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scarlet-star-witch · 6 months ago

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You were my man and I your girl

Aemond Taragryen x female reader

Summary: Facing the news of her impending betrothal, she makes a final, desperate act of rebellion. Though when she discovers she is to marry her dear uncle, the man she has longed for since childhood, she realizes she may have ruined their marriage before it even began

Word count: 17.5 K (I need help)

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff, Aegon being kind of a good brother, men having the audacity, jealous Aemond, reader is Rhaenyra's daughter, but no mention of who her father is

“What?”

Rhaenerya winced and bowed her head at the sharp tone. She knew her daughter would not take the news lightly, but she had hoped she could understand the delicate nature of their situation.

“Darling, I know I told you-”

“Are you alright with this?” She interrupted, turning to Daemon who was sitting stone-faced, hating the news as much as she was.

He opened his mouth, most likely to spew insults about her soon to be betrothed, but Rhaenrya’s sharp glare quickly quieted him and she turned desperately to her raging daughter.

“My love, please understand-”

“What is there to understand?” Her daughter continued, her eyes wide, searing with betrayal. “You told me I would have a choice, that I would never be used as some political pawn for power.”

“We are on the verge of a succession war. We all have a duty to perform and as my heir you have your own to fulfill.”

The mention of the fight for succession, the hint as to who exactly she would be marrying did not register in her mind or it would have calmed the burning fire inside her. All she could make out in the maelstrom in her mind was that she was to be married and it was not her choice.

She remembered, just moons ago, when Jason Lannister had offered his hand. The thought of being forced into the bed of a man decades older than her, power hungry and desperate to take the titles she could give him, made her feel sick to her stomach.

“I can’t believe you would do this to me.” She told her mother, her voice sounding weaker, knowing she was facing a losing battle.

Rhaenerya’s face fell, her daughter’s words cutting her deeply, causing an aching pain to bloom in her chest.

“Please, if you would just listen, you might change-”

“I might change my mind and accept the fact that I’m to be sold like a mare?” She argued and quickly turned on her heel, storming out of the room.

Rhaenerya pinched the bridge of her nose as she exhaled loudly, her frustration clear. Daemon tapped his fingers against his thigh, his gaze remaining on the empty doorway.

“That went as well as I expected.” He spoke dryly, his expression softening slightly when he saw the tiredness in his wife’s eyes. “She’ll get over it. She’ll eventually stop arguing long enough for you to explain.”

“She’s always been stubborn, but she has never raged like this before. She’s been spending too much time with you.”

Daemon scoffed, though he couldn’t exactly deny the claim.

“If she had only let me finish, she would have been happy with the news. She used to be so close to Aemond, I know she’s always cared for him. She barely spoke to me when we left King’s Landing, she was so mad that I had separated them.”

“I still say she can do better than that one-eyed cunt.”

“Daemon.” Rhaenerya hissed, fighting the urge to smack him upside the head. “It is already done. The King has accepted the betrothal and their union will finally mend the divide between our families.”

Her breathing was labored as she raced through the halls, unsure of where she was heading. Outside, she heard Vermithor’s loud roar, her dragon sensing his bonded rider’s discomfort and anger. She had a fleeting thought of racing to her beloved dragon and flying across the sea, hiding away from her duties for the rest of her days.

The thought was quick to dissolve. She knew Daemon would catch her before she could get Vermithor off the grounds of Dragonstone.

So that left her to stew in her anger at being forced to marry a man she didn’t love and probably would never love and her hurt that her mother had broken the promise she had told her years ago as a child, that she would never be used a political pawn, that her hand in marriage would never be forced.

She briefly thought of a young boy with silver hair and quickly pushed the thought away when the ache of longing overtook her.

The thought of the old, greedy, disrespectful lord she was soon to marry made her want to throw up. This was never what she pictured for herself.

Defeated, she trudged back to her room, her head down, a picture of broken girlhood too many women in this realm knew all too well.

“Princess, are you alright?”

She perked up, her eyes meeting the caring gaze of her guard, Ser Darick, standing vigil at her door.

A twisted idea unfurled inside her, a half-hearted plan of rebellion sparked by the flames of anger that burned brightly.

She smiled, the gesture bringing one to his own lips. She had always found him handsome, many late nights had been spent with Baela and Rhaena giggling amongst each other about his broad shoulders and silken hair.

She had no deeper desires for him, that place in her heart was firmly held by the sweet boy she left behind years ago, but it didn’t stop her from noticing the way her guard looked at her. She knew he desired her and the anger inside of her left her wanting for one thing she could control, one thing the man who would soon own her would never have.

“I’m afraid I need your help with something in my chambers.” She spoke sweetly. Ser Darick nodded eagerly and he followed her inside.

She closed the door behind them, causing him to turn back to look at her, his brows furrowed in confusion as he noticed the pristine state of her chambers.

“Princess-?”

“I see how you look at me, Ser Darick.” She stated bluntly, vindicated from the way his eyes widened and averted from her gaze. “There’s not many things in my life that I get to choose and I’d like you to help me make one last choice before my freedom is taken from me.”

“I don’t understand.”

She untied the laces of her dress, allowing it to fall from her shoulders, leaving her in a sheer slip. The man before her choked on his breath, the hunger in his eyes making her heart race, she knew he wanted her. She stepped towards him, her hands running over the expanse of his chest.

“We shouldn’t. I swore an oath-”

“To protect me.” She finished his sentence. “I think this is exactly the protection I need.” She smiled cheekily.

She pulled the shift over her head, leaving her body bare to him and she knew the second he gave in as his eyes took in every inch of her body. He dropped his hand from the hilt of the sword on his hip and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against him as he crashed his lips to hers.

She smiled in between kisses, feeling like she had her power back as she undid the pieces of armor from his body.

She steadily ignored the guilt that crept through her mind, guilt for defying her mother and her duty. Moans fell from her lips as her guard took her hard and fast, his hunger for her clear in the way he held her tightly, in the way he refused to part his lips from any inch of her body.

She squeezed her eyes shut, letting the image before her melt into one of the silver haired, one-eyed man she longed for. A shiver wracked her body, her toes curling at the images she conjured in her mind.

She bit her lip, stopping herself from letting the wrong name fall from her lips as she reached her peak. As the man above her shuddered to his end, her name bellowed in the quiet room, she thought of how Aemond would sound saying her name in rapture.

As Ser Darick panted against her lips, his body collapsing against hers, she let herself indulge in the passionate touch of another and mourned for what she believed her future would hold.

Aemond was sitting stiffly in the same spot he had been for the last ten minutes, since his mother had told him the news.

He couldn’t make sense of the emotions whirling within him. Relief was the first one he could pinpoint, but it quickly turned to guilt, soon to remorse, and then to the sham of disdain he had tried so hard to feel for her since the night he had lost his eye.

Though no matter how hard he had tried to hate her like he hated the rest of her family, he found he could never conjure any for her. She never ridiculed him the way Aegon and her bastard brothers had, she was never a part of the cruel jokes and pranks they pulled on him. They were both young Targaryen’s without dragons and had found solace in their shared longing. Despite her own perceived shortcoming, she never wavered in the comfort she bestowed upon him.

She spent many nights holding his hand, reassuring him he was worthy of a dragon when the teasing became too much for him to handle. She stuck up for him like no one else ever had. She even looked down upon her own brothers, scolding them for their immature teasing and jokes at his expense.

He remembered the worst night of his life, as his family splintered with the loss of his eye and the insults he had hurled at the Strong bastards.

But he always remembered how she had tearfully screamed at her own brother for what was done to him. He remembered when hours later, she snuck into his room, hugged him tightly and told him how proud she was that he had claimed Vhagar.

He remembered how just a year later he had heard the news she had laid claim to the wild dragon, Vermithor. He wanted so badly to saddle his own dragon and make his way to her, to tell her how proud he was of her the same way she had praised him.

But his mother had never had allowed it

He could never hate her. She was never just another one of Rhaenyra’s bastard children and as much as he tried to tell himself to remain neutral, he couldn’t help but feel relieved at the news of his mother’s reluctant acceptance of their betrothal, one he had longed for but never had hope of ever coming to fruition.

“Aemond?”

His mother’s voice broke him from his thoughts and he turned his attention towards her, attempting to remain stoic so he would not reveal his true feelings about the news.

“Tell me if this is truly what you want. If not, I will tell Rhaenyra the betrothal is off.”

Panic grew at the thought of his mother, or even his scheming grandfather, taking this away from him before he even got the chance to revel in it. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter in his chair.

“It’s alright, Mother. I will perform my duty.”

Alicent smiled and reached over to place her hand over his. She adored her son and his strong sense of duty that was certainly lost to his older brother. Despite his attempts to remain stone-faced, Alicent knew her son too well, she knew what he truly longed for.

She remembered how close he had been with Rhaenyra’s eldest child and she knew how devastated he had been when she had left for Dragonstone. Aemond had refused even meeting possible suitors for years and she could see his desire to shut her down as she mentioned the betrothal.

Until she had mentioned the Princess’ name.

It had shut him up quickly and he had stayed quiet, taking in the news with a contemplative expression that was all too familiar on her stoic boy’s face.

But it was the slightest twitch of his lips upwards and the way he seemed to exhale in relief, every inch of his body losing its rigidity that told Alicent this was the right decision. Despite her ire for Rhaenerya and her children, the thought of an impending war was not something she wanted and it would clearly make her son happy, an emotion she did not often see him indulge in.

She smiled and squeezed his hand.

“They will arrive in a few day’s time. We will start preparations for the wedding as soon as possible.”

With her parting words, Aemond was left to remain sitting, leaning on his elbow as his hand covered his mouth, trying to make sense of the emotions he was feeling that were so foreign to him. He wasn’t used to getting what he wanted.

It didn’t seem real.

By the next morning, with an awkward passing smile to Ser Darick, she was headed towards the dining hall, her pace slow, as if she could delay greeting her family. She felt as though there was now an enormous target on her back, letting everyone she passed know what she had done the previous night.

“Darling,”

She startled, placing a hand over her chest and plastering on a smile as she greeted her mother stiffly.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Mother. I just… didn’t sleep well last night.”

Rhaenyra frowned and linked her arm through her daughter’s. “I know last night was difficult, but I think you’ll come around to it.”

She tensed, picturing the cruel, power hungry lord she’d be chained to for the rest of her life.

“Mother-”

“If you had let me finish, you would have heard that I have betrothed you to Aemond.”

She abruptly stopped in her tracks, almost causing her mother to trip over her own feet. Rhaenyra looked back at her daughter, expecting to see pure joy cross her features but she was confused to see the anguish in her expression.

She stepped towards her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand caressing down the length of her hair.

“Darling, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be happy with the news, I know how much you care for him.”

The lump in her throat grew so tight, she worried she’d choke to death before she could voice her mistake. The guilt that had already been lingering beneath her skin grew tenfold, threatening to knock her right off her feet.

“But… the Queen… she’d never agree.”

“She did.” Rhaenyra confirmed, still perplexed by her daughter’s reaction. “The King made his decree, something even she cannot dictate. With you as my heir, Aemond will be King Consort. I guess she realizes that was as good a consolation as she would get.”

It was real. She was to marry Aemond, the man she had longed for for years. She hadn’t even been reunited with him and she had already betrayed him.

“Mother-” She paused, taking in a ragged breath, her hand holding tightly to her mother’s arm for stability. “I… I did something stupid.”

Rhaenrya’s face twisted into an expression of concern and she quickly ushered her daughter through the halls into the privacy of her chambers. She sat on her bed, her hand held tightly to her daughter’s as she tearfully explained what she had done the night before.

The first emotion to rise was a dangerous protective anger.

Rhaenyra sprang to her feet, her hands clenched into fists and she grinded her teeth.

“If that man did anything to pressure you-”

“Mother, stop. He didn’t do anything I didn’t ask him to do.” Her daughter assured her, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment at having to explain her indiscretion.

Her words caused her mother to sigh and begin to pace.

“Aemond can never- Alicent can never know about this.”

“What?”

“This betrothal is tenuous, it took months for Alicent to give in, it took months for the decree to even make it to my father. The first sign of a crack, she’ll tear it apart, her and that lecherous father of hers.” Rhaenrya ranted.

Guilt burned through her veins, the thought that her stupid decision could ruin her family made her feel sick.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking. I just… the thought of being married to some old man-”

“Oh my love.” Rhaenyra took a seat next to her daughter, taking her hands in her, pressing a kiss to her shaking knuckles. “Do not blame yourself.”

“This was the path to peace and I ruined it.”

“You didn’t ruin anything.” Rhaenyra spoke sternly, as if speaking it into existence with her mere words. She gave her daughter a weak smile, her actions all too familiar to her. “You know I was about your age when I had the same idea of a rebellion against duty.”

Her daughter looked at her curiously, but Rhaenyra’s heavy sigh was indicative that she didn’t want to spare too many details of that fateful night when Daemon had taken her to a brothel that led her to bring Ser Criston to her bed.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that her dragon of a daughter had rebelled just as similarly as she had all those years ago.

A half-hearted plan began to form, one based on tenuous lies, but it was all she had.

“We’ll switch rotations, you’ll never have to see Ser Darick again. We’ll go to King’s Landing, you will marry Aemond and they will all be none the wiser about what happened last night.”

“Will you tell Daemon?” She asked fearfully.

Rhaenyra let out an amused huff of laughter. “Not unless you want your guard tortured and torn limb from limb.”

Sensing her daughter’s lingering anxiety, she placed a kiss on her forehead.

“No one will ever know.”

A shuddering breath escaped her. She prayed to the Seven her mother’s words were true.

Aemond stood tensely in the courtyard with his family, his hands firmly planted behind his back, the picture of royal stoicism. He just hoped no one could see how his fingers fidgeted behind his back, his nerves getting the better of him.

It had been six long years since he had seen her, since that last visit she had paid him where she had mourned his injury with him and kissed his cheek, a moment that left him wondering if he would live with a blush on his cheeks for the rest of his life.

An elbow to his side forced him out of his daze and he turned to see Aegon’s smug smirk as he gestured with his head at the oncoming carriage.

“Creaming your pants yet?”

Aemond sneered at his brother, his jaw clenching as he turned himself to face straight ahead, steadily ignoring the amused smirk sent his way at his expense.

His heart began to race as the carriage door opened, anticipation heavy on his shoulders. With every face he saw that wasn’t hers his impatience began to rise, holding back a glare to her brothers who exited first.

He didn’t pay attention as his mother and Rhaenyra greeted each other awkwardly. He didn’t spare his nephews a second look. All he saw was her. He perked up the moment his gaze found her, his lips parting unknowingly, no longer holding strongly to the passive facade he had forced all day.

She had grown into a beautiful woman in the past six years. He had pictured this moment for so long and none of his late night fantasies could ever compare to the woman before him.

He cleared his throat, straightening his posture as she stepped towards him. For years he had tried so hard to push down the feelings of longing that arose at the thought of her. For so long he had forced himself to believe she was nothing more than an enemy, a bastard girl that deserved nothing.

But as she stood in front of him now, grown and more beautiful than he could have ever conceived, he realized it was all a farce. Every hateful thought he had forced into his head about her was nothing more than a lie.

“Prince Aemond.” She greeted with a small curtsey, the small smile curling on her lips capturing his eye effortlessly.

After a few seconds, he suddenly realized he hadn’t spoken a word, a brief flash of panic racing through him at the embarrassment that he had been merely staring at her like a fool.

“Princess.” He responded slightly bashfully as he bowed his head.

The air surrounding them was awkward, both with so many things to say that had been left unsaid for years, complicated feelings that went unresolved for so long.

But they were to be married in a mere week's time. The family drama that cut through their childhood bond did not need to be addressed, they had no choice but to accept the inevitable.

He would be her husband no matter if he came to terms with the delusion he had forced for years. He would be her husband no matter if he had unlearned everything his mother and grandsire had instilled in him for years.

A welcome feast had been thrown in their honor. The table of royals had been a sight of strain as the ailing King gave his remarks to the room, welcoming his dear eldest daughter back to King’s Landing, lamenting the union of their divided family through the marriage of his first granddaughter and his second son.

The stifling tension among their family remained throughout the celebration. With the secret weighing heavily on her, she felt as though she couldn’t even spare a glance at her betrothed without choking on the intense guilt she couldn’t shake.

As the heir of the heir and a coveted Targaryen Princess, her mother’s only daughter, she was practically forced to remain on the dancefloor all night, indulging in the many noble Lords and their sons that offered their hand.

“Mind if I cut in?”

She almost audibly sighed in relief at the sound of her brother’s voice, taking the place of the obnoxious boy who had accosted her for three dances. Since the feast began, she’d been approached by more Lords than she could count.

“Are you alright?” He asked quietly as he began to dance with her.

“I’m fine.”

“You say the word and I’ll take you back to Dragonstone.”

“Jace.” She scolded, giving him a pointed look. “Don’t start.”

“I’m just trying to look out for you, Sister.” He defended. “You’re about to marry the man that tormented us as children.”

She frowned, her eyes drifting to Aemond who sat at the head table, eyeing the dancing couples with disinterest. The sight of his eye patch was like a punch to the gut, the memory of what had happened that night was enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“If I remember correctly, it was you, Lucerys and Aegon that tormented him as children.”

“He called us bastards.”

“And he lost an eye.” She reminded him tersely. “I’d say that more than evens the odds.”

Jace sighed heavily, the conversation weighing heavily on him. He wasn’t proud of his actions that night or how he had treated his uncle as children, but the guilt wasn’t enough to allow him to feel happy for this union.

“He’s different now.” Her brother mumbled. “He seems… angry.”

“Can you blame him?”

Jace sighed again to which she sent him a pointed look. It was as if it pained him to admit his guilt, to admit that their uncle wasn’t the villainous enemy he had built up in his head. He looked at his sister thoughtfully, worrying his lip between his teeth.

“Is this truly what you want?”

“What I want doesn't matter, Jace.”

“It does. Especially if you are to be married to a man that would make you miserable.”

She remained quiet, contemplating his words with confliction. Misery was never a feeling that followed the thought of her uncle. She knew their marriage could be great, that they could foster a beautiful love, but only if he let it and only if he never discovered her betrayal.

As the song ended and Jace moved from her side to spare a dance with an impatient Baela, she floundered for a moment, eyeing her brother and his betrothed for a moment, their delighted smiles, the clear fondness they held for each other stirring envy within her.

She wondered if her own marriage would bear the same smiles.

She looked around, dread settling inside her as her gaze passed over the many other noble sons that wanted their chance to dance with her. It was the last thing she wanted.

With a heavy breath, she pushed her way through the throng of dancing couples and slunk out onto the balcony, hoping no one had noticed her swift exit and moved to follow. It had been years since she’d been in King’s Landing, it seemed the novelty of her family had not waned.

It was as if everyone wanted a piece of her. She loathed it.

Only a minute later, she heard footsteps approaching and she grit her teeth, her peace seeming to be taken from her as quickly as she had gained it. She turned her head and her eyes widened at the sight of Aemond stepping out onto the balcony.

He startled slightly when he noticed her and smiled, a gesture that was weak and awkward, though it managed to bring an equally weak smile to her own lips.

“I didn’t mean to impose.” He began, sounding slightly stilted.

“You aren’t.” She assured him. “I can leave if you wish to be alone.”

He eyed her for a long moment, as if surprised by her request, but he just shook his head and approached her slowly so he was standing at her side.

“This is where I seem to find myself during these events, when I need to get away. I presume you are out here for the same reason.”

“Yes, I fear my feet have grown too tired to indulge in another dance.” She replied, hoping her words didn’t sound as dour to him as they did to her own ears.

Aemond seemed to grimace, the reminder of the many lords who had taken her hand for a dance stirring something within him he didn’t quite recognize. He didn’t care for it.

“I probably shouldn’t have left, I just…”

“Needed a minute.” Aemond supplied as she trailed off. She nodded bashfully, nervously tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, suddenly hyper aware of her appearance as she realized this was the first time she had been alone with Aemond in years.

They were no longer childhood friends, they were betrothed. It was enough to drive her nerves to a boiling point where she could no longer meet his eye.

He stepped closer to her so he was leaning against the railing next to her, mirroring her position, an act that signaled ease.

“I had an interesting conversation with your brother.”

Her eyes widened. That was the last thing she had been expecting him to say. She was surprised Lucerys even listened to her request, that he had even attempted to approach the man he had scarred.

“I have a feeling that was your doing.”

She turned her head to meet his gaze and every fear she had that she had crossed the line faded in an instant as she saw the gratitude in his expression.

“You have no obligation to forgive him.”

Aemond huffed out a laugh and bowed his head slightly. “Those were the exact words your brother said as well.”

