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peachysunrize · 3 months ago

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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]

Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemond’s life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaena’s childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl who’s always been in his life make a home in his heart.

Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, fluff and tension! English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 6.5k+

Taglist: if you want to be tagged in the future chapters, please fill this form with your @/usrname!

A/n: sorry for the delay, BUT I THINK YOU WILL LIKE THIS ONE!!! Comments and reblogs are reallly appreciated🥺💕

-> series masterlist <-

Chapter 5: kissing his heart

A mess.

That’s how you feel, that’s how Aemond is.

Denial.

You deny the existence of your feelings towards Aemond and he denies the truth that you still believe he is in love with Alys. Because he is not, he might think about her from time to time but he isn’t in love with her anymore.

Aemond is up early again — early after a rough night of drinks and thinking nonstop means somewhere around noon — which is still earlier than when the entirety of the household wakes up.

He stretches his legs, groaning as the muscles clench and unclench, his limbs tingling with exhaustion from the lack of sleep. Aemond sits up on his bed, running a hand over his face and thinking about how much he needs to discuss with you later today, or anytime you allow him.

He stands up, grabbing his hair tie before he walks towards his bathroom, pulling his hair up into a man bun as he pushes the door open to get ready for the day. After taking his prosthetic eye out, he cleans the empty socket with gauze and the medicine he’s prescribed, untying his hair and hopping under the shower.

He stands under the running water fully naked, and the image of your blown-out pupils and swollen lips makes it hard for him to contain himself, but soon, that image is replaced with the memory of your teary face, and how broken you sounded — he wanted to run after you last night, he wanted to explain, shout and tell you he isn’t in love with Alys anymore.

He leans his head back, and the warm water hits his face and drips down his Adam's apple, trickling down his throat on his chest. He feels each droplet of water on his skin, and thinks about his actions; was he leading you on unwillingly? No, he is awfully smitten with you, so bad that when he thinks of your smile the heat spreads from his chest to his cheeks, leaving him all red and blushing.

His pain is fresh, the gaping wound is still bleeding. Being stood up on your wedding day is not something you can forget so easily. He still feels the agony he did on that day, but not that intensely, and certainly not how lovesick he felt about Alys.

He will always think about her, more so about how she left him than the good memories they made together, but to say he is in love… has he ever felt what real love feels like? Was it how Alys’ responses to his actions made him nervous? How much he felt he needed to prove to her that he was good enough? Was it just that? The fear?

He doubts it Because thinking about you is enough to calm his nerves, and he doesn’t need to worry about whether he is enough or not. All he needs to do is to come clean and reassure and reaffirm his feelings and commitments to you.

Love is a strong word to use when it comes to these early stages of your relationship, but he likes you, a lot.

After the long shower he takes, he wraps the towel around his waist while he dries his hair with another one. He grabs his fresh and clean clothes and drops them on his bed, loosening the towel that sets low on his hip bones so he can put his boxers on, the other towel hanging from one of his shoulders while he puts on his sweatpants.

“Aegon!”

Aemond hears his mother’s screams, rushing out with haste after he puts his eyepatch on in a hurry. When he opens the door he sees his mother pacing around with Cole trying his best to calm her down but it’s all in vain.

“What’s going on?” He hears you say, and when he turns around, he finds you walking out of your room to the highway. Was your room always next to his? How is he just finding this out?

He so shamelessly eyes you; your night shorts cling to your thighs so deliciously, and your top sticks to your chest in a way that has Aemond swallowing harshly before he is forced to avert his eye. But he catches you doing the same, finding you drinking in the sight of his exposed chest and wet droplets that fall from the end of his hair on his abs.

You both look away, clearly flustered and shy from the moment of silent flirting in a room full of people.

“I can’t find Aegon!” Alicent strokes her neck, her nails scratching the soft skin while she walks frantically around, “I searched the entire house for him! He is nowhere!”

“Daeron might know—“

“Daeron… where is Daeron?” She turns around suddenly, her big brown eyes filled with panic as she looks at Criston and in an instant, he reaches to hold her arms gently.

“We’ll find them, now breathe, please…”

“No, what if Aegon has done something again and now they’re not okay?”

“Mother,” Aemond nods at Cole before he reaches to grab her elbows, looking into her eyes, “I will find them both, alright? Don’t worry, Cole and I will bring them before you know it.”

“Please go find them, Aemond. Your brothers lack self-control and they make my blood pressure go high—“

Aemond chuckles and nods, “Take the girls down, we’ll find them and join you, yeah? Don’t be too hard on yourself, Mum, you’re doing fine.”

“Yes, okay, alright…” she reaches to bring him to her height, pressing a gentle kiss on his forehead before she looks at you and tells you to get ready for the day.

“Yes, Ma’am!” You smile at her, waiting for both Cole and Alicent to go, leaving you and Aemond alone in the hallway.

“I missed your eyepatch,” you say quietly, a small yet awkward smile on your lips as you try to break the tension.

