on the coffee table and turns to Lana.

“I’m gonna have to push off home, babe, I can’t keep my eyes open.”

Lana nods, pausing the film and sitting forward with a yawn. “Yeah, should probably get to bed myself. You gonna be alright getting home? Need me to call you a cab?”

“Nah, it’s only down the road, I’ll be fine walking,” she insists as she puts her shoes and coat back on.

“Alright, well, text me when you get home, yeah?” Her friend says, pulling her into a hug.

“Course,” she smiles, hugging her back and heading towards the front door. “Have a great Christmas. See you for New Year’s.”

Lana waves her off and as the front door closes behind her, she’s about to head back down the pathway when the glowing ember of the end of a lit cigarette catches her eye.

She turns to see Billy leaning against the side of the house, smoking a roll up.

“You off?” He asks, exhaling a plume of smoke that’s made larger by the cold that clings to the puff of his breath.

“Yeah. Was good to see you, Billy,” she says, trying to ignore how her pulse races at the way the soft glow of the street lamp illuminates the sharpness of his side profile.

“I’ll give you a lift, if you want?” He offers, crushing his cigarette beneath his foot.

“You don’t have to do that, I’m only twenty minutes down the road,” she says, suddenly feeling awkward, putting her hands in her coat pocket.

“And you could be five minutes down the road if I drive,” he retorts with a smirk.

She sighs, her gaze softening. Not having to walk home in the cold would be nice, actually. “Yeah, go on then.”

Billy walks around to the front door, opens it and fishes around on the key hooks until he has the set he needs. They walk down the road until they reach a red VW Polo and he unlocks it.

“New car?” She asks nonchalantly, having expected to see his old silver Vauxhall Cavalier.

“Nah, this is mum’s. Haven’t had a car since…well…y’know.”

Since it blew up. Fuck, how could she be so thoughtless?!

“Oh god, Billy, I’m so sorry, I–”

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, opening the driver’s side door. “Do you mind just giving me a minute before you get in?”

She nods, keeping her hands in her pockets, watching as feels all around the car’s interior, checking inside the glove box and under the seats.

Checking for explosives.

He finally settles behind the steering wheel, gripping it tightly, attempting to calm his breaths.

“Honestly, Billy, I don’t mind walking…” she says quietly.

He looks up at her, as though just remembering she’s there. “No…no, it’s fine. I want to do it. It’s good for me, I have to.”

“Can I get in now?” She asks, giving Billy a reassuring smile.

He nods, and she walks around to the passenger’s side, climbing in and buckling her seatbealt.

Billy starts the car and they drive in silence for a few moments before he finally speaks.

“You must think I’m such a loser,” he mutters, fingers flexing against the steering wheel.

She turns slightly in her seat, shocked by what he’s said. “I’ve never thought you were a loser. Please don’t say that.”

“I’ve got no job, no car, I live with my mum and dad, can’t even drive without needing to check I won’t fucking blow up first,” he scoffs, “don’t bullshit me.”

“I’m not!” She protests. “You’ve been through so much, Billy, you need to give yourself a break.”

His lips quirk, he pulls a hand away from the steering wheel to pull at the collar of his t-shirt. “S’not just what happened though, brought it on myself dad says. I’ve always been a loser, ever since school.”

“I never thought you were,” she assures him gently, “I actually really fancied you back then.”

Billy draws in a sudden breath, glancing sideways at her as he pulls up outside of her block of flats.

How does he know where she lives? Lana must have told him.

“And now?” He asks, turning off the engine and twisting in his seat to look at her.

It feels as though all the air has left the car suddenly, as they stare at each other. She isn’t sure what possesses her, perhaps the three cans of lager she’s drunk throughout the evening, but she finds herself leaning over the centre console and pushing her lips against his.

He reciprocates, soft and unsure at first, but quickly gains confidence, his mouth moving against hers with more urgency.

She cups his face, her fingers grazing over the stubble at the corner of his jaw that he always seems to miss when shaving and she smiles into the kiss, enjoying its roughness against her fingertips.

Billy seizes the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth and she moans softly as it slides against her own.

Their pupils are wide with lust, the windows of the car fogged up when they finally part for breath, keeping their foreheads pressed together.

He strokes his large hand over the back of her head, his voice barely above a whisper. “Can I come up?”

She swallows thickly, not wanting to reject him, but knowing it’s not a good idea to rush things. “Not tonight, Billy, I–”

He jerks away, hurt flashing across his features, rubbing his nose on the back of his hand. “Right, yeah, sorry, was stupid to think you’d want that…”

“No, no, it’s not that!” She says, reaching over and taking his hand in hers, running her thumb over his scarred knuckles. “We’ve waited so long for this, I don’t wanna rush it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, his shoulders relaxing as he breathes an audible sigh of relief. “Can I text you then?”

“I’d like that,” she looks at him through hooded eyes, “let me give you my number.”

“I’ve got it, don’t worry.”

Oh. Something else Lana must have given him.

“Alright then. Well, goodnight.”

She leans over and pecks him on the lips, then exits his car.

When she goes to sleep that night it’s with a smile upon her face, knowing that her childhood crush feels the same way that she does. In the back of her mind, she knows that Lana will go mad when she finds out, but that’s a bridge she’ll cross when she gets to it.

She is less than enthused when she awakens the next day realising it’s Christmas Eve and she needs to make her annual visit to her great aunt’s for room temperature sherry, mince pies and questions about why she isn’t married with children yet.

Her face lights up when she sees a text on her phone from an unknown number and realises it’s Billy.

She grins excitedly to herself, calling her great aunt and feigning a migraine, before showering and readying herself for her day with Billy.

True to his word in his text, the buzzer to her flat sounds an hour later and he is at her door a few moments later.

It’s awkward at first, as they both stand there sizing each other up, unsure of what to say or do, until he takes the initiative and steps forward to kiss her.

It all feels so easy and natural, as though it’s something they should always have been doing, and when he takes her hand in his as they walk into town she can’t help the way her heart skips a beat at how perfectly her hand slots into his.

They walk around the Christmas market together, hand in hand, drinking mulled wine. For the first time since they were at school together, she sees Billy laugh, a genuine, happy laugh. He makes jokes, a sparkle returning to his eyes and he looks so relaxed, she is finally able to see his potential again, all that he could be if he wasn’t constantly wallowing in self pity, lurking in Lana’s shadow and taking his parents’ criticisms to heart.

When he walks her home that evening, she doesn’t hesitate to invite him up. Gentle affirmations of “I had a nice time today” rapidly escalate to needy kisses as they tug at each other’s clothes. This is the Billy that she wants, and she sees no point in waiting any longer.

His large hands eagerly grasp at her hips as she pushes him down onto the sofa, straddling his lap.

They are a frenzied clash of lips, teeth and tongue, her hands finding their way into his hair, pulling his head back slightly to mouth at his jaw and neck. He groans at the sensation, hips bucking up to meet hers.

When he slides down his tracksuit bottoms and boxers to free the ample hardness that has been pressing against her thigh for the last five minutes, she lifts herself, meaning to remove her tights. She gasps when his long fingers pluck at the crotch, tearing them open and pushing her knickers to the side.

His digits swipe through the wetness of her folds and she shudders against him. “You on the pill?” He asks gruffly.

She nods in affirmation, a whine escaping her as he replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, slowly pressing into her.

The sounds he makes against her ear as he thrusts up into her are lewd, but with every grunt and breathy moan she clenches around him. This is a purely carnal act of desire, fulfilling years’ worth of pent up animalistic need. There will be plenty of time for gentle lovemaking, but right now she just needs to feel him, and judging by the way slams her down to meet each quick thrust, jaw slack and brow furrowed, she is certain he feels the same way.

The throbbing of him inside of her, as he spills deep within her, drives her over the edge and she peaks with a strangled cry, tightening around him in quick successive pulses.

They remain like that for a long while afterwards, resting against each other on the sofa, in the darkness of her living room.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, you’ve got no idea,” he whispers eventually, once his breathing has returned to normal.

“Me too,” she whispers.

“I wanna stay, but–”

“It’s Christmas Eve, Billy, it’s alright. You should get home before your mum gives you an earful.”

They pull unsteadily apart, adjusting their clothes, and she walks him to the door.

“I’ll text you, yeah?” He says.

“Yeah,” she smiles before kissing him softly, “Merry Christmas, Billy.”

“You an’ all,” he murmurs, pulling her into a tight hug and then walking away.

Christmas Day is uneventful. Presents and a roast at her parents’, followed by an afternoon of board games and films.

She gets a happy Christmas text from Lana, and smiles when she gets one from Billy too - the first he’s ever sent her.

By the time Boxing Day rolls around, she’s already thoroughly fed up with her family and eager to be back in her own space. She grins when her phone buzzes with a message from Billy.

She pulls out her phone, thinking carefully about what to send to her best friend, before typing a message.

