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hiraethwrote · 4 months ago

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she thought you were cute

summary: you've never had to worry about getting jealous being with Megumi. but one time has to be the first, right?

[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]

cw: college au, aged up characters, f!reader, sorority!reader, megumi being oblivious, jealousy!!, reader is kinda mean ngl, mild profanity (one use of hell), fluff

word count: 2.6k

Was jealousy a hot topic in your relationship? Well, it wasn’t unheard of. There was no denying you quickly garnered a respectable reputation as a part of the biggest sorority on campus — not to mention your radiating personality and beauty just had eyes draw towards you wherever you went. This did tend to ignite the tiniest spark of jealousy in Megumi, understandably so.

But god forbid he did anything about it — that would mean causing a scene which wasn’t his style. He mostly stuck to groaning a few curses to himself, complaining to his friends about the idiots who thought they stood a chance with you before he quickly relaxed once you joined them just to latch onto him.

You, on the other hand, were a different case.

There had never really been any situations to bring out the jealous side of you. You knew it existed, as you had never been very forgiving when people stepped into the territory of what was yours. But dating the quiet and reserved guy had its unforeseen advantages. Megumi did what he could to stay out of the limelight, never making heads turn. It had you feel special, being the the lucky girl to discover the hidden gem that was Megumi.

Or maybe you had just been lucky enough to discover him first.

His brooding and mysterious personality that had once made people steer clear of him in hallways, seemed to have a different affect in university. Suddenly you weren’t alone in making eyes at him.

You first became aware of this fact one random Wednesday, when you had planned to meet up with Megumi and his small group of friends in the library after a full day of classes to get some light reading done. You’d gotten a little confused when you had come to join their booth to find only Nobara and Yuji, while Megumi’s stuff was abandoned.

“Where’s Megs?”

Nobara didn’t even lift her head from her book, simply waving her hand in his general direction. Sitting down in the empty seat, you spotted him across the room, seemingly in deep conversation with a girl you had never seen before.

Wait- was that a smile you saw lurking on his lips?

Unfamiliar heat raised up your neck looking at the pair, how he casually had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants while she stood sweetly, her books pressed to her chest under her crossed arms.

“Nobara?” She only hummed softly in confirmation she heard you. “Who’s she?”

“Huh?” Her curiosity had her tilt her head to meet your grumbling expression staring daggers past her. She followed your gaze to observe the scene you were silently cursing. “Oh, that’s Yukiko. They have a few classes together.”

“Hmpf.” Your displeased tone caused Yuji’s attention to shift away from his laptop as well. Unbeknownst to you, the two of them shared an amused look, never expecting you to be the one to succumb to the cheap hex of jealousy. “So are they like friends or what?”

Nobara had lost all interest in delving deeper into her curriculum, because the sight of you leaning back in the chair, frumpy expression tightening your features and body jitter with agitation was a hell of a lot more entertaining.

“If you count sharing study notes as friends,” Yuji shrugged thinking his comment would be of help, but when he turned to look at you again he swore he could see a twitch under your eye.

You licked your lips, trying to peer your eyes off of the two… only succeeding for a second before you snapped your head in their direction again.

Tracing your eyes up and down her body, you were not quite a fan of what you observed, because strictly based on her appearance she looked a lot like a girl one thought Megumi would be with. She wore a dark and oversized outfit, her face kind, but had no distinct characteristics — definitely not the person to stick out in a room.

But the way she carried herself, hiding just under her cute and quiet exterior was a behaviour that reminded you of someone; you before Megumi. By the way she batted her eyelashes at him and occasionally twirling her hair around her finger, you had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared to be. Those were all tricks you knew all too well. You had perfected them, in fact. And now she was very charitably throwing them in the direction of your boyfriend.

And though you knew it meant nothing, you absolutely hated the fact that he was so politely accepting her gestures — because when you had presented yourself so sweetly to him way-back-when, he had shut you down.

The obnoxious sound of you frantically tapping your pen against the open book in front of you filled the space between the three of you, it being the only thing that stopped you from stomping over to them and prove to her she was definitely wasting her time.

Finally, their conversation came to an end, and there was no stopping your eyes from narrowing into a venomous squint when she so adorably wiggled her dainty fingers goodbye before he came to sit by the table.

“How was class?” Megumi asked softly, settling into a feeling of comfort now that you had finally joined him for the day — sadly, his usual sweet tone flew right over your head, the image of this Yukiko still gnawing at the back of your mind.

“Hm? Oh, just fine. Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged nonchalantly, turning to your notes as if nothing was bothering you.

However, you weren’t fooling Megumi, who from the second you opened your mouth knew something wasn’t quite right. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You shot him a small smile before returning to your work.

He only let his curious gaze linger on you for a few more seconds, hoping the reason for the annoyance you were trying to hide would show itself to him. But it never did — you just continued to let your pen travel hastily across the blank pages of your notebook, simply trying to erase the image of the girl he’d been talking to.

Megumi wanted to question you further, not really at peace when he knew something had you scowl. But he also knew if you didn’t flat out tell him what it was, it was better to let your frustration die out on its own. Whatever was going through your mind, you yourself thought you were being silly — and digging deeper would only hinder your process of letting it go.

Eight days went by before she triggered your jealousy again. And this time you didn’t manage to shove the thought of her to the darkest and most forgettable corners of your mind.

Entering his small dorm, you were greeted by the most charming little smile while he lazily paced around the room with his phone pressed to his ear. You didn’t hesitate to throw your bag on the kitchen counter before shuffling over to snake both arms tightly around his waist, pulling a low grunt from his lips at the sudden pressure of your embrace.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you soon.” Once he hung up, he threw his phone on the bed before he loosely wrapped his arms around you in return.

“Who was that?” You hummed quietly, eyes closed as you basked in his warmth that embraced you so lovingly.

“Just Yukiko who needed to borrow one of the books from the reading list.”

It didn’t take more than the sound of her name to evaporate the relaxation in your muscles. You slowly unlatched your arms around him and took a step back, letting them swing carelessly at your sides.

“She doesn’t have her own?” With a forced bounce in your step, you returned to your bag to retreat your phone, needing anything to fidget with in order to keep the flaming feeling inside you from blowing up.

“She does, but she forgot it when she was home from campus this weekend.”

“And the library doesn’t have a spare copy?”

“Apparently they were all checked out already.”

“Apparently,” you said spitefully, keeping your eyes fixated in the shut off device in your hand.

The unfazed act you put on served as much as a shear lace fabric, jealously shining through like a bright light. It was definitely a behaviour he’d never had the fortune of experiencing up close.

It reminded him a little of the impression he had gotten of you from afar, before he had the privilege of knowing you. Though he had never thought of you to be mean, some of the stereotypes of a popular girl he had theorised about, had proven over time to be a correct assumption — like the fact that you might have been a little spoiled. You definitely weren’t big on not getting what you wanted, especially when someone else wanted it as well.

“She wasn’t too far from here, so I was just going to meet her real quick and drop it off,” he said calmly as he went over to his bookshelf to pull out the book, which he had finished reading nearly two weeks ago.

“I’ll come with you!” Spinning around to face him again, you had your arms cutely tucked behind your back, sporting a smile sweet as sugar.

“It’s only gonna take like ten minutes-“

“No, no,” you cut him off, the forced cheerfulness in your voice slightly scaring him. “I’ll come with.”

Megumi definitely wasn’t the type of person to initiate a lot of public displays of affection, but he never shut it down whenever you rested your head on his shoulder when taking the train, or lacing your fingers with his when walking through campus.

However, the possessive grip you had on his hand right now was certainly different. He wouldn’t necessarily say unpleasant, because it was still you after all, but he did miss the tenderness your touch usually supplied.

“You’re meeting her here?” You asked, a somewhat mean lilt to your voice as you eyed the café you were standing in front of. With a roll of the eyes, he held the door open for you to walk in first, shielding away how the corner of his lips tugged upwards — because even though he hated to admit it, there was a small part of him that found it all slightly amusing.

It was always him who wallowed in the uncomfortable feeling of jealousy, lathering himself with patience whenever people ogled you. And here you were, grinding your teeth together at the first girl who talked to him — who even if she was flirting, Megumi was completely oblivious to it.

“Megumi!” Both your heads turned towards the voice, you having to lean forward to catch a glimpse of her past your boyfriend. When her eyes landed on you, a flash of stress travelled across her face before her smile returned to her glossed lips.

“Hey,” he spoke politely as the two of you approached her table, while you only flashed your pearly teeth in a confident smile.

“Hi,” you said, stretching your hand you straight. She reluctantly returned the handshake as you introduced yourself. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Yukiko.” Her tone was friendly enough, but you didn’t dare put your guard down, scouting for any subtle advances she might throw in his direction.

“Here you go,” Megumi said, handing her the thick book.

“You’re a lifesaver, Megumi! Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

With a burning sensation, you were convinced your instincts were right. The faintest shimmer in her eyes when she looked at his face was enough to expose her. And to think she had the guts to let her interest shine through when you were standing right there.

For the first time in a long time, your territorial side was brought out, making you hook your arm with his, deliberately drawing her attention to your hand grabbing his in a firm grip.

“So the two of you are like study buddies, I understand it?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she chuckled nervously, fingers tightening around the book in her hands.

“No?” Narrowing your eyebrows in faux confusion. “Thought you had shared notes and stuff?” When tilting your head to the side, your entire body shifted position which had you tug Megumi closer to you, but you managed to make it look so effortless — like you’re intentions were as pure as the driven snow.

“Sometimes,” she muttered, once again letting her gaze flicker to your hands.

Scarlet colour was slowly spreading across Megumi’s face, the heat melting his frozen posture. “We have to get going,” he mumbled shyly, slowly starting to back away towards the exit, pulling you along with him.

“Yeah, of course,” Yukiko said, the positive rhythm sneaking its way back to her words now that they were directed at Megumi again. “See you around.”

“Yeah, see you around,” you said with a slight bite to your tone, your fake smile blending into the frustrated scrunch of your nose. Megumi only had time to shoot her a tight lipped smile before the two of you exited the cafe in a hurry.