She inwardly cursed her brother. He wasn’t supposed to say word for word what she had asked of him.

“I just wished to solve the rift in our family. We can’t very well expect a happy marriage if we spend our time hating each other.”

“I never hated you.” Aemond responded quickly, his brows now furrowed as he moved in closer to her. “I may have.. complicated feelings for your brothers, but I… I never felt any of that towards you.”

She felt her breath hitch, her throat feeling tighter, as if she suddenly forgot to breathe with him so close to her.

“Are you truly content with marrying a bastard?”

Aemond flinched, her words so unexpected, he involuntarily took a step back, asif his instincts were telling him to run far from this conversation and never look back. He spoke her name softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You’ve whispered about our parentage our entire childhood. Am I to believe the sentiment now means nothing to you?” Her voice was cutting, but not with anger. She just sounded disappointed and somehow, Aemound found it so much worse.

“I never called you- it was never…” He stammered for a moment before sighing heavily, his teeth gritting as he looked out onto the horizon, desperately trying to find the words he needed to tell her she was never a part of the ire he held for her brothers.

She watched him, a deep part of her feeling satisfaction to see him flounder as he was. She held much affection for Aemond, especially in their childhood, but his affliction for calling her brothers ‘Strong’ was always a source of hurt and caused many petty arguments between them before they had been separated.

“It was never about you.” He admitted quietly.

“They are my brothers, Aemond. I am not absolved from what you say about them.”

“But you are.”

Her breath was stolen from her at the gravity of his words, at the sincerity she heard from him. She eyed him cautiously for a long moment, trying to gauge just what she felt for the man before her now, no longer the shy and sweet boy she had once known.

She longed for him, but she wasn’t sure if the person she desperately desired even existed any more.

But with how he looked at her, how hard he seemed to be trying to appease her, left her feeling defenseless against her own fears.

“Why did you never write to me?” She asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she regretted even posing the question.

An expression crossed his face that she couldn’t recognize. He looked tortured, as if the mention of the part he played in their loss of friendship all those years ago brought him pain. The letters he received from her that were left unanswered had grated on him for years.

Years ago, he had even written a letter to her to apologize for his silence, but his mother had caught him, tore the letter to shreds and warned him not to reach out to Rhaenyra’s bastard daughter, that he would only get hurt again if he dared to reconnect with them.

“I never wished to ignore you.” He spoke softly. “It was just, after what had happened on Driftmark, my mother-”

“I understand.” She interrupted. The state of their family wasn’t the fault of themselves alone, their mothers had a complicated relationship they could barely comprehend. It was no fault of their own that they listened to the vitriol their mothers spoke in their years of hurt.

“I never wanted to ignore you.” He repeated, as if he was desperate for her to believe him.

The years of hurt that had cut her heart deeper and deeper with every unanswered letter she had sent slowly began to heal as she looked into his eye and saw the reverence with which he gazed at her.

“I am willing to put the years behind me. If we are to be married, I don’t want there to be animosity between us.”

“There isn’t, at least on my part.” He assured her, looking to her hopefully, almost holding his breath for her next words.

“There is none on mine either.”

He nodded, the relief coursing through him feeling like the antidote to the years of guilt and sadness that surrounded his thoughts of her. His gaze met hers and the small smile, more genuine than the one she had greeted him with, caused his own to grow, a gesture that was no longer forced, but now one of hopeful excitement.

The prospect of marriage no longer seemed so daunting.

In the days leading up to the wedding, they didn’t see much of each other.

She felt more lonely in the place she used to call home than she had expected. While she had her family, it was clear they were all on edge about the upcoming wedding and hadn’t exactly settled being in the Keep where the Hightower influence reigned supreme.

She found herself taking Vermithor out daily to escape the tension among her family.

The only peace she found was amongst the clouds, where the air was thinner, stealing the breath from her lungs. It was as if the reminder that there were things more dangerous than her own family was a comfort to her situation.

Suddenly, the earth shattering roar of a great beast sounded behind her, startling her. She turned quickly, her eyes widening as she saw the enormous figure of Vhagar taking to the skies, her gargantuan form heading towards her.

She watched the creature in awe, the great war dragon, centuries older than her, gliding through the skies like a beautiful relic.

“It’s alright.” She soothed the dragon below her who grumbled at the unexpected presence of another.

She kept her head turned, her eyes trailing the hulking figure that grew closer. A small smile curled on her lips as she spotted the silver hair of her betrothed atop his mighty dragon.

As Vhagar approached, their eyes met, shared smiles passing between them. She gripped onto the reins in her hands and directed Vermithor forward, her large dragon diving towards the water below them.

A trilled call from behind made her smile, knowing Vhagar was following suit. She looked over her shoulder, a warmth building within her as she saw Aemond guiding his dragon to follow her every move.

The two of them didn’t share any words as they flew together in solidarity. She laughed as Vermithor let out a grumble of content. Her dragon suddenly titled, moving in closer to the dragon at his side, almost bumping the dragon beside them.

She froze momentarily, gripping onto the reins tighter, preparing for an adverse reaction from the surly war dragon, but she could only watch in disbelief, her lips parting in awe as Vhagar crooned, a sound she had never heard from a dragon before, and bumped her head against Vermithor’s, a gesture that seemed almost affectionate.

She laughed, the warmth within her chest that had been stirring, now in full bloom. She turned to Aemond who watched the dragons with a small, amused smile. His head turned, their eyes meeting and as though a force greater than anything they had ever felt before, they couldn’t look away.

As he looked at her, that lone blue eye encroached by a softness that was so familiar to her, she felt as though she was once again face to face with that boy she had loved all those years ago.

Their wedding was a beautiful affair.

No one would know it was a union between a fractured family. Though, it seemed as though their wedding was already stitching their broken family back together. Or it may have something to do with the amount of wine consumed. She noticed Helaena smiling happily as she danced with Jace. Aegon was drunkenly laughing with Luke who was smiling awkwardly, looking as if he wanted to be anywhere else as Rhaena laughed on in his playful torment.

Daemon sat next to his brother King, his smile soft as they spoke together intently. Her mother sat with Queen Alicent, the two of them deep in conversation, their hands finding each other as they descended into bouts of laughter like they were nothing more than two young girls again.

The sight made her happy. She knew her mother missed her old friend dearly and it looked as though Alicent had missed their friendship just as deeply.

“Are you ready?”

She turned on her heel to find Aemond, her husband, standing before her anxiously, his face a mask of anxious anticipation as he held his hand out to her.

She swallowed and nodded stiffly, taking his hand as nerves as heavy as lead built within her. It was time for the bedding. Every happy thought in her head was gone in an instant as she suddenly could focus on nothing but the secret she kept from him.

As he guided her out of the hall, her eyes met her mother, her face now serious, giving her a slow, knowing nod, reminding her to stay silent, to perform her duty and act as an untouched maiden.

They walked in silence, the tension between them growing.

They had been in a daze practically the entire day, their smiles shy yet glowing as they spoke their vows in the Sept, as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.

Their true first kiss had been years ago when they were merely eight years old. She had kissed him after he had yet another unsuccessful bout in the dragon pit and had stolen a chaste kiss as she brushed the dirt from his cheeks.

She had never seen him turn so red before.

They were a long way from those innocent children they had been.

“Are you alright?” He asked, startling her out of her long lost thoughts. She looked at him and was surprisingly relieved to see he looked just as nervous as she was sure she looked.

“I am.” She assured him with an awkward smile. “Are you?”

“Yes.” He answered quickly, too quickly to portray any calmness about their current predicament.

Their hearts were racing as they stepped inside their new marital chambers. She immediately moved to the vanity, working on removing the many pins from her hair that had been pinching her all night.

She sighed dramatically as the pressure on her skull was relieved and the sound of an amused hum, an almost sounding laugh, caught her attention. She looked over her shoulder to see Aemond watching her thoughtfully.

The sight of him, the small upturn of his lips, the desire in his eye, should have stirred her own, but all she could feel was all consuming nerves.

Tonight she’d have to lie to him.

“You look beautiful.”

His words startled her, her eyes widening slightly, not having expected the compliment. She smiled bashfully, trucking a strand of hair behind her ear nervously as her gaze fell to the floor between them.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t told you that yet tonight. I haven’t told you since you’ve been back.”

She was surprised by how forward he was, his words so sincere yet so different from the man she knew stood before her.

It seemed she wasn’t the only one who longed for this marriage to be one of peace, to heal the wounds that had been so deeply ingrained in their family for so long.

He approached her slowly, the look in his eye one she had never seen before. Desire. He reached out, his hand moving to her jaw, his touch light as he held her as if he were afraid she would flee.

Her hands almost shook as she laid them across his strong chest, beginning to slowly undo the intricate buckles that covered him.

He let her undo each one, the sound of his own heavy breath betraying his nerves. Once his chest laid bare before her did he finally pull her in close to him, his gaze locked on hers as he leaned in close before finally kissing her.

He was soft, though as she responded to his kiss, he met her with fervor, portraying every ounce of pent up desire he’d unknowingly held for her for so long. He kissed her as if she were the very air he breathed.

Her mind was a mess of thoughts, swirling with desire and agony as she desperately wished his lips had been the first she kissed so passionately, that his touch that tightened on her waist as he undid the laces on her gown, were the first hands to touch her so intimately.

She couldn’t break herself from the thoughts as they moved to the bed. She couldn’t stop the heavy feeling of regret that tainted every one of his touches and fervent kisses.

Her chest heaved, her guilt portraying as nerves for a perceived first bedding. Aemond ran his hands up the length of her thighs, his touch, which should have caused butterflies to fly rampant within her, only reminded her of the man who had touched her previously.

He kissed her softly as he settled himself atop her.

“I’m sorry… this- it might hurt you.”

The claw of guilt inside her turned into a fist that clenched tightly and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“It’s alright.” She breathed out.

He kissed her again though the gesture, filled with so much affection, did little to soothe her as he intended to.

She kept her eyes on the ceiling, the guilt keeping her from looking at her husband, from seeing the eagerness in his gaze as he took her for the first time.

He eased inside of her slowly, the sound of his breath stuttering catching her attention, almost enough to incite her own arousal if her mind wasn’t tainted with worry, of suddenly being found out and ruined before she even got to enjoy her marriage.

With hatred for herself burning hotly within her she mimicked a sound of discomfort as he settled inside her.

“Are you alright?” He asked slightly breathlessly, his gaze looking down at her in concern.

She nodded stiffly, her throat tight as she met his eye. She soon wondered if the guilt would stop her breathing before he could even finish.

She tried her best to forget about the glaring guilt, she tried not to think about her night with Ser Darick, of the man who touched her before that shouldn’t have. She should’ve been in ecstasy to finally be laying with the man she had dreamed of for years, but as he moved inside her, she couldn’t help but wince, her lack of arousal keeping her from enjoying what she had desired for so long.

It at least helped with her charade of the innocent maiden who feared the marriage bed.

She watched her husband with barely contained emotion as his eye closed in pleasure, his lips parted with heavy breaths, the sound of his quiet moans had her wishing she could go back in time and never invite that Knight into her bed.

As she watched him find his pleasure, as he stuttered out her name in delight, she knew she could never hurt him. She could never reveal her secret for she could never cause him pain.

Above her, Aemond stiffened, his hips losing momentum, his grip on her hips tightening as he lost himself to his pleasure, a loud grunt falling from his lips as he reached his peak.

She exhaled loudly, an empty feeling settling within her, the guilt and anger at herself melding into self-loathing despair.

“I hurt you.” He breathed out, sounding pained as his hand cradled her cheek, his thumb wiping away the tear she hadn’t realized had fallen.

“I’m ok.” She assured her, though with how stilted her voice sounded, she knew he didn’t believe her.

He pulled out of her slowly and moved to lay next to her, his worried gaze never leaving hers. He moved his hand to rest at the back of her neck, gently urging her forward so his forehead could rest against hers.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and she felt her eyes sting with more tears, his affection stirring the loathing that lashed her like a whip.

She shook her head and leaned into him, grasping onto his hand, holding tightly.

“I wish we could have had this earlier.” She whispered, the only admittance she could allow herself.

Aemond smiled softly and kissed her again, his touch gentle and careful, as if he worried about hurting her more.

“So do I.”

He held her as she struggled to sort out of her emotions, unaware of the torment within her.

By the next morning, she woke from a tumultuous sleep to find herself alone in bed.

Her heart began to race as she propped herself up, dread coursing within her veins as she suddenly feared the worst. That, somehow in the night, Aemond had figured out the truth and left in a rage, leaving her behind before she could even enjoy what they could’ve had.

“Good morning.”

The sound of his voice broke her out of her dark thoughts and she turned abruptly to see her new husband strolling in through the open balcony doors. He smiled lightly, looking slightly bashful to see her in such a vulnerable state, as if he hadn’t laid with her just hours before.

“The maids brought breakfast.”

She nodded and moved to peel the covers off her, hiding her wince at the flare of discomfort at the back of her thigh from where she had given herself a small cut after her husband had fallen asleep, using the small wound to stain the sheets with her blood that would not fall between her tainted legs.

She stood from the bed, oblivious to how Aemond’s eye followed the length of her body with intrigue as she reached for her robe. They shared small smiles, the air of awkwardness lingering as they stepped out onto the balcony together.

She immediately moved to pour herself a cup of tea, taking a much needed sip of the hot drink, praying it would soothe her frayed nerves. As Aemond took a seat next to her, she poured a second cup, adding a spoonful of honey before sliding it over to him.

His gaze remained on her, as if in awe, as she took another sip.

Feeling his eye on her, she turned, her brows raising in question at the beseeched expression on his face.

“Is everything alright?” She asked slowly and he nodded, clearing his throat, leaning his elbow on his knee as his curled fist covered his lips, covering the smile that began to grow.

“You remembered how I take my tea in the morning.” He spoke softly.

She felt her stomach twist, this time for reasons completely different from the regret that had been staunchly drowning her since the night before.

“Of course I did.” She said quietly with a shrug. “I wouldn’t forget anything about you.”

Her words, the knowledge that she had thought of him just as he had thought of her, had longed for him just as he had longed for her all those years they were separated, had a warmth spreading through him he had never felt before.

Any trepidation he had about the marriage, any qualms he had about Rhaenyra taking her place on the throne, of his nephews back in King’s Landing, shattered in an instant. Everything else seemed so inconsequential to him now that he married her, now that he got to call her his wife.

He reached out, slightly hesitantly, his heart racing as he placed his hand over hers.

Their eyes met and it was as if an understanding passed between them, a final puzzle piece falling into place.

“Can I kiss you?”

She nodded quickly and smiled as he leaned in. Their lips met in a gentle, unhurried kiss that was filled with quiet affection, the meeting of a new husband and wife who had just come to an understanding, who had put away years of complicated feelings and settled to live as the pair of childhood companions that felt nothing but love for each other.

As he kissed her, she forced herself to move past the pain in the back of her thigh. Under his assured yet gentle touch, she forced her guilt and regret to the depths of her mind, desperate to find peace with him.

Over the next couple of months, their marriage flourished in ways neither one of them had expected. Their time spent together had seemed to heal every slight from their childhood, leaving the both of them feeling lighter, no longer shrouded in the guise of hatred.

It would take time for Aemond to come around to her brothers, but he was finding it easier to let go of the fury that used to permeate every thought of them. They were by no means friends, but it was at least becoming easier to simply look at them, to exist among them.

One morning, as Rhaenyra and Alicent took their morning tea together in the gardens, they caught sight of the newly married couple, arm in arm, barely an inch of space between them.

“They are quite the match.” Alicent remarked with a smile as she looked at her son, the easy expression on his face a far cry from the scowl that had become all too familiar from her second son.

“They are.” Rhaenyra agreed, relief flowing through her as she heard her daughter’s laugh from across the yard, watching as she leaned into her husband.

She was more than thankful her dear daughter’s secret remained.

“I am sorry I took so long to agree to their union.” Alicent admitted almost shyly. “To see my Aemond as he is now, so carefree, so… unburdened with her. I regret that my hesitation caused him to suffer for longer than he needed to.”

Rhaenyra frowned and reached out, taking her friend’s hand, curling her fingers around her own.

“There is nothing to forgive. They are happy now… we are happy now. That is what matters.”

Alicent smiled, her eyes filled with emotion she hadn’t let herself reveal for so long. She squeezed Rhaenyra’s hand in silent comfort.

“I have heard the maids gossiping. It sounds as though it will not be long until there is a new babe to care for.”

Rhaenyra’s jaw dropped, a scandalized laugh escaping her as she looked at her friend, usually so demure, in disbelief.

“Oh gods, do not let them know they are being gossiped about.”

Alicent giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.

“I would never. I do not think my son would ever return to court if that were the case.”

“They are late to every dinner. Surely they know it is not much of a secret what they are doing.” Rhaenyra commented, descending them both into laughter once more.

While the both of them laughed as though they were young girls again, the two of them couldn’t help but feel as though an enormous weight had been lifted from their shoulders, allowing them to breathe easier.

The union between their children gave them what they needed, what they were desperately hoping for. The fact that their children were just as happy with each other was everything they needed to heal themselves.

They soon lost sight of their children and, judging by the gossip they heard from the maids, they thought they preferred not knowing exactly what they were getting up to.

It was for the better because the second Aemond had enough of the desire raging through his body, he had dragged his wife back to their chambers, only a mere hour after they had left it for the morning.

He couldn’t get enough of her.

He could barely get through his day without succumbing to his fire that burned hotly for her. Their walk in the garden, their duties for the rest of the day were long forgotten as he took her roughly atop her vanity, the wooden legs shaking beneath their passionate affair.

“Aemond!” She called out, her hands tightening at the back of his head where she had fistfulls of his hair. He groaned and quickened his pace, thrusting into her with the ferocity of an animal.

Over their time together, she had been able to relax around him, thinking less and less of that horrible night with her guard that could have ruined everything. She allowed herself to fall into him, to let herself think of nothing but him, and she couldn’t have been more thankful.

He took her daily, their union fiercely passionate, the two of them quickly becoming insatiable for each other.

“Fuck, darling, you are perfect.” Aemond growled, his hips never faltering in their harsh rhythm as he took her roughly.

The way he took her now and had been for weeks was a far cry from the tepid and shy man she had seen on their wedding night.

Cries fell from her lips as she desperately held him, her only tether in the haze of pleasure he now could so easily spiral her to.

“Don’t stop.” She begged breathlessly, her head falling back to her shoulders, her eyes shut tightly as he fucked her so hard it was all she could do to hold and enjoy the ride.

“Never, my love, I'll never stop.” He promised her, the desperation in his voice clear. He panted heavily as his hips moved with precision, eager to reach that spot he knew ruined her completely.

He longed to see her unravel, he longed to hear her scream for him. It had quickly become the greatest thing he had ever been fortunate enough to witness and his greatest accomplishment.

His grip on her hips tightened, his awed gaze fluttering over her form, eager to take in every inch of her.

Her toes curled, a high pitched moan sounding as her body tensed, as she felt herself creeping up on the crest of blinding pleasure.

“That’s it love, cum for me. Do it for me, I need it.” He rambled, his voice rough, causing shivers to race down her spine.

Her nails dug into his shoulders and his answering grunt of pleasure undid her completely. She screamed his name, her hips jolting against his as she reached her peak. Aemond held her tightly, his arms moving around her back to hold him to her as his hips stuttered, becoming frantic in his final moments.

“Fuck… fuck!” He yelled as he felt her tighten around him.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, planting sloppy kisses along the delicate slope before he felt the curling of hazy pleasure unfurl within him.

His eye squeezed shut, his jaw fell slack as a breathless moan escaped him as he came. Small cries left him, his hips continuing to move, losing their intensity as he spilled inside her.

Their shared heavy breaths echoed throughout the room as neither one of them moved an inch. He continued to hold her tightly, wrapped around her completely. He shivered against her as she began to caress the length of his back, her soft hands moving up and down gently, causing him to sigh in delight.

After a few long moments, as they caught their breath, he pulled away, nudging his nose against hers, smirking lightly at the sight of her so thoroughly spent. He kissed her assuredly, his tongue tangling with hers, his touch still firm, as if he were still desperate for her.

They parted with the need for air, soft smiles shared between the two, almost bashful, as if they hadn’t just fucked debauchedly as though they were in a brothel. He pulled out of her and began to clean the mess between her thighs, delighting in the way she’d twitch against his touches, thoroughly overstimulated from his hands.

“Do you remember when you put jam in my hair?” He asked suddenly, causing her to look down at him with a raised brow in disbelief.

“You are thinking about that now?”