She arrives at Billy and Lana’s parents’ house an hour later and is given a warm welcome by everyone. It’s strange not being able to interact properly with Billy, considering how close they’ve become so quickly over the last few days, however, he carries himself with a confidence she’s never seen him have in front of his family before.

He stands a little straighter, actually bothers to make eye contact when he talks to people. It spreads a warmth within her chest to see him no longer looking so downtrodden and defeatist, she can no longer sense the anger that used to simmer just below the surface like she used to be able to.

His eyes find hers whenever no one’s looking and she can’t help the smiles that she directs his way.

The leftovers have been dished up and they’ve been sitting around the TV for an hour when she goes upstairs to use the bathroom.

Noticing Billy’s bedroom door ajar on her way back downstairs, she can’t resist a peek inside. She’d never dared go in when she’d come to see Lana when they were younger. She pushes the door fully open, nose wrinkling at the rumpled bed sheets and assortment of dirty socks and boxers that litter the floor, but smiles as she casts her eye over the Oasis poster on the wall and the acoustic guitar that leans against the chest of drawers.

She twiddles absentmindedly with the PS4 controller, when a box that’s been shoved haphazardly beneath the bed catches her eye. She drags it out, pulling out a scrapbook that sits on the top.

Her heart hammers in her chest, her blood feeling as though it runs ice cold as she flips through it. It’s filled with old school photos of her, plus newer pictures that have clearly been printed off from her social media accounts.

Rummaging further into the box she pulls out items she’d assumed she’d either lost or that Lana had borrowed on the occasions she’d stayed over - there are scrunchies, old lip balms, even a pair of her underwear. Disgust causes bile to rise in her throat, a mixture of fear and disbelief quickly spreads its way through her body.

“You weren’t supposed to see that,” Billy’s voice says quietly from the doorway, causing her to gasp as she looks up in fright. “Doesn’t matter now though, don’t need that shit anymore, not now I’ve got the real thing.”

“Billy,” she pleads, her voice shaking, “what is all this?”

“I’ve always wanted you, never thought you’d feel the same though. She looked like you, y’know,” he tells her, stepping closer and shutting the door behind him.

“Who?” Tendrils of icy fear spread to her belly, every nerve in her body screaming at her to run, yet she stays rooted to her spot on the bed.

“Becky,” he says simply, “she was the spit of you. Only reason I went out with her, to be honest. I was gutted when she ended things, but she doesn’t matter now. Don’t need some cheap knock off, not when I have you.”

“Please, Billy, you’re scaring me,” she whispers, tears pricking her eyes.

“Everything’s gonna be alright. Job hunting, the bomb, none of it matters because I’ve got you.”

“Listen to yourself, this isn’t you,” she pleads, backing up on the bed away from him as he towers over her.

“You’ve seen how much better I am with you, you can’t take that away. I need you. And I make you feel good too. Look, you just need a reminder.”

He looms over her on the mattress, his hand darting between her legs and she whimpers.

“Billy, no, please…”

She wants to scream, to cry out and make him stop, but the thought of attracting the attention of Lana and her parents and them coming up here and seeing all of this is more than she can stand. So she lays there, lets Billy slide his hand up her skirt and into her underwear, hating the way her body responds to his trust.

“See?” He murmurs again the shell of her ear. “Only I can make you feel like this. Everything is gonna go my way now that you’re mine, you’ll see.”

Her vision goes watery, a combination of tears and building pleasure causing the poster on the opposite wall to blur.

She tenses as his fingers work her quickly towards her climax and she screws her eyes shut, shuddering with a quiet whine as she falls apart.

“There you go,” he coos gently, “I’ve got you now, and I’m never letting you go.”

The way he says it sends a shiver down her spine. Billy is a man with nothing to lose. He means it. He’ll never let her go.

450 notes · View notes

nouveauvague · 2 months

Text

It's Who We Have | Mini-Series Masterlist

Billy Washington x Childhood Bestftriend!Female Character

Summary: When Billy's best friend comes back to London when he's at his lowest, he slowly learns that it's not what you have, but who you have.

General Taglist | Billy Washington Taglist

General Warnings: eventual smut, angst, toxic relationships, mentions of terrorism

Playlist for Vibes

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

moodboard by @lynnbeth5172 🥰

Taglist: @at-a-rax-ia @aemondsfavouritebastard

243 notes · View notes

nouveauvague · 3 months

Text

Behind the Scenes | (epilogue)

Behind the Evolution

pairing: actor!aemond × fem!reader

summary: things seem to be going well, but there is still a missing part in Aemond's new life and that is you.

word count: 12.4k (I know it's really long but it's totally worth it, I swear😭)

previous part • series masterlist

and me again, apologizing for the long delay. my life has been so crazy lately, i have no time and i miss writing, but it's finally here and i hope you like it a lot🤗

it took me a long time to give you a good chapter, so please comment and let me know your opinions, it really doesn't cost anything.

to break your head writing and not get any comments is sad, any writer will understand me, so please and i would appreciate it a lot😭🙏🏻

now yes, read and enjoy!

warnings: aemond and aenar melting our hearts, fluff, sexual content, smut.

Life has become better for both, you and Aenar, and you are very grateful for that. Now, your days go by with a calmness that you have never experienced before.

You are happy and above all Aenar is happy, who radiates joy and happiness at all times, with his laughter always filling the air, a melody that reminds you how lucky you are to have him in your life.

There is honestly nothing better for him, feeling very grateful to his dad and also to the Targaryen—Hightower family.

Aemond has been a pillar of support and love since this new chapter of your life began.

His dedication and commitment to Aenar has been unwavering. Also his family has been a network of support and love that have welcomed Aenar and you with open arms.

And this is exactly what you think about every morning you wake up, realizing how much your life and Aenar's life has changed, for the better.

You yawn, carve your eyes and linger for a moment staring at the curtains in your room, where the sunlight reflects and paints a soft glow on the walls.

Then when you feel fully awake, you head to Aenar's room to check on him, watching him sleep in his crib, where you mostly remember the sleepless nights you had to go through since he was born.

But now the peace in the room is palpable and you lovingly watch your son sleep soundly.

He is now exactly one and a half years old, and you and Aemond continue to devote all your effort and love to ensure his well-being.

Together, you change diapers, take care of him, prepare his meals, buy his necessities and take him for walks in the park, enjoying every moment shared with him.

From the beginning, you and Aemond committed to help each other in Aenar's upbringing and that's exactly what you do. And considering that Aenar is now of age, there comes the exciting moment when he babbles his first words more clearly.

It was one day after Aemond comes home from work and the three of you are in the living room watching the movie that Aenar loves lately and always wants to watch, Cars.

When suddenly, he makes a sound, like some kind of playful babbling that catches yours and Aemond's attention almost instantly.

"Ma-ba-ba," he says as he moves his arms up and down, as if he's reaching for something more than just the words, "Ma!" he exclaims, with a huge smile.

He's sitting in the middle of both of you and you smile nervously at once, as you feel your heart start to beat too hard from excitement.

"What is it, baby?"

You say in a honeyed tone, taking him in your arms tenderly and sitting him on your lap, making sure he can see you and Aemond.

"Mo-ma!" he exclaims with a beautiful smile, his eyes sparkling with curiosity and a spark of amusement.

"You mean 'mommy'?" Aemond also tells him in a honeyed tone, stroking his silver hair lovingly. "Yeah, my little one?"

"Mo-ma," Aenar repeats, raising his arms again, watching his daddy with the same happiness and adoration.

"Mo-mmy," Aemond pronounces slowly, precisely, pointing at you tenderly, "Mommy," he emphasizes, smiling adoringly. "She is your mo-mmy," he continues, pointing at you once more, "Can you say 'mommy'?"

Your smile doesn't fade as you watch your little one try to pronounce that special word with Aemond's help.

You even join in and repeat the same word back to him in the same way, as Aemond gives him more patience and continues to encourage him to say the whole word.

"Mo-mmy," Aemond repeats him.

Aenar frowns with concentration, as if trying to decipher the secret of the words.

"M-moo."

"Mo-mmy," Aemond repeats again with excitement and anticipation, almost getting there.

Aenar moves his lips, as you exchange a nervous smile and glance with Aemond, your hearts beating in unison as you hold Aenar's small hands between yours.

Your gazes meet, too, communicating a mixture of shared excitement and anticipation.

And then, it happens.

With a concentrated effort, Aenar points to you and with his eyes shining with excitement, he emits a sound that seems to contain all the love and joy in the world.

"M-ommy," he babbles, his tender, trembling voice filling the room.

And in that moment, your heart fills with overwhelming happiness and your eyes fill with tears of joy and melancholy as you look down at your child, your lips quivering with pent-up emotion.

"Yes, my baby!" exclaims Aemond happily with a huge smile, leaving a resounding kiss on his cheek to then look at you with excitement and longing.

