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liannafae · 8 days ago

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Heaven was brought to me HAJAUAVDBKDKDJDBDJDKDKKDKD OH MY GOSH SUCH A GOOD READ ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

As You Are

Part 1/? (full fic available on Ao3)

Relationship: Aemond Targaryen / AFAB Reader Word Count: 11,244 Summary: Lady Reader is sent to marry Prince Aemond to forge an alliance between their houses 💕 11k words of pining after one another, and a romantic wedding night that's hard to forget xx Warnings: Smut, 18+ themes

That soft longing surprised you, the way you felt as if he had taken a part of you with him when he was gone, the way you no longer felt quite whole, how quickly you had become so drawn to him. Your Mother had warned you that love could take time or might never come at all, that perhaps even warming to one another might be difficult in an arranged match - but with Aemond it already felt like there was something there.

In those brief touches and stolen glances you found a foundation, the potential for a good life together.

You stood outside the towering doors of the throne room. Your chest was tight with anticipation, eyes blank as you stared at the stone floor and waited for what felt like an eternity, struggling to calm yourself before you heard the roar of the crowd on the other side and it all became real again.

Everyone on this side was quiet - unnervingly so - your own father and mother not quite certain what words of advice or comfort they should have offered you before your whole world changed forever.

"It's time." He said quietly.

If you could have ignored it, you would.

Footsteps and the clink of armour echoed down the hallway as the White Cloaked Kingsguard came into view, accompanying your new husband and his mother Queen Alicent to meet you in the Vestibule so that you may enter the hall as one.

It was a political match, not one born of fondness and familiarity - truth be told. You had never met the young Prince Aemond or any of his family before you had come to the Sept to be wed, and the only words you had exchanged were your wedding vows before you had been whisked away from one another again and brought back to the Red Keep.

He stalked towards you with purpose. His quiet confidence both impressive and so intimidating that even without his Valyrian features or missing eye he would still stand out from a crowd of lesser men. You felt an uneasy flutter in the pit of your stomach when he stopped beside you and tucked his broad arms behind his back with a slight grin.

"My Prince," You curtsey to greet him again, trying to keep your voice calm and even. "Husband."

He observed you a moment, his expression giving nothing away just as it had done in the Sept, but there was an intensity to him now that drew the breath from your lungs and made your eyes widen as he reached down to take your hand and bring it carefully to his lips.

His voice was barely above a whisper, meant for you and you alone, but you felt a heat flush through your body all the same.

"My Wife."

There was nothing indecent about it, as far as everyone else was concerned this was just a man greeting his lady wife for the first time. Yet the way he watched you with his violet eye made you feel as if he could see right through to the bone - so raw and exposed before him that Aemond knew the deepest parts of you that you didn't know yourself. Every inch of your soul laid bare so you could never go unseen again.

"I trust that the journey back to the Red Keep was without issue?" Queen Alicent addressed your parents, her voice snapping your attention back to the task ahead.

Your mother replied with an "Of course, Your Grace.", but you noticed that Aemond had still not averted his gaze.

Once the last of the pleasantries were said and done you took a deep breath and readied yourself, only slightly reassured by the way Aemond linked his arm around yours when you turned to face the door. You forced yourself to smile as you entered the throne room to great applause, but found that your nerves soon turned to awe once you saw the scope of the festivities.

Hundreds of guests gathered around endless wooden tables and benches. Great houses across the kingdom from Winterfell to Oldtown here to celebrate the union, all sat beneath sparkling black silk woven with silver and starlight that draped from the columns and ceiling - dancing in the heat that rose from the lit braziers that lined the great stone walls. The three headed dragon of the Targaryen's also hung on a black banner on the back wall behind the Iron Throne, surrounded by smaller flags and standards carrying your own house sigil as compliment.

It was a reminder to all those present the strength of this ancient family that you have now married into.

"Remember where you are," His voice was low, warning. "Do not give anything away in front of those eager to take advantage."

You did not even notice that you had been squeezing Aemond's arm until you felt his fingers slip over your hand, carefully easing your grip on him once you arrived before King Viserys to kneel at the conqueror's seat. There he was a sickly figure sat amidst the twisted iron and steel, the King's fading presence almost swallowed by the throne as the years had taken their toll, appearing even frailer still when you compared him to your groom - but you kept your face still and paid your respects as expected.

"Such a comely bride," Viserys smiled and waved his frightfully thin hand to beckon you both to rise. "A good match, better than I had hoped for you. Well done, boy!"

He gave no speech as you had expected, his energy perhaps already spent climbing the steps to the throne before the guests had gathered. However, you noticed the way that Aemond tensed at the compliment as if it were an insult.

Better than he had hoped. Those words lingered in your thoughts for quite some time after you took your seat at the table laid out across the dais, where you sat quietly on your husband's blind side, hardly paying attention when The Lord Hand Otto Hightower delivered a toast to your health and wishes for a prosperous marriage. Better than he had hoped. As if his expectations had been so low.

You cast a glance towards Aemond and search for any fault that might stand out to you but find none on the surface. By all accounts - apart from the patch that obscured his eye - he was handsome in an unusual yet striking way, his strong features somehow appeared softer against the glow of candlelight, and his silver hair flowed loose like silk past his the broad shoulders of his black and red velvet doublet. He wore the colours of his house well, far better than his ailing father - who had quietly been led out of the chamber whilst the rest of the guests were distracted by the festivities.

For a long time you found it hard to look away from your new husband, until he caught you at least.

He put down his goblet and turned his head so that he could see you properly. "My Lady, did you want something?"

"Oh, I-" You stopped, desperate for an excuse to be less awkward, and grasped the first thing that came to your head. "I just wondered if you would like to dance, my Prince?"

Aemond's brow furrowed, his arm rested against the hard wood of the table as he rubbed his thumb against his forefinger and let out a contemplative hum. "I do not really..." He replied, your eyes catching the way that his throat bobbed as he paused before continuing. "I am not one for dancing, my Lady."

You pressed your lips together and leaned back into your seat, more disappointed than you had expected to be. You hadn't even had a particular desire to take to the dance floor, only using it as an excuse, but the utter disinterest in joining you had left you slightly unsettled.

"I see," You let out a breath, determined not to show it. He had warned you to give nothing away in public and you were not foolish enough to forget so quickly. "So what do you like then? To occupy your time with, I mean."

He was quiet a moment longer, the silence between you interrupted only by a snicker from the nearby Prince Aegon to remind you that you were not truly alone.

"I read." He finally said and averted his gaze from you, taking another long pause before elaborating, as if he did not know quite how to talk about himself without being pushed. "I spend a great amount of time in our library."

You forced a smile to cover the fact that on the inside you were wincing, wondering why trying to get to know your new husband was akin to pulling teeth, and cast a glance towards his older brother - sat next to Aemond on the side of his good eye - who had been knocking back wine as if it was water.

You noticed the mercurial smugness etched onto his face as he looked between the pair of you, slurping as he downed the rest of his goblet and placed it back down on the table with a satisfying clunk.

He smirked and gave you a pointed look as if to say watch this.

"Surely your lovely wife does not want to hear about dusty old books." He said a little too loudly and let out a shrill laugh.

For a second you did not understand the purpose of such a flippant remark, but then you saw the way that Aemond's jaw clenched at the sound of Aegon's incessant giggling, and the considered cold stare that fell across his face at the mention of you. Perhaps it was just the stress of the day, or the natural friction between siblings that every family shared, but it did not take you long to realise that there was a deeper tension between the two.

"I do not mind," You tried to conciliate, turning to Aemond and continued. "Do you have a fav-"

"I mean," Aegon cut you off, "You could be enjoying the finer things in life! Wine, women... more wine and women?" He leaned back in his seat as if to ponder the thought. "You really ought to try to have more fun, dear brother!"

Aemond flexed his hand, tapping his fingers against the table as he inhaled deeply and took a moment to decide whether biting the obvious bait would be worth it.

"Should I?" An amused hum played across his lips. "Although, I confess that I find my current endeavours to be a much better use of my time than indulging in your endless hedonism and depravity."

"You-" Aegon began to reply, but it was you that interrupted the flow of conversation this time - the sound of your laughter cutting through the tension to draw their attention back to you.

Aemond's eye met yours the moment you went to cover your mouth, trying to scrape back some modicum of politeness in front of royalty, but instead of the disapproval you had expected you found a warmth that had not been there prior. You had enjoyed his remark. The realisation clear upon his face as the corner of his mouth curled into a slight smile, a small victory shining in his violet eye as he watched and waited for more.

"Do you agree, My Lady?"

"I do," You replied, blinking slowly as you tried and failed to fight the urge to smile back at him. "Aside from reading, are there any other pursuits that you enjoy?"

This time he did not hesitate to reply, the guarded wall he kept up appeared to shrink a little now that he was more sure of you.

"I am also quite skilled with a sword. I often train in the yard with Ser Criston."

"Yet you do not dance?"

You tilted your head to the side, eyes fixed to his as you felt yourself drawn in closer and more curious than before. At first you had asked because you thought you ought to, now you asked because you wanted it.

Aemond shifted in his seat and let out a slow breath, the tightness in his posture relaxing when he gave you his reply:

"Fighting and dancing are quite different."

"I disagree," You smile and shake your head. "'tis all in the footwork is it not? Battle has a rhythm of its own. What good is a swordsman that lacks grounding or the ability to move? To weave through a crowd and pick out a partner to face off against?"

"You paint quite the picture." That slight smile had not left his face.

"Why not try it and find out?" You challenged him a little, raising a brow as you took a sip of wine.

Aemond did not refuse immediately like he had the last time. His gaze shifted low as he considered, then looked back to you again, then to the crowd that stood in the centre of the hall socialising where the dancing would have taken place.

"... You're very insistent."

It wasn't a no.

"If you don't want to embarrass yourself at your own wedding, I am happy to take your place," Aegon reminded you of his presence yet again, this time clasping his brother's broad shoulder and giving it a playful squeeze as he leaned in to whisper the rest, "... Perhaps in your other duties as well."

Although it was hushed you still heard the scandalous remark, scoffing in disgust a few seconds after you allowed it to sink in what he meant by 'other duties' - and it seemed that your husband also found it exceedingly distasteful.

"You have had enough to drink." Aemond did not shrug Aegon off, but gave him a warning glare that silently screamed a command to remove his hand. Aegon, ever the fool, did not heed it and continued.

"I am still awake and capable, so have not!" Aegon countered, lifting his goblet above his head in a mock toast. "What do you say, Lady Reader?"

But before you could answer, Aemond spoke.

"You have your own wife to occupy yourself with," He grasped Aegon's fingers and peeled them off his doublet, his voice dropping lower and more threatening. "Surely you do not need mine."

Mine.

You could feel the way your heart leapt at that, how strange you felt for enjoying it, how embarrassed you were that you wanted to hear him say it again and again.

The way he spoke the word was so different to how it had sounded in the Sept as you said your vows - that your were his and he was yours - not gentle or disinterested as it had once been but guarded, almost domineering, as if this was the only way he could make his brother realise that one more insult against you would not be tolerated.

"I may put my hands on our sister whenever I like," Aegon huffed, and you truly felt sorry for Princess Helaena. "To brush up against Lady Reader is such a rare opportunity."

Before you could even think to say something, the screech of Aemond's chair scraping against the stone floor rang out across the hall, drawing everyone's attention to the dais as he slammed his goblet down and slowly stood to face his brother. Sound after sound diminished - first the music, then the raucous laughter from the benches, then the hushed whispers as all the Lords and Ladies gathered on the floor - until an expectant silence blanketed the entire throne room.

Even Aegon was quiet as he cautiously tilted his head up to meet Aemond's eye, perhaps realising that he really had taken things too far.

Your husband did not move for a moment, flexing his jaw and inhaling before he looked away and remembered where he was. His earlier warning to you to be careful what you showed in public temporarily forgotten as concerned onlookers and gossiping courtiers eagerly awaited to see the conflict boil over.

For a moment you thought it might, but Aemond would not give them the satisfaction.

"Come," He said loud enough for everyone to hear, holding his hand out to you with an impassive face. "Let us join our guests on the floor."

He would give them something else entirely.

Your eyes darted between him and Aegon, then back to the rest of the people gathered in the hall, as you slowly brought your hand up to his.

There was still so much tension in his posture as he wove his fingers between yours but he still managed to move with an unexpected fluidity and grace, guiding you away from the table with his other hand ghosting the small of your back.

"You do not have to -" You began to whisper.

Aemond brought his mouth close to your ear, "Yes, I do."

You felt yourself almost stumble as your foot found the step, the tickle of his breath against your neck distracting your focus, a warm flush pooling in the pit of your stomach at the way he brought his hand to your waist to steady you.

"I'm sorry." You laughed nervously.

He said nothing, did not move his hand as you walked to the centre of the room together, did not heed the whispers or the way that people gawked at he close he was to you - this was the only spectacle he would allow. It was a performance to hide the fissures in his house before others could widen those cracks.

You stood side by side and watched as Aemond waved a hand toward the bards and minstrels that had stopped playing, giving them the go ahead to start again as the rest of the floor cleared of guests to accommodate their Prince. Your Prince.

The rhythm began quietly, each stroke of the drum skin building the anticipation as the two of you stepped away in opposite directions, turning to face each other and take it all in as the sound of long string notes eased you into the introduction. You bowed your head and lifted your arm, tilting your neck ever so slightly as you watched him match your movement and take a diagonal step towards you like a knight circling his equal on the field.

He had taken your words to heart then, 'battle has a rhythm of its own', and he was determined to test it for himself.

You let out a deep breath as he dipped out of view to appear on your other side, snatching your hand back as his fingers grazed yours, a teasing grin etched upon your face as you looked him straight in the eye.

You heard the titter of the crowd, amused on-lookers curious to see what he would do next, but Aemond just stepped back - waiting, watching, his gaze fixed on you - arm outstretched, not in invitation but as if he held a sword.

As if it were a challenge.

You took a step forward and raised your own, twisting your wrist as if you were twirling a thin blade above your head before you met him and crossed - lunging for him only to be sidestepped, his silver hair grazing you as he weaved past to the sound of scattered applause.

"I did not ask at the table," He finally spoke as you turned to face him and tapped your foot, "I apologise."

"For what?" You replied and followed his lead, circling each other with your arms held in a matching guarding stance.

"For not inquiring after your interests when we discussed mine. I take it you like this?"

You smiled. "Yes."

You both paced around each other so that you were back-to-back, but you would have given anything to continue looking at his face whilst you spoke. There was something so intoxicating about the way he looked at you, with a gentle intensity that made him feel as if he was the only person in the whole room that could see you.

"I also like to read," You continued, looking over your shoulder to find him doing the same. "... And I enjoy riding."

An amused hum escaped his lips, "Have you ever ridden a dragon?"

You were aware that he already knew what your answer would be. You were not a Targaryen, and you had never seen one of their dragons in the flesh, but you humoured him regardless.

"I have not."

He turned behind you and leaned in to whisper, his one hand coming to rest against your hip whilst the other stroked along your arm until your fingers met again. He was touching you more than he ought to in public, exploring, pushing to see what he could get away with.

"It is not quite the same as a horse."

You let out a breathy laugh, "Is it not terrifying?" you asked and wrapped your hand around his as he raised it above your head.

"Extremely." Your affections danced as he twirled you, "Enough to make one's heart race. There is nothing as thrilling in this world - to be able to soar through the skies, to touch the clouds and chase storms... Men spend their entire lives wishing for what Vhagar and I can do in an afternoon."

He was much more talkative now that it was only you in earshot, and you realised that perhaps that initial reservedness had only been because of Aegon - that he had known that everything he said would be derided or because he did not want to be embarrassed by his older brother's behaviour.

This was a man of so many unspoken words, so complex and new behind the veneer, someone that you would study endlessly and never tire of.

"Would you take me?" You asked, trying to imagine the way his arms would wrap around you on that dragon, as the wind whipped through your hair and the cities seemed to shrink into insignificance below.

"If you want me to." He stopped and smiled. "If she will let you."

You both travelled in time to the music, spinning away from him as you moved to parry and riposte his next attacking movement, and laughed when you heard gasps and claps from the crowd.

Aemond became relentless then, darting towards you to strike again as you both orbited the floor - defending as you fled from him with a wicked grin and the tap of your shoes against the stone. You could feel your blood coursing through your veins, steady breaths quickening as you focused every ounce of physicality on matching him, the push and pull of your dance quickened with the beat until you finally met the moment of conclusion.

Aemond made a disarming gesture, knocking your arm back in a sweeping motion as he closed the distance between you, clutching your waist as he hoisted you into the air, his strong thigh resting beneath your leg, to place you back down half a heartbeat later as the final swell of the song came to its end.

"I thought you said that you did not dance." You breathed, your chest heaving as you tilted your head up.

A rapturous applause filled the room as you both stood there panting, but the cheering and whistles were not enough to pull your attention away from each other as you held his longing gaze. The striking violet of his eye trailed down your face for a moment, watching the way your lips turned up as if he was considering something he should not, as his hand caressed the outline of your dress one last time before he dropped his grip on you and moved away.

"I don't."

There was a smug smile on his face as he stepped off the dance floor, leaving you behind as the rest of the guests returned to their spaces when the next song began, heading in the direction of Otto Hightower who had been watching from the sidelines. You decided not to follow, to give him some space or room to breathe - seven hells you knew that you needed it - and made your way back into the circle of Ladies gathered on the dance floor that were ready to perform a much simpler carole.

Out of the corner of your eye you could still see Prince Aegon sat atop the dais, the mock concern he had worn earlier long gone from his drawn face, watching you with a self-satisfied smile as he winked and mouthed the words 'you're welcome' just as you began to move again.

It all suddenly clicked - why Aegon had been so persistent in spite of the clear animosity he was met with. He had goaded Aemond into dancing with you, knew that poking him would garner that response, and had wanted you to see it.

You felt slight gratitude and disgust all at once, thankful for the favour but displeased with the method, and wondered if he had not meant the things that he said at the table. Had he simply said those words to get what he wanted or was there a kernel of truth to them?

Based on Aemond's reaction though, you doubted his intentions were all that noble.

The next song came to an end soon enough and in the pause between pieces you looked around the room for your husband, only to find that you had lost him in the crowd - spirited away with no trace or hint to where he may have gone.

In those brief touches and stolen glances you found a foundation, the potential for a good life together, for more affection than what most people had.

You needed a break from the festivities, some air to clear your head so that you could manage your expectations, stepping off the dance floor to find a balcony or window to refresh your whirring mind. You only made it halfway toward the steps to the gallery before you heard someone call your name, the last person you wanted to speak to at that moment, Aegon swayed toward you as if in a stupor accompanied by the youngest brother Daeron who you had not had the pleasure of meeting yet.

"Going so soon?" His tongue tripped over the words, slurring his speech. "Have I missed my chance to ask you to dance?"

He was drunk, that much was clear, but so were many of the guests, and Aemond was not there this time to act as a buffer.

"Apologies, My Prince. I fear that I have worn myself out." You gave him a watery smile. "Perhaps there is another that would gladly take my place."

Daeron nodded his head at you and went to take his brother by the arm. "Come, let us leave our new sister alone and find our fun elsewhere." He offered a reprieve, albeit brief. You watched as Aegon wiggled his arm away and shook his head.

"No no - if the Lady is tired we should see her to bed!" He giggled.

"Aegon." Daeron warned.

Your heart dropped when the eldest prince took another step toward you, arms wide with enthusiasm, the thought of him touching you or encouraging others to do so enough to make your stomach churn.

"But it is tradition! Show some respect."

Sure enough it was, although you wanted no part in it.

You had seen it happen at your cousin's wedding to one of the Mallister boys, the way she sobbed and begged the men to leave her dress untouched as they hoisted her into the air to carry her to their wedding bed, the way she had been so quiet and withdrawn the morning after. You had warned your parents that you would not tolerate such treatment, although deep down you knew it wasn't something that she had wanted either.

Women in Westeros seldom had the power to choose their own fate but your Father promised you that much at least - if you did your duty and married Prince Aemond without complaint, they would make sure that you were not mistreated or humiliated in front of the court - but when you looked around for him amidst the crowd, you did not see that familiar face looking out for you with concern.

"Mother and Aemond will not like it." Daeron kept his voice measured, but he cast a cautious glance at you - as if to tell you to flee the first chance you got. "Let us go find him and leave the Lady in peace."

"Where is our brother? 'Tis unlike him to hide from his duty," Aegon stumbled forward, the wine in his cup sloshing onto the floor. "Come Daeron! Pick her up and help her with her clothes, she will not be needing them much longer."

"Aegon!" Daeron hissed.

"It's just a bit of fun!"

You forced a smile and used every ounce of your composure to stop yourself from shaking, not in fear - but anger. "I'm sure my Lord Father will not find it as amusing," You said, but your words were laced with bile and an implicit threat. "And I imagine that the Queen will not be best pleased either."

You hated this. You hated the fact that you had to hide behind other people's positions, to try to balance the scales enough that he would leave you be, hated that you couldn't reel your hand back and slap him across the face without the fear that it would be the last time you had a hand.

Don't let him touch me. You silently begged The Mother, The Maiden, and any of The Seven that might have cared to keep you safe - although they had never answered your prayers before. Let this be another one of his sick jokes that goes no further.

"You speak too much sense." Aegon rolled his eyes at you, "It's boring."

"My Prince I would really rather not -"

"I have done you a favour tonight by making sure that you had your way with my brother," He laughed, and brought his hand down onto your shoulder, squeezing hard as if to reassure you although it did anything but. "All I want is some entertainment of my OW-"

Aegon let out a pitiful whine as a firm hand suddenly appeared from behind you to clamp around his wrist and twist his grip away, his face scrunched in discomfort when his attention left you in favour of whoever dared interrupt.

"What are you doing?!"

You felt Aemond against your back, his domineering presence offering an unmistakable sense of relief when he placed his spare hand at your waist so that he could pull you away from his brother to put some space between you. He took a step forward, his gaze formidably cold and jaw tight with a quiet fury, digging his fingers into Aegon's wrist without a care for the pain it caused him.

"That is enough. You have had your fun."

"Don't be such a twat," Aegon snatched his arm back and staggered a bit off balance, either from shock or too much wine, and laughed as if to shrug the whole thing off. "If we carry her off to your bed now she can't run away scared when she sees... Look, I'm doing all this for your benefit so just -"

"Quiet." His voice was calm - in the same deceptive way that the air feels before a storm begins to lash - stood so still as the atmosphere around him shifted into something heavy, thick, and unyielding. "You can continue to mock and belittle me all you like brother - you can even lie to yourself and dress it up as 'helping' if that helps to ease that depraved conscience of yours. I allowed you to get away with it earlier this evening for the sake of appearances, but you will not humiliate her to get at me again. Do I make myself clear?"

Aegon went quiet, his whole front beginning to crumble as the smarmy smile was wiped clean off his face, giving way to something more broken and unsure than you had ever seen a man wear before in your life.

"I'm fine." You lied, hoping to diffuse some of the tension between them before it could turn into something uglier.

"No you're not." Daeron finally spoke again. "I should've done more to stop him."

And with that Aegon finally decided he had endured enough. Huffing as he shoved his cup into the hands of a passing servant, he skulked away like a miserable fool that had failed to gain the approval of his patrons rather than the prince that he was.

"Take her to the back of the hall. I shall meet you by the door." Aemond commanded, handing you over to his younger brother as he watched the older push past and almost knock Lord Beesbury over.

"Where are you going?" You asked.

"To ensure he doesn't cause any more trouble." He sighed. "I will be back for you, I swear it."

"I shall go after him," Daeron answered. "You two should enjoy your own wedding."

He did not wait for Aemond's reply, instead moving carefully through the crowd in pursuit of his errant brother, walking slow enough that it did not draw further attention. You were grateful for that at least, that none of the guests had noticed Aegon's behaviour and encouraged him, and that you were not a source of gossip and scandal on your first day at court.

"He is a -" Aemond began to mutter until he caught the way you were watching him again.

"A what?"

He paused to consider, a million different insults to describe Aegon all springing to mind as he lifted his arm for you to take. "... A scoundrel."

"Something tells me that was not the first word that came to mind."

You raised a brow and walked with him across the room, weaving your arm around his as if it were the most natural thing in the world now, his other hand coming to rest against the back of yours.

"The first word is not decent for a Lady to hear." He smirked.

"I do not mind suffering some indecency if it means you feel able to confide in me." You teased, although you meant what you said.

He chuckled at that, albeit brief, but it felt good to hear him laugh - to momentarily ease the tension that seemed to cling to his very soul before it could dig its claws in any deeper.

"I would like that." He quietly admitted, taking you back to your seats at the table atop the dais.

The rest of those that had been sat with you earlier had already vacated their positions, finally leaving the two of you utterly alone, but you both still pulled your chairs closer so that it was easier to speak more discreetly.

"I would too." You nudged him a little.

"I have to been seen to be publicly supportive, even if I remain privately disgruntled by his behaviour. Aegon can taunt and mock all he likes behind closed doors but out in the world we must defend our own - he went too far tonight, embarrassed himself and offended you before I have even had the chance to..." His voice trailed off as if he wasn't quite sure how to continue, no matter how desperately you wanted him to.

"The chance to do what?"

"To know you," he said and it felt as if your heart skipped a beat. "To have a fondness for you, perhaps."

His words danced around the obvious conclusion, that even though your match was a planned one, there was space for something much deeper to take root and flourish between you. He wanted to love you, wanted you to love him, the truth of it was plain as day across his calm expression as you reached for his hand and wove your fingers with his.

You said nothing, not really needing to, instead running your thumb in circles against the back of his hand as you watched his face soften ever so slightly.

"I shall speak with him again in the morning once he is sober," Aemond sighed and continued. "You need not pay him any attention."

"It is difficult not to when one day he may be King." You replied with a half-hearted smile.

"When I cloaked you in the Sept, I brought you under my protection. I will not allow him to bother you as he would a common -" He stopped and let out a hum instead, as if he had caught himself getting wound up again and wanted to moderate his tone. "I am your husband now. You have my name, my honour, my life - and, if necessary, my dragon to remind anyone foolish enough to forget that I am yours and you are mine."

"My Prince..."

Your heart fluttered at the way he leaned into your space, how he was almost as close as he had been in the Sept when he sealed your vows with a kiss - it had been feather-light, curious even, so unlike the intensity you had come to know in the hours since.