The childhood memory was not forgotten but she certainly hadn’t been thinking of it after he had ravished her.

“With how you were just pulling on it, I’m beginning to think you have some kind of vendetta against my hair.” He remarked with a smirk as he pulled his breeches back up and grabbed his discarded doublet that she’d torn off him.

She laughed and shook her head, her eyes trailing his every move, pouting almost reflexively as he dressed himself, covering up that beautiful body from her eager gaze.

“It is beautiful. Perhaps I am trying to sabotage you out of jealousy.” She smiled coyly.

“Jealousy?” He echoed in disbelief. “Darling, you are the most stunning woman in the realm, you have little to be jealous of.”

She felt her cheeks heat as she half-heartedly rolled her eyes. Since they had become more comfortable with each other, his compliments had been never ending, never failing to make her swoon each and every time.

“So, same time tomorrow?” She joked, to which he snorted and looked over at her, nothing but adoration in his eye.

He stepped toward her again, pulling the fallen sleeve of her dress back in place.

“Oh, darling, I will have you again tonight, surely.” He drawled, reveling in the way she seemed to shiver against him, already eagerly anticipating the night and agonizing over the hours between.

He kissed her again and leaned his forehead against hers, as if he needed a moment longer with her before parting from her side.

“I will find you once I am finished.” He assured her.

As he left her to continue with his duties for the day he had steadily been ignoring, she finished cleaning herself up and fixing her disheveled hair.

Her smile remained as she righted her dress, her legs trembling slightly as she made slow steps across their chambers. She just knew Baela would be dragging their salacious actions out of her the second she saw her.

The giddy feeling within her crumbled into dust the moment she opened the door and came face to face with the one person she was content to never see again.

Her face fell, a look of horror overtaking her features.

“Ser Darick.”

Her voice shook as she greeted him, which seemed to only deepen his smug grin.

“Princess.” He bowed dutifully. “It has been too long.”

The sarcasm that laced his words cut her deeply and she averted her gaze, her heart racing wildly. The memories of that fateful night, the guilt that she had been able to push into the depths of her mind resurfaced with the force of a punch, almost enough to knock her off her feet.

She didn’t spare the man another look as she took off down the hall, her face crumbling into a deep frown as frustrated tears filled her eyes.

He would ruin everything.

Her hand was clutched to her mother’s, her retelling of the day striking a need for her motherly touch.

“I will take care of it.”

“How?”

“I will find a way.”

She remained silent, her face twisted with fear and disgust.

“What if he knows?”

“He doesn’t.”

“You cannot know that. Why would he be reassigned to me? Surely this is some plot to ruin me.” She rambled, her worried mind not allowing her to think straight.

“The guards are spread thin here. We needed more help so guards from Dragonstone were requested here, but I… I had no idea he would be assigned to you.”

She sighed heavily, her mother’s words doing little to reassure her.

“I can’t keep lying to him.”

“Darling-”

“I love him and I can’t stand the fact that our marriage is built on a lie.”

Rhaenyra clenched her jaw, her teeth pulling her bottom lip tightly. Before she could even attempt to soothe her daughter the door opened and Daemon stepped into their shared chambers.

Both women tensed, sitting up straighter in their seats at his unexpected arrival.

His eyes flitted between both women curiously, immediately sensing the tension in the room.

“Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine, my love.”

His wife’s words did little to soothe the awkward energy in the room.

“What are you two discussing?”

“Guard rotations.”

Daemon looked at his step-daughter with narrowed eyes, the topic one he had not expected. His instincts were telling him something was wrong, that he was being lied to.

“Is someone not to your liking?”

“Ser Darick has been assigned as her guard and we hoped we could find someone else for her.”

“Why?”

“No specific reason-” Rhaenyra attempted to diffuse the situation, but he had seen right through it, he knew something was amiss.

“I don’t understand. Ser Darick was your guard for years, he was loyally by your side, he watched over you, he cared for-”

Daemon’s sentence stopped abruptly, as if he had suddenly realized the double meaning in his words. His eyes narrowed, the angry fire burning within him so hotly she had to turn away from his gaze. He looked to his wife, as if needing confirmation to the thought burning in his brain.

When Rhaenyra sighed disappointedly, her gaze moving away from his, he felt as though he had the answer to the horrible explanation he had conjured.

Within a second he unsheathed his sword, causing his daughter to flinch and Rhaenyra to get to her feet.

“Daemon-”

“Where is he?”

“You need to calm down-”

“I will strike every limb from his body and string him-”

“Please stop!” She yelled, stopping her father’s detailed description of the torture he would inflict on the man he believed to have committed an egregious crime.

“You cannot seriously be protecting the man that took advantage of you. He touched you, he raped you! He should be fed to our dragons!”

“He didn’t rape me!”

Daemon remained quiet, taking in her words slowly. His face twisted, an expression of confusion soon morphing into dread and she shifted in her seat under his intense glare.

“You didn’t.” He spat. “Tell me you didn’t.”

“Daemon, please.”

“You let that guard into your bed?”

She leaned her elbows on her knees, her head falling into her hands as she breathed heavily, embarrassment washing over her like a tidal wave that threatened to drown her. She would surely welcome it.

“It was a mistake.” Rhaenyra chimed in, trying to ease the fury in her husband.

“Of course it was a fucking mistake.” Daemon bellowed. “How could you be so simple minded?”

She raised her head, staring plainly at the man before her. She’d heard about his tales before he had married her mother, the Prince of Flea Bottom, the many times he had been banished by the King and he had the audacity to shame her about who she bedded.

“Your hypocrisy is astounding.”

“Don’t be cute.” Daemon scolded. He tightened his grip on his sword, his anger still burning. “I’m still going to kill him.”

“You are going to do no such thing. Rumors will spread if a guard mysteriously winds up murdered. We will solve this quietly and reassign him so he will never lay his eyes on you again and you will never tell a soul about what happened that night.” Rhaenyra countered, her eyes locked onto her daughter sternly.

She could only nod, the guilt she’d steadily buried in the face of her happiness, in the bliss she’d found with Aemond, now clawing its way forward, threatening to tear her apart piece by piece.

“There you are.” Aemond greeted her with a smile, bending down to press a kiss to the top of her head. Their chambers had been empty when he returned from training and he knew the first place to look for her was Helaena’s chambers.

Her heart skipped as she saw him, her mind racing, screaming at her to blurt out her secret, to spill everything that was weighing heavily on her, darkening her soul, but she found no words could escape her.

She smiled stiffly, forcefully pushing past the overwhelming regret and sadness that threatened to choke her.

“Are you finished with your training?”

He nodded as he took a seat next to her, his soft smile directed to the children who played at his feet.

“I am and I suddenly found myself in desperate need of my wife’s company.”

“Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, but we were just about to leave.”

“Leave? Where are you going?”

“We are going to the markets in Flea Bottom.” Helaena answered happily, oblivious to the way her brother’s expression darkened at her words.

Aemond looked to her desperately, as if pleading with her to tell him his sister was mistaken, that she wasn’t going to roam the dangerous streets of Flea Bottom.

She sighed, taking his hand in hers.

“She wishes to find gifts for the twins’ name day.” She spoke softly so the children would not hear.

“Send servants.”

“She wants to pick them out herself.”

Aemond exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose. He startled when his wife stood from the couch and he reached out for her hand, but she was already walking away.

“Come with us brother.” Helaena offered, oblivious to the torment unfurling in her protective sibling. “We will be taking guards, but we will be more protected with you at our side.”

She smiled widely and linked her arm through Helaena’s, looking to her faithful husband.

“Well, you heard her.”

Aemond let out a long sigh, the thought of his beloved and his dear sister venturing down the dangerous streets of King’s Landing loathsome, but with one look at his wife’s stare, he was powerless to refuse her wishes.

“Just for a short visit.”

The wide smile she gave in return was all he needed to stop himself from refusing the offer.

He followed behind the two women, their group of guards walking behind him faithfully as they made their way into the city.

Aemond kept his eyes fleeting between his sweet sister and his beloved wife as they perused each vendor they passed. He admired his wife as her face lit up at the sight of a beautiful trinket that had caught her eye. He admired the way she smiled at each vendor, politely asking them questions, dignifying their compliments about her beauty and kindness.

She was truly a marvel, the most beautiful sight to behold.

“Aemond, look, isn’t this beautiful?” Helaena called out to him, breaking him from his trance as she held up a butterfly figurine. “I think Jaehaera will find this absolutely divine, she’s always admiring the butterflies in the garden.”

“She will love it.” He assured her with a small smile, following her as the ever protective brother he was as they ventured to the next vendor, caught up with another bout of glasswork she had found.

He felt as though he had only taken his eyes off his wife for a minute when the yelling started. A fight had broken out between two vendors and the crowd around them had responded to the sudden surge of violence with equal measure.

His arm immediately went around Helaena who cowered and covered her ears as the crowd yelled and became insufferably loud. He briefly made eye contact with a man in the crowd, the lowborn recognizing the pair of royals before him and, as most disparities of power result, decided to direct his anger towards them.

Aemond guided Helaena into the capable hands of her guard as he unsheathed his sword menacingly, warning the crowd not to try their luck with the famed one-eyed dragon prince.

The crowd soon became raucous, screaming, shouting and pushing at anyone they could get their hands onto.

Aemond quickly spotted his sister being scurried away from the action, though his stomach dropped when he could not spot his wife.

He yelled her name, the sound lost in the chaos of the riotous crowd. He pushed people out of the way carelessly, elbowing his way back to where he had last seen her. His heart dropped at the sight of her absence. He became more desperate, his voice sounding weak as he stood atop a vendor’s booth, trying to catch a glimpse of her.

The longer he did not see her, the more fear encased every inch of him.

A muffled scream left her as a sturdy hand latched over her mouth, a strong arm wrapped around her waist as she was carried away from the action of the riots ensuing in the streets of King’s Landing.

She hadn’t seen Helaena or Aemond. As soon as the fighting started she had been dragged away, seemingly against her will. She had thought it was a member of the King’s Guard but as the hand stayed steadily over her mouth and the painful arm carrying her through the streets of Flea Bottom refused to recede, she became more and more fearful of who had latched onto her.

The grip on her slackened and she quickly pushed her way out of the grip, her expression a mask of derision as she faced who had manhandled her so roughly. Her face fell, an icy feeling of dread spreading through her veins as she met the gaze of Ser Darick.

He sneered and gripped her arm again, pulling her into his side.

“Stop struggling, Princess, we don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.” He warned, though it sounded more like a threat as he pulled her along with him back to the Red Keep.

She remained still, allowing him to drag her forward, her face passive as they made their way through the halls of the Keep. She felt equal parts relief and dread as he forced her into her chambers.

He slammed the door shut behind them, his face dark with anger, his hand still sturdily gripping her arm.

“You have brought me back, now leave.” She ordered harshly as she wrenched her arm out of his grip.

“Not until we talk.”

“We have nothing to talk about.”

“You invited me into your bed, let me fuck you and then ignored me. I deserve to know why.” He argued angrily. Her face twisted with derision, at the reminder of that night she had acted so carelessly.

“I am truly sorry for how I treated you, it was wrong of me to take such liberties. But the night we had was simply a night of desperation. I am married now. I love my husband and you need to move on.”

He scoffed, looking at her with nothing but derision.

“I don’t believe you.”

“What?”

“That night. It didn’t mean nothing to you. It couldn’t have.”

He stepped towards her, forcing her to take frantic steps backwards, but he was quicker. He gripped onto her shoulders, his touch strong and harsh.

“Let go of me.” She hissed through gritted teeth, her heart racing, the beginnings of dread seeping through her, chilling the blood that ran through her veins.

“I know you felt something that night. No one could fake that passion. I know you feel something for me. I know you have for years.”

Her eyes widened, staring back at the man completely dumbfounded as she squirmed under his hands.

“You have gone mad.”

“I gave you pleasure that night, Princess. I made you cum under me. I made you moan for me.” He spoke earnestly, making her wince and shake her head, desperately trying to pry his hands off her.

“It meant nothing.”

“Of course it did!”

“Get off!” She yelled as she pushed at his chest, causing him to stumble a few paces back.

The door suddenly slammed open, her breathless and worried husband storming into their chambers. He seemed to deflate in relief when he saw her, every ounce of fear dissipating in a second, though when he noticed the guard in their chambers, his expression twisted into confusion.

“Are you hurt?” He asked worriedly, stepping towards her hurriedly, assuming she had been injured in the fight and that was the reason the guard was in the room with her alone.

“No, I’m fine.” She assured him, her voice quivering.

He grabbed her trembling hands in his, looking over her in concern briefly before his untrusting eye turned towards the guard who couldn’t take his eyes off her.

The anger in his gaze did not go unnoticed by Aemond who stiffened, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip instinctively.

The guard smiled sardonically to his wife, the sight setting the blood in his veins on fire.

“Princess.” He bowed and turned on his heel, leaving the room. The fact that he did not address Aemond only angered him further.

“Who was that?” Aemond questioned the second the door closed behind him.

“He was my guard at Dragonstone.” She answered monotonously, her chest aching in fear as her waking nightmare unfurled before her.

“Did he hurt you?” Aemond’s anger flared as he looked at her questioningly, his gaze searching her frantically for any indication that her guard had stepped out of place.

“No, he didn’t hurt me.” She spoke quietly, omitting mentioning the bruises she was sure would be blooming on her arm from his harsh grip.

He stared at her quizzically, knowing deep within him that something was wrong. The look on her face, one of muted horror, was striking and the fact that she couldn’t meet his eye had worry stirring within him so strongly his hand twitched towards his sword once again, ready to strike down the mysterious guard at her command.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I-”

“Yes, you’ve said that, but I do not believe you.” He interrupted, fighting between his confusion and his worry as she flinched at his harsh tone. He wanted to reach out to her, but something held him back, something he didn’t quite understand.

She wrapped her arms around herself as she turned away from him. He called her name slowly, his critical eye never leaving her.

“Who is he?”

“He is no one.”

His heart raced and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach as a multitude of answers swirled through his mind, none of them bringing any kind of peace.

“Do you love him?” He asked abruptly, jumping to the worst conclusion he could have possibly conjured.

“No, of course not!” She yelled, perturbed by the mere question.

“Then why does he look at you as if you have a history?”

“I swear to you, Aemond, he is nothing to me.”

“So nothing has happened between you two?”

She remained quiet, her mind racing with a million different answers to the question, most lies, but only one truth, the one that spoke the loudest.

Her silence rang loud in the room and Aemond’s face shifted instantly, first to shock, then disbelief, then betrayal, and finally to fury.

“You… you and him…” He startled slowly, trying to find the words to explain the blinding anger that overtook him so greatly it soon became hard to breathe.

The images that his mind created, visions of her tangled in the sheets with that man, her soft touch on his body, her sweet moans he relished given to him.

“Aemond-”

“You fucked him?”

“Please-”

“Answer me. Did you fuck him?”

Her breath caught in her throat, her pulse pounding in her ears. Her world was crashing down around her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“Yes.” She breathed out weakly.

A bitter laugh left him, a sound filled with so much anger it made her wince, tears beginning to burn in her eyes.

“Aemond, please, I can explain-” She began as she approached him, reaching out for his hand, but he yanked his arm away from her, staring back at her with such vitriol it was as if a dagger had been lodged in her chest.

“Explain what? That you have been lying to me this entire time? That I married a whore?”

Her eyes widened, his words striking her harshly. She had seen him angry before, she had seen him vindictive before, but it had never been directed at her, he had never spoken to her with such hatred, as if he were eager to hurt her.

“It was before our marriage. I have never even looked at another man since I knew you were to be my husband.”

He shook his head, his chest heaving, an ache settling deep within him. Jealousy tore through him roughly, all he could think of was her tangled passionately with another man, and it made him see red.

She reached for him again and he shut her down with a vicious scowl.

“Don’t touch me.”

She breathed heavily, her own anger beginning to rise at his stubborn refusal to listen to her. She knew if he ever found out it would cause a rift, but she had thought after the time they had spent together, that what they shared would be too special to let a mistake from the past rupture the beautiful love they had carved for themselves.

“Are you serious?” She snapped, her patience wearing thin the longer he directed his fury towards her.

She thought of Daemon’s reaction, of Aemond’s disgusted scowl, and it made her seethe. If she had been a man no one would be batting an eye and she wanted to scream at how entirely unfair life was simply because of what lay between her legs.

“I had one night and I am penalized but you can do whatever you want with your body and I am just supposed to accept it. As if you haven’t followed Aegon to the brothels.”

“I am not my brother!” He yelled fiercely, his overt anger making her flinch.

She stayed quiet, her anger receding as quick as it had come, leaving her with nothing but guilt. She knew she had crossed a line.

Anybody could see how different the Targaryen brothers were, how much more accustomed to duty and honor Aemond was, how he refused to defile himself and shame his family as Aegon continued to do.

It was deadly silent between them, neither one of them with anything productive or relatively polite to say to the other.

With a clenched jaw, Aemond stormed out of the room without sparing her a look.

His breath left him in uneven pants as he stormed down the hall, unaware of where he was headed.

Images of her, his sweet wife, his beloved, wrapped up in another man’s arms replayed in his head torturously. He felt his eye sting with emotion he desperately attempted to hold at bay.

He loved his wife, but this was agony.

He loved her, but she had lied to him.

He didn’t know what to make sense of the situation. He didn’t even know what to make sense of what he was feeling.

He was at a loss as to what his marriage held.

The only thing he could make out in the whirlwind of thoughts was pain.

He avoided her for the rest of the day and the next, choosing to sleep in his old chambers instead of returning to her.

He couldn’t bear to face her, not after what he had yelled at her so callously, not after he had called her a whore, not after he had spent hours picturing her with that guard.

It was agonizing to think of.

He avoided dinner, giving flimsy excuses to the maids that dared to approach him.

He sat out on the balcony of his old chambers, gazing out sightlessly into the night before him. The sound of his chamber doors opening had him rolling his eye, looking over his shoulder at the intruder with a scowl.

Aegon gave him an annoyed look.

“You know you have mother worried sick? She sent me to find you, you twat.”

Aemond remained quiet as he turned to look back out onto the horizon.

“What are you doing out here?” Aegon asked as he took a seat at his side, causing him to sigh loudly, not bothering to hide his disdain for his presence. “I figured you would be busy fucking your wife. You seem to do little else lately.”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he steadily refused to meet his brother’s eyes.

“What? Has your paradise been ruined already?” Aegon joked, though when he received no reaction from Aemond, not even anger, he knew something was truly wrong. “What happened?” He asked, sounding more sincere than even he expected.

Aemond remained quiet for a long moment, dreading to say the words aloud, as if it made them more real than they already were.

“She had a dalliance with a guard.”

“She has been unfaithful?”

“It was before she came back to King’s Landing, before the wedding.” He mumbled.

Aegon was quiet for a few seconds as he took in his brother’s words and eventually shrugged nonchalantly.

“So?”

Aemond glared coldly at his brother, the flippant response sparking his fury once more.

“Finding out your wife let another man into her bed isn’t exactly comforting news.”

“It happened before she was your wife and, judging by how infatuated she seems with you, I’m willing to bet it happened before she knew you were the one she was to marry.”

Aemond sighed loudly, no matter the circumstances, no matter whatever explanation he could think of, it did nothing to quell the green eyed beast that took over him. He had grown to deeply love his wife, the girl he had latched onto in childhood, the only one who seemed to root for him.

The thought of her in the clutches of lust with anyone that wasn’t him was enough to incite his anger.

He had never had a passionate, loving embrace. He certainly didn’t count what he endured on his thirteenth nameday, the moment that brought him nothing but shame. To think that she could so easily bring someone into her bed, have someone touch her lovingly, bring her pleasure, just as he could to her, stirred a fury in him he could barely comprehend.

“So, she betrayed you, what happens next?” Aegon asked, a smarmy smirk growing on his lips, striking Aemond’s anger before he could even speak of the depravities that mingled in his mind. “How about I take you down to the Silk Street and you can get back at her.”

In the blink of an eye, Aemond was on his feet, his face drawn tightly with fury, his angry glare locked onto his brother who laughed raucously at his reaction.

“Easy!” He yelled, shoving his brother’s hands off of him that gripped his shirt, ready to throttle him. “Gods, you have no sense of humor.”

“You know you don’t have to be here.” Aemond growled, sending his brother a final fierce scowl that silently threatened him of saying anything untoward about his marriage, before settling himself back in his seat.

Aegon watched his brother carefully, noting the agony within him and he sighed.

“Look, you clearly care about her. She is your wife and you two have been able to build a bond which is more than many can say.”

Aemond looked at him, surprised by his honest words, surprised that he wasn’t slurring as he spoke.