Aenar laughs and is thrilled by the way you both smile and celebrate his first word, while you pull him closer towards you and start leaving repeated kisses on his cheek, hugging him with love and also congratulating him for his good work.

Aemond can't contain his emotion and joins in the embrace, wrapping his family in a warm and loving hug.

Tears also glisten in his eye as he gazes at his son with indescribable pride, knowing that this moment will be etched in their hearts forever.

And the three of you celebrate this precious moment, immersing themselves in the joy and excitement of this magical moment.

And you stay there, in the living room, surrounded by the scattered toys and Aenar's playful laughter, while you ask him to tell you mommy one more time and Aemond, as excited as you are, records it and sends it to his mother and siblings, announcing the great news.

But Aenar's adventure doesn't stop there.

Soon, both of you, and especially Aemond, encourage him to venture out on his first steps.

With each shaky and brave attempt, they celebrate his accomplishments, being part of each small step towards his growth and development.

Their laughter fills the house as he takes unsteady steps, clinging to furniture and seeking balance, while Aemond and you stand around him, arms outstretched, ready to catch him should he stumble.

Not only at home Aenar tries to take his first steps, also at the Targaryen—Hightower mansion, where Helaena and Daeron together with Alicent also encourage him and take care of him while he walks and holds on to the furniture.

Until the moment finally arrives in the garden of your house.

The warm afternoon sun caresses the garden, painting every corner of the green lawn with warm and golden tones, creating a cozy and lively atmosphere.

For a while now Aemond has been walking with Aenar all over the lawn. Although he has no object to hold on to, Aemond guides him gently and patiently, holding him and encouraging him to take each step bravely.

You watch them from the kitchen windows, having finished washing a few dirty dishes, smiling as Aemond makes playful airplane sounds and Aenar laughs.

As he moves forward, his confidence grows, his steps become steadier and steadier, guided by his father's unconditional love and support.

Until eventually you decide to join in.

You sit on the grass, at a considerable distance from them, neither too long nor too short, with an encouraging and proud smile on your face.

Aenar, more excited than before to see you join them, his little hands clasp tightly in his father's, his eyes shining with a mixture of happiness and determination.

"Mommy!" he exclaims happily, pointing at you and you laugh.

"Do you want to go with mommy?" asks Aemond in a honeyed tone.

"Mo-mommy," he babbles, wiggling excitedly in his father's arms, still standing.

Aemond laughs and holds him firmly by both hands.

"All right. Are you ready, champ?" he asks him, his voice full of enthusiasm and encouragement.

"Come on, honey!" you encourage him, stretching your arms out to him, "Walk to mommy, come on."

Aemond encourages him and still holding him, with an uncertain but determined step, Aenar lifts one foot, followed by another, his tiny feet pressing against the soft grass.

"That's it, baby!" exclaims Aemond with joy, his smile lighting up his face.

With each step, your heart pounds in your chest, pride filling you as you watch your little one intently and lovingly.

"Well done, keep it up baby!" you encourage him, reaching out your hands to him, "Come on, come to mommy."

With a glint of determination in his eyes, smiling Aenar keeps moving forward, his steps still hesitant but full of courage. His little hands cling tightly to those of Aemond, who guides him patiently and lovingly across the soft lawn of the garden.

As Aenar gains confidence, his steps become surer and more determined. And little by little, Aemond begins to let go of his little hands, allowing his son to take his first independent steps.

And with palpable care, Aemond walks behind him, stretching his arms around his little body to catch him in case he needs extra support.

And then it happens.

Aenar strides forward supporting himself, his giggles filling the air as he approaches you with determination, almost running. Your heart swells with pride and excitement at the sight of him as does Aemond.

"Yeah, yeah, keep it up, you got it!" you exclaim happily, unable to contain your happiness as you stretch your arms out towards him.

"Come on, come on," Aemond encourages him too, smiling, watching just as excited as you are about the moment.

And finally, with one last effort, Aenar takes one more step as he reaches toward you and falls into your open arms.

Laughter and congratulations fill the air as you pick him up and embrace him tenderly and excitedly, at the same time as he too laughs and doesn't quite understand his parents' huge smiles.

"You did it, my love!" you exclaim, full of amazement and unable to contain your joy.

You watch Aemond surprised and happy, where his gaze also shines with pride and amazement, as he reaches over and deposits a soft kiss on his son's hair.

Happiness and love fill the space between you, creating a moment you will treasure forever.

And after that memorable moment in the garden, Aemond's family witnesses Aenar's first steps as well. Helaena and Alicent decide to organize a picnic in the garden of the mansion and invite the whole family.

They are all spread out in the garden, the weak rays of the sun caressing their faces as they enjoy the lively afternoon, sharing laughter and conversation, with the sun about to set.

Aenar, full of joy and excitement ventures out once again to walk with the help of Aemond, his brothers and Alicent. While you find yourself sitting with Rhaenyra, her husband Daemon and Aegon at one of the tables.

You recently had the pleasure of meeting the rest of Aemond's family and Aenar as well.

Daemon's daughters, Baela and Rhaena are also here, as are Rhaenyra's eldest and youngest sons who also couldn't help but melt for Aenar.

There are other family members present as well, such as Rhaenys Targaryen and her husband, Corlys Velaryon.

You engage in conversation with Daemon and Aegon, but mainly with Rhaenyra and Rhaenys, while you watch from a distance as Aenar takes small, hesitant steps, but with his determination and joy evident in every movement.

Helaena, Daeron, Jace, Luke and Alicent watch him with pride and adoration, clapping and cheering him on with every step he takes, holding out their hands to guide him.

Alicent, with a tender smile, watches his grandson with love and admiration, while Otto Hightower nods approvingly, acknowledging the family Aemond has, even though he and you are not together.

Afterwards, the meal is served and everyone takes a seat at a large table, with Aemond at your side and Aenar on his lap, as everyone begins to talk about different topics of conversation.

Eventually also Helaena decides to take Aenar in her arms once both of you have already eaten to take him to play with little Aegon and little Viserys on the lawn, with Jace also helping her to supervise her younger siblings.

And even though both you and Aemond know that Aenar is in very good hands, like the protective parents you are, you can't help but watch him from time to time.

But it's more about watching him interact with Rhaenyra's younger children, the three of them laughing, playing and imitating car sounds, the three of them sharing their toys.

Then Rhaenyra introduces you more cordially to Rhaenys, wanting you to get to know each member of the family in depth, where almost immediately the three of them strike up conversation.

While Aemond and Daemon, like the protective fathers they are, watch with little smiles as Daeron, Luke and Joffrey entertain the younger children with their games and antics.

When again Aegon stands beside his brother and watches as the two of them watch the scene before them.

The sounds of laughter and commotion fill the air, as Daeron and his nephews immerse themselves in the infectious joy of the children and make them laugh, creating moments that will be fondly remembered for years to come.

Amidst the hubbub and fun, however, Aegon notices something else.

He watches as Aemond, his eyes shining with happiness, can't help but look away from you from time to time.

He sees you laughing and chatting with Rhaenyra and Rhaenys, and there is something in the way he looks at you that he has seen before that reveals his deep longing and affection.

"You haven't spoken to her?"

He decides to ask him, trying to broach the subject cautiously, causing Aemond to look at him instantly, confused and curious.

"With whom?"

"Y/N," he says quietly, pointing at you with his gaze, "You know... you haven't talked to her and tried to get her back?"

Aemond averts his gaze, his blue eyes reflecting a mixture of longing and reserve.

"No, I haven't," he says with some resignation.

Aegon looks at him with compression but also with some disappointment, for he understands his position but still, if he were him, he would at least try to talk to you.

And he waits for you to tell him more, but he doesn't.

"And why not?"

Aemond lets out a sigh.

"Because I don't want to ruin things between the two of us," he says sincerely, "Talking to her about it might make her uncomfortable. She might even feel in a bad position and I don't want that."

Now it is Aegon who lets out the sigh.

"Bro," he places a hand on her shoulder, "If you don't try you'll never know what will happen. Maybe things will turn out differently and you might be surprised. But you'll never know if you stand by and do nothing."

Aemond thinks over his brother's words, feeling the weight of his advice. His gaze is lost on Aenar, laughing and playing with the other children who continue to fill the air with their laughter and joy.

But the truth is, Aemond has thought about doing it, talking to you.

But he honestly feels torn between his desire to do it to see what might come of it and to preserve the harmony between you and him.

A mixture of emotions engulfs him, the longing to try to reconnect with you, mixed with guilt and remorse for past decisions that caused you so much pain.

On the one hand, he sees how everything has improved between you, how Aenar's presence has woven a stronger bond and how together you have found a new form of happiness.

But on the other hand, uncertainty washes over him, reminding him of the wounds of the past and the possibility of reopening those scars.

He wonders if you, like him, have put the pain and disappointment behind you, if you would be willing to give him a second chance.

Do you still love him, or has that been replaced by indifference or even resentment?

