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oneforthemunny · 9 months

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stop, in the name of love |cop!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: based off my birth week writing challenge lol. I was just going to leave it for other authors, but I'm feeling self indulgent for now :)

requested: #20!!! With cop!eddie he’s trying to stop teens from hooking up but reader comes to the woods just for that reason!! please make him feel like a teen again 😭❤️❤️

thank you @ali-r3n for rbing my works so i could find this lol. you are an angel on this earth i love you <3

contains: 18+ MINORS DNI. cop!eddie, p in v sex, voyeurism, hopper catches them lol. fluff and good times with cop!eddie and his lil trouble maker.

Eddie huffed, arms crossed in the uncomfortable uniform, radar gun in his clenched fist. Hopper had stuck him out here- a punishment, no doubt, for the flop that was the D.A.R.E program he conducted at the middle school- leaving Eddie in the backwoods near Lover's Lake. After an influx of complaint calls about teenagers speeding through the area, and hooking up or drinking down by the waters or in the woods, Hopper decided to stick his best guy on the situation.

Eddie was furious.

Not only was it a slap in the face to be put on patrol of that area, usually only given to rookies, it was so fucking boring. He couldn't leave the area, contained to that spot for most of his shift, unless backup called. He couldn't drive around the city, taking all the nuisance calls, or even stopping by to see his friends and chat- stop by to see you. Oh no, here, he was quarantined to this small space.

The crunch of the gravel beside him had his ears perking, lifting the gun and sitting up in his seat, ready to bust a frisky teen. Instead, he saw the familiar, powder blue car pull up beside him- your car.

"Hi, there, Officer." You grinned, shutting the door to your car.

"Evenin' there, little lady." Eddie gave you a toothy grin, tone adapting to Wayne's southern-esqu drawl that always left you a little weak in the knees. He liked playing up the stereotypical cop, like Rosco in Dukes of Hazard, teasing and fun.

"Are you out here all alone tonight?" You asked tilting your head to the side. Eddie snorted, watching you push your upper body through his open window, upper half dangling inside the car. "No backup?"

"Not tonight." Eddie shook his head, giving you an exaggerated pout. "Just me out here by myself."

"Oh?" You quipped brow raising in surprise. "So no one out here to do this," You lunged at his utility belt, reaching for his baton, while Eddie's scrambled to halt your movements. Damn, you were quick.

"Easy, easy!" Eddie snapped, prying your hand off his baton. "What did I tell you about messing with my things, baby? Hopper's gonna kill me if he has to replace something else we've broken."

You giggled, folding your arms over the window. "'M just kidding." You hummed, batting your eyes up at him. "Just worried about you. Missed you."

"Missed you too, honey." Eddie's smile had you melting, an ooey-gooey feeling of warmth that was thick in your veins, leaving your head spinning. "I get off at eight."

"Yeah, but I got off at six." You pouted. "And that's so long to wait for you."

Eddie snorted, grinning and shaking his head. The curly tendrils, slipping out from his bun, sprung free, hitting his cheeks. Eddie reached for his aviators, revealing his brown eyes to you. "What're you up to, trouble?"

"Trouble?" You feigned hurt, an exaggerated gasp leaving your lungs. "I would never, Officer, I'm a well behaved, law abiding citizen."

Eddie laughed, loudly, making you smile. "Yeah, right." He scoffed at you. "What'd you come here for? To show your appreciation for all my hard work?"

Your lips twisted in thought. "Yeah, kinda." You nodded. "Came here to fuck you."

Eddie snorted, shaking his head at your bluntness. "I'm on the clock, baby."

"That's never stopped you, baby." You mocked him with a slight glare. "Please? You've been working the second shift all week. I barely get to see you."

Eddie pressed his lips together in thought, eyes flickering from the road back to you. You pressed your bottom lip out further. "Please? Just quick, I promise."

Eddie huffed, moving to pull the keys from the patrol car, that was the last thing he needed stolen. "Fine, but just really quick, alright." He pointed a finger at you. "I don't have long. Go around back."

You practically skipped to the back of the cop car, hidden behind the tall lights and the trees, nestled away from the road.

"Place your hands on the hood of the car." Eddie boomed, loud and authoritative, a tone he only used when arresting someone. You knew he was teasing, but fuck, did it make you throb.

You laid your hands flat over the trunk of the car, pressing your upper half forward. Eddie drooled, eyes trained on the little sundress you had on, catching in your cheeks as you moved. God, how he wanted to drop to his knees and devour you. He missed your taste so much, but not now wasn't the time. No, he'd contain himself for now and indulge later tonight.

Eddie bunched the material of your dress in his hands, shimmying it up your frame. He grinned wolfishly down at you, white knuckled grip on the material. "No panties?" He asked, tone lilting in teasing surprise.

"No, sir." You hummed, craning your neck so you could look over your shoulder at him. "I knew you'd want them off anyways." Your eyes batted at him.

"Bad girl." Eddie smirked, tongue rolling across his bottom lip. "Very, bad." He rasped to himself, eyes glued on your puffy lips, slick and peeking out from between your thighs.

Eddie gripped your cheeks, lifting them so he could reveal your pussy to him, the wet click! sound that your lips made when he pulled them apart made his abs clench, knees shaking.

"Spread 'em, baby." Eddie barked, a little raspier than he would someone he was really arresting, but he settled his black boots between your feet, pushing them so they slid open wider.

You whined, shuffling your feet apart with his, pressing yourself further into the hood of the car. Your ass was out, presented to him, drooling pussy and bare skin all for his taking. Eddie swallowed hard.

"You gotta be quiet, alright?" Eddie smirked, unzipping himself. He'd have to make this work, needed to be able to respond quickly if need be. "Can't get me caught when I'm supposed to be catching teenagers hooking up out here. How bad would that be?" Eddie chuckled, freeing his cock and pulling it through his zipper.

You giggled, airy and light, eyes already glossed with lust. Your hips wiggled in anticipation. "'M ready, Mr. Officer." You purred, feeling the tip of his fat head rub through your folds.

Eddie pushed into you, tight from the lack of foreplay. Normally, he'd work you open with his fingers, get you relaxed with a couple of orgasms before trying to fit himself in.

You groaned at the stretch, burning but your velvety walls clamped down on him, nonetheless. You groaned, low in your chest, vibrations rattling through you and onto the cop car. Eddie let out a straggled breath, hips flush to your ass, grinding into the fatty flesh there the way you liked.

Eddie pulled back, thrusting into you, deep and filling, leaving your eyes rolling back. "Oh!" You cried out, a straggled gasp leaving your lips.

Eddie started to move, long and slow thrusts that had you crying out. He pulled you up, hand cupping your jaw and moving you so your back was to his chest, his big hand covering your mouth. "Shh, baby, gotta-fuck- be quiet." Eddie hissed in your ear.

Your eyes rolled back, his head jabbing a spot deep inside of you at the new angle, a spot that was making you drench with every stroke, knees shaking. You moaned and whimpered against his hand, feeling his hot breath ghosting over your jaw and cheek, tiny grunts and huffs in your ear. You loved it when he'd moan so you could hear. You'd record it and play it on a loop if you could, hearing his tiny whines when he was close, breath hitching and catching, and his pitch rising.

"Fuck, baby, I-I'm close." Eddie grunted, jaw clenched as he tried to control himself. He was a little embarrassed to admit how easily he was coming undone, but fuck, it had been a while. And your pussy was enticing, felt like heaven with every clench of your wet walls strangling his cock.

You moaned against his hands, Eddie feeling you get a little heavier against him, slipping down him. He knew you were close. Using his free hand, Eddie slid his hand down your hip, snaking down between your legs, using two fingers to rub at your clit.

You cried out, still loud even with his hand muffling the sound, knees wobbling and locking a little, before you came, hard and unforgiving over Eddie's cock. You felt yourself fall against the truck of the car, the cool metal exterior pressing to your cheek, while Eddie jackhammered into you from behind chasing out his own high.

Eddie was so close, he could taste it. Abs clenched, toes curling, eyes rolling back, his cock punching your womb deeply, cock twitching deep inside you; so close.

The wail of a siren had him stopping, eyes snapping open and blurred vision clearing. He looked around seeing the familiar lights shine red and blue, jarring and unmistakable, while Hopper's car slowly crunched over the gravel.

"Shit, shit, shit, shit." Eddie was out of you in a second, scrambling to shove his cock back in his pants, turning away so he could try and pull himself together, with fumbling shaking hands.

You had pulled down your dress, hand smoothing over the mussed back of your head, while you stood rigidly to face Hopper.

"Well," Hopper sighed heavily, slamming the door to his car. "Guess I know why there's still a problem out here." He frowned at Eddie.

Eddie swallowed hard, brown eyes wide and alert, a deer caught in headlights. "Turns out my officer I sent to patrol is the horny bastard who keeps hooking up out here."

"Hop, I-"

"Save it, Munson." Hopper held up his hand, shaking his head. "I got a call about a disturbance down by Skull Rock, dispatch tried to get you and no response. Thought something had happened, so I came to check it out, and..." Hopper's eyes flashed from you to Eddie, before frowning deeply in disapproval. "I see now that you were busy."

You cringed, looking at Hopper with a round eyed, pleading look. "It really was my fault. I-I came here and-"

"I really don't need the details of that, thank you." Hopper said sarcastically, cutting you off with an eye roll.

"Munson, finish out your shift, then tomorrow, my office. First thing." Hopper barked, glaring at him.

"Alright, Hopper." Eddie grumbled, shoulders deflating at the threat.

Hopper scoffed, pulling his door open. "And you two stop fucking outdoors, alright? That's still against the law, and you should know better." He pointed at Eddie, thick brows furrowed and mean.

You watched Hopper drive away, nervously turning to Eddie. "Well, this is fucking great." Eddie scoffed. "I'm going to get written up and have to do fuckin' cross walk duty for a week, and I have blue balls still." He growled, hands motioning down towards his crotch.

You bit back a giggle, tucking your chin to hide your smile. Eddie's eyes flashed at your dangerously, dark and playful. "You think this is funny, huh? This is your fault, you little minx." He growled, teeth barring at you.

"I'm sorry, really." You smirked at him. "I was just trying to help you out."

"Yeah? Well, just you wait baby." Eddie pointed a finger at you, stepping closer to close in the space between the two of you. His eyes were dark, still lust blown from earlier, a little meaning when they peered at you down the slop of his nose. "You're in for it when I get home."

You giggled with excitement, his arms wrapping around you, teeth nipping at your bottom lip in a playful bite that had you squealing. A car whizzed by, blaring loud music and heading towards the lake. The teenagers from the complaint, no doubt.

Eddie sighed, resting his forehead against yours for a moment. "Duty calls, Officer." You grinned cheekily.

"Yeah, can't wait." Eddie huffed, heavy boots stomping towards the car. "See you when I get home?"

You nodded. "I'll be waiting on you." You batted your eyes up at him.

Eddie grinned. "Good. Get ready for me. Wear that little lacy thing I like, alright?" He winked at you, ducking back into the patrol car. "Stay outta trouble until then, you hear?" He threw out at you playfully.

You laughed, opening your own car door. "I'll try. No promises." You jested, shrugging with a wide grin.

Eddie smirked, flicking on his lights and peeling out towards the lake. You watched him drive away, legs still a little shaky from before, pressing together at the thought of what awaited when he got home.

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endless-ineffabilities · 1 year

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Maroon (part three)

modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

You were standin' hollow-eyed in the hallway Carnations you had thought were roses, that's us

A series loosely based on the song Maroon of off Midnights by Taylor Swift ▪︎ read more Daemon & Aemond midnights imagines here: masterlist

series list: part one - part two - part three - part four -

themes/warnings: angst!, mutual pining, jealous!Aemond, language, description of accident/injury, Aemond in his stalker era

word count: 8.7k

a/n: proposed ages of the characters in this series - Viserys (64), Daemon (55), Alicent (53), Rhaenyra (44), Aemond (26), Helaena (25), Daeron (22), Aegon (30), Lucerys (22), Jacaerys (25), Joffrey (15), Alys (35) ---- as much as I'd like to pretend this took 5 minutes... heh. The Math simply wasn't Mathing for a long while. Anywho, just thought I'd write this in since I've aged up the characters.

Also - with all the time I've spent on this fic, I've decided to ultimately restructure part three. So part four will cover the night of the Dragonstone ball, where it's all about to go down.

Everything that occurs leading up to the Dragonstone ball - the outcome of the accident, Aemond struggling with his current state, and the reader left hoping for a love, that perhaps, never truly was.

Lucerys Velaryon has already garnered quite the reputation, at only 22 years old.

A darling of the masses, everyone loved the young heir to Driftmark, a great company built by his grandfather, the notorious shipping tycoon, Corlys Velaryon.

But having the name Velaryon is a double-edged sword for Luke.

It only increases his privilege and prestige, already being a Targaryen on his mother’s side. Luke is set for life; he has everything he could ever need at his disposal. As a young boy, he has always enjoyed cars. Tinkering with them under the guidance of his father Laenor, as well as his uncle Daemon. Luke got himself into kart racing at the age of 9. Illegal street racing, much to his mother’s disappointment, at the age of 14. And just recently, he has been competing in Formula 2 division racing.

From the outside, he is just like any other boy. Apart from the fact that his family is literally worth billions, that is.

But Luke has never been content. He has never been self-assured, borne out of the truth, one that everyone simply chooses not to mention, that Laenor Velaryon is not his true father. That he is a bastard, and therefore, not the rightful heir to Driftmark. He has always known this, despite his mother’s pleas otherwise. He knows this each time he hears the employees of Driftmark whisper amongst themselves after he passes by. Whenever he is invited to sit in the council meeting of the company, he feels his true status in how the shareholders disregard his opinions like he’s just some intern.

He grew up amidst the tension between himself and his brothers, and their young uncles, especially Aemond. When Aemond and Lucerys were growing up together, they simply did not learn to exist well around one another. Luke had bullied his young uncle long ago - an act of rebellion, of a boy growing up with resentment in his bones - when Aemond had been weak and scrawny as a child. Aemond retaliated in kind; but he finally matured and found some inner calm in his mid-twenties. A year or two before you met him.

Luke's uneasiness has only worsened, now that he is nearly set to take his place on Driftmark. Since his family hails from Valyria, everyone expects them to uphold the tradition of only passing down inheritance to rightful heirs. Never bastard children or outliers.

But what the hell. Luke has never been one to follow the rules. His very existence does not abide by them, so why should he?

The night of the accident, Luke had to sit in yet another board meeting for the company. This time, Aemond was there too. Only he was treated as he should, being a Targaryen. Like someone capable, someone worthy.

It should not have made any difference, really. Luke thought he was used to it all by now - the stares, the hushed whispers, the poorly masked scorn. They think Aegon or Aemond to be more competent. If the board had their way, it would not be Luke who would inherit Driftmark. Perhaps, his grandfather’s brother, Vaemond. Or hell, even his cousins Baela and Rhaena, though they never expressed any interest in the business.

Anyone but Luke.

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

As a child, Aemond Targaryen saw himself as some kind of a ghost. A spectre simply moving around his family, their company, their horde of sycophants. Not the first to be considered. Not the designated heir to anything. The second son of the owner and chief executive of Dragonstone, and his much younger, barely beloved second wife.

Once upon a time, his father Viserys had been well and truly happy.

He was married to the love of his life, Aemma, and they had a lovely daughter who was loved by all due to her charm and fiery nature.

When Aemma passed in childbirth, Viserys had been near inconsolable. But he could not remain so for very long. Soon enough, his board of trustees, his advisors, urged him to remarry. He did not have an heir yet after all, and as per tradition, he soon needed to have a son so that he might raise him to become the next CEO and owner of their business empire.

But Viserys decided to essentially bypass such tradition, for less than a year after his wife’s passing, he had publicly announced his only daughter as his successor. It did not matter what the board of trustees or the shareholders preferred. They may have considerable sway over the affairs of the company, but in the end, the word of Viserys prevails.

And so Aemond and his three siblings have been pushed to the periphery. Not that they ever stood a chance anyway. In the end, their father will always uphold his precious Rhaenyra over them. Their mother plays the part of a mere trophy wife, though she is a noble Hightower herself, having to feign contentment in spite of all the times she and her children are slighted.

Aemond thought himself calmer now, and matured. Painstakingly made every effort to be far from that weak boy who had no place anywhere. He is still unsure if he likes the person that he is, and perhaps he never has. But he morphed - or masked - this self-loathing into an unfailing desire to do better, to be better. He’s always wanted more. And he has learned to be strong for his mother, his sister. Himself.

And now, you. How unpredictable you had been, bursting into his life like the Dornish comet of ‘07. He knew early on that you liked him, sort of, with how your eyes would dart back and forth to his direction whenever he’s in the room.

It made him uneasy, at first, when his looks developed in such a way that garnered him plenty of attention. The spectre of the city turned ‘Prince of the city’, a strapping young man who can have anyone he wishes.

But, funnily enough, all those socialites, models, glorified urban princesses with millionaire parents, Aegon’s harem of traditionally near-perfect friends from Lys that he often offers - none of them ever stood a chance to you, his sister Helaena’s earnest, gentle, and quick-witted best friend.