“Are you willing to give that up for a mistake she made before you loved each other?”

He looked taken aback at the question. The mere thought of letting her go was unfathomable. The thought was so horrible it turned his stomach more than his jealousy ever could.

“I cannot stop picturing her with him.” He admitted quietly, almost shamefully.

Aegon sighed, while he didn’t have anyone he loved as Aemond loved his wife, he had to admit, it didn't sound easy to picture the woman you loved in the arms of another man.

“So, let’s say you give up, what then? She marries someone else and warms their bed instead?”

Aemond grit his teeth and sent a wicked glare to his brother who held his hands up in surrender.

“Just think about it, brother. Get over it or let her go.” Aegon stated bluntly before parting from his side, leaving him to bury his head in his hands, a long slow breath falling past his lips.

He didn’t want to let her go, he didn’t want to end what they had, he didn’t want to lose her.

He breathed deeply again, forcing the green-eyed monster within him to retreat, to let him think clearly for once.

He pictured her face, her teary eyes as she stared at him in disbelief as he threw horrible insults her way. He winced, his eye squeezing shut, as if the memory itself hurt him physically.

He had to make this right.

He stepped into their shared chambers, his body rigid with nervous anticipation. He startled slightly as the sight of her was suddenly blocked, Baela having immediately got to her feet at the sight of him, standing in front of her half-sister protectively.

“What do you think you’re doing here?”

Aemond rolled his eye, sending a glare to the stubborn woman.

“These are my chambers.”

“Are they now? They haven’t seemed to be yours the past few days.” Baela responded sarcastically, forcing him to hold back a wince at the reminder of how he’d left his wife alone and worried for days on end in his fit of anger and jealousy.

He looked past Baela to find her looking back at him worriedly, wondering if this was the moment he left for good. The sight pained him deeply and he sighed heavily.

“I came here to talk.” He spoke softly, looking past her human shield, trying to appeal to his kind wife.

“I think you’ve said plenty.”

“Baela, it’s ok.” She said softly, hoping to stop her half-sister before she ended up in a physical fight with her husband. With how angry Baela had been on her behalf she knew it was certainly a possibility.

Baela looked back at her questioningly, to which she nodded, silently assuring her she would be ok.

With a sour expression, Baela left her side, her glare darkening as she passed the one eyed prince.

“If I see any more tears fall from her eyes, not even Vhagar will save you from me.” She threatened before stepping out of their chambers.

Aemond let out a long breath. The sight of his wife upset cut him deeply, he knew he would let Baela inflict whatever pain she wanted on him if he hurt her any more.

He looked at her, subtly wincing as he noticed she was looking away, refusing to meet his gaze. He moved forward slowly, never taking his eye off her as he approached. He sat on the opposite couch, making sure to leave space between them.

He didn’t think she’d be comfortable with anything else and he didn’t think he deserved to be so close to her, not after what he had said to her just days ago.

“I’m sorry for what I said. I was angry and I took it out on you. You didn’t deserve my words.” He started quietly.

She remained quiet, her gaze yet to meet his. The longer she didn’t look at him, the quicker his heart raced.

“I want to understand. I know you have no feelings for this man, but… it may kill me, but I want to know what happened between you two.”

“Why would that change things?” She asked stiffly.

“What?”

“You know I have no love for this man, you know I only care for you. So what more do you need to know?”

Aemond swallowed against the lump that grew in his throat. Aegon’s words came back to him, that her dalliance could have happened before she even knew they were to be married.

“I need to know that I wasn’t the cause of this.”

She turned to him fully, her brows furrowed as she looked at him in bewilderment. She was sure a piece of her heart had shattered. He thought she had chosen to jump into bed with a guard because the news of her marriage to him was so horrible she was desperate to seek comfort.

She let out a shaking breath and smoothed down the skirt of her dress.

“Do you remember Lady Eleanor?”

Aemond looked confused for a moment at the sudden turn in conversation, but took a moment to think deeply before nodding.

“She was your friend when we were children.” He answered softly. “I remember I could scarcely find any time with you without her presence.”

She smiled at the onslaught of memories that rushed through her mind, all hazed in the happiness of childhood innocence, though she was quick to be reminded of the grief that rose at the mere thought of her old friend.

“She was married off to a Tully Lord. The man was older than her father. His past three wives all died mysteriously, no one dared to question why.” She explained stiffly. “I could tell from her letters that she wasn’t happy.”

Aemond watched her, frowning slightly at the dull tone of her voice, of the tortured look in her eyes, as if she was recounting something too painful to ever speak of again. He sat up straighter, longing to reach out to her, but he held back, suddenly reminding himself of the rift between them.

“She birthed him a daughter, just as his previous wives had. The next day they found her body by the river.” She spoke quietly, her voice growing hoarse with emotion. “They could barely recognize her, she was black and blue, every bone broken by his hands.”

Aemond shifted in his seat, an unsettled feeling growing within him. He remembered the annoying little girl who followed his niece around and now felt nothing but horror at the memory of her.

“Her husband faced no punishment. No one dared to question why yet another young girl was dead. I don’t even know what happened to the babe, if she-” She stopped abruptly, unable to finish the thought.

Her vision blurred with tears which only began to steadily slip down her cheeks as she felt his hand take hers, their fingers intertwining.

“His name was in consideration for my hand in marriage.” She admitted, finally bringing her gaze to reach her husband’s, immediately noticing the dread that shrouded him.

Despite the fact that they were married and had been for months, the mere prospect of her being forced into marriage with a man so barbaric left him feeling sick.

She let out a shaking breath, pulling her hand from his as she wiped her tears furiously, forcing her expression into a mask of indifference, refusing to show him her weakness.

“I’m sure that changes nothing for you, but I figured you should know.” She spoke hoarsely. “My night with Ser Darick meant nothing. I had no idea you were my betrothed. I thought I’d have one more night for myself before I was forced to be a silent, battered wife who would wind up dead in a matter of months.”

Aemond exhaled shakily, his gaze watching her curiously. Her sadness cut him deeply and while he could never understand the fear she felt, the fear almost every woman in the realm faced at the prospect of marriage, he couldn’t help but ache for her, for what she feared.

The thought of her so scared, resigning herself to be abused, forced into a marriage with a man that would treat her horribly, had his hands clenching into fists, forcing back the desire to draw blood from men that weren’t even present.

“I’m sorry.” She choked out, her teary eyes finally meeting his, causing the lump in his throat to swell.

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“No, I do. I betrayed you. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I acted as nothing more than a lowly street whore.”

Aemond clenched his jaw, a flash of pain striking him deeply. His previous words he had thrown at her in anger caught up to him, hurting him as if they had been directed at himself. The guilt that overcame him was overpowering, enough to knock him off kilter, enough to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“I didn’t mean it.” He told her, his voice weak, portraying his pain.

“You said it.”

His chest ached yet again at the sadness in her voice, her teary eyed gaze hurting him like a sword to the heart.

“I was angry and I didn’t mean a word of what I said. I let my jealousy rule me.” He explained to her, reaching out to take her hand in his again. “But you mean more to me than my anger, you mean more to me than a single mistake.”

Her eyes narrowed, derision crossing her features, as if she didn’t believe him, as if his forgiveness was too good to be true. As she shook her head, he felt his heart crack yet again.

“You’ve forced yourself to feel nothing but derision for me for years, I’m sure you can do it again.” She spoke tersely, her eyes betraying her hurt as they brimmed with tears. “I’ll tell my mother we wish for an annulment.”

“Stop.” He demanded angrily, looking at her with barely contained hurt.

“I’m sure your mother will be thrilled.”

“Love, please-”

“You can be married to a pure maiden within the next moon.”

“Stop!” He yelled, finally cutting off her frantic rambles. She looked at him with wide, tearful eyes, the sight causing his chest to hurt in ways he couldn’t even fathom.

He breathed heavily for a moment, allowing his anger to fade.

“I won’t let you end this. I care about you too much to let you go.”

Her heart jumped at his words, her emotions beginning to stir once again. She let out a trembling breath, a glaringly bitter thought in her head she couldn’t move past from.

“Please, do not hate me for asking…” She started quietly, swallowing thickly as she looked to him hesitantly “Do you forgive me because you wish for power? Because you will one day be consort, because your heir will sit the throne?”

Aemond tensed, his gaze full of bewilderment. He had to admit, maybe in the beginning, the prospect of being consort enticed him, but now, it wasn’t even a thought in his head.

It hadn’t been since the moment she stepped out of that carriage and their eyes met for the first time in years.

“I forgive you because I love you.” Aemond answered, as if it was the most simple explanation he could have given.

Her breath caught in her throat, completely taken aback by his admission, one he gave freely, the genuine look in his eye making her crumble within.

“You love me?” She choked out and he smiled sadly, the sight of her reluctance to believe it causing the ache in his chest to throb once more. He moved to sit closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“I have loved you for a long time. Much longer than I would like to admit.” He spoke with a soft laugh. “The things you did for me in our childhood…” He paused, taking in a deep breath. “Sometimes it felt like you were the only one who cared.”

She frowned, her hand holding his tightly, her heart aching to hear him so vulnerable.

“I could never turn my back on you. I could never let you walk away from our marriage, not for anything.”

He was more than surprised when her lips descended on his with a fierce kiss, one that was filled with hunger, longing, and relief. He immediately wrapped his arms around her, responding to her kiss with equal fervor, moaning against her as her hands winded through his hair, the gesture so intimate, so familiar to their last months together.

They pulled away, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She whispered, sounding pained, as if she would have to repent for his forgiveness for the rest of her life.

He shook his head and held her tighter. He leaned his forehead against hers, swallowing thickly against the small ounce of doubt that creeped within him.

“He truly means nothing to you?”

She seemed pained by his question, her expression twisting as she placed her hand against his cheek as she looked at him with reverence.

“He is nothing to me. I have not had a single thought of him since I’ve loved you.”

He perked up, his wide eye searching hers, as if looking for any sign of dishonesty. But he found none.

He wouldn’t, for she loved him just as he loved her.

He crashed his lips to hers, his hands holding her tightly as he pulled her onto his lap, eager to place his touch upon her and equally as eager for her greedy hands to bestow their pleasure upon him.

He preened under her gentle caresses, her hardened tugs at his hair, her eager hips that grinded against his. He longed for everything she was willing to give him.

He could feel the jealousy that had blinded him, that green-eyed monster that threatened to ruin it all, fade to nothing while he was in her arms.

He would not let a single mistake tear apart what they had, what had been growing since their childhood.

He loved her and she loved him.

It was all he needed.

They mended back together with ease. With Ser Darick transferred, no longer a glaring reminder of her indiscretion, they were able to put the incident past them.

Her brothers questioned what had happened, why there seemed to be a rift in her marriage then, as quickly as it had come, disappeared as she and her husband soon proved themselves as a united front, more infatuated with each other than ever.

She didn’t give them any answers. She only assured them she was happy, that Aemond treated her well and that their marriage was a success.

They were back to the blissful, wonderstruck and obsessed couple they had been before her secret had been revealed.

Until the dinner for the King’s nameday.

Her arm was locked with her husband’s as they stepped into the dining hall, their smiles mirroring each other as they spoke quietly.

Aemond suddenly stopped in his tracks, his body becoming stiff as stone. She looked up at him, her smile falling at the sight of the murderous rage in his eye.

She followed his gaze and paled instantly, her stomach twisting with fear as she found Ser Darick’s smirking face staring back at her. She swallowed against the lump that grew in her throat and held tighter to Aemond’s arm.

“Let’s sit.” She spoke quietly, having to basically drag him along with her to take their seats at the table.

Aemond’s glare remained on the man as he took his seat, his eye cold and unflinching. His wife had told him about that day the guard confronted her, explaining his strange possessiveness, the harsh way he held her.

He wanted to kill the guard the second he saw the bruises on her arms, but she held onto him tightly, begging him not to leave her alone, begging him to drop the matter completely.

She so desperately wanted to forget the entire thing and she knew if Aemond killed him, it would invite questions she dreaded to answer.

The fury he felt at the sight of her bruises, at how scared she had been because of that guard, hadn’t left him. He had kissed every mark on her body, though it did little to soothe the storm inside of him, the desire to draw blood from the man that dared to hurt her.

His fingers tapped erratically atop the table, his deadly scowl never wavering from the man who smugly smirked back at him, inciting his rage.

Her hand covered his, startling him out of his haze of anger. He looked over at her and she gave him a weak smile, her eyes pleading with him to not act on his anger. There was a look of regret in her gaze, as her guilt returned tenfold, as if she were the one angering him.

The sight tore his anger away in an instant and he intertwined their fingers, squeezing her hand comfortingly, silently assuring her, promising her he wasn’t upset with her, that her guilt was for naught.

“I love you.” She mouthed to him, wanting to remind him in the face of her dreaded mistake and he smiled, mouthing the words back to her.

The days they had spent together over the past weeks were enough to heal him of the fierce jealousy that had wracked him at the news of her night with her guard. She had spent night after night worshiping him, bestowing pleasure upon him that left his mind spinning, proving to him over and over again that he was the only one she wanted, he was the only one she had eyes for, and he was the only one she would pleasure so intently.

Their thoughts of that damned guard were gone swiftly as the King was carried into the room, the sight of his decaying and weak body stealing their attention completely.

King Viserys smiled, a sad yet relieved looking gesture as he looked at the table full of his family, smiling faces around him, easy conversation flowing, no sight of derision or hatred he had seen just months ago that had broken his heart.

He raised his cup of wine with a shaking hand.

“A toast to my family.” He began with a hoarse voice. “To my daughter, Rhaenyra, who will make a fine Queen. And to my dear grandchild.”

She perked up at the sound of her name, seemingly growing bashful under the King’s eye.

“My beautiful darling and my dear son. May your union be fruitful and prosper with a love the realm has not yet seen.” Viserys toasted them with a warm smile. “My dear you will make a wonderful Queen after your mother. You will be a fair, peaceful ruler and a wonderful mother when the time comes.”

A bitter scoff echoed through the room, causing everyone to tense, their gazes searching over the faces of those present to find the culprit.

Her throat went dry, embarrassment washing over her as she noticed Ser Darick rolling his eyes. Beside her, Aemond stiffened, the murderous glare glinting in his eye once again. He gripped the arms of the chair he sat on, mere seconds away from getting to his feet to beat the guard into oblivion.

“Is there a problem, Ser?” The King questioned, looking at the guard incredulously.

Ser Darick didn’t even seem intimidated to have the attention of the most powerful man in Westeros. He seemed to preen under all their gazes, straightening his shoulders as if he were of importance.

“Apologies for my interruption, Your Grace.” The guard began, his sickly sweet smile never wavering as his eyes landed back on the culprit of his anger, the shaken girl who seemed to shrink under his harsh gaze.

Aemond clenched his jaw, his hand twitching, desperate to reach for the dagger at his hip.

“You are kind to dole out praises to a whore.”

Chaos erupted in a matter of seconds. Viserys’ face darkened and he struggled to get to his feet, his voice hoarse as he called for his guards to seize Ser Darick.

Daemon sprung to his feet, kicking his chair out of the way, his expression dark and full of hatred as he approached the dead man walking, swiftly pulling the sword from his hip.

But it was Aemond that acted quickest.

He ignored his wife’s warning as he got to his feet with agile precision, his steps heavy as he marched his way toward the guard. He pulled the dagger from his belt, his teeth grit as he stared the man down with nothing but pure hatred.

With a swift kick to Ser Darick's hand, Aemond disarmed him before he could pull his sword. Aemond gripped the front of his armor, dragging him forward harshly and swiftly plunged his dagger into the man’s neck without hesitation.

Gasps and screams sounded behind him at the violent display, but he paid no mind to it.

He watched with satisfaction as the man’s eyes went dull, the life leaving him slowly as he bled out, finally erasing the smug smile from his face.

He eased his grip, letting him drop to the floor.

He turned, coming face to face with Daemon, who had his sword drawn and at the ready. His uncle eyed the dead guard at their feet, with slight disdain for the mere fact that he hadn’t been the one to end his life, before slowly raising his gaze to him, staring at him for a long moment before nodding, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

Aemond nodded back, a dark and twisted respect blooming between them in that moment.

He turned, ignoring the chaos that continued as his family watched on in horror and confusion, a mix of questions, admonishments him for his brashness, praises for his actions, but he heard none of it.

He stepped towards his trembling wife and quickly guided her into his arms, holding her tightly.

Her eyes were wide, shocked by the violent display, though she couldn’t deny the immediate relief that coursed through her.

“Thank you.” She whispered shakily.

Aemond pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his arms tightening around her, his silent promise to always protect her.

Hope you enjoy and sorry it's so long, I can't stop myself xx

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fic #house of the dragon fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen smut

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moon-child-goddess · 11 days ago

Text

Charming

James Potter X Gryffindor reader

Kind of Enemies to start with. This one is just a collection of scenes.

Summary: Reader hates James, and James keeps showing up to annoy her.

Warnings: Language, reader loves to flip James off, Lily is not a bad person in this, mentions of injuries,

I once again don't know how to keep things short like is over 8k words so its a long one.

Potter was at it again, bothering Lily that is. Which was no surprise at all, his life’s purpose was to bother Lily and pull obnoxious pranks. He was perched against the black tabletop, arms crossed, and that stupid charming smirk of his was present. He was spewing out nonsense, about what their first date would look like.

“Imagine it, Evans,” his tone dripped with mock sincerity. “Fireworks across the sky, a romantic broom ride under the stars, and—of course—a picnic with the finest butterbeer Hogwarts can offer.”

I rolled my eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t get stuck. Of course, Potters’ idea of romance would include the most cliché theatrics. He probably thought he was charming too.

Suppressing the urge to gag at his words, I refocused on the simmering potion before me, carefully stirring the thick, bubbling liquid in clockwise motions. The aroma was faintly herbal, with a sharp tang, it was my only indication I was on the right track.

“James,” Lily said, her voice was sweet but firm like a scolding mother. “I need to help my partner. She can’t do all the work alone.”

Her words pulled his attention my way for the first time their entire conversation. He turned, and for a fleeting second, something softened in his brown eyes. But his trademark grin returned, and whatever glimmer of humanity I’d spotted was gone.

“Oh, I see. Don’t worry, Lily, I’m sure she’s perfectly capable of stirring a pot without supervision. Isn’t that, right?” His tone was light, but there was a condescending edge that made my grip on the spoon tighten.

I shot him a cold glare before flipping him off without a word.

“Charming,” he quipped, that maddening smirk of his only widening. “aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine”

I was tempted to lob the wooden spoon at his head. Infuriating—That’s what Potter was. Every word out of his mouth made me want to throttle him.

Lily let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. “James really?”

Muttering the word ‘asshole’ under my breath, I skirted around him to retrieve a forgotten ingredient from the shelf at the back of the classroom. I glanced back at our table and Lily was smacking him on the arm, hissing something to him. By the time I returned to our workstation, he’d finally slunk back to his seat beside Sirius, whose shoulders were shaking with barely suppressed laughter.

Lily offered me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, he’s just…James”

“He is arrogant and full of himself.” I replied, dumping in a measure of powdered moonstone into the cauldron. “I can see why you always tell him to booger off.”

“He is cute,” She admitted with a small shrug. “But he has eyes for someone else.”

I almost dropped the spoon. Of all the ridiculous things she could say that had to top them all. Everyone in the castle knew Potter was utterly infatuated with her. It was the topic of every whispered bet in the corridors.

“Right.” I muttered in disbelief under my breath.

Before I could say anymore there was a loud hiss and crackle coming from behind us. My head snapped up just in time to see a plume of green smoke erupting out of Potters and Sirus’s cauldron. Whatever they had brewed smelled noxious.

“Everyone, step back!” Professor Slughorn’s voice boomed as he waved his wand to contain the smoke.

But before I could move, the cauldron gave a final, violent pop. A spray of scalding liquid flew in all directions. I let out a small squeak closing my eyes and bracing for the inevitable burn. Amongst the chaotic noise I swear I heard someone yell out my name.

The pain never came.

A firm grip caught my arm, yanking me back. When I opened my eyes again there was a sizzling green goop right where I was standing. I was met with Potters concerned eyes when I looked up. His signature grin was gone, replaced by an intensity I had never seen before.

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice unusually quiet.

Potter looked me over inspecting for any sort of injury. Both his hands were on my shoulder’s steading my shaking form.

I blinked once, twice, three times, before responding. “Uh… Yeah.”

His hands lingered on me a moment longer before taking a step back, running a hand through his hair. Sirus behind me was laughing so hard he was nearly in tears.

“James, mate that was brilliant!” Sirus wheezed, wiping his eyes.