"Is that too much? You and I are strangers still, I know." He asked.

You wanted to scream, to tell him that no it wasn't too much - it wasn't enough. You wanted the fire that flickered beneath the surface, yearned for it to set your heart alight as he kissed you properly this time, but you were still in public - still under the ever watchful eye of the nobility, of your families.

So you told him, "We do not have to be." and gave him the confirmation that he needed.

He watched for the way you inched forward, just a little, a hopeful smile on your face as your eyes met his and you felt that lingering uncertainty just melt away.

"The hour is late." He hummed.

"It is."

Aemond gave you another slightly nervous smile out of the corner of his mouth as he looked down at your hand, still stroking against his, and gave you a gentle squeeze. "Perhaps we should go to bed?"

"To bed or..." you paused, waiting until he looked up at you again. "To bed?"

"I would not force it upon you." He sat a little more upright as he spoke, to give you space to consider.

But you already knew your answer.

"You would not need to."

For the first time in your life you were allowed to want something so carnal, to entangle yourself so irrevocably in another person's body and soul, but even as a married woman it still felt shameful to admit. You could feel a heat rise beneath your cheeks as your heart hammered in your chest, your nerves alight with such a strange sense of anticipation - the fear and elation that came from the acknowledging the truth of it all.

"Say something..." You let out a nervous laugh and whispered, "Please?"

Aemond let out a deep breath that you had not noticed he had been holding, drumming the fingers of his other hand against the table, but never taking his eye off you.

"Shall I have them announce our departure, or shall we just quietly disappear?"

He watched you with a hesitant look in his eye, and it was all you could to stare back and lose yourself in that longing gaze, heart murmuring at the way it slowly trailed down your face to meet your lips and linger there a second too long.

"Yes..." You breathed.

Aemond let out a quiet laugh, "To what?"

You smiled and shook your head to yourself, willing your wits to return before you made yourself look even more of a fool. "To disappear together," your voice was a low whisper, "It may be our duty, but that does not mean that we cannot enjoy it on our own terms."

He was quiet after that, considered, the expression he wore seemed almost as if he was slightly fascinated at how easy and simple it actually ought to be - that this moment did not have to be one you both dreaded or endured for the sake of what was expected, that you could enjoy it as much as he might.

You allowed your hand to slip from his grasp, fingers carefully stroking along his skin when you withdrew and went to stand on shaky legs, taking the initiative this time as you beckoned him toward a point of no return.

Come. Come with me and I shall give you everything.

Aemond swallowed before he spoke again, not in a way that made him seem nervous or unsure, but how a warrior prepares for a battle he knows he can win - as if to centre himself, to allow almost a divine certainty to envelop his very being and reforge him into something anew. "Through the door at the back of the hall."

He waited for you to leave first, allowing some distance between you before he also got up from his seat and followed in a way that would not draw attention to your departure, and nodded his head toward Ser Criston Cole once you were over the threshold.

You were equal parts thrilled and terrified when you left the festivities behind, the sound of the crowd growing fainter with every nervous step.

"Where now?" You turned and asked Aemond as he caught up to you, his fingers grazing your sleeve as you both made your way down a long corridor that led out to an open courtyard.

He nodded his head in the direction of an enormous building that was hidden behind a thick interior wall. "No one shall bother us here, not even my brother."

You both continued on to Maegor's Holdfast - the famed castle within the castle where the King and his immediate Targaryen family resided - strolling slowly until members of the Kingsguard came into view at the end of the drawbridge.

"Raise the bridge after we have passed," Aemond commanded. "Lower it for none but my Mother or Sister when they retire for the night."

"My Prince, we were not expecting you!" A tall, bearded brown haired man replied. "Will you stay long? I understood that there are rooms prepared for you and your bride back in the Red Keep."

"We do not want any further interruptions, Ser Arryk." He replied, and the Knight nodded in understanding. It was clear enough that names did not need to be said for them to know your husband referred to Aegon. "Please ensure that we are not disturbed."

Aemond took your hand as you walked along the bridge, quietly warning you to not look down at the dry moat below to see the menacing spikes that jutted up from the stone, and guided you inside toward a twisting stone staircase that led to his personal apartments.

You held your breath as you stepped into the first room, expecting Aemond to be bolder in private and carry you straight off to bed, but you were surprised when he lingered at the door - his hand hovering above the wrought iron bolt as if he was waiting for your approval.

"Thank you." You felt flushed.

"Take your time." He replied and locked the door.

He watched as you took another step forward, inspecting your surroundings as you made your way around the room - noting the living space decorated in green and gold, the bath and dressing room tucked off to the side, and the large four-poster bed that sat atop a platform at the head of the room.

"As Ser Arryk said, there have been rooms prepared for us elsewhere. If you don't like it here -"

"I do." You turned back to him and smiled. "It is yours, My Prince."

"Aemond," He corrected, but there was a feverish look in his eye as he slowly came toward you. "There is no need for titles when we are alone. Call me by my name."

A charged silence hung in their air whilst he waited for your answer, wanting to hear his name on your lips, but there was an anxious flutter that rose in your chest and reminded you that this was all real again - that the touches, the dance, the desire that you felt - it had not been a dream.

"Have you changed your mind?" He asked when you took too long to reply.

"No," You laughed and then softened your voice."I still want to... I just-"

He whispered, "I'm sorry." and for the first time that evening you saw him doubt himself.

He had latched onto that moment of hesitation, as if he had expected it to come and was prepared, his whole body tensing as he halted his progress toward you. With one glance you could see it all - the questioning if what his brother had said was true, that you would panic and flee at the first opportunity, that you would realise that your longing was misplaced once you truly saw him as he was.

"Don't be," You reassured and took a step closer. "It's silly, really."

"Then what is it?" He asked so quietly, but his thoughts were betrayed across his face. She is afraid of me. "Have I... done something?"

And just like that it all clicked into place.

The passing remarks and teasing done by Aegon, the back handed compliment that King Viserys had given him - Better than he had hoped - this evening had been death by a thousand cuts for your husband. Despite his earlier confidence he had still mistaken your nerves for regret, for a type of aversion or rejection that was all too familiar to him.

"You have done nothing to displease me Aemond. Quite the contrary, in fact," You spoke candidly, watching carefully, to see if there was something in your expression that could break through the wall that he was ready to build back up again. "It has just been a long day for the both of us."

It broke your heart a little to see that he thought the worst of himself, so you sighed and moved in closer, rested your hand on his upper arm and gently stroked your thumb against the fabric.

He did not flinch from your touch, but did not relax either. So you continued, "I meant what I said back in the Hall, but I -" you paused to let out a breath. "This is new, I have never done this before... I do not know if you have."

Aemond's brow softened at that, at the worry in your eyes. it was not a fear of him, but of the unfamiliar territory that you had to navigate. He recognised it now - as he had learned the day he claimed Vhagar - that talking and dreaming was one thing, but to take that leap and face it was another entirely.

"It was a long time ago." He admitted.

"Did you love her?"

"No," He said and you believed it. There was no nostalgia or sentimentality in his face or tone, his expression shifting into something that looked almost ashamed as he looked away from your gaze.

There was a story behind that look, perhaps one that you might hear one day, something that had left an indelible mark upon him that he wasn't quite sure how to erase - if it even could be. Perhaps that was why he had been so upset at Aegon's interference, why he had made sure that nobody could take that decision from you too.

"Does it bother you?" He looked up again.

You shook your head, "No."

Aemond eased a little, allowing his shoulders to drop as he slowly brought his hand up and brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. He lingered a moment when you didn't try to pull away, humming and stroking his thumb across the curve of your cheek, with a look in his eye that told you he couldn't quite believe that you were real.

"____." Your name was a whisper on his lips as he breathed his mother tongue, "Gevie iksā..."

"What does that mean?" You asked.

He felt warm as he leaned in, tilting his head down to rest against your own, inching ever closer as he released a shaky breath and sighed, "You are beautiful." and surrendered himself to it.

Aemond had wanted this since the moment he set his sight on you, and now that he knew that you were not just humouring him - that you truly desired it too - he relinquished any persisting guilt or dishonour he felt when you finally met his kiss.

It was slow at first, your lips pressed softly against his for the briefest of moments, testing before giving yourself over completely. You pulled back a little to see him staring, his breath as uneven as yours as he took a moment to gather himself.

"Aemond..." You pleaded, throat tight with a desperate want.

You felt his fingers at the laces on the front of your gown, gently tugging at the bow and sliding the silk through the eyelets one by one in such an unhurried manner, his gaze almost searing through you as he watched for your disapproval - although it never came - even as your mouth went dry at the way that you bodice fell open to expose the fine linen shift your wore underneath.

His hands carefully grazed the bare skin of your décolletage as he helped to shrug off the top layer of your clothing. It was featherlight, exploratory, curious... Yet you burned for it, were hyper aware of the hitch in your breath and the flutter in the pit of your stomach at the sensation of being touched in a way that you never had before.

You let out a nervous laugh when his hands slid down along the outline of your waist, coming to stop right at the top of your skirts. "I'll move." You whispered, and reluctantly tore your gaze from him as you faced away and granted him access to the lace at the back.

It had taken two servants to dress you in your wedding gown that morning but Aemond seemed more than capable of undressing you all on his own, making quick work of the knot and allowing the pale overskirt and petticoats to fall unceremoniously to the floor. Just like on the dancefloor, you could feel the tickle of his breath against the nape of your neck as he leaned in and pressed a kiss against the tip of your spine, eliciting a surprised gasp from you when you suddenly felt a flutter somewhere else.

Before he had the chance to move or do it again, you whirled and took a small step back to give yourself a moment to breathe. The look of concern he gave lasted for only a moment once he saw the shocked smile on your face, and then his eye began to trail down to take in the silhouette of your body through the thin linen shift you still wore.

"Your turn." You swallowed.

Aemond did not move.

"Would you like to?" He met your gaze again. "Or shall I undress myself?"

"I... I can do it."

You moved in close again and slid your hands up the broad chest of his doublet until you reached the buckle right below the neckline, the cool metal of it fashioned into ornate silver dragons that wove around themselves in an endless ouroboros.

The first one came undone with a satisfying click, all the tension in the fabric suddenly releasing to expose the smooth skin beneath his collar, so you brushed your finger along the outline and took your time with the rest.

Although you had the rest of your lives to explore one another - to touch, to feel, to know in ways that no other could - never again would you be able to experience this first night. So you ignored that instinct for urgency that stirred deep within the depths of your soul in favour of savouring that anticipation, as if it were just as much a part of the final act itself.

Aemond slowly shrugged off his doublet once the last buckle was finally opened, stopping only when you laid your one hand flat against his chest to feel the beat of his heart through his shirt, whilst the other carefully stroked the curve of the muscles on his arms.

Up and up your fingers trailed - from his biceps to his shoulder, along the outline of his neck where it connected to his angular jaw, against his cheek... against his scar. The cut was clean, done with a sharp blade but expertly treated by the Maester no doubt, and sat stark against the paleness of his smooth skin.

Curiosity possessed you the moment your touch met the leather patch that obscured the rest from view, but that wonder was cut short when you saw the way Aemond flinched - his eye wide as if he was almost as shocked as you when you pulled your hand back and offered profuse apologies.

"I thought... I am so sorry, if you don't want to -"

"No," He quickly took your hand again. "No... I was just not expecting you to want to look. I do not wish to scare you."

"You do not scare me Aemond," You spoke quietly, "I wish to see all of you, just as you see all of me."

He smiled slightly, his face softening as his hand slid toward the sleeve of your shift. "Not quite all of you." It was a joke to ease the tension, to deflect from the awkwardness he felt, but the fact that he could find humour in it at all reassured you enough to try again.

"Then perhaps I should not hide." You let out a little laugh and reached for the hemline, pulling it up past your knees to expose the flesh of your thighs - slowly continuing up over your hips, then your breasts, until finally it was over your head and you stood almost bare before him.

Aemond moved back as he shifted the weight from one leg to the other in order to accommodate the growing stiffness in trousers, taking in the sight of you as you took another step closer to him.

"You do not have to show me if you are not ready." You told him, but Aemond shook his head and smiled.

He said nothing as he untucked his shirt and then reached for the back of its neckline, tugging it up past his shoulders and discarding it atop the growing pile of clothes on the carpet, then brushed his long silver hair out of the way, as your eyes wandered down to admire the way his muscles curved down toward his hips and more.

Then, to your surprise, his hand reached for the strap that kept the patch in place - hovering for a moment before he took one last breath and lifted it away.

It was such a devastating loss when you thought of how beautiful his surviving eye was, what he might look like had that misfortune not stolen that from him - yet what he had replaced it with was oddly captivating in a way. Candlelight danced along the surface of the sapphire that lay in the socket where his eye had once been, and you found it so hard not to stare.

"Should I put it back on?" He asked.

You had expected to feel pity when you saw it, but all you could conjure was awe - this was a man that had faced such hardship in spite of the status he had, knew what it was to endure.

So you took his hand in yours and brought it to your breast, allowing him to feel the warmth of you as his fingers gently squeezed and cupped your flesh, willing him to continue as you wove your fingers through his hair to rest at the base of his neck.

"No," you felt a tightness in your chest as you replied, "I want you as you are, Aemond."

He answered your desire without hesitation, his mouth crashing into yours to deepen his hold on you - drinking in the relieved moan that escaped your lips as your entire world narrowed to nothing more than his touch.

He was unrestrained, focused, more sure than he had been in the Sept that morning - that first kiss you shared had been for the benefit of everyone else, but this time you were both utterly alone. Aemond poured himself into it with every brush of his tongue, every caress, every ounce of affection that he had to give - it was yours. He was yours - and it sent your heart racing.

His strong arms wound around you and slid down your back until they came to rest against the curve of your ass, gently groping before he lifted you up so that he could carry you at the waist. He grunted slightly at the effort when he felt your legs eagerly wrap around him, but he did not falter as he made his way toward the bed, making sure to put you down carefully as you sank into the mattress under his kiss.

You moaned again when you felt his tongue run across your lower lip, pushing into your mouth to taste you as he positioned himself between your legs and rocked forward to show you just how aroused he was beneath the tightening fabric of his trousers.

"Take them off..." You pleaded, breath hot and unsteady as your husband pulled away.

Aemond watched the way your chest heaved as he shifted so that he was kneeling upright, but just as his hands reached for his belt he stopped, his eyes drifting down between your legs and lingered a second longer than you were brave enough to allow - yet before you could even think about shying away, Aemond's hands had already found you.

He ran slow circles around your clit, although not quite close enough to where he needed to be, testing and teasing for what you might like, observing the way your body responded to his delicate touch.

"How is this?" He wondered aloud, noting your subdued reaction.

"It is strange to have someone else..." You trailed off, slightly embarrassed.

Nobody had ever seen you so exposed before, let alone indulged in you so freely, and although you had a lifetime of being told that it was sinful and wrong to crave something so carnal beyond what was expected from your marital duties - there was a certain thrill to being desired so endlessly.

"Show me?" Aemond's hands slowed as he asked, waiting as you reached down to guide his fingers to the exact point that would be your undoing.

Your head rolled back with a stifled moan as your hands shot up to cover your own mouth, the sensation almost surreal as he stroked a steady rhythm against you and you ground your hips up to meet it. Finally content that you were enjoying his touch, Aemond leant forward to press his lips to yours again - slowly moving lower to nip at the flushed skin at the base of your neck, as he gathered your arousal and pressed a single finger inside.

"Seven Hells..." You hissed.

His laugh was hot against you, "Good or bad?" his finger slid out and then stroked across your clit again.

"Do it again."

So he did.

You keened as he slipped it back in, releasing a moan when he began to stroke and curl his finger in search of that spark of pleasure that threatened to set you alight, all whilst his tongue dragged down the swell of your breasts to find your nipples peaked against the chill night air.

You had been told of the things that a man might do to take his pleasure, that if he cared enough to prepare it might be pleasant enough for you too, but you had not been warned of this - so you sucked in a sharp breath when you felt the second ease in to join the first, his name falling from your lips as you adjusted to the sensation, your own fingers tangling themselves amidst strands of his silken argent hair as a heat rose in your core.

"So perfect..." He sighed as you heard the thud of Aemond's boots being kicked to the floor, "My pretty little wife."

Your arousal deepened, his fingers thrusting into you with ease, and you eagerly chased the rapture it brought - moaning, breathing, begging for more as your hips moved in time with his touch. The cold metal of his belt clinking suddenly stirred something in you, and that earlier murmur of gratification found you again when you saw him use his spare hand to unhook the buckle blindly and reach for his cock.

He groaned against your collar, stroking himself to desperately relieve the ache that consumed him, burying his face in the crook of your neck as if to hide how wretched he was.

"Aemond..." Your breathless voice won his attention before he was too far gone. "I'm ready, I want it... I need this."

All he offered in response was a broken hum as he withdrew his fingers, adjusting his weight so that he could pull his trousers down the rest of the way and position himself directly between your legs. Your heart leapt at the hard length of him pressing up against your thigh, moaning as he brought his lips to yours once more and kissed you deep and slow.

You were both utterly naked, skin against skin, your bodies intertwined so perfectly that you wondered why you had needed to wait this long to find one another - that even though you had your whole lives ahead of each other, so much time had been stolen already.

Aemond pulled back one last time with a devastatingly soft expression on his face, all the longing and affection he possessed radiating off him in waves as he looked you in the eye and reached down to line himself up.

You both held your breath for a moment and the sound of your own pulse in your ears drowned out everything else inconsequential.

"You are mine..." You whispered, almost in disbelief, reaching up to stroke your thumb across his cheek one last time before your entire world shifted.

Aemond released that shaky breath, then gave his honest reply, "... Until the end of my days." and half a heartbeat later he slowly pushed in.

His head dropped forward when he felt the way you tensed around him, your body taking a little longer to adjust than you had anticipated - the fullness of his cock so different when compared with the adept fingers that you had only just gotten used to. You let out an uncomfortable gasp at how big he is once he hit as far as he could go, and Aemond of course latched onto it.

"Am I hurting you?" He lifted his head to check on you.

"A little," You winced, but then gave him a reassuring smile. "It doesn't hurt, it's just... tight."

"I shall take you slowly then," Aemond sighed and reached for your hand, slotted his fingers between yours and lifted it to rest beside your head as his thumb stroked across the back of your knuckle in a soothing motion. "You said that you wanted us both to enjoy this, remember?"

A swell of emotion washed over you, flowing endlessly like the streams of the Blackwater Rush until you can no longer bear alone the weight of how intimate and safe he made you feel.

"Of all the men in the Seven Kingdoms that I could have married," You crooned, stroking his hair back out of his face as you met his gaze with ardent eyes. "I am so endlessly relieved that it was you."

You tilted your head up to kiss him, heated lips against his own in a yearning embrace, gasping at the way he withdrew his hips only to sheathe himself again in an achingly slow movement - the sensation shifting away from discomfort to something altogether more pleasurable.

"____." He growled your name with a restrained groan and you felt him twitch inside you, his muscles tensed as he tried to maintain that unhurried pace, even though every single nerve in his body screamed for him to be unrelenting.

Part of you craved that, to satisfy the urgency that pooled in the pit of your stomach with each thrust, making sure to spur him along with each hitched breath and moan as you raked your fingers down the length of his back and dug your nails in whenever the promise of pleasure teased your core.

"More..."

You pulled him flush against your skin as soon as you were ready for it, almost desperate to chase the high that seemed to slip away every time you inched closer, and something in your husband just snapped. Aemond propped himself up on both arms, squeezing the hand he held as he pushed his weight down onto it and bent his neck to kiss you again - rougher, more feverish, plunging into you deeper and faster than before.

And suddenly he was hitting you at exactly the right angle, your back arching off the bed with a grateful moan every time his hips collided with the back of your thighs, the sound of nothing but your ragged breaths and skin against skin filling the space between your cries of satisfaction.

"A little longer..." He grunted, as if he could sense that you were close. "Together."

The muscles in his back stiffened at the way you lifted your legs up to wrap around his hips, which allowed him to drive into you with a frantic rhythm that finally carried you to the precipice, clamping down around him with a strangled moan.

As you tumbled over the edge he fell gloriously with you, your shared gratification dulled all thought and reason as you came together, shivering at the way he buried himself to the hilt as your orgasm sparked. It felt like you were burning, skin feverish and slick with sweat as Aemond collapsed against you and buried his head in the crook of your neck - drinking in the scent of your perfume as his hips gradually came to a halt once he was well and truly spent.

Your hands trembled as you slowly wrapped your arms around the width of his back and held him there, stroking and cradling him like that for a while, both of you too exhausted or exhilarated to move or think beyond your current state of existence. He was content with that it seemed, made clear by the way he softly hummed and sank further into your touch, his breathing even and satiated for a time as he pressed soft kisses against your shoulder and unsheathed himself with a tired groan.

"Stay like this." He asked of you, his voice heavy with fatigue.

You let out a soft laugh, "I'm not going anywhere with you on top of me."

"Good."

He nuzzled in closer and wove his arms around you tight, guarding you as if he were a dragon coveting some great treasure amidst the ruins of old Valyria, enjoying one last embrace before he reluctantly peeled his body from yours and lay back against the pillows beside you, and allowed the sweet solace of sleep to consume you both.

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liannafae · 8 days ago

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Holy fuck 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 let me breathe

Hello! I hope you are doing well.

I found a video on YouTube of Ewan and Davey arriving at the McQueen show on Saturday. Ewan looks great!

I don't know if you will be interested in watching it, but here is the link https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4X3lWzv575E

Thank you for sending this! Here it is for anyone else who'd like to see:

#ewan mitchell #alexander mcqueen #davey sutton #my heart #my pookie #pookie bear spotted

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liannafae · 11 days ago

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Happy birthday to my pookie bear, baby girl princess, love of my life Ewan Robert Mitchell. I hope you'll have the best birthday and to see you flourish more as a person. 🫂✨✨✨🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️😘😘😘😘😘

#love of my life #ewan mitchell #my pookie #pulling at my heartstring #let me kiss him #🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵#😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗😗#🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂

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liannafae · 12 days ago

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I need to be sedated and put down like a rabid dog. Because. I mean. just look. AHJAUSJRVEKJEBKELWKWKWBKDKDKDJZBBXNZKZKXKDLSKNDKDKKDKD EWANNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

#ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #somebody sedate me #biting the walls of my enclosure

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liannafae · 13 days ago

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Ugh 😩 where's the next chapter of this pic 😭

Silence of the lambs

Aemond Targaryen x Daemons daughter!reader

summary: You and Aemond married for the peace of the realm even though you disliked each other. Peace is the last thing you would find in your chambers...

warnings: MDNI, subtle violence, reluctant kissing, choking, attempted rape, a bit of a praise, tiddies!, all this but its suppose to be hurt/comfort😭😭 almost 2.3k

a/n: this is the first and probably the last thing I'll ever write. just had some fun and decided to share it here.🩵 English ain't my shit, sorry for the mistakes. hope this won't be a waste of your time divider credit @cafekitsune (hope that's okay) :P

Cold.

Cold and distant.

Two moons passed since your wedding day. Even though you shared chambers, you limped to get used to each other. Stiff. Not present. If you talked, it would be the smallest, briefest conversations only about necessary. Usually it was silence. That’s all you knew. And perhaps it was for the best...

Silence in the morns. Silence in the day. Silence in the nights. Most familiar whisper of your rooms was crunchy fire. The only thing that kept this place from turning into a dungeon.

Dungeon with chains lost on the eyes.

You returned tired to your shared coffins. Spending your evening with pregnant Helaena and her twins. Playing until little offsprings got tired and ready for their cribs. You seeked change. Anything, just to get the obese hours pass quicker.

Hands of wind grabbed your ankles and planted shivers across your skin. Balcony door was wide open. He stood there. Face in his palms. Or so you thought. His back was covering any chance of view. You pursed your lips. Should you worry? Should you talk to him? Would it make things worse?

The slouching of his shoulders made you sigh and slowly approach. You ideated running your palm across his broad form to soothe him. But you feared of overstepping.

"Did something happen?" It was quiet. Not particularly soft, but quiet.

Your eye caught his arms tensing up. You hated that your presence and voice made him like this. You didn’t care at first, but it was becoming frustrating.

He didn't look at you. He was quiet for a long moment before he put you back in your place. "...nothing happened."

You stared at his nape, covered by waves of moonshine. He was being difficult, and you just wanted to go to sleep and close the damn doors. Curling your tongue in your mouth, you gathered strength to stay calm.

"Are you alright?"

You felt his anger grow. The last thing he wanted was your concern and your worry. "I’m fine." He cut the air with his teeth.

Your heart stilled at his harsh tone. Overstepping. You nodded even though he couldn’t see it and warily stepped back into your chambers. You didn’t wish to argue. Deep down you preferred silence over arguments. If he doesn’t wish to speak what’s troubling him, who are you to press matters?

You left him to his thoughts. Retreating with tail between your legs as you started getting yourself ready for the bed.

You were used to him hiding his feelings away but whenever you would show concern (as rare as it was) or try to ask about anything, the storm would just take over his mind. He had no interest to trust you and you respected that. Not like you shared many of your thoughts to him either. To anyone, really. Being the daughter of the man he hated, you understood... to certain extents.

You heard the balcony door close just as you moved the covers under which you planned to hide and let your body and mind rest. He strode over to you, his hand grasping around your upper arm as he turned you around to face him. You gasped in shock and before you could wince from his iron grip, your mouth was muffled by his. Pushing your lips apart with his restless tongue, forcing cold shivers down your spine as he tried to drown you in his control.

You didn’t know what scared you more, his assault or his sudden behavior. You couldn’t tear your arm away. You couldn’t arch your head away. You couldn’t even welcome air in your system. Liquid in your veins was gaining adrenalin. You were almost trembling from fear. You started expecting the worst...

He scoffed at your whines of protest and pushed you on your back, slamming you on the soft mattress. You winced slightly when you hit the bed. Short-term pain quickly overshadowed by terror. His body savaged over yours in an instant.

"Ae- Aemond, what are you- what’s gotten into you!?"

He was deaf as he started pulling your night shift up. And you looked up at him with wide and terrified eyes, unable to fight back his strength. Whatever was dancing in his sharp violet one... it smelled rotten.

"What's gotten into me?" His voice was strained as he fought to keep your limbs in place. A low, mocking laugh rang as he focused his gaze on your heaving chest. "Lets find out."