Once outside, reunited with air that wasn’t suffocating with hostility, your hand now held onto his with the care he was familiar with, your steps much lighter. You definitely seemed more at peace now when you had established your assertive character.

“She seems nice,” you cooed. Your attention snapped to him when he instantly snorted at your statement. By the slightly playful look he gave you, you thought he might have held back that reaction for a while.

“You know I always see through your lies, right?” He teased.

“Pfft,” you scoffed, retreating your hand from between you to blithely shove his shoulder. “I’m not lying!” His neck tilted to the side, soft squint staring right at you, causing the confession to tumble out without any struggle. “Fine, I don’t like her! But can you blame me?”

“Has she done something to you?”

Your feet stopped walking, blinking dumbfounded at him, letting his sentence digest in order to see if he was actually being serious. “You’re kidding?” All he did was shrug. Could he really be so blind? “You didn’t see what was going on there?”

“You’re telling me there was something to see?”

“Megumi, baby,” you chuckled lightheartedly, coming up to him to place a hand on each side of his face. “Do you think I was jealous over nothing?”

“I dunno,” he mumbled with yet another pull of his shoulders.

The adverse sprinkle to your mood was entirely forgotten, too smitten by the heedless behaviour of your boyfriend, not entirely convinced he actually hadn’t picked up on her attempt to catch his interest.

“She thought you were cute.” Another huff met you, accompanied by an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “No, I’m serious Megs,” you laughed, a sound that had his eyes instantly lock on you again. “But, the thing is, I’m the only one who’s allowed to think so.”

“Oh, is that right?” A smirk crept up on his lips.

“You’re my boyfriend after all, are you not?” You teased him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to swallow back the satisfactory that had festered in you, now about to spill out in victorious smiles.

Again rolling his eyes, hiding how we was just a little flattered at your antics, before indulging in the rare act of taking the lead in showing his affection. Draping his arms around your neck, he pulled you to his chest in a comforting hug.

“I sure am.”

tags (taglist is open) @sad-darksoul @nyahctrl @ssetsuka @aceakariii @chxlexauriana @ps-forgetmenot @thejujvtsupost @acowboykisser

if your @ is highlighted in pink, i was unable to tag you... tumblr is not cooperating sorry <3

a/n this is didn't end up as well as i pictured it in my mind but oh well... don't have all that many ideas atm, so might come another fic of them soon

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

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girllblogging777 · 20 days ago

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𝑠𝑙𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡 ༉‧₊˚.

↳ y/n being a victoria’s secret angel

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑜 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒

✩ his reaction would high key be a mix of pride and possessiveness

✩ he wouldn’t be able to hide how impressed he is, but would cover it up by making jokes about having to fight off anyone who looks at you the wrong way

✩ “guess i’ll have to come to the shows and keep an eye out on you, yeah ? wouldn’t want to see anyone getting ideas”

✩ ngl, kinda toxic but he’d definitely show you off and send pictures of you to his friends

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑡

✩ would probably be a bit more understated

✩ he’d raise an eyebrow at first, surprised, before giving you an appreciative smile

✩ “you’re full of surprises, aren’t you ?”

✩ however he’d prefer to keep his admiration private, telling you how beautiful you looked after the show and photoshoots

✩ the type of guy to record your entire runway performance on his phone even though he could definitely find videos on the internet if he wanted to

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑧𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑘𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑒

✩ genuinely SO impressed by your success and beauty

✩ but when the topic of an actual career and future in the modelling industry comes up, he’d turn passive aggressive

✩ “don’t you think it’s a little… revealing ? do you really need to constantly put yourself out there, strutting around half naked ?”

✩ really, he doesn’t actually mind seeing you like that. it’s more about how possessive he is of you

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑓𝑜𝑦

✩ oh please, that man would definitely act unimpressed at first. i mean, he’s a malfoy after all.

✩ slowly, he’d begin to brag about you to literally anyone who’d listen

✩ “yeah, my girlfriend is a model. she’s very high in demand too, cause well… she’s stunning”

✩ do i need to mention he’d attend every show and watch you from the front row ? cause yeah, he would

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑧𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑖

✩ somehow, that would boost his own ego

✩ you’d constantly catch him smirking as lther guys gawked at you

✩ he knows what they’re talking thinking, but he knows you’re his

✩ “they can look all they want, you’re mine anyways”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

tag list (comment if you wanna be added) @ilovematteoxx @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithmars @shiftingwithleah @fbvreadingblog @moonlightreader649 @bellatrix-lestrange5 @sp7-mr @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @iris-qt @yikesitslush @clar2aa @deadsnakey @deadghosy @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf

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il-miele-che-scrive · 8 months ago

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the one where Y/n and Charles had different priorities

this is maybe a bit chaotic because I had one idea and unclear vision, but I like how it turned out eventually

view all comments

username1 How do you know? HOW DO YOU KNOW?!

username2 They have WHAT

username3 nah I don't believe in love anymore

username4 But they were together since even before Charles was in formula 1🥺

↳username2 Right? I thought they'll be together forever

username5 And there goes my hope for them to announce an engagement soon

↳username6 Sameeee except I thought someday they'll just have a secret wedding and not tell the media until weeks/months after

username5 Ngl that sounds like a them thing to do

username6 Well, not anymore

username7 My only question is why? 😭

↳username1 Literally because they seemed like a perfect couple. What could go wrong?

username8 Shit, that hurts more than my parents' divorce

username9 THEY BROKE UP AFTER 8 YEARS??

↳username10 what 😳

username9 They were together since 2016, I remember Charles saying this in some interview

username6 Yup that's right, he mentioned it many times, he was so in love with Y/n. I swear even recently he said after so many years he still falls in love more and more each day

username9 She was there for him when his dad passed, when Charles joined F1, when he signed up with Ferrari, when he won his first F1 race, I wonder what happened that made them break up so suddenly

username10 Oh so she was there for basically a huge part of his life

username5 I remember when Charles said "she's not a part of my life. She IS my life" about Y/n😭my standards for men have been high up in space ever since

username11 Wow just like Sainz broke up with his long term girlfriend last season. Let's just hope Leclerc won't pop up with a new girl weeks after that

↳username12 Charles and Y/n could be broken up for a long time now, we can only speculate when they broke up

username5 Imagine if Charles posted the Vegas vlog after their breakup 🥹 I'm not okay

username12 That was so unnecessary to say, I'm crying now

yourusername One for the money, two for the show, I never was ready so I watch you go

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username1 The caption guys...

↳username2 Does that mean what I think it means?

username3 What do you think it means?

username2 "I never was ready" he wanted to take things to the next level, but she didn't. "So I watch you go" means she had to let him go because they didn't want the same thing

username3 How could she not be ready after whole 8 years?

username2 Every person matures in their own time and that's okay, they'll both find someone else

username4 That's a Swiftie going through a breakup

username5 Noooo it's confirmed now 😭 as long as neither of them confirmed it I could stay delulu and think the rumours are just rumours

oldersister Thank you for babysitting Snow White 🐈‍⬛ (I wish there was a white cat emoji)

↳yourusername It was my pleasure! She's an angel (and a professional model)

oldersister Feel free to come over anytime you want, Snow White loves her aunt 🤍

youngersister HEY how dare you steal Y/n like that!! I wanted to take her out for milkshakes sometime

oldersister Chill, you can do that whenever you want I'm not stealing anyone

yourusername I'd love to go out for milkshakes!!

lilymhe No more Y/nLily in the paddock?

↳yourusername The paddock isn't the only place where we can hang out 😂

landonorris what are you up to on the 2nd pic? 🤨📸

↳username2 LANDO, DON'T

↳username4 LANDO IT'S TOO EARLY

↳username1 DONT RUIN OUR CHANCES TO HAVE Y/NCHARLES BACK

↳username1 Fuckboy Lando been doing too much fuckboying lately

username6 Didn't know she's a smoker

↳username7 Yeah, she was very secretive about it

username2 It's not like she was hiding it from y'all

username7 She was, probably because she would be canceled for being a wag who smokes cigarettes

username2 A grown woman can do what she wants

username6 It's better that they broke up, way healthier for Charles to not be around a smoker

username2 Wtf she was with him through bad and good times, supporting him no matter what, loving him, making beautiful memories together and you say it's good that they broke up because she smokes?

username4 May I add we never saw her smoking throughout the 8 years, she probably started after the breakup

username5 after the breakup or BECAUSE of the breakup?

charles_leclerc Leaving Bahrain with a good result despite some difficulties. Pretty good weekend if you ignore the braking problem, now onto Jeddah next 🏎

view all comments

username1 brAking problem or brEAking problem?

username2 How is that the start of the season and there's already something wrong with his car?

yourusername Congratulations on finishing P4🏁given the issues your car had, you did a spectacular job

↳charles_leclerc Thank you 😇 I tried my best, but felt like something is missing

yourusername I'm sorry :(

↳username3 WHAT IS Y/N DOING HERE? ARE THEY BACK TOGETHER?

username4 I wish I could believe they are, but I guess some people break up on good terms

username3 How could anyone end a 8yrs old relationship and be friends? 😭

↳username5 Jail for miss Y/n for leading fans on

username6 He looked so sad the whole time, during interviews and all that 😔

↳username7 Yeah he's either done with the car already or he misses Y/n that much

username8 DID Y'ALL SEE THAT ONE INTERVIEW WHERE HE GOT ASKED ABOUT Y/N NOT BEING IN BAHRAIN??

↳username6 WHAT INTERVIEW??

username8 A lady asked him why Y/n isn't here because she never missed the first race of the season before so it's surprising. He officially said that over the winter break they've decided to part ways due to focusing on different aspects of life🥲

username9 How do you figure something like this out after 8 fucking years? They wasted each other's time

username7 Calm down lol they grew and matured with each other, experienced how their love evolved throughout the years, no time you put into this is a wasted time

username10 I need to know what are the aspects of life they focus on and if they really are that different

↳username11 From what I figured from Y/n's post and Charles' interview - he wanted to get married, maybe even start a family and she wasn't ready

username10 Ahhh I remember how a few years ago Charles said he wants to have three kids. Such a shame Y/n doesn't want the same thing, but it's understandable they figured it now. They were kids themselves when they started dating lol

username11 Not really, they were both over 18 years old

username10 I know, but still that's a pretty young age and you might not know yet what do you really want in life

username12 Plus your brain develops until you're 25, they both turn 27 this year so it explains a lot

username13 I'm telling you, there would be no problems if Y/n was there, @/yourusername get your lazy ass on a plane to Jeddah

oldersister Amazing performance this weekend👏

youngersister Goodluck for Jeddah 🍀

username14 The way Y/n AND her sisters still interact with Charles on social media...

