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edenesth · 2 months

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TWTHH Spinoff: Stitched Hearts [1]

Pairing: dressmaker!Hongjoong x noblewoman!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: Throughout his entire career, Hongjoong has received nothing but praise for his work. Never once had anyone suggested his dresses were anything short of perfection. That is, until he met the youngest daughter of the Baek household—the family's black sheep, an enigmatic spinster whom he found utterly confounding.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"Father, mother, we're back!" called out Haeun, your eldest sister who had been married for years now, returning home with her husband and children to celebrate the birth of your middle brother's first child.

"You're home, our dear daughter!" Your parents enthusiastically rose from their seats to greet her, showering her with praise for leading such a successful life, whatever that meant; it was a concept you still struggled to comprehend to this day.

After exchanging pleasantries with your parents, she made a beeline for your brother, completely disregarding your timid presence in the corner of the room, "Hajoon-ah, congratulations, my brother! It's high time you joined the parent club!"

Your brother-in-law, displaying a touch more consideration than his wife, offered you a warm smile before joining 'the adults' in conversation, leaving you to quietly observe your nieces and nephews playing joyfully in the courtyard. At times, you were envious of the simplicity of children's lives—so carefree, with no expectations weighing them down. Unlike them, you felt constantly burdened by the expectations placed upon you.

This had been the pattern for as long as you could recall—living in the shadows of your successful sister and brother, both excelling in nearly every aspect of life. Haeun, intelligent and outgoing, had swiftly found a suitable match upon reaching marriageable age, becoming the epitome of a perfect daughter in your parents' eyes. Hajoon wasn't far behind, securing a position in the local government and dutifully marrying the girl your parents had chosen for him.

And then there was you.

The black sheep of the Baek household, the peculiar one, always kept to yourself, showing little interest in feminine pursuits such as cooking, gardening, embroidering, or any similar activities. Your days were spent predominantly at home, frequenting your father's extensive library and immersing yourself in the countless storybooks it housed, often seeking solace in the realms of fantasy they offered. Your lack of enthusiasm for conventional interests rendered you an enigma even to your parents.

You maintained scant friendships, lacking any love interests or potential marriage prospects. Unlike other young women, you harboured no desire to adorn yourself or enhance your appearance; you appeared strangely content in your plain white hanboks and minimal hair accessories. Your demeanour led most people to forget the existence of a third daughter in the Baek family altogether. Those who did recall you were hesitant to consider you as a potential match for their sons, and the young men themselves showed no interest.

While your parents had initially held onto hope that you would eventually find your own path to settling down, their concerns began to mount as you surpassed the ideal age for marriage. Beyond mere age considerations, most young women your age were already married with children, leaving you perpetually single.

Though you concealed it well, you weren't oblivious to the whispers and rumours circulating about you already being labelled a spinster. The servants of your family estate often used you as a topic for gossip and entertainment, speculating whether you would ever find a spouse and placing bets on your marital prospects.

Finally deciding to acknowledge your presence, Haeun heaved a sigh before addressing you, "And how have you been, maknae? Will I be hearing news of you getting hitched any time soon?"

Glancing at her, you simply shrugged and shook your head, "Same old, unnie. And no, I don't think you will."

Hajoon frowned in resignation at your customary bluntness, "With that attitude, definitely not. Do you even have any intention of settling down? What are your plans for the future, hm? Are you going to keep causing our parents to worry like this?"

Your mother shook her head, silently urging him to be gentler with you, a twinge of sympathy stirring within her. In your younger years, her favouritism was evident in the way she showered attention primarily to your sister and brother, especially since your father was often away for work. While your siblings made efforts to bond with him during his brief returns, you showed little interest. Consequently, your relationship with your parents wasn't as close-knit as theirs.

It wasn't until Haeun had married and left home that your mother attempted to show you some affection, though by then, it seemed too late to truly connect with you. Despite her earnest efforts, she struggled to understand you. The rest of the family faced similar difficulties. You remained a mystery to everyone, always lost in your own world.

For once, instead of reacting with anger or responding passive-aggressively out of frustration, your sister nodded slowly, as if making a concerted effort to remain patient with you. Despite her occasional harshness towards you, she hadn't always been unkind. As your only elder sister, she had tried to foster a bond with you throughout your childhood, but your reserved nature made it difficult, and your straightforwardness often unintentionally wounded her.

Deep down, she harboured a hope that her harshness might somehow elicit some sort of response from you. But by now, she had come to realise its futility, as you consistently maintained an unbothered demeanour, regardless of what others would say or do to you. Ultimately, she grew tired of attempting to decipher your mind and heart. The same goes for your brother.

However, despite their frustrations, you were still their youngest sibling, and they sincerely hoped that you would one day settle down, have someone care for you, and perhaps start a family of your own.

"I think I know what might help," Haeun began, capturing everyone's attention before continuing, "I've heard about a renowned dressmaker in town who has worked wonders for countless women. If I'm not mistaken, his craftsmanship has even garnered recognition from the King and Queen. I was just thinking... maybe all our youngest needs is just a little makeover?"

Your father's eyes widened in astonishment, "His work is recognised even by His and Her Majesty, you say?"

Haeun nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, father! I couldn't believe it myself, but it's true. He's the mastermind behind Lady Park's stunning white and gold wedding hanbok!"

"He must be truly exceptional! Well, then, it seems worth a try. Perhaps this is just what our youngest needs to catch the eye of a potential suitor," your mother chimed in, her gaze hopeful as she turned to you, "Are you on board with the idea, dear?"

All eyes swivelled to you, and you once again felt yourself shrinking under their scrutiny—this familiar sensation of never being enough for them. The truth was evident: they were all tired of you. You had been a disappointment your entire life. If all they desired was for you to marry and depart from the household, perhaps it would be best to acquiesce to their wishes. It wouldn't hurt to entertain their request.

With another indifferent shrug, you replied, "Sure, if that's what everyone wants. After all, I don't have much to lose."

For the first time in forever, your family's faces lit up with smiles because of you, cheered by your response. As you retreated to your quarters that night, your sister eagerly taking charge of contacting the renowned dressmaker they had discussed, you pondered whether their enthusiasm stemmed from a desire to see you gone.

In truth, your parents' neglect and blatant favouritism toward your siblings over you during your childhood had moulded you into someone who wore indifference as armour, a coping mechanism to shield yourself from the constant sadness you felt. The weight of constantly letting everyone down had driven you to suppress your emotions, opting instead to feign apathy. Eventually, this façade became your reality; it felt safer to shut yourself off from feeling anything at all.

As you attempted to drift off to sleep that night, thoughts of the acclaimed dressmaker they had been praising occupied your mind. You couldn't help but entertain the idea that, like everyone else, he too would eventually grow weary of you. Surely, upon seeing you, he would deem you a lost cause.

Heh, at least he'll be paid to deal with me.

"Thanks a bunch, hyung. I promise I'll treat you to the finest meal once this is over!" Wooyoung exclaimed, hugging the disguise crafted by the dressmaker at the eleventh hour for his latest case—more like a mission to play knight in shining armour, one that might finally win him the affections of a girl, unlike the silly crush he harboured for Lady Park, leading absolutely nowhere.

With a shake of his head, Hongjoong gave the younger man's shoulder a reassuring pat, "Yeah, you better. Off you go then, you don't want to keep her waiting a moment longer now, do you?"

"Yes, sir!" The private investigator saluted playfully before setting off in pursuit of his new dream girl.

Once he was out of sight, the dressmaker returned to his shop, settling comfortably back into his seat, ready to resume work on his latest batch of orders. His fingers moved with practised ease, guided by the rough design sketch before him. A faint smile lingered on his lips as he worked, a swell of pride warming his chest at his friend's development. It wasn't just Wooyoung; everyone had left the general's estate weeks ago, returning to their own lives. While part of him missed the chaos of their shared moments, he was content to give the newlyweds their well-deserved privacy.

Still chuckling to himself, he reflected on the fact that the once-intimidating Park Seonghwa was now but a lovesick fool. He had once worried about the general's prospects for finding love, but now he realised it had been a needless concern. Who would have thought that General Park would find love before him, or even before the ever-charming Jung Yunho?

As he put the final touches on one of his dresses, he couldn't help but wonder how the couple was doing. It had been weeks since he last saw them, and he shook his head when he recalled how 'excited' his friend had been, even when he was injured. Now that they had all the time in the world together, he imagined Seonghwa would struggle to keep his hands off his wife. He pondered whether he would soon hear news of a new addition to their family.

Before he could become further engrossed in his thoughts, his sharp senses alerted him to the presence of a man and a woman entering his shop. Without hesitation, he plastered on his best business smile—a façade rarely seen by his friends, perhaps except for Lady Park. It was part of his practised persona, an outwardly amiable demeanour he employed to win over customers and potential clients, doing whatever was necessary to secure their business. This isn't to say he wasn't genuinely pleased, but his true passion lay in designing and dressmaking rather than customer service. Unfortunately, the latter was an essential aspect of his job.

Hongjoong had never been naturally a people person, but as he had previously made it clear to the general, he was reluctant to hire assistance for such a simple task. So here he was, stuck with doing his least favourite part of the job: greeting customers.

"Good day, sir and ma'am! Welcome to Kim's Dress Shop. May I inquire what you are searching for today? A hanbok for a special occasion, perhaps? That happens to be one of my specialities. However, if you're seeking an upgrade in everyday attire, I also offer a selection of simpler yet elegant designs," he recited, sticking to his customary script upon each patron's arrival.

The couple glanced around in amazement before eagerly beaming at him. The woman spoke, "Um, are you the renowned dressmaker Kim who crafted Lady Park's famous wedding gown?"

Grinning proudly, the dressmaker was pleased to once again be acknowledged for his recent accomplishments, "Indeed, that would be me," he confirmed. He couldn't deny that his orders had doubled since news of the iconic hanbok he had designed for his friend's wedding had spread. Perhaps he owed Seonghwa a debt of gratitude for hiring him. Without him, Hongjoong might not have achieved the level of success he enjoys today.

Stepping forward, the woman bowed respectfully, "It's truly an honour to meet you, Mr. Kim! You see, we are interested in engaging your services, but it's not for myself—it's for my younger sister."

"Oh? Will she be coming by soon for me to take her measurements and discuss her design preferences?" he inquired, surprised that the intended recipient of his hanboks was not present.

Shaking her head sheepishly, she clarified, "Unfortunately not. Forgive me for not starting with a self-introduction. Good day, Mr. Kim. I am the eldest daughter of the Baek household, and I'm here on behalf of our youngest."

Upon hearing this, Hongjoong immediately grasped the situation. Having worked extensively with noblewomen, he was well-versed in local gossip about nearby noble families. He had heard of the mysterious third daughter of Official Baek from the local Civilian Office, who rarely ventured outside her home—a well-known wallflower who, if he wasn't mistaken, remained unmarried despite being well past the ideal marriageable age.

With a nod, he smiled warmly, "Ah, Miss Baek! Or should I say, Mrs. Heo," the dressmaker corrected with a grin directed at the man beside her, presumably her husband, "It would be my pleasure to create hanboks for the youngest miss of such a prominent family. I assume that means I will need to visit the Baek estate to meet her."

The couple nodded with a slight grimace, "Yes, I'm sure you're aware of her reputation. Whatever rumours you may have heard are true. She remains single, and our entire family is deeply concerned for her. We've heard of the wonderful work you've done for others, and we were hopeful you could work your magic on her. My sister has always been a unique individual. I apologise for the inconvenience of asking you to leave your shop just for her. However, I assure you we will compensate you for any inconvenience."

As he listened to her plea, the dressmaker's mind raced with excitement. That was because no challenge was too daunting for him; he thrived on the opportunity to showcase his talent. The woman was right in what she said; he had indeed helped numerous single young women find matches after they had worn his designs.

This time would be no different.

What truly fueled his enthusiasm was the knowledge that the youngest Miss Baek was known to repel potential suitors, making her a particularly challenging case. If he could help her in finding a match, it would undoubtedly bolster his reputation, adding another significant achievement to his already impressive portfolio.

Moreover, the Baeks were one of the wealthiest noble families in the area. It would be foolish not to accept this job, even if it meant temporarily closing his shop more frequently to visit their estate. He was certain that the compensation he would receive for his services would more than make up for any inconvenience.

With a feigned understanding expression, he nodded, "Oh, please don't worry about it, Mrs. Heo. Nothing brings me greater joy than helping young women gain confidence and find love. Miss Baek clearly needs my assistance. If it means I can help one more woman escape singledom, any inconvenience will be worth it."

The couple cooed at his kindness, profusely thanking him for his selflessness, while he celebrated internally, eager for the opportunity to make that buck. Reassuringly, he welcomed them into his shop, offering them seats and some tea as they made the necessary arrangements for the special job: determining which days he would need to close his shop and visit the Baek estate as well as negotiating the payment. Fortunately for him, they had even provided a down payment to demonstrate their sincerity.

After a lengthy discussion that may or may not have interfered with his current orders, Hongjoong happily bid the couple goodbye. He couldn't care less about any disruptions; his pockets were full, and he was content. With the success of the business that Seonghwa had brought him, he was sure that this would be his next most satisfying endeavour. As he watched the couple leave, a sense of anticipation washed over him, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Thank you, Miss Baek, for this wonderful opportunity. I'm certain we'll get along just fine, you and I. Gosh, I just love it when rich people are gullible, and money is easy to make," he muttered to himself, brimming with excitement for what lay ahead.

Oh, I'm going to have the time of my life.

Perhaps the dressmaker might have spoken too soon, been a tad overconfident in his abilities, and underestimated the true enigmatic nature of the youngest Miss Baek. He would soon discover this the hard way during his very first visit to the family's estate, which was nearly as large as the general's, albeit slightly smaller.

He remained confident and pleased as he was warmly welcomed, not only by the couple he had met at his shop the other day, but also by Official Baek and his wife, Lady Baek, along with their middle son and his new wife—everyone except for the one he was hired to make clothes for. The youngest Miss Baek was nowhere to be seen.

Nevertheless, he refused to let it dampen his spirits. If anything, it only heightened his curiosity about you. He was eager to finally lay eyes on the girl whom so many noble families and men tried to avoid.

The more your family emphasised how hopeless you were and expressed their concern about you remaining a spinster, the more determined he became. His fingers were itching to work another miracle. No ugly duckling could remain ugly forever, especially not if he could help it.

"We're terribly sorry our youngest is not here to greet you, Mr. Kim! We specifically informed her that you would be arriving by this time. She must still be holed up in her father's library. We'll fetch her immediately!" Lady Baek exclaimed, her urgency and embarrassment evident in her tone.

Hongjoong shook his head, waving his hands to signal that it was fine, despite feeling a slight disbelief at your apparent disregard for his presence. He tried his best to play the role of a considerate man, reminding himself that it was your family who wanted him here, not you. He tried to be understanding of how you might be feeling, "It's quite alright. Perhaps I could go meet her in the library if she doesn't want to come outside."

"Oh, is that really alright? You've come all this way, Mr. Kim. The least she could do now is come to you and make your job easier," Official Baek remarked with a slight wince.

"I assure you, it's perfectly fine. My task today is simply to take Miss Baek's measurements and discuss her design preferences. For that to happen smoothly, it's important she feels comfortable. Conducting it in her own space might be the best approach for all of us," he responded.

Your brother nodded, "If you insist, Mr. Kim. We'll have the maids escort you there. Let us know if there's anything you need."

Hongjoong bowed, "Thank you, sir. I will."

"We entrust her to you, Mr. Kim," said your sister, her hands clasped together to show her gratitude and hopefulness.

"Please do not worry, Mrs. Heo. I have a feeling Miss Baek will find love in no time."

"We're counting on it."

As a few maids escorted him towards the library as instructed, the dressmaker's mind buzzed with speculative thoughts. Considering all the talk about Miss Baek's perpetual singleness, he couldn't help but imagine you to be hideous. If that were indeed the case, he surmised it might stem from low self-esteem.

Throughout his career, he has developed a knack for identifying his customers' underlying issues. Just as he had done with Seonghwa's wife, he could often discern precisely what they needed, whether it be a boost in confidence or a transformation in appearance. He was almost certain he'd be able to figure you out in an instant.

Upon arriving at the destination, one of the maids spoke up, "We're here, Mr. Kim. You should be able to find the young miss somewhere inside. Just call out to any of us if you require anything at all."

Hongjoong nodded, expressing his gratitude, "Of course, thank you," he replied before heading inside. His heart quickened for some reason as he stepped into the room, uncertain of what to expect.

Taking a cautious step after gently closing the door behind him, he called out softly, as if afraid of disturbing the tranquil atmosphere of the silent and peaceful library, "Miss Baek...? Sorry for the intrusion, but this is Kim Hongjoong, the dressmaker your family hired to provide you with a new wardrobe. If you would be so kind as to come out, we could proceed with the initial stages of the dressmaking process for you."

Releasing a small sigh at the continued silence, he called out again, "Miss Baek...? If you won't respond, I'll have to enter."

While he understood your potential shyness, he struggled to contain his displeasure at what felt like disrespect towards him. After all, he had made the effort to come all this way and even prioritised your comfort. Yet here you were, still playing hard to get.

"Very well, don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, he began to make his way down the aisle, scanning the spacious room from left to right in search of you. It was only when he was about to pass by a hunched figure between the rows of tall bookshelves that he halted, doing a double take before fixing his gaze squarely on your form. There you were, seated on the ground, completely absorbed in the book you held in your hands.

Whatever he had anticipated, you were none of that. The girl in front of him was nothing like what he had imagined. Bathed in the sunlight streaming through the open window, your delicate and refined features were illuminated, accentuating your natural beauty. In that moment, you appeared almost ethereal. With such looks, finding a match shouldn't be a challenge at all.

Huh, guess I was wrong about her looks.

Yet, it wasn't your appearance that posed the issue. He had expected as much, considering the attractiveness of your family members. However, he could understand why you were often overlooked. The problem lay not in your physical attributes, but rather in that god-awful attire you chose to wear – a plain, white hanbok devoid of any embellishments. Furthermore, you seemed to lack hair accessories and makeup. He dared say that even some of the maids had put more effort into their appearance than you had.

Goodness gracious, you looked like a prisoner in that outfit. In his opinion, you ought to be arrested for donning such a monstrosity. Perhaps you weren't aware yet, but today you would be encountering the fashion police, and he was not pleased with what he saw. It was evident to him that you were in dire need of his assistance.

Kim Hongjoong was here now, and he intended to effect swift change. By the end of his makeover, he was confident you would be fit to enter even a beauty pageant.

"Hello, Miss Baek," he greeted, finally drawing your attention as you glanced up to see him approaching.

"Oh, you're here. Mr. Kim, right?" you responded, acknowledging him with a nod. Folding the edge of the page as a makeshift bookmark, you carefully slid the book back into its place on the shelf before rising from your spot on the ground.

The dressmaker's grip tightened around his bag of tools, a hint of displeasure flickering behind his façade of a smile, "Yes, that's correct, my lady. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard much about you," he attempted to charm you, a tactic that typically worked wonders with his clientele, eliciting blushes and smiles. However, his heart sank as you remained unfazed.

"Did you really? I can't imagine it's anything favourable," you murmured, turning to face him squarely, "And there's no need for pretence. I highly doubt there's anything pleasurable about meeting me. I prefer unvarnished truths to false pleasantries."

What in the world.

Taken aback by your bluntness, he paused briefly to compose himself before clearing his throat, "Ah, I see... If you insist, Miss Baek, I won't sugarcoat my thoughts on your choice of attire. Your family has expressed concerns about your ability to attract suitors, and I can see why. It's pretty clear to me that you struggle with dressing in a way that appeals to others but fear not. I'm here now, and I'll help you enhance your style."

Just when he thought you couldn't possibly surprise him any further, you shrugged in disagreement, "I don't believe I'm struggling at all. I know exactly what I like, and this is it," you gestured to your hanbok, "It's not my fault nobody shares the same opinion."

Baffled by your words, he finally grasped the true extent of your problem. Yes, your fashion style was the main issue, but more crucially, it was your entire character. Throughout his life, the dressmaker had encountered his fair share of eccentric individuals, but you seemed to easily surpass them all in peculiarity.

Your blunt honesty was one thing, but it was your overall lack of emotion or ability to read social cues that truly puzzled him. Perhaps it was simply your indifference. Regardless, one thing became abundantly clear to him: he did not like you. Despite having only just met you, he eagerly anticipated the moment he could leave your presence.

Lord help me, I cannot stand her already.

Blinking rapidly, he struggled to maintain the smile on his face as he responded stiffly, "I... I understand, Miss Baek. Perhaps that's your belief for now. However, I'm confident you'll change your mind once you see my designs. They never disappoint. I've never had a dissatisfied customer, and I fully intend to keep it that way."

Not wanting to dwell on your comments, he quickly clapped his hands together and continued, "Now, without further ado, let's proceed with taking your measurements."

Forget discussing your preferences, you had made your stance clear. But Hongjoong remained determined to impress you with his work. He was eager to unveil his best design, he couldn't wait to see the look on your face when you would realise how stupid you were to prefer prison clothes over his hanboks.

Retrieving his measuring tape and notebook from his bag, he turned to you, making an effort to conceal any hint of displeasure on his face as he approached, "Stay still, my lady. This will only take a moment," he instructed, beginning with your shoulders before proceeding to measure your height, sleeve length, and neck size. His breath caught and his hands trembled as he reached the final step, assessing your waist and chest measurements.

While he typically performed these tasks with ease, it was usually in the familiar surroundings of his shop, with others present. Now, it was just the two of you in the expansive, quiet library. For some reason, the atmosphere felt almost... intimate.

Focus, Kim Hongjoong!

Suppressing the sudden spike of his heartbeat, he maintained a composed expression and directed, "Please raise your arms, my lady. I'll need to measure your chest and waist next."

Flustered, he attributed the fluttering of his heart to the persistent, unabashed curiosity in your gaze throughout the measurement process. That must be it, he reasoned. You didn't possess goddess-like beauty, nor were you sweet as an angel. There was no other reason for him to react that way than sheer embarrassment under your scrutiny.

Little did he know, you experienced similar, if not more intense, emotions than he did. But who could blame you, really? It was the first time a man had ever been in such close proximity to you. The only difference between you was your adeptness at concealing your feelings, contrasting with the subtle shifts in his demeanour and the slight tremor in his hands, which did not evade your perceptive gaze.