Aemond would be lying if he said he fell for you immediately. It would be far from his nature to do such a thing. But he had, slowly, found himself enveloped in your light, and only feeling warm, only feeling home - only feeling like he could truly love himself - when you look at him with those soul-piercing eyes of yours. Maybe he isn’t so bad after all, if you can see him in the way you do. And he trusts your judgement; when you profess to want him in turn, then he must be worth more than he thinks.

But the night of the accident, his forsaken shadow seemed to envelop him like an old friend. One that he can never shake. His anger, his darkness. He had long buried the Aemond Targaryen who frequently got into fistfights. The Aemond who deliberately ordered the expulsion of certain people he simply did not like from the employ of their company. The Aemond who chose to openly mock the truth of his raven-haired cousins’ parentage.

That night, that Aemond resurfaced, and with dire consequences.

The night of the accident, four months before the Dragonstone ball

The storm had begun just before the board meeting ended. Heavy rain spattered against the Driftmark tower, with the night sky illuminated by streaks of lightning.

Aemond and Lucerys were coming to a head at the council table, and the other members were having to intervene at multiple points, just to mitigate the rising tension. The storm brewing inside the young men’s hearts could easily rival the one threatening to flood the streets.

Lucerys repeatedly interrupted Aemond’s suggestions, having grown tired of his own being cast aside by everyone else.

“Wait for your turn to speak, my Strong nephew.” Aemond smoothly countered when he did not get to finish addressing Vaemond Velaryon.

“I didn’t think what you were saying was particularly important, uncle.” Luke retaliated in kind.

“Hmm. Some things never change, it seems. You still don’t know your place.”

“My place will soon be the highest seat of Driftmark. And you will still be grandfather’s second son, a mere placeholder at Dragonstone.”

“Please, sirs,” the meeting director complained. “We must get on with more urgent matters.”

Aemond and Luke barely contribute for the remaining minutes, opting to glare and sneer at each other from across the table.

But their council tiffs would not end up being the most unpleasant occurrence for that night. As if the storm also cast its darkness over their reasoning, they soon found themselves racing towards Gods Eye.

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

It was meant to be a game. A show of bravado. Two young men, though in their depths still wounded boys, found themselves spewing offenses in an attempt to lower the other.

“You might inherit Driftmark, but everyone knows the truth, plain as day. You will always be a bastard.”

“Sure, but I am still more than you. What have you ever truly accomplished, uncle? Poor y/n, if she’s fallen for your tricks. Does she know who you truly are? She’s too bloody good for you.”

When Luke raised the challenge of racing to the edge of the cliff of Gods Eye, Aemond grasped at the opportunity to humiliate his nephew. To prove all of his claims to be wrong.

It might have been either one of them, or both, who deigned to edge their car close to the other’s, trying to veer it off course. Just a little nudge to make it spin out of the road.

But the turbulent weather was strong, causing mud and water to pool along the gravel. When the cars collided, Aemond’s took the brunt of the hit. Before he could even register the impact, his car was already spinning right towards the treeline.

Luke had veered off road, his car rotating upside down. His right leg suffered from multiple fractures, including a busted knee cap.

But Aemond…

His screams resounded despite the ceaseless pattering of rain, louder than even the roaring thunder overhead. A shard of glass had been wedged deep on one side of his face, splitting the flesh open.

So much blood had pooled into his one remaining eye, that he feared he went entirely blind. The memory of your face flashed across his mind, and he despaired at the thought of never being able to see you again.

Later in the operating room, when the full extent of his injuries was delineated to him, Aemond thought that perhaps, it is you who would never want to see him again.

Why would you, with what has now become of his appearance?

Two months before the Dragonstone ball

You’re finding it hard not to keep tabs on Aemond, still asking Helaena every now and then if he’s really alright. To which she always responds with some version of “He’s okay. He just needs some time.”

Time. That’s fine. You suppose that the accident must have shaken him up, enough to cause him to go into hiding and to avoid everyone.

Unfortunately… painfully, including you.

You find your mind drifting back to him every day - during your lectures, at work, at home, whenever you’re spending time with Helaena and you’re trying so hard to simply not just pester her about her brother.

You think back to those secret moments you shared in crowded rooms, up in their penthouse, whenever Aegon would throw a party. Back then, you did not know one another yet, not really. But he would sit on the couch adjacent to yours, shoot you a smile, and silently keep you company while you wait for Helaena to return. He did so because he could sense that you were anxious, and that loud gatherings aren’t really your thing, as he revealed to you when you were… dating. As short of a time as that might have been.

Gradually, you got to know him, in all those rare moments. His knowing, mischievous smiles. The subtitles nuances in his expression. His calculated manner of speaking.

You knew him, you had him, you lost him. Well, you do still know him - he is your friend, is he not? But it just as well could have been the end, the night of the accident. He has become a kind of spectre to you, leaving you yearning for what could have been.

Weekends offer some respite from the whole ordeal of having to miss him. Your job at the bookstore allows you to just sit in silence, entertain customers once in a while, and bury your nose in your book-of-the-week.

Once in a while, a friend even drops by. This time, Jace burst through the entryway, bell chiming in his wake, beaming with a brown takeaway bag in one hand.

“Hey, stranger,” you put down your novel, and leave your post on the counter to greet your dear friend with a tight hug. Jace takes note of the fact that your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, and his spirits sink. But he immediately gets to work on making you feel better.

“I’d say you’re going to love me for this, but you probably do already,” he says, presenting you with the paper bag.

“Don’t be so sure,” you jokingly say, narrowing your eyes at him, before peering inside, hit with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and pastries.

You shrug, starting to dig in with no hesitation. “Actually, good of you to be sure.”

He laughs as you drop the bag on the counter, and rip it open to reveal all the goods. He takes his own coffee and leans closer to have a bite of the profiterole you eagerly wave in front of his face.

“Thanks,” you manage to puff out, with a mouthful of pastry.

“Anytime, sweet.” Jace swallows, giving you a once over. “How are you holding up?”

It’s hard to act all nonchalant when he gives me those puppy-dog eyes. Jace’s innate sincerity almost makes you want to just cave in and vent all about Aemond. “Nice of you to be concerned, but it’s not like I was the one who got into an accident.”

“I know, sassy, but I also know that you and Aemond were… you have seen him recently, no?” he asks, sounding certain of the answer to his question, which downright confuses you.

“No,” you shake your head. “Along with the rest of the city, I haven’t seen nor heard anything from him.”

“Really?” he remarks, incredulous.

“Come on, Jace,” you take a comforting sip of coffee, still warm. “You know this. He doesn’t want to see me.”

“Huh,” his head tilts back slightly as he mulls over your response. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“I could’ve sworn that was his car parked across the street. Right outside.” he says, jutting his thumb over his shoulder. You freeze, but your eyes are drawn straight toward the shop windows.

“That’s not - ,” That’s not possible, you want to say. But your feet already drag you to the edge of the shop, with Jace in tow. “Which one is his?” you ask, knowing Aemond’s got quite a few cars, privileged boy that he is. Your voice comes out in a hushed tone, as if you don’t want Aemond himself to hear. Ridiculous, you chide yourself, it probably isn’t even him.

“That silver Jaguar idling on the curb,” Jace answers, and you see it. Slantwise on the opposite side of the road, stopped right before the bus stop across the bookshop.

“Are you sure?”What the hell could he be here for? You didn’t want to admit it, but you feel the hope right in your bones. You want him here, of course. You want him to come see you.

“Yes,” Jace easily replies. “There’s only one vehicle in the city with that personalized plate."

Before you can stop yourself, you take a tentative step outside, hand still on the shop door.. I’m sure he can see me, if he’s really there.

The windows of the Jaguar have the darkest tint, making it nearly impossible to see inside.

“That’s him,” Jace says from behind you. “He doesn’t let anyone else drive his cars. I even thought he was already inside the shop when I arrived.”

“Well shit,” you breathe, your heart racing in your chest. “What do I do?”

“What is he doing?”

“Fuck it.” You only manage to take a step forward on the sidewalk before the car roars to life, engine purring smoothly. Aemond maneuvers the car from its spot and leaves, driving right past you, a cloud of leaves and dust billowing all around.

“What the fuck?” Jace scoffs, thoughtfully waving his arm around to keep the dust from your face. “What is he on?”

“Aemond,” his name escapes your lips in a soft whisper. A silent plea that will never reach him, but you say it all the same. That it doesn’t matter to you, whatever state he is in after the accident. That even though he chose Alys over you, you can understand, or at least try to. He is still the same boy who captured your heart not so long ago.

But why did he just leave? What is he so scared of?

“Come on,” Jace says, holding the door open for you. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

When you go past the entryway, you turn on your heel and hang up the ‘On a break. Come back soon’ sign on the door. Sighing heavily, you shrug at Jace, “What a day, huh. You sure know how to bring drama with you.”

Jace only smiles, well-used to your banter, “How is this my fault?”

“I dunno,” you raise your hands, and walk back to the counter. You’re not sure how you feel at the moment - anxious, worried, disappointed? It’s all up in a haze since Aemond suspiciously drove off, and so, you can’t control the flood of dry sarcasm spilling out of you. Like some kind of coping mechanism. “You must have called Aemond here, so you two can drive my poor heart into a frenzy. Like I don’t already have a lot on my plate.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Jace slowly nods, playing along. “Aemond hasn’t even spoken to me since everything went down. But I definitely sought him out today, and definitely forced him to watch you from out there in his car like some obsessed creep.”

“I knew it!”

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

Fifteen minutes into your impromptu break, the tone has lightened to some degree, and you sit at a corner table with Jace, sipping the remains of your coffee.

After a lot more banter, and catching up about Luke, Joff, and the rest of his family - those who can still tolerate your presence,that is - Jace finds you staring blankly at a bookshelf. “Hey,” he says, “I don’t think my uncle is hiding in between those books.”

“Ha-ha.”

“Anyway, enough about him, eh?” Jace offers, taking your hand from across the table. “I actually wanted to ask you something.”

You squeeze his hand in return, staring back into his doe brown eyes, “Yeah?”

“Seeing as Aemond isn’t taking you to the Dragonstone ball,” he pauses, gauging your reaction. He decides that it’s all good when you remain impassive, “How would you like to come with me instead? I did mean to ask you, you know, but dear uncle beat me to it.”

“Oh.” Your hand loosens around his a bit, as you take in his words. “Well, I mean I would love to but - ”

Jace adds quickly, as if he is already reading the thoughts whirring through your mind. “No pretenses about it, I assure you. I’m not expecting anything else. Just that you honour me by being my partner to the ball.”

“Mmm,” your shoulders relax, and you find yourself smiling at Jace’s heartfelt nature. One that immediately warmed you to him when you first met. “Partners, huh?”

His tongue makes a clicking sound in confirmation. “What do you say?”

“Jace,” you start, weighing the options in your mind. “I would go with you, of course - ”

“That settles it then.”

“- but I just… I don’t know, if… Aemond does not want to see me, maybe I shouldn’t just show up at the ball?”

Jace rolls his eyes, “He doesn’t own the bloody ball, you know. He can’t control whether you come or not.” He leans in, voice lowering like he’s sharing a devious ploy, “Besides, if he doesn’t want to see you, then why would he be loitering across the street simply to watch you through the shop windows? Let’s be real now, eh?”

Fair point. You reply, “Far be it from me to know what he’s up to.”

“So come to the ball with me and ask him yourself. I’ll even back you up. With my own pitchfork and everything.” The way his eyes blaze in excitement sparks something in you. Being around Jace is always fun, like you’re free to do anything - you could even cause any kind of trouble and he would only be cheering you on.

If only… if only you liked him the way you do a certain someone, then you might actually have a greater sense of calm. Your self-doubt might be assuaged, your days brighter.

But no. It is Aemond who fills your wandering thoughts. Aemond who haunts your sleepless nights. It was him who nearly made your heart stop that night on their rooftop, who laughed with you and held you close when you were a fumbling, wine-stained mess.

Perhaps unfortunately so… it is Aemond whom you love.

That realization makes you straighten in your seat, scaring some sense back into you. Fuck, what am I even thinking? It’s Jace right in front of me. Jace who is asking me to the ball.

“You got yourself a deal, mister,” you playfully hold your hand out for him to shake.

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

Later that night, the Targaryen penthouse in the Crownlands Tower is relatively quiet. Most of the family is away, save for Helaena, their housekeeper Talia…

… and Aemond, who sits in front of his desk, staring at the object atop it which is aglow under lamplight. His eye drifts to the metal surface of the lampshade itself, and he sees it. A scar stretched from his forehead to his cheekbone, with its edges tinged with maroon.

Revolting. It’ll take some time to heal, they all say. Well it’s been two long fucking months, and it doesn’t feel any better. Nothing feels right.

It isn’t fair, his mother wailed upon seeing him. None of this is. It was the rogue Lucerys’ fault, she insisted, for egging Aemond to go on a damned speed chase in the middle of fucking storm.

His father Viserys merely appraised him for a long moment, before mumbling something that sounded like, “I am sorry this happened, but you’ll be alright”. Then to his mother, “Lucerys is injured as well. This is what they’ve always done, as you know. Luke and Aemond don’t really get along but they’re grown now.”

He added with a warning gaze to Aemond, “They have to learn to be civil to one another. We are all family, after all.”

“Family,” Alicent spat the word like a curse. “Family should not be the cause of grievous harm.”

Aemond remembers the shrug that Viserys did. It is a gesture he has seen endlessly, it might even be the first thing he remembers of his father. All of his pains, and his achievements will always be met with a nonchalant gesture. Some father he is.

There’s only one thing that would make Aemond feel better in this moment, and even that, he cannot allow himself to have. He shall not present himself, this self, to you. He looks at his reflection and he hates what he sees. Perhaps he always has. But he also learned to love himself around you. How easy it can be, like second nature.

Maybe he was drawn to the fact that you are not from his world, with all its intrigue and playacting. How you choose not to perceive status as a tool, and how you can be kind to anyone. You, the girl who always keeps a book in her bag, even at parties, even if she most likely won’t have time to read it. Just in case, you had said, you never know. You, though very well-mannered, called one of Helaena’s so-called friends a “spoiled cunt”, when you heard her making nasty jokes at Helaena’s expense behind her back.

“Sorry you had to hear that,” you had said to Aemond in a grumbling tone, still quite irate, when you found out that he was just in the library adjacent to their living room. “They were just being so… so…”

“Fucking rude?” he finished your thought, his dimples showing in amusement when your eyes widened. “Don’t worry, doll. Maybe I would have done the same. Though that Beatrice would never say shit about Helaena in front of me, seeing as she tried to claw off my jacket once. Her fake nail got caught in the leather. Her attempt at seduction, I suppose.”

Your mouth fell open, then closed once more. You were at a loss. Your blood was just boiling at having to confront Beatrice, who has thankfully left the penthouse, and now Aemond is standing in front of you. Aemond, sharing some story, in good humour. About some girl trying to get with him, and failing. Later on, you will find yourself jumping in frustration in your living room, thinking how in the hell your mind must have short-circuited because you responded with, “It’s a good thing I keep my fingernails trimmed and plain then.”

It was Aemond's turn to stand there, lips parted in surprise at your sudden show of audacity. Where has this girl been hiding all this time? Or has she always been this way? Then your face morphs into one of shock, and you remain still, waiting for some other pin to drop. Something to distract Aemond so you can mumble some excuse and run away. Aemond observes the minute changes in your expression, like you’re struggling to get your bearings, and he finds it all endearing.

Suddenly, the door you had been leaning against is pried open, making you take a step closer to Aemond. An unruly, blonde mop of hair that can only belong to Aegon pokes itself inside, “What are you nerds doing in the damn library?”, then he turns on his heel letting the door slowly close on its hinges, “Never mind, I’m gonna get a drink!”

At the exact same time, you and Aemond burst out in a fit of laughter, the pure and melodic sound of it echoing throughout the room. The very first time that Aemond witnessed you laughing freely in front of him, and his thoughts would later drift back to this moment. To the way your eyes lit up, how your teeth clamped down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing harder, and how your dainty hand clasped his forearm, holding on to him for a while.

He did not know then, not yet at least, that he had started falling for you.

When your desire had become apparent, you did not attempt to cross a line. Correctly inferring that Aemond valued his solitude, you became content with admiring him from afar, treasuring every small interaction.

Everyone keeps remarking at how different he is around you, and maybe you do not realize the truth of their claims, because you had never seen him… like this. So broken. His mask of composure torn to shreds.

No longer the caring, attentive, and self-assured Aemond you claimed to desire.

“Aemond?” Helaena's voice drifts from his door, which is opened narrowly. She silently lets herself inside when he does not respond.

“Care for some dinner?” she asks, her gentle voice almost breaking through Aemond’s resolve. Perhaps it might have been able to, but not anymore.

“No, I’m not hungry.” Aemond answers, barely audible.

“Right.” Helaena doesn’t press further; she knows that nothing will shake her brother while he’s in such a state, so she tries to bring up something else. Something that might get his attention. “So, I, uh… y/n just called me.”