Potter shot him a frosty look. It was an expression I didn’t know he could conjure; he was always smiling and carefree.

“Brilliant? You nearly got her killed.” He bit out shoving me behind him.

Sirus froze, his laughter dying. “Oh, come on it wasn’t that bad.”

But James wasn’t listening. He turned his attention back to me, his expression softer. “Are you really, okay?”

I nodded mutely, still trying to process what was happening. The boy who annoyed me every waking moment was being… Kind to me?

Potter nodded back before walking out of the room. His shoulders tense.

Lily leaned over, whispering, “See? He’s not all bad.”

I didn’t reply. For once, I was at a loss for words.

The courtyard was peaceful despite the bustling of students crossing through. I sat in a shady patch of grass with an old, but well-loved book.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Potter’s voice rang out, breaking my solitude like a shattering glass.

I let out a groan. He had an uncanny knack for ruining perfectly good days. I didn’t bother looking up, pretending to focus on the words in front of me.

“What do you want, Potter?” I muttered, my tone sharp.

He plopped down on the grass right beside me, stretching out like he owned the place.

“Just enjoying the great outdoors, same as you. Sans the book. I think you read more than Remus.”

I finally looked up; my scowl sharp enough to peel paint. “There’s an entire courtyard for you to ‘enjoy.’ Go find a different patch of grass.”

“But this is the best spot,” he said cheerfully, completely ignoring my attempt to banish him. “Nice shade, quiet atmosphere, good company—”

“You’re impossible,” I cut him off, snapping my book shut. “Do you ever get tired of being... you?”

“Nope,” he replied, popping the P. “And you don’t seem tired of it either.”

I blinked at him, stunned by the audacity. “I literally just told you to leave. What part of that makes you think I like you?”

“Yet you haven’t left.” He leaned in slightly, the smell of sandalwood and vanilla coming from him. “I think you secretly like having me around.”

Potters eyes were twinkling.

“I think you are delusional,” I countered, but my voice cracked slightly. His smile deepened like he’d caught me in some grand confession.

“Delusional, huh? Interesting diagnosis, sunshine”

My head snaped back to him so fast I nearly got whiplash. “What did you- What did you just call me?”

“Sunshine.” He repeated, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Fits, doesn’t it?”

He really was delusional.

“No, it doesn’t,” I bit out through gritted teeth. “don’t call me that.”

“Why not? It’s perfectly you. You are so warm and radiant”

My hand clenched around the edge of my book, and for a split second, I considered using it as a weapon.

I stared at him in disbelief. My jaw tightening. “I hate you.”

“Aw, don’t be like that, Sunshine.” his smirk now verging on insufferable. “Deep down, I think you actually like me.”

I stood up so fast he flinched slightly.

“Listen, Potter. I don’t know what twisted game you’re playing, but I’m not interested. Call me that again, and I swear—”

“What? You’ll hex me?” he interrupted, clearly unbothered by any threat I could make. “Go ahead. I’m dying to see what you’d come up with.”

The nerve of this boy.

Instead of dignifying his challenge with a response, I glared harder before turning on my heel and storming off. Behind me, I could hear his laughter following me like an annoying echo.

“See you around, Sunshine!” he called after me, his voice ringing with triumph.

I flipped him off without turning around, my blood boiling.

Sunshine? What an absolutely ridiculous, infuriating nickname. And yet, as I stalked back to the castle, I couldn’t stop replaying the way he’d said it—like it was a joke only he understood.

I hated him. I really, really hated him.

I had managed to keep the Potter interactions to a minimum. I avoided him by ducking behind statues whenever I caught sight of his messy hair or hiding behind Lily when in class. For a moment, I thought I’d finally regained my background character peace.

The Sunshine nickname had stuck much to my dismay. Every time he said it in class, I swear my blood pressure spiked.

Which is why, when the library’s familiar quiet atmosphere enveloped me one late evening, I let myself relax for the fist time in days. This was my slice of heaven. The dim candlelight and the faint scent of parchment was soothing, a perfect backdrop for tackling the mountain of notes piled before me.

“Well, well if it isn’t my favorite ray of sunshine, hiding in the shadows.” Potters voice drawled breaking the silence like a Bludger through a window.

My quill stilled mid-sentence, and I groaned internally.

“Don’t you have someone else to bother?” I pursed my lips pretending to think. “Like Lily perhaps?”

Instead of taking the hint, he pulled out the chair in front of me and plopped down. This took my attention away from the papers in front of me. Potters grin was so smug it could rival the Cheshire Cat’s. How could one person be so obnoxious?

“Lily’s got enough admirers for one day. Besides,” he said, leaning back slinging a toned arm over the chair next to him. “you’re far more interesting.”

“Watch it. Lily is my friend,” I shot back, folding my arms across my chest. “What do you want, Potter?”

“Nothing much,” as he spoke, as he leaned his chair on its back legs. “Just thought you could use some company.”

Company? What about me in a dark corner with books scattered about screams I need company. Potter was an idiot.

A special kind of idiot.

“I don’t need company” I snapped turning back to my notes.

“You sure?” He was leaning forward now. “You seem awfully tense maybe I could help.”

I arched an eyebrow at him unimpressed with his antics. The only person in his group I would accept help from was Remus. He spent more time on schoolwork then I did.

“Unless you have suddenly become an expert in transfiguration theory, I seriously doubt you can help”

Potter hummed before picking up my book.

“Transfiguration, huh?” He tilted his head to the side like a curious dog. The candles reflected off his glasses creating a glare.

“Nope can’t help with that. But I am an excellent distraction from stress.”

“Clearly.” I mumbled, yanking my book back.

He chuckled, a warm sound that I refused to acknowledge as pleasant.

“You don’t have to be so prickly sunshine.”

“Maybe I am prickly because you are insufferable.” I shot back.

I wanted to throw something at him, but the detention was not worth it.

“But I think you mean I am insufferably charming.” He countered.

“As charming as a toad.”

That earned me a loud laugh from him, he was genuinely amused. “Sunshine has jokes, I like this side of you.”

I didn’t say anything just flipped him off. Potter laughed again, the sound carrying through the now empty library.

“Prongs!” Sirius voice rang out from somewhere near the entrance. “Come on, we’ve got rounds.”

James stood up, still looking at me. “Guess I’ll leave you to it, Sunshine.” He winked as he walked away, leaving me wondering what the hell had just happened.

It was about a week later before he spoke to me again. I was on an evening stroll around the grounds enjoying the crisp evening air.

Potter was at the lake skipping stones with his group. They were all laughing and making fun of something. I was to far away to hear. Sirus noticed me first nudging James in the arm pointing in my direction. I narrowed my eyes.

“Sunshine!” He called out. As if were the greatest of pals.

I kept walking, acting like I didn’t hear him. He jogged up the hill quickly falling into step with me.

“What has you in such a hurry?”

“Trying to avoid you and your gaggle of friends.” I was blunt not bothering to soften the blow.

“Harsh,” He clutched his chest dramatically. “You wound me.”

“You will survive, especially if you know, just leave me alone.”

There was a beat of silence.

“You know you could just admit you like me”

I halted my steps and blinked turning mid step. “Why on earth would I do that?”

“Because everyone likes me!” I half expected him to spin with his arms out, but he just shrugged.

The confidence of him. His parents raised an irritatingly confident secure personality.

I rolled my eyes, “That is impossible Potter, because I really don’t like you.”

“Oh, I will grow on you, I promise.” There was a playfulness to his tone.

“Like a fungus, maybe.” I scoffed.

James burst out laughing, the sound wasn’t entirely unpleasant. My lips twitched fighting a smile. He was kind of cute in that moment. The way the setting sun caught in his hair and how he absentmindedly adjusted his glasses made him look... well, charming.

Shaking the thought away, I did what came naturally and flipped him off continuing my walk. This time, though, the gesture was almost playful.

Before I got far, I glanced back and spotted Sirius patting James on the back with a mischievous grin. My stomach sank. They were up to something, and I was undoubtedly their next target.

I steeled myself, pulling my walls higher than ever. I wouldn’t fall victim to whatever scheme they were concocting.

Not this time.

Avoiding Potter from that point on had become a fulltime task. No matter where I went, he showed up with a cheesy pick-up line. Somehow, he was everywhere. Like he had some sort of magical tracker. Which was why I had taken refuge under the shade of a secluded oak tree on the furthest side of the castle grounds. A book clutched in my hands like it was my lifeline of sanity. Lily had recommended it to me. It was a fun muggle mystery. She had called it a classic.

“I think about it a lot you know. What our first date would look like.” Potters annoying voice spoke from above me.

And yet, there he was, like a persistent weed sprouting through the cracks. Of course, the obnoxious boy would find this well-hidden tree. How was he always finding me?

“Umm what?” I sputtered not quite believing what I heard.

“You heard me sunshine.” that damn confidence was back, as if he was going to get what he wanted out of this conversation.

The sun made it difficult to see him, its light blasting directly into my eyes from behind his head, forming a blinding halo around him.

“Stop lying, it’s not cute.” I muttered.

Potter moved to the side; my eyes followed. He was unfazed by my dismissiveness. I closed my book with a snap, no longer able to tolerate being in the same space as him.

“I promise you, I’m not,” his voice still dripping with that unshakeable confidence.

He was up to something, and I had no idea what it was—but I sure wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

“I will believe that hmm… let’s see- never.” I stood up, almost headbutting Potter.

“Sunshine, even if you don’t believe me now, I am good at proving people wrong.”

Before taking my leave, I flipped him off aggressively. The gesture sharp and final, I wanted him to get the message to leave me alone. Usually when someone flips another person off, they get a clue.

But he laughed.

On my way back to the castle I passed by a Sirus Black hiding behind a statue. He was clearly trying (and failing) to stifle a laugh. That confirmed it—they were definitely up to something, and I had no intention of being the butt of their joke.

Potter had taken Lilys seat in potions class. She sent me an apologetic look when I entered. Slughorn wouldn’t be bothered. He just cared that everyone sat and paid attention.

“Guess I am your partner today, Sunshine.” He greeted.

I ignored him, dumping my books on the table with a thud. Ignoring him was not working for me but it was the only thing keeping me from harming him. Potter was like a dog with a bone—relentless.

“Did you know you’re my favorite lab partner?” he added, his voice light, teasing.

“No, and I don’t care,” I muttered, flipping through my notes.

Slughorn us gave us instructions to brew the potion we talked about earlier in the week. I opened my notebook to the vigorous notes I had taken. I got up collecting everything we needed and started the process without a word.

Halfway through and Potter hadn’t moved. He was supposed to be actually helping brew. But he was utterly useless, just sitting there staring at me with his head propped up on his fist.

It was infuriating.

“Merlin! Potter, you need to help me,” I snapped, thrusting the spoon in his direction. The frustration in my voice was impossible to miss.

His only response was a stupid dopy grin, He didn’t flinch, didn’t so much as blink at the spoon an inch from his nose. Instead, that ridiculous grin widened.

"You know, sunshine, if I could brew a potion to make you smile, I would." He winked, and I resisted the urge to hex him.

He was impossible. No wonder Lily always said no—these were the kind of lines you’d expect from a child. What did I do to earn his attention?

“Do these lines actually work for you?” I frowned.

“I don’t know,” he said, his amber eyes twinkling now. “Are they?”

There it was again—his infuriating ability to twist every interaction into a game. I wasn’t playing.

There was no way he was insinuating anything with me. Everyone knew he only had eyes for the redhead—Lily—who just happened to be my actual potions partner. Just a few weeks ago he was at our table bothering her.

“I meant, do they work on Lily?” I clarified, my voice flat.

James tilted his head, feigning confusion, though the mischievous glint in his eyes gave him away. “Why would I care about that?”

For the millionth time since I’d met the boy, I rolled my eyes again.

“For the love of Merlin, just stir,” I hissed, shoving the spoon into his hand.

To my surprise, he actually complied, though he made a dramatic show of it, swirling the liquid as though he were crafting some grand masterpiece.

“See? I’m not completely useless, “his tone insufferably self-satisfied.

I ignored him, turning my attention back to the notes. Sirius let out a snort of laughter, only to be smacked on the back of the head by Remus.

“Get back to work,” Remus muttered, though his lips twitched with suppressed amusement.

It was impossible to ignore the lingering sense that Potter was up to something—and I was the target.

James Potter took it upon himself to sit at my usual dining table. My quiet, little secluded corner—the one that no one really bothered with except Lily and her close circle of friends. He slid into the seat across from me his tie undone.

I raised an eyebrow at him, fork halfway to my mouth. What does he want now?

“Are you made of stardust?” I looked heavenward; his tone was teasing but had a softness. “Because every time I look at you, the world seems to disappear."

I set my fork down, sending him a flat look. “You seriously think I am going to fall for one of your cheesy lines while eating?”

He was persistent to pull of whatever prank they were up to. If only he applied that persistence’s to his schoolwork.

Potter shrugged, but this time there was no playful retort. Instead, his grin faded slightly, replaced by something almost... serious. "Maybe I’m just hoping one will finally catch your attention."

The tone change caught me off guard. I almost believed him. He has been playful and flirty the last few weeks. There was movement a couple feet away that caught my attention. Sirus was leaning against the wall just within earshot.

He looked like he was barely containing a laugh, as though James was the star player in some elaborate joke they’d cooked up.

They were too obvious. My frown deepened.

"Potter, your games won’t work on me,” my voice sharper than I intended. "You’re wasting your time."

His gaze softened further, and for once the playfulness was gone. "Maybe I like wasting my time... if it means I get to spend it with you."

The sincerity in his voice made my stomach twist, and I hated it. Hated how, for a fleeting second, I felt something crack in my resolve. But before I could dwell on it, Sirius snorted loudly from his perch, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

Another pick-up line? Another game? Another performance for his friends?

Potter just didn’t seem to know when enough was enough. My appetite was officially gone, and I had no intention of sticking around to entertain whatever nonsense they were plotting.

“You really don’t get it, do you?” I said slinging my bag over my shoulder. “I’m not just some joke to you and your friends.”

“Wait—” James started, his hand reaching out like he might stop me.

But I didn’t give him the chance. Before he could say another word, I flipped him off and stalked out of the dining hall, not bothering to look back.

The moment I stepped into the corridor, the tension in my chest eased slightly, though my thoughts still churned. It was bad enough that James had inserted himself into nearly every aspect of my day. Classes, hallways, even the library. He was everywhere.

I didn’t know what he and his friends were planning.

And yet, as I made my way through the castle, a new thought began to gnaw at the edges of my frustration. Was this all part of some elaborate ploy to make Lily jealous? A way to grab her attention by pretending to care about someone else?

The idea stung more than I wanted to admit.

Of course, I told myself firmly. That has to be it. Why else would someone like James Potter be wasting his time with me?

Pushing the thought aside, I tightened my grip on my bag and headed for the common room. I wasn’t going to let him—or his stupid, infuriating grin—take up any more space in my head.

Lily my saving grace was in her spot when I entered the potions classroom. Relief flooded through me, and for the first time in days I felt lighter. There she was my red headed angel. With a smile, I dropped into my seat next to her, savoring the normalcy.

“I didn’t think I’d ever be so happy to see your face," I whispered to Lily.

She laughed softly. "James is persistent, isn’t he? I got to class early to make sure I got my spot.”

As if on cue, the door to the classroom opened, and Potter’s messy head of hair appeared. His eyes dulled when he noticed Lily sitting next to me. For a moment, his usual smile faltered, the realization that his plan had been thwarted clearly hitting him. He glanced at me, then back at Lily, shaking his head. I stuck my tongue out at him in playful defiance.

James gave me a half-smile, and made his way to the table behind us.

Lily leaned in closer, her side brushing against mine as she whispered, ““Do you need help getting James to leave you alone?”

I shook my head. “No, he will lose interest eventually.”

She gave me a look before responding. “I doubt that. He has always had his eyes on you.”

I shot her sideways glance. “He was always flirting with you and begging you to date him.”

Her lips curled into a small knowing smile. “Only when I am around you. Which is why I always said no.”

My eyes widened in disbelief, and I almost laughed. “You’re crazy,”

my voice was just above a whisper now.

But as I took in her words, something shifted inside me. We all knew James potter had been in love with Lily for years- He had practically made a sport out of trying to win her over. But hearing her admit that his attention had only intensified when I was around... it felt strange.

I couldn’t help the flicker of discomfort that passed through me at the thought. Why would he suddenly change tactics? I was still convinced he was playing a prank.

Lily nudged me gently, “You’re not as oblivious as you pretend to be, you know.”

I sighed, trying to ignore the strange, fluttering feeling in my stomach. “I’m not oblivious. I just don’t want to deal with it.”

She chuckled softly, her voice full of affection. “You don’t have to deal with it alone. Just know I’m here for you, alright?”

I gave her a grateful smile, leaning in to whisper back, “Thanks, Lil I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Her smile softened, and she gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

The Gryffindor common room was warm and bustling with activity, the fire crackling in the hearth and casting flickering shadows across the walls. Groups of students gathered in clusters, laughing and chatting, while others bent over homework or played games. I had tucked myself away in a corner near the window, the happy buzzing fading into background noise as I doodled in my notebook.

I glanced up when I heard Potters voice, a playful lilt as he joked with Sirius on their way in. My heart sank. My shoulders stiffened, and I hunched further over my parchment, praying he’d move along. Surely, he wouldn’t notice me here.

He made eye contact with me immediately, as if he knew I was there.

The room seemed to hush around me, or perhaps it was just my nerves heightening as his footsteps grew closer.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, stopping beside my chair. There was a resolve in his eyes. Potter was determined right now.

I didn’t make eye contact. “Whatever it is, I’m not interested.”

But he didn’t move. Instead, he crouched slightly to meet my gaze, his usual grin replaced by a more serious expression. “I mean it. Can we talk?”

My patience snapped. My chair scraped against the stone floor as I stood up. “I’m not sure what you and your group are up to,” I said, my voice low.

“But stay away from me. I am not something to play with and laugh at.”

“That’s not what—”

I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. It was probably all lies anyway.

“Save it, Potter,” I cut him off, crossing my arms tightly over my heart.

The usual noise of the common room seemed to fade entirely. I just wanted to be left alone, to return to the peace of being forgotten by most. I was here to get an education, to keep my head down, and leave this castle behind.

His expression faltered, just for a second, before he squared his shoulders. “It’s not a joke. I’m not—”

“I don’t care, I just want to be left alone.”

He sighed, dragging a hand through his messy hair, a nervous tic I’d seen countless times now. “You think I’d go through all this trouble for a joke? You think I’d—”

Potter stopped talking when my eyes flicked to Sirius, who was lounging on one of the sofas, smirking like he found the entire situation hilarious. A look of understanding crossed James’s features.

“Please, Sunshine” his voice softer now, almost pleading. His hand reached out, grasping my wrist as I turned to walk away his fingers brushing against my pulse. “Listen to me.”

I froze, my pulse quickening, but not from fear. No not from fear.

“We aren’t playing some joke. Sirus is always around as moral support. He is a shitty wingman.”

Sirus let out an offended noise.

“Let me go,” I hissed, narrowing my eyes at him. “I don’t trust you.”

When he didn’t release my wrist, I glared and flipped him off with my free hand. His lips twitched, almost into a smile, but the determination in his gaze didn’t waver.

“Go ahead and flip me off, love,” his voice tinged with quiet resolve. “I’ll prove to you that I’m serious.”

The words hung between us like a dare, his amber eyes searching mine for some crack in the wall I’d so carefully built. I was stunned into silence. This wasn’t the James Potter I’d come to expect—the grinning troublemaker who lived for attention and pranks. This was different.

“Prove what?” I said flatly, more a statement than a question.

“That I really really like you,” he replied, his grip on my wrist loosening but not quite letting go. “I’m not playing games. I know I’ve been... annoying.”

An understatement.

“But I need you to know that I’m not doing this to mess with you.”

I snorted, though the sound lacked conviction. “You’re always messing with someone, Potter.”

“Not you,” he said softly.

That stopped me cold. There was no smirk, no teasing edge, just the quiet insistence of his words and the weight of his gaze.

I shook my head, pulling my hand free.

“You don’t have to believe me now,” he said as I stepped back. “But I’ll prove it to you.”

I paused, my heart inexplicably skipping a beat. Then, without another word, I turned and walked away, leaving him standing there.

Things weren’t like before when James Potter was just an annoyance— a loud self-assured presence that demanded attention. Whether you wanted to give it to him or not. No, something was different now, and I was having a hard time making sense of it.

He stopped pestering me in class. There was no interrupting my study sessions or tossing out cheesy pickup lines. Instead, he was actually helping me in class, gave me space when I asked for it, and didn’t push my buttons just for the fun of it.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had flipped him off, and strangely I did miss it.