Aemond sighs, feeling the weight of indecision on his shoulders.

"I know," he replies, his tone heavy with contemplation, "But I don't want her to feel pressured, or worse, to think I'm trying to force something that's no longer there."

"Aemond, I understand your point and what you're considering," he tells him with his expression reflecting a mix of empathy and determination, "You don't want to lose her trust, you want to make things right and that's fine," he assures her, "But if she meets someone new....

He starts to say and Aemond's whole body immediately tenses up, instantly observing him with a serious look and his open eye completely attentive, not liking to hear that.

But that is exactly the reaction Aegon expected and he continues speaking to prove his point. Though he senses the tension in his brother and proceeds cautiously.

"If she meets someone new, wouldn't you rather have tried to fix things before that happens?"

Aemond ponders his brother's question, feeling the weight of his words. For a moment, his mind fills with images of you with someone else, and the thought fills him with an awkwardness he can't deny.

"I'm just saying that if you don't try and that happens, you're going to regret it later," he explains to him, "And worst case scenario, if you decide to talk to her, at least you'll know you tried."

Aemond mulls over these new words, letting the prospect of an uncertain future with and without you intermingle in his mind. Images of a possible you together with someone else cause him a pang of pain and a sense of emptiness he can't ignore.

"I know," he finally admits, his voice heavy with thought and concern, "I understand what you're saying, Aegon. And you're right that I don't want to regret not trying. But I'm also afraid that..." he smacks her lips, "That this conversation will ruin everything between us."

Aegon feels disappointment wash over him and has no choice but to resign himself and take it for granted that he will not muster the courage to speak with you.

So he lets out a long breath, gives him a friendly pat on the shoulder and nods sympathetically. And Aemond seeing it, notices the disappointment in his gaze.

"I'll think about it," he promises him, wanting to give him that hope and himself as well.

And Aegon places a small smile.

"Just don't think about it too much."

Meanwhile, the play between the children continues with joy and excitement, each laugh and shout filling the air with a melody of happiness. As the entire Targaryen-Hightower family immerses themselves among the familiars in conversation.

Until eventually the sun begins to set on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink.

You talk with Alicent and Helaena, while Aenar exhausted but happy, snuggles in Aemond's arms, surrounded by all the love and affection of his family, until it's time to go home.

The darkness of night envelops the room, interrupted only by the faint glow of the night lamp and the clock showing two-thirty in the morning.

Aenar's cries fill the room as you swing him in your arms from side to side, walking around the room, stroking his back and trying to soothe him.

You feel a knot of worry as you watch him squirm uncomfortably in your arms, feeling his little body warm and his skin damp with tears.

His cheeks are pink and his eyes are red, as you try to wipe his face and try to get him to calm down, but the medicine hasn't soothed his pain and he also refused to take a bottle baby.

You run a hand over your face, still feeling drowsy and trying everything you can to be able to calm him down.

"Shh, shh, my love, it's okay," you whisper in a soft voice, rocking him tenderly and gently, "Mommy's here, sweetie."

But Aenar's persistent cries don't abate for the next fifteen minutes and as time passes, you don't know what else to do.

You know it's a fever, but it's not high, as the thermometer indicates. But you don't know why the medicine doesn't work.

But you do know that if it is very serious, you will have to take him to the hospital. But you know you can't do it alone, you need help and right there you decide to call Aemond despite the time.

With Aenar still in your arms, you carefully take your phone and dial his number, hoping that he will answer in the late at dawn. But he doesn't answer the first call.

Aenar shrieks louder and you dial again, pacing around the room, desperate and frustrated, still trying to calm him down and redialing Aemond as many times as it takes until he answers.

Until he finally does.

"Aemond?" you call out to him hopefully, with urgency and relief.

"Y/N?"

You hear his deeply hoarse, sleepy voice on the other end of the line.

"I'm sorry to wake you but I need your help."

Aenar's cry sneaks through the line, causing the dream to quickly fade from Aemond's system.

"What? What's wrong? Is everything okay?" he asks, concerned and attentive.

"Aenar is sick, he has a fever but it's not high. He won't stop crying, I've given him medicine and it's not working. I've been like this for almost an hour," you explain, your voice trembling with worry, "I-I don't know what else to do."

Aemond jumps out of bed, feeling the worry take hold of him as he pulls on a t-shirt and tennis shoes, not dropping his phone from his ear.

"I'm on my way, okey?" he says in a determined voice, as he hurries to get dressed and leave his room, "Don't worry, I'll be there soon enough. Just... keep trying to calm him down."

His voice is full of anxiety, worry and urgency as he tries to calm your nerves as well as his own.

"Okay," you murmur.

And each cry through the line only fills Aemond with more and more worry and it also breaks his heart to hear his little boy cry like that.

While you can hear the background noise, like the jingling of his keys and the buzzing of the door lock as it opens.

"I'm on my way out right now," he assures you, his tone urgent but comforting. "Don't worry, Y/N. I'm coming."

Meanwhile, you struggle to remain calm as you hold Aenar, your nerves on edge as you listen to her steady cry.

And as you wait for Aemond to arrive, you strive to soothe him, rocking him gently and whispering comforting words. But each time you try to comfort him, his crying becomes more intense and your concern grows in tandem.

And it's only made worse by the fact that you feel time seems to slow down and every second feels like an eternity.

Until finally you hear the sound of the door downstairs and your heart leaps with relief that it is Aemond.

It is precisely because of situations like this that you both made the decision that he also has a copy of the house key with him, so things are easier for both of you.

Then you hear his hurried footsteps up the stairs and when the door to the room opens abruptly, Aemond enters with his worried but determined look.

And you watch him with complete relief.

"Hey," you try to smile in the midst of the worrisome situation, still cradling Aenar against your body.

"How is he?" he asks, almost running to both of you.

"He won't stop crying," you tell him, feeling a lump in your throat, as Aemond runs one of his hands through his son's silver hair, "And the medicine still isn't working."

He nods with compression but still with concern.

"Hey, hey," he says softly, lovingly, still stroking his hair and yet still looking concerned, "What's wrong, my little boy?"

Aenar only cries harder and he begins to examine him.

With delicate hands, he checks his temperature and gently pats his forehead and cheeks, while Aenar continues to sob and writhe in your arms. Aemond frowns, concerned about his son's fever and the distress he is experiencing.

"It's probably because of the discomfort."

"So what are we going to do?" you ask, desperately searching for a solution to alleviate your son's suffering.

"Let's give him a bath," he propose, "It will bring down the fever and we'll also give him some more medicine. We'll see if that will make him feel better."

You nod, trusting him and thinking it's a good idea.

Aemond takes his son in his arms and Aenar clings to him tightly, while his tears keep falling down his chubby pink cheeks. And you quickly head to his bathroom to get everything ready.

Aemond cradles Aenar gently, feeling your heart clench at seeing him so distressed.

"It's okay, my little boy," he murmur to him, kissing his forehead tenderly, "Let's make you feel better, okay?"

Together you carefully place him in the tub, making sure the water is warm and comforting.

Aenar cries hoarsely and his body shivers slightly, but the comforting sensation of the warm water seems to calm him a little and his crying becomes quieter, but he still doesn't stop crying.

"Don't you think we should take him to the hospital?" you ask, still worried.

Aemond looks at you seriously and softly at the same time, his eyes reflecting the same concern you feel inside.

"I think we can handle it from here for now," he replies, his tone calm but confident, "The fever isn't too high and he's crying because he's not comfortable. But if the medicine doesn't work and he doesn't stop crying in another hour, we'll take him," he assures you.

You nod, that sounding good, and together you continue bathing Aenar, with you holding his little body very carefully while Aemond washes his hair and cleans it carefully.

After the bath, you both wrap him in a soft towel and carry him back to his room, where Aemond carefully administers another dose of medicine.

"I hope this helps," he murmurs, his voice full of hope as he watches Aenar with concern.

At least he's not crying like before but he's still crying.

Aemond gently cradles him once you put him in soft, comfortable clothes, pacing around the room, while you watch them attentively and worriedly, really not wanting both of you to have to take him to the hospital afterwards, hoping the bath and medicine will work.

Then finally Aemond feels him slowly begin to relax, sees his cries become softer and his little body loosen in his arms.

"I think you can let him sleep in his crib now," you whisper softly, feeling a great relief as you see Aenar slowly calm down in his father's arms, moving towards them carefully.

"No, he probably wants contact. If I leave him in his crib, he might cry again," he explain in an equally soft whisper. "But it doesn't matter, I can sleep with him on the couch."

You watch him intently and slightly worried.

"Are you sure? You won't be uncomfortable?"

He shakes his head, his expression showing serene determination.

"No, I'll be fine," he assures you gently.

He glances at Aenar, who now seems calmer, and then meets your eyes again, conveying a sense of gratitude and trust in you.

"Do you think you could prepare a baby bottle for him?" he asks you gently.

You nod with a comforting little smile.