Your eyelids strained even more. Throat drying up. Breath hitching out of control along with your shaking body.

The only time you consummated was on your wedding night. It wasn’t pleasant. It didn’t hurt, but you weren’t enjoying it. And you knew he didn’t either. This was completely out of the blue and his rage was blood-freezing.

You were scared, yes, but you were more scared of the idea what would happen if you started actually resisting... He never hit you, but the tales of his temper rolled around the corridors like plague.

Dark pleasure filled his stare. He could see the hesitation in you, the tremble and fear. But he didn't care. He knew he had you right where he wanted. His bruising touch on your skin felt ten times heightened now that you fell completely out of control. Getting hunted down...

"Good. That's good..."

Aemond praised with a twisted smile. His hand moved from your wrists to your neck, his large hand wrapping around you and holding you down. You shivered when his palm had more control over your breathing than you. His other hand passed along your body, feeling every curve and angle of your frame. Your breath couldn’t even hitch every time his fingers grazed over your plush stomach and waist. Your fists bagged the sheets firmly and you shut your eyes as you let him do what he wanted.

He was lost in his own desire, in his own lust. Ignoring your discomfort. He just needed to satisfy his needs. He needed to let out his frustration somehow. Or on someone... He continued roaming his hands across your body, touching you like you were a toy.

"You're so beautiful..."

Your eyes shot opened as you heard his mumbles. Seeing how he was fixated on your body, you took the chance before the damage could be done. Marital rape was not on your list tonight. You bit your tongue and dared to touch him, cupping his cheek. "...Can-... can you at least tell me what's wrong?...Please."

His jaw clenched. Your touch was so soft, so gentle and so different from the grip he had on you. It took him by surprise. His eyes locked with yours. He was quiet for a moment, the darkness in his gaze fading for a quickly-lost moment.

"It's nothing. There's nothing wrong." He muttered through gritted teeth, moving his head to the side to avoid your warm hand. His brows twitched into a frown and his hands hooked in your smallclothes.

Your fingers curled into a fist before you let your hand drop. You didn’t know what you were doing. You didn’t know how to calm him. How to reason him. How to talk to him.... You were his wife and you had no clue how to handle him. Bitterness stashed your mouth. You sighed heavily. He already had your mound bare.

"..this won’t solve whatever’s bothering you." You tried to sound calm. Tried to appear like you weren’t fighting for the right over your body right now.

He huffed, becoming more and more irritated with you. Pushing your nightgown over your chest. His voice was low and ragged as he saw how cool air affected your nipples.

"It would. It can. At least for a moment.."

"Please, let me help you.." ..somehow, you hoped. Carding your hand through his silver locks, pulling the strands back so they weren’t falling over your faces as he loomed over you.

"....I’ll listen. I promise." And you meant it. You’d do anything to avoid this situation. If it meant behaving like a proper loving wife who listens and cares, you would do it. Despite the resentment you hold for each other.

Your gazes locked as he listened to your pointless rambles. There was a flicker of hesitation, but he flashed it away with a mutter as he cupped your breasts. "It's nothing. I just had a bad day."

"Then let me hear about your day."

You covered his big hands with yours and you felt him twitch. Surprise washed over his face as he looked back up your eyes once again. You noticed his observing eye roam over your features and you softened your whole demeanor. You meant it. You were fucking tired of this. The silence. The distance. The feeling of constant unwelcomeness. You just wanted to enter your chambers ONCE and be relaxed in his presence...

Looking at you, seeking sincerity and curiosity in your eyes, he closed his own and sighed. "It was tiresome, lots of meeting, training, planning for the future... everything that’s expected of me."

You nodded slowly, listening to every word that rolled off his tongue. And you noticed it. A silver of honesty, perhaps even trust. Your nails skied up his arm, gently scratching his nape. You wanted to make him as calm as possible. "...you’re tired..?"

Aemond let out a low purr, his eye fluttering shut. "Hm."

You pulled his shoulders so he would lay down on you, wrapping arms around his neck. You felt tension all over his body, but you didn’t care. If he thinks he can do whatever he wanted with you, so could you with him. You tucked his head under your chin.

You were trying to value his emotions. As hard as it was... you understood what he meant. You didn’t know every detail of his training nor his council meetings, but you knew what it meant to be drained. Exhausted. And that was enough to make you empathic.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breathing ragged and heavy. You held him tighter, your arms getting a rush of protectiveness. Letting him find shelter in your embrace. Solace in your arms. Peace in your scent and warmth. You wanted to make him feel heard and seen. He held onto you, his arms wrapping around your waist as if he was holding onto for dear life. You felt it. You sensed the shift. He was allowing you to see him. To see his vulnerability. To dive below the surface of his thick skin.

"It's just too much sometimes. I don't know if I can do it anymore." You felt his lips brush along your skin as he mumbled quietly.

"I know. I know it is, but draining yourself to the last drop isn’t doing you any good. And satisfying everyone’s expectations is impossible."

You tried to comfort him. And seeing this softer side of him. This... lost, broken boy. It made you desire gentleness towards him.

"...I know you don’t like being told what to do, but I’m advising you... let that dumb old cunt go. Otto is not worth your time or energy. He never was. Ungrateful people don’t deserve the effort you’re putting up, Aemond."

From your FAR point of view you knew enough. You knew why Aemond was the way he was. Even though you struggled to understand his dark motives most of the time, you understood where he was coming from. And being a child loved only under conditions does that to a person. You secretly admired that he’s still standing and isn’t reaching for cups like Aegon.

"I know. It’s hard to see it and let go, especially when that someone is your family..."

You sighed, plucking the right words...

"...but I’m your family now."

Even though your marriage has been distant and cold, you still had time to change that... right?

His silence made you chew your lips nervously. You really had no idea what you were doing nor saying... He shifted slightly to look at you, his eye overflowing with emotions. He didn't say anything, just looked at you, searching your face for something.

"I know you didn’t choose me. I know I didn’t choose you. I know we agreed only for the greater good, but... I’m tired sometimes as well. I wish we didn’t resent each other."

You whispered honestly while taking in his pained expression. It broke your heart knowing even you, his wife, struggled to give him the care and affection.

He took a deep breath and gently touched your cheek, his fingertips lightly caressing your skin. "I'm sorry for the way I've been... towards you." He whispered and pulled the nightgown down, covering your body.

You leaned into his touch. Wanting him to know that he’s welcome to you from now on. Your smiled even though you were terrified when he jumped you. "...it’s our first time being married, right?"

Aemonds eye wrinkled, a small, barely-there smile tugged the corners of his lips.

It was nice to see him smile, even if the situation was far from funny, but he was calm. And that’s all that mattered to you.

Warm.

Warm and close.

Silence. That’s all you knew. And yet... it felt good. It felt right.

You helped him with the buttons of his leather doublet. Changing him in his night clothes as you both exchanged soft looks and amused smiles. You hid under the sheets and cuddled until you let lambs bounce your minds away. You let him sleep in your chest.. cling to you.. seek your comfort. And you didn’t even wish to think about denying him. For the first time, you felt truly at peace in his presence. You will be the wife he needs.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond one eye #prince aemond #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond x oc #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader

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liannafae · 13 days ago

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That's my baby boy ❤️🫂✨💕

AEMOND TARGARYEN + younger vs. older

#aemond targaryen #leo ashton #ewan mitchell #hello son

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liannafae · 16 days ago

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I need this as a whole ass series. This is just too short for my heart, I demand justice for making it this short 😭😭😭😭😤😤😤

Aemond x wife reader pillow talk

Summary: all y/n wants is just a sliver of warmth from her husband Aemond

CW: angst, arranged marriage, arguing

Word count: 1220

“May we speak Aemond before you leave “She pulls the sheets up to cover herself. Aemond was already getting dressed again. “ we can speak I suppose, “ he said bluntly. She took a deep breath “ I know that this marriage isn’t what you wanted and I cannot expect some great love, however I … I want us to have something at least some warmth some comfort anything “. Aemond sat up sharply “ I will do my duty to you as a husband nothing more, “ he said.

“Well isn’t it part of your duty to care for me … I’m a lady I have a need for these things, you can find it elsewhere with lovers and whores but I I can’t I am here away from home and my family and the only person I have is you yet you can’t show me even an ounce of warmth, I don’t want this for me I don’t want this for our future children “ she explained.

Aemond turned to look at her “You shouldn’t solely rely on me for .. warmth “ he said the word like its very syllables left poison on his tongue. Rising from the bed he left without another word.

——

“This is taking awfully long, “ he said exasperated. “I don’t understand people have children by accident!, yet it has been months of trying and I’m still no closer to an heir “. He sat up in frustration messy silver locks adorning his back. “It will happen when it will there’s nothing we can do nature has to take its course” y/n tried to calm him down gently untangling the hair on his back and sitting next to him. “ I just don’t understand why this is so difficult, “ he says.

“ well my mother always said that children will not be brought to an unhappy couple by the gods,” y/n said trying to catch his eye. “ seriously you want to make this about what you want again “ he recoiled from her touch. “ that is not how I meant it and it’s not just about me this clearly affecting you so you cannot tell me that this is what you want out of marriage “ she tried to move closer to him again . “ what I want out of this marriage is an heir! “ he yelled “ I don’t give a shit about grand romance and love and warmth, that was never meant for me “ he continued.

“ I’m sorry I can’t give you what you want “ she whispered standing up for the bed and grabbing her chemise . “ why is love not meant for you Aemond” she asked cautiously looking back at him before she left.

“ you have met me you know why, “ he said “ I’m a kin slayer, I am cruel and cold, and nobody but my family dares talk to me, I was simply not made to do this, we simply both need to do our duties and then the rest doesn’t matter, you cannot change who I am, so stay in your place and do your duty ” he demanded. “ well unfortunately shear dutifulness cannot conjure up a babe ” y/n yelled in return storming out of his chambers.

———

“Where have you been!” Aemond yelled as he found y/n in the gardens. “ here “ she said looking at a flower in her hand. “ You were supposed to be in my chambers I summoned you multiple times “ he yanked the flower from her hands. “ skipping one time won’t make a difference anyway “ she replied. “you have a duty to your husband and to the realm,” he said. “ and what of your duty to me !“ she stood up from her seat to face him. “I have fulfilled all my duties you have a home allowance staff anything you could wish for, “ he said looking straight at her . “ yes I have that but I don’t have the one thing I truly want a husband who cares for me why can’t you understand that this is a need for me” she stepped closer to him as tears welled in her eyes. the others in the garden could here their arguing and began to form a crowd. “ your making a scene “ he said grabbing her arm guiding her away from the crowd.

———

“So what is it you want from me what would make you feel the warmth you need” he had asked sitting up in the bed and getting ready to leave. “Well for a start not rushing away the second you're done bedding me would be nice…. It makes me feel like a common whore“ she said the last part more cautiously. “ I don’t intend to make you feel like that you’re my wife you should be able to feel pride in that “She gestured for him to lay back down which he did. “ you know we have never actually slept in the same bed “ she moved closer to him. “ that’s not too uncommon “ Aemond replied. “Why do you stay in my bed for so long after we lay together” he asked suddenly. “ laying down is supposed to help the seed take, I also like to lay in your bed it’s soft and it smells nice and it’s really the closest I can get to true intimacy with you, “ she said looking at him laying down. “I would consider laying together quite intimate “ he replied, she chuckled “ do you really consider what we do intimate, me laying in bed like a starfish while you.., it feels mechanical to me like it’s just another duty to you, “ she said. “ it is my duty, “ he said bluntly. “ I know but I simply wish you would want to do it and not force yourself, is it that I’m not enticing to you “ she spoke softly.

“ no you’re quite beautiful my lady it's just that I’m not one who enjoys this “ he replied avoiding her eye contact. “ then why do you go to brothels, “ she asked confused. “ I don’t go to brothels I go to one brothel where …. I pay for women to simply hold me, I know it is strange it’s…“he said quietly. “ it’s not strange you’re seeking warmth, what I don’t understand is why won’t you accept mine why do you pay another woman to hold you when I could do the same ” she reaches out to hold his hand. “ I’m your husband it’s not my role to seek comfort from you,” he said as he allowed her to hold his hand. “ marriage is more than a contract and a set of roles Aemond. I know you don’t love me but that doesn’t keep me from caring for you “She moved close to him squeezing his hand. He pulled her in closer she wrapped her arms around him and he buried his head in her chest listening intently to the rhythmic beating of her heart. The two stayed in silence holding each other as they lay in bed enveloped in each other's warmth.

#aemond one eye #aemond x reader #hotd fic #aemond targaryen #x reader #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #fanfic #hotd aemond #angst #hurt/comfort #arranged marriage

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liannafae · 17 days ago

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Louder 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

it always hurts my heart to see that aegon and helaena were breaking the patterns of abuse with their family, only to have it all torn apart.

you can say all you want about aegon, how horrible he is, but he is the best targaryen/hightower father in house of the dragon. point blank period. otto sucked, daemon sucked and so did viserys. helaena and him were forced to have children at the ages of 13-15 years old.

they were babies, raising babies and they raised them with love. no, aegon wasn't the most present but when push came to shove and he was forced to become king. he decided it was best to start jaehaerys off early, to show him the courtesy and love he was never shown. he does not hit his children, he doesn't yell. he is mindful of his wife, they banter like siblings but he also tries his best to comfort her.

team black will minimize them as much as they'd like, but you'd be a fool not to see what's placed so carefully in front of you. helaena and aegon had a family, and because of the war (which i will remind you again, neither of them wanted the throne) they lost their son. they lost each other, everything they know is now falling apart.

they are only around 17-19 years old in season two when this is happening. can you even fucking imagine something so disgustingly horrid happening to your child at that age? any age, it's disturbing but they are still barely adults. their brains aren't even fully developed, now that's hindered even moreso from the sheer trauma of this event.

they love each other but they can't come together because they were never properly taught how to do so. im positive they both feel guilty, both of them blame themselves for jaehaerys' death.

and before you come at me with "he only cares because that was his heir".

no, he literally says to criston. "a bed? A BED?! instead of safeguarding the sanctity of my family."

his family, his. they are his responsibility, he is supposed to make sure they're safe. i can't even fathom how guilty that must make him feel. that he was off getting drunk, having a grand time with his friends, meanwhile his wife and children were being threatened and his son was brutally murdered. yeah, that's bound to make someone hate themselves even more than he already does.

and helaena? well, they stole her madness and replaced it with something gentle. i would like to think she's dissociating from it all as a coping mechanism. she's absolutely devastated in episode two so we know how it's affecting her and death comes to everyone differently.

my poor babies 💔 their family deserved better. they should have all run away on dragon back before the coronation.

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #aegon ii x helaena #helaena targaryen #hotd imagine #anti team black #helaegon #hotd rant

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liannafae · 24 days ago

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I want another chapter please and thank you 💅🏻🤭🫂😭

"Freak On a Leash" - Aemond Targaryen

Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: So what if you're fucking the weird dude? He has good dick game. But how were you supposed to know he gets attached easily?

Warnings: SMUT (18+); (pretty rough) car sex; oral (f!receiving); name calling (slut, whore etc); dark!Aemond near the end; hair pulling; choking; ass slapping; mentions of violence and blood

Words: 5.5k

Notes: No description of the reader. This was just going to be porn without a plot... but ofc I had to add some plot smh. This isn't dark dark, but it does contain some of the elements of it so... do not read it if you are not comfortable with that

𐔌 . ⋮ aera .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

He was weird, unsettling, and genuinely offputting. That's why your friends were baffled to know that you were fucking him multiple times a week, in the backseat of his car, no less. "He has good dick," you tried to tell them, saying it was worth it. But your words fell on deaf ears as none of them understood. Why him?

With long hair dyed black with a cheap store colour and a run-down 2005 Volvo S40, he didn't seem the kind of guy who could fuck a girl until her throat was raw. But you knew the truth. That's why you kept coming back, time after time.

So it was no surprise that, once again, you found yourself in his lap. In the backseat of his car, kissing and moaning, his hard cock pressing into your aching core.

"Blood?" You ask as you taste copper on your tongue when kissing his jaw.

"Don't act like you don't find that hot," he grunted, a smug expression on his face. It's probably because whoever he fought, lost.

You smiled playfully, your lips brushing against his once more, caught in a moment where admitting he was right felt like submitting. The warmth between you grew, leaving just the two of you.

He tangled his fingers in your hair for a second before shifting his attention downward, fumbling with the delicate fabric of your flimsy top. The skin-tight shirt clung to your curves, resisting his attempts as if it had a will of its own. Frustration flickered across his face, but it was quickly replaced by determination as he continued to work his way around the stubborn material.

"Just rip it open for fuck's sake," you groan as he fumbles with your skin-tight white top. Your hips instinctively roll on top of his, ruining your cute white cotton panties with your juices.

Aemond groans deeply at your words. With a quick, decisive motion, he rips the fabric open, the sound of the tear deafening. Your black lacy bra is revealed, the delicate lace a stark contrast to his rough, calloused hands as they cup your breasts.

"Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the thin lace. "Gonna fucking wreck you."

He leans in, his hot mouth latching onto one nipple through the bra as his other hand slides down to rub your clit through your soaked panties. He groans against your skin at the wetness he finds there, the sound vibrating through you.

Oh gods, you are so fucking wet for him. You can feel your arousal soaking through the thin cotton, staining it with your desperation. You grind harder against the rigid bulge straining against his jeans, needing more friction, and more contact.

"So fucking wet for me already," he murmurs, his fingers pushing the fabric aside to delve between your folds. "Gonna make you come so hard."

You roll your hips harder against Aemond's bulge, your clit throbbing with every grind. Your skirt hangs loosely around your waist, resembling more of a belt.

"Fuck, these songs suck ass," you grumbled, reaching for Aemond's phone and scrolling through his playlists until you find something more to your liking. The change in music elicits a growl from Aemond, but you just smirk and lean in close, your lips brushing his jaw. The bass line of Rob Zombie's "Dragula" thumps through the car, a perfect complement to the nasty thoughts running through your mind.

"Okay, now you can fuck me," you giggle, your teeth grazing his skin before you soothe the sting with your tongue. You can taste the salt of his sweat, the copper tang of blood - a reminder of the fight he must have been in. Your curiosity gets the better of you.

"Who the fuck did you fight this time?" You ask, your voice low and husky with desire. But even as you speak, your focus is on the delicious friction between your legs, the way Aemond's hard length rubs against your aching core with every roll of your hips.

"Fucking some new guy, thought he could take me," Aemond growls, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he grinds up against you. "Taught him a lesson real quick."

He leans in, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he speaks. "He won't be coming back anytime soon. Not after the way I shattered his ribs." His fingers dig into your hips, pulling you down harder onto his cock.

"Now, quit talking and start begging for it," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear. He places a few light smacks on your cheek, making you smile at the lewd actions.

You shake your head, a wide smile spreading across your face as your eyes lose focus. The depravity of the situation, the dingy car, the smell of sweat and sex, it all makes you even wetter. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.

"You know I don't beg," you whisper, your lips brushing against his earlobe as you suck on it gently. Your teeth graze the sensitive skin, making him groan.

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging in hard enough to leave marks. He sounds almost angry as he growls, "You'd better fucking start, or I'll stop right here."

"Fuck," you whimper as his bulge nudges against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure through your body. Your brows furrow, your eyes squeezed shut as you grind down harder, seeking more of that delicious friction.

To emphasize his point, he stills his hips, denying you the friction you crave. His other hand moves from your breast to wrap around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

"Please, Aemond," you moan, your voice breaking with need. "Fuck me. Use me. Make me forget everything but your cock inside me."

Aemond's eyes darken with lust at your words, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "That's more like it," he purrs, his grip on your throat relaxing just slightly. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a teasing kiss.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his free hand moving down to grip your ass, fingers digging into the soft flesh. He pulls you down hard, grinding his clothed cock against your aching cunt.

"Gonna make you scream for me," he growls, his other hand moving from your throat to tangle in your hair. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth. He latches on, sucking hard enough to leave a mark, his teeth grazing your skin.

His hips are moving now, grinding up against you in a filthy rhythm. The rough denim of his jeans rubs against your sensitive clit. You can feel the heat of him through the fabric, the hard length of his cock straining against his zipper.

You moan sluttily, desperate, shameless noises filling his car. You're too far gone to care about your pride. Impatiently, you tug the cups of your bra down, exposing your hardened nipples to the cool air. They're almost painfully sensitive, aching to be sucked.

"Suck," you command, your voice low and demanding. You arch your back, offering your breasts to him like a sacrificial lamb.

Aemond's eyes darken at your demand, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Oh, so you think you're in charge here, do you?" he growls, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

You gasp at the sharp pain, your eyes watering. "I think you need to be put in your place, slut," he sneers, his other hand roughly palming your breast.

He leans in, his hot breath ghosting over your exposed nipple. "Beg for it," he commands, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallow hard, your pride fading due to your desperate need. "Please," you whimper, your voice small and needy. "Suck my tits, I need it so bad."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his teeth grazing your nipple. "That's more like it," he growls before his mouth envelops the sensitive bud.

You cry out, your back arching as he suckles hard, his tongue swirling around the hardened peak. The pleasure is intense, bordering on pain, and you can feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you moan, your hand moving to the back of his head, trying to push him closer. But he pulls away, shaking his head.

"Hands off," he commands, his eyes flashing with anger. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

You whimper, your hand falling away. "Sorry," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with shame.

Aemond just smirks, his hand moving to your other breast, roughly squeezing the soft flesh. "Good girl," he purrs, before diving back in, his mouth hot and wet on your aching nipple.

You moan, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the sensation.

"Fuck, you taste good," he growls against your skin, his hand moving to pinch and roll your other nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations make you cry out, your back arching as you press yourself further into his touch.

He releases your nipple with a wet pop, blowing cool air over the damp flesh. You whimper at the loss, your body craving more of his touch. "That's better," he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest. "You know your place."

Aemond's hand moves from your hair to your throat again, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "You gonna be a good girl and let me fuck you senseless?"

Your heart races, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as Aemond's hand tightens around your throat. The lack of oxygen only adds to the haze of lust clouding your mind. You nod frantically, your eyes wide and pleading.

"Yes, yes, I'll be good," you whimper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond's lips curve into a wicked grin against your skin, his teeth grazing your earlobe. "Fuck, you're so desperate for it, aren't you?" he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hip, fingers digging into your skin hard enough to bruise.

He grinds up against you, the rough denim of his jeans rubbing against your aching clit. The friction is delicious, but not nearly enough. You need more. You need him inside you, stretching you, filling you.

"Yes, fuck yes, I'm desperate for it," you pant, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you inside me, Aemond. I love it when you use me."

Aemond chuckles darkly, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. "Fuck, you're such a dirty little slut," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your hair instead. He yanks your head back, exposing your neck to his hungry mouth.

"Gonna fucking ruin you," he promises, his teeth grazing your skin. "Gonna make you scream for me."

"Fuck, you're so wet," he groans. He yanks your head back, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are dark with lust, filled with the depravity to come.

"Gonna fuck you so hard, you'll be feeling it for days," he promises, his hand moving from your hair to grip your throat again. He squeezes, cutting off your air supply just for a moment before releasing.

You gasp, your lungs burning for oxygen. But even then you still smile at him, biting your lip.

Aemond's eyes darken at the sight, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Fuck, you're perfect," he growls, his hand releasing your throat to grip your ass hard enough to bruise. "A sight for sore eyes," he smirks, looking into your glossy eyes.

"Shit, I need to eat you out first," he groans, his jeans pressing down painfully on his throbbing cock.

He slides off the seat, kneeling between your legs as he slides your panties to the side impatiently. The scent of your arousal is thick in the air, making his cock throb with need. The cool air hits your aching cunt, making you shiver.

"Fuck, you smell incredible," he growls, his hot breath ghosting over your slick folds. He leans in, his tongue darting out to lap at your clit, making you cry out.

He groans at the taste of you, his tongue delving deeper, licking through your folds and fucking into your entrance. He eats you out like a man starved, his tongue moving in and out, his lips sucking on your clit.

His fingers delving between your folds. He brings them up to your lips, pressing them against your mouth. "Taste how fucking desperate you are for me."

You open your mouth obediently, sucking his fingers into your mouth. The taste of your arousal explodes on your tongue, musky and sweet. You moan around his fingers, your tongue licking and sucking, cleaning them of your juices.

Aemond's eyes darken with lust as he watches you suck his fingers clean, your tongue swirling around the digits. He growls low in his throat, his free hand moving to grip your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly.

"Fuck, you're so hot like this," he growls, his fingers popping out of your mouth.

He gets back up, leaving you unsatisfied and annoyed.

He grabs your hair, forcing your head back and making you look up at him. His eyes are dark with lust, his jaw clenched as he battles for control.

"Strip," he commands, his voice low and dangerous. "I want you fucking naked, now."

You scramble to obey, yanking your bra off, your breasts bouncing free, nipples hard and aching for his touch. Your miniskirt and panties are next, puddled on the floor of the car, leaving you bare and exposed.

"Shit, you look so good," Aemond growls, his eyes raking over your naked form. "I almost don't even want to ruin you... almost"

He flips you on your hands and knees, pushing your head down, forcing your ass in the air, holes completely exposed to him. He yanks you forward, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise. "Brace yourself, slut," he growls, grinding his clothed cock against your bare pussy. "Gonna fucking wreck you."

You crane your neck to look back at Aemond, a scoff leaving your lips. "Take a picture, it'll last longer," you mock, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

His eyes darken at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest. "Oh, I'll take more than just a picture, baby," he promises, his hand coming down on your ass in a sharp smack.

You gasp at the sting, your pussy clenching in anticipation. "Promises, promises," you taunt, wiggling your ass invitingly. "You talk a big game, but I bet you can't even get it half hard."

Aemond's grip on your hips tightens, his nails digging into your skin hard enough to leave marks. "Fuck, you're so goddamn cocky," he snarls. "Gonna shut that smart mouth of yours."

You moan at the contact, your head falling forward as you push your ass back against him. "Big talk, dickhead," you pant, your voice breathy with need. "Let's see what you've got."

Aemond responds to your taunts with a sharp smack to your ass, the sound echoing in the confined space of the car. "Fuck, you're asking for it," he growls, his hand coming down again, harder this time.

You gasp, your ass jiggling from the impact. "Shit, you're making a mess of me," you whine, wiggling your hips. Your pussy is throbbing, aching to be filled.