Helaena notices Aemond slightly tense up at the mention of your name. So that’s what it takes, she thinks.

“Aemond,” she steps closer, now standing beside his chair. “Why were you outside the bookstore where she works?”

Aemond shuts his eyes. Of course you had seen him. And he saw you, clear as day. Beautiful as ever. With bloody Jace right next to you, laughing while sharing some coffee he had brought.

“She misses you, you know,” Helaena says, and the words drive straight through Aemond’s heart. “I really think you just should speak to her.”

“Hmm.”

“What are you even afraid of?”

A long pause, as Helaena waits for a reply. Fidgeting with the edge of her sweater, she begins to say something more, when Aemond finally says, in a muffled, reluctant tone, “She deserves better.”

“Of course she does!” Helaena perches on the edge of Aemond’s desk, and his eye drifts over her for just a second, before looking down at the object again. “So call her and - ”

“Better than me.” Aemond clarifies, croaking the final word as if in pain.

“Oh, Aemond.” Helaena’s lifts an arm in an attempt to offer comfort, but Aemond instinctively flinches.

“No.” He breathes. “I can’t.”

Helaena nods in understanding, though her heart aches at the sight of her brother like this. She looks to the side, and sees the journal-seeming object sitting on his brother’s desk. The thing he seems to be staring at.

Helaena lets her fingers run over the smooth forest green cover, and she instantly recognizes it to be Valyrian leather. A rare commodity, so this must not be just any ordinary journal.

“May I?” she whispers, to which her brother shrugs in response.

She gently pries open the leather clasp, and she sees a dedication on the first page, in a swooping scrawl that can only be Aemond’s. Some special ink was used, staining the page with a deep shade of maroon. It reads in High Valyrian, their native language - Ñuha prūmia iksis aōhon.

“I meant to give that to her… before…”

My heart is yours.

“Aemond-” Helaena mutters, her mind stuck on the words, and she knows exactly who they are meant for.

Aemond abruptly rises from his seat, and puts on his black coat, “Just put that back where you found it.” Reaching for something else on his desk, he puts it on his face to conceal his deformity.

Before her brother reaches the door, Helaena manages to voice out, “Where are you going?”

“Away.”

Two weeks before the Dragonstone ball

The accident finally seems to have departed from the mainstream, turning into fodder for small talk as all sensational news pieces do.

Unsurprisingly, despite the tragic event, excitement abounds. The city is buzzing in anticipation. Everyone is already poring over the main list of attendees which has been made public online. You only glanced at it once to confirm that you are on the list as Jace’s partner, but something else catches your attention. You immediately close the tab in your browser after you read - Aemond Targaryen - and across from his name, as his designated partner - Alys Rivers.

“For fuck’s sake,” you sigh, biting your lip. You opt to open Youtube, but immediately your homepage reminds you of your recent activities. Not stalking, no. Just some curious research. Aemond has never been one to give interviews. That’s more in Aegon’s wheelhouse. Daeron especially, since he also works as a model, gracing the front cover of Vogue thrice already at only 22.

When Aegon graces the headlines, it’s most likely due to some disorderly conduct at a high-class party or a local dive bar. True to his brand, there is no in-between when it comes to Aegon. It’s either go big or go home. Which usually means he ends up drunk on the sidewalk, having to call Aemond to pick him up and give him a ride without letting their parents know.

But they always find out, of course. It’s hard to be discreet when you’re one of the most recognizable faces in the country.

As for Aemond, you’ve always found it hard to find even a single crumb of him from the internet. Save for a couple of sightings, including those of him and Alys Rivers, and clippings from the few times when he would speak in press conferences on behalf of Dragonstone. But even those were kept mostly private, and not freely available on Youtube.

As it happens, there have been some rumours of Aemond allegedly coming into blows with the Duke of Lannister and his entourage, after humiliating the man’s sister. Onlookers claimed that they saw the poor girl coming onto Aemond at some party in Pentos, flirting with him. Apparently, he was far from welcoming of her affections. There were some pictures of the fight, or at least, that’s what people say. You were not in the loop when the news spread, sitting through a lecture. Any trace of such pictures quickly vanished from the internet. The Targaryens are always on the lookout to protect their precious image, but they’ve never done anything so methodical when it comes to such occurrences, such as Aegon’s countless mishaps.

Aemond does have an Instagram profile. You asked him about it once, ages ago, even before your brief - what would you call it… Tryst? Dating period? Well, whatever it was, it’s all done for now.

“Was it your idea to have a profile anyway?” you asked him, after he had playfully teased you about stalking him. That was the only verified account of Aemond’s that you found, complete with the blue tick. His profile was empty, and the following list was at a whopping zero. Though of course, he had about 3.7 million followers, just waiting for the moment that he would choose to do anything on the site.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Aemond looked down and smiled, and you did not know it, but he found himself feeling warm due to the interest you were giving him. He’s confident about nearly everything, but when on the receiving end of attention from the woman he secretly longed for, he felt almost shy. “It was mostly due to the fact that I wanted to have one sole verified account online. I’ve heard talks of impersonators sending people messages and all that. Fucking annoying.”

“Ah, yeah.” You did not tell him, of course, but you knew of those fake accounts, having clicked on several slightly convincing ones to see if they were actually his. But none of them matched. You found yourself muttering, “He would never post that.”

“Didn’t hurt that I got to look through your pictures, too, love.” He smirked then, regaining his confidence.

You nearly melted into a puddle on the fancy designer-carpeted floors of their apartment, right then and there.

That doesn’t matter now. You sigh, slamming your laptop shut. Instead you choose to dramatically jump onto your bed and growl your frustrations out onto a pillow.

You roll over, amused at the whole thing. The digital alarm clock Helaena gave you reads 6:32 pm, it’s a Friday night, and you’re left with nothing to do. You’ve already finished the majority of your exams, and for the next month or two, you’re free to go on holiday and do whatever you wish.

But what? You finally decide to give Helaena a call, and reach for your phone on the nightstand. But right then, it lights up. ‘Hel’s Bells’ is calling you. An inside joke the two of you came up with about a week after you met.

“Speak of the devil,” you smile, and press accept. “Hel! I hope you’re just about as bored as I am.”

She laughs on the other end, “I don’t even have time to be bored. Mother has us doing all these preparations for the ball.”

“Do you need any help? I’m no expert at pomp and pageantry but I’ll do my best.” She had just stayed at your apartment a few nights ago for a sleepover, and you noticed that she was careful when mentioning anything about the ball. Trying not to stray into Aemond and Alys territory for your sake, you assumed.

“Sure, come over whenever you want. I don’t really have any idea what it’s all for, but hey, at least we get to put on fancy dresses and look pretty.”

“Oh, you always look pretty,” you say sincerely.

“Thank you, doll,” she says, before sighing dramatically. “Anyway, I actually called to tell you something. You’re going to come over to our place on Sunday night. We’re throwing a little party.”

“A party, huh.” Will Aemond be there, you wanted to ask, but held back.

You haven’t seen him for the last three months, after the fateful night of the accident. There was that incident when he parked outside the bookstore, but it was barely anything.

Word on the street is that the ‘Prince of the city’ had gone into hiding, as comical as that sounds to you. For what exactly? There has been speculation - perhaps he was left horribly disfigured from the accident, which is also why there isn’t any trace of the alleged pictures taken of him in Pentos. But Helaena immediately dissuaded that notion. My brother is not disfigured, she insisted when you brought it up, he’s simply recovering.

If Aemond wants to keep things to himself, then he has the right to do so. He would tell you if he wanted. Call you, send you a message. Anything.

“A party,” Helaena repeats. “It’ll be for our inner circle. Which includes you, of course. A little prequel to the ball, so everyone can catch up with each other.”

“Aegon’s idea?” you guessed with a wry smile.

“There might be a direct correlation there, yeah,” Helaena laughs. “Anyway, come over! Since you’re coming with Jace to the ball, then we have to plan everything for you, too! What colour dress do you want to wear? Well, there is a theme but we’ll work with that. Mum assigned a stylist and hairdresser for me, which means they’re for you too and - ”

“Hel, I don’t really need - ”

Then she says something that puts a stop to your protest. “Oh, Aemond won’t know what’ll hit him.”

“Huh.” The thought of seeing Aemond again gives you a surge of excitement. And nervousness. Your yearning for him reawakens, but it never truly left.

Having made her point, Helaena knows she’s got you hook, line and sinker. “I’ll expect you in the next hour.”

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

Sunday came rolling over soon enough, and the party at the Targaryen penthouse is well under way.

The ballroom on the 2nd floor is packed, filled with people whom you either don’t know or barely recognize. Of course, it wouldn’t be complete without some snooty heirs and heiresses who would openly regard you with what could be confusion or derision. Until a Targaryen or Velaryon would approach you and eagerly whisk you away in conversation.

“Who is she?” you hear someone say when Jace takes your hand and directs you to sit on the couch with him and Daeron. “Why is Jace so close to her? And what on earth is she wearing?”

Unfazed by it all, and already used to such comments, you smile sweetly in that girl’s direction and greet her with a friendly, “Hi, how are you doing?”, without giving her a chance to respond.

Jace watches the exchange proudly. As you sit down, he says, “Aegon invited her, I think. I don’t really know, I don’t like her much.”

“How come?” you jest. “You two have so much in common. Heirs to the kingdom and all that.” Your sarcasm again comes out of you in waves, trying to temper your nerves. You look around the room, though it is not the first time you’ve scanned through everything.

“I’d much prefer your company,” Jace easily says, then notices your divided attention. “He isn’t here.”

In a transparent attempt at surprise, you ask,“Who?”

Daeron overhears the exchange, after his friend stands up to get a drink. “Aemond’s not here, y/n. At least I haven’t seen him. Last I heard he was holed up in our holiday estate in Pentos.”

“Oh.” Your face visibly falls. You didn’t know what to expect, really. Of course Aemond would not just show up at this party after avoiding everyone for too long.

“He will be at the Dragonstone ball though,” Daeron pats your knee in sympathy. “He might be going through some shit, but mum would lynch him if he misses that event.”

Jace and Daeron continue to look at you, seeing if they need to offer more comfort, and you can’t stand it. “Alright, you two. Thanks for… I don’t know… but this is a party! We should just go and have fun. No need to be concerned about me and…” You choke up at his name, negating your false show of indifference.

“Okay,” Jace says, saving you from saying anything further. “How about I get you a drink, hmm?”

“Yeah,” you say, but something crosses your mind. You stand at the same time as Jace, grabbing his arm, “Actually, I’ll go get some air first.”

“Are you alright?” This time, Jace’s sincere gaze is not enough to distract you from that familiar gnawing ache.

“I am,” you smile placatingly. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

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

Aemond Targaryen, contrary to what everyone in the party believes, is no longer wasting his days in Pentos.

He had slipped back into the city earlier that night, and in the safety of their 7-floor penthouse. Right in time for the revelry. He has no intention of making an appearance, but when Helaena let it slip that you would be attending, he could not help himself.

The fact that you would be under the same roof was enough to get Aemond to scurry back home. While he might not be ready to show himself just yet, there are methods which allow him to see you. Watch you.

Helaena would probably smack him upside the head, if she found out. That not only had Aemond come back without telling her, but also that he is watching her friend through the CCTV cameras littered throughout the penthouse.

Perhaps it is unsavoury, and you might cross your arms and huff at him if you found out. Oh, what I would give to see that in person. But he’ll take what he can get. Do what he must. To still have you, still see you.

His left knuckle is taut, still bandaged and bruised from his recent activities. Luckily, the stitches on his face had not come loose and the medical treatment his mother is putting him through has done considerable wonders. What would you think, I wonder, if you saw me like this, my love.

His laptop is propped up on his desk, right next to the green journal he means to give you. On the screen, he watches as you trail Helaena for a while. As you sit alone, watching everything unfold. As Jace comes for you, and you sit together on a couch. Too close. Too comfortable for Aemond’s liking. Is something going on between you and my fucking Strong nephew?

When news reached him that you would be coming to the ball with Jace, Aemond had broken something. He can barely remember what it was, just the sound of it shattering against the wall. A wine bottle? A vase? A mirror? Whatever it was sent his company fleeing from their table, and Criston had rushed forward to make sure that he wasn’t harmed.

Aemond glares at the screen you walk after Jace and whisper something close to his ear.

Jace regards you for a long while. He better not…

But then you nod and smile, stepping away from him. Aemond finds himself breathing a sigh of relief, predictably, and he almost snorts at his own reaction.

You walk out of the ballroom, and Aemond has to switch between cameras to follow your path. You pause down the hallway, and lean next to the wall.

What are you doing, ñuha jorrāelagon?

Seemingly decided on something, you swing the door to the staircase, forgoing the elevator. The cameras on each landing track you as you continue to climb upward, panting slightly when you finally reach the entrance to the rooftop.

You take slow, sure steps toward the golden railing. For a moment, you just stand there, seemingly watching the city below.

I have to see you. I have to try. In a split decision, Aemond slinkers out of his room, the party below still unaware of his presence.

Then he heads up the flight of stairs as you had done, feeling more apprehensive with each step. What do I even say to you? Do you still want to see me? He finally reaches the final landing, and heart in his throat, he pries the door open as silently as possible.

You no longer stand at the railing. Instead, he spies you sitting on the plush seat the two of you shared on that one night. Facing away from the entrance, looking up at the stars.

Aemond knows that isn’t as it was before. He cannot simply approach you and watch as your eyes immediately welcome the sight of him. It’s not the same, and it is all his fault. He wonders if your heart might still race because of him, or will it have become cold, after all this time?

He draws closer, with each footstep uncertain. But your pull is stronger, taking precedence over all of his worries.

“I miss you,” is all he can bring himself to say, throwing caution to the wind. You freeze at the sound of his voice.

Then a shiver runs up his spine as it dawns on him - in his haste to see you, he left his eyepatch in his room below.

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

I must be dreaming. The hairs along your arms stand in your shock, and you keep both hands flat on the seat to keep you steady.

Is it… You start to turn back, but cease all movement when Aemond pleads, “Don’t. Please don’t turn around.”

“Aemond?” your voice is shaky, and you feel a tear threaten to escape. “They said… we all thought…”

“They do not know that I am back yet,” he answers. “Just you.”

“Oh.” Your head is still turned to the side, and you have to fight the urge to simply rise from your seat and face him. You exhale, trying to calm down. When that doesn’t work, you lean back against the seat, and force yourself to count the windows on the building down the road.

6… 7… 8…

But the sudden feeling of his hands on your shoulders makes you lose all train of thought.

“Did you miss me?” Aemond asks, standing right behind your seat now, his sweater grazing the back of your head.

Your mind is flooded with thoughts of all that happened between the two of you - the beginning, the brief affair, the end. Is it the end?

Answer him. “Did I miss you?” you bite your lip, and your brows scrunch in frustration. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

Your expletive makes Aemond take a step back. “I-I’m sorry…”

“I’ve been so worried about you, Aemond!” Your hands bunch up into fists beside you. You did not realize you had all this pent up anger, with the past few months being spent pining. Longing. Yearning. Like some silly little fool. When he didn’t even make any effort to reach out to you, and the most you got from him was that episode outside the bookstore.

“Oh yeah, and what the hell were you doing outside my place of work?” you stand then, and lean against the railing in front of you, careful not to turn and catch a glimpse of him. “You wanted to speak to me? Well, why didn’t you just do that?” You can feel your erratic heartbeat pounding in your chest, and for a moment you become afraid that it might just stop altogether.

“I did want to speak to you. To see you.” Aemond sighs heavily. “I always want to see you, my darling. You’re all I’ve ever thought about since - ”

“Yeah, right. I bet you did.” You threw the offhand accusation over your shoulder.

“I did,” Aemond swears. “I miss you every day, I -”

His voice is softer than before, and kind of nervous. Your resolve is at risk of breaking, because… Why does Aemond sound… broken?

He finishes, “I just needed some time.”

There are so many more that you want to ask him - What really happened in that accident? Where have you been all this time? What is going on with you and Alys? Where do we truly stand?

But instead you mutter the one thing you are most certain of, “I miss you too.”

Aemond breathes a sigh of relief. He moves to stand behind you, and steps closer.

Closer. You don’t dare move a muscle, because you just might turn around and forget about his request. He moves closer, until his chest is pressed against you from behind. Closer, until his hands squeeze both of yours on the railing.

You feel Aemond rest his face on your shoulder, inhaling deeply. At this point, he is practically enveloping you. Each breath he takes warms your neck. His thumbs run over your knuckles, and he says, “Are you still angry at me?”

“Should I be?” You lean your head back to rest on his right shoulder. From the corner of your eye, he looks as he always has. Almost ethereal, with his silver-blonde Targaryen hair and sharp, defined features.

Aemond moves his head slightly toward the left, careful not to reveal the ruined side to you, when he feels your wandering gaze.

“Please don’t be angry with me,” he pleads. You hum in affirmation, and in a lower voice, he purrs, “Close your eyes, darling.”