"Of course."

The two of you walk down to the first floor, with Aenar still in Aemond's arms. You turn on the living room lamp and then head to the kitchen, while Aemond turns on the television with the volume low, providing a quiet background for the evening.

You open the cupboard, take out the baby formula and a clean bottle bottle. You carefully measure out the correct amount of formula and pour it into the bottle. Then you fill it with warm water and shake it gently until the mixture is completely dissolved.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Aemond settles down on the couch with Aenar in his arms, looking for the most comfortable position for both of them.

And seeing you return, he takes the bottle ready for Aenar.

"Thank you."

"I feel like you'll be uncomfortable," you insist, slightly worried, softly, "Are you sure you'll be able to sleep?"

"Yes, don't worry," he tells you disinterested, softly, "Besides, look at him," he points to Aenar, "He's already comfortable, he's feeling better and I don't want him to cry again."

You let out a long breath, as he is right.

But you interrupted the poor man's sleep at midnight, for an emergency, yes, but that he now sleeps on the couch is not acceptable to you and you feel sorry for him.

But Aenar is already calmer in his arms and that relieves you too much. And besides, it seems like the only option.

"I'll get you a pillow and a few blankets," you tell him, heading for the stairs.

And soon enough, you carefully place a pillow behind his back to bring him more comfort and then cover him and Aenar with a soft, warm blanket for the cool night.

Aemond settles in gracefully, thanking you softly, carefully adjusting Aenar in his arms and allowing his little one to drink from his baby bottle.

And as he continues to settle into his father's comforting arms, feeling the warmth of his body envelop him and enjoying the bottle, his breathing becoming calmer and more regular, Aenar finally falls asleep.

And that's when the feeling of total relief finally comes over you as you see him asleep, calm and serene.

Aemond also feels all the tension and worry leave his body as he sees his son healthy and comfortable in his arms, sleeping soundly, making sure he is well at all times, taking care not to wake him up.

And with a sigh of relief, you settle on the couch next to him, wanting to be present and supportive in whatever is needed during the night, in case of anything.

And this exactly catches Aemond's attention, watching you slightly confused but still with that warmth in his gaze.

"What are you doing? Go to sleep."

"I'm fine here," you reply calmly, offering him a small soft smile.

"You should go get some rest," he gently urges you, "You were alone for a long time trying to make him feel better, now I can take care of him for the rest of the night."

"No, I won't be able to sleep peacefully," you explain gently, "I want to stay here and help in case of anything."

Aemond looks at you with appreciation, but also with concern and in that he disagrees.

"I understand that, but seriously, you need to rest," he insists with an understanding look, "I'll take care of Aenar. Besides you'll only be on the second floor and I'll come with you if anything needed or happens."

Your tongue runs across your lips, still hesitant as you watch him.

"Are you sure?"

He gives you a small comforting smile.

"Very. Go to sleep, don't worry, honey."

You can't help but feel a strange feeling inside you as you hear his nickname for you, surprising you, so you quickly look away, trying to look unaffected and feeling for a second nervous.

And finally after a brief moment of hesitation, you finally agree, aware that Aenar is in very good hands.

"Okay," you give in with a tired little smile, getting up from the couch, "But you know, if you need anything or anything happens, anything at all, let me know."

"Sure," he answers you with a nod, conveying reassurance, "Sleep well."

"You too, Aem," you tell him as you start to walk away towards the stairs.

Eventually as the minutes pass Aemond begins to resume sleep now with Aenar in his arms, needing rest and feeling somehow more relieved to have his little one in his arms as you can make sure he is okay.

And you too, already in your bed, drift off into your sleep now feeling relieved and with no more worries.

The clock changes from three in the morning to eleven, where the warm sunlight gently reflects your room, while you wake up and yawn, still feeling sleepy.

You check your phone and knowing that you still have to sleep, your need to check on Aenar is greater and the unconscious reason that made you get up after a few hours of sleep.

And once in the living room, Aemond and Aenar are resting peacefully on the couch, their breaths soft and even, immersed in their deep and peaceful dreams.

You place a soft, small smile on your face at the sight of them, definitely feeling better to see that Aenar seems to be better after the long, troubling night.

With light steps, you approach the couch, trying not to disturb the sound sleep of father and son.

Fortunately no daylight enters through the blinds covering the large windows of the living room, only the TV on and also the entrance to the kitchen illuminate it a little.

And as you reach beside them, you gently stroke Aemond's hair, who from the sensation and your comforting touch, slowly half-opens his eyes.

"Hmm?" murmurs in a sleepy, hoarse voice, blinking slowly.

"Aenar seems much better," you whisper to him with a reassuring look, averting your gaze to your little one asleep in his father's arms, "I thought in that maybe you could let him sleep in his crib so you can rest more comfortably too."

Aemond nods slightly, his expression relaxed but still sleepy.

With careful movements, he rises from the couch, gently holding his son in his arms as you head towards the stairs. And once in his room, he very gently deposits him in his crib and tucks him in with a soft blanket, making sure he's comfortable before walking away.

"He definitely looks much better," he tells you with a relieved tone, "He's having a very good sleep."

"Yes," you confirm with a soft smile, sharing his sense of relief, "Yes, it looks like the rest is doing him good," you say, watching Aenar lovingly as he sleeps peacefully in his crib.

Aemond exhales softly, letting out the pent-up tension of the night, which instantly catches your attention.

"And you slept well? Was it very uncomfortable?" you ask him with some concern.

"Oh, no, it was fine," he answers you with a small smile and carefree attitude, "The important thing was that Aenar felt better and..." he sighs, "We both had a very good sleep together."

You nod with a grateful expression, though your eyes reflect a lingering glint of concern.

"Thank you for coming and taking care of him," you murmur gratefully.

"No need to thank," he replies softly, returning your small smile.

You both say nothing for a few seconds and he yawns, showing obvious signs of accumulated tiredness after the night of worry.

"I think I should go home now," he says in a soft, sleepy voice, though his gaze still reflects concern for his son.

You frown slightly.

"You're still tired. You should get some more sleep," you tell him, placing a comforting hand on his arm.

He is hesitant, torn between wanting to rest and worrying about Aenar, which you notice.

"You don't have to go," you tell him softly, "Sleep in the guest room and later we can fix something to eat."

He lets out a sigh.

"Are you sure?"

"Very," you nod, "Now come."

Together you head towards the guest room, where you prepare the bed for him, handing him soft blankets and also pillows to make him sleep more comfortably.

Aemond arranges everything in his own way as well and as he does so, his hand brushes against yours briefly, sending an electric current through both of you.

You both look at each other briefly and remain absorbing the stillness of the room, silent. You look away almost instantly, a little embarrassed.

But then, in a burst of sincerity, Aemond breaks the silence.

"Remember that day when we drove to the coast?" he asks you, his nostalgic smile adding a special sparkle to his eye.

A flood of memories wash over you, that sunny day and the laughter shared during that trip, so you nod with a warm smile.

"Yeah, how could I forget," you reply softly, "It was a beautiful day."

The mention of that special day seems to open a door to a sea of shared memories.

"And that you fell in the sand when we got to the beach?" you add, with an amused smile.

He lets out a laugh and you immediately follow suit.

"Yeah, how could I forget," he replies with a chuckle, sitting up in bed, "I can still feel the sand in my pants."

"I still remember what you looked like," you reply with a laugh, feeling the warmth of nostalgia envelop you, "You had sand in your hair too."

Aemond looks to a specific spot, his eyes shining with the light of memories as he relives every detail of those days.

"I remember we spent hours searching for sea shells on the shore," Aemond adds with a nostalgic smile. "And you insisted on keeping them all in a bag, even though you could barely carry it at the end of the day."

You laugh softly, nodding knowingly.

"I'll never forget the moment you tripped over that giant shell and almost fell into the water."

Aemond chuckles, the sound filling the room.

"It was a close call! Good thing you caught me just in time."

"Yeah," you nod, taking a seat next to him casually, also reliving those moments in your mind, "I also remember when we would go to the movies and always argue about what movie to watch," you mention, your voice slightly tinged with fondness from past memories.

"And how we would always end up watching a movie that neither of us wanted to see," he adds with a knowing smile, recalling the light and playful arguments you both used to have.

As memories flow between the two of them, an atmosphere of warmth and complicity fills the room, also in an intimate and cozy way, as if time had stopped to allow them to fully immerse themselves in the past.

The closeness between your bodies becomes obvious and a comfortable silence settles between you as you immerse yourself in the nostalgia of those shared moments.

Aemond observes you with a deep gaze, full of tenderness and complicity.

"I remember that day at the lake," he murmurs, his voice soft as a whisper, "That summer we planned a picnic and dropped that pie in the water."

A playful smile appears on his lips as he mentions that memory and you can't help but laugh as you recall the scene. The memories seem to come alive between you, as if you are reliving those moments together once again.