"That's the idea, slut," Aemond grunts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your ass cheeks. He spreads them apart, exposing your tight holes to his hungry gaze. "Gonna fucking wreck this tight little ass."

His hands move to his zipper, slowly dragging it down. The sound of the metal seems obscenely loud in the confined space of the car.

He pushes his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, the thick shaft springing up, hard and ready. The head is already slick with precum, the veins along the length pulsing with his heartbeat.

He spits in his palm, rubbing his saliva over his cock, giving it some lubrication. Then he's pressing the tip against your drooling hole, the rough denim of his jeans scraping against your sensitive skin.

"Fuck, you're so fucking tight," he groans, pushing forward, the head of his cock breaching your hole. You cry out, the stretch intense, bordering on pain.

"Relax, slut," he commands, his hand coming down on your ass again. "Take that fucking cock like a good whore."

He starts to move, his hips rocking back and forth, inch by inch of his thick shaft sinking into your tight heat. Your walls clench around him, trying to adjust to the intrusion, but he doesn't give you time.

He starts fucking you in earnest, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper with each thrust. The car rocks with the force of his movements, the seat creaking beneath you.

"Fuck, you take it so well," he pants, his hand moving from your ass to grip your hip, holding you in place as he fucks into you. "Gonna fucking ruin this tight ass."

You moan, your hands gripping the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather. The pain in your ass mixes with the pleasure, making your head spin.

"Harder," you beg, pushing your hips back to meet his, desperate for more. "Fuck me harder, shit."

Your juices drip down your thighs, pooling on the leather seat below as Aemond pounds into you.

Your hands grip the seat, nails digging into the cracked leather as you brace yourself for the onslaught. Aemond's hands are everywhere - gripping your hips, squeezing your ass, tugging at your hair. He uses you like a rag doll, fucking you with an animalistic need.

Aemond grunts, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. "Fuck, you want it hard, slut?" he growls, his voice strained with effort. "Gonna fucking give it to you."

He pulls nearly all the way out, leaving just the tip inside your stretched hole. Then he slams back in, his hips connecting with your ass with a sharp smack. He sets a brutal pace, fucking into you recklessly, the car swaying with his thrusts.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight," he pants, sweat dripping down his face, his messy black hair sticking to his skin.

You can only moan, your mouth hanging open as you gasp for air. Your breasts bounce with each powerful thrust, your nipples hard and aching for attention.

Aemond's hand moves from your hip to your breast, squeezing the soft flesh roughly. He pinches your nipple between his fingers, twisting and tugging, sending sparks of pain through your body.

"Fuck, your tits are perfect," he groans, his hand moving to your other breast, giving it the same treatment.

You whimper, your pussy clenching around his pistoning cock. The combination of pain and pleasure is overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You reach down, fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. The added stimulation makes you see stars, your back arching as you moan.

"Fuck, you're such a dirty girl," Aemond pants. "Getting off on being used like a fucking toy."

"Shit, I'm close," you pant, your nails digging into the leather seat and your fingers moving on your clit. "Don't stop, fuck, don't stop," you moan, your hips bucking back against him, seeking more friction. His fingers rub your clit in tight circles, the pressure building with each stroke.

He pulls your hair, forcing your back to arch, your ass pushing back against him. The new angle allows him to go even deeper, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars.

"That's it, take it all you little slut," he pants, his hand moving from your tit to your clit, replacing your hand, rubbing the sensitive nub in tight circles.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," you whimper, your body tensing. "Please, Aemond, please."

"Do it," he commands, his fingers moving faster on your clit. "Come for me like the good little whore you are."

With a cry, you shatter, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clenches around his cock, your walls rippling along his shaft.

Aemond groans, his hips stuttering as your orgasm milks his cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he growls, his thrusts becoming erratic. "Where do you want me to spill?"

Your body convulses as the intense orgasm rips through you, your vision blurring and stars bursting behind your eyelids. "On my ass, fuck!" You cry out, the words torn from your throat. "Cum all over my ass!"

You arch your back, pushing your hips against Aemond's, desperate for more. Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him.

You can feel his grip on your hips tighten, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chases his release. The sound of your skin slapping together fills the car, mixed with your heavy breathing and moans of pleasure.

Aemond's cock throbs inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic as your pussy milks him. He growls low in his throat, his hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back.

"Fuck, gonna paint your ass white," he pants, his hips slamming against your ass with bruising force.

He pulls out abruptly, his cock slipping from your clenching hole with a wet sound. You whimper at the loss, your pussy aching to be filled again.

Aemond's hand comes down on your ass in a sharp smack, the sting making you gasp. "Present yourself," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "Wanna see you take my load like a good little whore."

You arch your back even more, spreading your thighs as far as you can in the limited space. Your spasming holes are on full display for his hungry gaze.

Aemond kneels behind you, his cock in his hand, stroking it with quick, rough motions. "Fuck, you're such a good little girl," he pants, his eyes dark with lust as they roam over your body. "Too bad you're such a filthy slut."

He starts to come, his cock jerking in his hand as thick ropes of cum splatter across your ass and pussy. You moan, your fingers dipping between your folds to gather some of his cum, bringing it to your mouth.

"Fuck, look at you," Aemond groans, his hand still working his shaft, milking out every last drop. "Eating my cum like the dirty whore you are."

He collapses next to you on the seat, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. He reaches out, his fingers tangling in your hair, tugging your head back to look at him.

"You're fucking perfect," he growls, his eyes intense as they bore into yours. "Mine."

"Mhm," you hum, collapsing onto Aemond's chest, your body spent and sated. The car reeks of sex and sweat, your combined releases staining the seats. It's filthy and sinful, turning you on.

Aemond's arms wrap around you, pulling you close as he strokes your hair. You nuzzle into his neck, breathing in his scent, a mix of cologne and sex.

"That was intense," you murmur, your voice low and breathy. "You really know how to fuck a girl stupid."

Aemond chuckles, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Fucking right I do," he boasts, his fingers tangling in your hair. "You're a damn good lay, too. Always so fucking eager for my cock."

He tugs on your hair, forcing your head back to look at him. His eyes are dark, filled with lust and possessiveness. "You're mine," he growls, his voice low and dangerous. "This tight little body belongs to me."

"Such a good girl," he praises, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your swollen lips. "Gonna keep you."

You smile against his fingers, a wicked gleam in your eyes. "Keep me for what?" you tease. "You're not my man. I'm not your's to keep," you whisper, feeling an ache in your heart for some reason.

Aemond's eyes flash with a dangerous light, his grip on your chin tightening as he yanks your face closer to his.

His grip on your chin tightened. "The fuck I'm not," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I've had you more times than I can count. I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make when I'm buried inside you."

He shifts, his face mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your lips. "You're mine, whether you admit it or not."

His other hand slides down your body, fingers dipping between your thighs to gather the cum leaking from your abused hole. He brings it to your lips, smearing it across them.

"Look at you, so fucking dirty, so desperate for my cum. You can pretend all you want, but deep down, you know you belong to me."

He crashes his lips against yours in a bruising kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you with a ferocity that steals your breath.

When he pulls back, you're panting, your lips swollen and tingling. "You're mine," he whispers, his voice rough with emotion. "And I'm never letting you go."

His words send a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and something else, something you're not quite ready to name.You press your forehead against his, your eyes fluttering closed as you try to steady your breathing.

"I don't belong to anyone," you whisper, but there's no conviction in your voice. "We're just fucking, Aemond. Don't make it more than it is."

Aemond's eyes darken, a flash of anger crossing his face before it's quickly replaced with a predatory smirk. "Just fucking?" he repeats, his voice low and dangerous. "Is that what you think this is?"

He sits up, pulling you with him so you're straddling his lap. His hands grip your hips, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he holds you in place.

"We've been doing this for months, baby," he reminds you, his voice rough. "You think I don't know the difference between a quick fuck and what we have?"

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I know every inch of this body, every fucking sound you make, every way you tremble and writhe when I'm inside you."

"Stop fighting it," he growls, his eyes boring into yours. "You might tell your friends that this means nothing to you, that you think I'm some creepy guy you fuck. Yet you still keep coming back.."

Your breath catches in your throat, his words sending a shiver down your spine. How does he know? You've never told him those things. You shake your head, a strand of hair falling across your face. "No, I've never said that," you whisper, your voice trembling. "I swear."

You try to pull away, but his grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place. His eyes bore into yours, dark and intense, searching for any sign of deceit. "I wouldn't say those things about you," you insist. "I don't think you're weird."

Aemond's eyes narrow, his grip on your hips tightening until it almost hurts. "Don't lie to me," he growls, his voice low and menacing. "I know you talk shit about me to your friends. I know you think I'm some kind of freak."

He leans in, his breath hot against your cheek. "But you keep coming back, don't you? You keep spreading your legs for me, begging me to fuck you like the desperate little slut you are."

His hand moves from your hip to your throat, his thumb brushing over your pulse point. "You can't resist me, can you? No matter how much you try to pretend, your body knows who it belongs to."

He squeezes your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your heart race. "I've heard you, baby," he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "I've heard you call me a freak, a deviant. But you still come back, letting me use your tight little body for my pleasure."

Your cheeks flush with shame and embarrassment as Aemond's words sink in. You try to pull away from his grip, your naked bodies still intertwined, but his hold is too strong. "Yes, fine. I have said those things about you," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

You search his eyes, trying to find the right words. "Aemond, you fight people. You're dangerous." You say it with a seriousness that misrepresents the thrill that runs through you at the very thought. It's the danger that makes him so appealing.

You sigh, your fingers caressing his face, tracing the strong lines of his jaw. "Must you have such an effect on me?" You mutter, before leaning in to kiss him.

Aemond's lips meet yours in a savage kiss, his tongue plundering your mouth with a fierce intensity. His grip on your throat tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he holds you in place.

When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily, your lips swollen and stinging from the force of his kiss.

"You fuckin' love it," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "You love the danger, the thrill of being with a man who can break you."

"Admit it," he presses, his voice low and dangerous. "You get off on the fact that I could snap anyone's fucking neck with one hand."

Aemond's grip on your throat loosens, his thumb stroking your pulse point in a surprisingly tender gesture.

"Would you ever hurt me?" You whisper, your breath hot on his lips, your faces mere inches apart. A flicker of fear in your eyes, but it's quickly overshadowed by the desire burning within you. You search his gaze, looking for any sign of malice, any hint of danger. But all you see is raw, primal hunger.

Your fingers trace the lines of his jaw. He's so close. It's intoxicating and terrifying at once. You have seen him fight, seen the way he's hurt others with minimal effort. He could break you, shatter you into a million pieces if he wanted to.

Aemond's eyes soften for a moment, a rare vulnerability flickering in their depths. "You think I'd hurt you?" he asks, his voice low and rough. "Baby, I'd die before I let anyone lay a finger on you."

He leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. "You're mine," he growls, his voice fierce with possessiveness. "And I protect what's mine."

His hand slides from your throat to your cheek, cupping your face gently. "I may be aggressive, but I'm not a pig," he murmurs, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. "I'd never hurt you, not like that."

"But make no mistake," he whispers, his voice low and dangerous. "I'll hurt anyone who tries to take you from me."

You bite his thumb lightly as he speaks, his possessive demeanour sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Anyone who would hurt me?" You purr, leaning into his touch like a small lamb. His words ignite a fire deep within you, a primal desire to be owned, claimed, and protected.

You know you shouldn't give in to this, but you can't help yourself. The way he looks at you like you are the only woman in the world, it's intoxicating.

Aemond growls low in his throat, his eyes darkening with lust at the feel of your teeth on his skin. "That's right, baby," he purrs, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, tangling in your hair. "You're mine, and I'll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you away from me."

Your breath hitches in your throat at Aemond's words, his dangerous claims sending a shiver down your spine. You meet his gaze, your eyes are wide and full of devotion, a vulnerability you rarely show to anyone.

He tugs you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light kiss. "I'll protect you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. "I'll cherish you. I'll fucking worship you."

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. "I'm yours," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "Body and soul."

Aemond's eyes flash with fierce triumph at your words, a primal look of satisfaction spreading across his face. "That's right, you're fucking mine," he growls, tugging you closer and crushing his lips to yours in a searing kiss.

"Get dressed, pretty girl. I'm taking you to my place," he demands, leaving no room for argument.

Aemond's eyes blaze with desire as he watches you scramble to put on your clothes, your naked body still slick with his cum. He licks his lips, his cock already hardening again at the sight of you.

He helps you to the passenger seat, smirking. "Hope you don't mind a messy ride."

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #ewan nation

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liannafae · 26 days ago

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I am not going to move on from this 😭😭😭

Ewan was so cute and lovely as always but his breaking my heart 😭 that should have been me baby 😭😭😭 (joke)

Anyway, great job both of them it seemed Ewan had a lot of fun. But the actress was so so lucky. I didn't imagine that I will see the day that Ewan will have his FIRST on screen kiss OAIAHWUWVNWKWKEKDKWKD I need time to prepare for Alys and Aemonds scenes for Season 3 😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺

#ewan mitchell #fontaines d.c.#its amazing to be young #its should be me #breaking the walls of my enclosure #😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

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liannafae · 27 days ago

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Another gold to be added 💕❤️

Care & Keeping

summary: after aegon suffers injuries at rook's rest, you and aemond nurse him back to health

pairing: aemond targaryen x sister!reader x aegon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, canon typical incest, mentioned canon injuries, no gore, threeway relationship, threesome, teasing, orgasm delay, unprotected sex, titty sucking, oral sex (m!receiving), fingering, dirty talk, aegond fr like they kiss and stuff, playful sibling bickering but they fuck about it, aemond is a tit, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 6.3k

a/n: I DID IT! i posted a fic again! happy to be back!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @tragicsiblings

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“Such a spoiled thing…,” Aemond mutters while his fingers work through Aegon’s silky hair, the strands freshly washed during his bath earlier in the day – something you and Aemond had assisted with as well, much to the displeasure of Maester Orwyle and the servants. A part of you understood the maester’s concerns, after all a slip or fall would be devastating for your brother this far along in his healing, yet…

Well, he listened to you and Aemond. He would sit in the bath without complaint for the two of you, would let you wash over his delicate skin and comb through his hair with little more than a scoff or eye roll. Not so for the others, to whom he grumbled and carried on, insisting he need not be babied.

“Hush, he deserves to be taken care of,” you chide your little brother playfully, chuckling as you lie against Aegon’s chest, savoring the sound of his heart beating steadily in your ear, “He’s lived through dragon fire, after all… That deserves a reward, no?”

“Listen to our sister, Aem,” your older brother chuckles, petting his hands over you in much the same way yours move over his waist and stomach – careful of the still-healing scars there, “What is it our grandsire says? Wisdom is from the children, some drivel like that?”

“Wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes, my love,” you correct him with a snigger, smirking when you peer up at him.

“That’s the one!”

“I’m younger than her, you dolt,” Aemond sighs, a bite to his words even as he teases, though Aegon pays it no mind – too busy spread between you and your brother like a lazy, happy house cat.

“Mm, then you should be smarter, no?”

“I…,” Aemond sighs before simply shaking his head with a soft sigh and teasing grumble, combing his fingers through his long hair in mock frustration.

This is how the three of you have spent as much time as you could since that fateful day at Rook’s Rest, when Aegon and Aemond both nearly lost their lives plummeting to the battlefield in a fiery tangle. Aemond had, by the grace of the Gods, escaped without too many injuries. However, your eldest brother had not been so lucky and had been caught in the fires of Meleys, leaving him with life threatening burns and broken limbs that had thankfully healed almost miraculously well over the last few weeks.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you snuggle against Aegon, saying yet another quick prayer to the Seven as thanks for keeping him safe and, relatively, in one piece. Unfortunately, Aemond had been made to step in and act as regent, which meant that the three of you couldn’t spend all your time together, much to your displeasure.

That is what had kept you all apart for most of the day – official duties that had carried on much too long, especially for your younger brother. By the time he had finished with Small Council business, it was well past supper and you and Aegon had already been tucked in bed together, enjoying the cool breeze blowing in from Blackwater Bay. As nonchalant as Aemond acts about the whole affair, his true feelings are betrayed time and time again when he stumbles when he all but rips his tunic and boots off, nearly in a frenzy, eager to join the two of you in bed.

“How does the Council fare, little brother? Have they fallen to pieces in my absence?”

“Mm,” Aemond hums, the corners of his lips just barely lifting into a smirk while he rubs over Aegon’s sore shoulders, making the elder sigh in contentment, “They’re being much too soft on that traitorous bitch queen for my liking… forcing us sit up here like a herd of lambs for slaughter.”

Aegon lets out a soft giggle, the sound of it reverberating in your ear while he tilts his head back to look up at his brother, “And what would you do, hm? Take Vhagar and sack Dragonstone singlehandedly?”

“She could do it,” the prince regent muses, leaning down and pressing soft kisses against your older brother’s head, his lilac eye sparkling at the thought of turning that blasted place into no more than a fiery heap of rubble. His lips linger against Aegon’s pale hair, muffling the sound of his soft chuckle, “Why not turn all of those spoiled bastards into smoldering piles of ash and be done with it?”

“You, dearest brother, are beginning to sound very much like our uncle,” you tease, peering up at Aemond with a smirk, “All violence and warfare.”

A soft laugh is pulled from your lips as your brother’s angular face twists into a disgusted scowl, “You think so lowly of me as to compare me to him, sweet sister?”

“Oh, don’t pretend you don’t enjoy it,�� you murmur knowingly, sharing a playful glance with Aegon, much to Aemond’s disapproval.

“You both know very well I hate that creepy old –”

“Then why is your cock hard against my back, brother?” Aegon quickly interjects, descending into raucous giggles. The sound of his laughter quickly gets to you and your lips crack into a wide smile before you can hide it, a snort of laughter following soon after.

Above you, Aemond sputters for a few seconds before finally letting out a pained groan, though his lips are turned up into a subtle smile.

“You want to fuck our uncle,” Aegon giggles, the near giddy sound of his laughter reverberating in your ear.

Your eldest brother’s laughter is cut short as Aemond behind him begins peppering kisses over his neck, sweeping his hair out of the way as the elder lets out a quiet gasp, the planes of his stomach tensing beneath your cheek.

“And what if it’s you I wish to fuck, Your Grace?” The name makes Aegon shudder while goosebumps bloom over his pale skin as he lets out a thick sigh, the sheets at his waist beginning to tent.

Aemond’s words cause heat to bloom between your own thighs and you smile up at him as he shifts behind your older brother, no doubt pressing his clothed length against his back, letting him feel it.

“Awful tease,” Aegon whines, the petulance in his voice making you chuckle. It’s then that he directs his darkening violet gaze to you, quirking a brow, “Don’t you act all innocent, as if you haven’t been torturing me for weeks, little minx.”

A smirk blooms on your lips as his largely uninjured arm raises to encircle your waist, holding you more tightly against him while you press a soft trail of kisses over his pale skin.

“I’m afraid I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean,” the words leave your mouth in a soft hum, warm against the patch of blond hair on his chest. A lie, of course. Maester Orwyle had taken great pains over the past few weeks to make it absolutely crystal clear that Aegon was in no state to be played with, that all of his body needed rest and healing.

The old man had said it in the hopes of you and Aemond keeping Aegon away from the Street of Silk, of course. There was no doubt in your mind that your older brother could talk any of the guards or servants into smuggling him into the city. Yet, little did they know he hadn’t been whoring in months, not since the three of you had finally given into your desires.

It had been well into the night when Aemond had stumbled into your chambers, dripping with rainwater and heaving soft sobs. You’d held him closely and listened as he had explained the awful mess that had happened with Rhaenyra’s youngest bastard, his voice trembling so hard you’d had to strain to understand at parts.

You’d ushered him into older brother’s chambers quickly afterwards, not knowing what else to do and naively praying he might be able to help – to do something, anything, as king. Being Aegon, of course, the event had devolved into drinking – just to soothe Aemond’s nerves, he had said.

The three of you woke together in the morning, naked and tangled up in His Grace’s soft sheets.

With the promise of war looming heavily on the horizon, you had scarcely separated from them since then. There was a possibility of losing them both and you wanted to savor them for as long as you could, for whatever time was left.

“Ah, you don’t, do you?” Aegon’s voice cuts through the visions swirling in your head, pulling you back to the present. His hand skims down over your back and hip until he can cup the curve of your ass, drawing a breathy laugh from you, “So you’ve just been wearing these gauzy, insufferable excuses for nightgowns for no good reason, then?”

“Perhaps I wear them to catch the eye of the guards as I make my way here?” Your eyes gleam with mischief when you peer up at him, knowing exactly how territorial he can be.

His hips rut up against the sheets, cock straining beneath the white linen of them and already leaving wet patches on the fabric while a deep groan rumbles from his chest. Behind him, Aemond chuckles while he continues to press kisses over Aegon’s pale skin, marking up each side of his neck.

“Teasing cunts, the both of you.”

“Tsk, there’s no need for that, you ungrateful cretin,” your little brother snaps, although there’s no real meanness in his tone – merely a strange, brotherly teasing that you fear you’ll never truly understand, “To think, we’ve been kind enough to take care of you all this time and this is how you behave.”

“Aemond’s right, my love,” your voice comes out as a soft coo, even as you peer at your eldest brother with a playful smirk, “We’ve been so kind to you… How many times do you think we swallowed your seed before you were well enough to fuck again?”

“W-Well, I–” Aegon stammers, flushing so hotly that even the pale column of his neck turns a slight pink shade.

“Mm, all so mummy wouldn’t see how you’d stain the sheets otherwise, isn’t that right, dearest sister?”

Your lips curl into an almost vicious smile at Aemond’s jab, relishing the way Aegon’s dark eyes widen at the mere mention of your mother. Poor thing, you remember how embarrassed he’d been the first time he’d been desperate enough to rut against the bed sheets until they were dirtied with his spend, left to his own devices late at night after you and Aemond had retired to your own chambers.

He’d sobbed against your chest that evening while he recounted the Maester mentioning it in the morning, pleased that all the king’s precious parts were still in working order, yet that did little to numb the sting of your mother’s stare – evidently disappointed that he’d debase himself in such a manner.

“Quite right, little brother,” you all but purr, rising to your knees before carefully maneuvering yourself over one of Aegon’s thick thighs, mindful still of any tender spots, “Isn’t there anything you’d like to say to us, Aeg?”

“I… T-Thank you,” he finally manages to huff out, violet eyes staring hungrily at where your warm heat presses against him – achingly hot through the thin fabric of the sheets.

“Good boy, Your Grace,” Aemond whispers against the shell of your brother’s ear, his gaze just as hungry as Aegon’s as they both look over you – the lacy, satin material of your nightgown doing precious little to disguise anything below it.

“He can be sweet when he wants to be,” you murmur, smiling at the way your eldest brother’s head tips back against Aemond’s pale chest when you lightly scratch your nails over his tummy, tracing a path down beneath the sheets. An amused little giggle spills from your lips when his hips rut against your hand the second you gently grab at his length, giving it a light squeeze, “Can’t you, lovely boy?”

Grunting, Aegon merely nods while soft whimpers spill from his lips at the feel of your hand on him, of Aemond’s lips against his neck.

“Please, fuck,” he groans, swallowing thickly and licking at his lips while he tries to buck up into your hand – his movements jerky and uncoordinated from being off of his feet for so long, “Seven Hells…”

Giggling at his grumbling, you tilt your head to the side as you look over him. Even injured and half-healed, he’s beautiful. In all the places where Aemond is lean and toned, Aegon is thicker, more stocky and soft; the juxtaposition between the two of them has always made your heart flutter.

“Tell us what you want.”

Aegon whines at Aemond’s firm command, but obeys nonetheless. The way his dark gaze immediately finds your own makes your lips curl into a proud smirk.

“Want you, please…,” he finally breathes and disentangles his hands from where they’d been clawing at the sheets to instead run them over your thighs, one moving more easily than the other – his injured arm still trembles.

“Mm, you’ll need to be more specific,” You can resist teasing, he just begs so prettily.

“Gods, your cunt,” the way he impatiently growls the words makes you snigger, “Insolent little wit– Agh!”

“You’ll be nice to our sister,” Aemond hisses, smirking as he gives a harsh pinch to Aegon’s nipples, “Or you can lie here and watch me enjoy her instead.”

A scowl blooms on your eldest brother’s face at the threat and he gives an almighty huff before thankfully settling; your little brother may have no qualms about denying him, but you prefer to indulge him, truly. Smiling wickedly, you fix Aegon with an almost innocent expression – brows drawn up just slightly, eyes widened… before sliding your gaze from his violet eyes and up to Aemond’s single lilac one.

“You know, baby brother,” you start, arching your back just enough to press your breasts out enticingly, putting on a show for them both, “If I’m to take His Majesty’s cock, I’ll need some help readying myself…”

Aemond’s snicker is such a sharp contrast to Aegon’s broken groan.

“Wouldn’t you like that?” Your younger brother rasps into your eldest’s ear, petting through his hair with a gentleness that one wouldn’t expect from such calloused hands, “Hm? To watch while I prepare our lovely girl for your lovely cock, dear brother?”

Aegon nearly wheezes at that, as if the mere thought of it has knocked all the wind from his lungs.

“Fuck, please,” he whines, nuzzling against Aemond’s touch like a cat, “Want it, please.”

“Anything to get my cock in her faster,” is the unspoken truth there, one he’d made the mistake of voicing before. Aemond had made sure that was a long night.

“Shh, sh, sh,” he soothes him now, gently petting over his chest while he kisses over the side of his face, “You’ll get to watch.”

Aegon lets out slightly pained grunts as Aemond works his way out from behind him to stand at the edge of the bed, taking the time to make sure he’s propped comfortably against the pillows before his touch finally leaves him. With a dark chuckle, your little brother swiftly climbs back up on the bed, nude save for the soft linen trousers hanging low on his hips.

“Now, I believe I have some business to attend to, don’t I, love?” He whispers against the shell of your ear while he takes his place behind you – kneeling and holding you against his chest. As always, a barely there sigh leaves his lips at the way the soft satin of your nightgown feels against his skin; it’s a sensation he’s grown to crave ever since you began ordering those special silks – the ones imported from Lys, the same ones Alicent insists on using for her sleepwear as well.

He’s never told a soul, but the feeling brings him comfort – brings back memories of being held and comforted, of before his mother became hardened to the world.

You can’t help the gasp that tumbles from your lips when he bites at your neck and roughly tilts your head to the side, long fingers threaded through the hair at the nape of your neck, “Please, little brother.”