You try to ask why, but then you feel his lips lightly press against the nook between your neck and your shoulders. Your eyes flutter shut on their own goddamn volition.

His mouth parts even more, before coming down once again and nipping at your skin. His arms wrap themselves around your waist, and his hold tightens until your entire body is flush against him.

Still, you haven’t seen all of him.

Your hand reaches up to touch him, and your fingertips graze the side of his face. When your thumb runs over a bit of what must be raised flesh, like some partially healed lesion, Aemond jumps away. At once, you feel the cool evening air hit you, the warmth of his embrace having gone.

“What is - ” you start to ask.

“It’s nothing.”

“Aemond…” you hesitate. What could possibly be so terrible, he won’t even allow me to look at him? “If anything happened to the way you look… it wouldn’t matter to me. You would still be the same boy that I lo - ” The words hitch in your throat, their sentiment heavier than anything you’ve ever said.

Everything is at a standstill. Aemond does not say a single word, but you know that he understood what you were trying to say. He must.

And how can I even gauge his reaction when I can’t even look at him?

“Aemond?”

Much to your surprise, his voice is already farther away when he responds with a hurried, “I’ll see you at the ball.”

You swiftly turn around in your disbelief. Did he just fucking leave?

The door to the penthouse shuts behind him, and you are left dumbfounded at his actions. The old Aemond would have never done that to you, but what do you know?

Perhaps my Aemond is truly gone.

The ball is coming up next!!! Reader may finally learn to let go of Aemond, or at least give him what he wants - a whole lot of space and time.

Also, reminder - Aemond's injury is still pretty fresh, considering the damage. So no, he hasn't stuck a sapphire in there yet. Imagine how little Aemond looked in episode 7, with angry stitches running down his face, but a bit more healed. His eye socket is still sewn shut, and it still causes him much pain, so go easy on our boy, y'all.

taglist still has some spots left! I've managed to continue it in the comments 🖤

and I would LOVE to hear your thoughts on this, and what you're hoping to read in the next part!!!

Series taglist: @caught-in-the-afterglow @aemondtargaryensrider @punggo66 @dollfaceyourfear @candypurplebutterfly @moonmaiden1996 @mxrgodsstuff @lolitaisreal @blue-serendipity @melsunshine @thejanecampaign @fxngsfxgxrty @padfooteyes @msmarvel-19 @tempo-rary-fix @lauraneedstochill @julczimozart @sarcasticfangirl @witchyvik @pyjama-shorts @bellaisasleep @zillahvathek @thincrusttheworks @krispold @yougotthatlove @raging-panda @fleetingly-artistic @throughgoeshamilton @polireader @katsav17 @minttea07 @kravitzwhore @meggiemay82 @hedonefox @daenysx @schniiipsel @namoreno @afro-hispwriter @aemondswifeisme @emcharra @malfoytargaryen @iiamthehybrid @fullmetalriotts @kellzlib @justsumtuffstuff @daydreamy-me @yentroucnagol @kezibear @queenofshinigamis @paprikaquinn

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #ewan mitchell

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ladythornofrivia · 7 months

Text

Kingdom of Fire & Blood || (Part Five)—Revised

🐉 MASTERLIST 🐉

Next Chapter

summary: aemond spying on the reader as she meets the council. council meeting gone wrong.

pair: aemond x reader

warnings & disclaimer: smut, violence, p in v sex, sexual content, aemond being arrogant, modern reader doesn’t know how the world of GOT works but is a Aemond stan, praise kink, breeding kink, spitting kink, voice kink, fluff, angst—family drama, oral sex, hate sex, stalking, jealousy, virginity loss, obsession, reader being sassy and aroused, sweet moments with reader and aemond. Reader is a huge GOT & HOTD fan. Pro-Green, Reader is a green supporter. Aemond becomes king instead of Aegon. (P.S. Alys who? I only know Aemond x Reader)

Chapter Five: The Council

~Aemond's POV~

Hidden in the secret pathways, he was sure he was slowly losing his breath. Not because the profoundness of the Blacks and Greens have attended, or the conversation he has heard in countless times. Or the fact when Aegon volunteered himself to watch the council within to pass of as entertainment. Alicent insisted on her sons to stay put. As always, they behave. Especially the new encounter in King’s Landing.

As much as Aemond hated to admit, he couldn't abide anymore to what's in store for the council, especially to a certain name he expected to hear.

“I still don’t know what you find so special about this girl,” Aegon commented, peeping through the secret view from the secret tunnel.

Swallowing, Aemond paid him no mind as the meeting was about to commence.

“I thought you prefer to a company of older women,” Aegon added.

On his thirteenth nameday, Aegon has taken the young Aemond to Streets of Silk. His innocence is ruined by the time he returned back to the Red Keep.

“Quiet,” Aemond said, not facing his older and drunken brother, now that Aegon carried wine in a pouch. “We don’t want mother to scold us again, do we?”

“Daemon is here,” Aegon whispered in his ear with dismay.

With certain guests like Daemon came for one thing. To question.

“But our father isn’t present,” Aemond said. "Even if he is, I doubt he’ll live to see the forging tale before us.”

“Who cares about him? He’s in his bed, slowly dying away even when he’s already a rotten corpse.”

Aemond ignored him.

“This might be a chance for us to survive from the fate of our house,” Aemond whispered, but Aegon is unsure and oblivious to what Aemond meant.

The moment the doors droned a creaking sound, the council ceased their talk and focused on the main objective they have been longing to grasp.

You, appearing as miserable and beaten, limped legs dragged.

It was quite clear either Otto—or Daemon—ordered the guards to escort you.

Aemond held his breath. He has seen countless women in the Street of Silk, but has never seen like a strange aura exuding, something he can’t quite put. He has seen many women in tourneys and gatherings and ceremonies, he has seen them in training yards for a good long look of his training, and gardens and lavish gatherings and lessons with the septa—all are stiffened with false courtesies and sweet smiles. But the air of your presence filled him with conundrum, raw and ethereally indescribable he couldn’t pinpoint to how he reckoned you, regardless of exchanging words once.

His eye laid watching the soft sways on your locks and cinch of your waist clung tight nightwear. The suppleness on your skin somewhat bruised. Other than that, you’re in your broken state; bandaged and eyes averting to look below.

Watching you tossed your hair over after the guards pinned you down, the twinge in his chest lightened. As soon as he learns your name, he’ll endow you. But quickly faded when he spotted to how their mistreatment.

"What in Gods’ name happened to her?" Aemond muttered.

Aegon discerned Aemond’s eager impatience.

“Patience, Aemond,” Aegon said, eyes twinkled at your quiet presence. “You wouldn’t want your special lady to be feared by you if you show yourself again.”

Aemond leaned in back to mutter Aegon’s ear. “Perhaps it’s you who’s impatient.”

Only Aemond could watch afar, despite the distance is at its proximity between the secret walls. Soon, he abided, await for your lowering gaze to come alight and basked in glow.

~Your POV~

The guards released you after a sudden drag they put you from your deep sleep. Men in the council weren’t the only thing to watch out for; at the corner of your eyes, the guards were there, Daemon is also present in the council.

“At last,” Otto stated in quiet merry. “I was afraid you might not show.”

Still drowning under the influence of Milk of the Poppy, you said nothing but you head bobbed in sleepiness; shaking on the inside; your hands clamped in cold sweat, rubbing your palms altogether, gawking your lulled eye down on the ground.

You said nothing; eyes narrowed in drowsy exhaustion.

“We’d like to ask you a few questions regarding to your first arrival at the Red Keep,” Otto informed, wearing the sincerity of his smile. Daemon, on the other hand, observed you by the pillar; his posture was exteriorly calming in a calculating way. You’d think meeting with the cast is a good for setting up pranks, but turns out the meeting is set for an intimidation. In other words, King Viserys is nowhere to be seen.

“You’re well aware to why you’re summoned in the council,” Otto asked.

Without looking, you felt the eyes of the council members and the guards sent their pierced gazes at you before you responded, “I know.”

“The King wishes to acquire of your existence,” Otto resumed. "But he's ill, as of late. Would you kindly introduce yourself to the court of the small council?” he demanded.

The sky outside the Red Keep thundered.

Over your veiled face and bandage from your tousled hair, Steady, you eyed on each member, not knowing on who to look; you didn’t want to make a miscalculation that could lead your early demise.

Beside you, Alicent’s hues sparked with encourage; a tiny curved quirked upward upon her lips.

Behind the council walls, there was none other than green shadows of her sons. Although while Aegon peered with amusement as Aemond with intrigued notion. Darting your eyes at Aemond, the sensation in your body faltered with alerting thrill and admiration. Without realizing, corner of your melancholic lips twitched, one dimple dented, but reformed back to a scowl, bandaged hands, your back slouched as your hands folded and rubbed altogether.

Drowsy, your head threw back in lazy gesture, released a heavy sigh, your vision blurred.

Otto inclined back in his seat with his hands folded, attentive. “Might I acquire ask to where are you from?”

Your heart thumped.

“Based on your accent, you neither sound like one of us as Westerosi. Are you from Essos?”

Subtly, you shaken your head.

“Great Moraq? Leng? Quarth? Yiti?”

You licked your parched lips, eye frantic below your lap. “Where the fuck is my cigarette,” you hissed.

Startled, the council is confused with your question.

"I beg your pardon?" Otto spoke, stunned.

“I'm not going to give the answer you wanted unless I have my belongings,” you answered, your quiet voice deepened with loudness, lounging back against the chair frame as your arms resting on the armrest, you head tilted back against the frame. This time, your eyes pierced directly, knowing this information you’ll provide won’t take overnight.

Otto unyielding eyes shot back. “Whatever it is, you can retrieve your possessions back after you answer, my lady.”

You scoffed.

Meanwhile Alicent whispered—inquired Criston where your belongings are.

After a couple minutes passing, the knight returned with none other than your clutched purse.

Sweeping your hair back, huffing as you gave the council members the glare.

The council exchanged concerns.

Otto conceded. “I’d like to say my gratitude on saving my granddaughter. However, I would like to know how you got here into Westeros. More so in King’s Landing.”

You paused and adjusted yourself in the seat again, putting your folded hands on your lap. “Look, I don’t know how the fuck I got here. I went to a party, got drunk and then slept on my bed in my apartment. The next thing I knew that I was cold and wet, and someone pulled me over back to the shore from drowning at Blackwater Bay; I was unconscious for two days until the third day and then I was being chased by three men in armor.”

“Do you remember what house they’re from?”

You leaned your back and pondered. From what it appears, it’s all too hazy until it struck. “No. But this one knight saved me from them—Ser Remon Blackwood.”

“Must’ve been the Brackens chasing after her,” Daemon concluded. “Damn Brackens and Blackwoods never cease to shed grudge and the indulgence of their pettiness.” Daemon darted his unpredictable glare at you. “What I want to know is how in the Seven Hells did you survive? Or was it Ser Criston who murdered them in Kingswood?”

Some council members collectively gasp in silence, rather in a quiet outrage, anticipating.

Gritting your teeth, you explained, “For the record, I only saw Ser Criston when I woke up, when he took me to King’s Landing. Before Ser Criston found me, those three men were hunting me, saying that I should be bred with their children, called me a whore—one said he wanted to eat my flesh after done raping me and then other said whoever makes me scream the loudest wins and give birth,” you answered. “In return, I stabbed them in the knees, cut their cock off, then disfigured one man’s face with the knife. Is that good enough for you or should I spell it out for you?”

Each and every one of their faces blanched.

“Why aim for the knees?”

Your long locks shielded your good eye. “They exposed their weak spot.” The corners of your lips twitched.

“Is it true you found her in the forest, Ser Criston?” Otto asked.

Criston’s shoulders shrugged. “It’s true. She was lying on the ground when we reached to the exit, all smothered in bloodshed.”

The silence collectively ensued, replacing with coherent whispers.

“Knights often had armor on their knees, even their cocks.”

“I’m certain she’s a wildling.”

“For Gods’s sake, Wildlings would never set their foot here, not even King’s Landing!” Daemon is annoyed by the other council’s statement.

“You’ve never been into the Wall,” one council member said.

Daemon folded his arms. “No, but I heard stories of their customs—filthy animals they are as they come.”

“You mentioned Ser Remon Blackwood,” Otto said, facing you. “He managed to pull you back out on the shores from Blackwater Bay.”

Your voice lowered. “He did.”

“From what I’ve gathered, when Alicent and Rhaenyra saw you in the Maester’s room, your peculiar clothes and your hair are covered in dark sand, you were at Dragonstone while unconscious at the time?”

Everyone was looking at you intently.

“I was.”

“On that night, there was an occurrence that awoken the dragons—the whole Westeros. Nobles and common folk often talk for the past few weeks, regarding to the incident. The green star befell from the skies and plunged into waters of the Blackwater Bay—in Westeros. Have you heard of it?”

Confused, you didn’t answer.

“Daemon was there, that’s when he last met Ser Remon Blackwood—Ser Criston saw to it.” Otto then exchanged glances with Alicent. “We were…I hate to be the bearer of news or gaining the notions of accusing. But…we believed that you’re the green star that fell from the sky.”

At the very least, nothing surprises you anymore. You were drunk at someone’s birthday party, then off to sleep in your apartment, but off to sleep and find yourself awake in the middle of the forest, in Westeros, is utterly mind blowing, but soon accepted the fate that’s been thrust onto you until the reminder.

You scoffed, your hand gestured in. “Wait just a damn fucking minute,” you interfered. “Whatever you’re thinking, you—”

“So you’re the one who causes my Caraxes to nearly bitten my hand off in half. My dragon couldn’t sleep well for the last few days,” Daemon fumed as he went closer to you. Daemon clutched the side of your neck, fingertips pressured. But you were unfazed.

“Fuck off,” your voice raised, eyes hardened, shoving Daemon away, but he wouldn’t budge, his clutch tightened on you.

“Daemon, spare her—she did no such treason; she protected and defended your life with hers on the bridge and the life of children,” Otto said, but you detected his sarcasm. Otto never cared for the Blacks.

Behind you, you felt a heavy presence towering over you. But no one was there, as if someone’s watching over you.

Daemon studied your features. “I find it hard to believe that a young lady like you who could fend off your opponents with a blindfold. Tell me, how did you manage to strike under such vulnerable condition,” His fingertips caressed you on your cheekbone, leading down on the side of your throat, thumbing across the smooth flesh.

Your hand clutched his, nails deepened.

“None of your goddamn business,” you answered, cold expression in your good eye unwaver, shoving his touch back in lenient motion; your body leaned back. “A little “thank you” for saving your royal, arrogant ass would’ve been nice.”

Daemon clicked his tongue and stepped back, giving you the broken knife you once held underneath the folded handkerchief. “You attacked the men in armor with this. You stole this Ser Remon Blackwood, didn’t you? The sigil marked on his dagger,” he seethed.

Quietude engulfed the air.

“Think what you like, princeling. But Ser Remon Blackwood gave that to me for protection. I promised him that I’ll give the knife back the next time I see him…”

Daemon shaken his head. “His body has been found, buried. His family were in mourning. Seeing them would consider to be the worst idea.”

Hearing Remon Blackwood’s death, you carried no hope or peace of mind. Instead, you sulked, but insisted on not showing the upsetting factor invaded in you. When you veered Daemon’s eyes, he could offer nothing but sympathy, but molded to indifference. Somehow, it left you clouded in anger.

“This is certainly a waste for our time,” one maester said. “We’ll never get information out of her!”

“Filthy as her mouth, spiteful as a venomous beast.”

“Surely she’s a born Wilding.”

While the council spoke over, nose scrunching, you assumed, almost sinisterly ill from the flips and coils in your belly, watching the young knight carrying on what it seems to appear—your clutched purse.

Your eye fixed on the object, glaring at the young knight, who was taking his sweet time to chat another guard—a report, you assumed.

At your attentive gaze, Alicent ordered the young knight in order for you to retrieve your belongings—all which are intact due to the quality of your clutched bag.

The young knight handled your possession, but as he called you, you stare into space, contemplating. The world you admire was starting to piss you off. You understood that you’re the outsider. With your unhealed wounds, what can you do? In a world of Westeros, men and women died often.

You stared into space so much that you didn’t sense others watching you. All you wanted was a peaceful sleep, but the guards are strong, with your weakened health, you fought them off, but they got the upper hand.

But each time their discussion extended, you rarely responded; blanked expression, white noise ringing louder, and concentration in your head afloat elsewhere.

Until—

You gripped the young knight’s hand, without looking back over your shoulder and twisted his fingers; he yelped, his body collapsed as you twisted his hand and arm farther with your good hand, with your position changed—then with both hands, you shifted—slammed his weight against the marbled table, his arms twisted on the back, leaving everyone standing in shock. The council collectively had their breaths inhaled, paled at the sudden shift within you.

“I said, don’t touch me,” you reminded him, voice darkened.

Criston tried to hauled you, but you resisted.

“He has your possessions,” Alicent begged, motherly as she sounded, while the guards prowled at your direction to arrest you.