"And how you tried to catch that giant fish with your bare hands," you add.

He lets out a soft laugh.

"Nothing worked exactly as I had planned," he admits, "But it was fun, don't you think?"

"Definitely," you nod with a smile, letting nostalgia wrap around you like a warm blanket, "They were happy times."

"And they still are," he murmurs, his tone laden with meaning as his eyes meet yours, "At least for me."

Your heart flips at his words, and in that instant, you are overwhelmed by the intensity of emotion that threatens to overflow inside you.

Suddenly, Aemond takes your hand gently, and a shiver runs through your body at the contact. His fingers intertwine with yours in a natural way, as if they fit together perfectly.

Every touch, every gesture, seems to charge the room with a palpable energy, as if the air itself were charged with electricity.

Instead of running from it, however, you decide to let yourself be swept up in the moment, not knowing exactly why but allowing the connection between him and you to grow even stronger.

"For me too," you confess, your voice barely a whisper.

A tense silence fills the air, charged with anticipation and possibility. And the pounding of both of your hearts you can hear it in your ears, echoing loudly.

"Really?" he asks you longingly, his eye shining with hope.

You nod softly, letting your eyes convey to him the truth of your words.

"Yes," you answer truthfully.

His gaze shines with gratitude as he looks into your eyes with that longing and intensity, and at that moment, the tension is palpable between you and as if following an irresistible impulse, also without too much thought, you both slowly approach each other.

Aemond leans fully towards you and you, as if there is an invisible magnet, are drawn in without too much thought and your lips meet in a soft but meaning-laden kiss.

There is insecurity and shyness at first, surprise even, as if Aemond senses that at any moment you are going to push him away with one blow, creating a brush between both lips, wanting to make sure that this is something you want too.

But you feel the same way he does too, and more than anything it's as if you're testing the waters before you dive in completely.

And soon enough that tension fades, replaced by a wave of warmth and familiarity.

He moves his lips against yours with more purpose, this being something he longed for since the two of you were reunited, when the universe decided to give him this second chance and now that it's finally happening, he can't believe it.

You gasp against his lips and raise one of your hands, placing it on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to you, as he places one of his hands on your lower back.

And then time seems to stand still, as you both sink into the kiss, your hearts pounding.

It is a kiss in perfect harmony and every touch, every sigh, every movement, is intense.

Gradually the pressure of the contact of lips against lips increases and the kiss becomes deeper and more passionate. Aemond feels as if he is floating and you remember the familiarity of it.

He slides one of his hands tenderly down your cheek as you gently caress his face and each touch is electric, sending currents of emotion through your bodies.

And when you finally separate, with your breath coming in short gasps and your heart pounding in your chests. There is a gleam of wonder and joy in Aemond's eye, while you are enveloped in a warm sense of accomplishment.

You both slowly pull apart, but keep your foreheads together, enjoying the proximity of each other

"What was that?" you ask, unable to look away from his bright, question-filled eye.

"I don't know," he answers you in a low tone, as if you're both sharing a secret, still unable to believe it, with that awe and longing, "But I've wanted to kiss you since the first time I saw you again."

You can't help but feel that flutter in your lower abdomen as you hear his words and you both stare at each other, plunged into the comfortable and meaningful silence.

When Aemond pops the little bubble and suddenly looks at you worried and sorry.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what happened," he mumbles, "Maybe it's not what you wanted and I got carried away—

"No, you don't have to apologize," you tell him instantly softly, "I think it was something we both needed."

"You wanted it?" he asks you still unsure.

"Yes," you confess, letting the emotion flash in your eyes as you dive deep into his.

Aemond smiles softly with tenderness, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

"I can't believe I waited so long to do this," he murmurs.

The warmth of his breath against your skin makes you shiver slightly, and without another word, he leans into you once more, seeking your lips with his in a kiss full of tenderness and passion.

He sucks on your lower lip with his mouth and you gasp, making him make his way into your mouth with his tongue.

And suddenly all you can think about is Aemond Targaryen.

The kiss is more needy, almost demanding, as his hand comes to rest in your hair and he pulls you fully into him, panting into your mouth, making you involuntarily start to move closer to his body.

Normally Aemond would think the two of you are just kissing and not going any further, but things begin to change the moment he notices your intention to sit on his lap, causing his alarm to disperse.

Both of your movements are more needy, almost letting go and he pulls away with a wet sound from your lips and watches you completely attentively and worriedly, his lips swollen and red.

"Y/N," he calls to you in alertness, "You're—

You don't let him finish, as again you kiss him without thinking too much and he doesn't object, kissing you back intensely.

And without stopping kissing him, you raise yourself slightly on the bed with the help of your knees, place a hand on his shoulder and drape a leg over his lap, sitting on top of him, bringing your hands to his hair.

He places his hands on your waist and both of your breathing begins to get heavy, with the room filling with the gasps and wet sound of kissing with each caress.

"Fuck-" he groans.

"Ae-mond," you sigh against his lips, beginning to feel that delicious ache between your legs.

And there's what I'd missed so much, too.

You saying his name like that, having you like that, kissing you like that, just everything about you that he can't believe is really happening.

Panting your name sends a wave of arousal throughout his body and he begins to feel the hardness in his pants.

He clings with more need to your lips and his hand grips your hair more firmly, gently tugging it away from your lips and planting soft, wet kisses on your neck, descending to your collarbone.

"Fuck, Aemond," you gasp, giving him more accessibility, your eyes closed and your lips parted.

He slowly moves back up the kissing path he drew on you and you lean in to kiss him again, repeating his actions, also leaving kisses on his neck, inhaling his deliciously masculine scent with a slight baby scent by Aenar.

You begin to feel the bulge in his pants, just below you, sending waves of excitement to your core that begins to tighten its walls around nothing.

And unable to help it anymore, you start rubbing your covered center against his hardness, kissing it and feeling yourself burning up inside, the room suddenly feeling too hot.

"Oh shit," Aemond gasps against your lips as you feel yourself rubbing against him, relieving a little of his need to find relief.

You roll your hips sensuously and with enough intensity that you both feel it all, causing you both to start breathing through your mouths.

He holds your waist tighter, panting against your lips and watching you as if you were a Goddess.

"You look so pretty," he says hoarsely.

This sends a new wave of arousal to your core and you also feel your cheeks light up.

And not knowing exactly what to say, you lean down to his lips again and take his lower lip in your teeth, pulling it free, causing him to move you more intensely on top of him.

"Take this off," you tell him between gasps, grabbing the edges of his shirt.

He does so without much thought, tossing it towards a spot in the room regardless, while you bite your bottom lip at the sight of his bare chest and run your hands over his white skin.

It's been years since you last saw him like this and he's not the only one who's been waiting for this since you both started being on the same page.

So you lean back in to kiss him and soon your own clothes on you start to bother you, so you take them off too, unable to resist any longer, revealing your bra.

Aemond leans back, watching you curiously and completely aroused.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," you murmur.

And that's just when Aemond no longer has any doubts.

You want this as much as he does.

So without further concern, he kisses you again and makes you rub against him again, feeling his hard cock begging to be released and relieved.

He runs his big, hot hands down your bare back, wanting to unbutton your bra, sending shivers and electric currents throughout your body making.

Your face and neck are on fire from his kisses and movements, making your whole lower stomach feel on fire as well.

He finally unbuttons your bra and pulls it across the room, leaning down to watch and admire you, feeling like his cock is going to explode at any moment at the sight of your breasts.

"Fuck," he murmurs hoarsely in delight.

He keeps one hand on your lower back, while the other goes up to one of your breasts, squeezing gently to do the same with the other, wanting to give them both equal attention.

He rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, making you gasp and arch your back at the feel of his calloused fingers on your soft skin, feeling so good.

"I missed these amazing tits, baby," he murmurs, now holding both breasts with both his hands, kneading them as he wills, "I can't believe I missed watching them fill with milk."

You moan and gasp loudly as he ducks his head and takes one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking it gently but hard enough.

"Oh, yes," you whimper, pulling your chest closer toward his face.

He runs his tongue all over the areola and gently grazes the nipple with his teeth, while his other hand keeps squeezing the other with his long, firm fingers.

He releases the nipple with a wet pop and looks at you with that twinkle in his eye, still kneading them.

"Do you like it, baby?"

"Yes," you murmur, rolling your hips on top of his cock, "It feels so good."

He takes the other nipple into his mouth, giving it the same attention as the last, while you moan at the delicious sensation.

Then he releases it with a wet pop and kisses you again, as he lowers his hands to your waist and continues down to your ass, kneading both your cheeks and squeezing it appreciatively.

You roll your hips against him with more purpose this time, kissing him, unable to get enough of him, needing more.

You suck and nibble on his neck, your hands roaming the hairy, silver planes of his chest, moving down his belly and reaching the edge of his pants.

That's when you stop and raise your gaze to him, silently asking his permission without saying a single word, watching as he's expectant in his gaze, trying to control his shaky breathing and holding back completely from pouncing on you.