Part of me hated the change. It felt like losing an old habit. But the other half of me was enjoying the calm side of him. The side of James that was almost thoughtful. Maybe he really wasn’t doing it all for attention or laughs.

I was hidden between bookshelves, shelving the books I no longer needed when I caught the unmistakable sound of Sirus’s voice. It was loud and drifting from a nearby table.

Eavesdropping was bad. I knew that. But my curiosity was piqued and so I took small slow steps, careful to not make a sound.

“She is a lost cause” Sirus was saying, his tone almost sarcastic.

Who is she? Was the ‘she’ me?

“I mean it, James. She always flipping you off and has a permanent scowl. Its hopeless mate.”

Ahh so the she was definitely me. My heart twinged in a way I didn’t expect. I did flip Potter off a lot, but hearing Sirus dismiss me so easily stung.

“Sirus.” James’s tone came out as a warning. “You don’t know her, and you are crossing a line.”

Sirius paused, his grin faltering as he looked at James with a raised hand. “Alright, alright, no need to get all protective. I was just making a point.”

James didn’t respond, his jaw set as he turned back to his parchment, the tension in his shoulders lingered as his quill scratched along the paper.

I ducked back behind the shelf, my heart racing for reasons I did not want to admit. James had defended me to his best friend. Made it clear I wasn’t someone he could get a laugh at.

James wasn’t as bad as I thought he was. There was more to him then the playful antics and relentless charm. And I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that.

James had gotten hurt during quidditch practice last night. Lily had casually mentioned he was being kept in the hospital wing for observation. Apparently, they were worried that his head injury was worse than it seemed.

I hated to admit it, but I was worried about him. An annoying flutter in my chest came at the thought of him laying there injured and alone. But how could I just go visit him? Just showing up out of nowhere would seem odd. Especially after I spent so much energy convincing myself, and everyone else, that I couldn’t stand him.

When my notes tumbled out of my bag I had tossed to the side, I found my excuse.

I will make copies of my notes.

Its practical.

Thoughtful.

Not suspicious.

It wasn’t long before I found myself standing in the doorway of the hospital wing, clutching the freshly copied notes nervously. I should leave. This was stupid. Remus would have notes for him when he was released. He didn’t need me.

Before I could back out the door he saw me. His eyes lit up and lips curved upwards into a smile despite the cut on his lip.

“Sunshine, you came to visit.” His voice was warm.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” I shot back, waving the notes at him. “McGonagall asked me to bring these.”

He smirked seeing right through my lie.

“Did she?” he asked, leaning forward slightly. He winced at the motion, and before I could think I was at his bedside.

“Stop moving, you are going to make things worse.” I scolded.

James raised his hands up in mock surrender. “Yes ma’am.”

Rolling my eyes I hesitated for a moment before sitting on the edge of the bed. Up close the injury looked worse. A dark bruise was peeking out over the top of the bandage. A quick pang of sympathy ran through me.

James must have noticed my expression, because his pupils softened.

“You know,” he said a teasing lilt to his tone, but nothing over the top. “I’d get hurt more often if it meant you’d visit me like this.”

Without warning I reached out, brushing his stray curls away from his forehead. They were softer than I had expected.

“Don’t be stupid,” I muttered, handing him the notes.

As he reached out to take them, his fingers brushed against mine. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt through me. I pulled my hand back immediately, pretending to adjust the hem of my sleeve.

“You’re ridiculous,” my words lacked their usual bite.

“Ridiculously happy to see you.” he countered, grinning in that familiar, infuriating way.

Groaning, I shifted to stand up, but his hand caught mine, gently pulling me back down. This time, I didn’t pull away. I let his fingers curl around mine.

“Thanks for coming,” His thumb brushed lightly against the back of my hand, a gesture so simple and tender that it caught me off guard.

I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry.

“It’s just notes.”

“It’s more than that,” he replied, his eyes holding mine. “It means something.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I let the silence stretch between us. When I finally pulled my hand away so he could rest, I missed the warmth of his touch.

“Well,” I said, standing. “Don’t get used to it.”

“We’ll see about that.” He winked.

“Get some rest Potter.”

“What will it take for you to call me James?”

I paused at the foot of his bed, glancing back at him with a smirk.

“We will just have to see,” I quipped.

Something had shifted, and there was no going back.

The biting cold of the Forbidden Forest seeped through my robes as I stumbled over a twisted root. I barley caught myself before face planting into the dirt. My wand was clenched into a death grip, the dim glow of Lumos casting a little more then a pale circle of light. Shadows stretched in every direction, distorting the trees into looming specters. It was an endless sea of black.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Brilliant,” I grumbled to myself attempting to lighten my mood with sarcasm. “Absolutely brilliant.”

Class had ended ages ago. The castle was surely alive with the hum of dinner, but I was lost, hungry and beyond exhausted. My arm throbbed where I had scraped it against a jagged branch, and panic began to set in. Now would be a great time for James to magically appear like he always did.

A sudden rustle nearby caused me to freeze in place. My heart was beating against my ribs rapidly. I slowly moved the light in the direction the sound came from.

There was a low growl from somewhere in the darkness. My breath caught in my throat. I was going to die here.

And I ran.

I didn’t know where I was going, but staying felt like an early invite to my grave. Twigs snapped under my feet; the cold air stung my face.

A bright white beam of light pierced through the trees, and a frantic voice followed.

“Sunshine, where are you?”

Relief flooded through the me my knees buckled.

“I’m here!” I called out my voice trembling. I was going to cry.

The growling stopped abruptly, and there was hurried footsteps making their way to me.

James burst into view, his wand raised high, and his hair was a mess more so then usual. His white button up was disheveled and stained, as if he had plowed through every branch in his path to get to me. His wild eyes locked on mine, and his entire body sagged with visible relief.

But only for a moment.

In a heartbeat, his hands were gripping my shoulders, his gaze scanning me from head to toe.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, his tone rough with worry.

Before I could answer his hands moved to my face, gently pushing back stray strands of hair. His touch was warm, a stark contrast to the icy air. A shiver ran through me, though I wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or something else.

I shook my head, trying to find my voice.

“I’m fine.” I whispered.

“Merlin’s beard,” he muttered, pulling me into a tight, impulsive hug.

The sudden contact startled me. James Potter, the boy who loved a good laugh at my expense, was hugging me like his life depended on it. His arms were strong and steady, and for a moment, the situation didn’t feel so terrifying.

I didn’t pull away. Instead, I let myself sink into the warmth of him. My hands found their way to his back, clutching the fabric of his shirt as I breathed in the scent of sandalwood and vanilla.

“You scared the hell out of me.” He mumbled into my hair.

James was the first to pull away, his hands lingering on my arms looking me over again. Like he was checking for hidden injuries.

“You have a cut.”

The way he said it was so soft I almost missed it.

I’d forgotten about it until he mentioned it. Glancing at my arm, I saw the dried blood and torn sleeve. “It’s nothing,” I said quickly, not wanting to make a fuss. “I just need to clean it.”

James frowned, clearly not satisfied with my answer. He stepped closer, holding his wand up to examine it. The warmth of him was back, his presence grounding me.

“What are you even doing out here alone?” he demanded, exasperation creeping into his tone.

“I—I got lost,” My cheeks burned at my admission. “I was late for class, and I thought I found a shortcut.”

He stared at me like I’d grown a second head. “A shortcut? Through the Forbidden Forest?” His voice rose slightly, incredulous. “Do you have any idea how dangerous—” He cut himself off, running a hand through his already messy hair yanking on it a bit.

“I didn’t mean to cause a panic,” I said quickly. “Or waste your time.”

James froze, his jaw tightening. For a moment, he said nothing, his wand hand trembling slightly as he lowered it. “Waste my time?” he repeated, his voice low, almost bewildered.

I winced.

“Waste my time?” he said again, his words sharper this time. He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine with a fire I hadn’t seen before.

“Sorry.” I squeaked out.

The way he was acting caught me off guard. I looked over his shoulder and into the dark, the weight of his concern was overwhelming.

I figured the only person who would notice me missing was Lily.

“Don’t you get it?” His hands found my face again, his thumbs brushing over my cheeks. “I know you don’t believe it, but I care about you. You stubborn, brilliant, infuriating woman. That’s why I came running the second I heard you were missing.”

My breath hitched, the weight of his words crashing into me like a wave. His touch was gentle, grounding, but his gaze was unrelenting, raw, and unguarded.

After a long moment, he pulled back slightly and extended a hand. “Come on,” he said softly. “Let’s get out of here before you catch your death.”

I hesitated, my eyes lingering on his outstretched hand before placing mine in his. His grip was firm, steady, and when his fingers curled around mine, they held on like he was afraid I might disappear.

As we walked through the trees, his thumb brushed lightly against the back of my hand—a quiet reassurance that made my chest ache in a way I wasn’t ready to examine.

For the first time, James Potter didn’t feel like an annoyance. He felt like a lifeline.

Gryffindor won the quidditch game. Our common room was alive with the hum of celebration. Streamers of crimson and gold were lazily thrown up around the space. Cheers erupted from everyone when the team entered the crowded dance area.

I stood off to the side, cradling an empty cup, at the edge of the room away from the crowd. Lily, was perched in the chair beside me. She laughed at a first-year attempting to smuggle an oversized barrel of butterbeer across the room. A sixth-year intercepted it with a laugh, stowing it out of reach.

It was enough to distract me from the figure weaving through the crowd.

James.

He towered over most of the cluster of people, his curly hair unmistakable, still damp from the post-match shower. His Quidditch jersey clung to his frame, the number on his back catching the light. He looked every bit the victorious captain, and the sight of him sent an uninvited warmth through my chest.

“What’s with the brooding? We just won! You should be grinning like that prat over there.” Lily asked shoving a full glass in my hand. She pointed to James who was laughing with his gaggle of friends.

“I’m not brooding,” I replied, taking a sip. “Just enjoying the chaos from a safe distance.”

“If that’s what you want to believe.” She winked, already dancing away toward the center of the room.

James appeared in front of me, his grin widening when our eyes met.

“There you are, Sunshine. Thought you’d gone into hiding.”

That warm, teasing lilt had become as familiar as the sound of my own heartbeat.

“Someone has to make sure you lot doesn’t burn our living space down.”

He chuckled.

“But, not hiding,” I replied, glancing over his shoulder. “Just... thinking.”

He leaned casually against the wall beside me his foot brushing mine, but there was something softer in his expression tonight. His warm brown eyes held a warmth that sent a flutter through my chest.

“Care to share what’s on your mind?” his tone curious.

I hesitated, swirling the liquid in my glass. “It’s just... a lot to take in. Everything’s been so—different.”

James tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Different how?”

I turned to face him fully, “You. Us. Everything. Just three months ago, I couldn’t stand you.”

“And now?” he asked, his voice quieter, the teasing edge gone.

I bit my lip, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “Now... I’m not sure I ever did.”

His grin widened, but it wasn’t cocky or self-assured like the ones he used to flash at me in the past. This one was softer, filled with something that made my heart ache in the best way.

“I’d say that’s progress,” he murmured, stepping closer. His hand reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered, against my skin.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “You’re not going to make a big speech about how you knew I’d come around eventually, are you?”

He chuckled, the sound low and comforting. “Not tonight.”

“Good.”

We stayed there for a moment, neither of us speaking. His eyes brighter then usual.

“Enjoying the celebration?” he asked trying to act casual about my confession.

“It’s... lively,” I said, unable to hide a small smile.

He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “We just crushed Slytherin, I think it’s more than lively.”

I shrugged, taking a sip of my butterbeer. “It was a decent match.”

I couldn’t help but tease him.

“Decent?” He leaned forward, his knees pressing more firmly against mine. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“I can’t make things to easy for you Potter.”

His grin softened, and for a moment, the noise of the room seemed to fade. “You never do.”

James moved back a half step. “Take a walk with me?”

“Ok.”

He didn’t ask just grabbed my hand navigating us through the crowd. We didn’t stop walking till we were outside strolling through a field of grass. The stars were bright and beautiful tonight. It was almost romantic.

“You know,” he began, his tone light, “I was thinking.”

“Dangerous territory,” I teased, the corners of my mouth lifting.

He laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “Maybe. But I was wondering what it might take for you to stop calling me Potter.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What will it take for you to stop calling me Sunshine?”

He grinned, pulling me closer. “Never. That’s non-negotiable.”

“Then I guess you’re stuck with ‘Potter.’”

He hummed thoughtfully, lacing our fingers together. The simple gesture sent a comforting sensation coursing through me that no spell could replicate.

“What makes you think you’ve earned us being on a first name basis?”

“Scoring the winning goal isn’t enough?” he asked, mock-offended.

“Not even close.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make my stomach flutter. “Then what if I told you I’d do whatever it takes?”

“You are persistent.” I laughed.

“Only for you.”

James usual playful retorts absent in his tone.

I looked up at him, my breath catching at the way his eyes searched mine.

“Maybe just maybe I don’t mind that anymore.” I added, just loud enough for him to hear.

His grin returned, but this time it was softer, almost shy. “Does that mean I can finally take you on that first date?”

I hummed tapping my chin, pretending to think about it. “Maybe.”

I had the teasing tone now.

He laughed, his thumb brushing against my hand. The world seemed to still as he leaned in, stopping just short of my lips. The question in his eyes was unmistakable. I nodded, barely visible.

When his lips met mine, it was like every piece of the puzzle I hadn’t known was missing finally clicked into place. His hand came up to cradle my cheek, the kiss warm and steady, filled with a kind of tenderness I hadn’t realized he was capable of.

When we pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, and I felt his smile against my skin.

“Finally,” he whispered, his breath tickling my nose.

I giggled shaking my head. “Don’t ruin the moment, Potter.”

“James,” he corrected.

“James,” I echoed, and it felt right in a way I couldn’t explain.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t hide my smile. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Never.” He placed a quick kiss on my lips.

#james potter imagine #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #maruders #marauders imagine #marauders era

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coryosbaby · 1 year ago

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Who Has a Face Like Smarty Does?

—“Why don’t you just listen?”

Fandom: “Spider-Man: Across the Spiderverse”

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x fem! Spider! Reader

Summary: You don’t know when to follow orders.

Cw: dubcon/cnc, nsfw . spanking, daddy kink, age gap, spitting, size kink, biting, marking

🩷🤍

“You’re such a fucking brat.” Miguel pounds into you at a restless pace, fangs bared sharp and scraping against your jugular. “Why don’t you just listen? Huh? Are you that fucking stupid?”

Your eyes roll back as his incredibly thick length bruises your walls. You know you’ve been bad; going directly against his orders to help Miles is probably the worst thing you could do. And getting sassy about— having an attitude— definitely didn’t help. So when he threw you into his office and ripped the crotch of your latex suit, exposed your puffy cunt to the room, and bent you over his desk, you knew you were in deep trouble.

It hurts, the way he’s fucking you. But you know he doesn’t want you to feel pleasure. You know he wants to break you. Blood coats your tits in thick red stains, bite marks running along your neck and jaw from where he sunk his fangs into you. Aphrodisiacs, they are; and when they sink into you all you can think of his thick, hard cock, bulging muscles and handsome face. You’re like a bitch in heat.

“‘M sorry, daddy!” You cry out. It’s too much, but you know he won’t stop.

“Oh, you’re going to be sorry, little girl.” He growls. “Daddy’s gonna fill this fucking cunt up. That’ll teach you to mind your manners, won’t it?”

“Yes daddy- fill me up! Please fill my pussy up, need it s’ bad..”

It’s all you can say. His hands curl up into the position they make when he’s about to shoot the webs from his wrists; the sound of the sticky substance landing on your shoulders makes your mouth gape as he uses his own webs to lift your body firmly off the wooden desk. Your nipples barely graze it as he speeds his pace up. A damn near impossible speed for a normal man, but Miguel O’Hara is not normal.

He moans when he looks down and sees your creamy spend leaking down his cock and balls. His thick thighs are hitting your ass as he ruts into you. “mi amor, estás chorreando…” translation: My love, you’re dripping.

Other harsh disgusting words spew from his lips. Your gaping snatch is closed tightly around him as he sinks his fangs into you again.

Your eyes roll back, a pained but also pleasured cry leaving your soft lips, legs shaking and cunt drenching him. His claws dig into your sides and then he reels back and slaps your ass. You gasp, and begin fucking back onto him when he does it again.

“Oh, look at you,” Miguel teases. “You want more of my slaps, little one? Do you want to be punished?”

You nod, and his hands come down onto you again.

“Miggy..”

“I want you to cum, mi amor.” He states breathlessly. “Rub your clit and wet my fuckin’ dick.”

You don’t understand why he’s letting it happen so soon. Wasn’t this supposed to be a punishment? But you listen to him anyway, and begin to rub the swollen nub with harsh strokes. Your orgasm has you practically screaming— and afterwards, Miguel doesn’t let up. He abuses your womb over and over until you can’t even breathe. It’s borderline painful, and your body feels completely spent and used.

By your tenth or eleventh orgasm, he’s got you pinned to the wall by his webs with his arms holding your neck in a chokehold. He eats your cunt out with his bloody mouth, and your eyes are rolling back, little nghhhs sighing out of you as he slurps your sopping wet hole. Your vision is going fuzzy, but you don’t care.

“Are you learning your lesson, mami?” He groans, as he pulls away from your cunt and rubs harshly on your clit with his thumb. You sob, nodding, drool leaking out of the corners of your plush mouth.

“‘S.. ‘s too much, miggy. Please, I can’t take it anymore..” you whine, but his fingers harshly slap your pussy and you jolt with a cry.

“You take what I give you.” He says, and then he’s ripping the webs from your body and letting you slide down the wall onto the floor with the help of his strong hands. You cry, legs trying to run away from him; you know you want it, but your body is drained.

Miguel growls, his claws grabbing you in a loose grip and dragging you back to his cock.

“Don’t run away from me, little bitch. You need to be fucking disciplined! This cunt is going to cum again whether you like it or not.”

You pant against his crotch as he shoves your face into his pubic hair. The smell of his pheromones makes your eyes roll back.

Your cunt pulses again.

—fuck, you’re in trouble.

#Miguel O’Hara #Miguel O’Hara x reader #Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader #Miguel O’Hara smut #Spider-Man #Spider-Man: into the spiderverse #Miguel O’Hara fanfic

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itsjustemily · 1 month ago

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It is time....

“Blurr.”

‘No’. His thoughts felt empty. His servos gripped at his plating, shaking so badly at the urge to rip it into shreds.

“Blurr.”

He kept his back turned, refusing to face what has long since been coming for him.

“You promised.”

“….We never said when.”

“Blurr.”

“There’s still plenty of work. Quests to do and adventures to be had.”

“All of which are handled by someone else. Blurr.”

Shockwave rested his claws on his shoulders, tension making his body tremble til his wiring were taught. Neither wanted to hurt the other, but Shockwave was tired and Blurr could not hold on forever. Shockwave leaned down, craning his long neck around so that Blurr would be forced to face that burning ruby optic he loved so dearly.

“Uphold your oath.”

His chassis felt heavy, each intake hurt and his optics felt strained. He couldn’t turn away, he couldn’t ignore this any longer, Shockwave wouldn’t allow it.

“Can’t we...we could still.” Blurr tried, his strength feeling sapped away.

Shockwave slowly walked around him so he could kneel in front of his little knight, one clawed servo taking both of his hands while the other gently brushed the side of his face.

“Blurr, please. This body hurts.”

Blurr pulled one servo away to grip the one at his face. Fluids now falling from his optics.

“Set me free.”

His spark clenched tightly at his love’s words, wanting to scream, bargain, argue that something could be done. That if he held on longer then they could find a way to reverse what had been inflicted. Gritting his denta, Blurr stepped forward to nestle against Shockwave, taking in the oily scent of tainted magic and the constant lingering coldness that wafted from Shockwave. He closed his eyes as Shockwave gently wraps his arms around him, quietly muttering under his breath.

Servos pressed against Shockwave’s chassis exploded with rapid magic, tearing apart all it touched faster than Shockwave’s body could repair itself. The choke then then gasp of pain only force Blurr to pour more energy in the spell, anything to kill him faster. Anything to lessen both of their misery. Rot and oil spewed across the ground when Blurr forced his arms open, ripping apart the now dead body. A golden light remained in the air, happily buzzing and flying around Blurr before stopping right at his face. The visage of the old senator, his hero, his teacher, his beloved, appearing, gently pressing his face to Blurr’s. His servos cradling his jaw, wiping away his tears. A small gesture of thanks, before he flew away, high into the stars above them.