He was merely a man, after all. You supposed it was only natural for him to exhibit such reactions in the presence of a woman.

But that didn't mean much.

You could tell he disliked you, a sentiment you had grown used to. Like everyone else you met, it seemed no one genuinely liked you. Your family's acceptance stemmed from obligation, your servants' compliance from their employment, and Hongjoong's engagement from his professional duty. Once that was done, you were certain you would never see him again. Armed with this notion, you maintained your stoic façade.

"Very well, Miss Baek. Thank you for your cooperation. I'll return when the first batch of your hanboks is ready," the dressmaker stated, swiftly gathering his belongings and offering one final bow before hurrying out of the library, pink tinting his cheeks.

"Goodbye, Mr. Kim."

Back at his shop that evening, he struggled to focus on his work. His thoughts kept wandering back to the moment your faces were inches apart, when he had to briefly encircle his arms around your waist to take measurements. Despite the unattractive hanbok you wore, he couldn't deny that you smelled quite pleasant. At the very least, you had good hygiene, he had to give you that.

Get a grip, you fool!

Giving himself a sharp slap on the cheek, he shook off the distraction. He reminded himself of the sheer frustration of being around you. From your perplexing bluntness to your questionable taste in fashion, it was enough to raise his blood pressure. How could someone like you even exist? He realised now that he had vastly underestimated your peculiar nature. Once confident he could see through anyone, he was beginning to have second thoughts.

Nevertheless, one thing remained certain: you would surely admire the designs he had in store for you. His work had always been his stronghold, never failing to impress. If even royalty had been impressed, why wouldn't a mere noblewoman like yourself? You claimed to dislike fashion, but that was only because you hadn't seen his masterpieces, he was sure of it.

No one, no one could ever resist his work.

Determined to swiftly overcome this minor obstacle, he reassured himself that you were just a small hurdle on the path to another remarkable achievement. In the end, when you were basking in the glory of the century's most sensational makeover, all the effort would be worthwhile. He could not wait for you to shed tears of gratitude, thanking him for opening your eyes to the true essence of beauty. With that conviction, he delved into his work, flipping through his sketchbook until he reached the section reserved for his finest designs, carefully curated for an occasion like this.

Pausing at one of his personal favorites, a masterpiece he had been saving for a worthy client, he decided that now was the perfect opportunity to bring it to life.

Oh, you were sure to adore it.

You had to.

But he should have known better than to actually believe that. He was, once again, in for a surprise a few days later when he arrived at the Baek estate with the first hanbok done. Only once he had your green light would he be able to proceed with making more for you. As the maids escorted him to your quarters, they noted his bright demeanour; you had risen late today and were still having breakfast in solitude, "You seem quite cheerful today, Mr. Kim," one remarked, arching an eyebrow.

He smirked confidently, "Indeed, I am. Your young miss will be very impressed with what she is about to see today. With this makeover, she'll surely catch the eye of potential suitors in no time."

The maid hesitated, cautioning, "I'm not sure you should be so certain. The young miss isn't like any other girl you've worked with."

"Ah, I know, but my work speaks for itself," he retorted, "She'd be silly not to like it."

"If you say so, sir," the maid replied, her tone conceding defeat. She knew better than to doubt his skill, but she also understood that you were unlike any other. He would soon discover that firsthand, and she was almost certain he wouldn't leave the estate with the same confidence he arrived with.

"Well, what do you think?" inquired the dressmaker, proudly unveiling his newest masterpiece to his latest customer.

Eyeing the elegantly colourful hanbok, which was a departure from your usual plain white ones, your gaze remained impassive. After what seemed like an eternity, you responded with a slight furrow of your brows, "It uhh... it looks nice, I suppose."

As you watched Hongjoong's reaction falter momentarily, it appeared as though he was experiencing a million emotions per second before settling on a deeply offended expression. With an audible scoff, he clenched his jaw, "Nice, you say? Just... nice? You suppose? Miss Baek, that is utterly outrageous! Throughout my career, I've only ever been praised for delivering perfection."

You stayed silent as he continued to extol his successes, boasting about being the best dressmaker in all of Joseon and citing his most illustrious achievements, such as the wedding dress he crafted for Lady Park, which even impressed Their Majesties. It dawned on you that your simple response had deeply wounded him.

"I-I mean... it's not bad," you interjected, hoping to fix the damage, but your heart sank as he only glared at you, "Not bad...? I'm sorry, was that supposed to console me?" he chuckled incredulously, "You know what? Now I understand why you're still single. At this rate, you'll never find a husband."

Ouch.

The awkward silence that followed was deafening, causing the maids who were waiting in your room to quickly shuffle closer to you, noticing you had finished your meal, "Young miss, we'll just be clearing this up and excusing ourselves."

"Thank you." You nodded curtly, watching emotionlessly as they hastily picked up the table containing the empty plates and bowls and left with a deep bow. Meanwhile, the dressmaker remained in his spot, visibly heaving deep breaths as if trying to calm himself from the outburst, before carefully setting the hanbok down.

After you were left alone, he took a deep breath before apologising, "Gosh, I— I'm so sorry, Miss Baek. That was uncalled for, I—"

Shaking your head, you cut him off, "No, please don't be. You were merely telling the truth. As I've said, I prefer unvarnished truth to false pleasantries. In fact, I believe you are right about that. You are not the first to say that, and you certainly won't be the last."

As he absorbed your words, a wave of discomfort washed over Hongjoong. For some reason, he would have preferred if you had yelled at him or thrown a tantrum rather than accepting his insults like that. Surely, it couldn't feel pleasant to hear such remarks, no matter how unaffected you made yourself appear. It made him feel terrible, and he hated it — hated the guilt that filled him for uttering such words.

Clearing his throat, he sighed, "I... my lady, please don't say that. It's just that... I really need your approval before I make more of these for you. At the end of the day, you are the one who has to wear them." His voice softened, an attempt to make up for his earlier harshness.

You detected the familiar pity in his tone, and you despised it. Raising a brow, you shrugged, "Why does my approval matter? It's my family who's paying you, not me. You owe it to them to make me look perfect, whatever that means. I've made it clear what I like, and if it's not to yours or anyone's taste, so be it. I see no point in consulting me on your designs, Mr. Kim. Just do what you're hired for; it doesn't matter what I like."

It never has.

While that should have brought relief to the dressmaker, knowing he had the freedom to pursue his vision without worrying about your approval, something about your words left him feeling... melancholic. It struck a chord within him, reminding him of his own struggles when he initially embarked on his fashion career. At that time, it was met with disapproval from society, which deemed it an unfitting profession for a man. Despite the opposition, he chose to be himself.

However, seeing you succumb to societal expectations, suppressing your true self to please others, including him, stirred a sense of empathy within him. It mirrored his own past battles with conformity. Unlike him, you were forced to adhere to societal norms, sacrificing your individuality for the sake of others' expectations.

And he didn't like that.

But what he hated even more was how you managed to evoke emotions he hadn't signed up for. Despite his efforts to push thoughts of you aside and concentrate solely on his goal—to craft the finest hanboks in all of Joseon and transform you into a vision of beauty, one you did not desire—the memory of your somewhat disheartening expression, as you dismissed the importance of your preferences, lingered in his mind. It unsettled him, he hated the way it was causing an uncomfortable tightening in his chest.

« Preview of Part 2 »

"I'm telling you, Yunho, she's infuriating!"

The physician, busy tidying his clinic counter, rolled his eyes, "How could I not know, hyung? You've been talking about her since my lunch break. We're almost at closing time; are you finished?"

Hongjoong crossed his arms, scoffing, "What, do you have somewhere else to be? Don't think I haven't noticed you've been going to that apothecary more often lately."

Yunho stilled, a faint pink dusting across his cheeks as he cleared his throat, "What do you mean? I've always gone there for herbs."

"Yes, but not as frequently as you do now. Ever since you met a certain herbalist," Hongjoong teased, wiggling his brows.

"If you have nothing important to say, please leave," the physician grumbled, tired of the older man's rambling.

Uncrossing his arms, the dressmaker said, "W-wait! Look, you're the most rational one among us. I just... wanted to know your thoughts on the matter."

Sighing, Yunho softened, "You know, she's right. You're hired by her family, your job is simple, and you know what you have to do. The only reason you're so affected by this is probably because you care."

"I do not care about her—"

"Sure, if you say so. Then go on ahead and complete your job. You'll receive your payment and all the benefits that come with it anyway. So, what's really bothering you?"

Oh my gosh, thank you so much for 1.6k followers! Same as Wooyoung's spinoff, the next part will be the second and final part. I've decided to standardise the format, so all the spinoffs will be two-shots.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/7): @itstheghostofmypast @huachengsbestie01 @minghaoslatina @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @the-kpop-simp @writingwieny @stayatinykatsy @skzline @green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive @vantediary @superbbananananana @kimyeolchan @chocolate-scoups @decadentstrangernacho @vic0921 @foxinnie8 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid @sansaurora9904 @darkestacademiamindsx12-blog @pay13 @kpop17 @professormingisglasses @newworldwritings @chicken-fifi @thunderous-wolf @shythinggiver @madnpan @yandere-stories @anxiousskylar @frobin4ever @starssongs98 @kamabokogonpachro @dollce-exe @jan-l @lovelyred2 @haven-cove @watermelon2319 @dreamingofyeo @akimkim @scuzmunkie @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @borntoshineateez @st4rhwa @ddaeing @tropicalsstuff @bts-army380 @skteezcursed @beauty143 @naps-over-degree @idfkeddieishot @sis-101 @lemon-sage17 @jcalicocatj

#edenesth #the way to his heart #stitched hearts #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #historical au #joseon era #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #ateez fic

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flowerandblood · 5 months

Text

The Fall from the Heavens

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: kissing, angst, arranged engagement, violence, swearing, humiliation, bullying, chauvinism ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He had always felt that he lacked something. Part of him claimed that if a dragon had hatched from his egg, things would have been different, however, years later, he recognised that this was not entirely true.

Aegon had a gift for light-hearted conversation, an ironic humour that he lacked. He kept telling him to smile at last, to get his nose out of his books, that he was boring, perpetually serious and withdrawn. He preferred to spend time with Jace and Luke − they were louder and funnier than him, they understood him, they had what he was missing.

They had dragons.

They didn't spare unpleasant comments even to their own sister, calling her a hamster, most likely referring to her rosy, firm cheeks and big eyes.

He could see that she was running away from them crying, but he wasn't going to comfort her. She was a girl – her world, filled with poetry, embroidery and music seemed to him as distant as Essos.

The only thing they had in common was books.

They bumped into each other occasionally in the library, and although at first they simply pretended not to see one another, one day she dared to sit next to him as he looked through the family tree of their ancestors.

"What is it?" She asked, placing the large volume on the table in front of them with difficulty.

He huffed as the dust that rose with her movement reached his nostrils, out of the corner of his eye he noticed that it was The Great History of Aegon the Conqueror.

He did not reply, turning the page of the book, not knowing why he should explain it to her.

He didn't believe her, didn't trust her, didn't want her.

She was a bastard, though she probably didn't know it herself, wallowing in riches like a princess even though she didn't deserve them.

He didn't want her pity, attention or anything else she could give him.

He didn't want to be her second choice, the place she ran to because her brothers were mean to her; he had his own, in his mind very adult, worries and he didn't want to listen to hers.

"Is this a book dedicated to our family history?" She asked softly, leaning out so that she could see what he was reading.

She stood up, coming closer to him, intrigued. He pressed his lips together when he smelled her pleasant scent, some intense vanilla oil.

He felt a tightening and burbling in his stomach at the thought of the cake that smelled similar, which his mother had ordered to be baked for his Name Day a few months earlier.

"Ah, our family tree. Where are we?" She asked cheerfully, and he sighed heavily, reluctantly flipping forward a few pages, tracing their line with his finger, showing her a place at the very end.

He swallowed loudly as he saw how Laenor Velaryon was written in the space where her father was inscribed, trying not to smile with mockery.

She leaned lower, looking at the area he had pointed at and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, her cheek right next to his.

He was surprised at how different they were, apart from the obvious fact that he was a man and she was a woman.

His eyelashes were almost white and translucent and hers were black, long, surrounding her shining eyes, making them seem even bigger to him. His skin was pale, thin as parchment when hers was flushed and full of life, her lips plump and moist, her nose shapely and straight, the contour of her face gentle as his jaw was outlined sharply.

And finally, his hair, the colour of Targaryen's, the white she lacked, her luscious black curls falling gently down her back was visible proof of who her father was.

Although he liked to mock her in spirit, he couldn't say she was ugly or repulsive.

"Would you marry Helaena if our King so commanded?" She asked curiously, glancing sideways at his seated figure. He lifted his gaze to her and sighed heavily, figuring that nothing would happen if he spoke to her for a while.

She was simply bored, just like him, and he didn't get the impression that she had come to entertain herself at his expense.

He shrugged his shoulders.

"Yes. I would do my duty as a Prince and son of the King." He said lowly, solemnly, fiddling between his fingers with the page of the book he had just looked at, crossing his legs.

Even though he was still a child, he was trying to sound and look like a man.

She cocked her head, clearly genuinely intrigued by his statement, a wide smile on her face.

"Are you in love with her?" She asked as if it was obvious, as if she was encouraging him to reveal to her his little secret. He looked at her in disbelief, not knowing what to make of her question.

He swallowed loudly, lowering his gaze, feeling his heart pounding fast.

What did it matter?

"Well…she's my sister. Of course I love her." He replied coolly, feeling strange with the words on his tongue, as if there was something inappropriate about them.

"I love Jace too, but I'm not in love with him. There's a difference." She said with a kind of calmness and wisdom that surprised him, looking at him with a gentle expression on her face that consternated him.

Why were they even having this conversation?

Still, her words made him feel a tightness in his throat, a realisation that he understood what she meant, but didn't want to admit it.

The tenderness of falling in love, the poems and the late-night frolicking were the domain of women's imagination, which unfortunately then had to collide with the cruel reality. He was a man, however, and he had no intention of getting into these deep divagations of the weaker sex.

"Don't be naïve. Marriage is not meant to be a pleasure. It is meant to be a sacrifice for the good of the kingdom, to secure its needs." He said dryly, turning back to the page he had been reading earlier, frustrated for some reason by her remark.

She did not speak again, returning to her seat, sinking into reading the gigantic volume dedicated to Aegon the Conqueror.

Although he could have done it in his chamber, he had been coming to the library to read ever since and always met her in the same place. Although they didn't appoint themselves, they both had their assignments until midday and would turn up there to read immediately afterwards, sitting next to each other, exchanging thoughts in passing.

He was afraid that Aegon would see them one day, but fortunately he never ventured into the abyss of the library, few people went there and he felt reasonably safe.

Usually it was she who asked him questions and he was the one who answered her. He felt some sort of empowerment because of this – at last there was someone who appreciated his knowledge and rhetoric, who listened intently to his opinion.

"I would like to be like Rhaenys in the future." She said softly and he looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Rhaenys? What's interesting about her? Visenya could fight with a sword and she rode the largest dragon still alive in this world. If I had a choice, I would marry her." He said without thinking, recognising that it would be wonderful to have by his side a woman who could wield a sword perfectly, with a sharp tongue and temperament, who would be a born warrior like him.

He saw his niece raise an eyebrow in amusement, a sort of childlike joy on her face, her eyes shining.

"Aegon the Conqueror thought otherwise. Out of ten nights, nine he spent with Rhaenys." She said mockingly, as if immensely pleased that she could take the argument out of his hand. He pressed his lips together at her remark and shrugged his shoulders, returning to his reading.

He didn't care what men and women did at night − his mother had told him that he shouldn't bother with it for the time being, and he had decided that there was in fact no need to, until his father called on him one morning.

"− no −" He heard his mother's voice, leaning over the table where the tired King sat, looking at her as if half asleep. "− I do not agree, Viserys, it's not −"

She did not finish, hearing his footsteps and folded her arms in front of her, trying to calm herself, letting out a loud breath. His father nodded at him to come closer, which he did obediently, feeling his heart pounding hard.

His father had never yet called on him on any serious matter.

"I have just been discussing with your mother the importance of our family, of our kingdom remaining united. Although I have agreed that, according to tradition, your sister should marry your brother and not your nephew, I would like you to be the one to bring House Targaryen together anew, and that you should marry the daughter of Rhaenyra and Laenor in the future." He said calmly, with each finished sentence tapping his fingers on the table top, as if to add some finality and certainty to his words that he was convinced this was the right thing to do.

"− this is ridiculous − Aemond should secure our kingdom with a marriage to the daughter of one of the lords who can benefit us −" His mother began impatiently, her husband sighed loudly, exhausted.

"And who should receive this honour? The Starks? The Arryns? The Baratheons? No choice would be good, for someone would always feel disadvantaged. Marriage within the family will not outrage anyone on the outside, and will only strengthen what has been strained." He said with conviction; the Queen swallowed hard, shaking her head, finally looking at him as if she was certain he abhorred the idea as much as she did.

"− Aemond, you don't have to agree −" She said in a trembling voice, and he swallowed hard, looking at the stone floor beneath his feet, feeling his heart pounding hard.

Bastard or not, the dragon's blood flowed in her, as it did in him. She didn't despise or mistreat him. She knew what duty and obligation meant.

He reasoned that although he would have preferred to have a female warrior by his side, in fact the idea of marrying her did not reject him. He preferred her to the daughter of some common lord.

In his own way, he even liked her.

He grunted, feeling proud to rise to the occasion and fulfil his father's desire.

"If it is my King's wish, I will marry her, for the sake of the kingdom and our family." He said lowly, looking him straight in the eyes, standing upright, his hands folded behind his back.

He felt a squeeze in his throat as his father smiled at him sincerely, for the first and last time in his life.

"So it's decided."

He didn't know how the message had been conveyed to his betrothed, however he could see by the look on her face as she ran into the library, all red with emotion, that someone had made her aware of what had happened and he felt a twist in his stomach at the thought.

He was afraid she would make it clear to him that she didn't want him, that she abhorred him, that she had no intention of marrying a man who didn't have a dragon of his own.

As she approached him however her eyes sparkled, she laughed as if she didn't believe it.

"Is it true?" She asked breathing loudly and he swallowed hard, nodding his head, looking at her with wide eyes.

"I'm so happy." She giggled sweetly, warmly, covering her mouth with her hand, as if someone had just given her a wonderful surprise.

He felt some kind of heat in his chest, an affection towards her, a gratitude for her faithfulness, for her devotion, for the fact that she respected him.

He was shocked to think that she would make a good wife.

Aegon laughed at him, not understanding where his lack of objection came from, how he could think that good had happened.

"She doesn't even have an arse or tits." He sneered and he clenched his jaw, wrinkling his brow, looking at him over his shoulder.

"Shut your mouth. Don't speak about her this way." He growled, feeling that her good name was now his as well, and that he had to protect her.

Aegon snorted, shaking his head, patting him on the back piteously.

"My little brother fell in love with Lady Strong?" He asked, forcing himself into a sweet, mocking tone as if he were speaking to a small child, which angered him even more. He slammed his head against his forehead, and he swore in pain, staggering backwards, catching the table, which fell over with him.

"You fucking bastard!" He shouted throwing himself at him, and they began to pound each other with their fists, wrestling with each other on the floor, until, hearing the commotion, a servant girl rushed into his chamber, trying to separate them.

His future wife visited him in his chamber that day, concerned that he had not appeared in the library, raising her eyebrows in simultaneous concern and amusement as she saw him holding an ice cube to his red cheek, a large bruise under his eye.

"What's happened?" She asked as she was accustomed to, without any pleasantries, approaching him sitting in a chair that was, however, too big and his legs did not reach the ground. He just rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders without answering.

He had no intention of revealing what had caused the fight − he wasn't going to appear to her as a prince on a white horse who would worship and adore her, as in all those poems she had surely read.

"Does it hurt a lot?" She asked further, and he shook his head. She sighed heavily, taking a single lemon cake from the pocket of her bottom gown, placing it in front of him.

"I know the Queen only allows you to eat sweets after your weekly visit to the Great Sept, but I stole one for you anyway. As a consolation." She said proudly, and he nodded, lifting his gaze to her, involuntarily feeling grateful.

She cared for him without wanting anything in return.

Since they were betrothed, she hadn't asked him for solitary walks, gifts, confessions of love or anything else a lady of her status might desire from the man she was to marry.

"Thank you." He replied calmly, recognising that he could give her at least that much.

She looked around his chamber and he realised that she was in it for the first time in her life. He stood up, setting the ice sack down in the bowl, walking over to his bookshelf, a gift to him from his mother.

"If you wish, I can lend you some. Just pick which one." He said softly, coming to the conclusion that he wanted to be kind to her, that he wanted her to have no regrets about him becoming her husband, to be proud of it.

She looked at him gratefully and took out a book written by the ancient philosopher, Areon, dissecting human dignity and duty. Something about her choice pleased him, the thought that she wanted to understand him.

She pressed the book to her heart and looked at him, her eyes seemed even bigger to him than usual, her beautiful long eyelashes, hair and plump lips shone in the summer light of the day.

He felt a pleasant tickle in his lower abdomen watching her without saying a word.

"– can I kiss you? –" She asked so quietly that for a moment he thought he had overheard himself. He felt his whole body tense up as his pupils dilate in disbelief, his fingers involuntarily began to rub against each other in a subconscious nervous reflex.

Oh gods.

Should they be doing this?

Was this the right thing to do?

She was supposed to be his wife. From what he understood, husbands and wives did this, as a kind of union and intimacy.

He swallowed loudly, looking at her lips, thinking they looked pleasantly warm and soft; a shiver went through him at the thought that he could feel them in a moment if he wanted to.

He nodded his head.

He watched her vigilantly, involuntarily breathing through his mouth as she stepped closer to him; he was taller than her and leaned in slightly, wanting to make her task easier.

She surprised him when she suddenly lifted up on her tiptoes and her lips pressed against his in a warm, innocent kiss − he felt like his heart had stopped for a moment, the scent of vanilla filled his lungs, her skin delightfully moist and soft.

It felt so pleasant.

She pulled away from him immediately, all red as he was, breathing hard, as if it took a lot of effort and courage from her too, her wide eyes looked at him in excitement, as if she was waiting for his reaction.