"Please," he looks at you needy and you don't need to hear any more.

You sit on his knees and with your hands you begin to undo the buttons, watching the huge bulge forming, while he reaches up a little to pull his pants down just enough, as well as his boxers.

And when you see it, erect, big, fully hard and with its red tip, anticipation and excitement sweep over you.

You move towards him again, making him lean back further, sitting on his stomach and gently taking his hard cock in your hand.

He sighs as he feels the warmth and softness of your hand envelop him, gasping as you begin pumping in a not fast enough but not slow enough rhythm on his cock.

"Oh-fuck, baby," he murmurs hoarsely into your face, his cheeks pink and his lips parted, "Oh God."

He moans as you run your thumb over the tip, smearing a drop of cum in circles around the fat head.

His head falls back, sighing in relief as he feels his cock getting that attention it needs, while you kiss his neck and your free hand gently strokes his hair.

"Does that feel good, baby?" you ask in a low, husky murmur in his ear, causing him to shiver.

He hums in pleasure, tilting his head toward you to look into your eyes.

"It feels so good," he says appreciatively, hoarse and panting, "It feels so fucking good."

You kiss his lips and he gasps into your mouth as your hand strokes him more frantically, your fingers soaked with his fluids enveloping his cock completely.

"Ah... fuck," he says in plessure, closing his eye.

You run your hand completely up and down, even touching his two hard rocks, causing Aemond to squint and eventually his breathing becomes more choppy and agitated, on the verge of cumming.

He finds it embarrassing that you've barely started to touch it and he's already about to make a mess of it, but that's not what you think.

You feel a sense of satisfaction and are concentrating on making him feel good, even if it means making him cum in your hand, when suddenly, he grabs you by the hips, stops your movements and lifts you abruptly.

He wraps your legs around his naked torso and gently places you on the bed, while he stands upright.

"You almost had me," he says in a husky voice with a playful little smile.

You bite your bottom lip as he removes his boxers and pants, standing completely naked towards you, then leans back down towards you.

He places one of his hands on your cheek and kisses you deeply, running his hand slowly and gently between the valley of your breasts, down your belly and finally reaching down to your sleep pants.

But you grip his hips tightly with your thighs, flooded with heat and arousal as his cock presses against your still covered center.

He rolls his hips against you, still kissing you, rubbing along your pussy dripping with your juices, while his hands caress as much of your skin as they can.

You try to roll your hips, craving more friction, but one of his hands presses you against the bed, pinning you down as he takes his time, rolling slow against you as much as he wants.

"Fuck, I bet you're dripping."

You whimper.

"Yeah? You're already wet for me, baby?" he asks condescendingly against your lips.

"Aemond," you moan, "I need you," you plead.

"Don't worry, baby. I'll give you exactly what you want, everything you want," he says with some affection to again trap your lips in a passionate kiss.

"Please."

You beg, desperately trying to move against him.

"Shh," he whispers, rolling his hips against you again, this time a little harder.

You moan and he smirks with some satisfaction, watching your every expression, loosening his grip on your body and his hand moves down to the edge of your sleep pants.

"Okay baby, let me see that pretty pussy."

His words entertain you and without a second thought, you lift your hips and remove your pants, also your panties, as Aemond moves the clothes out of the way and he smiles and feels his cock pulse as he watches you spread your legs for him.

With his own hand he strokes his nice big cock, admiring your naked body at his disposal as if you were not real.

"You're so fucking wet," he moans, moving closer to you again.

Then he finally takes pity on you and runs one of his fingers along your slit, instantly feeling your juices envelop him completely.

You moan and clench your thighs, as he slides his finger through your folds and you moan once again pathetically, biting your lips.

Then he finally slides his finger down and gently presses inside your tight entrance, to sink it between your walls, as he uses his thumb to massage your bud.

And you let out a whispery moan at the comforting sensation.

"Oh my—

An electric sensation envelops you, as he thrusts his long finger in and out, then adds a second finger, pushing further in and pulling them apart, stretching your walls.

His thumb gently massages your bud in circles, causing you to jerk in breath-stealing pleasure as you press against his fingers.

"Fuck!" you moan, closing your eyes.

"What is it, baby?"

He asks you through parted lips, admiring you.

"D-don't stop," you beg in a low sob.

He adds a third finger, stretching you even further as his thumb presses against your bud, making you shudder with pleasure.

He continues to stimulate and arouse you until you become a mess, whimpering and growing that feeling deeper and deeper inside you, on the verge of exploding.

He curls his fingers, sending another little jolt of electricity inside you, dragging his fingers in and out of your soaking wet pussy.

You bite the inside of your cheek, as Aemond's other hand reaches up to caress one of your breasts.

And just when you think you're about to cum, he notices your whole expression puckered in pleasure, your lips in a perfect 'O' and your eyebrows drawn together, with your breath hitching, he pulls his fingers away from your pulsing, needy pussy.

Immediately that liberating sensation disappears and you moan in reproach and disappointment, watching him confused and instantly completely dissatisfied.

"Be patient, baby," he tells you as he takes you by the waist and places you in the center of the bed.

"Aemond," you moan again in reproach, "P-please."

"You're going to cum but not yet."

He leaves you in the position he wants and you notice how he is still erect and completely needy, instantly your mouth watering at the prospect of this actually happening after years.

Your walls throb and clench painfully but deliciously around nothing, still in pleasure from feeling him inside you and also from the anticipation.

And Aemond sensing your needs, especially ruining your orgasm, finally takes appropriate pity on you and begins to line up against your entrance.

For him this is a challenge, as you are tight, tighter than the last time the two of you shared a bed, so there is that excitement and anticipation you are giving him for allowing him this moment.

But before he enters you, he leans into you and whispers in your ear.

"Are you absolutely sure about this, love? This is the best time for you to stop me now."

You don't give him an answer right away, all you do, completely desperate and wanting to make your honest decision more than clear, you grab his cheek, turn him towards you and kiss him deeply.

He gasps into your mouth and responds immediately to the kiss, as you move your hips beneath him, causing your bud to rub against his hot, hard cock, causing relief.

"Yes, yes, absolutely sure," you say into his lips, kissing him again, "I'm yours, take me any way you want."

And there it is.

Aemond is no longer in any doubt.

Completely pleased and full of pleasure, he slowly sinks into you, inch by inch and not a sound comes out of your open mouth, you hear absolutely nothing either, only the ringing in your ears.

You don't even hear his panting and grunting, you don't focus on anything because your vision blurs for a moment.

Until he goes completely still, holding himself inside you without moving to allow you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck me," he moans, closing his eye in complete pleasure as he feels you squeeze all of him deliciously, just as he expected, "You're so tight and hot, baby."

He kisses you again, but you all you can feel is his huge cock buried in you. All of it.

It's been so long and it's perfect, more than perfect... there's just no feeling like it and you'd missed it.

"Are you okay?" he asks you tenderly, watching you intently beneath him.

"Yes," you murmur, breathing shakily.

You feel full.

Your bodies are one.

And then Aemond begins to penetrate you with slow, deep but urgent movements, rocking his hips against yours.

A sigh escapes your lips at the first movement and you cling to his shoulders, sinking your face between his chest and neck, moaning, as he gasps and with his free hand spreads your legs wider for him.

"Don't you ever make me wait to bury myself inside this pretty pussy again, did you hear me?" he says hoarsely in your ear, like a warning.

He moves his hips faster and deeper, as you try to respond, but your words are garbled and you don't process them in your brain.

"Words, baby."

"Yes," you finally manage to say, "God, Aemond, yes."

"That's what I like to hear. Good girl."

His words and his gun envelop you and flood you completely, a heady sensation as he takes you.

With each thrust, you moan and gasp, your legs locking around his torso to feel him deeper inside you and your hands grabbing his ass so you can pull him into you.

You rock against him, clenching around his big cock every time your skins met.

"That's it, baby. Just like that-fuck," Aemond's voice breaks off with a growl, from the intense sensations.

"Yes, yes," you moan in his ear, music to his ears, biting his shoulder lightly afterwards.

His hand moves up your stomach to your breast, pinching and massaging it as you gasp louder and he grunts, still penetrating you as he increases the speed.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he moans, moving slightly to get a better angle, "You feel so fucking good, baby."

You literally scream as he touches that special spot inside you with each thrust, making you temporarily see stars, moaning loudly without being able to help it, feeling so good.

And immediately Aemond's hand comes up to cover your mouth, silencing your sounds and also stopping the movement of his hips.

"I love hearing your every sound , but you have to be quiet, baby," he says condescendingly, "You don't want to wake our son, do you?"

He removes his hand when he sees you try to speak.

"Yes, I know, sorry," you say agitated, needing him to move inside you again.

"Keep your voice down, love," he says then kisses you.