↳username15 Yeah like are they actually broken up??

3 weeks later

yourusername You'd be surprised if I told you why kangaroos are called kangaroos

view all comments

username1 What is miss doing in Australia during the race week?

oldersister I told you this story is fake 🙄

↳yourusername But it's funny so I'm gonna believe it

oldersister Kangaroo DOESN'T mean "I don't know" jesus christ

username2 I thought it does 😭

username3 Too much Tiktok I guess lmao

youngersister Glad I could have milkshakes with you in Australia 😌

↳yourusername Back at you although that was a strange excuse to go to Australia in the first place

youngersister It's just not the same in Europe

arthur_leclerc Y/n in her natural habitat🦘

↳yourusername I swear I was a kangaroo in a past life

↳username4 What is going on? Y/n and Charles broke up but they keep interacting with each other and each other's families

username5 I NEED to know which city it is

username6 Is that true all announcements on public transport are made with Oscar Piastri's voice??

↳yourusername Yup, I wonder how much convincing it took to get Oscar to do the voiceover

landonorris not a lot to be honest

username5 AHA so she is in Melbourne! Also, what are you doing here Lando?

landonorris do you wanna hear another aussie fun fact?

↳yourusername I'm scared but yes (as long as it's not about thongs)

landonorris do you know what an australian kiss is?

yourusername @/oscarpiastri please put Lando back in his cage

username7 HELP I'M GASPING FOR AIR, LANDO ALWAYS TAKES THE CHANCE TO SHOOT HIS SHOT

username8 Not gonna lie it pisses me off how Lando tries to "flirt" with Y/n in her comments

↳username2 Me too, it's not ethical

username9 I'm afraid Lando doesn't care lol and I don't think Y/n would ever consider going out with another driver considering Charles and her broke up on good terms

username10 I'm just wondering if norris ever tried funny business back when Y/n would come to races

↳username11 prolly not but hey now he's free to do it

username5 Just because he's free to do it doesn't mean he should do it

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username2 OH 😃

username3 So that's what she's doing in Australia

username4 Wait why is Jacob Elordi in Australia?

↳username2 Well, Jacob is Australian, why wouldn't he be there?

username4 HE'S AUSTRALIAN?!

username5 One thing Charles can't beat is the height 😩

↳username6 Is it worth it tho? Jacob treated his exes pretty badly, he's a cheater

username5 And? People change

username6 Bro, he cheated on Zendaya

username5 Chill out, maybe Y/n isn't even on a date with him, maybe they're just hanging out

username7 If I were Y/n I would enter my hoe phase now and Jacob is a good choice to start with

username8 THIS CAN'T BE TRUE

username9 Charles where are you? 😭 Y/n is a sweetheart, she shouldn't be with Jacob

username10 Sometimes I regret opening this app

username11 Didn't Jacob attend a few races? Is that were he met Y/n?

↳username12 Keep saying things like this and watch gossip unfold about how Y/n was waiting to leave Charles for Jacob

username13 Miss girl did a downgrade

↳username14 Is it a downgrade though if he's that tall?

username13 He can be as tall as he wants, but Charles was Y/n's soulmate and I'll always stand by that

username9 Plus the height doesn't make up for the personality

username14 What personality? 💀 Girl you don't even know him

username9 Someone who cheats on their partner clearly isn't a very pleasant person to date

username5 CALM DOWN GUYS we can't be sure they were on a date, it could be just two friends catching up

username9 what friends? I've never even seen them talk before and there were opportunities

yourusername Don't panic guys, I've been spending most of the time with @/youngersister and her aussie friends

view all comments

youngersister Yeah, I clearly didn't set you up for a date with a certain actor...

↳username1 SHE SET Y/N UP WITH HIM?!

username2 Evil mastermind

username3 How did that even happen lmao

↳yourusername Thankfully it didn't go as good as you'd wish it would 😌

youngersister No worries, I have other options up my sleeve

yourusername Keep them up there 🤺

↳username4 I'm confused is [younger sisters name] team Charles or not?

username5 She's just a menace it seems

username6 What's up with Y/n? She didn't wanna be with Charles, but she doesn't wanna move on. That's not normal

youngersister Don't make me set you up with Lando

↳yourusername You'd never, I know you think he's annoying

youngersister Yeah, but he gives me that vibe of a guy who can make you forget about your ex

yourusername That's called a fuckboy

youngersister You deserve a bit of fun don't you 🥳 I'm not saying you have to go straight back to being in a relationship

yourusername NO THANK YOU

username5 Lmao I love how they're having this convo here instead of on dms

username6 OR FACE TO FACE??

username7 Why does Y/n's lil sis support the idea of Y/n having a hoe phase? 😭

landonorris I was hoping you'd come see the race;)

↳yourusername Better luck next time I guess :)

a few months later

view all comments

username1 YEAH I WAS LIKE WHAT THE HELL???

username3 I can't defend Charles anymore

username4 Apparently her name is Angeliqué and she's a daughter of some French entrepreneur (a/n: I made her up)

username5 I didn't want Charles to move on, I wanted him to be back with Y/n 😭

↳username6 Worse thing is, Charles moved on but Y/n didn't. She went on this weird staged date with Jacob Elordi a few months ago and that's it

username7 NOOO 😭😭

username8 Charles better say sike now 🔫

username9 Please tell me it's a joke

username10 It truly feels like some part of me being torn apart knowing that Y/n and Charles broke up for good and he moved on

username11 Do we really know nothing about what's going on with Y/n? She must feel terrible now, I'm sure she saw that Angeliqué girl on TV

↳username9 What makes you think she would still watch races?

username11 It seemed like her and Charles are on friendly terms, so why wouldn't she still watch his races?

↳username12 She hasn't posted anything since Australia, went hella private, she ISN'T okay, I think she even stopped hanging out with Lily M

username13 I did some more research and that Angeliqué girl is 20 years old

↳username12 So we're supposed to believe that Y/n who is Charles' age wasn't ready to start a family, but a 20 year old Charles met weeks ago is? Charles, explain yourself

username9 Honestly the new girl seems just like a distraction from Y/n or a PR relationship

username12 You might be right, maybe Charles can't forget about Y/n so he went with "wanna get over, get under someone new"

username14 Nahhhh cuz she was all over Charles whenever she could and he looked so done 💀 that's definitely a stunt

↳username1 Literally, she was always hugging him, touching, holding hands, she barely let him interact with fans, Y/n was so much better AND she always respected Charles' fans

username15 imagine not being able to move on for MONTHS so your pr team finds you a fake gf

yourusername Excuse the inactivity, I've been watching Gilmore Girls

view all comments

username1 Very understandable in this case

username2 Our Rory Gilmore finally watching the og Rory Gilmore 🙏

oldersister I'm afraid Snow White might like you more than she likes me 😂

↳yourusername I'm the cool aunt 🤭

youngersister Excuse me???

yourusername I said what I said

youngersister And I don't agree with what you said

yourusername Would you watch Gilmore Girls with Snow White? Nope. I do. So I win the cool aunt competition

username3 Guys... When did Charles unfollow Y/n?

↳username2 He unfollowed?

username3 Yeah... He didn't comment nor even like, so I went to check and he doesn't follow Y/n anymore but she still follows him

username2 Ouch that hurts

username4 I don't care that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, what counts is that she is happy 😊 look at the last pic, she's so adorable with Snow White

↳username5 True, she looks happy and healthy while Charles is out there having to put up with a fake girlfriend

username6 What's funny is that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, but both his brothers and majority of F1 drivers do

↳username7 including the ones who followed her after the breakup 😏

username8 Don't try to make up new rumours, Y/n is single and happy

username9 Not to be mean but... It says something about Charles that he had to unfollow

↳username6 He either thought it'll help him forget or the new girlfriend made him unfollow

username9 Either way it tells us he's still thinking about Y/n

landonorris been a while since I last saw you

↳yourusername Let's see how long we can keep the streak up

username6 SLAAAAAY QUEEN

username10 I'll never be over the Y/nCharles breakup, I'm still going through it months after

↳username11 That's okay because so is Charles

username12 Tbh in Y/n's place I would just take the chance and go for Lando, just to prove that Charles' PR relationship is in vain

↳username2 That's not something Y/n would do, but if she ever did that I would support her

Username13 dating men is so much stress, why bother while you can sit at home with a cat watching Gilmore Girls instead?

#Charles Leclerc x reader #Charles leclerc imagine #Charles leclerc smau #F1 smau #F1 x reader #F1 imagine #Charles leclerc fanfic #formula 1 social media au #Formula 1 smau #formula 1 x reader #Charles leclerc social media au

1K notes · View notes

lizzyiii · 17 days ago

Note

The Dragon’s Treasure has my WHOLE heart 🥹

thank you, babe. i've really enjoyed writing her and aemond

The Dragon's Treasure (3)

pairing | young aemond targaryen x niece!reader

word count | 11k words

summary | “...and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.”

tags | as we all know ANGST, ANGST, ANGSTTTT, and eventually rainbow after the storm, SA! (aemonds brothel scene), things do get better y'all, targaryen incest, reader is described to have silver hair and lilac eyes, reader being a sensitive queen, and FLUFF and young love, aemond being a SIMP, TOOTHROTTING FLUFF

a/n | I cried so much, while writing this. I loved writing young aemond, I loved writing young helaena but especially loved writing young reader. I promise you guys this, when I have the time I'll write a one shot of them when they're older and more post-episode 7. When they're older (16&18). Also I really went overboard ngl

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 1 — 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 2 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You weren’t eating again.