"– one more time –"

These words came out of him like a weak whisper, like a plea through which he felt the shame overpowering him.

She smiled before rising on her toes again, this time placing her hand on his shoulders for balance − she pressed her fleshy, moist lips to his for a longer time and sighed softly as he touched her cheek, wonderfully soft and warm.

She pulled away from him with a quiet click and closed her eyes feeling him stroke her skin with his thumb. He pressed his forehead against hers, feeling butterflies in his stomach.

"– will you come to me at night? –"

He had nightmares most of the time at night − usually dreams in which he saw anew the pig that his brother and nephews had introduced to him as his dragon, humiliating him as no one had ever done before.

He found that her presence calmed him and that perhaps if she slept in the same bed, he would finally get some rest.

He didn't think about the fact that it might have been at least inappropriate in the eyes of others when under the cover of night she snuck into his chamber, slipping under the thick furs beside him, snuggling up to him. In his mind she was already his wife, and wives slept with their husbands − unless it was his parents.

They lay that night looking at each other with their foreheads pressed together, stroking each other's cheeks, shy and embarrassed.

Their wordless, innocent confession of affection and need for closeness.

"We are going to have seven children." He stated after some thought, as if he had decided that such a number would satisfy him. He wanted his family to be strong and broad, and also seven were gods, so it had symbolic meaning as well.

She blinked, as if something troubled her in his words, furrowing her brow.

"My mother gets very tired during childbirth and then can't get up for a few days. With the rest, how do we do it?" She asked uncertainly and he shrugged his shoulders.

He had never delved into the ins and outs of the pleasures of the flesh too much − Aegon had said that rapprochements with women were very pleasurable and, as he understood, that was why he couldn't pull away from them, to him, however, what he had was enough.

"We'll find out everything when we're older. Do not fret." He said with certainty, stroking her soft, plump cheek with his thumb. She cheered up, he saw the sparkle in her gaze before her lips stole a soft, warm kiss from him again.

He smiled at the thought that he felt that in her eyes he was a man, the head of their future family.

There had been times when he had forgotten who she was, who her father was, her smile, her laugh, her eyes, the sweet kisses she bestowed on him when they were alone made him think it didn't matter anymore.

Years later, he could not believe how wrong he was.

______

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes

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allywthsr · 6 months

Text

Christmas shopping | (l.norris)

summary: you and Lando go Christmas shopping

wordcount: 1.1k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: spending a lot of money

notes: tell me your thoughts!!

advent calendar

”Lando, come on, you’re so slow.“

You were Christmas presents shopping with your boyfriend, Lando.

Due to you both living in Monaco, you were currently roaming around shops like Louis Vuitton or Dior. It was harder to get presents than you thought. The cold air was slapping against your skin, whenever you were walking from store to store.

Today were Lando’s parents, his siblings, his sister-in-law, his nieces, and your family on the agenda. Obviously, you weren’t going to get Mila and Athena something from the expensive stores, for that you wanted to drive to Nice and see if you could find something, as well as for the others if you didn’t find anything here.

Lando’s sister Cis and you talked over the phone yesterday and she told you that she wanted this Louis Vuitton scarf for a while, but it was too expensive for her to buy it on her own, so you called Oliver this morning and asked if they would be down to pay for the rest, that Lando and you wouldn’t cover. He gladly agreed and now you were looking through the different kinds of scarfs there were.

”Do you think she‘d want a rose or a beige-colored one?“

”I would choose a beige one, fits better with the rest of the clothes.“

You nodded and called for an employee, to help you. Quickly you had bought the beige one, Lando and you agreed to cover four hundred pounds and the rest four hundred pounds would pay Oliver and Savannah.

On your way out you looked at the different bags, you slowed down and tugged on Lando’s hand.

”Look at that one!“

”Y/N, we’re not here for you.“

”But they’re beautiful.“

Before you could say another word, he dragged you out of the Louis Vuitton, too scared you would feed your handbag addiction. ”Flo talked about this necklace, it’s like silver with a horseshoe pendant.“

”Where do we get that?“

”Tiffany & co?“

With intertwined hands, you made your way to the next store, Tiffany. Immediately someone came up and offered you a champagne, but you declined and went to an employee, wanting to see all the different necklaces. Different colors, silver, gold, or rose gold were shown to you, but in the end, you decided to go with silver, like Flo wanted. The necklace cost two-hundred pounds, but Lando held his credit card against the machine, and it didn’t hurt him one bit. He earned enough money to spend a bit more on Christmas.

Again, Lando had to drag you out, because he knew how you loved looking at (and buying) jewelry.

”What are thinking for your parents?“

”I have absolutely no clue, they have everything they need and if they’re missing something, they buy it. Do you have an idea baby?“

”Not really, maybe like a small trip to Monaco? And we can rent a boat for the whole family for a day or something?“

”I like the idea, mum always likes quality time more than material things, we should invite your parents and the rest of your family as well, then we have a present for them too.“

”Uh yes, I like that.“

He grabbed your hand and put it in his pocket, you’re always cold, he knew that.

His parents and yours were checked off that list, now for Oliver and Savannah. Savannah was a simple girl, she was happy if you would give her a bouquet of flowers, but you weren’t going to do that. Oliver was more difficult, sure he would be happy over something small too, but he had everything he needed.

”What about a spa day for Savannah? I would sacrifice myself and go with her.“

”And of what do you need to relax from? I get Sav needing some time off from being a mum, but you?“

”I need time off from being your girlfriend?“

He looked at you, with a shocked look on his face, but he knew you were joking.

”I‘m kidding, I‘m kidding.“

You put one of your hands on his cheek and pressed your lips against his, for a quick kiss, but Lando being Lando, he tried to deepen it, holding your head with his hand. You tried to wiggle out his grip, ”Baby, we’re in public“, you knew Lando didn’t really care, he wanted to be a normal boy that had a girlfriend, and that’s how he sometimes acted.

With a groan, he let go of you, and pulled you to the next store.

”Alright, Sav gets a spa day and for my brother, I thought I‘d get him a bracelet and one of my helmets.“

”Your helmet?“

”Yes, he always says how he wants to have my podium helmets because they’re beautiful.“

”But then, what do I gift him?“

”We can share the bracelet.“

You hummed and looked around in the different jewelry store, Lando had pulled you in. After looking at a few, you decided to go for a brown one with silver details.

”We only have the kids and the dogs left.“

”The dogs? Are you serious, Y/N?“

”Of course! They can’t get nothing.“

Lando only shook his head with a smile and kissed your cheek.

”Should we go to Nice? The toy store is supposed to be beautiful there.“

”Sure, let’s go.“

You two sat in his car and Lando drove you to Nice, he parked the car safely on the parking spots and you two went inside. You tightly held Lando’s hand, or else he would’ve been in the car section already, swooning over the different cars. He was a little boy at heart.

”Mila likes dolls nowadays, should we get her one?“

”Yes baby, I talked to Sav about it and they got her this specific one, so I know what to buy“, with that you pulled him to the dolls.

With a scan, you looked at all the different girls and found one with a dog, it had a leash and everything.

”Lando, please. It has a little dog!“, the pout on your face was big and Lando could just laugh at you.

Quickly he grabbed it and put it in the basket, now you two only had to get something for Athena, she was still a baby, so it wasn’t that hard. You got a toy, that played different music and would light up when you pressed different buttons, she would love it. Next to the toy store, was a small pet store, you couldn’t resist buying a toy for each dog, they needed to get presents too.

When you returned to your shared flat, in the evening, you looked at all the different bags. You love shopping for Christmas presents, no matter how stressful it is.

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #formula 1 #lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando x reader #lando norris one shot #lando imagine #christmas #shopping

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emmyrosee · 8 months

Text

There’s soft little grunts coming from the play table just a few feet away, and it doesn’t take long for your confused eyes to meet Atsumu’s.

It’s not too long before Hisako has to get taken for a bath and up to bed, and while the night had seemed to go smooth, smooth as any other night, the way she slowly rose from her seat and practically limped over to her crayons was more than… odd, to say the least.

“Should… we interviene?” Atsumu asks, golden eyes flicking to you.

You shrug, “I… don’t know? Has she been limping all day?”

“Not that I’ve seen. Have you seen her limping?”

“No; and I know Osamu would’ve said something if he saw her limping at breakfast.”

Instantly, a tiny head whips towards you both at the mention of Osamu, eyes wide and glimmering with excitement.

Atsumu snorts, “ya said the magic word.”

“Uncle ‘Samu?” She chirps, looking between you both.

“Later,” You chuckle. Then, you put your phone to the side and shift slightly to lean towards Hisako. “But are you okay, baby?”

Hisako beams up at you both, “‘m okay, mumma!”

Atsumu leans forwards on his knees to join the conversation, “well, baby, why are you walking like you’ve got a boo-boo?”

“Im you, daddy!”

Silence. Silence fills the miya household for longer than enough time. Slowly, trying to stifle back the laughter that desperately needs to pour from your lips, Atsumu tucks his own into his mouth to keep his amused annoyance at bay.

“You’re who?”

“I’m you!” She repeats happily. “Cause when you get up, you make funny noises n’ grab your back and leg!”

This, finally, has you releasing all the laughter you’d been trying to keep in, your arms clutching your sides as you cackle. Between your screwed shut eyes, you see Atsumu tuck his tongue in his cheek. Hisako, not knowing better, joins in with your laughter, leaving just Atsumu to wallow in betrayal.

Once you both quiet down, Atsumu takes a deep breath in his nose, then releases it slowly. “Honey,” he begins. “I don’t do those for pretend.”

“I know,” she says happily. “It ‘cause you’re old, dadda!”

Once again, your cackles fill the room.

“YOU DONT EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS, OKAY?!”

“Yuh-huh!” She assures. “Uncle ‘Samu said you got grey hairs too, ‘cause you’re old!”

You wipe a tear from your eye and gently take one of Atsumu’s clenched fists in your hands, “hey; if you’re old, he is too, baby,” you promise him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek.

Hisako shrugs, “uncle ‘yoomi says it’s cause you don’t listen to him.”

“Yeah, and I’m done listening to you,” he snarls only slightly serious. He pops on his feet, and you do your hardest to hide the snort that slips past your mouth when the sound of his cracking bones ring in the air. He glares, and you tuck your lips in to try and stifle the rest. “Come on you,” he grumbles, grabbing Hisako by the sides and lifting her up and over his shoulder while she giggles and fights his grip. “You need a bath. Wash your mouth out with soap.”

“Daddy!” She squeals; you offer her a small wave as she’s carried up the stairs with Atsumu, and you pull out your phone to text Osamu.

SENT you call your brother old in front of your niece?

Osamu 🍱 duh

we are old

he just ages like milk

im a fine wine

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 day

Text

I will never say that I am in love (18+)

{ alternate title: you are the love of my life }

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

When the one-eyed prince falls, the realisation comes to him in the scent of flowers. In his nephew's laughter. In his dreams.

themes/warnings : just pure sweetness, our emotionally constipated and repressed Aemond Targaryen, he thinks some *impure* thoughts in this one (how dare he!!!), he does NOT want to even think about falling in love (what a stupid distraction, he is not weak, you all should know) - also, he is DOWN BAD for the reader.

all my other works

a/n : this is the first fic I'm writing completely in the male lead's, in this case Aemond's perspective. Complete train-of-thought type of storytelling. (also, this is not in my scheduled works, the idea came to me after watching the new promo clips for s2... never in a million eons did I ever think I would hear Ewan Mitchell utter the word "cheugy" but oh well) - Enjoy! 🖤

{ I. flowers ▪︎ II. innocence ▪︎ III. dreams }

Aemond decides that he finds pleasure in your scent.

The thought comes to him as he strolls through the halls of the Red Keep. Not a strong one, not a revelation by any means. A mere inkling of something he favours.

It is innocent. It is nothing.

He had spied some flowers peeking from just beneath a window. Roses, peonies, or some other, he did not bother to truly look. He glanced them out of the corner of his eye.

And he thought of you.

You smell something rather akin to those flowers - blooming and enticing and sweet.

A simple observation, rising to him now from his memory.

That is all.

Your scent reminds him of springtime in the gardens. You are pleasant, there is no doubt, but that very sweetness can only be construed as sickly if divulged in for far too long, too often.

Besides, his icy disposition does not really take well to flowers in the spring. They are more like to whittle under his boot, and shrivel from the coldness in his gaze.

You are not for him. No.

Flowers. Sweet things. The gentleness in your voice when you call him 'my prince'. Aemond scoffs at himself as he walks on.

It is no transgression to be distracted. It is a natural thing.

You are a distraction, and Aemond decides to think of you no more.

II.

Aemond comes to Helaena's chambers to visit with his niece and nephews. It is only by coincidence that you are almost always there too.

"Prince Aemond." Your voice resembles a song in greeting him. "Queen Helaena has just left to speak with Lady Alicent, but she should return shortly."

"Hmm." You are not a lady-in-waiting to Helaena, but more of a companion, a friend. Yet you do not mind looking after Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor when their mother is indisposed.

This is where Aemond finds you, most mornings. Were it anyone else, he might have sent them away, so that he can spend time alone with the children.

But he lets you stay, because, of course, Helaena would prefer it so. She dotes on you so dearly, Aemond has noticed.

In these instances, he lets you stay only because it is what Helaena would want. Why else?

He settles on an upholstered stool and beckons to the children. They eagerly waddle their way over to their beloved uncle.

You watch the interaction with a smile, as you always do. With your legs curled underneath you, comfortably seated on the floor a few feet in front of him.

Aemond used to pay you no mind, but increasingly it has been nagging at him that you are observing, taking him in.

It is inane to be self-conscious; there is no reason to be. He is the Prince - being perceived has been a constant all his life.

He is the Prince, and you are merely a lady companion.

But when you say things like, "They are very fortunate to have you as their uncle, my prince," it makes him feel a sense of pride. Like it is some accomplishment to be complimented by you.

He knows this. He knows he is a good uncle.

Perhaps it is just that. Vanity.

You pointing it out has nothing to do with anything.

Jaehaerys crosses the many strides it takes for him to reach you again, and he pulls at your hand.

"Come," he giggles.

"Where, sweet boy?"

"Come, come here, come here," he mumbles mostly to himself, grunting when you are unmoving and his three-year old form is unable to magically transport you as he wishes.

"Okay," you laugh once, getting on your feet with your body bent to his level, and you let him pull you to where he wants.

Which is... right next to his dearest uncle Aemond.

"There." Jaehaerys claps his hands in glee, as you curl up on the floor beside Aemond's outstretched legs.

"He has a sense of humour, that one," you grin, looking up at Aemond.

Aemond sees your expression up close and you look okay. Comely. Fine. You are not bad-looking, by any means.

You are the most beautiful lady in the court.

You are fine, just fine.

Aemond would not mind seeing your face everyday; he already sees it every night in his dreams.

And it is just fine.

"Is something the matter, my prince?"

Call him that. Do it again. Or better yet, replace prince with his name. Call him 'my Aemond'.

Aemond desires nothing more than to hear it.

Because... because he is vain. Nothing more than that. It would take a high degree of devotion for someone to utter the words 'my Aemond' to him. And who would not want to be at the end of such idolatry.

Perceive him. Worship him. Consume him.

You already consume him.

Aemond stands abruptly, and you scramble to follow suit.

"Aem... Aemond," you stammer. "I mean, forgive me... my prince, what is wrong?"

Aemond looks down. Your delicate hand is gripping his arm, the sleeve of his tunic doing nothing to mask the heat of your skin.

He is of dragon, he is of fire.

But your touch burns.

The clacking of wooden toy horses ring in the background, the children lost in their imagination.

"Nothing," Aemond clears his throat, and folds his arms behind him so your hand falls. "I am alright. I must go."

The smell of sweetness lingers in his nostrils. Your sweetness. He is growing weak.

He steps away, "I bid you farewell, my lady."

"My prince."

Call him Aemond. Call him by his name, title be damned. By the gods, call him yours.

Aemond nearly rushes out of the chambers, his gait sure and his footsteps heavy.

Tonight, in his dreams, he will finally release his foolish desires and that will be the end of it.

Behind his eyes, he will touch you and taste you and watch you crumble underneath him.

And he will be your Aemond.

That will be the climax of this passing fantasy.

III.*

Aemond has stripped down to his undergarments, supine above the silk sheets of his bed. He runs a hand over his face, and he sees you.

All the better for it, he supposes, that he gets rid of it now before it ruins him further.

It is a memory, from only one moon ago, but he sees it clear as day.

You had let your hair down that day, and it flowed freely, following the gentle breeze. Nestled in what Aemond found out to be your favourite spot in the gardens, needle and thread in your dainty fingers, you tell him that you are embroidering a veil for your dear mother.

You request for him to sit with you, and Aemond obeys.

Pleasantries are exchanged, about the weather, your duties, his training. All the while Aemond watches the contour of your lips, how it stretches back to reveal your smile when he says something that could not be the farthest from amusing, but you find it amusing anyway.

He stares you down questioningly.

You blush then, turning your focus back to your work, "Apologies, but I... I admire the way you speak, my prince. As if every word is deliberate, carefully chosen. You are intelligent, and you care what you say."

"Hmm," he said then, but now...

In his mind, he lets you know just what he wants, "Have you ever been bedded, my lady?"

You look at him in shock, of course you do. Those rosy lips part, and Aemond wonders whether your lips below possess the same shade.

In his grand chambers, Aemond lets his hand drift down, down from the planes of his stomach, to his hardened cock. He licks his lips, and imagines the softness of your own. He strokes the leaking tip with his thumb. The picture continues.

"Do you not ever wonder about the deed?" Aemond asks.

"M-my prince...I do not... I - "

"You must," he sneers. "You must, as I do, and when I do, it is you who floods my very thoughts, and consumes my very being."

"I do not know what to say."

"Say you want to kiss me."

His grip tightens, drawing down and up his cock, covering it with the milky white that has leaked from his tip. He is pained, teeth pressing down on his lower lip. He imagines your hands on him, your dress undone as you watch him come undone.

"We mustn't," you look down in shame. Your legs clench together to keep in the warmth.

"Come here, my sweetness," he leads you to sit atop him, and your work clatters to the ground.

You try to look away, try to hide just how much he is affecting you.

"Kiss me," Aemond pleads.

You comply. He slips his tongue past your lips.

Faster, wetter, he gets harder and it is unbearable. His hands are not enough, he wishes to plunge his aching member right into your soaking folds. Wishes to watch beads of his sweat fall on to you as he pounds you without mercy, his cock squelching deep inside your cunny until it is sore. If only you will ache as he does. Come as he comes.

Aemond lifts you up and the two of you end up stumbling down on the grass. He does not relent. His fingers make quick work of the strings and ribbons holding you together. Your breasts come free and he latches his mouth on one, his tongue swirling against the nipple.

"Oh Aemond!" you moan, and it is a scandal. It is everything unholy. It is every dirty thought nestled in his mind.

Soon he has you bare, your skin practically glowing under daylight. You are perfect, and you are his.

"Take me," you say, practically begging. "I want you to fill me with your cock. Fill me with your seed, my dragon prince. Please."

"My sweetness," Aemond reveals himself to you, undoing his breeches and slipping out of his tunic. How could he resist?

"Do you want me?" he asks.

"Yes."

"Say it."

"I want you, my prince," you affirm, squirming under him, you hips bucking up with desire, hopelessly attempting to rub your cunny against his skin.

"My Aemond," he corrects you. "Say it."

"I want you," you say, "my Aemond."

Aemond rubs his cock faster and faster, the thick green veins in his hand and arms straining angrily under his skin. He feels you, he sees you in his mind so clear. You are his, and he is your Aemond.

He plunges his cock inside you, and you are left mewling and writhing as he quickens his assault.

He groans loudly. The lewd squelching of his cock turning sloppy, hasty, mindless. A few more strokes and he comes all over himself, hot white streaks decorating his torso. His silver hair in disarray on the pillows, like a broken halo. Beads of sweat falling from his temple. His mouth parted as he whispers your name.

He gives himself a few more tugs, emptying out. You would do him so much better. Touch him so well.

In his mind, he still sees it. Fragments of his memory bleeding through his fantasies. He does not know anymore what is real and what is not.

He cleans himself up with warm cloth afterward, feeling shame at his actions.

This is enough. Now he has released you from his being. The desire he holds so closely to his chest must have dissipated along with the lewd act he just committed.

"My Aemond," you whisper from behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso.

Enough. No more of such useless musings.

"I love you, Aemond."

I love you too.

🌸🌸🌸

* In III, reality is fully italicized, and his memories + fantasies are typed as normal.

this was meant to have more sections ( IV to VII )... maybe I'll come around to it eventually.

Let me know what you think of this sort of writing from Aemond's perspective!

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #ewan mitchell

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soliarus · 10 months

Note

hi!! could i request kindergarten teacher sana and reader fluff? reader goes to her nieces open house and bumps into ms. minatozaki, the most beautiful person she’s ever seen. sana mistakes reader for being her nieces mom, but reader explains that her brother just had a sudden work event.

*sigh* Young Love

-fluff

: falling for your niece’s teacher is crazy

words 1k

teacher!sana x fem!reader

────────────────────

The smell was the first thing you noticed about the small classroom. It smelled wonderful, like roses. The little girl holding your hand pulls you past the doorway, “Over here! Over here!” Your niece pulls you towards the cubbies, pointing out hers. Each cubby had its own little custom name tag; your niece’s had a little pink flower on hers.

“Wow, Eun, is this your cubby?” You ask, watching the girl squeal and describe every little detail, “Yes! Yes! My backpack goes on this hook! And my shoes go down here! Oh! And my lunchbox stays here until snack time!” You smile at the girl kneeling next to her as she reenacts how she puts everything into her little cubby.

“Eun! It’s good to see you made it!” A cheery voice flows into your ears. Turning around, you see the most beautiful person you’ve ever met. Your niece runs towards the woman, “Ms. Minatozami!”. She stumbles over the name slightly, going in to hug the woman.

“You must be Eun’s teacher,” you mumble. Your niece talks about her teacher a lot, but she always says a different name each time you ask. She eats dinner gushing about how she’s the best teacher and the most beautiful woman in the whole world. And now you think you agree.

“Yes, it’s Minatozaki, actually, Sana Minatozaki; you can just call me Sana.” She holds up her hand for you to shake, and you take it. Staring at your interconnected hands, you hear someone clear their throat. You look down and notice your niece looking at you expectantly, and then you look up and see Sana with her head tilted. Your hand is still holding her’s.