At once, you released the young knight and reclined back to your seat. From there, you opened your purse after retrieving it, inspecting all your items are intact. He hissed, appeasing the pain on his hand. The council members slowly arrived back into their seats.

“Seems you’re no ordinary maiden,” Otto said.

You ignored him. “I haven’t had a chance to get a fucking break. I think you got the answers by now that I’m not from here. I’m neither a prostitute nor a foreign bitch or a Wildling from those places you mentioned, one that you people are accusing me of.”

Nobody moved.

“I don’t think you understand the occurrence, my lady,” Jason Lannister barged in with soft voice. “In fact, you have no clue to why you’re graciously summoned.”

“I didn’t know being “graciously” summoned in the meeting by guards dragging me out of the blue.”

“You don’t know what it’s at stake. You have woken the whole seven kingdoms in Westeros! And the dragons barely slept—flying about the skies and roared as if they’re dying. I suggest you start acting like a noble maiden instead of being a foolish common whore in Street of Silk,” Jason Lannister suggested.

In paused silence, everyone was waiting for your answer.

Opening your clutched bag, you took out your dragon lighter and the pack of cigarettes; lighting up the cigarette and blew a smoke as you turned away.

The council watched in astonishment as you held a foreign object in your hand.

“Where I come from won’t matter, and as far as I’m concerned I would worry about something else more important, if I were you.” Your eyes narrowed it almost shadowed.

“Father, she’s in no better shape. It would be best if we leave her for a proper recovery to regain answers,” Alicent said, giving you sympathy. “Dragging her from her bedside while under the Milk of the Poppy won’t do much good.”

You looked at her with a smile in gratitude.

Shutting his eyes, Otto rubbed the bridge of nose. “We will continue this tomorrow. King Viserys would like to witness the accountability of the young woman.”

The council absconded the meeting, as you watched them up and left, you did the same, leaving to your quarters, but the Cargyll twins followed and escorted back.

~Aemond’s POV~

Under a stricken of nightly hour in King’s Landing, after a long watch in the secret pathway, Aemond’s internal aggravation simmered and worsened as time struck pass. Hands flexed and fingernail scratched against the palm, recalling on you exiting the council, despite the Cargyll brothers kindly escorted you back to a spare room that Aemond assigned since your first arrival. He could never undo the memory of you.

Soon, Aemond learned that Daemon ordered them to a quick way “summon” you. Ser Criston and Aemond abducted the men in armor who mistreated you, yanking the sleeping guards buried deep the underground of Red Keep, only for their tongues to be cut and their bones to be bloody and fractured.

He got up and under the lavish wooden box, it contained in miscellaneous items. But underneath, he had the possession of your clothes—all washed and dried. No blood stains or mud was to be seen.

Once he gathered the materials, Aemond lounged back on his velvet chair near at the great hearth, not averting from the bright fire, clenching your attire in his arms, and lifted to his nose; a fainted scent of vanilla and strawberry wafted, aroused his cock.

His heart aflame, determined and tribulation all at once. He must have you. He must claim you as his only lover. He must claim you and your smile alone. His white flower, his hope, his wandering light. He must succeed.

No matter what.

Taglist: @galactict3a @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @hufflepuff1700 @me753 @fredskum @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @taintedlovesworld @kukulyarva @darylandbethfanforever9 @blackswxnn @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @colored-tr-panels @valeskafics

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windriverdelta · 1 month

Text

Jon Snow - King in the North?

One of the open questions of TWOW/ADOS is whether Jon Snow will ever become King in the North, as in Game of Thrones and in Robb's will. Now the KitN point in the show was extremely sloppily done - Jon didn't really accomplish anything with it, and some people suspect that the show simply gave Jon Stannis Baratheon's book function - and unlike "Stannis burns Shireen" or "Bran becomes king" it's not one of the moments-from-the book we know of, but given the show's tendency to write "moments" without a solid foundation just because they occur in the future books it's not ruled out. There are also some references by Mormont's raven and elsewhere that compare Jon to a king.

That said, I find it improbable. The first big problem is Stannis Baratheon. He's never going to abide a new King in the North, as he makes clear to Catelyn and Davos in ACOK. Jon Snow is effectively a Stannis supporter in ADWD, as we can see from e.g the way he calls him "the king" without qualifiers to Alys Karstark and tries to warn him about Arnolf Karstark. I doubt that he'd try to usurp Stannis. And crucially, Stannis has a lot of plot armour/guaranteed survival going in to TWOW/ADOS - unlike the show, Shireen has been left at the Wall and there is no way she could reach Stannis at Winterfell before his army starves to death, so we know he has to survive. And while we've seen with the Edric Storm affair in ASOS that Stannis is prepared to sacrifice a child to stop the Long Night, until the Long Night is actually underway I doubt that he'll give his only child to stop it. Lastly, Stannis being Azor Ahai is one of the lies Daenerys must slay, not the Boltons or Jon. Him dying before ADOS is an exceedingly unlikely prospect.

Second, there are a lot of political obstacles to Jon Snow becoming King in the North. While Robb's will almost certainly legitimized him, there is no evidence that a written copy of the will survived the Red Wedding and the Grand Northern Conspiracy is not a thing. All what he'd have is Maege Mormont's and Galbart Glover's word, since all other witnesses are trapped south of the Neck/in Iron Throne ally custody - and oh yeah, they are with Howland Reed who knows that Jon is not Ned's son. Also, the will assumed that Bran and Rickon were dead and Sansa in the power of the Lannisters; they aren't, and this is going to come out in TWOW between Davos' mission and Bran revealing himself in the crofters' village, complicating Northern politics as all these candidates have advantages and disadvantages over Jon. It's also unclear whether Northern independence is actually strongly supported in the North after the Red Wedding - we don't have much evidence of patriotic fervour in ACOK and ASOS, let alone in the history of the North during the Targaryen dynasty, and the current movers-and-shakers in the North mostly weren't around for the war council in Riverrun where Robb's acclamation took place. Their attitudes might be very negotiable. And as for the notion of Jon being acclaimed like in the show after defeating the Boltons - that's extremely unlikely in the books for sundry logistical and thematic reasons.

Speaking of, I think it's somewhat thematically unsound for a story where per GRRM the "true conflict is north of the Wall" and where Osha tells Bran that Robb is marching in the wrong direction, to suddenly champion the cause of Northern independence. Stannis, not Robb, is still alive at the end of ASOS. A coalition between wildlings, Starks, Team Stannis and small-o others - later joined by Daenerys and Tyrion as future dragonriders - is way more likely in my opinion.*

Vis-a-vis Jon Snow, there is also the question of how KitN fits into his character arc. He has already declined Stannis' offer of Winterfell in ASOS, making a tilt in TWOW might be repetitive. His story in TWOW is likely going to head to a resurrection, the Stark Family Reunion, the R+L=J reveal and (eta: in ADOS - see conversation with @jackoshadows) becoming a dragonrider (two of them must be Targaryens), probably also an identity crisis - KitN seems more like a detour, especially as the timeline does not leave much time for anything else. Abandoning the fight against the Others for political games in the North only to return to fighting the Others would be questionable storytelling.

Credit to @nobodysuspectsthebutterfly @poorquentyn @turtle-paced for inspiration/citations.

*Or a very dark possibility: Northern separatists try to force Jon's (or someone else's) accession by fighting with Stannis ... only to be taken in the rear by the Others when the Horn of Joramun brings the Wall down and their attempt to end in catastrophe as their armies are smashed between Others and pro-Stannis troops. The fiefs of the most pro-independence Northerners we've seen - Lyanna Mormont (OK, she's way down the Mormont succession order), Greatjon Umber and Robett Glover - are also the closest to the Wall, discounting the mountain clans, and thus closest to the "firing line". That might be a set-up to such a tragedy.

#asoiaf #jon snow #anti northern independence #the winds of winter #the north #stannis baratheon

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hanafubuxi · 1 month

Text

did we look like lovers or partners in crime?

welcome to her lady's favourite records, delivered to you by me, daijin! these are collected records from her keystones that she favours. she told me to pass on the following message: minors dni with green coded works & abide by each individual keystones' blog rules!

𐐪𐑂 heia : @heiayen : works found under the tag #heia's writin' ♡

gently wipe the sorrows off my life, i dream : scaramouche x gn!reader

in danger, sinking deeper in your arms : neuvillette x gn!reader

to think that we could stay the same : lumine x gn!reader

so, when i die, which i must do : neuvillette x gn!reader

𐐪𐑂 oak : @rinneverse : masterlist ♡

wolf in sheep's clothing : jing yuan x f!reader

bad idea : itadori yuuji x f!reader

cherry flavoured : diluc x f!reader

wrapped around her finger : aventurine x f!reader

𐐪𐑂 jay : @mitsvriii : masterlist ♡

starving : aventurine x gn!reader

five things : aventurine x gn!reader

puppet strings : scaramouche x gn!reader

attraction : obanai iguro x gn!reader x giyuu tomioka

𐐪𐑂 coco : @hwaitham : masterlist ♡

principles of love : alhaitham x f!reader

fondant baby doll : wriothesley x f!reader

whimsies & oddities : alhaitham x gn!reader

tangerines for two : yingxing x f!reader

𐐪𐑂 zenith : @lovingluxury : masterlist ♡

sleep tight : dan heng x gn!reader

when the thunder strikes : wriothesley x gn!reader

on metal benches : albedo x gn!reader

nom : multi blue lock x gn!reader

𐐪𐑂 aly : @soleillunne : masterlist ♡

hold my hand, please, one last time : multi genshin x gn!reader

stars : multi genshin x gn!reader

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snowed in : albedo x gn!reader

𐐪𐑂 avery : @stellar-skyy : masterlist ♡

dance with me? : aventurine x gn!reader

i just despise you : heizou x gn!reader

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a silence so loud : heizou x gn!reader

𐐪𐑂 gray : @mydiluc : masterlist ♡

lingerie : kaveh x f!reader

cravings : multi genshin x f!reader

you, me, we : diluc x f!reader

stuck! : diluc x f!reader x wriothesley

𐐪𐑂 ying : @xianyoon : masterlist ♡

slow & steady : wriothesley x gn!reader

mighty ocean or a gentle kiss : wriothesley x gn!reader

my great, lost love : childe x gn!reader

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𐐪𐑂 xixi : @cubffections : masterlist ♡

all mine : sunday x f!reader

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the most beautiful time of year : albedo x gn!reader

nice 'tea' meet you : cyno x gn!reader

last kiss : wanderer x gn!reader

the way he loves : wriothesley x gn!reader

𐐪𐑂 kai : @yngxing : masterlist ♡

a new feeling : blade x f!reader

the best relief : yingxing x f!reader

daylight : ayato x f!reader

blessed : aventurine x gn!reader

her lady would like to add that, if you find yourself to be missing - it is merely because at the time of collaborating this post, your pinned/masterlists had been wip so she hasn't been able to gather her favourite works on your blog as of right now. you will be added in due time. new mutuals will be added as they are made! these are also in no particular order!

"how do i say this? listen suzume... one day you'll grow up, okay? don't be scared, the future is not that scary. you’ll meet many people whom you will cherish and many people who will cherish you back. it might be tough moving forward but at the end of a seemingly endless dark night, there will be morning. you will grow up basking in that light. i'm sure of it. it's written in the stars."

did you look like mine?

#◟the first encounter.

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sunfyresrider · 1 year

Text

Where love ends, hate begins.

Synopsis: You are the wife of an imperial minister (Aemond Targaryen), who creates a high-society scandal by an affair with Aegon Targaryen, a dashing cavalry officer in 19th-century St. Petersburg. Your husband, Aemond, offers you a difficult choice: Go into exile with Aegon but never see your young son again, or remain with your family and abide by the rules of discretion.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x You Warnings: Cheating, scandals, time accurate misogyny, mental health issues, mutual pining, kissing oolala Word Count: 6k Note: LOOSELY based on Anna Karenina. I tried to do an AU but I couldn't do scene for scene since it is such a long book and movie. I'm aiming for a three-part series but at this rate it might be more. @beaconofthehightower you asked for this so long ago and im so so so sorry it's taken me so long.

Act 1

It was early in the day and your maid, Annushka has been taking her time to dress you. She’s a good girl, young, loyal, and modest. One you could trust not to sleep with your husband. It was quite clear when several different maids had tried their hands at him. Albeit failing, at least to your knowledge. Except for Alys, sweet Alys, the wet nurse who wooed her way into his bed successfully. It was something you never spoke of but stayed as a permanent stain on your marriage.

At the very least this affair was never publicized to embarrass you like most others would. Aemond seemed to truly love you and your son… the best way he could under the circumstances.

Ah yes… the circumstances of your marriage. You were nearly eighteen when you were whisked away to St. Petersburg and sold off like a dog. He was older than you and had far more power in government than you ever could. Aemond did court you out of kindness and propose to you out of respect, but the truth was clear… you had no ability to say no.

It was a fine marriage at first. You didn’t love him, but he had a great interest in you. Aemond was a good man, an honorable man, but a boring one. The marriage bed was not filled with pleasure except for his own… You doubted he understood how a woman’s pleasure was different. Your day-to-day life was not filled with fun and affection but rather duties and niceties.

You gave him one son, Jaehaerys, a beautiful snow haired boy. Both of you believed this would change your marriage for the better and bring you closer… It did not. Aemond was far too busy with his businesses and the government to spend time with you or your son. It all fell upon your shoulders to raise them both, take care of them both, and sacrifice everything for them both… You were a perpetually unhappy woman.

You moved over to your dressing table once she finished and began trying to read a letter that had recently been sent. Though your face remains expressionless your eyes frown. Your head swirls with a distant memory. Jacaerys in a vertical embrace with a woman; still clothed. You shake it away and turn the page to read more, another memory soon plaguing you. They were still kissing but this time he hoisted up her skirts.

The more you read the more concerned you are becoming. Jacaerys comes in quietly and late from a night on the town, he enters his dressing room. He stops. He smiles a foolish apologetic smile. Baela is waiting for him, shocked, enraged, holding out a billet-doux on. It was a love note!

You stood up from your place and immediately went to your husband's office to tell him the gossip. Would he care that much? Probably not. Did it matter to him? Not so much. Would he most likely block out the sound of your voice? Yes.

“... and Baela found a note from the governess.” Aemond was draining his coffee cup as you were trying to explain the situation. He continued to transfer papers from his desk to his portfolio as you waited impatiently for him to say something, anything. “Well…?” His voice was unattractive and reedy. Aemond finally took his spot as a senior figure in the government, he became a very busy man, and your drama obviously didn’t amuse him. “He wants me to come to Moscow… to persuade Baela to forgive him.”

“I'm to be deprived of my wife so that adultery may be forgiven. I can't excuse him just because he's your brother.” Your eyes pleaded with him, “It's for Baela's sake too.” Aemond stood up and started preparing to leave. “I have four committees today…”

“Aemond, do you think nine years of marriage and children should count for nothing against a . . . an infatuation?” He cracked his knuckles, a very bad habit he’s had since you met. Aemond finally conceded with your request, “No. Very well.” He lifted your hand and placed a kiss on it, “but sin has a price, you may be sure of that.”

He left soon after and his words rang in your head like an alarm. Jacaerys didn’t necessarily deserve forgiveness for his sin, but this was nine years of marriage and several children later… It would be a shame to let it go to waste all because of one mistake.

When you went to tell Jaehaerys of your travels you found him playing with his locomotive and its tender plus a carriage or two, with part of the superstructure--the whole kit and caboodle was a rich child's table-top model railway. It was the best gift Aemond gave because ever since Jae rarely left its side.

“I need to speak with you, love.” Jaehaerys frowned and moved to take a seat on your lap. “I’m going to travel to Moscow for a little while because your aunt Baela is not well.” Your son was a sensitive child, the thought of you leaving caused him to tear up immediately. “Why?” You brushed his hair out of his face, “because that’s where Aunt Baela lives.” He sniveled, “why?”

You patiently said it again, “I told you, she's not well and I must visit her.” A tear slid down his cheek, “why?” You sighed, “Don't make me cry as well. I'll be back before you know it and bring you a present.” He stared up at you with his big blue eyes and you felt your heart shatter. “Don't want a present. I want you to stay.” You were on the brink of tears, “Oh . . . my little dragon.” Jaehaerys calmed himself at the idea of a new toy. He raised his chin and stared up at you with, “What present?” You laughed as you dabbed your eyes, “That’s better… it’ll be a surprise!”

Annushka, your maid, rode with you in the train car to Moscow. She carried your bags with all your belongings and never complained once, she truly was a god send. You brought a picture of Jaehaerys with you… As you stared, the tears in your eyes began to form again. He was your little love, your little dragon who was more of an image of his father. You weren’t happy to be leaving in all honesty but who else would mend your family’s marriage.

Surely not Jacaerys because he was a damned fool. Your husband was a damned fool as well. It wasn’t confirmed that he too dabbled in adultery, but it would not surprise you, he was very talented at keeping things discreet and hidden. It seemed to be a curse that loomed over you, every man around you just couldn’t keep his hands to himself and his wife. You vowed never to be like them for your son’s sake…

As you were unboarding the train you nearly ran into a man, he was tall, muscular, and had medium length, wavy, white hair flowing over his shoulders. You barely exchanged a glance before you moved your separate ways. He was handsome, strikingly beautiful even, just one last glance to confirm you weren’t daydreaming. You turned back just to catch a final glimpse and he did the same. You quickly turned away, but his eyes lingered on your back.