Aemond had overheard his mother’s worried whispers as she discussed your condition with the maesters. He was still angry with you—hurt by the thought that you would try to leave them all behind, leave him behind, without a second thought. But no matter how deep his anger ran, his concern for you ran deeper.

After a long and contemplative ride on Vhagar, the weight of the sky above him and the sea below doing little to settle his thoughts, Aemond sought out his mother.

“Aemond,” Alicent began, her voice weary as she looked down at him, her exhaustion evident in the fine lines around her eyes. Between preparing for Aegon and Helaena's wedding and your worsening state, the strain was taking its toll. “I don’t think she’s in the mood for any visitors.”

She still didn’t know the full truth of what had happened—the attempt to run away with Helaena, the plan you had kept hidden from them all. All Alicent knew was that you had retreated into yourself once more, refusing to speak to anyone, even to Helaena, the one who had once pulled you from your darkness.

“It’s her nameday tomorrow,” Aemond murmured, his voice quiet but steady.

Alicent’s face tightened, pain flashing in her eyes as she thought of how you had been before all this—brighter, more spirited. Aemond continued, his tone soft but resolute. “She likes strawberry cakes. Let me bring her one, Mother. Please.”

Alicent’s gaze softened as she looked at her son. Her sharp, determined boy, scarred both in body and soul, yet still showing more kindness than anyone would expect after all he had endured. He had lost an eye, but his heart—his heart still carried a tenderness that surprised her.

She sighed, her shoulders drooping with the weight of her worries. “Very well,” she said softly. “You have my leave to visit her tomorrow.”

Aemond didn’t smile, didn’t show any hint of relief, though inside, the resolve in his chest tightened. He simply nodded in acknowledgment. His mind had already begun to turn over what he would say to you when he saw you—how he might reach you through the walls you had built around yourself.

Tomorrow was your nameday, and whether you liked it or not, Aemond would be there for you.

──────────────────────────────

Aemond’s heart raced as he approached your chambers, his hands gripping the tray carrying strawberry cakes. He had spent much of the morning thinking of what else he could bring—perhaps a necklace, something to match the sapphire that lay hidden beneath his eyepatch. You loved jewelry, and he knew how your eyes lit up at the sight of anything that sparkled. But in the end, he settled on simplicity—just the cakes you loved, hoping they would be enough.

As he neared your door, he was greeted by Ser Rowan, your loyal guard, who stood as firm as ever, his expression stern.

“My prince,” Ser Rowan acknowledged with a nod, his voice gruff. “The princess is in no condition to receive visitors today.”

Aemond stiffened, his chest rising as he squared his shoulders. He would not be turned away so easily. “It is her nameday,” he said firmly, his voice laced with authority. He took a step closer, meeting Ser Rowan’s unyielding gaze with his own, violet eye sharp. “The queen has granted me permission to visit her.”

Ser Rowan remained still, but Aemond didn’t back down. He tilted his head slightly, his tone low and challenging. “Will you disobey the Queen’s word?”

There was a moment of silence as the guard’s eyes flicked down to the tray Aemond carried. His stern expression softened just slightly when he saw the strawberry cakes. Ser Rowan let out a heavy sigh, his duty to you outweighing his hesitation. He too wished for your recovery, and perhaps, he thought, a visit from Aemond might bring some light back into your eyes.

“Very well, my prince,” he said at last, stepping aside. He opened the door with a creak, allowing Aemond to enter.

Aemond took a deep breath, holding the tray steady as he stepped into your chambers. The door closed softly behind him, but the room was dim, heavy with silence. His heart clenched at the sight of you curled up on the bed, facing the wall, your small form barely stirring.

"Niece," Aemond’s voice echoed softly through the room, breaking the heavy silence of your chambers.

There was a pause, and then your voice, quiet and tired, reached him. "Go away."

He pursed his lips, setting the tray down gently on the bedside table. The room was dim, shrouded in a pink hue from your curtains, and he made his way over to the window, pulling the drapes wide open. Sunlight poured in, casting the room in a golden glow.

From behind him, you hissed, "Close them." He heard the rustle of your blankets as you pulled them over your head, shielding yourself from the brightness.

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he turned back to face you. "Happy Nameday," he said, his tone lighter than before. "I brought you something."

"I don’t want it," you muttered from beneath the covers, your voice muffled and distant.

He sat beside you, his movements careful, placing the tray of strawberry cakes within arm’s reach. "I’m sure you will," he replied softly, hoping to coax you out from your cocoon of blankets.

For a few moments, there was nothing—just the faint sounds of the breeze outside and the distant chatter from the courtyard. Aemond sighed, the weight of the silence between you heavier than he could bear. He reached out, his hand hovering just above your arm, but then hesitated. His fingers twitched before he pulled his hand back, unsure of how to communicate with you.

"You know," he began quietly, his voice careful, "I wouldn’t force that on you. To bear children you don’t want. One would be enough."

There was a sharp scoff from beneath the blankets. "How generous of you," you replied, the bitterness in your tone unmistakable.

Aemond’s jaw tightened, but he kept his gaze steady on the blankets that covered you. His mind drifted to the records he had been reading, the histories you both loved to discuss. He knew how much you valued stories of the past, of old kings and queens, of the lives they led. Swallowing, he decided to share what had been on his mind, hoping it might reach you.

"I’ve been reading more since our last talk," he murmured. "About King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne. Even after many children, he made her bear more when she didn’t wish to." His voice was soft but steady, the weight of his words hanging in the air between you. He had been thinking of you, trying to understand your fears.

The sunlight streamed across your bed, casting shadows as Aemond spoke. He knew that love was rare among their kind, especially in Targaryen unions, but he hoped. Hoped that maybe, in time, you would not just be duty and title to him.

"I would never do that to you," he added, his tone sincere, almost vulnerable. "I want our marriage to be different."

The room was still. The only sound was the faint rustling of the breeze outside, and the quiet breathing of Dreamfyre from somewhere far beyond your window. Aemond’s words lingered, waiting for you to respond, to show him something—anything—that might bridge the gap between you.

Slowly, you lowered the blankets just enough for your eyes to peek out, meeting Aemond's gaze. "He was a bad man," you mumbled, referring to King Jaehaerys.

Aemond, ever the scholar, couldn’t resist. "He was a good king," he pointed out, his tone firm but calm.

You rolled your eyes, a small defiance shining through your sadness. "Still a bad man." For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, and then you added thoughtfully, "Aenys Targaryen was a good man."

Aemond let out a scoff. "He was weak."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a flicker of something behind your lilac gaze, something like amusement. "A weak king, yes. Only because he tried to make everyone happy."

Your eyes shifted towards the tray on the bedside table, where the strawberry cakes sat. After a moment of hesitation, your voice, still tinged with sadness, broke the silence. "Is today really my nameday?"

Aemond nodded, his own expression softening. "Yes."

"Oh." Your response was quiet, almost absent-minded, as if you were still processing.

Aemond reached for the tray and held it out to you, offering a tentative smile. "Would you like one?"

You eyed the cakes, and though your sadness still lingered, something softened in your expression. "Those do look nice," you murmured. Finally, you pulled the blanket away from your face and sat up slowly, your movements careful and deliberate. Though your face remained neutral, devoid of the joy that used to light it up, you gave a small nod. "Alright."

Aemond couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face as he handed you a cake. It wasn’t much, but seeing you like this—out of bed, talking to him—felt like a small victory.

As you took a bite, your eyes flickered to his once more, and Aemond stayed beside you, content with the simple moment of shared silence, hopeful that things might get better.

Aemond felt as though he were trapped in a cage of unbearable heat, the air around him thick, suffocating. The wine—a dark, bitter liquid that Aegon had forced upon him—now churned wildly in his stomach, its taste sour and unpleasant. He longed to rid himself of it, to escape the strange and unfamiliar sensations overtaking him.

It was after the grand feast in honor of his thirteenth nameday that Aegon, with a sly grin and a glint in his eye, had promised him a "surprise." Aemond, still naive to the darker aspects of his brother’s humor, had followed without protest, his curiosity outweighing his caution. They had ventured deep into King’s Landing, to a shadowed place Aemond had never seen before—a pleasure house filled with laughter and the soft rustling of silks.

Before Aemond could voice his hesitation, Aegon had disappeared into the throng of bodies, swallowed by the merry voices and whispers of the women within. And Aemond was left alone, standing awkwardly, unsure of what was to happen next.

He was led into a small chamber, dimly lit by flickering candles, their soft glow casting strange and unsettling shadows on the walls. The tapestries that adorned the room depicted scenes he barely understood—men and women entwined in ways that seemed more confusing than enticing. He felt a knot tightening in his chest, and a cold wave of dread settled over him.

Then she entered—a woman far older than his mother, her presence overwhelming in the confined space. She smiled at him, her voice soft and syrupy, laced with sweet lies that made his skin crawl. She cooed over him, her hands reaching for him before he had the chance to say anything, her touch gentle yet intrusive as she began to undress him.

Aemond’s heart pounded in his chest, and every fiber of his being screamed for her to stop, to leave him be. But his voice—his strength—had abandoned him. He remained frozen, his limbs stiff and unresponsive as she whispered things into his ear, words he wished he hadn’t heard, promises he didn’t understand.

When it was over, Aemond was left numb. He sat there, silent, as if his body no longer belonged to him, as though he had become something entirely separate from himself. Trembling, he fumbled with his clothes, his fingers shaking as he struggled to dress. His mind was a whirl of confusion, shame, and anger, but above all, he felt the desperate need to flee.

He didn’t care where Aegon had gone, didn’t want to face him or anyone else. The only thought that filled his mind was reaching you, his niece, his betrothed, his future wife, the one person who might make him feel whole again.

His feet carried him through the secret passageways of Maegor’s Holdfast, each step heavy with fear and sorrow. His breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, his chest aching as he pushed himself to move faster. His tears—hot and unbidden—ran down his cheeks, blurring his vision, but he did not stop.

He passed his own chambers, the rooms of his mother, and everyone else, not wanting to explain the mess of emotions swirling inside him. He only wanted you.