“You know I’d never deny you, sweetling,” his breath is warm against the crook of your neck while his hands caress over your body, drawing soft whimpers and groans from the man lying on the bed below you. Aemond takes his time, never one to rush, and lets his touch linger over every part of you.

Starting at your shoulders, he runs his hands over your arms before skirting them back up and over your sides, making your nightgown ride further and further up your hips as he does. Just as he cups your breasts, you lean down against Aegon’s chest to let him feel the way Aemond’s long fingers work against you, mindful not to rest against him too firmly.

The heat from being trapped between their two bodies is nearly stifling but you’d never dare pull away.

“Gods, Aem,” you whine when he plucks at your nipples, rolling them between his long fingers while you pant against Aegon’s pale throat. Your older brother’s good arm comes up to circle possessively around your waist, keeping you pressed against him, long past caring if it sparks soreness within him.

“You feel so good,” Aegon whimpers against your hair, his voice little more than a needy growl while he ruts his hips up against your stomach. Chuckling, you nip over his collarbones just enough to leave small marks behind, painting him as yours.

“If I feel good now, just think of how good I’ll feel around you,” you murmur against his chest, relishing the way he keens – the way his cock twitches against you, doubtlessly leaking steadily against the thin bed sheet separating the two of you.

“Fucking dripping,” Aemond mutters behind you, letting out a satisfied chuckle against your spine while his deft fingers begin circling over your sensitive pearl, “Eager little thing, aren’t you?”

“Always for the two of you,” your voice shakes as you reply, words getting caught in your throat with each movement of your brother’s long fingers against your center.

“Did you hear that, brother?” Aemond says smugly, his low voice dripping with satisfaction, “Seems our dear sister is quite the little whore for us.”

“Mhm, mhm,” your eldest brother strenuously agrees, jerkily nodding his head while you let him hump against you, savoring the way the hard line of his cock presses against your belly, “O-Our whore, yes.”

“You’d better not let him spend,” Aemond growls, his good eye narrowing when he sees what you’re allowing to happen. He tugs at your hair hard enough to have you hissing and smirks at the sound.

“I won’t, I won’t,” you huff, rolling your eyes only to yelp when his large hand suddenly comes down on your ass. You can’t help the way you press back into it, the harsh sting settling over your skin like a warm blanket, “Gods…”

“Play nice,” he rasps, grinning at the way you cry out when he abruptly pushes two fingers inside your already-fluttering walls, “Or Aegon won’t be the only one left wanting.”

“Mhm, yes, little brother,” you rush to say, readily agreeing – knowing all too well from experience that if Aemond meant to deny you, that there would be no talking him out of it. Lucky for him, the prospect of that was enough to placate you. Not that you even have the lung capacity to sass him, not with the way his long fingers move within you.

Aegon whimpers in time with you each time the pads of your brother’s fingers brush against that sensitive spot within you, as if he can feel the pressure within you too. He lets you hold onto him and hardly even protests when Aemond angles your hips in such a way that the planes of your stomach don’t even rub over his neglected cock, the absolute prick.

“F-Fuck, oh, fuck,” the curses are all but knocked from you with ear harsh thrust of Aemond’s fingers, the chambers silent save for the steady crackle of the fire in the hearth and the wet squelching noises sounding from between your legs – which only serve to spur your little brother on further.

“So tight, Seven Hells,” he mutters, leaning over you and trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses up the curve of your spine. You can feel his lips curve up into a cocky grin when he presses his thumb against your bud, drawing a loud, gasping cry from your lips.

“Aem, Aemond, I–”

“Shh, shh,” he soothes, smiling at the way Aegon’s hands, both of them, even the shaky, still-healing one, thread into your hair and comb through it – a gesture that’s calmed you since the three of you were children, “Be good and take it.”

That’s a lot easier said than done, especially when the world seems to tilt on its axis when he manages to slip a third finger into your aching sex. The stretch of it only makes the fire threatening to consume you burn all the brighter and twin groans fill the room when your walls pulse greedily around him.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Aegon all but breathes, his voice raw and shaky and dripping with a soft kind of praise he only ever gives to you, “So good for us.”

“Mm, our big brother’s right, sweetling,” Aemond hums, rubbing his thumb in tighter and tighter circles over your pearl and focusing the attention of his fingers within you on that spot that he knows makes you see stars. The effect is instantaneous and after no more than a couple seconds, you’re all but sobbing as you go limp on top of Aegon, unable to so much as hold yourself up as pleasure courses through you.

Your younger brother smirks, you can’t see it but you can feel it, and groans low in his throat when your walls clench so tightly around his fingers that he can hardly move them at all. The only sounds coming from you are near pitiful squeaks in time with the movements of his hand.

“Gods, so close, aren’t you?” Aemond all but growls against the shell of your ear, just as Aegon pulls you forward into a searing kiss, “Show it to me.”

Powerless to do anything else, you let out a choked whimper against Aegon’s lips – practically sobbing into his mouth while his tongue licks against your own. Your high crests and crashes into you like the waves at Storm’s End, almost violent and bloodthirsty in the way it sends your pulse racing, in the way it nearly engulfs you.

All the while, your brothers hold you steady. Aegon keeps an arm slung around your back, anchoring you to him, while Aemond uses his free hand to hold you upright as he wrings every drop of pleasure he can conjure up from you – not daring to stop until your pleasured moans turn to tortured gasps.

Finally, Aemond pulls his fingers from you with a satisfied grunt, leaving you panting as you slip from atop Aegon, shifting to lie beside him instead, curled against his largely uninjured side. Your eyes have hardly fluttered open before Aemond’s moving, leaning over Aegon like a shadowcat, finally victorious in hunting down its prey.

“Taste,” he whispers, bringing his fingers, still glistening with the evidence of your orgasm, to your eldest brother’s lips. As usual, Aegon wastes no time and eagerly parts his hips and lets Aemond press them to his tongue. Your breath catches in your throat when his violet eyes roll back at the taste of you on your brother’s skin, a hungry, needy whine sounds from this throat while he takes the time to suck them clean.

Your younger brother’s eye sparkles as he watches, his cock tenting the dark fabric of his trousers and pressing against Aegon’s thigh.

“Aeg, don’t be greedy,” you finally pipe up, the air back in your lungs and a playful smirk on your lips, “Share with our little brother; he deserves it, no?”

Two sets of eyes land upon you, guided by the suggestive tone of your voice. Poor Aegon looks wide eyed and dazed, already half out of his mind and you haven’t even started on him. Aemond, on the other hand, looks downright predatory – dangerous in the low light.

With a breathy chuckle, he sets upon your eldest brother, capturing his lips in a heated, almost savage kiss. Aegon sobs into it, his hips lifting on their own accord beneath the sheets as Aemond nips at his lip and sucks at his tongue with a barely contained lust. The elder reaches up with his good hand and threads his fingers through the younger’s long, pearlescent hair just as a rough, sword-worn hand gets wrapped around his throat, holding him in place.

The sight of their frenzied affection makes your thighs clench, your core throbbing once more, uncaring that you’d found release only moments ago. Unable to resist, you lean in until your lips brush over the soft, pale skin of Aegon’s chest. You pepper it with kisses, making him whine and whimper into Aemond’s mouth. Shifting the bed sheets out of the way, you can’t help but bite at your lower lip at the sight of his cock – angry and flushed and leaking copiously, leaving a pool of it on his tummy.

“Mm, it’s cruel to let him suffer this way,” you say lowly, meeting Aemond’s eye when he finally pulls away from Aegon, lips curling into a smirk that matches your own, “I promised the poor thing my cunt, I think he’s earned it.”

“Please, please, f-fucking, please,” your eldest brother whimpers pitifully, hips bucking while you run your hand over his thigh as he looks between you and Aemond imploringly, violet eyes glassy.

“Shh, shh, I’ve got you,” you promise, pressing one last kiss against his chest before turning to Aemond, “Help me onto him.”

You’re moving before your brother can protest, can think of some other reason to tease. Ever since Aegon was injured, you’ve needed Aemond’s help to stay balanced the scant few times you’ve taken him. So much of his upper half was injured that you’re hardly able to put weight on one side of his chest, even now, which makes staying upright without assistance hardly worth the possible risk.

“Fine, fine, I suppose the little whelp’s earned a treat,” your brother sighs and slips off the bed, taking care to help you straddle Aegon’s hips once more while he stands at the bedside. You take a second to pull off your lacy nightgown, smirking at the groans of appreciation you get in return.

“Gah–fuck!” Aegon grunts the second your slick center presses against his aching length and presses his lips tightly together as his eyes squeeze shut, his fingers white-knuckled while he claws at the sheets, “S-Sweetling, please, please, I n-need you.”

“And you’ll have me,” your voice is sweet when you reply, soft and breathy. Your touches are the same, knowing that’s what he needs now. Balancing with one hand securely on Aemond’s shoulder, you watch as he leans down just enough to grab at your brother’s length and notch it at your entrance.

“O-Oh… fuck, f-fuck, Seven Hells,” the words sound as if they’re being punched from Aegon’s chest, like he can hardly get enough of a lungfull to speak while you slowly sink down onto him.

While he pants below you, nearly thrashing, you aren’t doing much better. Throwing your head back, you let your eyes flutter shut as a series of breathy moans spill past your lips. Silently, you’re thankful Aemond took the time to prepare you – sometimes they both get so wound up, preparation goes out the window and while you have come to love the nearly-painful ache of taking them without it, it’s always so much better like this.

“Gods!” You nearly screech when Aemond suddenly rubs at your pearl, making you jump slightly atop Aegon, who lets out an equally embarrassing noise at the way your walls suddenly contract around him.

Aemond, on the other hand, looks entirely too pleased with himself as he straightens again. He takes the time to brush a lock of hair from your face and cups your cheek in such a gentle way that you nearly ignore the mischievous glimmer in his eye, “Just getting you started, sweet sister. I expect a show.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip at the cadence of his low voice and you nearly draw blood when he tugs at the drawstring on his trousers and lowers them just enough to free his length, the sight of it pulling twin groans from you and your eldest brother.

Spurred on by the sight of it, of Aemond pleasuring himself to the vision of you atop Aegon, you begin rocking your hips. A satisfied sigh is tugged pulled from your lips at the feel of his cock moving within you – perfectly contoured to nestle against every sensitive spot within you as the head kisses your most inner depths.

“Fuck, Aegon,” you breathe, letting out little gasps every time your bud brushes against the patch of blond hairs at the base of his cock. Each movement of him inside you stokes at the fire within you that’s steadily roaring back to life, greedy even after your previous release.

“Don’t stop, don’t… Please, s-sister, I need–”

“I know, my love, I know,” you soothe him in a gentle tone, your free hand brushing gently over his chest and shoulder, trailing lightly enough over the column of his neck that he shivers, “I won’t stop.”

A shiver runs through you when he nods and stares up at you – gazes at you with those big, dark eyes like you’re some goddess, like you’re the Mother in flesh form, taking his cock again and again. As usual, his eyes are quickly drawn to your chest and you can’t help but chuckle at the hungry look painted so clearly on his pale features – pink lips parted as he pants and whimpers.

“Here, precious brother,” you whisper, carefully leaning forward, just enough to allow your breasts to sway in front of his face, peaked nipples just barely brushing over his lips, “Suck, go on.”

You need not encourage him further as he quickly leans up just the slightest bit, just enough to wrap his full lips around one of your sensitive buds and suckle as if his life depended on it. A low, carnal groan sounds from his throat and vibrates against your skin, the sound of it making the walls of your center squeeze at him greedily. The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter and judging from the desperate, harsh cants of Aegon's hips, you know neither of you will be lasting much longer.

For a long moment, the only sounds that can be heard in the quiet of your eldest brother’s chambers are harsh pants, the noise of skin on skin, and Aemond’s barely concealed growls.

“Gods, I– Fuck,” he pants, one hand stroking slowly over his generous length, pausing every so often to collect the slick steadily leaking from its flushed head, all the while his eye dances over you and Aegon, never settling in one place very long, “Love watching the two of you, s-so pretty…”

The little hitch in his voice makes your heart clench and sends a pleasured shiver up your spine – unlike Aegon, it’s hard to reduce Aemond to a stuttering mess so each time his words get caught in his throat is like a small badge of honor for you.

The slick noises of your brother’s hand moving over his cock soon draw Aegon’s attention and he pulls away from your breast with a shuddered gasp, his good hand white knuckled on your thigh. He looks up at you almost apologetically, a new hunger evident in his darkened gaze, before his eyes trail over to Aemond’s length.

“C’mon, then,” your little brother grunts, his lips pulled into a dirty smirk as he edges closer to the bedside, angling himself better for Aegon, “Good boy, go on.”

Licking his lips, Aegon leans forward just enough to get at Aemond’s cock; you and Aemond each let out soft moans when his mouth sucks at the flushed head. Aegon’s hips buck up into yours at your brother’s taste on his tongue and you know he’s close, teetering on the edge judging by how he shivers beneath you.

“Mm– fuck, yes,” Aemond grunts, rocking his hips little by little into your eldest brother’s waiting mouth, the sound makes your core clench once more and you can’t take it any longer. His low, breathy chuckle hardly meets your ears when you hastily trail a hand down your own stomach and start rubbing between your thighs – your fingers moving in tight, practiced circles over your pearl.

The feeling of your walls pulsating around his length again and again has Aegon crying out, the sound muffled around Aemond’s cock. You can feel his muscles tense beneath you while you spear yourself onto his length over and over, each movement causing the fire within you to burn brighter, to rage hotter.

You brace yourself for his release, clinging to Aemond’s shoulder with one hand while the other works furiously at your bud, and yet…

“You don’t finish until she does,” Aemond breathes, shoving his cock deep enough down Aegon’s throat that the only reply he can give is a garbled groan. His violet eyes are wide and glassy, silently pleading with Aemond even though he knows it’s useless.

“I-I’m close, I– Gods,” you pant, thighs burning while you all but thrash on top of your older brother, angling yourself in just the right way – causing the tip of his cock to rub against the most sensitive spot within you. Your eyes roll back in your head and stars dance in your vision and the feel of a gentle hand at your breast nearly makes you jump.

Even lost in his own pleasure, Aegon would never forget you. He moans helplessly around Aemond as he thumbs at your nipple, providing just enough sensation to send you tipping over the edge.

“Ah! Gods– Gods, f-fuck!” You cry out, your thighs trembling on either side of your brother's hips as pleasure overtakes you once more. Your lips part in a silent moan while your core all but milks Aegon’s high from him as well, the feel of his hot spend within you only adding to your pleasure.

“Mmph, mmph!” He whines around Aemond as you slowly come to a stop on top of him, overstimulation quickly getting to you both.

Aemond gasps at the sight before him, seeing the two of you in the throes of pleasure only adding to his own.

“Gonna… o-oh, fuck–” He grunts and before you can register what’s happening, he’s got an arm wrapped around your neck and is hauling you toward him. Your lips connect with his at a nearly bruising intensity and you can hear Aegon moaning with satisfaction when your brother finishes on his tongue, coating it with his spend.

Your lips move against his for a long moment while he trembles, hardly able to stay upright while he licks into your mouth – the kiss more teeth and tongues than anything else. Finally, he pulls away, nipping at your bottom lip as he does before he fixes you with a nearly arrogant smirk.

“Let our girl have a taste, big brother,” he drawls, pushing you back toward Aegon with a mischievous smirk.

“Mm, how generous of you,” you say with a playful roll of your eyes, shaking your head at Aemond before meeting Aegon in a heated kiss. Aemond’s familiar taste settles on your tongue while the man in question takes his place back behind Aegon, propping him on his chest and sighing at the familiar warm weight of his brother.

When Aegon is pulled away from you a moment later, you use the opportunity to shift back to his side, knowing he must be sore from having you atop him, even if he dared not show it. You trail kisses over his neck while Aemond occupies his mouth, greedily licking his own spend from his brother’s tongue.

“You were so good for us,” Aemond praises him, his voice soft and gentle in a way he only ever uses here – in the calm, candlelit privacy with each of you like this, “Did everything I said, just perfect.”

“Mhm, our perfect brother,” you purr into Aegon’s ear, relishing the way he shudders. He’s quiet after he spends, the only time you won’t hear a sarcastic remark or a dirty joke. Instead, he’s… subdued, pliable in your arms – breathing easy while his eyes flutter closed, relishing the attention you give him.

You chuckle softly at the easy, satiated smile on his lips before your eyes meet Aemond’s over your older brother’s mess of tangled silver hair – something that’ll need to be sorted in the morning.

“I love you,” you whisper against the side of Aegon’s head, pressing a soft kiss there, “Both of you.”

“Sap,” Aegon quips, making you giggle.

“I hate you,” you murmur playfully, giving his good shoulder a soft shove.

“Not nearly as much as I detest you.”

“Both of you are absolute ballaches,” Aemond finally sighs.

937 notes · View notes

liannafae · 29 days ago

Text

OH MY GOSHHHHHHHHHHHH

Oh my gosh, right in my heart 😭😭😭😭😭

Only You | Part Two

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (friend with benefits)

summary: time has passed, a new semester begins and the phantom memories of him come back to your mind on a specific day that makes you rethink your whole idea to let him back into your life.

words: 12.4k

previous part • my masterlist

okay before you read, i want to clarify one thing 😬 i know summer vacations were mentioned, but i came up with a last minute valentine's day idea so i will mention winter vacations now.

i know it doesn't make sense, it should make sense but i would have to change the whole first part, so this second part will be delayed. so please give me time to correct the first part, I will do it as soon as I can. i hope you don't mind and enjoy the chapter a lot 🙏🏽 thank you so much for reading!

AEMOND POV

The vibration of his phone makes him look away from his book.

The faint sound echoes in the library and with a serious look on his face, he immediately takes his fingers to turn off the device, not wanting to be disturbed now by whoever it is. Right now his projects have him so pressured and frustrated that he simply doesn't want any distractions.

But as he looks at the screen, he stops. And he reads the name of the person calling him: Cerelle.

She's not just anyone. So before he knows it, he quickly gets up from his seat and heads for the doors, picking up.

“Hey.”

He doesn't hear her immediate response, what he hears instead are whimpers and low sobs.

He pauses for a moment, his heart skipping a beat. He listens more carefully and she sniffles, letting out a small sigh only to cry again. Then he lets out a long breath and runs a hand through his hair, already imagining what's going on.

“Cerelle.”

He says her name in a low, soft tone, which makes her finally speak.

“I-I… I'm sorry,” she says in a shaky, low, vulnerable voice, ”I know you're probably busy and I didn't want to bother you. B-but…” her voice breaks.

She needs him.

He clenches his jaw tightly, annoyed, frustrated but mostly worried. He hates when she's like this. He hates seeing her and hearing her cry. He hates when he knows she's like this, again, because of his idiot brother.

“What happened?”

She sniffles and cries again, failing to form words at that moment. And then it's the signal for him, to go back inside the library to go get his things.

“Can I see you? P-please?”

“Don't worry. I'm on my way.”

She lets out a sigh. Maybe of exhaustion or relief. He doesn't know. He doesn't really care as he quickly heads off campus, car keys in hand.

“Thank you, Aemond.”

The drive to Cerelle's house feels longer than it really is. It's not the first time she's called him in that state, crying with a shaky, broken voice. And he also knows it won't be the last.

When he arrives at her house, she receives him at the entrance and immediately hugs him, clings to his strong body crying disconsolately in his arms and he holds her instantly.

He always does.

It doesn't even need to be said, he already knows, because he's heard that story many times before. It's nothing new. Yet he hates it.

He hates how Aegon makes her cry to the point of turning her into this, a heartbroken mess with his cruel tactless words and empathy-less behavior. And he finds it harder and harder not to lose control.

But he doesn't do it for her. Because she asks him to just hold her and not leave her alone.

They both go up to her room in silence, where there is no one in the corridors except for a few figures of the employees slipping by.

They both lie down on her bed and Cerelle clings to him again, hugging him tightly and Aemond pulls her tighter against him, wanting to make her feel comfortable and safe.

He strokes her hair, a repetitive and reassuring gesture as he lets time pass. Her tears slowly soak his shirt, but he doesn't care. Until she speaks, her voice barely a whisper.

“You really weren't busy when I called you?”

He rests his chin on her head and makes a slightly tighter grip of his arms around her body.

“No,” he lies, his tone soft, knowing he would give up any commitment to be there for her.

She lets out a small sigh and inhales the scent wafting from his clean clothes and also from his cologne, so masculine and comforting. His fingers continue to trace soft patterns in her hair, while his other hand draws comforting circles on her back.

“Why am I not enough?”

She asks him, raising her gaze to his, tears streaming down her cheeks and a look full of doubt and pain.

He lowers his gaze to her instantly upon hearing her words and frowns slightly, not understanding how she could think such a thing, when she is the most beautiful and perfect girl he has ever met.

He shakes his head slightly, running a hand down her cheek, wiping away her tears with his thumb.

“Don't say that. You're enough. He's the one who's not worth it.”

His hand slides down her back in an automatic gesture, slow and soothing. She sighs against his neck, relaxing slightly and Aemond feels his own breathing grow heavy.

“I don't know why I keep doing this,” she whispers, almost to herself.

Something inside Aemond moves and something inside him ignites.

Hope.

Hope that she is saying that, because she has finally opened her eyes. Because she has finally understood, that Aegon will never change for her.

That everything she is going to receive from him, will only be a moment of comfort to again make it clear to her, with his cruel words, that everything is casual.

Has she finally changed her mind this time?

Has she finally had enough of the situation this time?

Will she finally choose and love him this time?

Hope, illusion, longing, everything is mixed up in him. Happiness, even. And she only ignites that spark in him more, by embracing him with a firmer grip. As if she's afraid he'll leave. But they both know he's not capable of it.

“Stay with me, please. I don't want to be alone.”

The plea strikes his heart. Aemond closes his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, letting the anger, frustration and helplessness dissolve into the thick air of the room, to make way for all those positive feelings he's having.

“You know I won't leave,” he promises her.

He feels the tickle of her nose nuzzling the side of his neck and of her warm breath crashing against his skin in one of his most sensitive areas.

Aemond lets his nose sink a little deeper into her hair, inhaling of her sweet scent. And then, she tilts her head a little, leaving a soft kiss on his neck.

He tenses instantly. He can't help himself.

His breathing becomes ragged, as his hand still on her back, clinging a little tighter.

“Cerelle,” he murmurs her name.

She continues.

Another kiss, firmer this time, just above his collarbone. Then another, moving up his neck, leaving him breathless. His whole body reacts to the touch, to her closeness, to the way she clings to him desperately, needing him.

And Aemond knows that, they shouldn't. That he, more than anyone else, should be strong. To remember that, when the moment is over, she will come back to him like the other times before. To his brother.

But her words and his thoughts, clinging to him that maybe there will be a chance after this, make him not want to stop. And they remind him, he's never been strong when it comes to her.

Then, in a slow movement, he tilts his head, seeking her face.

She looks up at him, her eyes still reddened, with traces of tears on her cheeks. But this time, there is something else in her gaze. Something that destroys him and revives him at the same time.

Desire.

He lifts a hand and slides it up to her face, carefully, devotedly. His thumb brushes her lower lip, and he feels the tremor in her skin, in her breath. And then, she is the one who closes the distance and Aemond surrenders. Surrenders as he has always done with her.

He reciprocates her kiss. He kisses her.

Slow, deep, taking his time. And she settles her body even more against his, pressing herself against him, needing this, him. Her fingers sink into his hair, deepening the kiss, needing to feel him everywhere, needing him to touch her everywhere and make her his.

And that's what he does, hopeful at all times inside him.

However, he shouldn't have let his thoughts let him get carried away. Because this is nothing new either. Cerelle repeats the same words over and over again at his most vulnerable moment, igniting hope in him. And in the end, there is no change and the pattern repeats itself.

As always, he is there.

It is here, in his arms, where she always ends up. But he knows it's not where she wants to. Because he's her fucking comfort, the temporary refuge.

And worst of all, he allows it, always. But deep down, they both know that, her words are worthless and eventually, she will come back to him. To his brother.

So the only thing he can do, is to hold her as long as he can.

He stays with her all afternoon and has the idea that she will tell him to stay like this for the rest of the day, just the two of them. But then one of the Baratheon sisters calls her and the party at the Martell house looks like a good distraction.

Aemond says nothing as Cerelle tells him they can spend another night together, so he just says goodbye and goes to his apartment, not being in the mood to actually go to any party.

But just knowing that she will be there has him getting ready to be able to spend more time with her. Not directly but to be around her, to see her and take care of her from a distance.

And the hope is still inside him.

The hope that her words have been real. That their moment together this afternoon has meant something. That she has finally understood and finally sees only him.

So he heads to the party and when he arrives, Aegon is already there, as are his other childhood friends. He greets everyone, doesn't really talk much, just has a beer, lights a cigarette and begins to relax, when his gaze inevitably begins to seek her out.

And when he sees her, she is beautiful.

Her figure, her face, her hair, everything about her is the only thing that stands out for him in the whole place. And when he sees her, smiling, talking to people, laughing and dancing… he can't take his eyes off her.

She's the one interesting thing, the one thing that shines the brightest, the one girl he catches his eye and who he could look at all day long without getting tired of it. He just wants to hold her, hug her, kiss her and never let her go.

She is perfect. She has been since they've both been kids.

But then, someone else comes into the picture. Someone catches her eye. Someone draws her in. Someone makes her disconnect from all the people around her to focus only on that one person.

Someone who is not him. It is never him.

Because it is Aegon. It's always Aegon.

The same guy who has made it clear to her multiple times that he doesn't want anything serious with her. The guy who has always made his intentions clear from the beginning, that everything to him is just casual, even drawing the line at every turn and the one who is hard on her to make her understand that he doesn't want her, not really, making her cry.

And yet… Cerelle has hope.

It seems like the fight they had didn't even happen. She keeps allowing him into her life. She keeps allowing herself to get involved with him like that, to hold on to the hope that he's going to change for her.

And then, they both disappear.

Something that does not go unnoticed by Aemond, because it is nothing new. For him, nothing is. In fact, it's another constant pattern in his life. And he sees it every time.

The two of them fight, Cerelle looks for him in tears, he comforts her because he can't afford to reject her and because he couldn't do that to her. Then he hopes that she will finally leave Aegon behind but she comes back to him and they fight again, making him see how the cycle doesn't end and repeats itself over and over again.