You were proven to be a hypocrite. It was extremely wrong of you to even think about another man being handsome. You pushed the feeling down into the depth of your stomach and pressed onward to meet Jacaerys. The moment you saw him you flung an arm around his neck and pulled him in for a warm kiss on the cheek. He smiled and put his arm around you. “You don't look ashamed.” Your sibling looked like a sad puppy, “I am, I really am.”

When you pulled Jacaerys back into the train car you noticed the same man from earlier sitting next to the old woman you temporarily chatted with. She spoke with you about her son, Aegon, and you did the exact same. The countess was coming to pick him up for a visit almost exactly like you were doing with Jacaerys. You smiled, “There, Countess, you have found your son and I have found my brother.” The countess stood up to greet you,

“Madame — has a son, too. It's the first time they have been apart, so she frets about him.”

Your gaze barely left the man, his crystal blue eyes seemed to pierce through your soul. “Oh! You are my half-brother's wife, excuse me for not recognizing you before.” Your mouth gaped open, “I’m so sorry I did not realize! You must be Countess Alicent then. I’ve heard so much about you both.” In truth, you barely heard about his half-brother or stepmother besides the fact he had them.

You went to speak but the countess intercepted, “What a lovely surprise! We passed the time telling each other about our sons without realizing we were basically family.” You nodded toward him with a grin, “Yes, I've been hearing all about you.”

“That must have been very boring for you.” You wished to speak more but the ringing sound of the wheel-tapper's hammer was faintly audible in your ear as you hesitantly turned to leave, “Au revoir, Countess.” She walked forward and placed two hands on your cheeks, “Au revoir, my dear. Let me kiss your pretty face.” Countess Alicent did just that, it was a European custom you never quite got used to. You turned to offer your hand to Aegon as was customary. He took your hand, then the train lurched and moved, unsteadying you both.

Immediately after seeing you, Aegon was awed by you, he noticed some kind of inner light or maybe aura that was different from the rest of Moscow. There was also the fact that you were simply beautiful, too beautiful for a city like this. You also appeared too youthful to have a son in his mind. It enticed him to try and discover more about you.

The first thing he really thought about was how mysterious you seemed to be. Who would be able to drop everything and come and visit their family? It must mean you were truly dedicated to them, which was beautiful. Then how sweet of a display you put on when you met your dear brother. Your heart must be bigger than the rest… Just as Aegon was falling in love at first sight, a major accident happened that caught both your attention.

You ran out to the platform where Jacaerys was and noticed he -- and everyone still on the platform was shocked by a dreadful scream and shouting. The train, having moved a few feet, stopped. Jacaerys hurried towards the scene of the accident, right opposite the gate. The Station master overtook him.

The Wheel-Tapper lied between the wheels, mangled. You and Jacaerys joined the horrified onlookers after successfully pushing through the crowd. The Guards Officer arrived, with his bouquet. Then Aegon Arrived soon after. He turned to the Guards Officer, “Keep your people inside until this has been cleared up.”

The Countess, Aegon, you and Jacaerys, almost in tears, came toward the gate. A Porter followed with your large suitcase, hatboxes, etc. Annushka had the traveling bag. “The sole support of a large family, they say.” You nearly scoffed at Jacaerys but decided to focus on the family of the deceased, “Can't anything be done for them?” Aegon glanced at you, “Wait for me, Madam.” A wide smirk grew on Alicent’s face as she watched her son run off. The countess turned to you “I've you to thank for that.”

You had no clue what she had meant by that. Jacaerys peered back and noticed Aegon with the Stationmaster, taking money from his wallet. “What a good fellow…” You turned, was he paying them because you said something? Was this a way of impressing you? You pondered, at least he was trying to win you over by paying the family of a victim. However, you were married, and one simple act of kindness wouldn’t drive you to infidelity… You weren't like your family.

Jacaerys and you were riding in a coach on the journey to his home. You hadn’t spoken much due to the minor trauma you had just endured… And the man you had just met who seemed to fancy you. “Have you known Aegon long?” He chuckled softly, “Did you like him? He's in love with Rhaena.” You weren’t exactly sure why that felt like a nail to your chest. Rhaena was your sister in law's Baela, little sister. She was like a princess, sensitive, excitable, somewhat high-strung, beautiful, it made sense he would love her.

“Oh…” you paused, trying to once again avoid your thoughts, “But we should be discussing you and Baela.” He groaned and you began to scold him like your son. “What have you got to say for yourself?!” He pleaded with you, “I've said it all--on my knees--in tears . . . Now I need you to say it. I'm going to the office, so you'll have Baela to yourself.” You rolled your eyes, “Don't be home late.” Of course, you had to be the one to mend their relationship.

In your mind the meeting with Baela went rather well. You spent an hour comforting her and letting her cry into your shoulders. She cried about how she could never forgive him, and she didn’t love him anymore, but you knew it was a lie. You successfully got that information out of her and made her admit it out loud. Jacaerys was rather satisfied with the outcome however, surely it was not going to be that simple for him. Of course, he didn’t deserve simplicity after he disrespected her in such a way.

After that ordeal, you were sitting with Jacaerys's children playing a game with alphabet letters. The peace you had with them was quickly disturbed by Rhaena bursting in the door overly excited about something. You push the alphabet bricks aside and sigh, well that’s the end of that.

“Will you stay for the Bobrishchev's ball, —?” You didn’t enjoy them anymore; it was for young fresh faces to excitedly learn about each other. You were only 24 and yet you felt absolutely decrypted, perhaps due to the fact you married an older man. “Oh… I always feel dull and old at balls.” She scoffed, “How can you ever be dull and old?”

Jacaerys arrived in the doorway and quickly the children bolted over to him. He had come to give you a break and take them away, how sweet. “Tell her she must come to the ball!” He smiled at you mischievously, he knew how much you loathe them. “Of course, she must!” When Jacaerys scurried off you turned your attention toward Rhaena again.

“I know why you want me to come. You want everyone to be there because you're sure it's going to be your night,” You acted out mock-mysteriousness. “How did you know?” You moved the alphabet bricks around to spell Aegon. “I know everything.” Rhaena glanced down and began joyful nodding. You laughed at her genuinely happy she was still acting as a little girl. It gave you an excuse to reminisce on your old life.

To be young again…surrounded by that blue mist, like mist on the mountains that clears slowly to reveal the terrifying, beautiful valley you must enter to become grown-up… you were eighteen too, when you got married. Back then, you had your entire life ahead of you and a skip in every step you took. Now, everything is dark around you, all the noise you hear is muffled, and the beautiful valley looks dull and dead. There was a quiet moment of regret that loomed in the air, but you decided to quickly dispel it.

It was late at night, and you were still aimlessly playing with the bricks, too lost in thought to carry yourself to bed. The pleasant clicks are the only sound that remains in the dark home. Your thoughts whirl with the happenings of today, a deceased man on the tracks, a crying Baela whom you have to take care of and a man whose image looked like it was plucked directly out of a book. Were you just as bad as the rest for finding him attractive? No, just as long as you don’t act on it. Except there was something in the back of your head begging for you to. No, you’re too dull to catch his attention anyway… You violently closed your book and decided to sleep these thoughts away.

The doorbell ringing caught your attention. You made your way down the stairs in front of the entrance hall. Aegon was let in by a servant, he was completely splattered with snow. “No, Your Excellency. He's just gone up. The Princess retired early. Is there a message you wish for me to deliver?” One of your brother’s servants asked him.

He glanced up at the top of the stairs and noticed you standing there. For a moment your eyes locked and nothing was said. Everything around you melted away and it was only you gazing at each other.

As Aegon looked up at the top of the staircase, he saw you standing there, illuminated by the silver light of the full moon. Your hair was gently rustling in the cool night breeze, and he couldn't help but feel a shiver run down his spine. You were beautiful, and there was an air of mystery about you that made him want to know more.

You stood there with a grace that took his breath away. Your figure was draped in a flowing gown that seemed to shine in the moonlight, and the sight of you took his breath away. As he approached, he couldn't help but feel his heart racing faster with every step he took.

There was something about you that made him feel like he had known you for his entire life, even though they had just met. And as he looked into your eyes, he saw a spark that ignited his heart. He wanted to speak to you, to get to know you better.

Aegon felt himself lost in the moment, captured by the enchantment of the moon and the beauty of your presence. He knew that this feeling he had was something special. And with a deep sense of longing, he realized that he had fallen in love with you.

He was haunting you like a ghost. His very existence was temptation into sin, and you were no sinner. Aegon opened his mouth to speak but you quickly turned and ran up the stairs. His lightened eyes turned dark, “no, I don’t have a message.”

As you looked at herself in the mirror, you felt a sense of disappointment wash over. The long black gown you had painstakingly chosen for the ball now looked drab and frumpy. Your hair, which you had styled into an elegant updo, seemed flat and lifeless. Even your makeup, which you had meticulously applied to highlight your best features, failed to hide the dark circles around your eyes.

But it wasn't just your appearance that made you hesitate. The thought of being in a crowded ballroom, surrounded by younger and more vibrant people, filled you with dread. You didn't feel like dancing or socializing, and the idea of making small talk with strangers for hours on end made you feel exhausted.

Despite your doubts, however, a part of you still longed for a touch of glamour and romance. You remembered how much you had enjoyed attending balls in your youth, twirling around the dance floor in a cloud of taffeta and lace. Maybe tonight, you told yourself, you could recapture some of that magic, just for a little while.

With a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and picked up your clutch. You knew the night ahead wouldn't be easy, but perhaps it would be worth it, if only to remind yourself that you still had a spark of youth inside.

Once you arrived you realized how gilded an affair it was. Each guest was welcomed by a hostess and dancing had quickly started, a waltz. You stood at the corner of the room observing the people dancing and chatting… people watching was an interesting hobby. Thinking of how other people had their own lives, experiences, thoughts, and dramas eased your own suffering.

Rhaena entered last to make a big show of her arrival. For a moment the crowd ceased and watched her float down the stairs. She was a proper lady, it seemed everything had come together for her. Her hair, her skin, her dress, and her moment. She was practically radiating happiness so you couldn’t help but smile and nod for encouragement.

You continued surveying the room, casually scanning the crowd for any sign of the man you were seeking, with his striking silver hair and enigmatic gaze. Your demeanor was cool and detached, as if you were indifferent to his presence, but inwardly your heart raced with anticipation. As you searched, your thoughts drifted, pondering the possibility of love at first sight. Despite your brief encounters, Aegon had left an indelible impression on you, and you couldn't shake the feeling that you were meant to be together… You were delusional and married, you told yourself. He was Rhaena’s and tonight was for her.

“He’s here somewhere.” Jacaerys voice pulled you out of your daze. “Who is here?” He chuckled before raising his glass to his mouth, “Aegon, of course.” You scoffed, “his whereabouts matter not to me.”

“They obviously matter to Rhaena.” He hummed by your side and watched her skip towards you both. Rhaena approached with a wide smile plastered on her face. “How are you, Jace?” He proudly stated, “Thanks to —, I am a changed man. Would you like to dance?” As he smirked, her face fell flat. “No! Ask your sister.”

“I don’t… really…” Before you could finish your sentence, you noticed Aegon approaching. Your heart began to race, and the room slowly closed in on you. No! This was Rhaena’s lover not yours. “Come on then, little brother!” You snatched Jacaerys’s arm and twirled him onto the floor.

Right as Aegon was about to bow you were whisked away from him once more. He doesn’t notice Rhaena staring at him like he is the king of Russia either. His eyes follow you all the way to the middle of the floor. “W-would you like to dance?” His attention is still on you as he answers, “Of course” With a fake smile on his face he takes Rhaena onto the floor and into the waltz.

The entire waltz your eyes kept meeting with his. You could not escape him no matter how hard you tried. You successfully managed to avoid changing partners and dragging your brother along against his will. At last, you can no longer see him, so you relinquish Jace from your grasp and move out of the crowds.

The night does not get easier for you. Your eyes peer up to the balcony where Aegon has escaped. You had hoped he wouldn’t catch you staring but it seemed he was already staring first. You turn and go towards the bar where Jacaerys has been talking to hostesses and further dishonoring his family, most likely. You gaze up at the balcony once more, but Aegon was not there.

You look for him among the dancers until a voice from your side startles you. “Dance with me.” He demanded, Aegon didn’t have the restraint to pretend to be asking. Your surprise at his behest was not easily hidden. “I am not used to being spoken to like that by a man I met once at a railway station.” He let out a sigh, “I dare say, if you do not dance with me then I’m leaving and going to bed early.” You ponder for a moment, this is Rhaena’s crush, this is her night, this is her moment… “I’ll dance with you for Rhaena’s sake.”

Rhaena was watching the crowd like a hawk waiting for Aegon to emerge. Until she saw it and was completely taken aback. You two were hand in hand waltzing across the floor. You said something and he laughed, he said something, and you covered your mouth to smile. You were blossoming in front of her eyes… He twirled you and you came smiling into his arms. There was no way this was happening…

The room around you was elegantly decorated with soft, warm lighting that cast a gentle glow over everything. The sound of a faint orchestra playing waltz music filled the air, adding to the magic of the moment. The conversation between you two flowed perfectly as if you had known him all your life.

As Aegon and you danced, your eyes were locked intently onto each other, and it would feel as though you were the only two people in the room. All of your surroundings melted away, leaving only you two standing in a quiet, intimate bubble. The sensation was both exhilarating and calming at the same time, like you were soaring above the world and yet completely grounded in the moment.

As you moved around the room, you felt completely at ease in Aegon's arms, as if you had been dancing together for years. You were smiling openly, feeling completely vulnerable and yet entirely safe with him. It was like a moment of complete surrender, where you allowed yourself to be swept away by the music, the moment, and the man holding you.

There was no need for words - no need for anything but the music and the twirl of your bodies as you moved together. It was simply a moment of pure joy and connection, where everything else faded away or frozen in time and nothing mattered except the two of you dancing in perfect harmony.

One of the hosts announced the time to switch partners and so you did unwillingly. Your eyes trailed back to him as he did yours. Whatever drunken trance you were in came to a halt when you looked at Rhaena. She was staring at you confusingly along with several other members of court completely sobering you up. As the partners switched again you felt panic set in and your breath became heavy.

You ruined it, you ruined Rhaena’s night. The walls in the room started to close in on you, slowly suffocating you. Everything that left you in a daze now was making you panic. It felt as if you were drowning in a sea of people, noise, and lights. Your head began to spin and an ache that wouldn’t go away beat at your skull. What would your husband say? What if he found out you were enjoying time with another man? What did all the people of the court think?

Your hands began to tremble as your partner spun you to another person. Your heart palpated to the best of the music. More eyes were on you, furrowed brows and questioning gazes blocking your vision. You forcefully broke free of the grasp your partner had on you and took off towards the exit.

The cool air from the snow surrounded your body and took away its heat. The quiet sounds of the wind light blowing eased the intense beating of your heart. A few deep breaths pulled you out of your head and back into the moment… It was time to go home.

Except the man that haunts you wasn’t letting you go that easily. You glanced behind you at the sound of the door being shut. Good gods, there was no escape for you. His good eye was plastered with worry and his other had a subtle sheen to it. “Are you alright? Did something happen?” He took three steps towards you until stood right in front of you. The skirt of your dress touching his legs. “N… No, I just needed air.”

One more step forward and your bodies were nearly pressed against each other. Your eyes widened and the racing of heart began again. Although this time it was not out of sheer panic. “I do not wish to see you so distressed after being with me.” You stepped forward and grabbed him by the wrists. Your thumb gently rubbing his hands, “No! Not you at all!” You spoke a little too loudly eliciting a smile from him. Your eyes trailed down to your shoes, “My apologies. I just meant my time with you was the opposite of distressing.”

A finger to your chin turned your gaze back up to him. Your gut twisted around itself trying to keep your nerves at bay. “I enjoyed it too.”

As you stood in the dimly lit balcony, the air electric with anticipation, your eyes locked in a silent conversation of mutual desire. Aegon took one step closer, inhaling deeply the scent of your jasmine perfume mixed with your natural perfume. Your nervousness was palpable as he gently reached out to lift a strand of your hair running down her face. With a slight smile, “your hands are gentler than I imagined.”

As his lips drew closer, your breaths quickened, hot and labored. “Only to those I desire.” The world around you once again melted away while you were in his arms. Your eyes fluttered closed as your lips finally met, tentatively at first, then with an urgency that surprised you both. The touch of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine as you leaned into each other, deepening the kiss. Time seemed to stand still for those few precious, unforgettable moments, each touch and sensation seared into your memories forever.

Until you heard a gasp and turned to see the look of betrayal and disgust on Rhaena’s face. Accompanied by a supremely amused grin on your brother's face. It was as if he was saying ‘Good job! You’re just as bad as the rest of us.’