It felt as though the gods had granted Aemond a moment of mercy when he reached your chambers, finding Ser Rowan absent from his post. Without hesitation, he pushed open the door and stepped inside, his heart still racing, tears brimming in his eye as he struggled to hold them back.

You were fast asleep, your back turned toward him. Aemond let out a quiet breath of relief. He hadn’t come to disturb you, only to be near you—just your presence, your warmth, was enough to calm the storm inside him.

Quietly, he made his way to your bed and carefully, as if afraid to wake you, slid in beside you. He kept a respectful distance, not wanting to intrude, but just close enough to feel your presence. The motion stirred you from your sleep, and you sat up, blinking in confusion.

Your eyes widened when they fell on Aemond, and for a brief, horrible moment, he realised it was because of his face. He had forgotten—he had left his eye patch behind at the brothel. The clear ragged sapphire was bare for you to see.

Panic surged through him. You would be disgusted, he thought, repelled by the sight of his disfigurement. He moved to leave, heart pounding, but your voice reached him before he could retreat.

“Aemond, breathe,” you whispered, your strained voice soft and steady.

He froze, his chest tight with the effort to suppress his panic. He needed to leave—he couldn’t bear for you to see him like this. Not you, his dearest niece, who always knew him as strong, as whole. He couldn’t let you witness the broken, ruined side of him.

But then, you reached out, grabbing his trembling hands in your own small ones, your touch warm and gentle. "Please, stay," you whispered, your voice filled with concern. Slowly, you began rubbing his cold hands, trying to bring warmth back to him, both in body and spirit.

His breathing was still uneven, but your soft words and the warmth of your touch soothed him. He looked up, meeting your eyes for the first time. There was no disgust there, no fear—only worry and care. Just like before. Slowly, the tension began to leave his body, and for the first time since he had fled that terrible place, Aemond felt a glimmer of relief.

He swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hands a little tighter. "I don’t care about your face, Aemond," you murmured softly, your tired lilac eyes meeting his. "I care about you."

As you gently laid back onto your pillow, you looked at Aemond with concern, urging him to lie beside you. He hesitated for a moment, but slowly, he did as you asked, his awkward frame seeming out of place in your small bed. You turned to face him, your wide lilac eyes full of care, while Aemond’s own single violet eye struggled to meet yours.

With quiet care, you reached out, placing your small hand on his scarred cheek. He flinched at first, his breath catching in his throat, but you didn’t pull away. Your fingers traced the jagged line of the scar that ran down his face, the skin rough beneath your touch. It was as if you weren’t looking at the scar at all, just him—Aemond, your beloved uncle, the boy who protected you, who read to you, who you always knew to be brave.

He shivered under your touch, his emotions twisting inside him. But you said nothing more, just a quiet, simple comfort.

“Sleep, Aemond,” you whispered softly, your voice gentle and soothing. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

The words wrapped around him like a balm, a promise in the soft glow of the dim candlelight. For so long, Aemond had carried his burdens alone, but in this moment, with your hand on his face and your soft breath mingling with the night air, he felt something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel since Driftmark—peace.

His eye fluttered shut, and with the rhythm of your breathing beside him, he let himself drift away, finally surrendering to sleep.

──────────────────────────────

Aemond entered your chambers quietly, the weight of the box in his hands almost insignificant compared to the heaviness that lingered in the air. He had been allowed to visit freely now, thanks to Ser Rowan's softening stance, but each visit felt like walking on a thread, delicate and uncertain.

He paused when he saw you on the chaise, struggling with your embroidery. The soft light from the window highlighted the paleness of your features—still recovering, still distant, but better than before. You were eating now, and though your mood hadn't brightened, that small improvement brought Aemond some comfort. He cherished these moments, even if they were shrouded in silence.

"I've brought something for you," he said, his voice steady yet quiet as he approached.

You glanced up from your work but said nothing. The tangled mess of threads on the pillow caught his eye, and he bent slightly to inspect it, attempting to mask the awkwardness he always felt in the wake of that night. He hadn’t been ready to speak of it, and thankfully, neither had you.

"That’s a nice lion," Aemond offered, pointing to the uneven form stitched into the fabric.

Your lips parted slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement mixing with frustration as you murmured, "It was supposed to be the Queen."

Aemond’s lips twitched in response, nodding solemnly as if in deep thought. "Now that you say it," he replied, his voice light, "I do recognize her hair."

With a small sigh, you tossed the pillow aside like it was something offensive, watching as it tumbled to the floor, forgotten. Your eyes flickered towards the box in Aemond’s hands, suspicion mingling with curiosity.

"What have you brought me?" you asked, your voice quiet, but holding a hint of anticipation.

Aemond didn’t reply at first, simply stepping forward and offering the box to you, his expression unreadable. You hesitated for a moment, then carefully took it from him.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you lifted the lid, pulling back the fine paper that covered the gift inside. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you uncovered a stunning gown—lilac silk adorned with delicate embroidery, tiny jewels catching the light like stars. Your hands traced the fabric, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips, the craftsmanship clear in every stitch.

Aemond watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a shift in your expression—a glimmer of something that almost resembled joy.

"Do you like it?" he asked, his voice low, holding his breath as he awaited your response.

You glanced up at him, and for the first time in many moons, you smiled. It was small, barely there, but it warmed Aemond's heart like the sun after a long winter.

"Yes, I do," you replied softly, still admiring the gown. "What's it for?"

"Helaena's wedding."

At once, the warmth in the room seemed to drain away. The smile you had given Aemond, fleeting as it was, vanished, leaving a hollow silence in its wake. His heart sank, watching as you carefully folded the gown, tucking it back into the box with deliberate gentleness. The delicate fabric crinkled under your hands as though it were something too precious to be touched, something that no longer belonged to you.

"I'm afraid you've wasted your efforts," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your gaze fixed on the gown. "I'm not going."

Aemond's brow furrowed, frustration bubbling beneath his calm exterior. He stepped closer, his voice steady yet urgent. "You have to go."

But you refused to meet his eye. You knew how intense his gaze could be, how easily it could pierce through your defenses. Staring at the box instead, you shook your head, your words coming out firm, resolute. "I won't."

Aemond's lips pressed into a thin line, the familiar weight of your stubbornness settling between you both. "Helaena needs you," he urged, his tone softening, as if pleading might sway you.

You let out a bitter sigh, your fingers tracing the edge of the box, a dull ache settling in your chest. "Well, perhaps I can hurt her the same way she hurt me," you muttered, your words tinged with petulance, though the pain beneath them was clear.

Aemond stood in silence for a long moment, weighing your words, the tension in the air thick between you. His voice, quieter this time, broke the silence like a whisper carried on the wind. "Will you really not go?"

"No," you replied, though your voice softened now, the sharp edge of defiance fading. You hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing your face. You raised your chin, trying to hold onto the last bit of resolve. "Now, is that all you've come to visit me for?"

Aemond's heart ached at the sight of you—so distant, so caught in your own sorrow. He stood there, unsure of how to reach you, the distance between you feeling far more than just the space in the room.

The day of Helaena’s wedding arrived, and just as you had promised, you didn’t go. Aemond had come to your chambers in the morning, his expression pleading as he urged you one last time to change your mind. His words were careful, filled with the weight of his disappointment, but still, you remained firm.

You had refused.

As the sun set, casting a warm golden hue across the castle walls, you lay alone in your chambers, curled beneath the thick blankets on your bed. The echoes of the celebrations reached your ears in faint murmurs, muffled by the heavy stone of the keep. The joyous sounds of laughter and music only seemed to deepen the ache in your heart.

It was when night fell fully that the tears came, slow at first, then faster, spilling onto your pillow as regret took hold of you. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, but it did little to stop the sadness that had finally caught up to you. You could see it so clearly in your mind—Helaena standing alone in the grand Sept, a pale and fragile figure, her face drawn with sorrow. You imagined her forced to marry Aegon, the brother you both knew was unfit for her, and the weight of your absence pressed hard on your chest.

How could you not have been there for her?

The thought made you feel smaller, childish even. You had let your anger and hurt guide you, and in doing so, you had abandoned Helaena on one of the worst days of her life. She was likely miserable, her heart heavy with sadness, and you, spiteful and stubborn, had stayed away. You bit your lip, choking back a sob.

Your gaze drifted to the gown Aemond had gifted you, still lying folded neatly in the box by your bedside, untouched, its lilac fabric gleaming faintly in the moonlight. You reached for it now, pulling the soft material through your fingers as though it could offer you some comfort.

But it didn’t.

It only reminded you of the mistake you had made.

You missed your mother.

For all the hurt she caused, all the ways she had abandoned you, there was still a deep ache for her, like a wound that wouldn’t heal. You wanted to hate her, truly despise her for leaving you behind. But no matter how much you tried, you couldn’t. The love for her still clung to you like a shadow you couldn’t lose.

As the days passed in the quiet isolation of your chambers, you began to understand things you hadn’t before. With each lonely hour, the weight of your thoughts pressed harder on your heart. Your mother had been selfish, more than you had ever allowed yourself to admit. She had promised you the world, and yet, in the end, she had given you nothing.

You were her firstborn, the eldest of her children, and yet the title that should have been yours had been passed to Jace. He was her heir to the Iron Throne, the future king, while you were left to the shadows. Even Driftmark, the seat of your grandsire, should have been yours by birthright, but it had been given to Luke instead.

The bitterness inside you grew with every thought. You hated them now—your brothers. You knew it was childish, petulant even, but the feelings were there, and they wouldn’t leave. They had taken everything from you. Titles that were rightfully yours, the pride of riding dragons, and worst of all, they still had your mother. They were together as one big happy family on Dragonstone, while you had been left here in King's Landing, a forgotten daughter in the midst of their enemies.

“It’s fine,” you whispered to yourself in the dark, trying to believe it. You had never liked Dragonstone anyway, with its cold winds and sharp rocks. But even as you said it, your heart tightened with the lie. You missed the place, the warmth of the hearth, the sight of the sea from your window, and the feeling of belonging—something you hadn’t felt in so long.