And just as you both begin to move in perfect synchrony your mouths together, he again begins to move or rather roll his hips sensually, slowly and deeply, making you gasp into his mouth.

Slowly he begins to pick up the pace he had before and pulls his lips away from yours, kissing your neck as his hand again takes one of your breasts, moving down your collarbone until he takes in his mouth the nipple he is not giving attention to.

You arch against him and try not to moan too loudly, feeling so good and feeling that little flame again begin to ignite and grow inside you until it explodes.

"Fuck, Aemond. Deeper," you moan, one of your hands clenching the sheet tightly.

"I'm not going to last long the way you're squeezing me, baby," he growls.

Then he dangles your leg over his shoulder, creating a new angle for his thrusts and finally does as you ask, penetrating you deeper and harder.

"Oh God," you whimper, feeling a new intensity.

The head of his cock hits your soft spot as he thrusts in and out. And he leans into you, his skin glistening with sweat and seeing how beautiful you look beneath him.

"Would you give me another one?"

Completely filled with pleasure and feeling incoherent at how he's making you feel, you don't understand his words or what he's referring to, so he leans in to leave a kiss on your lips, wanting your attention.

"Another babe," he murmurs longingly, ramming you hard, "I wasn't there for my first son in his first few months because of my stupid decisions, but I'll do it properly this time."

You moan, rocking your hips against his, your whole face contracting in pleasure.

"Will you let me?" he murmurs with pleasure on your lips, caressing one of your breasts, "Will you let me get you pregnant, watch you get swollen with my child and these amazing milk-filled tits?"

You just nod, mind fuzzy to really understand but nod, wanting more, needing more, no matter what.

"Yes, yes, I will," you say completely drunk on pleasure, nodding quickly.

"We're going to be a real family, my sweet girl," he says sweetly against your lips, then leaves wet kisses on your neck.

You just nod again and after several more thrusts, you moan loudly again as he brings one of his hands down to caress your bud with his thumb.

And he quickly covers your mouth again with his free hand, not wanting to stop once more, not now, when he's taking you to the edge of the abyss as he keeps ramming your G-spot repeatedly and at the same time stroking it with his thumb.

And watching you like this, watching you take his cock so well, like you used to, is a pleasure he hasn't felt since the last time he did this with you, flooding him from head to toe.

Watching the woman he loves, her breasts swaying with each thrust, cheeks flushed and her eyes between wide watching him back, is for Aemond a sensation beyond intimacy.

"A-aemond," you moan, feeling yourself cumming.

He grunts, moving his thumb faster on your bud, panting and breathing hard, feeling his balls tighten.

"Come on, baby. I can't hold back much longer, come for me, I need you to cum first," he almost begs you, grunting, stroking your bud faster.

You feel a wave grow inside you, a powerful electricity, feeling every muscle in your body tense and your eyes close tightly, arching your back.

You moan highly at Aemond's name, your vision suddenly going blank, as the most intense orgasm of your life rips through you, as he continues to penetrate you faster and deeper.

His cock squeezes deliciously as he feels you squeeze him in that incredible way, fucking you through your orgasm, prolonging it and it feels so good.

Your walls crisscross around him, sucking him in as he grunts loudly, calling your name as he penetrates you, his cock throbbing harder and harder and moving inside you with more uncontrolled movements.

And finally, he comes.

You could swear you're left watching stars behind your eyes, as you feel all of his hot seed fill your insides and Aemond continues to move his hips very slowly inside you, grunting as you feel all of him fill you completely.

"Ohhh-fuck," he sighs, throwing his head back, his eye tightening and his brows furrowed, cheeks flushed.

His hot seed floods your womb and it was so much that it began to drip out of you.

Your legs lose strength, as does your whole body and you lie slumped on the bed, filled to the brim with Aemond's semen, with that gratifying feeling between your legs and trying to catch your breath.

Aemond slowly and carefully pulls his cock out of you with a hiss, making you shudder a little, then leans into you, leaves comforting kisses on your cheek and collapses beside you, also trying to catch his breath.

"Oh-shit," he sighs, pulling you closer to his body, hugging you, "Are you okay, baby?"

You just nod, as you snuggle into his chest, still shaken and completely overheated, so Aemond leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

"I'll clean you up in a second, okay?"

"Okay," you sigh, with your eyes closed and licking your lips.

His care gives you tenderness and with what little strength you manage to regain, you raise your gaze to him and leave a soft kiss on his lips which he instantly reciprocates, smiling softly against your lips.

But as soon as all the heat of the moment goes down, he can't help but feel unsure and worried.

"It's okay if you didn't mean what we said," he begins to tell you, "I understand it was all for the moment. And I won't expect anything after this if it's just a one-time thing for you."

The weight of his words hangs heavy in the air, filling the space between the two of you with a slight tension.

Also Aemond's anxiety is obvious, as if he is waiting for the world around him to crumble after what just happened, which foolishly only gave him hope.

But you with your gaze full of sincerity and affection, you run one of your hands over his face, gently removing the hair falling down his forehead.

"I meant it," you tell him in a soft voice, "What we said, what happened here...it wasn't just for the moment."

Her eye widens in surprise, her lips slightly parted as she absorbs your words.

A glimmer of hope shines in his gaze and his heart seems to lighten from an invisible weight.

"Really?" he whispers, her voice full of longing and relief.

You nod with a reassuring little smile, and before he can say anything else, you lean into him and kiss him tenderly, sealing your words with a gesture of affection and commitment.

The sunset gently caresses your face and Aemond's as you both sit together on a blanket in the huge garden of your house, sharing laughter and conversation while enjoying the food and the beautiful scenery that surrounded you.

You suddenly had the idea of wanting to have a picnic in the garden of your house and Aemond was not opposed to the idea.

You both talk about everything and nothing, immersing yourselves in each other's company and the tranquility of the moment, with the bushes, the colorful flowers and the green lawn.

Aemond smiles, watching you fondly, feeling grateful to have you by his side, while you are beaming, happy to be here with him, sharing this intimate and special moment.

And honestly, Aemond doesn't quite understand why you decided to give him this second chance.

In his mind, he relives these last few days, wondering over and over again what exactly has changed in you that made you decide to trust him again. Of course he feels grateful and very lucky, but he can't help but wonder.

And honestly you're not entirely clear either.

After everything you went through on your own, after you had to carry most of the weight on your shoulders in the beginning and you had to fight against almost everything to be able to support yourself and your child... then everything got better and better.

You don't have a clear answer, but something about the way he has gone out of his way so far to show his remorse and genuine desire to make things right gave you hope.

Aenar is completely happy when he is with him and really a father figure was never lacking.

These early years for Aenar are very important and your reunion with Aemond happened at the ideal time for Aenar to have that father and son relationship with him.

Aemond takes your hand tenderly and delicately, intertwining his fingers with yours as he looks at you lovingly.

"I don't want anything else, just you and Aenar," he tells you with a small smile, vulnerable but sincere, "I couldn't imagine a better place than being here with you."

You smile back at him, feeling a warm tingle in your chest at his words.

You move closer towards him and gently caress his cheek, bringing your forehead together with his, letting the peace and tranquility of the pleasant moment envelop you.

"I know I never told you before because I wasn't sure if I felt it anymore," you begin to say in a soft voice and Aemond listens to you carefully, "But I love you too."

Aemond smiles softly and he swear he feel his eye begin to water, unable to help it.

And without wasting a second, he leans into you and captures your lips in a soft, passionate kiss, causing you both to lose yourselves in the moment, enveloped in the warmth of your love for each other.

"I love you," he murmurs once again against your lips, watching you and holding you in his arms adoringly.

Again he kisses you again, sweetly, softly and with deep feeling and after a while, they continued to embrace, enjoying each other's closeness.

And together they kept talking, laughing and caressing each other, because it is the moment of peace and happiness for both of them, finally after a long time.

Aemond had been feeling the pressure of his work lately. The constant demand of rehearsals, recordings and events was draining him physically and emotionally.

And after much reflection, he decided to take a temporary break from his career so he could devote more time to his family and himself.

When he shared the news with his family, he expected some resistance or concern, but instead, he received overwhelming support.

His mother and siblings supported him in his bravery in making that decision, as well as expressed their joy at having him more present in their lives, just as you did when he told you about his decision.

His family was also very happy for him and for you when Aemond shared with them the news that the two of you are trying again, Aegon most of all was very proud.

And that evening in the garden, while enjoying the picnic with you, he hears a familiar little voice that instantly makes him smile and fills him with joy.

"Daddy!"

Aenar exclaims, running to them with open arms and a huge smile, with Aunt Helaena running after him, telling them that the little boy missed his parents.

Aenar throws himself into his arms and you laugh, leaving a soft kiss on his forehead, while Aemond hugs him and leaves repeated kisses on his cheek, making him laugh.

Both he and you feel a deep sense of gratitude and happiness.

And in that moment, surrounded by love and laughter in the garden, Aemond feels complete and at peace, with his little family.

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