You didn’t say any goodbyes. You quite literally ran off with Jacaerys right behind you. It was your greatest flaw; you ran when faced with conflict. Once he caught up to you, he chose to spend the night laughing and reveling in your mistake that was just as bad as his own.

Though he did his best to reassure you. “It was nothing but girlish affections that weren’t reciprocated, she’ll be over it in a moon.” This was quickly followed by, “it is no wonder you seek out affections from dashing officers considering your husband is a dull cunt who doesn’t fuck you.” That gained him a slap which he quickly recovered from. “I'm just saying dear sister, unlike many you have more reason than most to make a little lapse in judgment. Do not fret over it anymore. I'll handle this like you handled me.”

“You’re a horrible influence. This is precisely why Luke and Joffrey are no longer allowed to visit without mother.” In the eyes of many you had dishonored your husband and yourself… In the eyes of many you were a bad friend, sister-in-law, wife, daughter and mother. It was too embarrassing to stay here any longer. So, you did what you did best and ran away.

The train carriage was dimly lit by a small lap you were using for “reading.” Your mind was unable to take in any word you read. You flipped the page back over and let out a sigh trying to focus.

Your gaze moved to the window, a sudden chill creeping down your spine. You could not see the outside, only the betrayed face of Rhaena. The guilt was slowly eating you alive leaving no room for forgiveness. Why did you do that? A question you had repeatedly asked yourself and the answer your heart gave was not good enough.

You did it because it felt good. You did it because you felt like yourself again. You did it because he was enjoyable to be around. You did it because you liked him. Your heart proved itself to be selfish and inconsiderate. It wasn’t right but it didn’t feel wrong until the end… Your emotional turmoil could no longer be chalked up to your “mental ailments”. It was just you this time, only — digging herself an early grave.

The train clanked to a halt at a little station where you are to change cars. Everyone began to emerge from the carriage and into the fresh, cold air of Moscow. The wind blew snowflakes on your skin reminding you that you’re almost home. Here and there, people are talking, smoking and laughing and you feel a little better.

Peace was obviously not something you could hold onto as a man in a greatcoat and military cap emerged from the gloom. Your breath hitched in your throat as he saluted you. With a genuine grin, “Can I be of service to you?” You breathlessly replied, “Aegon? I didn’t know you were… Why are you leaving?”

“You know why. I have to be where you are.” The boldness of this man perplexed you. Your shock turned to fake anger, “This is wrong. If you're a good man, forget everything that happened, as I will.” He stepped closer, “I'll never forget a single thing about you, not a word, not a gesture—” You quickly spun on your heels before any more mistakes could be made. “Please behave.” You quickly ran into the train car and locked yourself in a carriage; alone.

You didn’t sleep well that night. Your thoughts were too focused on the man in a few carriages away from you. As the train pulled into the icy St. Petersburg train station, you peered out your window, anxiously scanning the platform for any sign of your husband Aemond. The snow was falling in thick flakes, muffling the sounds of the bustling station and adding an eerie hush to the air. As the train came to a halt, you scrambled to gather your belongings, your heart pounding with anticipation and a creeping sense of unease.

Stepping off the train, the frigid air hit you like a wave, and you shivered despite your heavy coat and scarf. Your eyes scanned the crowded platform, searching for Aemond’s familiar face amidst the throngs of people. Suddenly, you spotted him, standing stoically among the bustling crowd. Relief washed over you, but as you made your way towards him, an unfamiliar feeling of disquiet grew in the pit of your stomach.

As you drew nearer to him, you tried to push the feeling aside and embrace the warmth of his arms. But as you stood there in the chill of the St. Petersburg train station, your mind couldn’t help but wonder what other anxieties may lie ahead. “How is Jaehaerys?” You pulled away from him. He lightly chuckled to himself, “oh? is that all I get? Yes, he's quite well.”

“Brother.” As you embrace your husband, feeling safe and content in his arms, you suddenly hear a familiar voice coming from behind. It's the voice of the man you kissed, and it catches you off guard, sending a wave of anxiety and nervousness through your body. “Aegon. What are you doing here?”

You try to maintain composure and behave as normally as possible, forcing yourself not to turn around and face him. Instead, you cling tightly to your husband's side, relying on his steady presence to keep you grounded. “My station has recently been moved. I’ll be staying here for a while.”

“Hmm.” As you stand there, your mind racing with the possibilities and implications of the situation, you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. You know that you need to act carefully and avoid any suspicious behavior that might give away your secret. “Did you have a good journey Madame?”

Despite the fear and discomfort that is coursing through your veins, you take deep, calming breaths and keep your gaze fixed on Aegon. “Yes, quite comfortable, officer.” Aemond tensed as he stared in his brother's eyes. “I have to get back to the committee… it was good to see you.”

He turned to walk you back in the direction of your home and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “The pleasure was all mine, brother!” His grip on your hand tightened and you swore you saw his jaw clench.

You glanced back one more time to see a grin you could only describe as mischievous gracing his features. He spoke no words, but his body told a thousand. Aegon would not behave so long as he was in St. Petersburg.

#aegon targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon x you #aegon x reader #aegon fluff #aegon angst #aegon fic #aegon ii #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fic #aegon ii x you #aegon ii x reader #hotd au #hotd fic

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mermaidsirennikita · 4 months

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I think what's often missed in the "why can't we play with genre and not write romance with an HEA?" conversation is that a lot of people defending the HEA are heavy romance readers who are very aware of the amount of money involved, and how the authors who pop off about wanting to be able to label their non-romance books romance are in fact... thinking of money.

Not solely money, of course. And that's not meant to be a critique--I'm a writer, I'd love to write books for a living someday. Money is important. I'm all about getting money for your work, and I've never begrudged anyone for writing to market, writing to catch a trend, whatever. Sometimes it can turn out badly, but if you want to make money it does have to happen (and often writers write to market, get big, and then write what they want... see Ali Hazelwood's Bride) and as long as you are writing a good product and enjoying yourself... I don't see the issue.

BUT. Romance is extremely commercially viable, and it has been especially for the last few years (though that hype has to die down at some point, dude--and I think the shift to romantasy is probably like, the last breath of the current boom, and romance will go back to its normal levels of popularity, which are still more commercially viable than many other genres). So when people (like me) see writers going "but why CAN'T I label my love story that doesn't have an HEA 'romance?"...

I mean. We know why lol. We aren't idiots. Why is it so important that your fantasy novel is placed on the romance shelves, in the romance categories on Amazon? Is it because these authors have a deep and abiding love of romance and just want to sit with the cool kids? Is it because their hearts beat for romance, and even though they wrote something that is not a romance (the thing their hearts beat for) they just are desperate for it to be there? Is it because they are SO DEDICATED TO THE CRAFT OF WRITING and SO EDGY that they MUST change genres, they MUST break CHAINS!!!!

No lol. It's because when you write a romance, you are much more likely to be recommended by the BookTok girlies reading ACOTAR (and say what you will.... those books do by and large, I believe, have HEAs for pretty much all of the core couples). You want that Fourth Wing bread. You are more likely to have access to an audience that spends more than other audiences do. You want access to an audience that also is, let us be real, less likely to be real misogynistic about your book than certain subsets of the fantasy readership.

And the thing is--sure. A lot of readers sincerely don't care. And good for you, why did your book need to be labeled a romance the--oh, wait. I see!

But the readers who do care and spend like, anywhere from $1.99-$35.00 on your book (look dude, I'm thinking about preordering a pretty copy of the next Kerri Mansicalco, and I feel a LOT BETTER about spending that money because she specifically referencing HEA's when announcing her adult titles, and I APPRECIATE THAT A LOT ACTUALLY) only to find out that it's not the thing they expected... It doesn't follow the ONE RULE you expected it to follow because of how it was marketed...

The only time I've kinda come close to having that happen is actually when I read that book the new Anne Hathaway Harry Styles fanfic movie is based on. I was verrrry new to going back into the romance genre, and I read it expecting, based off the premise, that this was a fun, maybe a little silly, sexy book about a woman falling in love with fake Harry Styles. And she does. And guess what? At the end they rather randomly and suddenly break up.

And it kinda sucked.

It's also going to suck to see that book marketed as a romance as the movie comes out, but there you go, I've spoiled you, HORROR OF HORRORS I let you know that the thing you think is gonna be a fun little romance with a happy ending.... is not.

But yeah dude, imagine if I'd spent ACOTAR or Fourth Wing or Princes of Envy money on that book. I already felt kinda dumb for spending what was probably $8ish? It was a kindle copy. I could've gotten a fry-less sandwich with that money, back then!

So yeah. I just think that a lot of people want to be very condescendingly high-minded about PUSHING GENRE BOUNDARIES. And it's like... dude. Do you not think I would get my head bitten off if I went "well, I want to write a fantasy novel, but I don't want there to be magic... I actually want it to be revealed that everything is just run by computers the whole time, and the magical spell was actually a hologram, and I want that to be shelved and sold as fantasy"?

Yeah. Because I'm basically tricking people out of their money, lmao.

#romance novel blogging #idk it's just that there are certain STRICT ELEMENTS people buy when they invest in certain types of fiction #and the HEA is the one that people seem determined to subvert #i also think there's a lot to be said about how we think the only way we can subvert and play with genre #is by getting rid of a genre's basic rules #i mean dude i think you can play on a lot of sci-fi cliches without getting rid of the sci part

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lifeofresulullah · 1 month

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The Life of The Prophet Muhammad(pbuh): The Assignment of the Duty of the Prophethood and First Muslims

Declaration of the Prophethood and the First Phase of the Call

A religion that would address all of humanity and embrace the entire world was not going to remain a secret for too long. Since this religion was being sent as the means through which humanity could attain both worldly and spiritual peace, it was necessary to openly convey this message to the people.

Allah has attributed everything in the universe to the law of gradualness. Those who do not submit to and abide by this law will undoubtedly become unsuccessful in due time.

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) complied with this law upon receiving a mandate from Allah. He did not openly inform the people of his prophethood and Islam for a period of three years. He was incredibly cautious and prudent in delivering his message and explained the situation only to those he fully trusted.

We see that his decision was the cause for Islam’s success. Within the three-year period of the Era of Secret Conversions, many people took their place within Islam and strengthened his cause.

After the three-year period ended, there was no further reason for this invitation to remain a secret. The polytheists of the Quraysh had more or less heard everything and the Islamic cause had garnered much strength through many people. By virtue of this, the time had come for the call to Islam and the realities of Tawhid (the doctrine in the belief of Allah’s oneness) to be openly announced to the entire world.

The Invitation to his Close Relatives

Allah informed our Holy Prophet (PBUH) through revelation on where he should begin to openly deliver the invitation:

“And admonish thy nearest kinsmen”

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) knew that this undertaking would not be easy. For this reason, he did not leave his house for some period of time. During this period, he called Hazrat Ali and said to him: “Oh Ali, Allah orders me to warn my closest relatives of the punishment in the hereafter and this is very difficult for me. I know very well that I am going to see them attempt to make accusations against me in regards to something that I do not like once I mention this matter to them.”

We see that our Holy Prophet (PBUH) was worried that he would be subjected to accusations made by his relatives once he began to openly explain his cause to them. For that reason, he deemed it appropriate to stay in his home for some time and think everything through. When Hazrat Safiyya saw that he had been absent and had not left his home for a long period of time, she went to go visit him along with his other aunts to learn about his condition. Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) said to them, “I have no complaints about anything and I am not ill. However, Allah has commanded me to warn my closest relatives of the punishment in the hereafter. I want to gather the Sons of Abdulmuttalib and invite them to testify to Allah.”

His aunts answered, “Invite them, but never dare try to invite Abu Lahab because he will never accept.” Following this, they said, “After all, we are women” and left.

Organizing a Feast!

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) then said to Hazrat Ali, “Prepare a meat dish that is enough for only one person and fill a cup with milk. Then gather the Sons of Abdulmuttalib, I want to talk with them. I am going to notify them with what I have been commanded to say.”

Hazrat Ali immediately fulfilled his order.

When morning came, all of our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) uncles, including Abu Lahab, who had not been invited, and two women amounting to a total of 45 individuals, convened in Abu Talib’s home.

A Miracle

The meat in the pot was only enough to fill one person, and so was the cup filled with milk.

The Master of the Universe (PBUH) broke the meat into pieces and said to those who were attending the feast, “Bismillah (In the name of Allah, the Most Merciful, the Most Compassionate), help yourselves!

Everyone at the feast ate from those pieces of meat until they were full. Lo and behold! What did they see? The meat remained in its place with very little missing from it.

They were amazed and began to drink from the cup filled with milk. They drank till they were satiated and they saw that the milk had not decreased. They were astonished!

After the meal was completed and just as our Holy Prophet (PBUH) was about to speak, Abu Lahab intervened and addressed the crowd: We have not seen such an instance of black magic until now. Your friend has cast a great spell upon you all.”

Afterwards, he went as far as to affront the Master of the Universe (PBUH) and bellowed loudly so as to disrupt the crowd.

The crowd dispersed before our Holy Prophet (PBUH) had the chance to speak.

The Second Visit and Allah’s Messenger’s Address to his Relatives

After that inconclusive feast, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) arranged another event and gathered his relatives through the means of Hazrat Ali.

He rose to his feet after the meal finished and said: “Praise should only be given to Allah and I praise Him. I only seek help from Him. I believe and trust on Him. Just as I am undoubtedly aware of this fact, I also make known to you that there is no god other than Allah. He is One and there is no being similar to Him.” Afterwards, he disclosed his purpose:

“Surely a person who is sent to go look for pasture would not lie to his family. By God, even if I were to have lied to the rest of humanity, I still would not have lied to you. Even if I were to have deceived everyone else, I still would not have deceived you. I invite you to testify to Allah who is the Only True God. I am His Messenger, who has been specifically sent to you, the community, and all humanity.”

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH) continued to speak:

“By God, just as you fall asleep, you will also die, and just as you wake up from your sleep, you will also rise and be accounted for all of your actions. You will be rewarded for your good deeds and punished for your bad deeds. As a result, you will stay forever either in Paradise or Hell. You are the first from among the people that I have frightened with the fear of punishment in the hereafter.”

When our Holy Prophet (PBUH) finished speaking, Abu Talib rose to his feet and said, “We will help you lovingly and sincerely. We have embraced and accepted your advice and have affirmed your words. Those who have gathered here are the sons of your grandfather. Consequently, I am one of them. I swear that the person to run the quickest among all those who run to fulfill your goals will be no other than me. Continue doing what you have been commanded to do. By God, I will not refrain from surrounding and protecting you for the slightest moment. However, my soul does not obey me to abandon the religion of Abdulmuttalib. I will die as a follower of his religion.”

His other uncles also affirmed his words and did not say anything to displease our Holy Prophet (PBUH). There was only one exception, and that was Abu Lahab, who had opposed to the Islamic cause from the very beginning. He leaped forward and said, “Oh Sons of Abdumuttalib, by God this is a misfortune. Dissuade him from this before others hinder him. If you are to obey him being, you will be subjected to mortification and defamation; if you try to defend him, you will be killed.”

The brave answer to the most savage enemy of Islam came from Hazrat Safiyya: “O, brother! Does it suit you to leave your brother’s son and his religion helpless? By God, the living scholars say that a prophet is to emerge from Abdulmuttalib’s progeny. He is that Prophet!”

Abu Lahab arrogantly replied to his sister’s noble words: I swear that this hope is in vain. Besides, a woman’s words are at the level of an obstacle and a chain that is attached to a man’s foot. When the families of Quraysh and the entire Arabs riot together, what power will we have to resist them? By God, we are like a morsel that can be easily swallowed for them.”

Abu Talib was immensely annoyed by Abu Lahab’s words. “O coward” he said, “By God we are going to help and protect him as long as we live.” Afterwards, he turned to our Holy Prophet (PBUH) and said, “Oh my brother’s son, let us know when you want to deliver the invitation so we can be armed and emerge together with you!”

“Who will Help me?”

Our Holy Prophet (PBUH), who had only listened to all that was being said up until that point, rose to his feet and said: Oh Sons of Abdulmuttalib! By God, I do not know anyone else from among the Arabs who has brought something that is more auspicious and superior than that what is most beneficial for both your life here and in the hereafter, which I have brought to you. I invite you to testify to two words that are easy on the tongue and that weigh heavily on a scale: Ashhadu anlaa ilaaha illallaahu wa ashhadu anna muhammadar-rasulallah (There is no god but Allah, and Muhammad is his messenger.) Then, he asked, “In that case, which one of you accepts to become my helper and vizier by following me on this path?”

Nobody uttered a sound. All heads were bowed towards him. They were unable to find the strength to look at Allah’s Apostle (PBUH). However, there was only one person who looked very carefully into our Holy Prophet’s (PBUH) eyes. And that person was Hazrat Ali, who was only 12-13 years old at the time. He rose. However, our Holy Prophet (PBUH) told him to “sit down.”

The Master of the Universe (PBUH) asked his question thrice. And only Hazrat Ali replied each time: “O Allah’s Apostle, I will help you although I am much younger than them all.”