And in the quiet moments, when the anger settled and the room was still, you knew the truth. It wasn’t your brothers’ fault. They hadn’t asked for this, to be born as they were, with all the whispers and shadows cast over their lineage. No, it was your mother’s choices that had led to this. Her indiscretions. But even as that truth formed in your mind, you found that you couldn’t hate her.

It was easier to be angry with them—with Jace and Luke—because hating her, the one you loved most, was something you just couldn’t bear.

──────────────────────────────

"I hated you, you know."

Aemond's head jerked up, eyes widening at the unexpected words. He had been sitting quietly in your chambers, absorbed in a thick tome about the horrors of Essos. You stood across the room, brush in hand, painting the pink walls of your chamber as if it were any other day. But there was a tension in the air, a weight to your voice that made his heart quicken.

You didn’t look at him, your gaze fixed on the canvas as you murmured, "When you claimed Vhagar, I hated you."

The words hung in the air, sharp and heavy. Aemond’s mouth parted slightly, but no words came out. His heart pounded in his chest as he watched you. The stillness of the room was broken only by the soft strokes of your brush against the canvas.

"I feel as if I hate everyone," you continued, voice tight and strained. "I hate Luke and Jace for stealing my titles." Your brush moved faster, more aggressively. "I hate Daemon for stealing my mother. I even hate Baela and Rhaena, if only because they get to have her now, as if she’s theirs instead of mine."

A scoff escaped your lips, but the sound was bitter. Aemond noticed the way your hand trembled slightly, how your breath caught as tears glistened in your lilac eyes.

"I hated Helaena for not running away with me," you whispered, the words coming out choked. "And I hate myself for not having a dragon, for not being someone important, someone worthy of a title."

Tears began streaming down your face, and yet you kept painting, as if the act itself could somehow keep the flood of emotions at bay. Finally, your gaze lifted from the canvas and met Aemond’s. His heart clenched at the sight of your tear-streaked face.

"And I hated you," you said, voice breaking, "for claiming Vhagar and leaving me alone in this world."

The sob that followed was wrenching, and Aemond couldn’t stay still any longer. He moved toward you, closing the distance between you both with careful, deliberate steps. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest, your head resting on his shoulder as you wept.

"I don’t want to feel this way," you cried into his tunic, voice muffled and raw. "So pathetic, so angry at everyone. But I can’t help it. And yet, no matter how hard I try, I can never hate her."

Aemond’s chest tightened at your words, his own emotions swirling in a storm he didn’t know how to express. He rested his chin gently on your head, holding you as tightly as he dared, feeling the weight of your pain as if it were his own.

"I know," he whispered softly, his voice rough with emotion. "I know."

And so he held you, offering no more words, just the quiet comfort of his presence as your tears slowly soaked into his shoulder. He wished he could consume your pain and take it away, wished he could make things right. But all he could do was stand there, arms around you, as the world outside seemed so far away.

──────────────────────────────

“How is Helaena?”

It was the first time in what felt like forever that you had left your chambers. Aemond had been persistent, urging you to take some air, to leave the four walls that had become your prison. Reluctantly, you agreed, and now the two of you sat beneath the heart tree in the Godswood, surrounded by the stillness of nature. Aemond had brought a stack of books, ones he knew you both enjoyed, hoping they might distract you.

“The same as ever,” Aemond answered absently, his attention flickering between the pages of the book in his lap and the rustling leaves above.

He paused, glancing up at you. "She’s set to give birth in three moons' time," he added, his voice soft, as if the thought still surprised him.

You looked down, your heart aching at how quickly time had passed. It had been almost two years since you had returned to King’s Landing, and though you tried to avoid thinking about it, you knew things would never be the same. “Is her pregnancy going well?” you asked quietly, your voice small against the whisper of the wind.

Aemond pursed his lips, his brow furrowing in thought. “She has strange cravings," he said, his voice low. "And her belly is… large, perhaps too large for just six moons.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you. “I’m sure a visit from you would lift her spirits,” he suggested, his tone careful, as though he didn’t want to push too hard.

You shook your head almost immediately, your silver curls spilling over your shoulders. “I’m not sure it would,” you murmured, your voice full of doubt.

Aemond studied you for a long moment, his sharp violet eye watching the way your expression shifted, the way your gaze seemed to turn inward. "She speaks of you sometimes," he said quietly, trying to find the right words to reach you. "She misses you."

You sighed, pulling your knees to your chest as you looked away from him, your fingers tracing idle patterns in the grass. You missed her too.

Aemond, noticing the sadness clouding your face, cleared his throat, quickly steering the conversation elsewhere. “Perhaps when you feel better,” he began, his voice lighter, “you could join me on a ride with Vhagar.”

Your head snapped up in surprise. “Me? Ride Vhagar?” You shook your head. “I’m not sure Vhagar would like me. A loud, annoying girl.”

Aemond raised a brow, his face dead serious. “If that were true, Vhagar would’ve eaten Baela and Rhaena years ago.”

For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you laughed. A real laugh, bubbling up from deep within, spilling out in a way that felt foreign yet so relieving. Two years of being shut away in your chambers, and now here you were, laughing at Aemond’s dry humor. The sound filled the Godswood, bright and full of life.

Aemond, momentarily stunned, blinked at you in astonishment. He hadn’t expected it, not after everything, but when his mind caught up, a broad smile tugged at his lips. The kind of smile that was rare for him, genuine and unguarded.

“Vhagar will love you,” he said, his voice quiet but sure. He hesitated for just a moment, his thoughts turning to words he longed to say but didn’t. Just as I do, he thought. But instead, he insisted with a warmth in his tone, “I’m sure of that.”

You gave a small shrug, murmuring, "Maybe," without truly committing to the idea.

Aemond studied your face for a moment, his heart lighter at the sound of your earlier laughter, and before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. "I claimed Vhagar for the both of us."

Your expression shifted in an instant, the color draining from your face as you stared at him. "What?" you mumbled, barely above a whisper.

Aemond averted his gaze, trying to appear casual, though his heart raced. "I remembered what you said—about sharing a dragon. And when your dragon egg didn’t hatch, I decided... Vhagar should be for both of us." He looked up, meeting your startled lilac eyes with his steady violet one. "For you and me to share."

Tears welled in your eyes without warning, and Aemond’s calm composure crumbled. He immediately scrambled to your side, kneeling in the grass and reaching out to comfort you. "No, no, I didn’t mean to make you cry," he said, his hands hovering nervously, unsure of what to do.

You waved his hands away, though a small smile began to form through your tears. "I feel a bit foolish now," you admitted, as tears continued to fall down your cheeks.

Aemond took your hands gently in his, bringing them to his lips in a tender kiss. "And so?" He whispered, his gaze filled with sincerity.

As the tears dried on your cheeks, you let out a shaky breath, though your nose remained a bit red. "But... I think Vhagar is much more suited for you," you finally said, your voice still soft but calmer.

Aemond nodded, willing to agree if it brought you comfort. "Will you still consider joining me?" he asked, his tone hopeful.

You looked at him, your smile returning, this time more playful. "I shall," you said with a teasing glint in your eyes, your hands still resting in his.

──────────────────────────────

"Princess, are you almost done?"

Ser Rowan’s voice was tinged with exasperation as he stood with arms raised, holding the pose you had instructed. You had begged him to model for your painting when he arrived to greet you at dawn, and now the sun was climbing high in the sky, casting warm rays through the window. Despite the time, he remained your patient subject.

"Almost, Ser Rowan," you replied cheerfully, your brush gliding across the canvas as you focused on capturing the details of his expression.

The knight let out a weary sigh, feeling his muscles beginning to stiffen. Yet he would endure anything to keep the smile on your face; he was your willing captive, devoted to your whims.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Ser Rowan instinctively straightened, positioning himself protectively in front of you. He relaxed his stance when he saw Prince Aemond enter, though a worried look darkened the prince's features.

"Aemond, what’s wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern as you set down your brush.

The prince was out of breath, urgency threading through his voice. "Helaena went into labor last night. It’s been long and difficult. She’s calling for you."

Your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth in shock, struggling to find your voice amidst the sudden rush of fear and worry.

Before you could respond, Ser Rowan spoke softly but firmly. "Princess, we must go."

You nodded, the news settling in your stomach like a stone, heavy and cold. You hurriedly followed Aemond and Ser Rowan out of your chamber, your heart pounding with a mix of concern and guilt.

Thoughts raced through your mind—what would you say to Helaena? Would she forgive you for not being there these past months? You hadn’t seen her in nearly ten moons, too consumed by your own sadness to leave your room.

As the three of you made your way to the birthing chambers, the air felt thick with anticipation. Upon reaching the door, you encountered another guard who bowed respectfully at your approach.

"The princess has successfully given birth, your Highnesses," he announced, his voice steady.

You and Aemond exchanged a glance, relief washing over you, and he offered you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to enter and see Helaena, the weight of your past decisions lingering in the back of your mind, but hope beginning to spark within your heart.

As you stepped into the chamber, your eyes immediately found Queen Alicent standing in the center, cradling a tiny bundle in her arms. A soft glow of love radiated from her as she looked down at Helaena's babe, a precious life nestled against her.

Your gaze shifted, and you gasped softly when you finally spotted Helaena on the birthing bed. To your astonishment, she was holding another baby as well.

"Twins," you murmured, the words slipping out louder than intended, catching the attention of both the Queen and Helaena.

Alicent's eyes widened in surprise, and a warm smile spread across her face at the sight of you. "Princess, it brings me joy to see you out of your chambers," she said, her voice gentle.

You nodded, feeling a rush of embarrassment as you shifted your gaze back to Helaena. She was already looking at you, her expression filled with a mix of fatigue and joy. Slowly, you approached the bed, holding your breath as you took in the sight before you.

The babe in Helaena's arms had the unmistakable silver hair of House Targaryen, a stark contrast to the dark-haired children of your brothers. You couldn’t tell if it was a boy or girl, but the sight of the tiny face, so fragile and perfect, made your heart swell.

"What are their names?" you asked softly, careful not to disturb the babe's slumber. Your voice barely rose above a whisper, filled with wonder.