However, he has not gotten used to it. A snort leaves his lips as he watches the two of them walk up the stairs together, as he shakes his head slightly and averts his gaze, unable to believe this is happening again.

He clenches his jaw and takes a long swig from his bottle, with a serious look full of bitterness.

The constant ringing and vibrating of his phone catches his attention, annoying him. Irritated, he takes it out of his pocket, looking at it briefly without focusing on the missed calls he has and all the messages he hasn't read.

He only focuses on the messages he just received from Cregan.

Dude, are you coming?

We're all here.

He frowns slightly, having no idea what he is talking about. He also decides not to respond, simply puts his phone away again and then focuses on the stairs.

He doesn't know exactly how long it takes him to get a little distracted, unable to relax any longer knowing that in one of the rooms is her with his stupid brother.

Kissing her and touching her, making her make those sweet sounds that come out of her mouth that he has so often had her make for him.

The mere thought of the two of them together, like that, when it should be just him, makes him rage and make him clench his bottle tightly.

Until finally, Aegon emerges from one of the rooms, buttoning his breeches and with his messy hair. He stumbles a bit and has a smirk on his face, returning to the party as if it were nothing.

It's obvious he doesn't care about her, because that's all he's interested in, a quick fuck, leaving her behind like she's worthless.

Then Aemond heads to the bedroom, upset and annoyed.

He enters and sees her fixing her hair in front of the mirror. But as soon as he crosses the door frame, she immediately sees him through the glass and freezes for a moment.

Aemond watches her seriously as he closes the door behind him and leans against the wood, not taking his intense gaze off her.

Then several minutes pass, long minutes in fact, where neither of them say anything. They just stare at each other.

She is too embarrassed to say anything.

And he's an idiot for thinking, again, that she had finally understood that Aegon will never change for her. So he speaks first when it's clear she won't.

“Are you serious? After today, after he made you cry, you just come crawling back to him?”

She lets out a long breath, tired. Because it's a conversation they've had before, countless times. They always have it.

“Aemond—

“Why do you keep doing this?”

He demands to know, stepping in and walking towards her.

“Why do you let him hurt you again after proving to you over and over again that this is all he wants you for?”

She turns to him, looking at him seriously and guiltily. Of course, not for sleeping with Aegon. No. But for what happened between the two of them this afternoon and for him finding out, again.

“You don't understand—

“What don't I understand?” he interrupts her instantly, his voice serious and full of reproach, hurt, ”Are you really so blind that you don't see the reality of things? Can't you see that he won't change for you?”

His words make her gaze harden. And soon, she too uses a tone of voice similar to his, matching his temper.

“You don't know that.”

“The whole fucking world knows that, Cerelle.”

“This is none of your business.”

He parts his lips, genuinely surprised and confused.

“What?”

Cerelle falters for a second at the sight of his expression. But only for a moment, to again place a serious and firm gaze, watching him with some remorse as well.

But it's more the fact that she wants to make everyone around her, and herself as well, believe that she has hope with Aegon.

“Whatever happens between your brother and me… it is none of your business, Aemond.”

He watches her silently for a moment, incredulous. He shakes his head slightly with a small bitter smile, unable to believe what she is doing.

“It's none of my business, you say?” he repeats and watches her completely serious, ”So it's none of my business when you come looking for me after he makes you cry and ends up treating you like shit?”

That one hurt.

He sees it in her look as she finally drops her tough-girl armor. And that should have made him feel better, by proving her right, but the reality is that it doesn't. He hates seeing her like that, with her crystal eyes and her gaze lowered, saying nothing more.

He lets out a long breath and walks towards her, closing the distance between them. He lifts his hands and holds her face, watching her with all the adoration in his gaze. He watches her with love, with weakness and tenderness.

But also hurt, because she still doesn't understand. Because she doesn't see him the same way he sees her.

“Listen to me…” he says low and soft, stroking her smooth cheek with his thumb, ”I wouldn't make you feel that way. Ever. And you know it.”

Cerelle watches him sadly and remorsefully, shaking her head slightly to raise her hands and place them on top of his.

“Aemond—

“No, please, listen to me,” he interrupts her immediately, tightening his grip on her face, ”Why don't you just forget about him and try it with me?”

He tells her, no, begs her.

“Just…forget about him. You know we can work together.”

“Aemond, we've already talked about this—

“He's not worth it. He doesn't deserve you. But I do. I'd give you everything, everything. The whole fucking world if you ask me to,” he insists.

“Aemond—

“Please, just—

“You're not him!” she exclaims loudly, stopping him.

For an instant, Aemond stands completely still, as if those words have pierced his chest. His breath hitches and his lips part slightly.

He blinks slowly, analyzing her, looking for something in her gaze, some doubt or some hint that she is not meaning it. But there isn't.

The words get stuck in her throat, as Cerelle watches him with remorse and sadness as she notices his broken expression that he so desperately tries to hide, breaking his heart over and over again.

Then she purses her lips and lowers her gaze, as if she hates what she is about to say. But still, she says it.

“I know it's hard to understand. I wonder the same thing too, I wonder why I can't love you too,” she says exasperated, frustrated, ”Why do I keep doing this to myself. Why I can't choose you. But it's just… I can't help it and you…” she shrugs, shaking her head with a sad look, ”You're not him.”

Aemond watches her silently and finally his gaze recomposes itself, a serious and bitter look, the one he shows everyone. He clenches his jaw and releases her, taking a step back.

Then he laughs. An empty, bitter laugh. He shakes his head as he averts his gaze from her and runs a hand over his face before looking at her again, his gaze hard.

“Then do me a favor…

He says after, leaving the rest of what he wants to say up in the air as she looks at him caught between guilt and resignation.

“Don't come looking for me again after he tells you to fuck off again,” he finally says.

Cerelle closes her eyes for a moment, as if his words were a certain blow. Aemond steps back again, watching her, seeing what she is thinking and what she will actually do, just as he does.

“But you will, won't you?” his tone is bitter, mocking, but deep down it's just pure pain, ”As if I don't know what this is like. Us,” he points between the two of them with his finger.

He shakes his head in disbelief, with a restrained fury that threatens to boil over at any moment.

“I don't know why I'm even saying this either. Because we both know you'll be cruel enough to call me back…” he says, his gaze darkening. “And I'll be an idiot enough to be there for you again.”

She opens her mouth, maybe to protest, to say something, but she doesn't. She has nothing to say, because she knows he's right. So she can only say his name, in supplication.

“Aemond—

He lets out a hollow laugh, another one, in disbelief. Stopping her. And then he exhales wearily, his posture no longer one of fight, but of surrender.

“It's always the same thing.”

Cerelle's eyes fill with tears, but she doesn't let them fall. She just watches him, with a pain that is not enough for him.

“I'm sorry.”

He shakes his head, with a crooked smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

“No, you're not. You're not sorry.”

He doesn't let her say anything else. He doesn't either, because he's already tired and has nothing more to say.

So he simply turns around and walks out of the room slamming the door, annoyed, angry and clenching his jaw helplessly. But the truth is… he can't be mad at her.

Even he doesn't believe everything he has said.

Because he knows, just like Cerelle, that if she calls him, he'll answer and go to her to comfort her the second. Always.

And that's what makes him feel most upset of all. That he can't turn her away. He can't ignore her. He can't detach himself from her because he loves her, since childhood. But she's never going to love him back, because of his brother.

After that, maybe he should have gone to his apartment to get his shitty day over with. Or maybe he should have gone to clear his head somewhere else. He knows he should have gone somewhere else, except the pub.

You still remember it all too well.

You remember his touch, the feel of burning skin, his kisses, his breathing and the hypnotic way he held you under his spell.

So many moments in his bed, in his kitchen, in his living room, in his bathroom and in your dorm room. Moments you don't think you can leave behind so easily, when all you want is to live them again. To experience that feeling again, even if it was just between the two of you.

But you also remember that night, at that party, when you found out about her.

A party at the fraternity of Aegon Targaryen, Aemond's older brother, which was at it's peak. The crowd moved to the rhythm of the music, which echoed off the walls, with the air charged with the smell of alcohol, perfume, cigarettes and weed.

Outside, in the huge garden, students gathered around the illuminated swimming pool, while inside the huge house the atmosphere was more tense and noisy.

You were sitting at the kitchen counter, with a glass of water between your fingers, feeling the sweat on your skin after having danced with Alysanne and Sara for more than an hour.

You caught your breath and rested your feet a bit, while they continued dancing through the crowd. You let out a long breath, looking around briefly.

Aemond was also there, with Cregan and Jason. The three of them had arrived at the party together. But, as it is always in public, he kept his distance from you.

You were used to it.

Or at least that's what you always told yourself in every situation like that when you realized it wouldn't be any different.

You bit the inside of your cheek and watched him from a distance. He was there, calm and relaxed smoking a cigarette with the guys. Like you, he was just watching the people around him as they talked to each other.

Nothing was new.

You looked away to grab your phone to check the time when a voice in your direction caught your attention.

“Y/N! How good it's to see you!”

Aegon, with a half-empty bottle in his hand and a cocked smile on his lips, told you that he's already drunk, but at least he could still hold his own.

“You want one? I think you need one.”

He told you as he stood next to you. He held something out to you and you looked at it, it being a brownie.

“Really?” you looked at it between amused and expectant.

“Come on! It's a party!”

“No thanks. I don't want to eat that,” you told him pushing it away with your hand.

“It's just a chocolate brownie,” he told you innocently.

”Weed more like it.”

He tried to convince you, when suddenly, his gaze focused on something in the crowd and his smile came hooked again.

“Oh look! My dear childhood friends.”

You watched him slightly confused and amused, watching as he walked towards a group of people quickly, stumbling.

And simply because you had nothing better to do, you watched to whom he was going. And the recognition was almost instantaneous.

Alysanne told you about how Aemond or his family, rather, have friendships with people who are just as important as they are in the world of business management.

So you recognize the children of those important people, sons and daughters of the elite, the Baratheon's, Tyrell's and Lannister's. As Aegon said, his childhood friends.

You didn't think much of it, at first. Clearly he invited them to his party and they attended. Completely normal. However, someone caught your attention.

You watched as a girl from that group, tall, impeccably dressed, beautiful, with her bright red hair falling in perfect waves down her back and wearing a dress that fit her figure perfectly, after greeting Aegon, walked over to Aemond.

Normally you wouldn't have minded, she is his childhood friend.

But… you see how she approached him so naturally, with that confidence that only someone like her can have. She kissed him gently on the cheek and then said something to him, leaning slightly towards him and placing her hand lightly around his arm.

And Aemond did not pull away.

There was no look of discomfort, no expression of indifference or seriousness. In fact, he looked relaxed, even amused and attentive to the conversation. There was a half-smile on his lips, barely visible and one he rarely let show.

You felt a flip in your chest, something thick and warm that then settled in your stomach like a stone.

You had no right to feel this way. You knew perfectly well. He doesn't belong to you. He has never promised you anything. But still, that image turned your stomach in a way you couldn't control.

Something about that interaction felt different to you. Like there was a story there, something you didn't know.

Then Alysanne came to your rescue from that moment, taking you with them again to dance. You thought about staying where you were, but you needed a distraction. So again you joined the impromptu dance floor.

However, you couldn't help but look in their direction again, wanting to see everything. But it was impossible to see it because of the partitions of the house.

And when you had visibility again, Aemond was gone.

You searched the crowd for the next few long minutes but nothing. It was as if he had vanished. He wasn't with Cregan and Jason. Nor with anyone you knew. So you stood there, expecting to see him at any moment, but nothing.

Then, you saw Aegon, drunk and very happy, enjoying the party. And without thinking, you went to him, because he is the only one you can ask without him suspecting anything. You didn't want to be obvious with your friends. And surely tomorrow he would forget all about it.

“Hey, Aegon,” you grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him towards you.

“Hey, Y/N! What's up?”

“Hum… have you seen Aemond?”

“Aemond?” he repeated, dragging out his words, “Mmm… no. I don't think so.”

You were about to speak when he turns to a girl walking by, with that characteristic red hair.

“Hey T-Tyshara,” he grabbed her arm, stopping her, “Hey, tell me something…” he said, clearly drunk as that girl gave him an annoyed look as he slipped an arm around her shoulders, “Have you seen my little brother, hm?”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Who? Aemond?”

”Yeah, that one.”

She sighed, releasing from his grip.

“I think I saw him with my sister a while ago,” she said nonchalantly, ”I don't know. They left, I think.”

“What sister? Cerelle?”

“I don't have another one, you idiot.”

The girl left, giving him a look of displeasure, while you felt something inside you stop for a second. And then, Aegon let out a laugh, leaning against the wall so he wouldn't lose his balance.

“Oh, my little brother…” he said amused, ”He never gives up.”

You felt a sting in your chest and watched him completely attentively and slightly confused.

“What do you mean?” you asked him, trying to sound nonchalant.

He watched you with a lazy smile.

“Oh come on. Don't tell me you didn't know. It's so fucking obvious.”

“What's obvious?”

He laughed again, shaking his head.

“Well… Cerelle's not ugly, you know? She's beautiful. But she's not my type. She's too perfect, always wanting to be the perfect girl. And she always wants to be close to me, which annoys me.”

You frowned, not believing for a second that he was talking about that girl… Cerelle.

“I've turned her down, many times. Though, of course, we've had our moments,” he said with a smile and meaningful look, ”But she wants more. And I… I don't like that,“ he let out a dramatic sigh, ”Oh but Aemond…” he smiled amused, ”Aemond adores her. He's been in love with her forever. And she… let's just say she accepts him, but she's never wanted him in the same way.”

Suddenly, everything around you kept moving. People laughing, drinking, dancing, having a good time. But you, you were disoriented. You watched Aegon intently, only listening to the echo of his words.

And Aegon kept talking, oblivious to the rigidity of your expression and your tense posture.

“He's always there, following her around like an idiot. And she, she just likes his attention,” he said nonchalantly, ”Anyway, too bad. I can't do anything for him.”

You didn't react. You didn't say anything. You just nodded and Aegon walked away, stumbling away, while you stood alone in a corner of the party.

In that moment you knew where Aemond was and with whom. In that moment you understood the changes in his attitude, why it didn't feel anything like before.

And even though logic told you that you should end everything, whatever you had with him and that you should stop it before you hurt yourself more… you didn't do it.

On the way back to your dorm, the pain was there, weighing on your chest. And after that night, things didn't change and you understood better.

Every time there was a party hosted by Aegon, the pattern repeated itself. Cerelle would appear and at some point in the night, Aemond would disappear and then so would she.

But there were also times when, in the middle of those same parties, when Aemond was distant and serious, and she would suddenly appear, something in his expression would change. His mood would improve. Her shoulders would relax, her gaze would soften just perceptibly.

You stayed in your corner, danced with the girls, laughed with the boys, kept your smile on your face and let the night go by without showing what you felt.

You kept telling yourself that you shouldn't care and that you can't claim him because he and you are nothing.

You are not special. You are not different. You are just someone who is there, when he needs you. When no one else saw him, when he could let his guard down without fear of being judged.

And yet, you didn't leave him. You didn't want to. You couldn't. Because deep down, a part of you still hoped that, someday, he would see you as something more.

But that day, it never came.

Until he asked you to go to Dragonstone with him.

It had been a long week. With exams and final projects due, neither of you had time to rest and see each other. It was a stressful few days, with a lot of worries and responsibilities. Until finally the two of you made some space and he visited you in your dorm room.

You had missed him. So much.

You had only been able to talk by text. Rarely did he or you call each other. And finally the two of you managed to release at least a little stress before returning to the stressful reality, which wasn't over yet.

So you enjoyed the moment of holding him, of his arms around your body pulling you close to him, giving you that peculiar and divine warmth that only he can give you.

Both of you are exhausted. And for now, you can only be like this, in each other's grip, in your bed. His fingers gently and slowly caress the skin of your shoulder, while you have your face buried between his neck and chest, inhaling his delicious scent that makes you feel protected and comfortable.

Just a few more weeks and we are finally done with this semester.

You had thought then, so you could go back to the routine of before, of you in his arms. Unless he… had plans for that winter break.

You opened your eyes and stared at a mole on his shoulder specifically, thinking about it. You didn't know if you should bring up that topic, but the doubt lingered in your mind and so did the curiosity. So you decided to ask him about it.

“Will you be leaving for the winter vacations?”

You asked softly, with your nose touching his jaw, looking at a specific spot in your room.

He didn't answer for a moment, while still continuing to make those invisible lines on your skin with his long, pale fingers.

“Hm… probably,” he said in a low, husky voice against your head.

His response should not have disappointed you. You know he deserves it more than anyone else. He kills himself to get the best grades and to maintain his excellent grade point average that he should enjoy a nice, relaxing vacation.

Yet it did. Because that meant you would only have him with you those last few weeks of the semester.

“What about you?” he asked you later, ”Do you have plans?”

“Mmm… no. Not really,” you confessed.

That must have surprised him, because all his friends would be leaving King's Landing. The only thing they had been talking about, was the winter vacations.

“Why?” he asked you genuinely curious.

“Maybe I'll visit my mom and siblings for Christmas and New Year's,” you said vaguely, not really having it prepared, “And I'll come back to spend the rest of the vacations here. But I don't know,” you ran your hands down his bare back, pulling your body closer towards him if possible, ”Where will you go?”

He let out a long breath, at the same time he brought one of his hands to your cheek and lifted your gaze to him, as he lowered his to you.

“Dragonstone.”

Your eyes met his, as his thumb stroked your cheek slowly and gently.

That electricity you felt when you were with him, in that moment manifested. Neither of you spoke anymore and his lips brushed yours, as he continued his caresses and watched you as if he wanted to memorize every faction of your face in his memory.

Your breaths mingled and you loved the way your bodies seemed to fit together so perfectly.

Then, he kissed you. Slowly and precisely.

You reciprocated the kiss, as his mouth moved over yours firmly, unhurriedly. One of his hands went down to your bare lower back, caressing your skin and sending shivers down your spine, as you leaned closer to him.

You sighed against his mouth and wrapped your fingers around the base of his nape, drawing him closer to you, feeling that slight shiver run down his spine each time he exhaled against your skin.

Your lips barely parted for seconds before they met again, hungry, insatiable.

Aemond's lips slid to your jaw, then down your neck, marking a path with his warm, electrifying breath.

“Come with me.”

He said to you suddenly in a low voice, almost like a whisper against your skin, but clear enough for you to hear and open your eyes.

“What?” you said, thinking maybe you had misheard.

“Come with me.”

He repeated, never failing to mark your skin and never failing to make you sigh with every touch.

“Where to?”

You asked, your voice barely audible between your soft gasps. And Aemond didn't answer right away. Instead, he kissed you again, more intensely this time, before answering you.

“To Dragonstone.”

The kiss stopped for an instant. Not because you wanted to break away, but because his words left you momentarily breathless.

Dragonstone.

It wasn't just a vacation destination. It was his home. The island where he grew up, the place he always returned to when he wanted to get away from it all. And now he was asking you to go with him.

You couldn't move. You just watched him slightly surprised, definitely not expecting that. Instead, you were expecting him to take it back or tell you he didn't mean it.

But he just looked at you with the same intensity as always, with that indecipherable gleam in his blue eye. His hand went up to your cheek, outlining your jaw with his thumb, waiting for a response.

But instead of speaking, you kissed him again, smiling big against his lips. You felt happy, excited and illusioned because you had hope.

That must have meant something. Asking you to go with him, to that ancient and wonderful place, his home, must have meant something.

Even knowing about Cerelle, you had hope.

You have distanced yourself from your group of friends.

With the new college semester, things have changed a bit in your life.

Stricter teachers, more important and difficult subjects, more responsibilities and more pressures leading up to your graduation next year.

You still talk to them, in fact the group chat is more active than ever and you've seen them individually or in duos between classes to say hello and catch up a bit.

They still hang out in the gardens, as usual, even though most of them don't share many classes together anymore. You talk and see more with Sara and Alysanne, that's not changing at all.

The difference is that you don't share any classes with anyone and the times are more reduced between classes, except for some free hours in which you don't coincide with someone of them or the girls.

And when you say they… you don't include him.

He didn't come back to look for you since that day, when you came back to the city and he was waiting for you in front of your door. After you came back to make it clear to him that you don't want to have anything more to do with him, until now your wish has remained.

You have seen him a few times since then, from afar. Walking through the campus, you suddenly spot that distinctive silver hair in the distance blending in with the crowd.

But you avert your gaze instantly, not wanting to look any more than necessary even though it's probably Aegon. You just didn't want to know.

And you've only seen it once directly, days after the new semester started.

You were still having trouble finding your new classrooms. The directions were a bit confusing having not frequented other buildings you were used to.

It was raining. You remember it well.

And you were rushing up the stairs, already ten minutes late. When suddenly, as you turned to continue up the stairs, you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw legs in front of you in your line of sight.

You raised your gaze to apologize, as the two of you would have collided because of your speed. But as soon as your eyes took a direct look at that distinctive, bright blue staring back at you, you froze.

It was him.

And he seemed just as surprised to see you.

However, he didn't move either. Nor did he say anything. He just looked at you.

It was like going back to that day, in your residence. The rain was still pounding on the windows of the building and the hallway was almost empty. Only the distant echoes of footsteps and voices filtered between you, but at that moment everything disappeared.

You swallowed hard, unable to move, with everything that happened hitting you like a wave of memories. Your chest began to rise and fall with deep breaths.

And he, he was looking at you in an intense, burning way.

It seemed as if his mind was working at full speed, as if he was choosing what words to say carefully. As if he knew that anything he said could break what little was left between you.

And then, that's when you saw it.

It wasn't anger. It wasn't frustration. It wasn't resignation. It was a silent, desperate plea.

Talk to me.

Tell me you really don't want me anymore.

Tell me you hate me.

Tell me something.

Anything.

But you couldn't.

A lump tightened your throat, the pressure of his gaze was too much. Your heart pounded and you didn't know what to do, with every memory invading without stopping your whole mind.

However, you didn't let your thoughts and memories block you any more than necessary.

Even though he was looking at you like that, you didn't let it affect you anymore and quickly walked around him, putting enough distance between the two of you to avoid even a brush and continued on your way, leaving him behind.

That was the last time you saw him.

But that encounter, only made you couldn't stop thinking about him for the next few days.

Fortunately you haven't run into him again. And you hope it never happens. Or at least not soon. You know it's best to just move on, let go of what you both once had and stick with as much of the good as the bad.

However, he has his moments.

Vague, unexpected moments when he comes back into your mind and you remember it all. Memories of what you both went through together. Though you always don't think too much about it.

It's not something you decide to stay with all day. Then you go back to your projects, your mind gets busy and you forget about it.

One day, though, you're suddenly thinking and remembering everything about him. Too much.

It's not something you think about in a few minutes or a few hours. No. That stays with you all day long. And you can't help it. The nostalgia, the moments, the memories, it all comes back to you.

You wonder at all the things that could have been different. Of what would have happened. Questions and illusions that keep you awake even at night.

And the next day, the memory of all that was and all that could have been, is present on Valentine's fucking day.

Great.

You think as you look around you with a serious stare at all those girls with bouquets of flowers in their hands, stuffed animals, balloons and details walking around the campus.

You didn't even remember and just today your mind reminds you of him too.

Fortunately you only have three classes today, two hours each. Honestly it could be worse, since your other days, except today on Fridays, start from nine in the morning and end until seven.

You think positively that your hours will pass quickly. You just have to pay close attention, keep your mind busy and the hours will fly by.

But of course, this day is not in your favor. The hours go by incredibly long.

Even some of your classmates enter the classrooms with beautiful bouquets of flowers and details. You also see boys with flowers in their hands, among other details that make you roll your eyes and groan internally.

Everything is so beautiful, so pretty and so ideal that you want to be one of those girls. You also want to be given a bouquet of roses.

But no. Today you are a spectator.

And when your classes are finally over, you feel a little pathetic walking across campus back to your dorm with your hands empty compared to the many girls around you carrying their gifts.

So you pick up your pace, wanting to get to your room as soon as possible not wanting to see any more of this.

You greet some girls you meet at the entrance to your dorm, both holding a rose in their hands and head towards the stairs, when a voice stops you.

“Y/L/N!”

You turn around and notice Miranda, the woman who works as the receptionist at this residence. You frown slightly and head towards her desk, as you rarely speak to her.

“Yes?”

“They left something for you,” she lets you know.

The frown on your forehead furrows further, confused.

“For me?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I am. It says your name.”

You shake your head slightly, since you don't get anything. And if you do, whether it's from your mom, which has been very few times, she lets you know, always.

So you wait expectantly and she finally lets you see it, lifting it slightly in the air to place it on the table in front of you.

Your breath catches the instant you see it.

With your lips parted, completely surprised and in disbelief, she hands you a beautiful bouquet of flowers. But not just any flowers. They are hydrangeas, your favorite.

White and purple, your favorite color, all together they make a beautiful flower bouquet for you.

You gently run your fingertips over their petals, admiring it and not being able to believe that this is for you. Even for a moment you think it might be a mistake, even though they are precisely your favorite flowers and colors.

But Miranda is right. There is a small card tied to the bouquet that says your name.

But who gave this to you?

“Thank you.”

You say to Miranda, taking it in your hands and arms once you come out of your surprise.

And you quickly try to recompose your reaction, as you didn't want to look like a girl who has never received flowers in her life or who isn't used to such details on days like this.

But too late, you've already made the impression.

You go up to your dorm room and leave the bouquet on your desk. Having no idea who sent this to you. But then, a person comes to your mind.

Is it possible…?

No. Absolutely not.

The idea is ridiculous. It can't be. You only think about him because you haven't stopped remembering him for two whole days now and it just can't be.

And now seeing the little card, you don't want to open it.

What will you feel? Happiness or disappointment if it's not him? You don't know. And you don't want to find out.

But as you look at the card, curiosity and uneasiness only take over you more and more. You stare at it as if you could burn it with your gaze, nervous and unsure.

And once your patience is worn out, you finally take it and open it, simply reading it without further ado, wanting to know who it was.

When then, your breath catches again and your heart skips a huge beat.

I know it's too late now, but this was what I was supposed to give you on your birthday. I regret that day and the day you came back. I didn't express myself the right way and I didn't mean everything I said to you. I still think about you, all the time. Only you.

Your throat closes.