Some pursed their lips upon hearing these words, some were amazed, and some jeeringly smiled. Afterwards, they left the meeting without taking the meeting seriously.

Hazrat Ali’s heroism and bravery at a young age made our Holy Prophet (PBUH) immensely happy. He was not sad or in despair since he could not get the result he had wished from the meeting. Only Allah could give guidance.

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auliasalsabilamp · 9 months

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Semakin Tersembunyi Semakin Baik

"Ali bin Abi Thalib berkata: Rasulullah Shallallahu'alaihi Wasallam bersabda: 'apa yang paling baik bagi wanita?'. Lalu Ali tidak tahu harus menjawab apa. la pun menceritakannya kepada Fathimah. Fathimah pun berkata: 'katakanlah kepada beliau, yang paling baik bagi wanita adalah mereka tidak melihat para lelaki dan para lelaki tidak melihat mereka'. Maka aku (Ali) sampaikan hal tersebut kepada Rasulullah Shallallahu'alaihi Wasallam. Lalu beliau bersabda: 'sungguh Fathimah adalah bagian dari diriku, semoga Allah meridainya"

(H.R. Ibnu Abid Dunya)

muslim.or.id.

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sivavakkiyar · 4 months

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amongst examples of Palestinian-Kashmiri solidarity and connections, surely Edward Said’s deep and abiding love for Agha Shahid Ali’s poetry and work is one of the smallest ones. Not because Said didn’t do much for him; just that a drop of rain looks small next to an ocean. Maybe it’s not impressive in another way: Agha Shahid Ali produced one of the most beautiful volumes of poetry to be written in the geographical location ‘USA’, and definitely the finest in South Asian American letters. So everyone really loves him, when they read him.

Thinking and comparing both, reading both, there’s another way in which they’re similar: against all stereotypes, all claims by Zionists, Said does, in fact, take violence against Israelis seriously, never wanting to say that the loss of life is acceptable. Commendable, admirable: you can see what it did for him and his reputation, no quarter. Similarly Agha Shahid Ali, against all tantrums and claims by the bhakts, so seriously takes the situation of the Kashmiri Pandits, frequently addressing them—-more, frankly, than Hindu Indian writers have ever done (why bother? More useful as instruments). Maybe it’s childish to ask for ‘credit’ for examples of humanity—-it’s definitely worse than childish, on my part, to be disappointed when it’s not offered by people who daily commit to showing that if they had any, they don’t want it even for themselves.

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altinovaguncel · 2 years

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Din Görevlilerinden Müftü Eren’e veda programı

Altınova İlçe Müftüsü Recep Eren’in İstanbul Bayrampaşa İlçe Müftüsü olarak atanması nedeniyle ilçedeki din görevlileri, vefa ve veda Programı düzenlendi. Altınova İlçe Müftüsü Recep Eren’in İstanbul Bayrampaşa İlçe Müftüsü olarak atanması nedeniyle ilçede görev yaptığı müftülük personeli, imam hatipler, müezzin kayyımlar ve Kur’an Kursu Öğreticileri vefa ve veda Programı…

View On WordPress

#Abid Duman #Ali Özdoğan #Altınova #Bayrampaşa #Hacı Tevfik Yılmaz Cami #Kaymakam #Kur&039;an-ı Kerim #Müftü #Recep Eren #Regaip Ahmet Özyiğit #Yalova #İstanbul

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sexcxsblog · 1 year

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NASIL BAŞLADI-8

Aradan haftalar geçmişti. Sonradan esip gürleyen Fikret abiye bu kadar değer veren babamın bu şekilde davranmasının sebebi Fikret abinin yani Muzaffer amcaya olan borcuymuş. Abimden Fikret abinin evlendiğini duydum babama anlatırken. Babam

-az kalsın bizim orospu yakıyordu çocuğun başını ya görüyor musun

-sorma baba allahtan kapandı bitti konu. Ama bunu derken samimi miydi değil miydi anlayamadım. Çünkü abimin yanında bile beni sikmiş nispet yapmış ve abimin delikanlılığına laf etmişti çoğu kez o yüzden de eskisi kadar buluşmuyorlardı. Sadece eve Mesut abi ile Ali abi geliyordu. Onlardan olaylardan bir haberdi. Babam duyulursa senden bilirim Fikret evlendiririm deyince Fikret abi kimseye söylememişti. Beni siktiğini Mesut abi ile Ali abi zaten biliyordu orası ayrı. Zamanla bana yaklaşımları da aynı oldu babamla abimin yine hizmetçiydim. Abimin arkadaşları da evden çıkmaz olmuştu. Sebebi tabiki beni sikmekti. Abim benim istekli olmadığımı Fikret abi yüzünden onla beraber olduğumu düşündüğü için bana olan kızgınlığı geçmiş arkadaşları ile vakit geçirmemde bir sıkıntı görmüyordu. Belki diğer ihtimalle arkadaşlarının benim videolarımdan haberi olduklarını bilmiyordu. Onlara Fikret abiden çok güveniyordu yaşıtlarıydı. Yedikleri içtikleri ayrı gitmez kankardeş derlerdi birbirlerine. Tabi işin Aslı öyle değildi. Dertleri abim değil bendim. Bende uzun zamandır yarrak yemeyince bu fırsatı kaçırmak istemedim. Evde yine istediğim gibi giyiniyordum. Yaşım küçük ve abimin arkadaşlarını kardeş gibi gördüğü için laf etmezdi. Onların da beni kardeş gibi gördüğünü düşünürdü. Benim kaldığım memlekette öyleydi en azından içten birisine yan gözle bakılmaz abi kardeş derler dışardaki insanlara yeltenirlerdi. Aynı şeyi babamda düşünürdü. Ta ki Fikret abinin beni gözünün önünde sikene kadar. O evde olduğunda biraz daha kapalı giyiniyorrdum yokken açık. Abim zaten arkadaşları ile sohbet etmekten beni pek görmez görse de bir şey demezdi. Arkadaşları aynı abimin ağzı gibi bozuktu. Bu çok normaldi tanıdığım bütün erkekler hep bel altı konuşurdu. Abime kızınca bacını sikerim pezevenk ya da bacının amına koyayım küfürleri havada uçuşurdu abimde keza aynı küfürleri onlara söylerdi. Arkadaşlarının haberinin olmadığını düşündüğü için bana karşı atılan küfürler umrunda olmazdı. Geçen yine bize geldiler bende yine beyaz taytımı ve cropumu giymiş kendimce spor yapıyordum. Hava zaten sıcaktı. Kapı çaldı açtım abim ve arkadaşları gelmişti. Ellerinde içkiler vardı. Salona geçtiler. Sonra sarıldılar sarılınca memelerimin o yumuşaklığı ikisini de cezbetmişti. Sonra oturdular makara kikiri. Ben de devam ediyordum sporuma. Ordan Mesut abi

-kızım yanlış yapıyorsun o hareketi o öyle olmaz Semih niye doğrusunu öğretmiyorsun güle

-amk başka işim gücüm mü yok

-dur kız yardım edeyim ben sana. Mesut abi bana yardım ederken Ali abide bir yandan bana bakıyor bir yandan da abimle konuşuyordu. Mesut abi arkama geçti vücudunu bana yakın bir şekilde tutup belimden tutup beraber bir aşağı bir yukarı kalkıyorduk. Zamanla birbirimize yapışır hale geldik. Arkadan kalkmış sikini hissedebiliyordum. O da şort ve atlet giymişti. Elide yavaşça memelerime doğru yaklaşıyordu. Benden ses gelmeyince cesaretlenip memelerimi avuçlamaya başladı. Bir gözü de abimdeydi. Kulağıma

-of taş gibisin amına koyayım yerim bu memeleri dedi. Ali abide oturduğu yerden kuduruyordu. Abim ordan seslendi

-Mesut bırak güle yardım etmeyi içkiler için bşr şeyler hazırlayın beraber

-tamam Semih hadi gel Gül ben sana sonra öğretirim. Beraber mutfağa gittik. Dejavu Yaşar gibiydim. Arkadan sarılıp memelerimi okşamaya başladı.

-of canlı görmek bir başkaymış

-efendim abi

-yani yakından. Videodan haberim olduğunu bilmiyordu ona göre r yaptı. Arkadan da sikini bastırıyordu. Sonra ben yanında ayrılıp bir şeyler hazırladım içeri getirdim. Abimler yumuldular. Abim bana dönüp

- senin işin gücün yok mu gitsene kızım biz erkeksel mevzular konuşcaz. Ordan Mesut abi

-bırak kızı rahat nerde oturmak istiyorsa orda otursun hem yabancı mı o artık büyüdüde bilsin bu konuları dedi.

Abimde evet anlamında kafasını salladı. Bunlar bir yandan içiyor bir yandan abur cubur yiyorlardı. Konular karıya kıza geldi. Mesut abi

-abi bu aralar karıya gitmedim sevgilimde yok ama hasret kaldım. Ordan abim

-valla al benden de o kadar yarrağım patlayacak diyerek güldü. Ali abide

-valla kankalar alın benden de o kadar düz duvara tırmanıyorum amk. Bu muhabbet canımı sıkmıştı geçtim sporuma devam ettim. Onlara karşı domaldım eğildim. Onlar da gözleriyle yediler beni. Baya bir terledim. Yine her yerim terlediği için amım memem belli olmaya başladı. Uzaktan belli olmuyor ama yakından kabak gibi ortadaydı. Abim bilgisayardan bir şeyler açacaktı.

S- Kızım sen hadi geç odana biz porno izlicez

M-rahat bırak olum kızı rahat sanki yabancıyız amk

-sorma amk beraber büyüdük bacımız o benim.

S-olum saçmalamayın amk yarraklarımız çıkarıp 31 çekecez ne yabancısından konuşuyorsunuz. Abimin kafası gelmeye başlıyordu. Bana doğru bakamıyordu bile.

M-bak dalgana be olum açta izleyim hadi. Bende bilgisayarın önünde olan abimin arkasına geçtim yanlarımda da mesutla Ali var. Abim beni arkasında hissedince arkasına döndü

S-ne o kız sende mi izlemek istiyorsun

A-merak ediyor kız ya açta izleyelim. Normalde izin vermezdi abim ama içki biraz onu rahatlatmıştı. Abim en güzel pornoyu arıyordu. Mesut ile Ali abinin elleri benim bedenimde dönüyordu. Götümü okşayıp birbirlerine 👌🏻 işareti yapıyorlardı. Sanki hamur yoğuruyorlardı. Mesut abi kulağıma

-Gül daha rahat bir şeyler giysene diye pis pis sırıttı. Gittim heyecanlı orospular gibi mini etek içimde iç çamaşırı giymedim. Cropum üstümde durdu çünkü inceydi zaten. Gittim yanlarına yine aynı pozisyonu aldım. Ordan abim porno açmıştı izliyorduk hep beraber. Abim

- hadi oturun ayakta kaldınız dedi

M-yok olum böyle iyi ya

A-aynen böyle iyi kanka. Eteğimin altında ikisi de götümü mıncıklıyor amımı okşuyorlardı. Aşırı hoşuma gidiyordu bu durum. Amım sulanıyordu. Ali abi sulanmış elini ağzına götürüp yaladı. Aşırı azdırıc bir hareketti. Abim odaklanmış porno izliyorlardı. Bi an orda olduğumu unutup yarrağını çıkartıp sıvazlamaya başladı. Ali ile Mesut abi de ondan cesaret alıp şortlarını çıkarıp yarraklarını sıvazlamaya başladı. Ali abinin yarrağı büyük ve kalın da Mesut abininki de aynı şekildeydi. Ellerimi alıp yarraklarına getirdiler. Bende sıvazlamaya başladım. Abimden horlama sesi geliyordu. Bünyesi çok zayıf olmasına rağmen yine de içerdi. Mesut ile Ali abiye gün doğmuştu. Abimi odasına getirip yatırdılar. Salona gelince

M-gel yavrum bir tadına bakalım senin

A-ohh taze karı sikicez sonunda Mesut diye gülüştüler. İkisi de üstümde ne var ne yok çıkardılar. Sonra koltuğa oturup

M-hadi bakalım Gül hanım göster bize marifetlerini

Başladım Mesut abinin yarrağını yalamaya. Bu arada Mesut abi uzun boylu sarışın yarrağı 21 cm ali abi esmer tenli uzun boylu hafif kilolu yarrağı 22cm di. Mesut abi futbol oynadığı için her yeri kılsız Ali abi ise tam tersi kıllıydı. Neyse önce Mesut abinin yarrağını yalayıp sömürmeye başladım ve ağzıma boşalttım. Sonra Ali abinin yarrağını yalayıp boşalttım.

M-Gül sen neymişsin be

A-tam bir orospu gibi yalıyor kanka. Ellerine içkileri alıp içmeye başladılar sonra yarraklarına döktüler.

M-ya pardon Gül yanlışlıkla döktük temizler misin dedi gülerek.

Bende yarrağına dökülen içkiyi yalayarak temizledim. Sonra ali abininkini de yalayarak temizledim. Yarrakları sertleşmiş girecek delik arar gibi dikilmişti. Ali abi kalktı beni kucağına aldı oturdu koltuğa.

A-şu memeleri yalamazsam ölürüm. Memelerimi ağzına sokup ısırmaya emmeye başladı ama nasıl emmek. Morartıyordu memelerimi.

A-kız ne ara büyüttün memeleri kocaman olmuşlar ağzıma sığmıyorlar

M-Fikret azgını büyütmüştür kanka dedi gülerek. Sonra ters bir bakış attı Ali abiye amk ne yapıyorsun diye. Bende

-Fikret abinin beni siktiğini bildiğinizi biliyorum abilerim grubunuza atıldı videolarım o yüzden dert etmeyin hatta Şuan yaptıklarımızı atında kıskansın Fikret abi intikam alın dedim. Ordan Mesut abi kamerayı açıp Ali abi benim memelerimi yalayıp yutarkenki anı çekti. Sonra Mesut abi amıma eğildi

M-ölünür bu ama amına koyduğum fındık gibi amın var nasıl sikti bu Fikret seni hiç açılmamış

-onun yapamadığını siz yapın sikicilerim

M-emrin olur orospu. Başladı yalamaya hem memelerimin hem de amımın yalanması acayip zevk veriyordu.

A-olum çekilde bşraz ben yalayım şu taze amı

M- doyamıyorum amk bu nasıl am

A-hadi çekil çekil diyerek Mesut abiyi itti. Mesut abi tekrar videoyu başlattı ve Ali abi şapır şupur amımı yalarkenki anı çekmeye başladı.

A-lan olum bunun götü hala bakire

M-bize mi bıraktı Fikret

A-olum saçmalama günahını vermez o bize ohh iyiki sikmemiş açılışı ben yaparım.

M-niye sen amk

A-olum sen amını sikersin

M-sikilmiş amı sen sik ben götünü bozmak istiyorum.

A-taş kapıt makas yapalım kazanan götü bozar. Aralarında taş kağıt makasa yaptılar ve Ali abi kazandı. Önce bir güzel yaladı deliğimi sonra masanın üstündeki vazelini aldı deliğime sürdü.

A-bak güzelim başta çok acıyacak sonra alışacaksın ama çok zevk alacaksın tamam mı. Ben başıma geleni az çok tahmin ediyordum ama bu kadarına beklemiyordum. Ali abi önce teker teker parmaklarını soktu sonra yarrağını yavaş yavaş sokmaya başladı. Mesut abi de video çekmeye devam ediyordu.

-Canım çok yanıyor Ali abi amımdan sik nolur

A-sus lan orospu dediğin sadece amdan mı sikilir hem oraya da sıra gelecek merak etme. Sonra bşr den o koca yarrağı götümün en dibine soktu. Ben bir çığlık attım. Götüm yarılmıştı sanki.

A-sustur şu orospuyu Mesut

M-o iş bende kanka. Yarraağını soktu ağzıma nefes alamıyordum. Götüme giren yarrağa alışmıştım hoşumada gidiyordu bazen götümü ben ileri geri yapıyordum.

A-bak orospu güzelmiş dimi

M-kanka tost yapalım mı orospuyu. Aynı anda iki erkek tarafından sikilecektim müthiş bir heyecan vardı. Mesut abinin kucağına oturdum amıma soktu ah diye bağırdım.

A-bu ne amına koyayım ha her sokuşta bağırıyor ciyak ciyak

M-abi amı dapdar sanki hiç sikilmemiş gibi sıcacık orospunun

A-götü de öyle kanka.

Ali ile Mesut abi çak yapıp gülerek beni pompalamaya devam ediyordu. Aşırı zevk alıyordum kaç kere boşaldım hatırlamıyorum. Onlarda 10 dk sonra boşaldı içime. Amımdan ve götümden döller akıyordu. Mesut abi bunu da çekip gruplarına attılar. Ben dölleri elimle ağzıma götürüp yaladım.

M-beğendin mi Gül döllerimizi

A-merak etme seni döle doyuracaz. Ben kalkıp duşa girdim üstüm başım döl olmuştu. Abilerim de arkamdan geldi.

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