A tiny smile bloomed on Helaena's weary face, her eyes lighting up with pride. She gestured to the babe nestled in her arms. "This is Jaehaera," she said, her voice tender. Then she nodded toward the child cradled by Queen Alicent. "And that is Jaehaerys."

You nodded slowly, feeling a swell of warmth at the names, though a shadow lingered in your mind. You didn’t dare ask where Aegon was; the thought of him missing the birth of his children felt too heavy to voice. Carefully, you settled beside Helaena on the birthing bed, the air filled with soft silence and the smell of newborns.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, unable to meet her gaze as your eyes traced the delicate features of Jaehaera. The babe's tiny fingers curled and unfurled, and your heart ached with a mix of joy and regret.

Helaena's hand found yours, giving a gentle squeeze. "I'm sorry too," she replied, her voice thick with emotion.

Looking up at her, a relieved smile broke through your sadness, tears glistening in your eyes. In that moment, the past felt a little lighter, the bond between you strengthening. But then Helaena's expression turned hopeful. "Would you like to hold her?"

You immediately shook your head, anxiety creeping in. "I don't know how."

"I didn’t know how either before this," Helaena said, her voice soft and encouraging. She carefully passed Jaehaera into your arms. You cradled the babe as if she were made of glass, your heart racing with both fear and delight. "It’s very easy."

A small laugh escaped you, bubbling with nervousness. "She’s very small."

"Yes," Helaena murmured, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. "Just as we were once."

You gazed down at the sleeping babe, feeling the weight of her tiny form in your arms. You glanced up at Helaena, her eyes shining with love and hope, and for the first time in what felt like ages, you felt a glimmer of happiness for the future.

You let out a huge yawn as you finally walked back to your chambers, the weight of the day settling on your shoulders. You had spent most of your time in Helaena's chambers, cradling Jaehaerys and Jaehaera in your arms. Queen Alicent had eagerly encouraged your visits, saying it was good practice for when you would have your own children with Aemond.

The thought felt strange yet comforting. After so many hours spent with the tiny babes, you found yourself warming to the idea of one day having a child with Aemond. Of course, that was a distant thought; you were only twelve now, and marriage was still years away. Yet, the notion no longer filled you with dread.

As your health improved and your mood lightened, Queen Alicent insisted you return to your princess lessons with Septa Agertha. The strict septa had been happy to resume your lessons, and to your surprise, she seemed kinder and softer than before, guiding you patiently through your studies.

Despite your busy days, you always tried to carve out time for Aemond. You cherished those moments, whether you were reading together in the library, basking in the sunlight of the gardens, or watching him train with his sword. Today, you couldn’t help but admire how effortlessly he took down Aegon during practice, his movements fluid and precise.

As you entered your chambers, your eyes immediately narrowed at the sight of Aemond standing amidst the soft pinks of your room, a striking contrast in his dark green leather. He looked entirely out of place, and the nervous smile tugging at his lips only deepened your suspicion.

"It is highly improper for you to visit my chambers so late, Aemond," you teased, crossing your arms as you arched an eyebrow. "Does Ser Rowan know about this?"

Aemond’s smile grew as he replied with a hint of mystery, "Ser Rowan does not know all the entrances to your room."

You rolled your eyes, amused but unconvinced. However, something behind Aemond caught your attention—a small object sitting on your table. You moved closer, but Aemond swiftly stepped in front of you, his hands gently resting on your waist to stop you.

"Wait," he said quickly, clearing his throat. "Before you get angry… don’t. Just trust me."

You eyed him suspiciously but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

"Happy Nameday," Aemond said quietly, almost as if he were embarrassed by the gesture.

You blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Aemond, my nameday was a week ago."

"Still," he muttered, avoiding your gaze for a moment.

With curiosity getting the better of you, you gently pushed past him, approaching the table where the mysterious item sat. There, on the table, was a small brazier pot, the kind used for hatching dragon eggs. Your heart quickened as you slowly lifted the lid.

A heavy sigh escaped your lips when you saw the sparkly navy blue egg resting inside, hot as ever. "Aemond," you whispered, feeling a mix of exasperation and affection.

Aemond stepped up behind you, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I know. But you know what they say—fourth time’s the charm."

You let out a soft laugh, rolling your eyes as you turned to face him. Your noses were practically touching as you corrected him, "It’s third time’s the charm, you stubborn idiot."

"I also brought strawberry cakes," Aemond said, seeing that the sight of the dragon egg had done little to lift your spirits.

You tilted your head with a small smile, "You know the way to my heart, Aemond Targaryen."

The two of you found yourselves lounging on your grand pink canopy bed, nestled among the cushions, feasting on strawberry cakes that Aemond had brought for you. The scent of the sweet berries filled the air, and for a moment, all seemed simple and light in your world.

“Aemond, I’ve been thinking,” you began thoughtfully, wiping a bit of cream from your lips.

Aemond raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a mischievous smirk. “My, my, that is worrisome,” he teased, his voice playful.

You shot him a sharp glare before rolling your eyes. With a lift of your chin, you said firmly, “I’ve decided our first child must be a girl.”

Aemond blinked at you, stunned by the declaration. “You understand we do not get to choose, yes?”

You waved his words away dismissively, as if the very idea of leaving such an important matter to chance was absurd. “I believe if I am firm in my belief, then I shall have the choice,” you replied with the confidence only a twelve-year-old could muster.

Aemond gave you a long, bemused look, as if weighing your words for any sense. After a moment, he sighed and shook his head. “Why?” he asked, indulging your fanciful notion.

“Do not mistake me,” you began, leaning back into the pillows with a thoughtful expression. “I love both Jaehaera and Jaehaerys equally. And if we were to have a son, I would love him just as much.”

A big, silly grin spread across your face as you continued, “But I want a daughter. I want to dress her up, match with her, and have her follow me around in little gowns.”

Aemond gave you a knowing look. “You have Jaehaera for that.”

You pouted dramatically, the cake in your hand momentarily forgotten. “It’s not the same. Jaehaera is Helaena’s, not mine.”

Aemond chuckled softly at your logic. “Alright, alright,” he conceded, raising his hands as if surrendering. “I shall pray to the Seven for us to be blessed with a daughter first.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Perhaps a daughter and a son at the same time?”

You glared at him, flicking a cake crumb in his direction. “Why would you wish something like that upon me? Twins?” You shook your head vehemently.

Aemond’s amused smile only widened as he met your deathly serious gaze. “You’re right, my bad,” he said with a chuckle, brushing the crumb off his tunic.

You huffed, but your irritation quickly melted away as you stuffed another bite of cake into your mouth, a small smile tugging at your lips. Despite his teasing, you knew that Aemond would pray to the Seven for whatever you wished—even if that meant asking for something as impossible as choosing your firstborn's gender.

You glanced down at the strawberry cake in your hand, scrunching your nose. "With all this cake you keep bringing me, Aemond, I’m going to grow fat."

Aemond gave you a thoughtful look, his expression serious yet teasing at the same time. "And? Do they not say that more is always better?"

You tried to hold back your amusement, but despite your best effort, a smile tugged at your lips. You sighed, shaking your head as you chuckled softly. "You’re incorrigible."

Aemond tilted his head, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. "Perhaps. But I speak the truth." His eye glimmered as they held yours for a moment longer. "A bit of extra weight would not lessen your beauty."

You blushed, looking away from him as you fiddled with the edge of your dress. "You say that now," you muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but your heart felt light.

"I shall always say that," Aemond countered smoothly, his voice unwavering, as if he truly meant every word. "No matter what the years bring, you will always be perfect to me."

A warmth spread through you, making your cheeks burn even more. You tried to dismiss it, waving a hand at him. "You just want me to keep eating cake so I’ll be too heavy to run away when you’re being impossible."

Aemond smiled at that, his violet eye gleaming with mirth. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just enjoy seeing you happy. And if it takes cake to do that, so be it."

You laughed then, shaking your head at him. "You’ve won this time, but I’ll have my revenge when I’m too fat to walk."

Aemond smirked, leaning closer to you with a satisfied look. "I’ll carry you, then."

You tilted your head, rolling your eyes at Aemond, wondering why he was looking at you like that, as if the world had shifted between the two of you. Somehow, without realizing it, you had drifted closer, your faces mere inches apart. You could feel his breath, soft and warm, as he leaned in further. His eye fluttered shut, and your heart skipped a beat as you sensed what was coming.

Before anything could happen, your hand instinctively shot up, covering his mouth. Aemond froze, opening his eye wide to see you staring at him with confusion. "What are you doing?" you asked, your voice full of suspicion.

He mumbled something beneath your hand, and you lowered it, giving him a curious look as you tried to catch his words.

Clearing his throat, clearly embarrassed, he murmured, "I was trying to kiss you."

You squinted at him, still doubtful. "Aemond," you began cautiously, "Septa Agertha says if a maiden and a man kiss, she’ll become with child. And I think we should at least wait until the twins’ first nameday before we bring another baby into the castle."

Aemond’s lips pressed together tightly, trying to suppress a laugh. His ears turned red as he responded, "Maidens do not become pregnant because of kisses."

"Then how do they become with child?" you asked, raising a challenging brow, your tone daring him to contradict what you’d been taught.

Aemond’s face flushed deeply, and his gaze flickered away in sheer embarrassment. He seemed to search for a way to avoid the topic. "Your Septa will tell you... in time," he muttered, clearly hoping to escape further questioning.

You were about to protest, about to accuse your Septa of lying again—how could you trust her after she said that about kissing? But the sight of Aemond’s bright red cheeks and the way he squirmed told you it was better to drop it. So, with a sigh, you decided to change the subject. "So then," you asked, "why do people kiss if it’s not to make babies?"

Aemond shifted awkwardly before murmuring, "To show affection. It’s what people do when they love each other. Married couples especially."

You raised a skeptical eyebrow, folding your arms. "I’ve never seen my mother and father kiss. And I’ve never seen Grandsire and the Queen kiss either."

Aemond made an exasperated sound, running a hand through his hair. "Well... they’re different," he said, sounding both frustrated and amused.

You tilted your head again, considering his words. "Different how?"

"Just different," Aemond replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he looked at you. "Not everyone is... affectionate like that."