“Oh- um,” you quickly bring your hand back, “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you prett- I mean beautifu- I mean Sana! It’s nice to meet you, Sana!” You embarrassingly blush, as Sana giggles, “and it’s a pleasure meeting you, Y/N”. She smiles as you look away, hiding your hands behind your back. Her thoughts ran wild before she forced herself to stop. That's your student’s mother, your student's young pretty mothe- jeez Sana; get a hold of yourself! She internally scolds herself before another student begins to call her over.

“Oh, I must get going. I hope the two of you enjoy the open house. Little Eun has worked really hard on all her projects this year. I'm sure you’ll love each one.” She smiles at the two of you before walking away. You continue to stare at her as she talks to another student and their parents, hearts in your eyes, as Sana moves a piece of hair behind her ear, as she leans into one of the desks, as she points to one of the posters on her wall, as she-

Damn,” Eun says, her arms crossed and a smirk on her face. “You’re down bad!”

“W-what!” You look down at her, surprised. “Where did you learn that!? You're like four!”

“Five actually... Come look at where I sit!” And you’re being dragged across the classroom.

────────────────────

Sana sighed. She’s getting slightly irritated; it’s been 30 minutes, and no one has come to pick up the little girl beside her.

“Eun? You said your father is picking you up today?”

The girl beside her, who is busy kicking a rock, nods, “Yes, miss, he always picks me up.”

Sana almost groans, “He’s sure taking his sweet time today, huh?”

“Eun! Eun!” Both of them look down the path and see a figure running towards them. You stop in front of them panting, wearing what seems like work attire. “Eun, sorry I kept you waiting; your dad had something come up at work so I’ve come to pick you up today.”

You ruffle the girl's hair, picking up her backpack. “C'mon up, we go.” You pick her up with a grunt, “god girl, you’re getting heavy.” Eun didn’t like that comment very much, and she showed that by smacking the side of your head.

“Ouch, Eun I was just kidding.” You look up and notice the same teacher who’s taken over your mind since the last time you saw her.

“Oh, Sana!”

“Hi Y/N!” Sana can’t help but admire you. She thinks you look so pretty in your work clothes, even if they’re all ruffled up from your running and your hair is slightly tossed. She can’t help but want to be with y- wait, wait, wait—you have a child; she can’t be with you; you’re married, for goodness sake.

She turns around and sees you walking away with Eun waving back at her, “Byyyee, Ms. Manatozapi!”

“Bye Eun! See you tomorrow!” Sana happily sighs while watching you walk away from her sight, she's feeling guilty falling for who she thinks is a taken woman. “It’s Minatozaki,” she says to herself, chuckling.

────────────────────

“Why aren’t you outside with the other kids, Eun?” Sana asks the little girl, who’s busy doodling something with crayons,

“Oh, Ms. Minatoki!” The little girl beams up at her teacher. “Mmm, I just don’t feel like it today,” she shrugs, going back to coloring.

The older woman sighs, shaking her head with a smile, and takes a seat across from her. “It’s Minatozaki, Eun.” Sana looks at the girl who’s peacefully focused on the paper in front of her. “Sooooo,” she starts, “how’s your mom?”

That seems to get Eun’s attention, “You know my mom?” Sana looks confused. “Yes? She came to the open house, remember, and she picked you up that one time?”

Eun stared at Sana in disbelief. “You mean Auntie Y/N?”

Sana froze, Aunt? Oh, my god, you were her aunt. Sana felt like she had won the lottery. Eun swings her feet, looking at Sana confused, “Auntie Y/N always asks about you too,” she exposes.

“She asks about me?”

“Mhmm and she’s single.”

“Oh…that’s good to know.” Sana mumbles, a soft blush on her face, a paper slides in front of her, and Eun is looking at her with an innocent face.

“Maybe you should write your number down.” Sana looks at Eun, surprised. She laughs at the little girl’s action, picking up a crayon.

“You’re a little wingwoman, aren’t you?”

"You should pay me then, Ms. Minatozaki"

"You said my name right!"

"Well duh, it's going to be my aunt's name soon"

────────────────────

Later that night, when Sana’s getting ready for bed, she's humming a little tune she caught from one of her students. She was doing her skincare routine, her bathrobe loosely tied.

Her phone goes off, and her humming stops.

Hey Sana!

It’s Y/N! Got your number from Eun!

Sana’s smile grows, and if she wasn’t standing up right now, she would be kicking her feet, but the next little ding causes her eyes to widen.

You thought I was her mom?

#twice x reader #twice imagines #twice imagine #sana x reader #sana imagines #sana #twice

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headcanonsandmore · 5 months

Text

Harry Houdini with every Doctor (1-15):

One: Something akin to professional curiosity. One starts chortling during a particularly daring escape, and Houdini decides he likes this stranger.

Two: Houdini flirts with Jamie who, of course, doesn't notice. But the Doctor does, and starts to wonder.

Three: This flamboyant peacock of a man explodes into Houdini's life. Having now understood what his predecessor was trying to figure out, Three takes no time in thoroughly having a lot of fun. Houdini is very happy about this.

Four: An interesting case. Less of a raw physical relationship and more like two colleagues who ended up lounging around each other and thought 'why not?'.

Five: They have tea together. Houdini is amused by the Doctor constantly bickering with the young Australian, whose girlfriend Nyssa is lovely. He isn't sure why the Doctor doesn't seem to notice this about the two women, though.

Six: More raw physicality again. Houdini got used to the coat after a while.

Seven: Houdini doesn't understand why the time lord keeps avoiding introducing him to his young friend Ace.

Eight: Whirlwind romance with lots of day drinking.

War: Houdini wonders why the Doctor hasn't visited in a while, and is faintly worried by the absence.

Nine: The time lord appears on Houdini's door one evening in the rain. They don't speak much at first, so Houdini just cuddles Nine. Sometimes he can see a deep grief in their eyes, and it scares him.

Ten: Houdini would like it to be physical but this face is somehow more depressed than the last. He wonders who this 'Rose' person is. The Doctor tells him to stay away from someone called... Captain Jack? Houdini doesn't understand, but he takes the Doctor at their word.

Eleven: They mostly talk about escapology. Eleven does kiss him once or twice, but they decide it's better to leave things at that.

Twelve: Surprisingly physical and tender. Whose are the names he whispers in quiet moments, seemingly without realising? Who is River? Who is Missy? Who is Clara?

Thirteen: The woman thing wasn't a big deal, but Houdini is baffled by the sheer intensity of the Doctor this time. She apologises whenever he gets close, saying that she isn't really into that at the moment. Houdini asks who this 'Yaz' is; the Doctor waves the question away, with a smile that doesn't reach her eyes and a blush that she doesn't seem to notice.

TenThree/ David Doctor/ Sorry-Mr-Tennant-I-can't-call-you-Fourteen: Houdini is happy that this face seems to have finally gotten some peace. His niece Rose seems lovely.

Fifteen: Houdini is physically reminded of the dandy again. In all the best ways.

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fantasyescapes17 · 1 year

Text

Patience (Part 1)

An elaborate charade- that is what your life has been for these past few years, and it has taken the help of more than one person to balance your delicate lies and secrets. Now entering your final season as an eligible young lady seeking wedded bliss, will you be able to keep up the act in order to achieve your dreams?

Genre: Choi Seungcheol x female!reader. Regency!AU (It's sort of Bridgerton-esque in the sense that I give zero attention to historical accuracy and prioritize aesthetics lmao) You are Jeonghan's sister so your last name is Yoon, but the reader has no other specific characteristics, physical or otherwise.

Word Count: 4.1k+

Part 2

Series Masterlist

"I'm afraid the upcoming season will be Miss Yoon's final opportunity to secure herself a decent husband," the obnoxious woman remarked.

She did not seem embarrassed that the subject of her gossip (i.e, you) sat immediately across from her in the lavish parlour and well within earshot. She looked straight at you and silently dared you to respond to her callous comment.

You did not indulge her. You merely sipped your tea.

"Oh, surely not," her friend replied with a hint of embarrassment. "You mustn't say that, Mrs. Patty! Miss Yoon still has plenty of time before we can write her off as an old maid. She should be perfectly eligible for another two or three seasons, I dare say."

"She might have been, if not for that darling younger sister of hers. I believe little Miss Mina is eighteen now, and will be making her debut in society next season. Am I correct, Miss Yoon?" Mrs. Patty demanded of you.

You couldn't ignore a question addressed directly to you. You placed your teacup on the table and nodded reluctantly.

"Yes, Mother believes that my sister should be ready to debut next year," you replied softly.

Miss Patty looked triumphant. "Well! There you have it! Anyone who has laid eyes on Miss Mina knows that she is the loveliest little creature and I am sure her paltry dowry will not prevent an eligible man from proposing to her. Miss Mina will be snatched up instantly- and then what shall happen to our dear Miss Yoon? With her younger sister married before her, she won't have a chance!"

The other woman frowned. "Indeed, Miss Mina is uncommonly beautiful. She will have her pick of eligible men."

You rose from your seat abruptly. "Pardon me, ladies. I shall call for some more tea and cakes- we seem to be running short."

You exited the parlour before they had a chance to object, and cursed your mother for leaving you alone to handle the guests. Mother should have known that these infuriating women would show up the instant they heard that the Yoons had arrived in London for the season.

You turned towards the kitchens, hoping that the maids would not offer to help and make your journey redundant. Luckily, the servants were busy unpacking and carrying in your family's belongings. It had been a long journey from the countryside to your London abode- but a necessary one. The Yoon family could not absent themselves from the London season when they had two eligible members of marriageable age.

You turned the corner of the main hallway and came face to face with the other eligible Yoon. Your half-brother, Jeonghan.

"Jeonghan!" you called out to him hopefully. "Are you going out? Will you take me with you?"

Jeonghan was in the process of lacing up his riding gear and stood to greet you. As your father's only son from his first marriage, Jeonghan became the heir to the entire Yoon estate upon your father's passing.

"I'm afraid not, sister- I am going out riding with the Lees. You would be required to bring a chaperone," he replied slyly, reminding you, quite unnecessarily, that you could not be seen in public in the company of other single men without a female chaperone present.

You sighed. "All right- but could you stop by the parlour room before you leave?"

"Why? So that Mrs. Patty may set up a meeting for me with her third niece? There are many things I would do for you, dear sister, but subjecting myself to Mrs. Patty is not among them," Jeonghan replied calmly as he continued to tie the straps of his riding gear. "I am sacrificing plenty for you already. I shall have my hands full at the Grisham's ball tomorrow."

You blinked. "What will happen at the Grisham's ball?"

"I have heard that a certain Mr. Hessington has expressed an interest in you. We shall have to take precautions to ensure he does not find the opportunity to express this interest in front of your mother."

"Oh dear. What does Hessington want?" you despaired.

Jeonghan smirked. "He wants marriage. They all do. That is the purpose of this elaborate charade of having a season and attending all these social events, is it not? To find a suitable partner in marriage?"

"Jeonghan, there is only one season left," you reminded him miserably. You reached for your brother's arm. "You must make sure nobody proposes to me this season. From next year everyone will focus on Mina and I will be forgotten- and once she is married then my prospects will be entirely extinguished. You must ensure nothing comes in the way of this."

Jeonghan sighed. "You must be the only woman in London who is actively trying to make herself less eligible for marriage."

"And I have been doing a wonderful job so far. Mrs. Patty said herself that I'm as good as an old maid next season if Mina gets engaged before me. And she surely will be. After that, they'll throw me aside with the old maids and governesses and widows."

"Six months more?"

You nodded eagerly. "Six months more. I will be in your debt forever, Jeonghan."

He sighed. "You certainly shall be. I've become nothing short of a villain in my step-mother's eyes since you persuaded me to tell her that I had reduced your dowry. She has most of the ton convinced that I am an evil brother stealing his sisters' rightful inheritance."

"But we had to do that. A large dowry would make me attractive to men looking to marry for a fortune," you reminded him.

Jeonghan sighed. "I know. All the same, I've set aside your money. You and Mina will have your dowries once this charade is over. All of the dowry, I mean, not the paltry amount I told your mother you would receive."

You shook your head with a smile.

"I don't need it."

"Don't refuse money when it's offered to you, good god, woman, have you lost your senses?" Jeonghan said lightly. He placed his hands on his hips and smiled back at you. "You seem more cheerful than usual."

"We're almost at the end of this charade. Six more months," you replied excitedly.

"Well, do try to look less cheerful. For all the ton knows, you're a woman with little dowry, no prospects, a prettier younger sister, and getting on in age. People will begin to wonder what you have to be so happy about."

You smiled to yourself.

You had plenty to be happy about. And Mrs. Patty and the rest of the ton could choke on their tea and biscuits- they would never find out.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Your mother maintained a tight grip on your arm as she steered you around the corners of the large ballroom on the Grisham's summer estate.

Your arm was beginning to feel numb.

"Now," your mother said firmly. "Don't you be discouraged by what Mrs. Patty says. You're a young woman of good breeding and though you're not nearly as charming as Mina, there's nothing wrong with you. Lesser women than you have secured wealthy husbands, do you understand?'

You resisted the urge to sigh. "Yes, mother."

"But you mustn't become lax about this. You need to consider what might happen to us if … if that boy Jeonghan decides to cast us out. You and your sister must marry well before that happens."

You turned to your mother in surprise. "Mother! Jeonghan would never do such a thing!"

Your mother had very little love for her stepson and she was not shy about admitting it. "Well, he's already stolen half your dowries, there's no knowing what he'll do next. We may be on the streets soon. Even sooner, if he decides to marry and his new wife decides to be rid of us. Your marriage is important."

You sighed. "Yes, mother."

"Now put on a smile and look a little more graceful."

You took a deep breath and straightened your shoulders. It was a delicate line you walked in social events such as these. You had to look dignified and well-mannered enough to satisfy your mother, but not so captivating that you captured the attention of any potential suitors. It only got easier with time. You were older and consequently less attractive than the young girls in the room, and the ton would certainly have heard the news of your reduced dowry.

You tried not to make eye contact with any men as you quietly moved through the crowd like a wallflower. You were suddenly and abruptly met by a very tall man that appeared before you.

"Miss Yoon. May I have the pleasure of the next dance?"

You breathed a sigh of relief as you recognised the man. He had a mischievous smile on his face. "Mr. Kim! Oh thank heavens, I was worried that it was an actual suitor."

Mr. Kim Mingyu had the decency to look offended as he took your hand and swept you skillfully towards the dance floor for a lively waltz.

"Do you think that we would allow an actual suitor within ten feet of you? We've been doing this for three years now, Miss Yoon. We're professionals now, I dare say. There's one of us stationed in each section of the room and we are ready to intervene in case any man shows the slightest bit of interest towards you."

You laughed. "Well, don't I feel well-protected."

"You are."

"I'm very sorry that you all have to spend your social gatherings watching out for me in this manner. Hopefully, this is the last season that this will be required," you apologised honestly.

"Nonsense. I rather enjoy it," Mingyu chuckled.

You shook your head. "I don't believe you. Surely you would rather save your dances for a woman in whom you have a genuine interest? I notice that the young lady in cerulean blue over there cannot keep her eyes away from us."

Mingyu cleared his throat and took a quick peek in the direction you nodded your head. "Ah. Well, that can't be helped. She's better off without me in any case, I've garnered a reputation as a rake. Dancing with me would only tarnish her prospects."

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yes," he replied simply.

"I suppose I cannot argue- being in the unique position of not caring about my own prospects makes me a poor judge. May I ask what you have done to have yourself labelled as a rake by the ton?" you enquired.

Mingyu smiled. "Other than being naturally charming, rich and handsome?"

"I'm afraid those qualities make for an eligible bachelor, Mr. Kim, not a rake."

Mingyu merely chuckled without offering further explanation as the dance came to an end. He gracefully led you off to the side, where you were drawn into a conversation with some other co-conspirators- namely Mr. Lee Seokmin and Mr. Kwon Soonyoung.

"Miss Yoon," was the cheerful greeting you received from a grinning Mr. Kwon. "I hope your quest to prevent all offers of matrimony fares well? I am pleased to report that the ton seems to be losing interest in you."

You smiled gratefully. "You bring glad tidings, Mr. Kwon. But I heard that Mr. Hessington…."

"Mr. Hessington is being informed of your reduced dowry and impending state of poverty at this very moment," Mr. Lee Seokmin reassured you. His eyes subtly darted towards the other end of the ballroom where your half-brother was in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hessington himself. You could not hear what was being spoken, but there was no mistaking Mr. Hessington's alarmed expression at whatever Jeonghan said to him.

"Delightful," you replied.

"We have further pleasant tidings for you," Mr. Kwon continued. His hand slid into his waistcoat and he cast a furtive glance around before withdrawing something and slipping it surreptitiously into your hands. You tucked it away into the folds of your gown hastily- but not before ascertaining that it was a small envelope.

Your eyes brightened in anticipation. "Could it be…"

"Indeed," Mr. Kwon replied with a large smile. "I was able to stop by a certain estate that shall remain unnamed on my way to London, and catch up with a dear friend of ours. He bid me to deliver a letter by hand that he dared not risk sending by post, lest it be intercepted by unwelcome parties. It will be safe, I trust, in your possession?”

You couldn’t hold back your smile. “Very safe, indeed.”

“I certainly hope so, because your mother approaches us and she looks rather red in the face.”

Your plans to sneak away to a quiet corner and read your letter were thwarted instantly by the approach of your mother. She was flushed and huffing, although she attempted to calm herself when she noticed that you were in the company of Mr. Kwon and Mr. Lee- while they were not the most eligible bachelors in the room, they were eligible and rich enough for your mother to greet them with her politest smile.

“Mr. Kwon, Mr. Lee. What a pleasure to see you in London,” she tittered. “I do hope you will find the time to call on us for tea later this week."

They both greeted her politely and accepted her invitation with the usual graces, before your mother took hold of your arm and steered you away from them.

"Is everything all right, mother?" you asked, concerned.

"All right? I have just heard- the most terrible news- Mr. Hessington had expressed an interest in courting you but that odious brother of yours has gone and told him about your dowry! I have half a mind to expose that conniving little man for what he is- a thief, a monster-"

"Mother, you must calm down," you insisted gently. "There must be some misunderstanding-"

Your mother was distraught. "Oh, what shall we do? If you are not married this season- we shall be left on the streets unless Mina marries exceedingly well but if that boy Jeonghan continues to ruin her prospects as well-"

"Nobody could ruin Mina's prospects. She is the sweetest, prettiest creature and you know everyone will fall in love with her when she comes into society. Perhaps we should accept that my time is coming to an end, mother…."

"No! No, you cannot give up, my dear. We shall find you a husband this season!"

You sighed. "Yes, mother-"

"Go, go back to Mr. Kwon and Mr. Lee- perhaps one of them will ask you to dance, they seem like nice young gentlemen and the evening is not yet over…"

You extricated yourself from your mother- but instead of returning to company, you slid along the length of the ballroom until you succeeded in finding a remote and private corner behind a table of refreshments and some heavy curtains. You eagerly pulled out the small envelope Soonyoung had given you and unfolded its contents as your heart swelled in anticipation.

My love,

It has been too long since we last spoke. I hope you and your family are well. Although I have met your brother a few times this year and heard news of you from him, it saddens me that you must always be so far away from me.

I will be travelling to London on business next week- I may not be able to stay the entire season, as you know well, but may I be so bold as to ask for a glimpse of your beautiful smile while I am in the city? I would be honoured if you would grant me a dance at Almack's on Thursday night. But do not put yourself to trouble, my love- if the thought of meeting me in public makes you uneasy or if your feelings for me have changed during our separation, know that I would never resent you. I desire nothing more than your happiness and well-being.

Forever yours

Your heart danced wildly as you tucked the contents back into the folds of your dress. It had been too long since you had received a letter from Seungcheol- a few close calls with your nosy mother intercepting your mail had made it too dangerous for him to write to you by normal post.

But to finally see him again after so many months apart! And on Thursday, so soon! You had to turn your face to the wall to hide your giddy smile. Three years of a secret, clandestine courtship had not diminished your adoration of the man in the slightest. You still felt as strongly for Mr. Choi Seungcheol as you had the very first time he smiled at you with his bright smile and took your hand in his gentle grasp for your very first dance, so many years ago.

You took a moment to compose yourself (it would not be appropriate to be seen looking so giddy) and slipped out of your corner. Your brother had been poking around at the refreshment table and he approached you when he saw you- Jeonghan's expression was grim.

"I think I shall avoid dining at home for the time being," Jeonghan told you drily. "I fear my step-mother may really intend to poison me for what I have done tonight."

You sighed. You were not ignorant of how much Jeonghan had sacrificed for your sake. "I am sorry for the trouble I have put you through because of all this, Jeonghan. I will try to calm my mother."

His eyes softened. "I don't require an apology from you, sister."

"Gratitude, then?" you offered gently.

"If you could keep your mother away from any sharp objects or poisonous substances, that should be sufficient recompense for now," he replied with a chuckle. "So. I heard from Mr. Kwon that a certain Mr. Choi will be in London in a few days."

You bit back a smile. "Yes."

Jeonghan patted you on the arm gently. "I am glad you will have a chance to see him. Perhaps we can arrange to have your mother occupied elsewhere for the evening…"

You shook your head. "I will handle mother myself, Jeonghan," you reassured him. "You have done plenty. "

Jeonghan looked contemplative for a moment. "I sincerely hope you and Seungcheol can be happy together soon, sister. I would not have put my own reputation at stake if I did not hold his character- and yours- in the highest regard."

You smiled. A genuine compliment from Jeonghan was rare, and that made it all the more precious. You squeezed his hand on your arm.

"Thank you, brother."

"Now- let us walk away quickly. I see Mrs. Patty approaches and she has that idiotic niece of hers right behind her…"

—----------------------------------------------------

The days trickled past slowly and painfully until Thursday evening finally arrived. Through your own clever manipulations, you had persuaded your mother to attend a card party being held by Mrs. Patty and to allow you to attend Almack's alone chaperoned by Viscountess Hong- one of the few married young women that your mother could be persuaded to entrust you with.

"I hope, Viscountess, that you will recommend my daughter to some of your acquaintances," your mother pressed. "You have done so well for yourself. I hope you can be a positive influence on her."