You read the words over and over again, surprised, wanting to make sure you're getting the message right, not getting it wrong.

But it's as clear as day. It's him. It's definitely him.

Your fingers squeeze the note, feeling the tremor in your hands and beginning to feel your emotions begin to invade you.

Your mind flashes back to that day, your birthday. To his voice, to his gaze. To the way every word he said to you tore you up inside. To the way you ended it all. And to the way he tried to get close to you afterwards. But now… this.

You don't know what's worse.

You return your gaze to your flowers, so beautiful and so perfect, with a sad look.

You once told him that these flowers are your favorite. Just once. And you thought he wasn't even paying attention to you. But this is confirmation that he did, he remembered.

I still think about you. All the time.

You close your eyes and drop heavily onto your bed, bringing a hand to your forehead and letting out a long breath, then stare at a blank spot on your ceiling, doing nothing.

He is still thinking about you. And worst of all, you haven't stopped thinking about him either.

But now, what should you do?

You sit up slowly, feeling the stiffness in your muscles, the restlessness in your chest. You look at the flowers again, their delicate white and purple petals spreading before you.

He still thinks of you.

Your mind repeats, but… what does that really mean?

He says he's sorry, he regrets, but is it enough?

Words and flowers can erase everything that happened? You should unblock him and thank him for the gesture? You should talk to him? But what is going to happen with Cerelle? He is choosing you but he is still going to keep her?

You don't know anything. And you don't know if you want to know.

Part of you wants to hold on to this, wants to believe that there's something still between you, something worth saving. But the other part, the part that still remembers the pain, forces you to stand firm.

You sigh heavily, running a hand through your hair as your gaze returns to his note.

Maybe you should ignore it. You should pretend you never received it.

But the problem is, now that you've read it, now that you know Aemond is still there, in the distance, thinking of you… you can't pretend you don't care.

But you don't know what to do either.

Two weeks have passed.

Two weeks since you received the hydrangeas and that note that has kept you awake at night.

Two weeks in which your life followed the same course. Your classes, your projects, even outings with your friends have gone on as normal.

Two weeks in which you haven't made a decision. Or actually, you haven't been able to.

And every time you find yourself alone, your mind goes back to the same old question: what should you do?

But you never have the answer.

You know it's not an easy decision. And you don't want to take it lightly because you don't want to make the wrong one.

So you've put it off, telling yourself you need time. But that time has only led you to be thinking about him almost all the time. His memory is not just an echo in your mind, but something constant.

And oddly enough, you started seeing him more frequently on campus. From afar, never too close, whether it was in the hallways, in the gardens, common areas or leaving one building while you were entering another.

His silver hair always gave him away. But he didn't see you. That's the difference. He doesn't notice you. And you feel like the universe is mocking you by constantly putting him in your path.

You wondered if it was a coincidence. You wondered if you should do something about it all. And every time the doubt appeared, you ignored it, convincing yourself that the right thing to do was to move on so you could think better of it.

But in the end, you didn't make a decision.

And it seemed like you finally had, when you found yourself with your gaze fixed on the screen of your phone, staring at the 'unlock' button on Aemond's contact.

You thought about doing it, sending him a message or even calling him, giving him a chance to talk. But after staring at the screen for who knows how long, completely unsure and biting the inside of your cheek too hard, you'd get frustrated and put the device aside, really not wanting to make the wrong decision.

He hasn't looked you up since Valentine's Day either. He must have done it, right?

Who knows, maybe to try again to talk to you. But he didn't, because he knew you would probably reject him and not give him the chance.

You let out a long breath, feeling like this is all torture. You haven't been fully focused in your classes, you've fallen behind on some projects, you haven't prepared enough for your exams and… you don't know what the fuck to do.

Until finally, one day, sick of it all, you made a decision.

The decision wasn't sudden, but the moment you realized you couldn't avoid it anymore was.

You know it can end badly or it can end well. You have no idea which it will. But you will when you finally do something about it.

So you text Cregan, asking him what time Aemond usually goes to the library and he tells you without a problem. The library is the place where you know you're bound to find him, so once your classes are over around the time he's supposed to be there, you head over to him.

Maybe you should have texted or called him before?

Your nervous mind tells you as you walk, without stopping. You watch curiously as it is raining again, having no idea why it is always raining when something related to him is happening.

But you don't care.

You hold your coat against your body, protecting yourself from the cold, but nothing could protect you from the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

Every step brought you closer to him, and with every meter you walked, the certainty of what you were about to do became more real. You're so nervous. You don't even know exactly what you're going to say to him. It's been so long since you last spoke to him. And yet, he still has this effect on you.

When the entrance to the huge library is finally only a few meters away from you, you feel like your heart is definitely going to burst out of your chest. But before you regret it, you push yourself to walk through those doors, knowing it's now or never.

You feel the immediate change in the atmosphere. The sound of the rain becomes a distant murmur, replaced by the faint rustle of pages and the occasional low murmur of students sitting at tables or between shelves.

You move among them, hands tucked inside your coat pockets to keep them from noticing that you're shaking. You slowly walk around the place, looking in every action, trying to find that silver hair.

Until you see him.

Obviously it's not hard at all. And again, you freeze, just watching him from a distance.

You can turn on your heels and walk away, pretend you've never been here and forget it, leave things as they are. He wouldn't even notice, because he hasn't noticed your presence and doesn't feel your gaze on him.

So that's the easiest thing to do. Avoid hurting yourself, protect yourself, in case this is a very bad idea.

But the truth is, you can't keep fooling yourself.

You really want to do this.

You want to clear the air once and for all. You can choose to continue if it's good for you and what you really want. But if not… then finally end it all as it should be.

You take a deep breath, feeling the air fill your lungs along with courage. You press your lips together, still having your gaze fixed on him. And then, cautiously, you take the first step, then another, another, and another. Until finally you are only a few feet away from him.

He hasn't noticed you yet. But you have no doubt he will soon. And you don't want it to be awkward, so you have to talk to him, call out to him. Nervous, your steps are a little slower, but sure, towards him.

You open your mouth, you're about to say his name when suddenly:

“Aemond.”

But you don't say it.

Someone else says it behind you.

You watch beside you and immediately that red hair appears in your line of sight, walking quickly towards him and catching his attention, as well as yours.

You stand still, watching as she walks towards him, with every plan you had in mind now simply forgotten. And then, he sees you.

He parts his lips, slightly surprised, you don't know if it's because of you or her, but his eye is fixed on you, watching as you had every intention of speaking to him, of heading towards him.

And then, just as surprised, he watches Cerelle too, right in front of you. Not understanding anything. But you do.

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew it, but you convinced yourself you could handle it. But now, with her in the middle, as she has always been, you feel your heart sink in your chest and you suddenly feel very small.

Discomfort grows in your chest and suddenly your hands can't stop shaking, feeling clumsy and heavy.

And you don't want to stay here, watching as he's going to choose her, again.

You bite the inside of your cheek and try to control your overflowing emotions, staring at the ground, that you don't even realize he's looking at you.

And when you give him one last glance, you see his attentive expression, surprised and with something else. Something you can't figure out because your mind is too busy telling you to leave. And that's what you do.

You spin on your heels as quickly as your determination crumbles and walk away without looking back.

You walk through the library doors and the cold rain air hits your face, but you don't stop. You just want to go to your room, to forget all of this, to finally put it behind you.

Your heart pounds as you walk at a fast pace, hugging yourself in an attempt to find some solace amidst the whirlwind of emotions that consumes you. The skin on your arms bristles from the cold breeze that sneaks through your clothes.

And although it's not raining hard, the air is permeated with moisture.

Your gaze is kept low, avoiding anyone who passes you, concentrating only on getting to your residence. But as you move forward, you realize something: you can't leave on foot.

Not like this. Not when the rain is too heavy and there's no sign that it will pass quickly. And you don't even have an umbrella with you.

You sigh, closing your eyes for a moment. Maybe you could call an Uber or wait for it to calm down a bit. You don't have much choice, but you also don't have the energy to think of a better solution.

Then, just as you're about to turn in the direction of one of the coffee shops or with another of the libraries on campus in mind to wait and at the same time make progress on projects, a firm, familiar voice stops you.

“Wait!”

Your body instantly freezes, as if every fiber of your being instantly recognizes the soft, confident tone of his voice. The sound echoes through the air, dissipating any other noise around you.

You don't need to turn around to know who it is. You know.

His footsteps are getting closer and closer, you can hear it perfectly. And when you turn around, he's right in front of you.

Confused, you see how his gaze is fixed on you, with his spotless dark jacket, his backpack hanging from his shoulder and his relaxed but firm posture. He is actually standing in front of you. And your chest tightens with a mixture confusion and something else, something you can't quite name.

You don't understand why he's here, why he's not with her, why he's looking for you. And you don't get a chance to ask because he speaks again.

“Let me drive you.”

Confusion takes root in you more strongly, creating an uncomfortable emptiness in your stomach. You blink, trying to decipher what's going on, trying to understand why he's telling you that, why he seems so determined.

He looks at you with the same impenetrable expression as always. And you say nothing, because you don't know what to say. Your lips part in an attempt to respond, but your voice gets stuck in your throat when, behind him, a figure catches your attention.

And then you see her.

Cerelle.

She stands in the distance, at the entrance to the library, her large, bright eyes fixed on Aemond, watching him with a mixture of confusion, despair and sadness. Her posture is rigid, her lips slightly parted as if she is about to call out to him, but she doesn't. She just stands there, watching him, waiting.

She waits for him to look at her, to turn and for him to come back to her.

But he doesn't.

And you don't understand.

Every part of you screams that this is wrong, that this shouldn't be happening, that he shouldn't be here with you when she's clearly waiting for him. So, without much thought, the question escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“But don't you have to go with her?”

The words hang suspended between you. Aemond blinks, but doesn't answer right away. He just watches you silently, his jaw tense, his expression indecipherable.

And you watch him intently, to watch her again and him again, with the silence dragging on too long. Until finally, in a low, soft, firm tone he speaks.

“Let's go.”

He doesn't answer your question. He doesn't look back. He just says those words, clear and decisive.

And that should be enough for you to refuse, to insist on an answer, to tell him you want no part of this. Not again.

But he's overconfident, as if he's making a decision, leaving her behind. And a part of you, the most vulnerable and desperate part, wants to understand what's going on. It wants explanations.

So you nod.

You say nothing more as he places a hand on your shoulder cautiously and gently, to begin directing you toward one of the parking spaces.

He opens the passenger door for you and you settle into the seat with the sound of rain hitting the windshield in the background. He starts the engine, the heater begins to fill the interior with warm, enveloping air, but the silence between you is almost unbearable.

The drive is short, just a few minutes as your residence is not far away, but every second feels eternal. Neither of you speaks. You don't even look at each other.

Until finally, Aemond pulls up in front of your building and breaks the silence.

“You wanted to talk to me?”

Your gaze lingers on your hands, on how your fingertips trace invisible lines on your pants. You don't know where to start, don't even know if there's still any point in saying anything.

Still, you nod. But you don't fully answer his question.

“I thought you were going with her,” you mutter, without thinking too hard.

The tension in the car intensifies. Aemond says nothing. He doesn't respond. And for some reason, that makes your chest tighten even more.

And instead of answering, he simply points to your building with a slight nod of his head.

“Can I come up with you?”

Your breath catches in your throat. You look up at him, actually seeing him for the first time since he stopped you in the middle of the hallway.

And the only truth that resonates in your head is that you don't understand anything. You don't understand why he's here, why he's asking you this. But after a long second, finally, you nod.

And without another word, you both get out of the car and head to your dorm room.

Your door closes behind Aemond with a faint click. But the sound echoes in the air like an echo. Everything around you feels strangely quiet. The air is thick, charged with an almost palpable tension, and you can feel Aemond's presence behind you, so close that you can feel the warmth he exudes.

Nerves invade you and you move away from him, as if he burns you. You don't know what to do or what to say because the truth is that you still don't fully understand how you got here.

So long without seeing him, without talking to him and now suddenly, he is here.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of thoughts in your head. You take off your jacket with a mechanical gesture and drop it on your bed. Aemond takes off his as well, leaving it on the back of your chair next to your desk.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, unsure, a little uncomfortable, and watch as he paces around your room, as if it's been a long time since he was last here.

When he suddenly focuses on the vase on your night stand next to your bed and a very small, barely visible smile appears on his lips.

“They're pretty.”

Her voice breaks the silence with an unexpected softness, too casual, trying to lighten the mood.

You follow the direction of his gaze and see the hydrangeas in the glass vase, still fresh and full of life, as if time had not touched them since the day he gave them to you.

“Thank you… by the way.”

He walks over to them, running his fingertips over the delicate petals carefully, while you stand at the foot of your bed, trying not to stare at him too much, then take a seat on the soft mattress.

Seconds pass, neither of you say anything and you don't understand what you are doing.

Then, he finally turns to you, with his soft gaze and speaks.

“You said they're your favorite, that night when we went to dinner, the hydrangeas.”

You don't say anything, you just watch him and nod slightly, you too remembering those days. But you definitely weren't prepared for what he says next.

“Your favorite color is purple. Your favorite animal is cats and wolves. Your favorite series is Stranger Things and your favorite movie is Maze Runner.”

Your breath catches for a moment and you watch him intently.

“You love the beach, watching sunsets, exploring hidden waterfalls, reading, and you love all the history of royal families, like the Tudors and the Romanovs. You want to go to Wales, to explore abandoned castles, London, Romania, Egypt and Versailles, to see Marie Antoinette's bedroom,“ he then says, stealing your breath, ‘”And you like The Weeknd, but also classical music and Taylor Swift,” he finishes.

You fall completely silent, your mind unable to process the amount of things he just said with such precision. You stare at him in surprise, feeling a lump in your throat that you can't explain.

It's not that these are secret facts about you, but you don't mention them that often either. Only once or twice. But you definitely never expected him to remember them.

You always thought Aemond wasn't someone who paid too much attention to details, at least not when it came to you. But here he is, reciting them as if they were etched into his skin. As if he knew you better than you thought he did.

He notices your expression and lets out a sigh, averting his gaze for a second before meeting you again with his clear eyes.

“I know you like the back of my hand Y/N,” he says in a soft, firm tone, ”The problem was… I didn't show that I was paying attention.”

Your heart beats painfully against your chest.

You don't know what to say, because this is a side of Aemond you've never seen before. Not the proud, cold guy who always seems unattainable, but someone genuine, someone who has actually been watching you all this time, even when you thought he hadn't.

But you can't be fooled by emotions.

Pursing your lips, you avert your gaze to your hands, feeling a pang of uncertainty prickle in your chest. You shake your head slightly, trying to rearrange your thoughts before speaking.

“I-I… I didn't let you into my room so you'd think I'd still be her replacement.”

Aemond lets out a small, low chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief.

You watch him instantly, completely serious, not understanding his reaction. But when he looks back at you, his expression has become more intense, more sincere.

“Haven't you understood?” he murmurs, his voice full of something you can't quite identify.

He takes a step toward you, then another, another, and another, narrowing the distance between you until he stands in front of you.

“I'm here with you because I want you,” he tells you firmly and clearly, ”I don't want her. I want you.”

The words fall on you like an unexpected blow, leaving you for a moment without air. Because even if you wanted to deny it, even if you tried to convince yourself that this was all a mistake, you can't ignore the way your heart races with his confession.

And worst of all, you know he's not lying.

He lets out a heavy exhale, running a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture.

“I was an idiot,” he says, his voice low, almost hoarse, ”I wasted too much time chasing after a girl who was never worth it. And in the process, I hurt you…because she was hurting me.”

Something in his expression hardens, as if he hates to admit it. But then his gaze softens as he settles on you again.

“And I'm sorry. I'm really sorry.”

Your chest tightens with a million emotions at once. Because you didn't expect this. You didn't expect him to say it so clearly, so bluntly, without the arrogance that has always characterized him.

But the fear is still there.

You fold your arms, trying to keep your stance firm, trying to remember all the reasons why you shouldn't give in so easily.

“I don't know if I can do this,” you mutter, in a low, vulnerable tone.

“And I don't blame you,” he says right away, ”But you want to know the truth? I got feelings,” he confesses, ”But I was letting myself be held back by her.”

Your throat closes up. You don't know what's worse, knowing that he had feelings for you or knowing that he put them aside for someone else who never reciprocated and simply wanted his attention.

And he noticing the whirlwind of emotions on your face, he moves a little closer towards you.

“And I fucked it all up,” he says almost in a lament, “But I want to fix it.”

Your breathing quickens.

You can't trust him. Not after all.

And yet…

“Y/N,” his voice calls back to you, low, raw, honest, ”I know the last thing you want is to trust me. And I don't expect things between us to go back to the way they were. I want to make things right now, with the formalities, titles and all. If you need time, I'll give it to you, no matter how much, I'll… I'll wait for you,” he promises, ”But only if you want me to.”

Silence.

Your eyes dive into his, searching for some trace of a lie, some sign that this is all just another empty promise. But all you find is sincerity. A raw, vulnerable sincerity you've never seen in him before.

This is everything you've wanted to hear from him. Everything.

To be reciprocated.

And now that he's finally telling you, you can't stop the tears from starting to form in your eyes.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts. It's all too much. Too intense, too sudden. And yet, when you open your eyes and look at him again, something inside you begins to resurface.

Hope.

But not the hope of “someday,” no, but the hope that this, here and now, works. Because it's finally happening.

“Just you and me.”

You say it quietly, as if you're still testing how it feels to say it out loud, how it feels to let it out after holding it in for so long.

And Aemond nods without hesitation.

“Just you and me,” he repeats, ”Only you.”

And for the first time in a long time, you believe in him.

And when he holds out his hand to you, you take it.

His fingers intertwine with yours, warm, firm, as if he's reassuring you that this time he's not going to let go. As if he wants to show you that there is no one else, that there should never have been anyone else.

Because now, there is only you.

thank you for reading!

@almostpurplelady @fauxraven @targaryendestiel @bigsimpforremuslupin

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen angst #aemond one shot #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #modern aemond

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liannafae · 29 days ago

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So amazing 😍👏🏻

Green Snake, Red Lion Masterlist

[ Slytherin • Aemond x Gryffindor • female ]

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

[description: Aemond is a Chaser and captain of the Slytherin team. His biggest rival on the pitch from the Gryffindor team, turned to be his biggest fan, and he hates her with all of his heart. His hatred towards her slowly turns into something else, when she one day stands up for his sister, Helaena. This is slow burn love story.]

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

The Bliss (Drabble)

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liannafae · 29 days ago

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I NEED MOREEEEEEEEE 😭😭😭😭

Unspoken Desires - Mafia!Aegon Targaryen x RivalDaughter!Reader

Summary : As you tried to navigate the dangerous waters of business, betrayal, and loyalty, the world shifted. The very people you trusted, the ones you loved, turned against you. The power struggles between your families bled into your personal life, and your love became the price to pay. When your life was on the line, when you were betrayed by those closest to you, you felt yourself slipping away, your body and spirit breaking under the weight of it all.

Warning : mention of blood, gun, murder, violence and many more.

Aegon Masterlist.

The world seemed to spin as you lay on the cold pavement, your body aching with the weight of betrayal and the sharp sting of injuries. Blood pooled around you, the metallic scent filling your senses as the sound of footsteps grew fainter. The headlights of your crumpled car flickered weakly in the darkness, casting faint shadows against the desolate street.

You tried to move, but pain radiated from every limb, rooting you to the spot. A soft whimper escaped your lips as your mind struggled to process what had just happened. The men who walked away… they were your father’s.

You had always known that your choice to be with Aegon carried risks, but you never imagined it would lead to this. The rivalry between your father and Aegon had always been a storm waiting to erupt. Aegon’s business ventures clashed directly with your father’s, and your relationship was the spark that ignited an unspoken war.

Your vision blurred as you thought of Aegon—his smirk, his touch, the way he whispered promises of a better life far from your father’s control. Would he even know what had happened to you? Or would this be another casualty in the relentless feud?

A distant sound of tires screeching broke through the haze, pulling you from your spiraling thoughts. A car approached, its headlights flooding the street with light. You closed your eyes, unsure whether it was help… or more danger.

The car came to a screeching halt beside you. Doors slammed, and hurried footsteps approached. A voice you recognized instantly called out, panicked and raw.

“Stay with me! Stay awake!” Aegon’s face hovered above you, his hands trembling as they pressed against your wounds, trying to stop the bleeding. His usually calm demeanor was gone, replaced with sheer desperation.

“I’m… sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“No,” he snapped, his voice breaking. “Don’t you dare apologize. This is not your fault. I’ll fix this—I’ll make them pay.”

Darkness began to creep in at the edges of your vision, but you held onto the sound of his voice, the warmth of his hands on yours. Would this be the end, or just the beginning of a storm far greater than you ever imagined?

Aegon’s steps were hurried and uneven as he carried your limp body into his house, his shirt soaked with your blood. His face was pale, his eyes wide with fear and fury as he stormed past his startled family. Alicent, who had been sitting in the living room, stood abruptly.

“Aegon, what happened?!” she exclaimed, her voice shaking.

“Call the doctor. Now!” he barked, not stopping to explain as he headed for the stairs.

The urgency in his tone made Alicent fumble for her phone, her fingers trembling as she dialed the number. Aegon didn’t wait to hear if she’d made the call. His only focus was on you.

Reaching his bedroom, he kicked the door open with a force that sent it slamming against the wall. The sound echoed through the house, but he didn’t care. Gently, he placed you on his bed, his hands hovering over you, unsure where to start.

“Aegon…” you murmured weakly, your eyes barely open.

“No,” he said firmly, leaning closer. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. Stay with me. Please.” His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw the raw emotion in his usually guarded expression.

His hands trembled as he grabbed a towel from a nearby chair and pressed it against your worst wound, trying to stop the bleeding. Blood seeped through the fabric, and his jaw clenched tightly.

“You’re going to be fine. The doctor’s on the way,” he whispered, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself.

The door behind him opened, and Alicent rushed in, her face pale with worry. “The doctor is on his way. Aegon, tell me—what happened?”

He didn’t even look at her, his focus entirely on you. “They did this. Her father’s men,” he spat, venom dripping from every word.

Alicent’s breath hitched, but she quickly composed herself. “Aegon, let me—”

“No!” he snapped, his voice rising. “She’s staying here. No one else is touching her but the doctor. No one.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you watched him, his anger and desperation palpable. “I’m… sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Stop,” he said, his expression softening for just a moment. He leaned closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “You don’t get to apologize. You don’t get to leave me. Not now. Not ever.”

His words were both a plea and a command, and as your vision began to blur again, you held onto the sound of his voice, the unwavering determination in it.

Aegon paced back and forth at the foot of the bed, his hands running through his hair in frustration and panic. His usually confident demeanor was shattered, replaced with pure desperation. His voice cut through the tense air as he barked orders to his men.

“I don’t care what it takes—get me everything. Machines, medicine, everything she needs. I’ll pay whatever it costs!” he growled. His sharp gaze turned to Alicent, who lingered by the door. “Make sure no one comes near this house unless I say so.”

Alicent nodded silently, her face pale but composed. She stepped out to relay his commands.

The doctor finally entered, a professional yet tense expression on his face as he took in the scene. He approached you cautiously, his bag in hand. “Let me take a look,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

Aegon immediately stepped aside but hovered close, his eyes never leaving you. “Fix her. I don’t care what it takes—just fix her,” he demanded, his voice trembling slightly.

The doctor nodded and got to work, checking your pulse and inspecting the wounds. He pulled out supplies from his bag, quickly stitching and dressing the worst of your injuries while monitoring your vitals.

“She’s lost a lot of blood,” the doctor said, his tone serious. “We’ll need a transfusion. Has her blood type been tested?”

“Mine’s the same,” Aegon interjected without hesitation. “Do it now.”

The doctor hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright. I’ll set it up, but she’ll need constant care. She’s stable for now, but the next 24 hours are critical.”

Aegon didn’t wait for the explanation to finish. He grabbed his phone and began making calls, demanding specialists, equipment, and anything else that might help. His usual bravado was replaced by a singular focus on keeping you alive.

As the doctor worked, Aegon sank into a chair beside the bed, his hand finding yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, his grip firm yet gentle. “You’re not leaving me,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “You hear me? You’re staying right here. With me.”

Even in your hazy state, his presence anchored you, his words cutting through the fog of pain and fear. You squeezed his hand weakly, a small sign that you heard him, that you were still fighting.

Aegon sat by your bedside, his hands clenched into fists as he replayed the events in his mind. The thought of your father—someone who was supposed to protect and cherish you—going to such lengths to harm you made his blood boil. He glanced at you, lying there pale and still, and the fire inside him only grew stronger.

“I knew he hated me,” Aegon muttered, his voice low and filled with venom. “I knew he’d try to destroy me, to ruin what I’ve built. But this?” He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “Hurting his own daughter to get to me… I never thought he’d stoop this low.”

He leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands covering his face. The weight of his anger and guilt pressed down on him. “I should have seen this coming,” he whispered, almost to himself. “I should have protected you better.”

The door creaked open, and Alicent stepped inside, her face a mix of worry and anger. “Aegon,” she said softly, approaching him. “You need to calm down. Losing your temper won’t help her recover.”

Aegon looked up, his eyes red and wild. “Calm down? Calm down? She’s lying here because of him, Mother. Because he couldn’t stand that she chose me. And you want me to calm down?”

Alicent placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. “Yes, I do. Because if you lose control, you’ll play right into his hands. He’s trying to provoke you, to make you act recklessly. Don’t give him the satisfaction.”

Aegon shook his head, pulling away from her touch. “I won’t sit here and do nothing. He needs to pay for this—he can’t just get away with it.”

Alicent sighed, her expression softening as she glanced at you. “She needs you right now, Aegon. Focus on her. We’ll deal with him when the time is right.”

Aegon’s gaze returned to you, his hand finding yours. He stroked your fingers gently, his anger momentarily giving way to a deep sadness. “I’ll keep her safe, no matter what,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alicent nodded. “And I’ll make sure you have the support you need. We won’t let him hurt her again.”

But in Aegon’s heart, he knew this wasn’t over. Your father had crossed a line, and no amount of reasoning could quell the storm brewing within him. For now, he stayed by your side, his resolve only growing stronger. This wasn’t just about business or rivalry anymore—it was personal. And Aegon wouldn’t stop until justice was served.