"So, you want to kiss me because you’re affectionate?" you teased, a small smirk growing on your face.

Aemond’s ears burned again, and he glanced away, muttering under his breath. "Something like that..."

You tilted your head, watching him with amusement before shrugging nonchalantly. "Alright," you said, as if it were the most casual thing in the world. "You may kiss me."

Aemond's head snapped back toward you, his eye wide in disbelief. "Really?" he asked, unsure if you were being serious.

You nodded, offering him a small smile before puckering your lips in a way you thought was appropriate for a kiss. "Go on, then," you said, your lips pursed in a dramatic display.

Aemond stared at you for a moment, utterly bewildered. "You can't stare at me like that," he finally managed, his voice a little strangled as he glanced away again, clearly nervous.

Rolling your eyes, you sighed, "Alright, Aemond," and then did as he requested, squeezing your eyes shut. You sat there, waiting for him to make the first move, your heart thumping in your chest even though you tried to act as though it didn’t matter at all.

The room felt strangely quiet, save for the soft crackling of the fire in the hearth. You could hear Aemond shift slightly, feel the warmth of him as he leaned in closer. The air between you felt charged, as if something important was about to happen.

His breath ghosted across your lips, soft and hesitant, and your heart skipped a beat. But just as you thought the kiss was going to happen, Aemond hesitated again.

"Are you certain?" he whispered, his voice soft and uncertain, as if he didn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable.

Without opening your eyes, you replied with a huff, "Yes, Aemond. Just do it."

Aemond finally leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours in the briefest of kisses. It was awkward and tentative, like neither of you really knew what you were doing, but it was soft and sweet in its own way.

When he pulled back, you opened your eyes, blinking at him. The two of you sat there for a moment, staring at each other in silence, unsure of what to say or do next.

"Well?" Aemond asked, his voice low, his cheeks still a little flushed. "How was that?"

You pursed your lips, considering. "It wasn’t so bad," you admitted, then smiled, a hint of mischief in your eyes. "But I don't think that’ll make me with child, so Septa Agertha must be wrong after all."

Aemond let out a small, relieved chuckle, the tension easing from his shoulders. "No," he agreed quietly, "that won't make you with child."

You both shared a soft laugh, the awkwardness melting away as you realized it wasn’t as strange or nerve-wracking as you thought it would be.

Still, after a moment, you tilted your head and added thoughtfully, "Mayhaps we can try again another time... just to make sure."

Aemond’s face broke into a wide grin at your words, and he shook his head, still amused. "Whenever you like," he promised softly, his voice full of warmth.

Aemond’s smile remained as you shared a quiet moment, a comfortable warmth settling between the two of you. His words, soft and full of promise, made your heart flutter a little, though you tried to ignore it. Just as you were about to speak, a strange sound filled the room.

You paused, frowning in confusion as the sound persisted. Aemond’s brow furrowed, and he gave you the same puzzled look. "What is that?" you asked, your voice low and uncertain.

Before Aemond could answer, the sound came again, louder this time—a soft, irregular rattling, like something gently tapping against metal. Both of you turned your heads toward the source of the noise, your eyes settling on the small brazier pot resting on the table beside your chaise.

The pot was trembling slightly, the lid shifting ever so subtly as if something within was stirring to life.

You exchanged a wary glance with Aemond, both of you too stunned to speak. Hope flickered in your chest, a fragile, cautious feeling that you tried desperately to suppress, even though it grew with each passing second. You didn’t want to feel it—not again. Not after so many failed attempts, so many disappointments.

But as the rattling continued, you couldn’t help but let that hope bloom, filling your chest with an almost painful intensity. You could feel Aemond's steady gaze on you, as if he too shared your mixture of anticipation and disbelief. His hand lightly touched your arm, offering silent reassurance as you both stood frozen in place.

Finally, the rattling grew louder, more insistent. Aemond moved first, stepping cautiously toward the brazier pot, his movements careful, as if approaching something fragile and dangerous all at once.

Your heart pounded in your ears as Aemond gently reached out and lifted the lid.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. You held your breath, waiting, expecting the worst, but then—

A small, sharp crack echoed through the air, and your breath hitched in your throat. Aemond’s eye widened in astonishment as he stepped back slightly, motioning for you to come closer.

With shaky steps, you moved forward, peering into the brazier pot. Inside, nestled among the glowing embers, was the dragon egg—your dragon egg. And it was moving.

Tiny cracks began to spread across the surface, like delicate lines etched into stone. A tiny chirp escaped from within, soft yet insistent, and your heart leapt in your chest.

Aemond’s voice was barely a whisper, full of wonder. "It’s hatching."

You didn’t dare speak, afraid that if you did, the fragile moment would shatter. Instead, you watched in awe as the cracks grew wider, the shell breaking apart bit by bit.

Slowly, a tiny snout poked through the shell, followed by a pair of gleaming, sapphire-blue eyes that blinked up at you curiously.

Aemond’s hand slipped into yours, giving it a gentle squeeze, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to smile.

"It’s really happening," you whispered, barely able to contain the joy welling up inside you.

Aemond stood beside you, his gaze never leaving the hatchling, and he nodded, his voice low but filled with a kind of quiet awe. "Yes, it is."

The tiny dragon stretched its delicate wings, the membrane translucent in the firelight, revealing the rich, dark blue that shimmered against the glow. It was so small, fragile even, yet there was a certain strength in its movements, as though it knew its place in the world. Its scales appeared nearly black in the dim light, but with each flicker of the brazier’s flame, a glint of deep sapphire blue reflected back at you, shimmering like the ocean at night.

You couldn't hold back the soft laugh that bubbled from your lips, a sound of pure, unrestrained joy. Your laughter caught the attention of the little dragon, whose head turned sharply towards you. It blinked, tilting its head, studying you with wide, curious eyes before letting out a sharp screech in response. The sound, though high-pitched, was surprisingly strong for such a tiny creature.

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over, as you knelt closer, your hand trembling slightly as you reached out, but you stopped just short of touching it. It felt too precious, too delicate to handle without care.

"Hello," you murmured, your voice soft and gentle, as though speaking to an infant. "Aren't you absolutely beautiful."

The little dragon blinked again, watching you intently. Its tiny nostrils flared as it took in the scent of the air, its wings fluttering slightly as it made a sound that almost resembled a purr. You couldn't help but smile wider, your heart swelling with affection.

Aemond crouched down beside you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder as he watched the dragon with a look of pride and admiration. "You were meant for each other," he said, his voice filled with certainty.

You looked up at him, tears still brimming in your eyes, and nodded. "I think so," you whispered.

For a long moment, the two of you sat there in quiet awe, watching as the dragon stretched its limbs, adjusting to the world it had just entered. It was strange how something so small could carry such weight, as if this tiny creature already held within it the potential for something great, something magnificent.

As the little dragon shifted closer to you, its warmth radiated through the air, and you felt a bond forming, something deeper than words could express. This was more than just a pet, more than a companion. This was a piece of your soul, reflected in scales and wings, fire and strength.

Aemond’s smile softened as he watched you with the newborn dragon, his gaze flicking between the two of you with a quiet fondness. "What will you name it?" he asked, his voice barely above a murmur, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the moment.

You beamed at the little creature before you, a warmth blooming in your chest as you finally dared to reach out. Gently, you brushed your knuckle against her soft, dark scales. She—yes, she was definitely a girl, you were certain of it—immediately leaned into your touch, her tiny body pressing closer, as if seeking comfort from your warmth.

"Treasure," you whispered, the name slipping from your lips without hesitation. A wide, contented smile grew on your face. "Her name is Treasure."

Aemond blinked, momentarily taken aback by the unexpected name, but then a grin spread across his face, lighting up his features. Of course, you would name your dragon something soft, something sweet and endearing. It was just like you to choose a name that carried such a feeling of warmth, rather than something fierce and grand.

He chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Treasure?" he repeated, his eye twinkling with affection as he looked at you.

You looked up at him, still stroking the dragon’s scales, and nodded firmly. "Yes. Because she’s my treasure," you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

Aemond’s grin only widened as he crouched down beside you again, watching as Treasure nestled closer to your hand, clearly content with the name and her newfound bond with you. "A fitting name," he said quietly, and in that moment, as he watched you and your dragon together, he could see how the two of you were meant for each other.

Treasure let out a soft, sleepy sound, curling closer to the warmth of your hand, and you couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of peace. The bond between you and your dragon was only beginning, but it was already something special—something that would only grow stronger with time.

this is anything but the end

guyssss help, im literally crying thinking about young rhaenyra (milly) and reader as a baby. how reader probably became rhaenyra's new best friend and was the only thing keeping her going in court. And how rhaenyra would talk to her as a full-grown person, while reader, being a baby, would just babble back. And how rhaenyra would probably walk around taking her baby everywhere and riding on Syrax with her. BYE lol that just makes it all sadder

(side note in my head ive decided to give reader/y/n the most basic hotd name and name her aemma. because when she has her own daughter with aemond, she'll name her laenora after her father)

Treasure The dragon

I can just imagine reader doing that Sweeney Todd trend with Treasure:

ohh mr.todd 💋 i'm so happy 💋 I could - 💋 eat you up I really could. you know what I like to do mr. todd 💋 what I dream 💋

Ser Rowan

(it's rick grimes because I say so) (note I've only watched two episodes of the walking dead)

Reader's Mind in a nutshell

(I feel if I made this into a full time fic, reader could lowkey have saved the family and avoided the dance of the dragons entirely)

Hope you enjoyed!

Names that are in bold are ones that couldn't be added :(

@evernores @jouryuu @dbd-mommy @g-cf2020 @sl-ut @radiantdanvers @sillysillygyalsmh @callsignwidow @missyviolet123 @thelastemzy @lechat-rouge @sonichkkaaascreams @djarinsstuff @yovrnewromantic @waiting-fortheupdate @strawberymilktea @ninihrtss @kenqki @winter-solstice24 @darlingcharling-blog @feyresqueen @momoewn @literishdegree99 @xxxkat3xxx @6000-fandoms

#aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #hotd aemond #hotd fanfic #hotd #aemond one eye #aemond x you #hotd x reader

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