Blurr couldn’t stop the little smile on his face, “You are beautiful.”

@somerandomcockroach and @keferon I blame you and your beautiful works with the spellbound au and your transformers art.

#I had more but anything else didnt feel right #Anyways I hope you like it #spellbound #shockblurr #transformers

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marooningmirrorball · 2 months ago

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Splattered Coffee and Spare Blouses

A/n: hello lovelies! this is my first ever fanfic so please be kind to me when you read this 🫣 any sort of feedback will be appreciated🤞also there is no physical description of reader, that picture was just the first cute white blouse that i saw on pinterest. i hope you like it!

content: coworker!rafe x coworker!reader

content warnings: complete ooc rafe, like not even a little bit canon. jealous rafe. desperate reader and rafe. idiots in love fr. coworkers/office au (?)

word count: 1.2k words

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

Rafe is too busy drinking in the sweet melody of your voice to catch the actual content of your conversation with Matt. Or is it Mark? Mason? It doesn’t matter what his name is, the only relevant thing about the guy is that he delivers the paper to the office, and Rafe knows they’re getting a paper restock when he hears the tee-heeing of your giggle aimed at something supposedly funny that Miles joked about as he stacks the reams of paper on the tall shelves behind your desk.

You don’t actually ‘tee-hee’, it’s more of a soft chortle. Rafe likes to think he knows the difference, he tries to bypass these dreary office hours by studying each laughter.

First he takes in the sound and how much it made his heart clench, then he looks at your expression; happy, shy, nervous, anxious (he’s even found the difference between those two!), angry. Lastly he takes in the context of the laugh.

It’s definitely a titter when your boss is reprimanding your newest co-worker with the frosted tips, it’s a hodgepodge of a shy-nervous giggle when your boss is reprimanding you, and it’s absolutely a guffaw when Rafe delivers a joke he’d been meticulously planning before he presents it to you.

It usually doesn’t matter what type of laugh it is, the soundwaves from it wrap his heart up and squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, until Rafe forces himself to leave the room, because it can’t be normal to feel this way about a girl you've only been working with for the last three months.

But this isn’t all those other times, it's that unusual time of the month. What could a man who delivers paper to a pool coverings company possibly say to make you let out that joyous sound? What does a pool company even need paper for? Rafe, running his pointer finger along the rim of his coffee mug, comes up blank when he starts to really think about the former rhetorical question, he’s not too sure he ever wants to interact with Mike that will allow him to find out.

Too late. The kerfuffle Rafe accidently caused due to clumsy hands and an even clumsier brain leaves his (luckily) empty mug toppled, but Rafe’s not so blessed when his fallen over mug lands on his pen, triggering it to leap from his desk and splatter into your (unluckily) full mug.

You spin around in your chair at the commotion of Rafe’s, “Shit!”.

Rafe thinks being shot in the big toe would be less painful than this. It’s a Grade A Disaster. All he can see is the deep brown liquid dispersed in sporadic splats all over your previously white blouse.

“Holy shit, are you alright?”, Marcus is pulling out his handkerchief, of course Paper guy carries a handkerchief, in record time, dabbing away at the marks that have the clear intention to find a permanent home on your work top.

Rafe isn’t given a chance to play hero, before Milo is badgering, “Man, why are you doing trick shots right now? Aren’t you a sales guy?”, Rafe; however, is too mortified to think about a snarky comeback as he instead spews out a stumbled apology.

“Y/N, I-I am so so sorry– tha-that really wasn’t on purpose! I-I can–I will replace your shirt after work, I’m so sorry!”, it all comes out jumbled and untidy. A red-faced Rafe runs a hand down his face in exasperation before he’s suddenly up and grabbing at the fallen dishware, “Let me just-let me go get you some paper tow-”

You put an end to his unnecessary apologies with a gentle touch to his right hand that possesses the culprit. Rafe thinks his heart actually stopped.

The grin you bless him with manages to calm him down, “Rafe, you're okay! Don’t stress about it–really. It’s an old blouse anyway.”

And…what?

Rafe just managed to completely demolish your clothes, yet it’s you who is showing him kindness in this weak moment, “Look, if you’re really bummed out about it and want to reimburse me, I do need to go to the mall after this so…”, you drag out and let him fill in the blanks.

So did the mug actually fall onto Rafe’s head? Did he fall into a state of unconsciousness and wake up in a dream land? This can’t be real.

The scoff and retreat of Marcello’s boots snap him out of his thoughts, this is his life. This is his life and he has been staring at you in disbelief for too many silent seconds because you quickly begin to slip the offer out of his hands, “Uhh–well you don’t really have to join me to shop, I just thought since-”, now you're interrupted by Rafe’s reassurances,

“No! Wait–I mean yes! Erm I don’t actually know what I’m meaning to say”, you think the blush sporting his face has got to be the cutest thing you’ve possibly ever seen as he carries on, “I would love to come with you, please!” Jesus, he thinks, try sounding more desperate, he quickly corrects himself.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be cool if I join along. I-If you don’t mind obviously…” he trails off, unsure and not wanting to impose, despite you literally just inviting him.

The shyness is evident in your voice when you softly say, “No, it would absolutely be fun if you came with”, God, you think, why did I add absolutely in there, he’s gonna think I’m desperate.

“Okay cool.”

“Cool.”

Henry, your coworker with the frosted tips, stands at the corner of Rafe’s desk with his arms crossed, “Can I get some paper or do I need to wait another five minutes until your flirting is done?”

The both of you cower slightly in embarrassment at his teasing, but don’t let it dim the bright smiles adorning your faces. Rafe is sure that there’s nothing in this moment that could, he just scored a hang out with the female coworker that he’s been crushing on for weeks now! Not even the sight of smug Martin could kick him off this high right now.

Your too-old desk chair groans as you stand from it, and suddenly Rafe’s worried that Henry’s comment may have bothered you, “Where are you going?”, his rushed tone causes a giggle to escape you,

“My top is still soaked Rafe”, you gesture to the stained garment with a laugh, “I’m just gonna fetch the spare in my car. What? Do you want to walk with me there too?” Rafe misses the joking lilt of your voice because he’s up and walking towards the reception before you can stop him.

When the two of you return from your car, you with a clean (albeit slightly wrinkled from sitting in your ‘just in case’ bag) blouse on and Rafe with a bashful expression, Henry wiggles his eyebrows at the pair of you, implying something out of nothing. You both ignore it and get back to your work, not without the two of you sneaking glances at each other when you know the other isn’t looking.

Long forgotten are Max’s bad jokes and flirting, Henry’s annoying teasing, and this afternoon’s coffee disaster as you and Rafe walk side by side in the mall, he doesn’t think life can get better than this.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊ ₊˚༺☆༻

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks #outerbanks fanfiction #obx #rafe outerbanks #rafe cameron fanfic

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abnormalshark · 17 days ago

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Jinx x reader (self harm comfort!) **NOT PROOFREAD!!!*

Synopsis: After a long day, you’re taken by surprise as your girlfriend Jinx comes home earlier than usual.

TW: SH, BLOOD, BLADES, ECT

It was a cold and quiet evening. Jinx was long gone for the night. Probably off in her workspace deeply absorbed in her creations. Although you supported her wholeheartedly You really did start to dread the lonely nights.

The thoughts in your head swarm at the dead of night like moths swarming to a dirty streetlight. The goosebumps on your arms multiplying as the ice cold blade pierces your skin.

“it’s the only thing that helps!”

“no one has to know.”

“Just this last time and I’ll quit.”

Those are the thoughts that plague you. Denial and reason bickering in your mind as the warm blood drips down your arm.

You exhale shakily but relieved as the pain from the cut forcefully takes your minds attention away from all of your insecurities and worries.

You’re lost in paradise. It feels nice not to think about it. Your legs feel like jelly and your hands shaking terribly as you try to hold up the towel tightly against your arm.

It doesn’t take long for you to start up again. Your soft fingers pick up the blade and you inhale deeply. Closing your eyes and taking in the moment. The blade makes contact once more. You open your eyes as Your pupils dilate at the sight.

“Y/n? what are you doing?” A raspy voice catches you by surprise. You raise your eyes towards the mirror in front of you. It’s her. Your girlfriend. Standing ever so comfortably against the door frame.

Suddenly your body starts to move grabbing nearly everything in sight trying to hide it from her view. Tears start to dribble out of your eyes. “F-Fuck! I- listen I just- I-“ your sentences turn into words and soon enough your words turn into intolerable sounds. However, you’re immediately brought back when jinx’s cold hands touch your shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve dealt with this stuff too ya know… I know how to help.” She takes your arm without warning and starts to clean it. Occasionally she’d respond with a tiny ‘ow sorry’ when you wince. “I- I don’t know I just-“ you take a deep breath to gather your words. “I know you have your own problems and I just have all these thoughts in my head that won’t stop.” Your shaky voice spews out.

“You dummy…” jinx’s eyes look yearningly at yours. “That doesn’t mean you have to face it alone.” She mumbles. She sounds as if she might cry just watching you in pain.

You can’t help but notice your girlfriend looks rather cute from this perspective. Worried and concerned yet… so calm.

“I love you” the words burst out of your mouth. You didn’t expect them to come out but you’re not upset that they did.

Jinx lets out a hearty chuckle. She kisses you ever so gently as she rubs her thumb over the bandages on your arm. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

She gets up alarmingly fast. Eyes closed as she stretches her arms up towards the ceiling. “C’mon, we better go before Isha tries to break the laws of physics and magically put her ear through the door.”

She laughs and smiles warmly at you. “By the way… I am going to bug you about your feelings later. You’re not off the hook yet, ‘Kay?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　

! Idk I legit wrote it half asleep but hope you still enjoyed it!! Merry christmas everyone!!

#arcane #jinx x reader #arcane x reader #arcane fic #powder arcane #jinx arcane #comfort fic #wlw post #wlw fiction #wlw #arcane wlw

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spirit-lanterns · 1 year ago

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MILLION DOLLAR GIRL

synopsis: kafka wants to add you to her bounty.

featuring: kafka

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, strap on, pet names, sort of enemies to lovers, doggy style, hair pulling, catching feelings, mentions of one night stands, slight degradation, mockery, gro.ping, pretty wholesome even for a smut, not proofread.

art credits: what does the fox say

“For someone so whiny, you sure quiet down once I put some inches in you, hm?”

Kafka chuckles darkly at the sight of you all sprawled out on your bed, pounding away at your cunt with the dark purple strap on tied to her hips. You and Kafka had a complicated relationship, as your father wanted her dead, but you wanted her in your bed. Spewing a love-hate relationship between you two, as you couldn’t help but fall for the Stellaron Hunter’s charms, only to end up bent over your bed with her cock slamming into you.

“You came at the worst— nnngh…time…” you groaned, feeling her hips slap against your ass with the most brutal rhythm you’ve ever felt.

“I come whenever I want, sweet thing,” Kafka says nonchalantly, smacking a hand to your rear to keep you steady for her. “Your father will never catch me, he’ll never think to check his sweet little daughter’s room for a Stellaron Hunter…”

She delivers a particularly sharp thrust to your folds and you automatically collapse to your stomach. The fat tip of her cock pushing so deeply and making you moan with ecstasy. “Mmm, that’s a sound I love to hear,” Kafka chuckles, her deep and husky voice sending shivers down your spine. “You never disappoint, princess…”

You roll your eyes and grit your teeth, trying to get back up and prove her wrong. “Why did you even c-come here…it’s too dangerous, the whole ship is on lockdown.”

“You think I’m afraid of a little risk, dear?” Kafka laughs, angling her hips so she could get you back down on your stomach. “You must not know me that well, then.”

You gasp when she grabs your hips and starts slamming back into you with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs. The thick, girthiness of her shaft proved too much for you to handle as you gripped your bedsheets to muffle your mouth from screaming.

“Hmmm, that’s no good…” Kafka tuts, reaching a hand over to your scalp with tease. “I want to…hear you!”

She suddenly yanks you up by the hair and you gasp from the sheer pain and pleasure you felt at that moment. “Oh! Kafka, fuck…!” You whimpered.

“There’s my girl…” she grins, licking her lips and having a grand ole time rutting into you. “Oh, I just wish I could see the look on your old man’s face when he finds out what I’m doing to you.”

She smirks at the thought and looks up at the ceiling with amusement. “To think his sworn enemy; me, was actually fucking his daughter in her bedroom this whole time…” she laughs and starts thrusting her cock even faster at the thought, getting turned on at the idea of ruining you. “What would your father think, dear?”

She looks down at you with a satisfied smile, knowing she’s got you right where she wants you.

“Mmh…my father will…kill you on the spot…” you groan, your body instinctively moving on its own to meet the thrusts of Kafka’s hips.

“Yeah, but you won’t let him, will you?” Kafka grins, leaning over to get a little closer to your ear. “You love me too much to do that. So much so that you’re getting drunk on my cock right now…”

Your cunt throbs at her words and you can’t help but whimper at the thought. You knew it was wrong to be sleeping with a Stellaron Hunter that your father so desperately wanted to arrest, but you couldn’t help it. She was just so charming and flirtatious, so much so that after just one meeting on your ship, she had you in your bed and completely stripped of your clothes. Ensuring the beginning of numerous one night stands with the Stellaron Hunter, as Kafka will oftentimes break into the ship just to sleep with you…

And yet, that’s what you thought this was, just another one night stand with Kafka like always. You didn’t think too much of it, but this time it seemed a little different. Kafka was more clingy, more possessive. It was prominent in the way she held you close, wrapping her arms around your torso and pressing sweet kisses to the back of your neck. She was more loving, less lustful. And you were starting to feel the side effects.

“You know, I can’t help but wonder how you feel about all this,” Kafka hums, hugging you from behind while moving her hips at a slower rhythm. “You give in to me so much easier now, perhaps…you’re starting to like me back?”

You bit your lip and cursed at the fluttery feeling inside your chest. Somehow, you had fallen for the Hunter’s charms and ended up catching feelings throughout your sporadic one night stands. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, but the heart wants what the heart wants and you couldn’t bear to say no.

“…You’ve gone quiet now. Where was all that yap from earlier?” She whispers, tilting your chin up to look back at her. When you continued to stay silent, however; the thought dawned upon her and realization struck. Oh. You did fall for her. To the point where you were too embarrassed to admit your carnal desire for the woman.

“…I see.” Was all she said at your silence, slowly moving closer to hug you more affectionately. “Well, you don’t have to make that decision yet. I’m making it for you.”

“Wha— ah!” You gasped as she began slamming her shaft harder and deeper, guttural groans escaping Kafka’s throat, as she brought you closer to the brink of climax. “I’ve always fancied having you around, sweet girl.” She smirked, gripping her fingers around your breasts and squeezing whilst going to town. “So I figured, enough was enough. I want to have you as my companion.”

Her eyes softened at the way you tensed up in her hold, snaking an arm around your stomach before leaning in to kiss your shoulder.

“You’re probably worth about…what, five million credits? Ten million? Hundred million?” She chuckles as you grip her shaft with need, her movements slowing down as it was clear you were getting close to your high. “Either way, you’re worth more than anything in this galaxy right now.”

Your breath hitched as you tighten around her cock, feeling the ridges rub you closer to your orgasm while Kafka spoke sweet sentences in your ear.

“I’d love to add you to my bounty, rack up the numbers with you by my side,” she sighs at the idea and is left daydreaming about the reaction of your father when he finds out about this. You, his sweet, innocent daughter joining the Stellaron Hunters of all people? He would have a heart attack…

“So, what do you say, my dear?” Kafka hums, shoving her length as far as it could go before feeling you release all over her harness. “Care to join me on my bounty? You’d be worth quite a pretty penny…”

Your breathing was labored, and sweat coated your skin, yet you turned to face her with a knowing smile.

“Do I…hah…have a choice?”

Kafka laughs at your expression before moving down to kiss you.

“Mm, sorry, you don’t.”

You smiled at that.

#kafka smut #kafka x reader #kafka x you #hsr smut #hsr x reader #star rail smut #star rail x reader #hsr women smut #hsr women x reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x reader

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dumbkiri · 5 months ago

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𝕯𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖄𝖔𝖚 2

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ

𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐞𝐧𝐚 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

@lionheart178

You both asked for it and I couldn't resist. If this is well received as much as the first part, part three will include Rhaenys v Aegon v Aemond

Apologies for any mistakes spelling wise and story wise. HOTD is confusing okay!

[Name] woke up at the beginning of dawn with a knock at the door. The knock only stirred him awake because he trained his body to wake at any sound, also because he stayed alert after what happened last night. He couldn’t allow another assassination to happen under his nose.

He blinked his eyes open and looked around the bed. Somehow Daenerys and her dragons made their way in between him and Helaena, the little girl being embraced by her mother protectively. The man sighed at the peaceful sight and he took himself out of bed with smooth movements. He didn’t want to stir his family from their sleep, not yet anyways.

The person at the door had a great amount of patience, [Name] noted. So the list of names got shorter. It couldn’t be his twin, Aegon, or his younger brother Aemond. Both would have stormed in without a second thought. His mother had patience, but her anxiety would have made her knock on the door again. The other people on this list like the council members, he didn’t want to talk to at such an early time.

Politics were boring.

Even still, he slipped a loose shirt over his head and popped his arms into the sleeves. Then he walked over to the door, the sleep gone from his eyes and his lips ready to spew out a curse here and there at the person for wanting to have a conversation so early.

His hand grabbed the handle of the door and he opened it up to reveal a disheveled Aegon. His twin brother looked like a terrible mess and [Name] swiftly brought him into the large room. Aegon didn’t need to be seen by the castle people. Lords and Ladies would be talking about him for days, maybe even weeks about how he looked.

The curse words on his lips fell short when he caught a glimpse at his twin. [Name] led Aegon over to the couch and sat him down while he took a seat across from him. Aegon sniffled and looked over to the left where he saw bodies laying on the bed with relaxed breathing.

“They’re making mother and Jeyne follow Jaehaerys on a cart,” Aegon said softly looking back at [Name], “they s..stitched his-”

“I know, brother,” [Name] responded with a defeated sigh. It was no secret what those ratcatchers did to Jaehaerys. The poor boy had no reason to go through that pain and suffering. “You can tell Otto not to go through with this. You can grieve in a healthy way, Aegon. Have you seen your queen at all?”

Aegon looked down at the floor with his hands fumbling over with each other, “No.”

[Name] leaned back into the sofa and said, “You should go and see her.”

“She can’t see me like this!” He whispered, gesturing to his messy look. His red eyes puffy from all the crying he did. His breath smelled of wine too.

“It’ll be good for her to see you like that,” [Name] replied, “because it shows Jeyne that you are a grieving father. She is a grieving mother, you think she looks pretty like a queen right now?”

Aegon processed his words and he wiped his nose with his sleeve. Then he asked, “How do you not look like me? How can Helaena sleep as if her son didn’t die?” The glare didn’t go unnoticed by [Name] and he leaned forward feeling animosity radiate off of Aegon’s body. If Aegon wanted to speak ill about him and his wife, he should have spoken to someone else.

But he bit his tongue and relaxed, his twin just needed to understand. To learn how to grieve properly.

“I don’t look like you because I leaned on my wife for support. Helaena could sleep knowing I was in bed with her along with our daughter. Listen to what I have to say Aegon, you need your wife and she needs you. Nothing is more important than her. You do your best to love your family and to protect them.”

The lilac eyed man clutched his knees and sneered, “I regret not being there for them. I regret taking Balerion on patrol when I should have been asleep already. But she lifted the weight of my shoulders and loved me. She understood my plight despite dealing with her own. A husband and a wife need a sturdy foundation to stand on. If the floor beneath her crumbles, I know I’ll be there to hold her hand. To repair that foundation with her. That’s what you and Jeyne need to do. Grieve together, love each other and repair the foundation.”

[Name] lowered his voice when he saw a small body rise up in her bed. The little girl looked around frantically and finally spotted her father sitting on the sofas across the room. Quickly she slid out of bed and her feet carried her over to her father.

“Daenerys,” [Name]’s features softened and he opened his arms wide to capture his little girl in his arms, “why are you crying, little one?”

Aegon watched how loving his twin was. He never admitted it out loud, but [Name] made high expectations in being a father. He didn’t drink every night, he trained his son every day, cared for their studies and even joined Daenerys in her embroidery classes. To which brought happiness to Helaena.

“You weren’t in bed, I thought you left us,” Daenerys cried and hugged her father tightly. Meanwhile [Name]’s heart constricted with a little heartbreak. Left us, she said. Daenerys recognizes the danger without him, the consequences of an absent father. [Name] rubbed his hand up and down her back, bouncing the leg she sat on.