Viscountess Hong smiled. She had not been married long; her husband, Viscount Joshua Hong, had been renowned as one of the most eligible bachelors in London not long ago. It did not come as a surprise to anyone when their marriage was announced in the papers, however. The gossip-minded members of the ton had long known that Viscount Hong was smitten with a young lady of humble origins.

Your mother admired any woman who could achieve the difficult task of marrying above her station.

"I will be a responsible and careful chaperone, Mrs. Yoon. You may rest assured that I will take excellent care of your daughter for the evening," the Viscountess promised.

Your mother waved you off and you could not help the butterflies that erupted in your stomach as you climbed into the Hongs' carriage. Viscount Hong was waiting outside and greeted you in his usual kind and pleasant manner.

You thanked him nervously. "I'm very grateful for your invitation. I was worried that my mother would not be persuaded to let me visit Almack’s tonight without a female chaperone."

Viscountess Hong took your hand warmly. "Of course, we would never allow that! I’ve had the pleasure of seeing Seungcheol often this past year, and the man never smiles quite as brightly as when someone mentions your name. I'm afraid the man is quite devoted to you, Miss Yoon."

You felt shy, and bit your lip. "I-I do care for him a great deal."

Viscountess Hong beamed.

It was a pleasant carriage ride to Almack's- the Hongs kept you engaged in conversation and their friendly presence helped calm your nerves. As Viscountess Hong told you about the day she first met her husband, your mind drifted back to your own fateful introduction to Mr. Choi Seungcheol four years ago.

—------------------------------------

The estate was magnificent.

"Oh! A marble fountain! It is so beautiful!" your younger sister Mina cried out in delight at the sight of the immaculate gardens and the enormous white fountain that towered in the centre, gently spouting water.

Your mother (despite being notoriously difficult to impress) also looked at the enormous estate and manor appreciatively. "Indeed, this estate is quite lovely. Perhaps we should plant some flowers like those back home. You say this manor belongs to Mr. Choi?" she asked your brother.

Jeonghan nodded. "Yes- Mr. Choi Seungcheol was a close friend of mine at Oxford. His father passed away two years ago and he inherited the estate. He was more than happy to invite us all to stay at the manor while I take care of some business here in Derbyshire. The weather is lovely here this time of year."

"Very generous," your mother remarked thoughtfully as a servant unloaded the marriage behind you. "And… is there a Mrs. Choi?"

Jeonghan smiled tightly. "There was. she passed away in childbirth four years ago."

"He is a widower, then. And has a child," your mother remarked, displeased.

Jeonghan nodded. "Yes."

"Pity," your mother whispered to you, as she took your arm and walked towards the manor out of Jeonghan's earshot. "I was almost beginning to imagine you being mistress of this lovely estate. But you may find a way to have a marble fountain without having to marry a widower."

You blinked at your mother in surprise. It was no secret that she had not been your father's first wife.

"But you married a widower," you said, surprised.

Your mother shot you a sharp look.

"Exactly, my dear."

Before you could question her further on this hypocritical viewpoint, the entrance to the manor burst open. Servants emerged to unload your carriage and carry your things inside. They were followed by a tall, well-dressed man with a handsome smile that you barely managed to glimpse before your view was blocked by your brother stepping into your path.

“Seungcheol!”

The two men shook hands warmly, and you could see from Jeonghan’s unusually relaxed manner that he carried a great deal of affection and trust for Mr. Choi. They exchanged greetings for a moment, before Jeonghan finally stepped aside and allowed you to feast your eyes on Mr. Choi properly.

“Seungcheol- allow me to introduce you to my family. My father’s wife, Mrs. Yoon- and my two sisters, Miss Yoon and Miss Mina.”

You curtsied without taking your eyes off the startlingly handsome man. Seungcheol bowed politely in return. His manner was calm and suited a respectable and confident man- but there was something in his large eyes that sparkled with liveliness and joy. You had seen handsome men before- Jeonghan often had friends over for dinner and you had spent time in society.

But no man had ever made you feel quite so giddy.

“We are very grateful for your hospitality, Mr. Choi,” your mother said performatively. “Your estate is lovely. My daughters and I were just discussing how delightful that marble fountain is.”

Seungcheol smiled and glanced at the fountain. “Ah- yes, that was my own personal selection. I am rather fond of it myself. And allow me to say, madam, that it is a pleasure to be host to you and your lovely daughters. Your arrival has been long-awaited- not only by myself but by certain other members of my household.”

It was only then that you finally tore your eyes away from Mr. Choi’s smile and noticed that another person stood behind him. A small, dark-haired boy of no more than four years old with the same bright eyes as Mr. Choi was clinging shyly to his father’s legs.

“Allow me to introduce my son- Jiwoo.”

-------------------------

A/N: So this is my first time posting for Seventeen! I used to have a moderately successful fanfiction blog for a different kpop group on here a few years ago but I took a break and just wanted to start afresh since Seventeen is the only group I keep up with these days, and I miss writing.

I mostly plan to write some fantasy AUs over the next couple months (got some more regency, royal and other fantasy ideas brewing) so we'll see how it goes.

#seventeen fanfiction #seungcheol fluff #seventeen scenario #seungcheol angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt #svt imagines #regency!au #historical!au #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #s.coups #s.coups fluff #s.coups angst #s.coups fanfiction

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shakespeareanwannabe · 3 months

Text

As You Wish, Chapter 6

Summary: When arriving at Camp Silver Star, Abby Floyd was anticipating a summer of adventure with an ocean separating her from the three people she loved most: her mom, her Uncle Bob and her Aunt Natasha. But after a run in with Charlie Seresin, an extremely familiar looking and irritating camper in a different cabin, her summer plans take a turn that neither girl ever could have expected.

Potential Trigger Warnings: reader's children are described as being blond with green eyes because genetics are wild and Jake's genes are strong, reader is canonically Bob's sister (but biological relation is never discussed), reader goes by Buttercup and is tattooed, angst, sadness, reference to divorce, kids doing sneaky things, references to babies, swearing, references to the hospital

Sharp Memorial Hospital, almost 12 years ago

The skies were painted shades of lilac and rose, golden hues dancing just above the horizon as the sun played peekaboo with the clouds, not quite willing to give up the daylight just yet. Jake watched through the small window in the private hospital room, two small, warm weights resting against his bare chest. His wife of less than a year slept soundly in the uncomfortable hospital bed next to him.

Bob and Natasha had left a few hours before to get dinner, the WSO arriving the second he was invited to meet his new nieces, his partner following close behind. The two were never far from each other, and Jake knew that they preferred it that way.

“Knock, knock…”

Jake looked up and immediately rolled his eyes. Under his arms, Javy had two massive teddy bears, one pink and one purple. Behind him, Rooster stood with a bundle of balloons, looking like he’d rather be holding anything else.

“Hey fellas,” Jake whispered.

“Jesus, Hangman, don’t you ever put on a shirt?” Rooster scoffed playfully.

“It’s called skin to skin contact, dipshit. It’s supposed to be good for them,” he retorted, shifting Abby (or was it Charlie?) in his arms as she cooed softly.

“Easy with the language there, papa bear,” Javy laughed, depositing the two bears beside the side table and moving to stand behind Jake’s chair. “You’re gonna have to watch the swearing with these two little angels around.”

Jake chuckled softly. “Yeah, I know. Buttercup’s already given me sh—lip for it.”

“That’s why I love that girl,” Rooster nodded. “She knows how to keep Bagman in line.”

“Just for that, Javy gets to hold them first,” Jake cocked an eyebrow at his friend and rival.

“But there’s two of ‘em,” Rooster complained. “Why should I have to wait?”

“Because I’m his best friend? Because you can’t keep your mouth shut? Because I’m superior in every way?” Javy laughed, tugging the other chair in the room over and plopping down. “Alright, little ladies, come to Uncle Javy!”

“Better pick just one, or the Prodigal Son over there is gonna start pouting,” Jake smirked in Rooster’s direction, cradling his daughters closer when he flipped him off. “I can give you neither of them,” he reminded.

Rooster huffed. “Fine. Just gimme.”

Jake handed Charlie (it was definitely Charlie, he remembered now: Charlie was on his left side because her name has an L in it) over to Javy, who immediately started cooing at the infant as he cradled her head in his big hand.

“Hey there, girlie,” he whispered to the sleeping infant. “I’m your Uncle Javy, and we are gonna drive your old man nuts together. You just wait until you’re a little older and I’ll teach you all the different ways to make the vein in his forehead pop.”

“I regret everything,” Jake muttered, handing Abby over to Rooster. “Watch her head, man. Hold her like a football.”

“I know how to hold a baby, Bagman,” Rooster gripped, looking slightly awkward as he cradled the newborn.

“Coulda fooled me,” Jake returned, standing with a groan and pulling his shirt on. “Don’t hold her like you’re afraid of her, dumbass.”

“Dude, she’s like…fresh,” Rooster grumbled, tucking Abby a little closer to his body. “I’ve never held anything this new before.”

“You get used to it,” a quiet voice yawned behind them.

“Hey mama,” Jake grinned, swooping down to kiss his wife’s forehead. “How you feeling?”

Buttercup groaned and stretched, her joints popping. “Like I just went through 27 hours of labor and pushed two of your giant kids out of a 10-centimeter hole in my body?”

Javy shuddered. “A little graphic, Buttercup.”

“A little accurate, Coyote,” she shot back, leaning down to fiddle with the controls of her bed, raising herself higher. “Anyhow, its time for me to try feeding them again. And, before you ask, no. You’re not allowed to watch,” she glared playfully at Javy and Rooster.

“We have to go?” Javy pouted but handed Charlie back to Jake to deposit in his wife’s arms.

“Sorry, man,” Jake grinned. “But whatever she says, goes. I won’t be arguing with her for a long time after what she just went through.”

Buttercup smiled at him, exhaustion shining in her eyes as she accepted her daughter into her arms. “Thanks, baby,” she whispered. “Rooster? Can we get Abby back please?”

Jake turned to see Rooster standing stock still as he stared down at the sleeping baby. “Do…do I have to?” he whispered.

Jake chuckled. “Who woulda thought that it would only take my daughter to shut down Bradshaw’s attitude?”

Rooster shot him a glare as he handed Abby over to her father. “I’m with Javy…I’m gonna enjoy working with these two to turn that blond hair grey.”

“Sure, Rooster,” Jake laughed, cradling Abby to his chest as he waved them off. “Whatever you say.”

Clifton, Texas, Now

Bright sunlight streamed in through the small gap in the purple curtains, slicing across Abby’s face as she yawned and stretched before sitting up.

It took her a moment to remember where she was. The furniture in her bedroom was supposed to be walnut, not grey. Her window was certainly not east facing, and she did not have that many plaid shirts hanging in her closet. It was only when she heard Rooster’s heavy footsteps above her that she remembered. She was home, technically. Home in Texas, with her father and her uncles, as she had been for the past few days.

Abby’s cheeks ached as a wide smile tugged at her lips. The last few days had been so wonderful. Her dad was everything she ever could have dreamed and more. She’d spent the previous day just hanging out with him in the ranch office, eating sandwiches that Rooster had made for lunch and making each other laugh. The day before that, she’d tagged along with her dad to one of Javy’s football practices. She may not completely understand football yet, but she’d had a great time watching her dad and Javy coach the team of high school players. Every night, she hung out in the kitchen with Rooster, helping him make dinner and prep lunches for the ranch staff and the guests staying in the cabins. Each day had been better than the last, and she couldn’t wait to see how the rest of the week played out.

That day, she knew, would be the best day of all. Her dad had promised to take her out on a trail ride through the forest that bordered one side of the property. He had said that he had something important to talk to her about, and that phrase had sent her heart racing. She didn’t think that he knew about the swap (mostly because Charlie had reassured her in a late-night call that nothing about her dad’s behaviour seemed out of place), but she wondered if maybe he would tell her about her mom and sister. Maybe he was going to share the news that she and Charlie had been waiting to hear from their parents.

Anxious to hear whatever it was that her dad needed to talk to her about, Abby raced to get ready and made her way downstairs, only pausing when she heard an unfamiliar voice in the kitchen.

“But sugar…”

“I know, baby, I’m sorry. But I promised that I’d take Charlie out on a ride today, and I swear, I’m going to tell her today.”

“That’s what you said yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that,” a high pitched, southern drawl responded, and Abby poked her head around the corner to sneak a peek at whoever was speaking. All she could see was her father, his hands cradling the hips of a tiny woman with bleach blond hair and painted on blue jeans.

“I know, baby,” Jake sighed. “I planned on telling her last night, but she passed out early. And I was definitely going to tell her about you the day before that, but Javy waylaid me and invited us to football practice. Rooster’s been keeping her busy in the kitchen after work too, so it’s been hard to get a moment alone with her.”

“Hard to get a moment alone with your own daughter? In your own house? On your own property?” The pout was clear in the woman’s voice.

“Savannah, don’t start,” Jake sighed again, removing his hands from her hips and turning. Abby pulled her head back around the corner before he could spot her. “You know that Rooster, Javy, and I own the place together. And she’s known them since she was born, so they’re as entitled to spend time with her as I am, especially when she wants to spend time with them.”

“I’m sorry, sugar. I’m just so excited for her to know.”

“I know, baby. Me too. I’ll tell her today, I promise.”

Abby poked her head back around the corner in time to see Jake kiss Savannah, and she felt her heart sink.

Turning on her heel, her feet pounded up the stairs and she launched herself onto her bed, scrambling for her cell phone.

A: Does dad have a girlfriend?

The answer came almost immediately.

C: LOL no he’s got no game

C: Why??? 👀

A: Because there’s a random blond lady hanging out in the kitchen and he’s calling her baby

C: You sure it’s him and not Rooster?

C: Uncle Roo has lots of hookups 🤢

A: Pretty sure I know what he looks like, thanks 🙄

C: You didn’t until a couple of weeks ago, smartypants

A: Thanks for the reminder

A: Are you sure he doesn’t have a girlfriend?

A: He wants to talk to me about something

A: What if it’s her?

A: Charlie?

C: Sorry, gotta go! Mom’s taking me to one of her book signings, and then we’re going to dinner and a show! Good luck!

Abby threw her phone onto the mattress and groaned, watching it bounce.

“Super helpful, sis…” she muttered, burying her head in her hands.

Her dad wanted to talk to her about something, and that something seemed to be a pretty, tiny woman with a grating voice. And, for all of Charlie’s reassurance, they had seemed pretty friendly and familiar with each other in the kitchen. The memory made her stomach churn.

What if he wanted to tell her that he was dating this Savannah lady? What would that do to their plan to make their parents see each other again? They had always known that their parents getting back together was a long shot, but they had hoped. And what if Savannah didn’t want her dad to change the current custody arrangement? What would they do then?

Abby felt her heart crack a little in her chest. She couldn’t imagine going back to the way things had been before, not now that she’d gotten a chance to love her dad and be loved by him in return. Not now that she’d gotten to cook with Rooster and coach with Javy and watch the three men barbecue while she swam in the pool. It was both fresh and familiar, terrifyingly new and heartwarmingly recognizable. She couldn’t go back to live in London, no matter how much she loved it, not when she knew that Seresin Ranch was waiting for her in Texas.

But what if her dad decided that he wanted Savannah more than he wanted her? It would be too much for her to bear.

Abby shook her head. No. That wouldn’t happen. No matter what happened, or why their mom decided to take her, and their dad decided to take Charlie, her dad loved her. She knew that as surely as she knew her own name. Once her dad found out that it was her, not Charlie, he’d want to make sure he saw them both an equal amount of time. He just had to.

A playful knock sounded against her door and her dad stuck his head inside.

“Hey, punk,” he grinned, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepening into crevices that spoke of a lifetime of joy. “You ready to go?”

She grinned back at him, the burden on her heart lifting instantly. Her dad loved her. If she was sure of anything at all, it was of that.

“Yeah, dad. I’m ready.”

Her backpack weighed down with sandwiches, apples, carrots, and enough water to feed a small army, Abby trekked into the stable, where Charlie’s paint mare, Lovebug, was standing, already tacked up. Her dad’s horse, a large grey gelding named Firewall, stood behind her as Jake finished cinching up his saddle.

“Hey, Charlie-girl, you all ready?” he called out, patting Firewall’s flank.

“Yeah, dad. Just give me a second!”

“More than a second, you two,” Rooster called, strolling in behind her. “Dude, there’s an issue with the AC unit in cabin 5. You want me to handle it like normal?”

“Cabin 5? You mean the same cabin that’s been giving us holy hell since they got here?”

Rooster nodded, a large hand reaching out to ruffle her braided hair as he passed her. “That’s the one.”

Jake sighed and rubbed at his forehead under the brim of his white cowboy hat. “Nah, shoot Toni a text and let her know to head in there and double check it. If there’s no issue, she can read them the riot act about wasting our time.”

Rooster grinned. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”

Abby tuned out their conversation as she slowly approached Lovebug. According to Charlie, the mare was an easy ride, but loyal as all get out to Charlie, never allowing anyone else to mount her. Charlie had gotten her as a gift for her fifth birthday and the mare hadn’t allowed another rider since. Hopefully she looked and smelled enough like Charlie to be able to fool the mare.

“Hey Lovey…” Abby murmured; her eyes lowered as she held one hand out for the mare to sniff. “Easy girl…please let this work…”

The mare’s eyes widened, and her nostrils flared as she anxiously pawed at the soft stable floors and whinnied, tossing her head back and retreating as far as she could, almost bumping Firewall.

“Whoa!”

“What the hell?”

Jake grabbed Firewall’s reins as he surged backwards to grab Firewall’s reins before he could retreat too far. Rooster leapt forward to grab Lovebug’s reins, easing her head down and petting her muzzle gently.

“Charlie, are you okay?” Jake called, clipping Firewall onto a long lead attached to the wall so he wouldn’t wander.

“Y-yeah…I’m okay,” Abby replied softly as her heart sank. She’d known that tricking Charlie’s horse was going to be one of the more difficult parts of their plan, but she’d never thought that the horse would react like that to her. If she couldn’t get Lovebug on her side, their plan was as good as done.

Rooster clipped Lovebug onto the wall and stared between horse and would-be rider curiously. “I’ve never seen her react to you that way before, kid. Anyone else, sure. But not you.”

“M-maybe she smells Champ on me,” she offered weakly, remembering how Charlie had taken a shine to the palomino at camp. “I…I don’t think I’ve washed this shirt since coming back from camp.”

Jake approached, cautiously patting Lovebug on her withers as he passed her. “Could be. Six weeks is also a long time for her not to see you. Maybe she’s trying to readjust. She’s always been a sensitive horse. Here…let’s try again.”

Calmly, Jake took Abby’s hand in his and slowly approached the mare, extending their hands for her to smell. Cramming her other hand in her pocket, Abby anxiously crossed her fingers and held her breath.

With a twitch and a nervous tapping on the floor, Lovebug extended her graceful neck and sniffed the tips of Abby’s fingers. After a tense minute, Lovebug released a long, almost weary sigh and nibbled on Abby’s fingertips with her velvety lips.

“There,” Jake said happily, releasing Abby after gently squeezing her shoulder. “She just needed a minute to forgive you for leaving her for six weeks.”

“Yeah…” Rooster murmured, staring at Abby and Lovebug with a piercing gaze. “I guess that’s it.”

“Thanks for the assist, Rooster,” Jake called over his shoulder, unclipping Firewall and leading him out into the bright sunlight. “We’ll see you around noon, alright?”

“Bye Uncle Roo,” Abby waved timidly, all too aware of the way his heavy gaze rested on her.

The green grass swayed in the cool summer breeze as the horses strolled among the trees, birds singing a sweet song as they flitted from branch to branch.

Everything was perfect…or it would have been if not for the burden on Abby’s mind. The image of her dad kissing that blond lady was running through her mind on a loop, burning itself behind her retinas, churning the scarce remains of her breakfast in her stomach.

“You okay over there, Charlie girl?”

Abby glanced quickly at her dad before turning her eyes back down to the pommel of her saddle. She’d been grateful that the trail was wide enough to ride side by side when they’d set out, but now she was wishing that it was narrower.

“Yeah,” she sighed quietly. “Why?”

“You’re never this quiet on a trail ride. Usually, you’re talking my ear off about something or another. That’s kinda why I wanted to go on this ride with you. Rooster and Javy have kind of been monopolizing your time since you got back from camp. I wanted some daddy-daughter time before you go back to school and realize how uncool your old man is.”

“I thought you said you were always cool,” she sniffed.

“Oh, I am,” Jake grinned at her. “I’m very cool. But 12-year-old girls don’t always recognize that.”

“I’m not 12 yet,” she mumbled.

“Trust me, I know and I’m very grateful for that. You turning 12…” Jake sighed. “I can feel the grey hair popping up.”

When she didn’t laugh at his joke, they lapsed into silence. All that had happened that morning had left a sour taste in her mouth and, try as she might, she couldn’t seem to shake it.

It’s not that she didn’t want her dad to be happy. She did, just like she’d always wanted her mom to be happy. But she couldn’t help feeling like she’d just gotten her dad back, that her dad owed it to her and Charlie to give their mom a chance. They deserved to be a family, especially after the almost 12 years of not even knowing about the very existence of the other half of their family.

“Do you remember the day I was born?” she asked suddenly, looking over at him.

“Of course I do, darlin’. Hard to forget the best day of my life.”

“Then you remember my mom?”

Jake reined Firewall in sharply, urging his horse to a stop as he stared at her. “Charlie, of course I do. Where is this coming from?”

“You never talk about her,” she replied simply. “I’m almost 12, dad. I think I deserve to know about the woman who gave birth to me.” She watched as his Adam’s apple worked in his throat, his eyes skimming over the terrain, the sky, anywhere but over in her direction. “What, was she not a good person? A one-night stand? What?” she pushed, knowing none of it was true but the image of Savannah dancing in her mind was turning her anxiousness into anger.

“Charlie, your mom…” Jake sighed, his free hand rubbing at his eyes under the brim of his Stetson as he lapsed back into silence. Abby clenched the reins in her hand tightly as the silence dragged on, but she refused to push. Even though it had only been a few days, she knew Jake well enough to know that he would fight back when he felt cornered. It was the military man inside him, the pilot who knew how to stay on objective, and if his objective was to keep his daughter in the dark, Abby knew that not even God himself would be able to convince Jake to change directive.