“Temporary,” he says, clearing his throat as he watches your smile falter because of his short answer, and he mentally face palms himself for not doing his best in showing his interest clearly, “I— wait!”

You quickly walk into your room, and he groans in annoyance as you slam the door shut, not allowing him to say even a word. With a loud sigh, he goes into his room as well, grabbing an oversized T-shirt to put on before he leaves and goes to find Aegon and Daeron.

Aemond makes his way to the guest wing, the entire house is covered in empty cups and crumbs of food, and more importantly, he finds Daeron dropped on top of Aegon, both snoring loudly and drooling while they sleep.

“Why am I not surprised?” He asks, pinching the bridge of his nose as he stares down at his brothers, “wake up,” he yells, but they don’t budge, sleeping soundly.

“Aegon, wake the fuck up,” he grabs the closest cup that is filled with water and splashes it on Aegon’s face, causing the older brother to sit up abruptly, gasping as he knocks the youngest off of him.

“What is your fucking problem?” Daeron asks in a raspy voice, coughing a bit as he realizes how much his throat might be hurting with all the screaming from last night.

“My problem is that Mum has been searching for you fuckfaces since she’s woken up. You better get up and show up for breakfast so she doesn’t freak out any more than she already has.”

“You’re her favorite, tell her—“

“As if,” Aemond scoffs at Daeron as he strides toward his brothers and grabs them by their necks to pull them up, “come on, let’s go. And…it’s not me. Helaena is her favorite.”

“He’s right—urgh, don’t pinch me!” Aegon whines when Aemond pinches behind his ear, “Was she mad?”

“No, just ready to give you one of her most heartwarming smiles,” Aemond pushes them both out of the guest wing, smirking when they both stumble and groan.

“She’s going to murder us in cold blood then,” Daeron fakes a cry, knowing how Alicent gets when she’s nervous — deadly, that’s how she gets, and for some sick and twisted reason, Aegon and Daeron love to toy with that side of her.

“Good morning, ladies!” Aegon announces as they step inside the kitchen, watching how Alicent smiles and cocks her head to the side, eyeing the two Targaryen boys.

“Not sure if it was a good one for you,” Aemond’s head turns in the direction of your sound, finding you leaning on the counter with two cups of coffee in hand, wearing a floral dress Helaena had gifted you when you went on your shopping dates a few weeks ago.

He watches as you hide your eyes from him before walking towards him, giving him a tight-lipped smile and handing him his coffee, slowly meeting his gaze when he reaches to grab the cup handle, his fingers brushing over yours a bit, sending jolts of joy through his body.

“Don’t be mean to my brother!” Helaena says as she jogs into the kitchen, her white hair flowing around her shoulders, but stops abruptly and looks around the room, narrowing her eyes at Aemond, “Did you not have a good sleep?”

“Noooo, princess, this douchebag—“

“Not you, him…” Helaena cuts Aegon off but she smiles at him and lets him pull her closer for a hug, pressing his cheek to hers as they both — and everyone in the room — stare at Aemond.

“What?”

“You look like you’ve broken up with your girlfriend,” she says, her eyes following as you take a step away from Aemond and look down at your feet, clearly flustered.

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” he wants though, he desperately wants to have you as his girlfriend, “and you’re right, I didn’t sleep well because I had a headache.”

“A headache wouldn’t make your eye swollen,” Helaena shrugs and with a kiss on Aegon’s cheek, she approaches you, standing in front of you as she stares at you in a not-so-calming way, “You too… you look like you’ve been… crying yourself to sleep.”

“Can you stop being creepy for a minute and let us drink our coffee in peace?” You ask, glancing at Aemond who looks away immediately after he catches your gaze, looking down at his coffee cup while you try to distract Helaena from the awkwardness and undeniable tension between you and her brother.

“I’m not being creepy!”

“Then what do you call it?” Daeron asks, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he looks at Hel, “because it’s fucking creepy when you just say these things out of nowhere.”

“It’s called intuition! I’m not trying to scare anyone, I just… I feel it in my bones that something is wrong with these two—“

Suddenly she looks at you, her amethyst eyes wide and blown with the realization. She clears her throat when her eyes fall on Aemond’s flushed cheeks and your slack jaw.

“I’m gonna make myself some tea…” she whispers, giving you a very quick nudge, “we’ll talk later.”

“Yeah, later,” you nod hesitantly, biting the inside of your cheek as you follow her movements, stealing glances at Aemond who is doing the same, making the room’s atmosphere more tense than it already is.

“What’s today’s plan?” Daeron looks around, waiting for someone to answer.

“I say we should head to the storage to bring out more beers—“

“Over my dead body,” and you all turn to Alicent who’s been watching all of these interactions silently, sipping on her hot tea, “today, you two—“ she points at Daeron and Aegon, “will clean the guest wing. I want it spotless.”

“That’s torture! Mum—“

“And Aemond will keep an eye on you.”