“Everything is alright, Dany. I’m here, I’m here,” He repeated and pressed a kiss at the crown of her head. After a time, her sobs quieted down and she remained in his arms, not wanting to go anywhere else.

Aegon with a small smile on his face said, “I forgot how close Dany was to you.” He spoke the truth. Daenerys very rarely left her father’s side besides when she had to go to classes. She often flew on Balerion with him and watched Rhaegar train in the fields. Daenerys admired her father a lot, no one could ruin his image. Not even the ratcatchers.

“You hear that Dany,” [Name] peered down and nudged his forehead against hers, “Your uncle thinks you spend too much time with me.”

Dany wiped her tears and said, “Not enough time, uncle. You always take Father away.” Her teasing glare made Aegon feign a surrender, his hands held up high. A chuckle left Aegon’s lips and [Name] came to another realization. Aegon didn’t need Jeyne to help him grieve.

“Please forgive me, dragon warrior,” Aegon playfully responded, “but your father is an exceptional fighter. He protects this kingdom so well and always stands up for me.”

Daenerys laughed and sat up wanting to play along with her uncle. The little girl wrapped her arms around [Name]’s neck and said, “But who will stand up for Father? Do you think you’re worthy enough to protect the Warrior of Light, the rider of Balerion?”

Aegon subtly looked at his twin and [Name] mouthed, “She takes play pretend seriously, you’re in for it now.”

To which, Aegon didn’t mind because this moment distracted him from the night before. His niece took away the pain, her demanding words and playful attitude brought him into a different world. Play pretend, [Name] called it. How often did his twin brother play like this with his children?

[Name] knew exactly what Aegon was thinking and he spoke up, “Daenerys and Rhaegar are very creative and imaginative. She plays the role of a dragon warrior, defender of the realm while Rhaegar played as a priest, a man of truth and light.”

Aegon smirked and before he could ask what was up with that, [Name] shook his head with a grin, “Don’t ask me why, Rhaegar was different in many ways. Anyways Helaena, chosen by Rhaegar, was the Queen and you could only imagine what they made me.”

“Oh~” Aegon kept his smirk, “they made you a king?”

[Name] laughed and responded with mirth, “A bloody peasant in love with the widowed queen.”

Aegon hollered and fell back into the cushions of the sofa. “Your kids hold you very high in opinion, but in their world they made you a peasant!” Aegon could not believe what he heard.

“Yes, we all dress up for our game too,” [Name] laughed again, “my clothes are very itchy, I tell you.”

The brothers laughed together, but [Name]’s died down a bit before Aegon’s. The older twin enjoyed seeing that smile on his brother’s face. Aegon needed him, [Name] told himself. Him and his family to cheer him up. But they were to leave, very soon. Guilt ate at him and he debated whether to tell Aegon of his plan, but his brother wouldn’t take it lightly.

[Name] planned to move to the other side, taking Dreamfyre and Balerion with him. Taking Moonlight, Nightmare and Frostfang, his children’s dragons. That’s adding two dragon riders to the Blacks. Technically one because Helaena could never burn people. [Name] would have to make that point abundantly clear to the Blacks.

“Aegon, there’s something I must tell you.”

[Name] saw Aegon catch his breath, a faint smile still present on his face.

“You are strong, brother,” [Name] kindly said, “Yes, others may think you’re only a drunk. But I’ve seen you in the throne room trying to help out your subjects. Only to have Otto strike you down. I’ve seen you try to take charge, only to have that fire stoked out by the council members.”

[Name] brought his lilac eyes to meet Aegon’s shining eyes, “Do what you must to keep your fire burning. Because once it’s out, who knows how long it’ll take to rekindle it. Don’t let Mother strike you down, don’t let Otto control you anymore and most of all, don’t let Aemond underestimate you. You are their King, not their pawn.”

A spark ignited in Aegon’s chest. Little did [Name] know, his fire was already out. But his words ignited the hearth in his heart. And it burned with strength and passion. Then [Name] stood up, carrying a quiet Daenerys in his arms.

Aegon followed quickly and shook his head, “You should have been King, [Name]. I don’t know why Father chose me when you were the perfect candidate.”

Smoothly [Name] responded, “I never wanted it.” The confusion on Aegon’s face made [Name] continue, “The crown, the throne, it’s all a game. I don’t know how to play it and you don’t know either. But Otto does, he played it well too. Having his daughter court our father while he grieved for our half sister’s mother was a ploy to get one of us on the throne. To have someone he can control. Do you think you sit on the throne, brother?”

Aegon blinked then casted his eyes onto the floor, “Not really. No one takes me seriously. The council meetings take place with my opinions never heard.”

“Which is why you announce your presence. Every member of the council is afraid of Aemond because he rides Vhagar. Everyone is afraid of me because I have Balerion. What can you do to make them afraid of you?”

“I don’t know.” Aegon replied.

[Name] shifted Daenerys to his other hip and said, “We all have something in common that people are afraid of. Dragons are dragons, beasts the normal folk cannot begin to understand. Not like us. So show them you’re a dragon rider and a king, make them afraid of you. You’re the rider of Sunfyre.”

Aegon cleared his throat and walked over to the door. He felt a shift in the room and he looked back at his brother. This moment, it felt too somber and Aegon had to tell him something too.

“Brother, thank you for this.”

[Name] nodded, “I always have your back, Aegon.”

After Aegon left, [Name] moved over to the bed and wasn’t surprised that Helaena woke up. Perhaps she had already risen long ago.

“Hello, my sweet lady,” [Name] sang and placed Dany on the bed next to her mother. Then he leaned over and pressed a light kiss on Helaena’s lips. His hands held her face with love and he pressed into a little deeper. She returned his passion and asked in between his kiss, “Did you mean it when you said it to Aegon?”

“Of course, I did,” [Name] pulled back and sat by her bedside, taking her hands into his own. He rubbed her knuckles and brought them up to his lips. He kissed her gently and put them back on her stomach. “Now we shall get ready for our journey before the rest of the castle wakes.”

Helaena pushed herself upward and suddenly embraced her husband. His eyes widened in surprise and he looked down at his wife with questions. Nonetheless, he kept his mouth shut and embraced her back. She felt amazing with her chest pressed up against his. He could feel her heartbeat, hear the slow breaths her lungs took in. Without noticing, his hands dragged themselves lower holding onto her waist.

He dipped his head down and his lips started leaving a trail of kisses on her neck. One hand held her back pressing her further into him while the other hand held her head. His fingers threading in her long hair and pulling the strands gently down, so she could look up at the ceiling. It gave him more access to her neck, to her breasts.

He would have dived straight for them if she didn’t remind him who was watching. “This isn’t the place, [Name],” Helaena spoke timidly and he pulled back to see Dany covering her eyes with her small hands. He chuckled with an apology to his wife and daughter.

“You’re very hard to resist, my love. Excuse my behavior.” He pressed a sweet kiss on her cheek and stood up, ignoring the beautiful look in her innocent eyes.

Helaena smiled at his bashful look and pushed the throbbing in her core away. Yes, he was also very hard to resist. She’s surprised they didn’t have more children running around them. In due time, she told herself.

……

They’ve been in the air for quite some time and the morning sun began to rise with soft yellows and pinks. [Name] opted out on wearing his black armor while riding with his children, but kept Hellfire strapped to his waist.

Viserys, given a medicine to help him sleep during the flight, drooled onto [Name]’s shoulder. The father didn’t mind and he looked down in front of him to see Daenerys holding onto the cages that kept the three tiny dragons there safely. Her long hair braided into two and she wore a light blue dress paired with her mother’s.

[Name] looked to his left and watched Helaena fly quietly next to him. She was a good distance away from him because of Baelrion’s long wingspan. So he kept a careful eye on her from time to time as well as their surroundings. If the Blacks attacked them now, the fight would be devastating for his surrendering family.

He came for answers and sanctuary. He didn’t want a fight.

Finally Dragonstone came into view and [Name] commanded Balerion with a powerful voice to land on a beach near the Black’s base. Balerion roared into the sky to announce their presence, no doubt alarming the people in Dragonstone. The descent was a little too fast for Viserys and the tiny boy cried all the way down, alarming Helaena who followed after the Black Dread.

When they touched, Balerion dug his claws into the sand and lowered his neck so the Targaryen family could climb down. [Name] being the first one off the giant dragon helped his daughter down. The small girl watched hopped into his arms, careful that the cage didn’t smack him.

Helaena touched down fast next to Balerion and released the reins on Dreamfyre while [Name] moved the swaddle from his back to his front.

He tried to ease Viserys and when he turned around to ask his wife for help, Helaena was already next to him. A worried mother is quick to help her babes, he’s always reminded. [Name] handed Viserys over to his wife with no hesitation and she soothed him with gentle caresses and hushed mumbles.

Then a loud screech resounded in the sky and he looked up to see three dragon riders making their way to the beach. A golden dragon, a burning red one and a small one. [Name] knew these dragons and their riders, Rhaenyra, Rhaenys and Jace. Luckily for him, Daemon wasn’t with them.

The three landed on the beach a safe distance away from Balerion who challenged them a little too quickly for [Name]’s liking. The black beast held his head high and covered [Name]’s family with a wing. Daenerys awed at the sight and Helaena looked at [Name] wearily.

“Lykiri, Balerion,” [Name] walked forward with a hand raised at his defensive dragon, “lykiri.”

Balerion quieted down, his throat bobbing up and down a few clicks and groans rumbling in his chest. His tail swished about on the sand and he lowered his head down to his rider, pressing his large head onto [Name]’s side making the man stumble on the sand.

With a quick pet, [Name] ran his hand down the scales and rough skin of Balerion’s snout. His eyes dragged away from his beast to the three hesitant dragon riders across from him. He looked back at his family and Helaena gave him a nod of approval. This wasn’t a fight, [Name] reminded himself as he walked forward. Be respectful and pledge your support to Rhaenyra.

Offer yourself and Balerion to her cause, he told himself again.

When he walked up to a respectful distance for a conversation, [Name] greeted his estranged family, “Sister, cousin and nephew, I don’t mean to alarm you.”

Was that a good start? To let them know that he wanted no fight. He didn’t use their titles, not quite used to addressing them as so since he acknowledged his brother as the king and such.

“If not to alarm us,then what do you want?” Jace questioned, resting his hand on the pommel of his sword.

[Name]’s own fingers itched to rest on Hellfire, but if he did that Balerion would take it as a sign to defend his rider and his family. So he kept his hands at his sides and responded with a calm tone, nothing like Jace’s hostile tone.

“Originally I came here looking for answers-”

“With two dragons at our front door, one bigger than the rest of ours?”

Rhaenrya and Rhaenys both snapped their heads over at Jace to silently tell him to keep his mouth shut. Both being mothers and both wanting to know the reason why [Name] was here. But if the lilac eyed man kept getting interrupted, then he wouldn’t get to the point.

“Please, nephew, let me finish my sentence,” [Name] gritted his teeth, his patience running thin, “I came here looking for answers about my son’s death. They are pinning Jaehaerys’ death and Rhaegar’s on your shoulders. So did you or did you not give the order to murder our sons?”

He directed his question to his half-sister.

“Sons?” Her voice faltered and she took a step forward, “Rhaegar was killed as well?” Rhaenrya looked behind [Name] and saw a visibly concerned Helaena with Daenerys and Viserys by her. But no Rhaegar.

[Name] sadly nodded, his throat constricted closing the airways painfully. He cleared it away and said, “He died trying to protect his cousin. They slammed him up against the wall and strangled him. My boy didn’t stand a chance against a ratcatcher.”

“I-I,” Rhaenyra’s eyes watered up, “I did not give the order, this was done without my knowledge by my husband.”

Immediately a scoff left his lips and [Name] looked over at the water. He muttered with a disdainful look on his face, “Of course he did, I’m sure he did it to get revenge for you. Aegon is looking to do the same, but I am not. I blame my mother and her cunt of a guard, Cole.”

“What happened?” Rhaenys asked, trying to get the whole story. They received word that Jaehaerys was killed, but no mention of Rhaegar. Now [Name] put the blame on his own mother and her sworn protector, Criston Cole.

“I went out to fly Balerion in the night while Helaena and Jeyne entertained the children in their rooms. One ratcatcher and a man of the Night’s Watch came in claiming ‘A son for a son’. They cut Jaehaerys’ head off while another strangled Rhaegar. This happened because the knights were relieved from their watch on the order from their Lord Commander. While the boys were on their way to their deaths, Jeyne and Helaena took the remaining kids out of the room looking for help. But there was none. So Helaena went into our mother’s room.”

He took a deep breath in and balled up his hands, he looked back at Rhaenyra and finished off his explanation, “My son died because my mother wanted to get a good fuck in before she turned in her bed.”

Rhaenyra couldn’t believe it, but at the same time she did. Alicent always posed as this woman of faith. Cole posed as a man worthy of the white cloak, ordering people here and there like he was above them. But they were scum, trash beneath her feet. They disgusted her.

“We are very sorry to hear about this, [Name],” Rhaenys spoke for the emotional Rhaenyra, “We would never order something like this, we want to avoid fighting as much as we can. We tried reaching out to your mother-”

[Name] rubbed his chin and pulled his sword out, it didn’t ignite into flames, but it unnerved the three members of the Targaryen family. Their dragons, mainly Syrax and Meleys, roared at the action. In turn Balerion puffed out his chest and let out a louder roar than those two dragons combined.

The sand hit his back and [Name] took a knee, surrendering his valyrian sword over to Rhaenyra. With his head bowed, [Name] spoke, “I don’t care what happens to my brother or mother. I only care about my remaining family. As a father it’s my responsibility to choose them. So here I am, pledging myself and my dragon to your cause. If you’ll have us, Queen Rhaenyra, I will put an end to the Hightower-Targaryens. I will answer your call and go to battle with Balerion. You do not have a need for an army anymore when you have us.”

The three Targaryens looked at each other very shocked to see a Green kneel before them. Pledging his support to Rhaenyra, she couldn’t believe the rider of the Black Dread was doing this. The Blacks have always been afraid of the green monstrosity Aemond rode even more so of Balerion.

Yet the rider, [Name] Targaryen, had different views in this war.

“I accept you and your family, brother.” Rhaenyra walked up to [Name], her dress fluttering in the light breeze. She could hear the small protest Jace let out of his mouth, but Rhaenyra knew [Name].

He was the only brother she didn’t feel threatened by. He always stated that he was happy father named her his heir, saying that he never wanted the crown and its burdens. Plus she saw the love for Helaena in his lilac eyes. He would never bring her harm.

Rhaenyra kneeled down and picked up his head with her hands. The tears running down his face cemented the fact that [Name] needed her to accept him and his family. His hands dropped his sword and he hugged Rhaenyra tightly, holding onto her like a son does to his mother when looking for comfort.

“She didn’t apologize to us,” [Name] growled out, “She had my son killed and she defended Cole instead of admitting to her faults.”

Rhaenyra accepted his hug and said, “I don’t know why she did that.” His words carried in her stomach heavily, he truly did blame the death of Rhaegar on Alicent. It almost felt like he hated his mother. Rhaenyra pulled away from him and wiped his tears away with a frown on her face.

“You would fight for me? Kill your brothers if the situation calls for it?”

[Name]’s eyes hardened and he didn’t falter in saying, “I pledged my help Rhaenyra, I will answer any call and support the Blacks in the battles to come. I will support you.”

Rhaenyra’s frown curved upward into a gracious smile, “Let’s get you and your family settled in some rooms. You can send Balerion and Dreamfyre to hunt after we land in Dragonstone. Then we can talk about your place in the council.”

“My place in the council?” [Name] asked and picked up his sword from the sand and followed after her to stand proudly. He sheathed Hellfire back into its holster and watched Rhaenyra.

His sister nodded her head and said, “There’s a lot of old men on my council. They say they support me, but disagree with me on almost everything. They want to spill blood, but we don’t have capable dragons to do so.”

[Name] agreed with her words, “Yes, that is true. Father always said your dragon was more of a spoiled mother than a warrior. Meaning no offense to you or Syrax.” He chuckled seeing the expression on Rhaenyra’s face.

“Yes, well the ones capable of fighting are Meleys and Caraxes, but we need them for Vhagar or even Balerion.” She looked over at the Black Dread and his red eyes pierced her bright ones. “Now that you’re here, we could do a lot of defending our supporters and their homes. I will pair you with Rhaenys, you two could pose to be a formidable duo. One with speed and the other power.”

“Well we do pose a huge threat to Aegon’s claim to the throne, sister,” [Name] looked back at his wife and remembered something important.

“But I will not allow Helaena to fly Dreamfyre. Both of them will remain in Dragonstone, safe from any battle.”

Rhaenyra understood his demand, but she had to know why. “Any particular reason why she cannot fly her dragon to battle?”

“Have you ever seen Helaena hurt a creature, crawling or walking?” [Name] shot back feeling defensive for his wife.

“Well no, I heard she likes to keep bugs and take care of them.” Rhaenyra responded with a small laugh.

[Name] smiled back, “That she does, sadly we had to leave the ones she had in King’s Landing behind. My point is she cannot give the command to burn people, sister. Please don’t make her do it.” He begged.

“Of course not,” Rhaenyra reassured him, “She will remain here with your children.”

“There’s something else I would like to ask of you,” [Name] stopped Rhaenyra and looked back at Balerion. “I don’t know if you noticed, but Rhaegar…he’s with us too. We would like him to be honored here at Dragonstone in Targaryen tradition.”

“We shall set it all up for you, will Balerion be the one to ignite the pyre?”

“No,” He stretched his hand out and Daenerys immediately ran over to her father. As his little one ran towards him, Rhaenyra spotted the two dragons; one perched on her shoulder and the other clinging to her hip. “Daenerys has bonded to two dragons, Moonlight and Nightmare; Rhaegar’s dragon. She will command them and we shall see if Nightmare truly bonded with her or just smells Rhaegar on her.”

“An interesting child, you have,” Rhaenyra commented lightly.

And [Name] would have it no other way.

……

The Targaryen family stood behind the Hightower family respectfully watching Balerion with weary eyes along with their council members and guards. If [Name] wanted to he could turn his attention on them and have his beast burn them in black fire.

But Rhaenyra reminded them of his oath to support her. After all, [Name] came to Dragonstone to honor his son and protect his remaining family.

Daenerys stood at the side of the pyre holding back her tears. She watched Rhaegar being tackled by the ratcatcher, heard his last words then the clang of his dagger when it fell from his hand. She was going to miss his stupid jokes and his protective nature. She held her hands out, Moonlight perched into her right hand and Nightmare on her left hand.

They looked at her as if they waited for her command. “Brother,” Dany spoke quietly, no one could hear her over the crashing waves below the cliff, “In our next life, I hope we live long enough to rule the skies together.”

A moment passed then she gave out the infamous command, “Dracarys.” The two dragons looked away from her and aimed their snouts at the pyre. Slowly they opened up their mouths and breathed out a stream of orange fire. The twigs caught on fire first before the chain reaction began.

The funeral rite went slow and [Name] walked up to Daenerys, letting go of Helaena’s hand. He pulled his daughter away from the small fire, so he could finish it off with Balerion’s black fire. He gave a subtle nod to everyone surrounding Rhaegar’s body and immediately they all backed up.

“My love,” He spoke to Helaena and handed Daenerys’ hand over to hers. Helaena hugged a crying Dany who could no longer hold her tears. Then he walked a bit forward away from his mourning family, holding the pommel of his sword tightly.

“Balerion!” He shouted over the waves.

The black dragon shook his whole body responding to his rider’s call. The ground beneath his clawed talons broke under the pressure of his weight.

“Dracarys!”

Balerion puffed out his chest, his wings spread out and his neck peered over the pyre in a grim image to the rest of the people. His large mouth opened up and all they saw was a dark pit, the fire blending in the dark of his mouth. With a resounding screech, Balerion breathed his black fire onto Rhaegar’s body.

[Name] watched on in silence, hearing his wife and daughter cry out in anguish. They couldn’t express their sorrow the night of. But here, they let the water flow out of their eyes like a river. The crackling of the fire, the waves below and their cries felt unreal to him as he lost himself in his thoughts.

If he ever sees Criston Cole on the battlefield, he’ll snatch him from the ground. He’ll bring the oathbreaker into the skies, above the clouds and let him fall to his death. He wanted to instill fear into Cole. He wanted to burn Cole, he wanted to behead him. There were so many ways to kill a man.

The black smoke reached the skies and he turned away from the pyre. He outstretched his arms and embraced his girls. Daenerys clung to his leg while Helaena wrapped her arms around his neck.

Aegon may have gotten to the ratcatcher first, but Cole was his. This he will make sure of.

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