After what felt like hours, she peeked over at her father to find him staring down at the reins in his hand as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. He looked…old. Now, Jake Seresin rarely looked his age; the deepening lines near his mouth and eyes, and the sparse sparkle of grey that decorated his thick hair and trim beard like tinsel being the only things that really gave the impression that Jake Seresin was anything other than eternally young. Charlie had shown her photos of her father in his flight suit, in his dress whites, in his khaki uniform, and the man in front of her looked like a shadow of that man. He wore no confident smile, no cocky raised eyebrow, no green eyes sparkling with a challenge. He just looked…sad, and Abby felt the last smoldering ashes of her anger sizzle out.

Reaching out carefully, she grabbed her dad’s wrist, and he looked up in surprise, like he’d forgotten she was there.

“Never mind,” she whispered. “I…I’m sorry.”

Before her eyes, her father transformed, building a cocky smile and heaving it into place. “Don’t be sorry, punk. You’re allowed to be interested in your mom. But right now, all you need to know is that she loved you something fierce and that things between me and her just…didn’t work out. Boring adult stuff that you don’t need to worry about, alright?”

Abby sighed. “Alright. Thanks, dad.”

And suddenly, he looked like he was on the right side of ageless again, flipping his grip to squeeze her hand. “Hey…I know I should tell you about her, and I promise I will eventually because you deserve to know. But for now, don’t worry about it, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you.”

He squeezed her hand once more before releasing it and urging Firewall forward, Lovebug following suit easily.

“There is something we do need to talk about though,” Jake added in a quiet voice as they crested the ridge they were climbing and came to a beautiful lookout, the ranch and all its grounds laid out below them.

Abby’s blood froze in her veins even as the sun shone down upon them, and the memory of the conversation in the kitchen hit her full force. Savannah had been pushing her dad to talk to her about something, something important, something that left a dark feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it since you got home, but you’re a pretty popular kid around here.” Jake sighed. “Listen, Charlie girl, you know you’ll always be my girl, but…I mean, it happened pretty quickly, so it’s not like I meant to keep it from you…I just…”

Blinking against the harsh sunlight, Abby zeroed in on a truck just pulling into the ranch and the words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them.

“Uncle Javy’s back from practice! Race you to him!”

Before Jake could react, Abby kicked Lovebug into action and the mare surged forward, following the steadily declining path down the ridge back to the ranch.

“Charlie!”

She could hear the rapid hoofbeats of Firewall as he galloped after them, but she didn’t slow or turn to look where her father was. Ducking low on Lovebug’s neck, she urged the mare even faster, half wishing she could run her all the way back to London and her mother’s loving arms. She had been so deliriously happy the past few days, getting to know Seresin Ranch and the men who ran it, the men who were her family by birth. But now, with this Savannah person encroaching on her newfound happiness, she found that she missed her home more than ever. She wanted both worlds, Texas and London, her mom and her dad, and she didn’t want to share it with anyone but Charlie.

So, they ran, each hoofbeat bringing her closer and closer to the sanctuary she had come to call home.

After years of ranch living, Lovebug seemed to know the unwritten rules of the land and slowed to a canter, then a trot, and finally to a walk as they passed by the paddocks and came to a stop beside a red truck branded with the Seresin Ranch logo, Javy pulling a gym bag from the bed as they finally came to a stop.

“Whoa, girlie! Where’s the fire?” Javy exclaimed as she dismounted and bounced towards him, all too aware of the cantering hoofbeats following her.

“Nothing, Javy! How was practice? Do you need a hand with your bag? Do—”

“Charlotte Delta Seresin, what the hell was that?” Jake huffed as he hopped down from Firewall.

Abby felt herself flush. “I…I saw Javy, and—”

“I know, but I was trying to talk to you!” Jake sighed, handing Firewall’s reins to a ranch hand who had scurried out of the stable. “I’ve been trying to talk to you since you got home, but we keep getting interrupted. Baby, this is important.”

Javy groaned. “Jake, man, I told you that—”

“Coyote, all due respect, I’ve heard your opinion on the matter, but this is between me and my daughter,” Jake shot a look at his wingman, a look that clearly told Javy to stay out of it, but Javy refused.

“I know, man, but—”

“What on earth is goin’ on out here?” a sugary sweet voice called from the back door of the ranch house, and Abby watched as both her father and Javy bit back a groan.

“Can’t a man have five minutes of privacy around here?” she heard Jake mutter to himself before turning and pasting a wide smile onto his face. “Nothing, Savannah. I was just trying to talk to Charlie when she spotted Javy.”

“You mean you still haven’t talked to her?” Savannah pouted as she crossed the yard to stand a few feet away from them. “Sugar, you promised…”

Abby bit back a giggle as Javy rolled his eyes behind her back.

“Savannah, I know I promised, but this is a delicate situation and I want to ease my daughter into it.”

“Why is my kitchen a mess?” Rooster hollered, stomping across the yard to join the mini congregation that had now formed.

Jake rolled his head and groaned. “Five minutes…I swear, all I need is five minutes.”

“Oh, sorry, Brad,” Savannah smiled saccharinely at him. “I was just bakin’ a cake to celebrate my welcome into the family.”

“It’s Bradley. Brad-ley.”

“Savannah…” Jake hissed in warning, his eyes flashing.

“I’m sorry, Jakey, but I’m just so excited to be marrying you!”

In an instant, everything seemed to freeze. Abby could see her Javy moving, could see her father’s lips moving as he spoke to Savannah, but it all seemed to be in slow motion.

She had expected to learn about a relationship, to have her father come to her about the new girl he was seeing and discussing it with her. But marriage? Her stomach churned and her vision tunneled, red seeping in on the edges of the landscape. Sound returned with a roar, and she found her lips moving.

“Marrying you?” she was finally able to choke out. “You’re getting married?”

Jake sighed and turned his back on Savannah, who was still smiling despite the dressing down she had surely received from Jake.

“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but…yes. Savannah and I are getting married.” He reached a hand towards her with a bittersweet smile.

Every muscle in her body trembling, she stepped back from her father. “How could you?” she whispered.

Jake’s eyes slid closed, and he crouched down to her level. “Charlie, I know this will be an adjustment, but—”

“An adjustment?” she barked out a laugh. “You think that this is an adjustment? Springing some random woman on me and saying she’s going to be your wife?”

“And your stepmother, honey,” Savannah added, smiling brightly at her from over Jake’s shoulder.

“Like hell you will be!” she snapped, the slight British lilt to her natural voice almost slipping through the cracks. “You won’t even tell me about my real mom, but you think that you can just shove whatever woman looks your way into her spot in my life? That’s crap!” Abby dashed her eyes before stepping back again. “Is she even old enough to be my stepmom? Because she looks like she would’ve been a kid herself when I was born!”

Javy and Rooster both ducked their heads, their shoulders shaking slightly, but Abby could take no joy in their amusement, not with the betrayal stinging in her heart and the look on her father’s face.

“Charlotte Delta Seresin, I taught you better than to speak to me like that,” her father snapped, raising himself up to his full height and staring her down, shaking off Savannah’s hand as she tried to grab his arm.

“You didn’t—” Abby cut herself off before the rest of her sentence could escape. “You didn’t raise me at all.” That’s what she had wanted to say. This man, the man she had wanted to meet for her entire life, hadn’t raised her at all, either by accident or by design. He had left her and her mom behind, taken Charlie, and never looked back. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. “You didn’t think about me at all, dad,” she whispered, tears choking back any other words she may have wanted to share before she turned and fled, racing towards the stables.

Jake stepped forward, ready to chase after her, his heart sinking in his chest, but a firm hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Just leave her be, man,” Rooster sighed, his eyes following his niece over the landscape. “She’ll come around.”

“Will she?” Javy scoffed. “Way to break the news, man.”

“I…I should talk to her,” Jake murmured, all too aware of Savannah retreating back into the house. “I should explain.”

“Let me talk to her first,” Rooster offered. “Let me test the waters before you boil yourself alive.”

Running a hand over the back of his neck, Jake finally nodded. “Alright. Thanks, man.”

“Don’t thank me, man. Not yet.”

Abby huddled in the office in the stable, the door locked tight against her and the outside world. A wave of shame washed over her as she remembered how she had spoken to her father. She never spoke to any adult that way, her mum had taught her better. Her mum…

Abby’s heart clenched with homesickness. She ached for her mother’s arms to wrap around her, for the sound of her Uncle Bob’s laugh or Auntie Nat’s teasing.

She fumbled for her cell phone, tugging it clumsily out of her pocket before opening the little green app and dialing the now familiar long-distance number.

“Hello?”

“Dad’s getting married!” she nearly shouted down the receiver, despair coating every sound she uttered. “He got engaged to some blond woman who looks like she’s half his age!”

“Abby?” Charlie yawned. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you! The blond woman from this morning is wearing a rock the size of my head and hanging off of dad! She said that they’re getting married, and he confirmed it!”

“Wh…what? No! It…it’s not possible!”

“Except that it is! He told me it was happening whether I liked it or not!” Silence greeted her claim, and she felt that red hot rage start to creep in again. “Would you say something, please?”

“What do you want me to say, Abby?” Charlie whispered, and Abby could hear the tears in her voice. “Dad’s getting married, and he didn’t bother to even introduce her to me.”

Abby sighed, the anger dissipating as quickly as it came on. “I know…”

“But he loves mom!” Charlie groaned. “I know he does! You don’t shut down that often about a person if you don’t care about them!”

“He shut down on me today too,” Abby agreed. “But it’s not like I can just tell him that he loves her. He would never go for that.”

“Can you find something to prove it?” Charlie’s desperation was clear. “Something to remind him?”

“Like what?”

“I dunno…a photo? Their marriage license? Anything that might remind him of her?”

“Where would I even find something like that?”

“In the office in the stable.”

Abby looked around. “I’m there right now, I don’t see anything.”

“In the safe under his desk. Or in the filing cabinet. I don’t know the code to the safe or where he keeps the key to the cabinet though.”

Abby sighed. “I’ll figure it out. I’ll let you know what I find.”

“Thanks…I’m sorry you have to deal with that while I’m having fun with mum.”

“It’s okay. Do…do you think mum still loves dad?”

“Abby, all her adult books are about a military guy falling in love with the woman of his dreams and the obstacles that keep them apart.” Abby could practically hear the eye roll in her sister’s voice. “She either loves him or she doesn’t know what else to write about.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I…I don’t want to think about that. Find proof. I’ll find proof too. Then we’ll tell them about the switch.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good luck.”

“You too,” Abby hung up the phone with a sigh before turning to face the little black safe that was tucked under her father’s desk.

“Alright, you…what could your combination be?”

She cycled through the obvious choices first: Jake’s birthday, her and Charlie’s birthday, her father’s military employee number, her great-grandfather’s number. With a wish in her heart, she even tried her mother’s birthday, but no such luck. So, she tried less obvious combinations. Javy’s birthday was a no-go, as was Rooster’s. Her grandmother and grandfather were also a bust. And it turned out that Jake Seresin was not the type of guy to use 1-2-3-4-5-6 as his combination.

“C’mon…c’mon, what are you?” Abby grumbled.

“Try 02-14-19.”

The sudden voice made her shriek and lurch away from the safe, turning to see her uncle chuckling from the doorway.

“Uncle Roo…you frightened me!”

“I frightened you, huh?” He sauntered forward, kicking the door shut behind him. “See, two months ago you would have said ‘You scared the crap out of me’ or ‘I’m gonna get you back for that, Chicken!’ Not, you frightened me.” He perched himself on the edge of the desk. “My girl Charlie doesn’t talk like that. She knows the words, smart as a whip that kid is, but being around a bunch of air jockeys on a ranch didn’t exactly lend itself to 20-point words like frighten.”

She felt the blood rush to her cheeks. “W-what do you mean? I’m Charlie. Did you hit your head or something?”

“See, now that is something Charlie would say. You almost had me. But Lovebug doesn’t shy away from Charlie. Never has, never will. And Javy could almost make Charlie an assistant coach with how much she helps him out with his playbook…but not you. You don’t seem to know the first thing about football.” He fixed her with a stern look. “You’re not Charlie…are you, Abby?”

The dam inside her—the one that had been holding back all her fears and anger about her father’s surprise engagement, and the ache of her homesickness—broke and the tears burst forth. Quickly, she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

She heard a heavy sigh before she was wrapped in a hug, strong arms pulling her against a lean body.

“S’alright, kid. I’m not gonna tell anyone.”

She pulled back slightly, trying to meet Rooster’s eyes but he kept them firmly on the ceiling. “R-really?”

He shrugged. “I figure you and Charlie have your reasons for this insane switch. Where the hell did you two meet, anyway?”

“Camp…” she hiccupped. “P-Penny invited both of us at the same time.”

Rooster sighed, but there was the slight twang of a chuckle hidden inside it. “Yeah, that sounds like Penny. She was pretty pushy about me mentioning the camp to your dad. Shoulda known she was pulling a Maverick level stunt.”

“Y-you’re not mad?”

“Nah…” he shrugged, releasing her and sitting back on the edge of the desk again while Abby straightened in the desk chair. “Just, tell me one thing. Is Charlie okay?”

Abby nodded. “She’s in London with my mum, Uncle Bob and Auntie Nat. She’s having a grand time.”

Rooster nodded thoughtfully. “So, what is the plan?”

Abby bit her lip. “Get to know our other parent, tell them about the switch at the end of the week, force them to meet to switch us back, and have them fall in love with each other again so that we don’t have to live with an ocean in between us again?”

Rooster sighed; his eyes drifting shut as his head rolled back. “Jesus…”

“Are…are you going to tell dad?”

She held her breath as his eyes opened again, this time turning to her with a fixed determination that sent a shiver down her spine.

“No…I’m not.”

“Really? But…why?”

Rooster shrugged. “One, because making your dad’s life a living hell is still one of the greatest pleasures of my life. Two, I always thought that the way your parents handled the divorce was wrong. Hell, I think they never should have gotten divorced at all. And three, Savannah pisses me off and I don’t think I’ll be able to keep living here if your dad actually goes through with it.”

“So…what does that mean for me?”

“It means, I’m gonna help you. And so will Javy.”

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#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #parent trap au #glen powell #as you wish fic #jake hangman fic #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman imagine #jake hangman x you

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flowerandblood · 17 days

Text

The Fall from the Heavens (29)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: sex content, sexual tension, smut, angst, swearing ]

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She was awakened by the touch of his hand − his fingers combed lazily through her hair making a pleasant, hot sensation ripple through her stomach. Although she knew he always got up earlier than her, this time he stayed in bed, her body, for some reason she didn't understand, snuggled into his chest.

She felt a pinch in her heart at the thought that some part of her wanted to move away from him and another part of her just wanted him to carry on, so she decided not to open her eyes, pretending she was still asleep.

She felt him looking at her − his lips once in a while placed a soft, warm kiss on the top of her head, from which she felt a pleasant sensation in her heart.

She felt like begging him to stay in bed with her all day, to make love to her, but she knew she couldn't to this.

She didn't want him to think that what he had done, what he had hidden from her, she could forget and forgive with such ease.

"− if that's your wish, we can stay like this all day −" He whispered softly, running his fingertips over her bare neck, making her shiver.

She felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he knew her so well, that he was perfectly capable of recognizing that she was awake, that she was faking it. She opened her eyes and rose without a word, his arm immediately placed around her waist, trying to stop her.

"− my love −"

"− you promised me −"

She heard him let out a quiet breath and let her go, resigned, sinking back onto the sheets, burying his face in his hands. She got out of bed and called for her maidservant, feeling that if she did not disperse her thoughts she would cry again.

They ate their morning meal in silence and although she saw that he looked at her once in a while, she did not reciprocate the gaze.

"− has he tried to touch you before? − your brother-cunt, I mean −" He added mischievously, but pressed his lips together when she threw him a tired look full of disapproval.

"− no − I've already explained it to you − the grief and humiliation took his mind away −"

"− he was always mocking you to please Aegon − Baela must be delighted with how faithful he is −" He said with amusement mixed with mockery, turning his head away.

"− apparently we are both fortunate in terms of faithful men − don't you think so, husband? −" She asked him coldly; he gave her a quick, horrified look and swallowed hard, knowing full well what she was implying.

"− I have never betrayed you − not in this way −"

"− and a woman in a brothel? −" She asked matter-of-factly, thinking with surprise that she felt nothing when she said those words. She saw that he turned pale at the mere mention and furrowed his brow.

"− I've already said it − it didn't come to anything − it was not my desire to sink between the thighs of a whore that hundreds of men already had, but Aegon wouldn't listen to me −" He muttered, clearly embarrassed and irritated that she had brought up the subject again.

"− what happened there? −"

Her uncle closed his eye and hid his face in his hand, clearly losing patience.

"− why do you want to discuss it now? −"

"− I thought you wanted to be honest with me, uncle − as I can see, nothing has changed −" She said dispassionately, rising from her seat, heading towards the door. She heard him draw in a loud breath and move restlessly in his chair.

"− I − fuck − she told me − she told me that Aegon paid her for my fulfilment − I didn't want − I didn't want to lie with her, so she just put her hand in my breeches −" He muttered, stammering. She looked over her shoulder at him − his head was dropped in shame, his jaw clenched, his lower lip quivering.

"− did you wish for this? −" She asked.

She saw that he swallowed hard, looking dully at his plate.

"− …no −" He whispered.

Something in the way he looked, in that confession made her feel a need to comfort him.

He threw her a surprised, horrified look, tense as she turned back and approached him slowly. He stared at her from below, unsure of what she was trying to do − her hand sunk into his hair, pressing his face into her stomach.

She pressed her lips together as his hands tentatively clenched on the material of her gown, his nose snuggling into her flesh as if seeking refuge.

"− I was afraid that she would have told Aegon if I − that the whole of King's Landing −" He muttered in a breaking voice, as if only now did he truly understand what had happened then.

"− shhh −" She hushed him, stroking his hair tenderly and calmly, recognising that despite her anger and grief, he deserved her to show him her understanding on the matter.

She didn't want to reject him, she just wanted him to understand his mistakes.

"− are you disgusted with me? −" He asked in a trembling voice, to which she responded with a quiet, tired sigh.

"− no − it is the woman who disgusts me − what would you think of me if I told you that when I was so young, a grown man touched me between my thighs despite my pleas? − would you have been disgusted with me? −" She asked quietly; she heard him swallow hard at the thought, his fingers digging harder into the fabric of her gown.

"− I would have killed him with my own hands − I would have brought you his head −" He hissed in a way from which, for some reason, she felt not discomfort but pride.

"− and I will bring it to you −" He began, and she blinked, looking at him surprised, not understanding what he meant. When he lifted his gaze to her, she froze, seeing something in his eye that she knew perfectly well.

"− I will bring you the head of Larys Strong − I am returning to King's Landing −"

His gaze went from intense and threatening to surprised and frightened as she let go of him immediately, turning pale as she took a few steps back, breathing heavily through her mouth.

I am returning to King's Landing.

"− you want to abandon me −" She muttered with regret and disbelief feeling her whole body was trembling − he stood up from his seat, horrified at how she reacted, shaking his head.

"− no − no, I want to make sure that no one dares to act behind my back anymore − that what happened will never happen again − I need to speak with my brother −"

She looked away, embracing herself tightly with her arms, trying not to cry, trying to maintain a semblance of indifference as the cold sweat of disappointment, fear and despair ran down her spine.

"− fly with me − this time of your own free will −"

"− no −" She declared immediately, startling him. "− this is the only place where I'm safe − the only place where I'm not afraid for my life − don't expect me to go back to my golden cage −"

He looked at her dully, with a disappointment mixed with sadness. He swallowed loudly and looked to the side, licking his lower lip with his tongue.

"− I see − so I'll do what is necessary and return here − I can't predict when that will happen −" He replied coolly in a way from which she felt her heart squeeze.

She pressed her lips together in rage as she felt involuntary warm tears one by one begin to run down her cheeks and hid her face in her hands as she finally burst into a helpless, loud sob.

He drew in the air loudly, not knowing what to do − she heard his footsteps, his strong arms embraced her, hugging her into his leather tunic. She snuggled into him, tightening her fingers on the material of it, feeling hot in her lower abdomen as his familiar, longed-for scent filled her nostrils.

"− will you betray me again? − will you stab a dagger into my heart? −" She mumbled in a quivering, breaking voice, imagining that he had given up once and for all, that he had decided that she was not worth such an agony, such an effort, such a sacrifice.

She heard him huff, sighing impatiently − he shook her body as if he wanted her to wake up.

"− what are you saying? − I'm doing all this for you − only for you −" He exhaled, uttering the last sentence while pressing his lips to her ear, his hot breath enveloping her cheek. She turned her face towards him and the tips of their noses touched − they stared at each other for a moment, his thumb running tenderly over the soft, hot skin of her face.

"− let me −"

She didn't object as his arms embraced her hips and lifted her up, as he headed to the bed with her, as he laid her gently on the sheets − he watched her face with his lips parted in desire as his trembling hands uncertainly lifted the material of her gown up, exposing her bare thighs.

She heard only the rustling of the material of his breeches before they both sighed − he took his swollen, long manhood in his hand and guided its pink, fat head to her slit, pushing against it, stretching her folds to the sides.

Though he didn't even touch her, her moist, puffy walls welcomed him easily as he slid deeper into her with a soft, slow, tender thrust of his hips.

He leaned over her, nuzzling his face into her cheek − she could feel his ragged, excited, hot breath enveloping her face.

"− I love you − I love doing this to you − I love feeling you − your warm, tight insides − your scent − gods, Rhaenys −" He breathed out, beginning to move inside her, with the gentle rocking of his hips slamming his cock into her again and again with the quiet click of their shared wetness.

She felt tears of emotion, pain, affection and fear run down from the corners of her eyes onto the pillow under her head, her fingers tightening on the material of his tunic.

"− uncle −" She mumbled helplessly like a small child − she felt his manhood pulsate hard inside her, felt his fleshy, swollen lips pressed against her cheek placing wet, hot kisses on it, his thrusts deeper, surer and faster, teasing a wonderful spot deep inside her.

"− I'm here − your husband is by your side −" He whispered, his words, his pushes, his hands stroking her cheeks and thighs so tender, so warm, that she gave herself to him completely, spreading her legs wider, letting him sink deeper into her with his low groan of pleasure.