Aemond stepped into the dimly lit room, his gaze shifting from you, lying unconscious on the bed, to Aegon, who was pacing like a caged lion. His silver hair fell messily over his shoulders, his expression dark with fury.

“They wiped the CCTV,” Aemond said, his tone calm yet sharp, like a blade about to strike. “Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing.”

Aegon stopped in his tracks, his head snapping toward his brother. “Of course, they did,” he spat, his voice dripping with venom. “It’s him. It’s her father. That bastard won’t rest until he’s destroyed everything I care about.”

Aemond narrowed his eye. “If he’s willing to go this far, then this is war, Aegon. We have to be careful.”

“Careful?” Aegon’s laugh was bitter, almost unhinged. He turned to face his brother fully, his fists clenched. “You think I care about being careful? Look at her, Aemond!” He pointed to you, his voice cracking. “She’s lying there because of him. Because he couldn’t handle the fact that she chose me!”

Aemond didn’t flinch, his expression cold and calculating. “Recklessness won’t help her. Think this through.”

But Aegon was beyond reason. He grabbed the nearest chair, hurling it against the wall, the wood splintering on impact. “I don’t care about thinking! I want him to pay! Gather everyone—all of them,” he growled. “Every man who owes me a favor, every contact we have. I want him to feel what it’s like to lose everything.”

Aemond hesitated for a moment, his eye flickering between Aegon’s wild rage and your fragile form on the bed. “And what about her?” he asked, his voice softer but no less serious. “She needs you here, Aegon. If you go after her father now, you’ll leave her vulnerable.”

Aegon’s chest heaved as he struggled to calm his breathing. He looked at you, his expression softening, but the fury in his eyes didn’t fade. “I won’t leave her,” he said, his voice low but resolute. “But I won’t let this go, either. Do what I said, Aemond. Start gathering them. Quietly. I want everything in place.”

Aemond gave a curt nod, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Very well. But don’t let your emotions blind you, brother. Revenge won’t mean anything if it costs you what you’re trying to protect.”

Aegon didn’t respond, his gaze locked on you as he sank into the chair by your bedside. He reached for your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “I’ll protect her,” he murmured, more to himself than anyone else. “No matter what it takes.”

Aemond left the room without another word, his steps purposeful as he began to carry out Aegon’s orders. The storm brewing between Aegon and your father was about to reach its breaking point, and nothing would ever be the same.

The dim light of the room cast long shadows across the walls, broken only by the steady beeping of the monitor and the whispered pleas of Aegon. His hand trembled as it held yours, his thumb brushing gently over your bruised knuckles.

“Please,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, laced with desperation. “You have to wake up… I can’t do this without you.”

He looked at your face, pale and still, your body a stark contrast to the vibrant person you once were. Tubes and bandages obscured the familiar features he adored, and it tore at his soul. The sight of you like this was unbearable, a reminder of how cruel the world could be.

His mind drifted back to the first time he saw you, a fleeting moment of warmth in the chaos of his life. He remembered how you’d smiled at him, not with the wary caution most showed, but with a genuine light that pierced through the darkness he carried.

It had been at a gallery opening, one of many events he attended out of obligation rather than interest. But there you were, standing in the corner with a glass of wine, your eyes scanning the room with a quiet curiosity. When your gaze met his, something shifted in him.

He’d approached you with his usual arrogance, masking his nerves with a smirk and a teasing comment. “Lost in the art or just trying to avoid the crowd?”

You’d laughed, a sound that still echoed in his memory, and replied, “A bit of both. Though, judging by your expression, I’d say you’re doing the same.”

From that moment, he was hooked. The nights that followed were filled with stolen glances, whispered secrets, and laughter that seemed to make the world fade away. He loved the way you challenged him, the way you saw past his bravado to the person he tried so hard to hide.

But then your father found out.

The man who’d once smiled at his daughter’s joy had turned cold, his anger palpable as he confronted Aegon. Business rivalries and old grudges fueled his hatred, and he’d made it clear: Aegon wasn’t worthy of you.

Aegon clenched his jaw at the memory, his grip on your hand tightening. He’d known there would be consequences for defying your father, but he never imagined they would come to this. Seeing you lying here, broken and battered, filled him with a guilt he couldn’t shake.

“I should’ve protected you,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I should’ve done more.”

He leaned closer, pressing his forehead to your hand. “But I swear to you, this isn’t over. I’ll make him pay for what he’s done. And when you wake up… we’ll leave all this behind. Just you and me. Like we always planned.”

His words hung in the air, a desperate promise to the woman he loved. As the night stretched on, Aegon stayed by your side, his mind replaying every moment, every memory, every reason he couldn’t let you go.

The endless field stretched before you, its emerald grass swaying gently in the breeze. The horizon seemed infinite, a serene yet haunting sight. You turned your head, searching for him.

“Aegon?” you called, your voice trembling. The emptiness that answered you sent a chill down your spine.

Panic set in as your mind raced with questions. Am I dead? Is this the end?

Then, faintly, you heard it. A sound that pierced the silence—a cry, desperate and broken. His voice. Aegon’s voice, calling your name, filled with anguish.

Your heart pounded as you turned toward the sound. Relief flooded you for a brief moment. “Aegon!” you shouted, your feet moving instinctively toward him. “I’m here!”

But the more you ran, the farther the sound seemed to drift. His cries grew distant, fading into the wind. You pushed yourself harder, your legs aching as you sprinted across the endless plain.

“No! Please, don’t leave me!” you yelled, tears streaming down your face.

The harder you tried, the more futile it became. The distance between you and his voice felt insurmountable, like chasing a shadow that always slipped through your fingers.

You fell to your knees, breathless and defeated, tears pooling in the grass beneath you.

“I’m here,” you whispered, though you knew he couldn’t hear you. “Aegon, I’m right here…”

As your voice faltered, the sound of his sobs echoed faintly in your ears, like a cruel reminder of the love you were desperately reaching for. The field around you blurred, a haze of green and gray, as despair wrapped around you like a shroud.

For the first time, you felt truly lost, caught in a liminal space where the world and the one you loved were just out of reach.

The first rays of sunlight crept into the room, casting a pale golden glow over the chaos. Aegon sat beside you, his eyes red from lack of sleep and tears, his hand clutching yours as if letting go would mean losing you forever. His disheveled hair and the dark circles under his eyes bore witness to his unwavering vigil.

He hadn’t moved, not even when the hours dragged on and the world outside began to stir. Every beep of the monitor made his heart lurch, each shallow breath you took a fragile reassurance that you were still there.

When the door opened and Alicent stepped in, her gaze softened as she took in the sight of her son, broken and relentless.

“Aegon,” she said gently, walking toward him. “You need to rest. You won’t do her any good if you collapse.”

He shook his head without even looking at her, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’m not leaving her,” he said hoarsely. “I can’t.”

Alicent sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “She needs you strong, Aegon. Please, just an hour—”

“No.” His voice cracked, and he finally looked up at his mother, his eyes filled with desperation. “If something happens while I’m gone… if she wakes up and I’m not here… I can’t, Mother. I can’t leave her.”

Alicent’s heart broke at the sight of him. She knelt beside him, brushing his hair back the way she had when he was a child. “She’s strong,” she whispered. “And she’ll fight to come back to you. But you must take care of yourself too, my love.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze returning to you. He whispered softly, “I’m not going anywhere. I’ll stay right here. She’ll wake up… and I’ll be the first thing she sees."

Alicent stood, realizing there was no convincing him. With a final look at her son and a silent prayer for your recovery, she left the room, leaving him alone with you once more.

Aegon stood in the center of his study, his hands trembling with anger and frustration. The room, once neat and orderly, now resembled the aftermath of a storm—papers scattered, furniture overturned, glass broken. His usually composed demeanor had been shattered, replaced by a raw, unrelenting fury that had been simmering for days.

It had been more than four days since you had fallen unconscious, your body battered and broken from the cruel attack. And yet, you hadn’t opened your eyes. No sign of movement, no sign of life beyond the machines monitoring your vitals. Each day that passed felt like a lifetime, a slow suffocating spiral that he couldn’t escape.

And the one thing he needed, the one thing that could give him the smallest shred of peace, was still out of reach. His men had been unable to bring your father before him. The man who had torn you apart, who had put you in this position, was still hidden behind the walls of his power, unreachable.

Aegon’s chest heaved with each labored breath, his heart racing with frustration. The people he trusted had failed him, and the one thing he needed more than anything—revenge—was slipping further from his grasp.

“Why can’t I fix this?” Aegon muttered through gritted teeth, his voice raw. He slammed his fist into the desk in front of him, the wood splintering slightly under the force. His anger echoed through the walls, but it did nothing to ease the ache in his chest.

He paused, staring down at his bloodied knuckles. His frustration boiled over once again as he sank into the chair, burying his face in his hands.

“I can’t lose her…” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I won’t.”

The room was silent, save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Aegon’s eyes closed tightly, as if willing the tears back, unwilling to let anyone see him break. He didn’t know how much longer he could endure this. The weight of it all was pressing in on him, suffocating him. But still, there was one thing that kept him going. The thought of you.

He wouldn’t let you die. He couldn’t.

Aegon stood up abruptly, his decision made. He would find a way to make your father pay. No matter what it took.

Aegon’s heart skipped a beat as Alicent rushed into the room, her face pale with fear. The sight of her mother’s panicked expression sent a jolt of dread through him. He didn’t need words to understand what had happened. Something was terribly wrong.

Without a second thought, he bolted for the door, his feet pounding against the stone floor as he rushed toward your room. His mind raced with terror, imagining the worst. His breath hitched as he reached the door, the sounds of frantic activity spilling into the hallway.

He threw open the door, his eyes immediately locking on the sight of you in bed. Doctors and nurses surrounded you, their hands working quickly, but the sight was enough to freeze him in place.

You were pale, your chest barely rising and falling. A machine was hooked up to you, pumping your heart back into rhythm, the steady beeping of the monitor the only sound breaking through the heavy silence.

Aegon’s breath caught in his throat, his legs weakening beneath him as he stumbled forward, unable to tear his eyes away from your still form. His whole world seemed to shatter in that instant. Every nightmare he’d had since you’d fallen unconscious seemed to come to life before his eyes.

He heard Alicent’s voice behind him, calling out in desperate pleas for the doctors to do more, but all Aegon could focus on was you. His heart clenched as his knees gave way, and he collapsed beside the bed, reaching out to gently take your hand in his.

“You have to wake up,” he whispered, his voice breaking. His fingers trembled as he gripped your hand tighter, his eyes never leaving your face. “Please, you have to wake up. I can’t lose you… not now.”

His voice cracked with the weight of everything he felt—fear, anger, desperation. It was all too much to bear, the thought of losing you, of not being able to fix what had been broken.

Time seemed to slow as he waited, his heart racing with every passing second. The doctors worked feverishly, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, praying that you would come back to him, that this nightmare would end.

And then, just as he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, the machine beeped louder, more steady, more hopeful.

Aegon’s breath hitched as he watched the monitors show signs of improvement. The doctors exchanged relieved glances, but Aegon didn’t care about their reassurance. He only cared about you.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “Please, stay with me.”

Aegon sat by your bed, his hand clutching yours with a desperation he couldn’t hide. His heart ached as he watched you, lifeless and pale, the once vibrant spark that lit up his world now dimmed. He was never one to show fear, never one to feel helpless—but now, as he looked at you, vulnerable and still, a deep terror gripped him.

“You can’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Please, just open your eyes. Come back to me.”

The words escaped him in a choked breath, the weight of the truth crashing down on him. He had lived a life filled with power, control, and dominance, but in this moment, he felt small, powerless. His world, his future, was slipping through his fingers, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He leaned closer, his forehead brushing against your hand as he held it tightly, as if the simple act of contact could somehow pull you back from the brink.

“I can’t lose you,” he continued, the pain evident in his voice. “I can’t… I never thought I could feel this way, but now, all I want is for you to wake up. For you to be okay.”

He gently brushed a lock of hair away from your face, his fingers trembling as they traced the contours of your cheek. The sight of you in this condition, so still, so pale, was something he never wanted to see again. It was too much to bear.

“Aegon Targaryen isn’t supposed to be afraid,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he leaned over you. “But right now, I don’t know how to live without you. Please… don’t leave me. I need you.”

The room was filled with the soft sound of the machines, the occasional shuffle of the doctors and nurses, but Aegon was unaware of anything other than the overwhelming fear in his chest. His eyes never left you, his grip on your hand never loosening.

The uncertainty of it all felt unbearable. He had never felt so vulnerable, so out of control, and yet, as he sat there beside you, he realized just how deeply he cared—how deeply he loved you.

“I’m not strong enough to face this without you,” he murmured. “But I’ll stay here, and I’ll wait for you. I’ll do anything, just please… wake up.”

Aegon’s heart skipped a beat when he felt the faintest movement of your finger. His breath caught in his throat, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. He watched you closely, desperate for any sign that you were returning to him. His eyes were wide, filled with hope, yet tinged with fear.

“Love,” he whispered, his voice trembling, as if speaking louder might shatter the fragile moment. He leaned closer, his hand still gripping yours, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers. “Please, just a little more… I’m here.”

He watched your face, willing you to open your eyes, to show him that you were still there, that you could hear him. The room seemed to shrink around him, the steady beep of the heart monitor, the distant sounds of footsteps, all fading away until it was just the two of you.

His voice cracked again, soft and pleading, “You have to come back to me. I can’t do this without you. You’re the only thing that matters.”

But despite the movement in your hand, your eyelids remained closed, and Aegon’s hope flickered just as quickly as it had ignited. His grip tightened on your hand, as if holding onto you could somehow pull you back from the edge, back into his arms.

“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” he murmured. “I won’t give up on you.”

The room was silent except for the rhythmic sound of your breathing and the faint pulse of the machines. Aegon continued to watch you, his face a mixture of hope and desperation, every fiber of his being urging you to come back. He could feel your pulse, steady beneath his touch, and he clung to that small sign that you were still with him, even if you couldn’t respond yet.

He would wait for as long as it took, because losing you was not an option.

Alicent approached slowly, her footsteps soft as she neared Aegon and the bed where you lay motionless. She stopped beside her son, her gaze full of concern, both for you and for Aegon. Gently, she rested a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“Aegon,” she said softly, her voice steady yet filled with maternal authority. “You need to rest. You’ve been here for days without sleep. If she were awake, you know she would be upset seeing you like this—exhausted, not taking care of yourself.”

Aegon shook his head, his grip on your hand tightening as though letting go, even for a moment, would mean losing you. “I can’t leave her, Mother,” he said hoarsely, his voice cracking with emotion. “What if something happens while I’m gone? I can’t risk it.”

Alicent crouched down beside him, her eyes meeting his as she spoke with gentle insistence. “I’ll stay with her. I’ll watch over her, I promise. But you need to sleep, Aegon. You’ll be no good to her if you collapse from exhaustion.”

Aegon’s jaw clenched, his eyes flickering between Alicent and you. He didn’t want to leave, not even for a moment, but deep down, he knew his mother was right. He couldn’t help you if he wore himself down to nothing. Reluctantly, he nodded, though his hand still lingered on yours.

“Promise me you won’t leave her side,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Alicent placed a hand over his. “I promise. She won’t be alone. Go rest, Aegon. She’ll need you strong when she wakes up.”

With one last lingering look at you, Aegon leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss against your forehead. His lips trembled against your skin, and when he pulled back, his eyes were red but determined. He released your hand slowly, as though it pained him to do so, and stood up.

“I’ll be back soon,” he whispered, his voice filled with a promise. Then, with one final glance, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving you in Alicent’s care. She settled into the chair beside your bed, her expression calm but watchful, silently praying for your recovery.

Alicent sat quietly beside your bed, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out to gently stroke your cheek. Her touch was soft, almost hesitant, as though afraid that even the slightest pressure might hurt you. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of sorrow and hope, lingered on your face—pale and motionless, yet still so full of life to her.

“You’ve become more than a girlfriend to my son,” Alicent whispered, her voice barely audible but steady. “You’re the second daughter I never had, the light in this family’s darkness.”

Her thumb traced gentle circles against your skin, her expression softening as memories of you filled her mind. “You’ve brought a change to all of us—Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, Daeron… even me. I see how you’ve touched each of our lives in ways I never thought possible.”

A faint smile appeared on her lips, though it was tinged with sadness. “Aegon… he’s a better man because of you. You gave him purpose, something no one else could. You’ve shown him love, real love, and I will forever be grateful to you for that.”

Her voice wavered slightly, but she continued, her words spilling out like a quiet prayer. “Helaena, she smiles more when you’re around. Aemond… he listens to you. He respects you, and that’s no small feat. Even Daeron, though he’s far away, feels the strength of this family because of what you’ve brought to it.”

Alicent paused, her gaze lowering as tears gathered in her eyes. “And me… You gave me hope, my dear. Hope that despite everything this family has endured, we can still find peace. You’ve shown me that.”

She leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if willing her strength into you. When she pulled back, her eyes were resolute. “You have to come back to us. To Aegon. To this family that needs you more than you know.”

Her hand remained on your cheek as she sat back in her chair, silent now, but her heart filled with determination. She would not leave your side. Not until you opened your eyes and returned to the family you had so deeply changed.

Aegon stormed through the dimly lit corridors of his estate, his footsteps echoing with the weight of his fury. His hand gripped the pistol tightly, knuckles white from the force of his hold. Aemond was already waiting in the underground chamber, standing stoically with his hands clasped behind his back, his expression calm but his eyes cold with menace.

The heavy door to the basement groaned open, and Aegon stepped in, his face a mask of controlled rage. In the center of the room, shackled to a chair under a single hanging bulb, was your father. His face was bloodied, his suit torn, yet his expression remained defiant. Aegon's lips curled into a bitter smirk as he approached, the pistol glinting in the dim light.

"So, this is the man who thought he could take her away from me." His voice was low and dangerous, each word dripping with venom. "You dared to harm her, your own flesh and blood. Did you think I'd let you walk away from this?"

Your father sneered, spitting blood onto the floor. "She betrayed her family for you, Aegon. She deserved to be reminded of where her loyalty should lie."

Before the words could settle, Aegon lashed out, the back of his hand striking your father's face with a sickening crack. Aemond didn't move, his presence as silent and foreboding as a shadow.

"She chose love," Aegon hissed, leaning in close, his eyes blazing. "Something you'll never understand. And now, she's lying in my bed, fighting for her life because of you."

Aegon straightened, pacing back and forth, the pistol still clutched in his hand. Aemond's voice broke the tense silence. "Aegon, focus. If you let your anger control you, you'll make mistakes."

Aegon shot his brother a glare but didn't respond. Instead, he turned back to your father. "You've made one fatal error," he said, his voice eerily calm now. "You thought l'd crumble. You thought l'd let her slip through my fingers. But you underestimated me, just like you underestimated her strength."

He raised the pistol, aiming it squarely at your father's chest. The room was thick with tension, the air almost suffocating as Aegon's finger hovered over the trigger. Aemond stepped forward, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Aegon," he said firmly, his voice measured. "Think. Killing him will be too easy. Make him suffer. Make him understand what it means to lose everything."

Aegon hesitated, his grip tightening on the weapon. Then, slowly, he lowered it, his expression dark and unreadable. "You're right," he muttered. "Death would be a mercy for him."

Turning to one of his men, Aegon barked, "Lock him up. No light, no food, no water. Let him rot."

As your father was dragged away, his defiance finally cracked, replaced by a flicker of fear. Aegon stood still, his chest heaving with anger. Aemond placed a hand on his shoulder again, grounding him.

"She'll wake up, brother," Aemond said quietly.

"And when she does, you'll need to be there for her-not consumed by this." Aegon nodded, his jaw tight. "She's the only thing that matters now."

Aegon sat down beside you. His eyes, once full of fire and determination, were now clouded with pain, his expression crumbling as he held your hand tightly in his own. His fingers trembled, but his grip remained firm, as though he feared letting go of you would mean losing you entirely.

“You… you have to wake up,” Aegon whispered, his voice breaking, filled with raw emotion. “I’ve done everything. Your father is in my hands now. No one will hurt you again, I swear it.”

He paused, his breath hitching as the weight of everything seemed to crash down on him. “I will make him pay for what he did to you, I will make sure that no one ever lays a hand on you again. I’ll destroy anyone who dares to hurt you.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he wiped them away angrily, trying to regain some composure. His voice cracked again, and he lowered his head, pressing it against the bed, the sound of his sobs filling the quiet room. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve protected you better. I should’ve known what you were going through. But now… now, I’ll do anything to make sure you’re safe. You can’t leave me. I can’t… I can’t live with myself if I lose you.”

He raised his head, his eyes desperate as he stared at your still face. “Please, just wake up. Come back to me… to us. I can’t bear this silence, this emptiness without you. Please, don’t leave me alone in this world, not after everything we’ve been through.”

Aegon’s voice trailed off as he let his tears fall freely, his head resting gently on your hand. He stayed there for what felt like hours, never moving, never leaving your side, hoping that somehow, through all his pain, you could feel his love, feel the desperation in his heart to see you open your eyes again.

Your vision slowly began to clear as the world around you came into focus. The first thing you noticed was the warm pressure of Aegon’s hand holding yours. His face was buried against your intertwined hands, his breathing slow and heavy as he rested beside you.

You managed a faint smile, despite the dull ache coursing through your body. Slowly, you moved your hand, your fingers brushing through his disheveled silver hair. It was a small motion, but enough to wake him.

Aegon stirred, his eyes fluttering open, confusion clouding his face for a moment. Then his gaze locked onto yours. His body froze, his mouth slightly agape as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“You’re awake,” he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. His grip on your hand tightened as tears welled up in his eyes. He leaned closer, his free hand brushing your cheek as though to confirm you were real.

“I thought I lost you,” he said, his voice breaking as tears began streaming down his face. “I was so scared… so scared that I’d never hear your voice or see your smile again.”

You gave him a weak smile, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m here, Aegon.”

The relief on his face was overwhelming. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, his tears falling onto your skin. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again,” he murmured, his voice both firm and pleading.

You squeezed his hand gently, your strength slowly returning. “I’ll try,” you whispered with a faint chuckle, your smile growing as you looked into his teary, overjoyed eyes.

In that moment, the pain, fear, and uncertainty that had plagued him for days melted away, replaced by a profound sense of gratitude and love.

After the doctor examined you and assured Aegon that you were stable, he finally exhaled the breath he’d been holding. The weight on his chest seemed to lift, though his grip on your hand remained firm, as if afraid you might slip away again.

You offered him a weak but heartfelt smile, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry, Aegon… for causing you so much pain.”

His expression hardened, not with anger but with determination. He shook his head, his thumb brushing over your hand. “No. This isn’t your fault, and you don’t have to apologize. Ever.”

He leaned closer, his voice low but laced with a fiery resolve. “Your father will pay for what he’s done. I swear it. But right now, none of that matters. I’m not leaving you again. Not after this.”

You saw the raw emotion in his eyes—the pain, the guilt, and above all, the unwavering love. He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if to silently promise he’d never let anything happen to you again.

For the first time since the ordeal began, you felt a sense of safety and comfort. Aegon’s presence, his strength, was enough to anchor you amidst the chaos that had tried to pull you under.

As Aegon lay beside you, holding you protectively in his arms, you felt a small sense of solace despite the lingering pain in your body. You took a deep breath, feeling his steady heartbeat against your back, and began to speak.

“I remember everything, Aegon,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “That night… it’s etched into my mind like a nightmare I can’t wake from.”

His arms tightened around you as if he could shield you from the memory itself. “Tell me,” he said softly, though his tone was edged with barely-contained fury.

You swallowed hard, tears forming in your eyes as the memory replayed vividly. “I was on my way to see you. It was late, and the streets were quiet. Then, out of nowhere, they came. Cars rammed into me from all sides, like wolves circling their prey. The sound of metal crunching, the shattering glass… it was deafening.”

Aegon remained silent, but you could feel his anger simmering beneath the surface.

“When the car finally stopped moving, I was in so much pain I could barely breathe. And then… I heard him. My father.” Your voice cracked, and a tear rolled down your cheek. “He was there, Aegon. I heard his voice. He told them the job was done. Told them to leave me there… to die.”

Aegon’s grip on you became almost desperate, his breath harsh against your shoulder. “That bastard,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “He dared… he dared to do this to you”

You nodded weakly, your voice faltering. “I don’t understand how he could hate me so much… how he could do this to his own blood.”

Aegon shifted, turning you to face him, his eyes filled with a mix of anguish and unyielding determination. “You’re not alone anymore. I won’t let him get away with this. He’ll regret the day he tried to take you from me.”

You nodded, resting your forehead against his, finding comfort in his strength. Despite the terror and betrayal, you knew Aegon wouldn’t let you face this alone.

Aegon’s touch was a balm to your shattered soul, his gentle strokes through your hair and the warmth of his kiss on your forehead grounding you amidst the storm of emotions. You melted into his embrace, finding solace in his presence.

The quiet moment was interrupted by the soft creak of the door opening. Turning your head, you saw Alicent and Aemond stepping inside, their faces filled with relief and urgency. Alicent’s hands were clasped tightly in front of her chest, while Aemond stood slightly behind her, his sharp gaze softening as he looked at you.

“You’re awake,” Alicent said, her voice breaking with emotion as she quickly moved to your bedside. “Oh, thank god. We were so worried.”

Aegon reluctantly pulled away, allowing his mother to take your hand. Her touch was warm, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. “You’ve been through so much,” she said softly. “But you’re here, and you’re safe now. That’s all that matters.”

Aemond stepped forward, his usual stoic demeanor cracking ever so slightly as he nodded at you. “You’re stronger than any of us could have imagined,” he said. “But you should have never had to endure this.”

“I’m sorry to have worried all of you,” you said, your voice still hoarse.

Aegon interjected before anyone could reply, his voice firm. “None of this is your fault. It’s them who will pay. I won’t let them rest until they’ve answered for what they’ve done.”

Alicent placed a comforting hand on her son’s shoulder, grounding him. “We’ll deal with them,” she assured, her voice gentle but resolute. “But for now, let’s focus on her recovery. That’s the most important thing.”

Aegon nodded reluctantly, his protective gaze never leaving you. Meanwhile, Alicent brushed a strand of hair from your face, her affection clear. “You’re part of this family now,” she said softly. “And we’ll protect you. Always.”

The weight of their support, their love, filled the room, and for the first time in days, you allowed yourself to believe that you truly weren’t alone in this fight.

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