Never had they made love so quietly, so close together, so helpless and vulnerable, never had she felt so frightened and so safe at the same time, his scent, his breath, the fact that she felt him deep inside her soothed her nerves.

"− don't leave −" She mewled, cuddling his body into hers, listening to the slickness of their naked bodies, the wonderful, tickling heat intensifying in her lower abdomen, her nipples under her gown growing hard and sensitive, her lips parted wide as his thighs slapped against her buttocks again and again.

"− I'll come back to you − I promise − I promise −" He exhaled, his lips, his tongue clinging to hers in sticky, dirty, loud kisses from which her fleshy muscles clenched around him, sucking him inside, both of them soaking wet from her moisture.

"− your seed − I want it inside me, uncle −" She mewled throwing her head back, feeling the tension inside her reach its peak, her hips responding greedily to his thrusts − he sighed loudly, surprised, rooting into her at last with all his might, pressing her body against the bed, which began to creak loudly beneath them.

"− I know − 'm close − Rhaenys − fuck-fuck-fuckkk −" He groaned, closing his eye, his hands finding hers and intertwining their fingers as his warm spend filled her womb, his lips parted in relief and pleasure. He pressed his face into the hollow of her neck not slowing down his pace, giving her what she needed until she came.

She reached her peak feeling it, clenching her fingers against his, moaning helplessly beneath him, trying to calm the convulsions of her body as his hips still rocked deep inside her for a moment longer.

"− Rhaenys − Rhaenys −"

They lay like this in silence, holding hands, trying to calm their shaky breaths, his manhood still pulsing inside her for a while, soft and warm.

She thought that never before had she felt so secure, so fulfilled as she did now, with him, with this man.

She wasn't sure where her body ended and his began − it seemed to her that they intertwined like vines and had long since become one.

She had always known that something was missing in her without him.

A single, solitary tear ran down the side of her face at the thought that he would no longer be with her.

He felt it, felt the moisture on her cheek and lifted his gaze to her.

"− no − no, my love − shhh −" He hushed her, stroking her hot face with his thumb, wiping a wet trail off it.

He gave her a tender kiss, long and drawn out, the way she had always imagined a man would kiss the woman he loved.

She felt hot in her heart at the thought.

Her mother, on hearing that her uncle intended to return to King's Landing, was not pleased, but neither did she object when she learned her daughter intended to stay by her side. She allowed him to leave; he did not, however, receive a warm farewell and, as she understood, did not expect one at all.

She was the only person to lead him away − the sun shone high in the sky as they approached Vhagar, her gown, his cloak and their hair blowing in the wind. He turned towards her, his hand raised to her face, seeing the sadness painted on it.

"− my wife −" He said quietly and kissed her forehead, like when they were little children.

He did this whenever he wanted to reassure her, when they were alone and he was unable to find the words to give her comfort.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at that thought, that he remembered it, that, like her, he held all those memories deep inside his heart.

"Why can't I have a beautiful hair colour like you, uncle? It's not fair. Many women in the world have dark hair, but not white." She muttered, fiddling with the fabric of her gown as she sat beside him on the wide windowsill in his chamber, a book in his hand.

They spoke of House Targaryen and Old Valyria, reflecting on their trip to Essos and what they wanted to see there first.

She lifted her gaze to him and saw that he was looking at her with his eyes wide open, as if there was something about the subject she had brought up that frightened him for some reason. He grunted quietly and licked his lower lip, swallowing hard, looking away.

"Well…I understand your sadness. But that was heaven's decision." He replied calmly, turning the page, apparently wanting to close the discussion quickly.

"Aren't you disappointed that your future wife doesn't have snow-white hair?" She mumbled in a breaking voice, pressing her lips together, feeling her chubby cheeks turn red from the tears that had welled up under her eyelids.

He looked at her, shocked to hear her question, his lips parted when he saw that she was on the verge of bursting into sobs.

She was afraid she had been a disappointment to him.

"− I − well − I never considered it − I don't feel any disappointment about it − I am fond of your dark, long eyelashes − they make your eyes seem even bigger − your curls are soft to the touch −" He muttered, apparently trying to get anything out of himself and her face lit up with a wide, grateful smile. He looked at her and sighed finally, the corner of his mouth also lifting up lazily.

"− don't think about it −" He hummed, laying his hand on the back of her head and leaned in, placing a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

All she could think about was that, that sunny summer day when his hand dropped as he stepped back and turned, walking towards Vhagar, warm tears of grief, sadness and helplessness running down her cheeks one after another.

For the next few days, she felt as she had for the eight years she had been separated from him.

She locked herself in her chamber, eating almost nothing, reading and reflecting on everything that had happened.

She shuddered when she heard a knock on her door. She wanted to say that she longed to be left alone, but she heard a familiar voice from behind them.

"May I come in?"

Baela.

She swallowed quietly and rose to sit on her bed, sighing.

"Yes."

The door opened and her stepsister stepped inside, closing it behind her, bestowing upon her a calm, warm smile. She walked over to her and sat on the bed beside her, looking down at her hands.

"Did Jace tell you what he did?" She asked uncertainly.

She wanted her brother to admit it himself, to take responsibility for his actions.

He wasn't a little child anymore.

Baela looked at her and snorted.

"Yes. He asked me to apologise to you. He said he was unable to come here to do it himself out of shame. The sight of your uncle took his mind away." She muttered disapprovingly, shaking her head and running her hand over her face. She looked at her finally, concern and compassion in her gaze.

"How do you feel?" She asked quietly, her fingers tentatively reaching out to hers. She squeezed them, wanting to let her understand that her closeness meant a lot to her even though she couldn't express it.

"Empty." She whispered.

Baela pressed her lips together at her words.

"Because he's gone?"

"Yes."

"Is he coming back?"

"That's what he said."

They were silent for a moment, looking towards the window, contemplating.

"What he did…he shocked me. He's obsessed with you."

She furrowed her brow at her words.

"My brother?" She asked uncertainly, frightened by the thought that it might have been worse than she thought.

"Your husband."

She swallowed hard, feeling her heart heat at her words for some reason − she knew her cheeks lit up with a flush of shame at the memory of what he had done in front of them.

"− forgive me − I don't know what got into all of us then − you must have been embarrassed −" She muttered, lowering her gaze. Baela giggled at her words.

"− no, just the opposite − I felt jealous − when he embraced you, when he touched you, he wasn't looking at us anymore − he was looking at you − how madly in love do you have to be with someone to do something like this? −" She asked with amusement.

For some reason her words and light-hearted approach made her feel better. Her fingers clamped tighter on hers.

"I missed you. It's only now that I realised that. You were always so good to me." She mumbled in shame, thinking of how she had never shown her as much warmth as she should have, sunk in her grief and pain.

"You've always been that way towards me too."

She shook her head.

"No. I couldn't let you into my heart. I couldn't −"

"You suffered. I know, you don't have to explain it to me. I never held it against you." She said calmly. As she extended her hand to her, Baela smiled and sighed as if relieved, laying down beside her, pressing her cheek against her breast.

"− what are you going to do with Jace? −" She asked uncertainly, stroking her shoulder, her pleasant floral oils teasing her nose. Baela laughed under her breath.

"− I'll raise him −"

They spent the evening together, conversing about everything and nothing, as if they were trying to recapture lost time. Rhaena eventually joined them, looking for her sister, finally laying down next to them.

They tried to forget, at least for a moment, what was happening around them.

It was as if she had never left Dragonstone.

After a few days, a servant interrupted her morning meal by saying that a message had arrived for her from King's Landing. She blinked, shocked, wondering what it could have been about, convinced that something bad had happened.

She nodded and dismissed the boy, ripping off the lac and unrolling the parchment as soon as he closed the door behind him.

I cannot sleep. When you are not by my side, I have nightmares. I dream that you are dying. In a sleep. In a fire. In childbirth. I think I am losing my mind. Write me immediately when you receive this message that you are alive and safe. Send it to Harrenhal, for there I set out on my mission to end the life of Larys Strong once and for all. You will have his head. Aemond

She swallowed loudly, feeling the rapid pounding of her heart, joy and disbelief, for it was the first time in her life that she was the one to receive a letter from him.

The letter he had written her before he flew to Storm's End had been an act of desperation, but now it was a confession of his free will, a desire to communicate to her what he had felt and experienced during their separation.

She was touched by it.

She immediately sat down at her desk and began to write, not wanting him to wait any longer than necessary for her reply.

I am alive, my husband, and I am in good health. Do not fret, I know I am safe here. I ask you, whatever you intend to do, not to take the life of Alys Rivers. I am owed a debt to her and her death is not my desire. Return to Dragonstone as soon as you can. Rhaenys

She rolled the parchment in her hand and summoned her servant, ordering that the message be sent to Harrenhal and that it be passed directly into her husband's hands.

The next few days passed as she waited for his reply − she feared that something had happened, that her father's brother would realise why he had come there, that he was in danger.

One morning when she got up she simply fainted, her head hitting the table − she lay like that for a long time, unconscious until one of the servants came into her chamber, wanting to help her dress.

Her mother panicked and immediately summoned the maester, ordering him to examine her. When she woke up, she heard her conversation with Daemon, and recognised their voices despite not seeing them.

"Is he absolutely sure?"

"Yes, he had no doubt. It may be a sign, Daemon. I −" Her mother paused, turning towards her, hearing that she was trying to get up.

"− no − no, my love − lie down and rest −" She said with concern, placing her hand on her shoulder, the other fixing a pillow under her head, warmth, tenderness, concern in her eyes.

"− what happened? −" She mumbled, feeling that her head ached badly. Her mother smiled at her in a way that warmed her heart.

"− you are carrying a child inside you −"

246 notes · View notes

squirmhoney · 1 year

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What about daemons daughter from rhea that was living in kings landing bc daemon abandoned her and at driftmark he tries to steal her away to go to dragonstone after she defended aemond and alicent but she runs away to kings landing and years later when they go to defend luke they walk into or hear her and aemond having sex and see that they have kids now and are married, daemon does something to anger her and aemond at the dinner where she wears green and sits next to aemond and maybe jace asks to dance with her and she has a look of disgust on her face constantly

A/N: I felt like these requests were super similar so I put them together. The only thing is I didn’t write everything that was suggested because it just got so long. I hope you’re happy with it. It’s Velaryon reader but still with a relationship with Daemon. Also I age up the characters so they can have so many children as I don’t think of them doing anything until they are 18. Warnings: smut, oral (m and f receiving), squirting. angst. Just lots and lots of smut Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader (niece) x Aemond Targaryen Word count: 7.8k

Master List

In your Abandonment

Abandonment was something you had become accustomed to growing up. First you had been abandoned by your father, being the only other person that knew what truly happened that night on Driftmark. The second time was by the person that you considered to be your second father, as Daemon left you at Kings Landing on a trip he planned for the two of you. You weren't sure which one hurt more, each came so unexpected.

At least when Daemon tricked you into a trip to Kings Landing, he had the decency to look you in the eye when he left you there. Years away from your family gave you time to dwindle on the reason for them leaving you. The one moment that stuck vividly in your mind being the time you defended Aemond on Driftmark, distraught on how he had been mauled by your brothers. Your mother had glared at you, a scowl evident on her lips as she looked at you with pure disgust. That was the first time you had felt a horrible pain, feeling as if a dagger had been shoved into your back and each time something happened it was them twisting it again.

You loved them but over time with not being able to escape the four walls of your dim room in the red keep, you started to despise them. A bile rose to your throat every time you closed your eyes haunted by the memories that were your family. You wept for weeks in that room unable to escape the torment of their voices you heard in your head, feeling your skin crawl as if there very presence was still with you. You had sent letters in the first few months begging for your mother to take you back to Dragon Stone or for them to at least write back to you.

Eventually after not hearing from them within the first year, the mere thought of them became a distant memory.

In your pain you found solace in two people, your uncles.

Aemond was of course drawn to you. How could he not be after you defended him so valiantly when he lost his eye. But after the incident he lost all his confidence and struggled to even talk to you.

It was Aegon that had approached you first, seeing your sad frail figure in the gardens and finding himself stopping as he towered over your frame. He saw something of himself in you that day, or that's at least what you believed, two broken souls neglected by the people meant to love them most.

"A drink?" Aegon asked, swinging the bottle of wine he had stolen in front of your face.

You peered up from your book with your tear stained face and puffy cheeks as you shook your head.

"It helps," Aegon added, taking a swig from the bottle. "Well sometimes."

"I don't think the queen would appreciate me getting drunk with you uncle," you told him, speaking so timidly he almost didn't hear you.

"So formal, call me Aegon. We are practically the same age," he chuckled, taking a seat next to you. "What the queen doesn't know won't hurt her?"

"We are in the gardens, anyone could see us." You looked around, blushing at the indecent thought of drinking your sorrows away with Aegon.

"Well, we can go somewhere private." He wiggled his brows, taking your hand as he pulled you up.

Aegon found peace with you, enjoying your presence every time he felt the pressures of being the eldest son weighing on his shoulders. These times where you both escaped together, you found yourself finding some sort of enjoyment finally not being alone in the Red Keep.

It took Aemond a while to approach you, it only happening when he stumbled on you looking after Aegon in his drunken state.

You hadn't expected out of all the people in Kings Landing, Aemond to be the person that helped you drag Aegon to his rooms that night. While you had gotten tipsy that night, Aegon had got past the point of speech. Both you and Aemond having to drag him through the halls not saying a word to each other until you safely dropped Aegon into his rooms.

"Shall I escort you to your rooms?" Aemond asked, walking over to the door.

"I think I will stay and look after Aegon. I don't want him to choke on his vomit in his sleep," you told him, sitting next to Aegon's laid out body.

"Why are you so kind to him?" Aemond questioned, eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you.

"Aegon has been there for me when no one has," you confessed, the alcohol making your lips loose. "I was alone and Aegon was a friend when no one else was."

"Well if you feel like having another friend, one that doesn't convince you to drown your sorrows but instead to talk about them, you know where to find me." Aemond's hand reached for the door, giving you a small smile as he turned to leave.

"Aemond." You made him halt in his tracks, looking up at him with the deepest sincerity. "Would you stay and be that friend now?"

Aemond nodded, walking back over to the chair opposite the bed. There you spoke, not about everything but finally you felt yourself able to open up about the pain that your family made you feel, finally allowing it to free you in some sort of way.

You never knew when exactly it happened, maybe among the jealousy as the pair of boys fought over you, but you started to fall deeply for them. You confessed your feelings one night, after your name day celebrations. The suitors had been thrown on you, making you feel dizzy after all the dancing and chatter. When you finally escaped to your rooms with Aegon and Aemond, you realised there was no one else you wanted but them. The words spilled from your lips that night and both Aemond and Aegon reassured you with heated kisses and passionate touching as they took you to bed.

You married both of them a few nights later under the moon and the stars. Eventually you fell pregnant with your first child and you had to confess to everyone especially the Queen and King.

While the alliance between you and Aegon was a shock to Alicent's very core, she realised the advantages to it, not that she would ever admit that to you. She wasn't happy that you married the pair of them and did argue that you could only confess to one marriage to the public. Aemond never minded, he knew that he was in your heart constantly and beside you in your bed every night, who cares if people didn't know you were married. The suspicions were there anyway, the servants and knights seeing the way you clung to both of the princes.

You were happy, contended in life.

Until you saw a familiar face walking in the gardens of Kings Landing, one that you didn't think you see for a long time.

"Princess," Lord Vaemond greeted you, bowing slightly as he stopped.

You stood mouth parting as you found no words for a moment. "I'm so sorry Lord Vaemond, I had no idea you were here," you told him, eyes wide as you looked him up and down.

"I'm sorry that you have not been informed. I'm sure you'll be seeing your mother and brothers soon though," he told you, acting as if it was common knowledge.

Your stomach fell into knots as your face dropped slightly but you tried to cover it with a smile. "Important business I assume. I must get back to my husband, please do excuse me Lord Vaemond."

You were furious as you stormed the halls of the Red Keep, your guardsman trying to ask if you were okay but you just waved your hand at him unable to answer.

Once you reached your shared quarters, you were pointed into the direction of your daughters room by Ser Erryk. You nodded and gave him a quick smile before you stepped in. You were quiet as you closed the door behind you, noticing how Aegon read to Daenys, your daughter, a story. Her gentle snores relaxed you as you watched how Aegon pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead before walking over to you.

He grinned widely taking your hand in his as he dragged you out of the room. Aegon could sense your tense body, he had seen all your emotions over the years and could tell how upset you were now. But he didn't dare question it in front of Daenys, not wanting to frighten her.

"My love," Aegon said, wide eyes looking at you with concern. "You seem unwell."

You yanked him into your shared rooms, slamming the door behind you to make sure you had privacy.

"Did you know?" You interrogated him, pushing against his chest with your fists. Your voice laced with venom and anger. "Did you?"

"Know what?" He asked, grabbing your wrists into his hands.

"That my mother is coming because of something with Lord Vaemond," you said, voice dropping at the thought.

Aegon could see the pain and sadness that still lingered there, body trembling and eyes brimmed with tears. "It might of been mentioned in one of the council meetings," Aegon confessed, trying to rack his mind back. "But you know how I don't listen to anything in there. If I had remembered, I would have warned you."

You pulled yourself away from him, shaking your head in disbelief. You felt that dagger back again, twisting it's way in your stomach now as you hauled yourself over a bucket. A sickening taste rose up your throat as you puked into the bucket, collapsing to your knees.

Aegon ran to your side as he stroked your back helping you get everything up. "This stress isn't good for the baby." He turned his head to the door voice shouting now as he called, "I need a Maestor, now."

The door barged open, Aemond sprinting in upon hearing Aegon's voice through the door.

"What is it? What's happened?" Aemond was quick to ask, running to your side.

"She heard her mother is coming and she's worked herself up over it," Aegon told him, still hovering over your frame with deep worry in his eyes.

It wasn't long before a Maestor came, prescribing you some herbal calming tea that could help with the sickness and stress. But he was quick to tell both Aemond and Aegon to get rid of the cause.

Not really much they could do when the cause was your mother.

Aemond slipped into bed beside you, hand resting over your bump as he tried to comfort you. "I'm sorry, I didn't tell you."

You tried to push him away, wanting to be angry with him in the moment. Anger was easier than sadness, the latter just reminded you that you still weren't over the years of abandonment you felt.

"My love," Aemond sighed, pulling your back to his chest. "It is not good for you to shut us out like this. It is okay to be mad at us but please do not bottle up your emotions."

"Talk to us," Aegon chimed in, sliding in in front of you. His hand reached out to cup your face, thumb rubbing against the skin of your cheek.

"You can't make me see them again," you stammered, tears pouring from your eyes as you looked between them. "I won't do it. I wanted to forget about them like they forgot about me. Here is my safe haven and there very presence threatens to destroy that."

Aemond's hand rubbed up and down your arm, trying to soothe your trembling body. "We won't force you to do anything. You can do things when you are ready or not at all."

"The queen will make me see her." You shook your head at the thought, feeling like you were that little girl pleading for her mother to take you back to Dragon Stone. "I just know it."

"I will talk to mother," Aemond said.

Each day passed, your nerves erratic as you practically kept to your rooms scared for the arrival. When you did venture outside your quarters, you'd find yourself jumping into empty closet rooms at the sound of someone walking down the hallway. Your personal guardsman had started to find you very amusing, sometimes even hiding with you not to alert whoever was walking down the hall.

Today it happened on your way to the gardens, hearing the voices of chuckles from the around the corner and you scampered into an empty room. Your personal guardsman caught off guard, didn't follow you this time but did wait outside the door until the coast was clear.

The door opened slightly, Aegon's head poking in with a wide grin.

"What are you doing?" He jested, stepping into the room.

"Hiding," you stated, leaning against some old book shelves. "Clearly."

Aegon poked his head out, pulling someone into the room with him. It was Aemond who was shaking his head with a smile that matched Aegon's as he noticed you.

"This isn't funny," you hissed at them, fingers rubbing at your temples.

"This is kind of funny," Aegon joked, closing the door behind him.

"What's not funny is the stress that you are causing yourself," Aemond said, tutting as he walked up to you. "You are constantly looking over your shoulder paranoid that they will be there."

Aegon's body pressed up against your back while Aemond pressed against your front, both trapping you between them.

"Let us take your mind else where," Aegon suggested, licking at your neck as he started to grope at your ass through your dress.

"In here?" You turned to look at Aegon, only for him to catch your lips with his in a heated kiss. You shifted around, facing Aegon.

"Yes in here," Aemond whispered, fingers undoing the laces of your dress. His mouth hovered over the skin of your neck, making the skin prickle in delight until he finally smothered it in kisses. He started to make a trail, licking and sucking as he peeled your dress off of you, making his way down your back.

As soon as your dress was pooling at your waist, Aegon attacked your breasts, firmly wrapping his lips around your nipple. He used his hand to play with your other tit, pinching at your nipple, massaging the skin of your tit. You whimpered at the feeling, head leaning back into Aemond's shoulder as you did.

Aemond covered your mouth with his own, licking his tongue into your mouth to find yours as he gripped onto the back of your head to deepen the kiss.

It was Aegon that ripped your dress completely off of you, getting frustrated with the material between your bodies. His fingers instantly dove to your cunt, coating his fingers in your slick as he slid it around. He found your clit, pinching it which had you gasping into Aemond's mouth.

"You're so wet for us," Aegon chuckled, fingers finally sliding against where you desperately needed him. He circled your clit, moving slowly as he got you worked up. "Brother, you really should feel how wet she is."

Aemond hummed, hand sliding down as his fingers grazed the skin of your ass before he placed it betweeen your thighs. His fingers prodded at your entrance, teasing you with them. "She is so very wet, so easy for me to slip in." That he did, fingers slipping into your spongy walls with ease as you moaned out at the feeling.

With both of boys working on your cunt, you weren't sure how much longer you'd hold out. Aegon's free hand grabbed the back of your face, yanking you towards him in a heated kiss. His forehead rested against yours when he pulled away, eyes dilated with a deep hunger as he stared at you.

"I want to look upon your face as you cum on our fingers," Aegon confessed, quickening his fingers as they worked against you.

You held Aegon's gaze, as you felt your walls flutter around Aemond's fingers. "Oh heavens," you cried out, cumming hard without warning. Your hand grabbed a hold of Aegon's shoulder, both their bodies holding up as you rode out your orgasm.

"That's it, angel." Aegon's hands slowed down as he brought you in for another kiss.

Aemond pulled his fingers out of you, giving you a soft slap to his ass. "I think she's ready."

Aegon peered at Aemond over your shoulder, snearing at him. "Maybe for you brother."

Aemond proceeded to ignore him, pushing you down by your back, lifting your hips up as he carried you over to a table. He had you kneeling on the table, perfect height as your ass pressed into his crotch. You arched your hips back into him, rubbing your cunt against him and leaving a wet patch on his trousers.

"Needy little thing aren't you," Aemond mocked, grabbing your ass cheeks with his hands. He parts them slightly bending down to lick a stripe against your cunt, humming in delight at the taste. "Tell me, what do you want from me, wife?"

"Fuck me, please," you pleaded, arching your ass back into his face. "I need you."

His hand slapped your ass, soothing it over with a kiss. You heard him undoing his trousers, his cock springing up and hitting your slit. He rubbed it up and down, eliciting a whimper from you as it prodded against your entrance.

"Please, Aemond." You looked back at him, sticking your bottom lip out as you pouted.

He shoved his cock in, letting out a guttural groan as your walls clenched around him. He rutted his hips into yours, using his grip on your ass cheeks to fuck into you.

You completely forgot your whereabouts, lewd moans escaping your mouth as you grinded your hips back into him. Your eyes squeezed shut, hand grabbing the end of the table to ground yourself, so overcome with pleasure you found yourself slipping into the seven heavens with the way you felt.

"I think she's going to come again," Aegon teased, coming to stand in front of you. He gripped your hair, turning your head to look at Aemond. "I want you to stare at Aemond while you cum. He needs to see how he makes you feel."

Aemond stared down at you, eyes completely blown out and his mouth agape as he groaned. His fingers grazed your back, moving around your front till he reached your cunt.

"Look at you so brain dead as my brother fucks you," Aegon taunted, rubbing himself over his trousers. "Just desperately waiting for release."

His words rung true, your mind blank as you whimpered.

"Cum for me," Aemond demanded, feeling how close you were.

You were brought to the edge, your core clenching hard around him as you you came, pulling his own orgasm from him. His pace became sloppy as he spilt into you, hot cum painting your walls. His pace slowed down, slipping out of you as his cum dripped out of your cunt.

"Finished already, brother," Aegon chuckled, pushing his brother away to get behind you.

Aemond punched him on his shoulder to shut him up, having Aegon hiss as he massaged the sore spot on his chest. Aemond just rolled his eyes at his older brother, moving to the side of the room.

Aegon flipped your body over, back on the table so you could look up at him. He pulled you up, chest to chest as he kissed you. "By the time I'm done with you, dear wife, I would have fucked another babe into you."

You giggled, arms wrapping around the back of his neck. "That's not possible if I'm already pregnant."

He nestled his head into the side of your neck, sucking and nibbling on your throat. "You'll see what I mean," he whispered against your skin.

Aegon grabbed his cock, only yanking down his trousers slightly, his thick cock resting against your slit. He rested his forehead against yours as his arm wrapped around your back, supporting you.

"Put it in for me," Aegon directed, guiding your hand towards his cock. Your legs wrapped around him, pulling him towards you as you centred his cock at your entrance. You moaned together as he slid in, feeling full again as your walls hugged him. "Gods, that's my good wife."

He gently placed you down back against the table, hovering over you as he did. He kissed you roughly, pressing himself deeper into you as he started to fuck you at an agonisingly slow pace. He lifted himself, breaking away from your lips as he watched your tits with a wide grin.

Your tits bounced for him as he fucked into you hard, making sure to come all the way out and back in. You were gasping, grabbing onto his hand as you gripped it tightly.

"Faster please," you begged, not being able to take the slowness anymore.

"I like it when you beg." Aegon leaned down, his lips turning up into a mischievous grin. "Do it again."

"Please, Aegon. I want it so badly," you pleaded desperately, holding onto his arms.

His hips started to pound into you ruthlessly, moaning into your lips as he rested on top of you. You were so lost in him, consumed by him as you started moaning obscenities from your lips.

Suddenly, the door opened, familiar voices pouring into the room. Your head snapped round to look, trying to wriggle free as you caught sight of your mother stood there.

Rhaneyera's mouth hung up, staring at the pair of you with utter shock. Next to her was Daemon, a scowl on his lips.

Aegon didn't stop his movements, holding you down with the weight of his body as he stared at Rhaneyera. "Sister," he chuckled, kissing the side of your face as she glared at the pair of you.

Aemond stood in front of the pair of you, pushing his way out and closing the door behind him. "We must not disturb the married couple," he said, the smirk evident in his cheery tone.

"Aegon." You looked up at him, wide eyes with panic. "Stop-" the sound of swords being drawn was heard "-stop now."

He peeled himself off of you, groaning as he quickly pulled his trousers up. You followed him scampering to get your dress back on, not bothering with the laces as you held it close to your body.

Aegon yanked the door open, covering your body with his as he stepped out.

The guards were stood between Aemond and Daemon, both with swords out ready to fight. Luckily Alicent stormed round the corner, the Queen stopping the commotion immediately.

"What is going on?" Alicent asked, standing by the side of Aemond.

"Your son defiles my child, that's what is going on," Rhaneyera shouted, gesturing to you and Aegon at the door.

"Children please return to your chambers," Alicent ordered, eyes following you all as you walked away. "It seems I need to catch up our guests on some matters."

Your heart was pounding out of your chest once you returned to your rooms, falling onto the bed in a heap. Aegon joined you, ripping away at your clothes that were still not tied up. He was still hard as he pressed himself against you, easily slipping in to your core as he pushed himself into you.

"Aegon, really," you gasped, hips arching into him. "After all that just happened."

"I still need to cum," he told you, pounding his hips into yours. "Besides I think if me and Aemond kept fucking you, keeping you so docile like this, there would be no second for you to have to worry."

You couldn't help it as your lips turned up into a smile, his words amusing you. "I like that idea."

He pushed your legs, wrapping them around his shoulders to reach a deep angle, laughing menacingly as you moaned beneath him. Tears brimmed your eyes as he carried on fucking you, not knowing if you could handle the feeling anymore.

Within seconds you were cumming, your core pulsating around Aegon's cock. His lips hovered on top of yours, moans escaped both of your mouths as he came on top of you, filling you to the very brim. He held you there, not sliding out as he collapsed onto you. Both of you tried to catch your breath as you looked at each other.

"I forgot how good your cunt feels when you cum," Aegon hummed, unwrapping your legs to allow you comfort. "You could make any man cum within seconds with that cunt."

"My love," Aemond's voice called to you, sat on the other side of the room. He looked up at the pair of you and looked back down as he noticed Aegon's ass. "Brother, would you mind moving so I could look at Y/N?"

Aegon sighed, thinking for a second as he looked down at you. He moved, pulling you with him as he flipped your positions, still staying buried deep inside you. You sat up to look at Aemond, grinning widely as you clenched your walls around Aegon's cock making him groan.

Aemond stood up, striding over to you in long steps. He cupped your face with his hand as he reached you, giving you a gentle smile as his thumb brushed over your lips. "I'm going to go check on the little ones and then to training if that's okay with you? Aegon can keep your mind off of things in here." He pressed a soft kiss to your lips as you nodded.

Of course, Aegon had to steal the moment pressing his hips up to elicit a moan from you.

"Of course, my husband," you said, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

Unfortunately, Aegon wasn't having any of it as he repeated his actions laughing as you broke the kiss to whimper in Aemond's mouth. Aemond glared down at him, shaking his head.

"Sorry, brother but you know you could always stay and join us," Aegon jested, fingers grazing the skin of your stomach.

"Childish," Aemond retorted, giving you a sweet smile as he walked off.

You turned to Aegon, slapping his chest as you scolded him. "Be kind to your brother."

The door closed behind Aemond, leaving you and Aegon alone.

"I was just trying to entice him," Aegon stated, rocking his hips up into yours. "I know how you like it when we both take turns fucking you. But you know I love it when I get you to myself."

"That you do." You smirked, biting down on your lip.

His hands gripped on your thighs, helping you go faster as you started to ride him. He stared admiringly at your tits as they bounced up and down for him. "Gods, you are so fucking beautiful."

Aegon loved reading to his daughter at night or even listening as you or Aemond did it. Pampering your children in love felt like it made up for the years of neglect he felt himself growing up. He also found he wasn't as great with babies and he didn't like to hold your son, Aenar, much, scared to not hold his head up right.

That's what Aemond was good for, cradling Aenar till he fell asleep. From the crib, Aegon could watch, cooing at him as he brushed a finger gently down his face.

"Brother," Aemond called from the door, stepping in to the room.

Aegon placed his forefinger on his lips as he hushed Aemond, closing the book he had been reading in his lap. He places a fallen strand of hair behind Daenys' ear and a gentle kiss to her cheek before he strides over to his brother.

"How is Y/N?" Aemond asked, opening the door for his brother.

"I must say I definitely exhausted her," Aegon said, very proud of himself. "She's knocked out."

They both walked together into your shared chambers, Aegon taking a seat by the table while Aemond made his way to the bed. You were curled up into the bed, gentle snores filling the room as Aemond approached you.

Aemond stared down at you, a frown sat on his lips as his fingers played with your curls. "She's going to hate me tomorrow."

"Why is that?" Aegon questioned, pouring two glasses of wine.

"Because mother wants us to show a family united tomorrow." Aemond shook his head. "Our older sister has also requested to see her daughter and grandchildren tomorrow. Apparently the king has approved it and there really isn't anything I could argue to get it stopped."

"Fuck." Aegon handed his brother a cup of wine.

"I was hoping she could just rest here." Aemond took a sip of the wine, turning to look at his brother now. His eyebrows furrowed, taking in the sight of what Aegon was wearing. "Is that Y/N's night gown?"

Aegon looked down at the gown and nodded. "It's super comfortable brother." He grinned striding over to the bed on the other side of you. "You should try it sometime."

"Aemond," you whispered, eyes fluttering open to your husbands' voices. You shifted your body, turning to him as you reached out your hand. "Come to bed, my love."

Aemond stripped himself of him clothes while Aegon slipped in behind you. Aemond pulled you onto his chest as he got in the bed, letting his finger trail over your stomach. Your hand reached back, pulling Aegon closer to your back as he wrapped his arms around your body.

Within moments you'd fall asleep like that, content in each others arms.

You were woken the next morning to kisses being pressed to your face as a hand snaked it's way between your legs. You were still so sensitive from your antics with Aegon that you hissed when two fingers rubbed against your clit. Your thighs instinctively snapping shut on someone's arm, looking down to notice Aemond between your legs.

"My love, it is so early." You said, opening your legs slightly to allow him entrance.

"I know but unfortunately today we all need to be up early," Aemond said, in his croaky morning voice. His breath fanned across your cunt making you hiss at the sensation.

"Why?" You asked, sitting yourself up on your pillows.

"I hoped to tell you after I brought you to pleasure," he said, cutting you off from saying more as his tongue reached for your cunt. He lapped at your folds, licking up the juices that rested there.

Of course you were wet already, having Aegon prodding his cock against your side all night left you like this.

He sucked on your clit, holding your hips down as you tried to grind on his face. You whined at his slow pace, your stomach already tingling from how over sensitive it was.

Aegon woke next to you, eyes peering to see what was going on before turning over for more sleep. You laughed at his reaction, shaking your head as you looked down at Aemond who was grinning against you.

You moaned as his tongue worked faster against you, arching your back slightly as you found yourself coming close to the edge. His hands reached up to your tits, pinching your nipples with his fingers. Within seconds your thighs squeezed around him, pleasure washing over you in a rush as you cried out to him. You were seeing stars as you gripped onto the sheets, feeling like you were about to black out.

Eventually you opened your eyes again, wincing when Aemond brought you a soft towel to clean you up. He was gazing down at you with a smile that was wavering as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I have to see my family, don't I?" You asked, face sinking at the thought.

Aemond nodded, sighing deeply as he moved to pick you up on. He lifted you up off the bed pulling you into him as he shifted positions, having you sit on his lap. You hid your face in his shoulder, tears escaping your eyes as you held him close to you.

"I'm sorry," Aemond whispered, fingers dancing up and down your back. "We all have to go to the throne room today but you won't have to speak to anyone there. However, Rhaneyera has demanded to see you and our children afterwards and she went to father which of course he agreed to."

You felt another hand rub your thigh, realising Aegon must of got up due to your crying.

"I will be with you the whole time," Aegon said, trying to reassure you. "And Aemond will be standing just outside the door."

You lifted your head up slightly to look at them.

"Anyway you are a dragon, my love," Aemond told you, wiping the tears from your cheeks. "You have the strength of a dragon and courage. Do not let them make you feel any less than them because you are more than all of them combined."

Aemond's word stuck with you through the morning and while at first you felt as if you were going to puke from nerves as you walked through the halls, your stomach settled as you realised they could do you no actual harm.

You held onto Aegon's side in the throne room, eyes glaring over to the other side as you noticed your family. A part of you grew sad at how much your brothers had grown of the years, you barely recognised them. But even that thought turned sour, reminding yourself how that opportunity to grow up with your siblings had been ripped away from you.

As you glared at Daemon and Rhaneyera on the other side of the room, your heart filled with anger and hatred, for all the pain they had caused you over the years.

You were quick to return to your quarters after Daemon swung his sword through Vaemond, leaving your stomach in wretches as you almost hurled on the floor. You gathered your strength up in your chambers but still your skin crawled as you waited for your mother.

It wasn't until the afternoon that your mother arrived, your guardsman opening the door to let her in. The silence lingered in the air for a while as the servants poured you wine and plated food on the table.

Daenys toddled over to Rhaneyera, poking at the end of her dress. Your mother gleamed at her, leaning down towards her.

"And who you might be?" Rhaneyera asked, reaching out to stroke her hair.

You were quick to pull Daenys away, placing her on your hip as you gave a tight lipped smile to your mother. "This is Daenys," you introduced, stroking your daughters hair. "Named after the dreamer that-"

"Saved us from the doom of Valyria," Rhaneyera finished, hand stroking against your face. "I'm guessing you named your son Aenar as well after her father." You nodded. "You were always fond of the stories of old Valyria as a child."

"If it wasn't for that dream, none of us would be standing where we are today." Your eyes welled with tears at your mother's soft touch.

A hand pressed to your shoulder and your attention was brought to Aegon. He wrapped an arm protectively around your back as he smiled down at you. "My love, shall we sit."

Rhaneyera retreated a hand from you, scowling at Aegon now. "May I speak to my daughter alone?"

You looked up at Aegon who was opening his mouth with a smirk evident on his lips.

"Husband." You cut him off, handing Daenys over to him. "Please take the children, I will talk with my mother alone."

"Are you sure?" Aegon asked you, eyes wide with concern.

You smiled up at him, nodding. Aegon pressed a long kiss to your forehead. As he turned to his sister staring, he reached down to your lips giving you a heated kiss. He stared at his sister as he slowly broke the kiss and finally departed the room.

Rhaneyera reached out grabbing your hands as she looked at you with fear in her eyes. "Return with me to Dragonstone," she whispered, pulling your hands up to her chest. "You'll be safe there from my brothers, I assure you that."

You furrowed your brows and laughed, confused at her reaction. It took you a second to realise what she meant by it.

"I chose to marry Aegon and Aemond," you told her, ripping your hands from her. "It was me that confessed my love to them first and it was me that convinced them to marry me."

"Why?" Rhaneyera asked, squinting her eyes at you.

"Because I love them."

"Why?"

"Because they've been there for me when no one else has," you shouted defensively, stepping away from your mother. "Because when I was alone here and lost, they comforted me through it all. Through all the pain and sadness."

"This can't be," she protested, holding onto a chair for support. "They turned you against me and married you to Aegon so they could-"

"No." You pointed your finger at her, shaking your head. Tears brimmed at you eyes as you tried to ignore the lump in your throat, swallowing it down. "The only person that turned me against you, was you. You when you conspired with your husband to leave me here. You when you ignored every single letter I sent begging you to take me back to Dragon Stone."

You brought your hand to your mouth trying to hold yourself together.

Rhaneyera just stared at you completely speechless.

"Aegon comforted me on nights when I would lie sobbing in my beds. He'd tell me jokes and take my mind off of the pain I was feeling," you confessed, hands reaching over your swelling stomach. "Aemond listened to me when I needed someone to talk to, reassuring me it wasn't my fault you abandoned me. That it wasn't something I did."

"I'm sorry." Rhaneyera stepped closer to you to reach out to you. "I am truly-"

"Get out," you shouted, flinching away from her. "You have seen me and my children but I do not need your apologies or an explanation for why you did what you did. I made my peace with it and I am happy here. This is my home now, Aegon and Aemond are my home."

"I see," Rhaneyera said, walking towards the door. She looked back at you for a second, a shared look of pain in your eyes as you stared at each other.

But you turned away, looking anywhere but her.

Dinner was no better than you thought it could be. Every time your name was mentioned or a comment was thrown your way, one of your husbands would defend you mercilessly. A wide grin spread on your face at how they protected you at all costs. Luckily you missed the commotion, returning to your chambers once the king had been sent to bed.

When you reached your quarters, you helped put your children to bed, hoping that they didn't feel you had neglected them after the last few nights. But Daenys smiled at your presence, curling up to you as you told her a story.

Then you returned to your own chambers, hoping it wouldn't be long before your husbands were back. Your servants undressed you helping you into the thin night dress you picked out. A dress that was practically see through in the candle light.

You sat on the bed, waiting for your husbands to return.

Both of them stormed in together, smirks on their faces as they stepped in. They were both laughing together, something you hardly ever saw.

"Husbands," you called, directing the attention towards you. "You seem to be very happy, should I be concerned?"

Aemond was first one to greet you, yanking your body towards him as he gripped the sides of your face. He gave you a searing kiss, mouth practically sucking yours.

"Let's just say we defended you gallantly against your family," Aegon boasted, heading straight for the wine on the table.

Aemond wasn't letting up as he pressed you down into the bed, hands grabbing at any part of your body he could get to. "I need you," Aemond told you, parting your legs so he could push his hard on against you.

"Take me," you directed him, helping him out of his clothes. "I want to show you both how proud you've made me tonight."

With your help, Aemond's clothes were peeled off in moments and your night gown was ripped apart in his hands. He held your thighs down to the bed as he climbed above you, cock prodding against your entrance. Without warning he shoved it in, making you gasp in delight as he bottomed out. Within seconds he was pounding into you furiously, not caring that he hadn't prepared you like he normally did.

"Aemond," you whimpered, your cunt squeezing him for dear life.

"I'm not going to last long," Aemond grunted, head resting against yours to look at you. His hips snapped into you like never before, pushing you to something you never felt before. "Gods, this cunt is gripping me so fucking much."

His cock was hitting a certain spot inside you, making you unable to speak as only whines and whimpers fell off your tongue. You felt something overtake you as your pussy clenched around him, a sensation you had never felt before as you squirted on his dick. It sent him over the edge, his cock squirting inside of you, filling you to the very brim.

Aemond collapsed on top of you, nestling his head in the crook of your neck as he relaxed.

"What was that?" You asked, not knowing what had just came out of your body.

"I don't know," Aemond said, kissing your neck. "But I liked it. Maybe we should make you do it again."

You giggled, wrapping your legs around him instinctively.

"Do what again?" Aegon questioned, peering around the bed to look at you both. He already stripped down most of his clothes, only his night pants.

"Just our wife's spectacular cunt draining me of my cum," Aemond jested, rubbing his cock up and down your folds.

"Time to move, brother." Aegon tried to push him but Aemond slapped his hand away.

"You had her all of yesterday, I think you can allow me to have her the rest of the night."

"You were more than welcome to join yesterday but you didn't so-"

"Would you both stop," you laughed, pushing Aemond up slightly. "You can share." You crawled to the end of the bed, forefinger motioning for Aegon to come to you. "Come here."

Aegon pressed his lips onto yours as you felt Aemond start to toy with your ass. You broke your kiss, biting down on your bottom lip as you looked up at Aegon seductively. You positioned yourself, back arching with your ass stuck out for Aemond and your head at the end of the bed as your hands reached out to Aegon.

"Now let me show you how proud I am of you," you whispered, pulling Aegon's cock out of his trousers.

Your licked at his head, tasting the salty pre cum there as you hummed in delight. You opened your mouth, taking him in as you started to suck on him, hand stroking the parts you couldn't manage.

Aemond positioned himself behind you, sliding into you again. The pleasure of his cock pushing into you had you moaning around Aegon's cock. Aegon moaned at the sensation, your mouth now vibrating around him.

Each time you needed breath, you'd pull away an attachment of saliva from Aegon's cock connecting to your lips. Aegon's hand gripped onto your hair for support, almost taking over as you took more of him.

"Fuck, Y/N," Aegon hissed, staring down at you completely entranced by the way you looked.

Aemond started to hit into you faster, hand reaching down between you as his fingers found your clit. He circled your sensitive nub, knowing how you'd moan out, practically screaming around Aegon's cock.

You grabbed onto Aegon's hips, taking him fully down your throat. You gagged every so slightly but never let up, allowing him to fuck your face as he thrusted himself in there.

With the feeling of your moans and the wetness of your mouth, Aegon came undone easily. His cum hitting the back of your throat as he spilt his load in your mouth. He pulled out, allowing you breath for the first time as cum dripped from your lips. He reached down using his hand to clean up your face, only to have you suck the remaining bits off of his fingers as you stared at him.

"With the way you're acting, I am going to get hard again," he admitted, pressing a soft peck to your lips.

Aemond quickened his pace, cock hitting into you unforgivingly. You were a wreck, eyes falling closed as you came undone. This time you weren't sure you could hold up, practically collapsing on the bed as Aemond held your hips up. It wasn't long before he came, his cum leaking from your hole when he pulled out.

You were exhausted, thinking you could last long. At last yesterdays antics caught up with you and you found yourself barely able to move.

Aemond pulled you up as Aegon peeled the covers up. Both of them together helped you get into bed as they slipped in beside you. Before they could say anything, you were asleep curled up in your favourite position.

And for a moment Aegon and Aemond shared a knowing look with each other, completely happy in their bliss with you. Both of them cuddling into you as they fell asleep beside you, finding solace in your warmth.

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