“What?” It’s Aemond’s turn to ask, his good eye widens in surprise, “I’m not their babysitter, I have a lot of stuff to take care of.”

“No, not today,” she says, “and you girls… you can do whatever you want, you’ve been good.”

“Awe, thank you so much, Mummy,” Hel blows Alicent a kiss, walking back towards you to loop her arm around yours, “c’mon. Let’s go to my room.”

“Told ya she’s her favorite—ah! For fuck sake can this family stop smacking my head?” Aegon whines again but ultimately melts under the kiss Alicent presses on the crown of his head, “Alright, I’m convinced.”

“Spotless,” she points at Daeron and then Aemond before walking out of the kitchen.

“Where are you two going?” Aegon asks and looks at you and Hel.

“Girl talk, no assholes included,” Helaena pulls you after her, giggling a bit as you pass Aemond and Aegon.

“Girl talk without me? You know my tits are nicer than hers, right?”

“That’s not gonna work on her, you perv!” Helaena turns around and glares at Aegon, “Only dumb girls around you would give in and show you their tits.”

“They actually try to prove you wrong?” Aemond scoffs, and you snort at his tone, his eye locking with yours when you laugh at what he said, and in return, he gives you a small and heartwarming smile.

“You fucking genius—“ Hel pulls you out of the kitchen, not letting you listen to the rest of the conversation.

“Get inside, shoo shoo, go!” She pushes you slightly inside, “You better talk, babe. Cause I’ll be pulling words out of your mouth like a vacuum.”

“I think I like your brother,” you blurt the words out, slapping your palm on your mouth as soon as you realize what you just said, “shit, ignore that—“

“I knew it!” She squeals, putting her cup of tea down on the closest table she can reach, “see? I wasn't being creepy! I knew something was up, I knew it!”

“Really, Helaena?” You scoff but chuckle at her enthusiasm, “I just told you I think I like your brother and you say you ‘knew it’? What exactly do you know thanks to your so-called intuition?”

“Not much, but I know Aemond is not someone who cries a lot unless he is in horrible pain. Now you tell me what happened last night, please.”

“I fucked up,” you shrug, hands joining to show how stressed and on edge you are, “that’s what I did. I fucked up our friendship, I fucked up this whole thing between us. I just… I messed it up so fucking bad, Hel.”

“Oh, baby, come here,” as soon as she opens her arms, you throw yourself between them and let her lead you to bed, holding you close as you make yourself comfortable on the pillows, “You did not mess up anything. Aemond is a tough person to read, sometimes you can’t get through his walls.”

“But… that’s the thing… I read him, and-and I told him that he still loved Alys—“

“What? When did you say that?” She asks, squeezing your arms, “Details, babe, give me all of it.”

“I was in his workshop, I know I shouldn’t have but I was pretty tipsy! So… he found me there, one thing leads to another… and…”

“And…?” she urges you on, holding her breath in as she waits for you to talk.

“And we kissed—”

“You kissed my brother?” she asks, pushing you out of her arms a bit while looking at you with her huge confused, and awfully bright eyes, “and you told him he loved Alys?”

“Babe, I’m so fucking sorry, I know I overstepped, I should have never ever kissed—”

“Hey, hey, no, come here,” she brings you back in her arms quickly, shushing your sobs as best as she can, “I didn’t mean it like that! You didn’t overstep, babe! It’s just… Aemond isn’t a person who would go around and kiss women left and right! So if he has kissed you…then he is pretty serious about you.”

“I just—don’t wanna be his rebound because he is hurt his fiance left him! I…want more than just being a quick fuck for him.”

“First of all, we ain’t gonna talk about my brother’s sex life,” you snort and she laughs, threading her soft fingers through your hair, “Secondly, I don’t think he believes you are just a hookup to him. He holds grudges quite well, he may forgive but doesn’t forget. So, my point is, he is no longer in love with Alys, and probably holds a deep gut-wrenching hatred for her, but she was also his first love, his… first everything.”

“You’re saying that his feelings are gone?” you ask, your voice smaller than before, “because…what we have is so different from any relationships I’ve ever had! It’s a mutual understanding, a friendship I cherish a lot.”

“I don’t know about his feelings, but I can feel and see that he no longer holds romantic love for her. Alys was the reason Aemond moved out, she persuaded him to become independent stand up on his own feet, and not be like Aegon. But I’m just an observer, I see it from outside, and I can feel it.”

“Your intuition telling you there is nothing to worry about?” you ask her hopefully, wiping the remaining tears off your cheeks before you hold her hand in yours and sit side by side with her.

“Yup, but you two need to have a long talk. Let him say his piece, or else I fear he’ll go crazy,” she squeezes your hand before jumping off the bed, “Turn on the TV, babe. I’m going to go grab some snacks so we can watch a bunch of sad rom-coms and cry.”

Hel walks out of the room, humming to herself as she makes her way to the kitchen. As soon as she steps inside, she finds Aemond leaning on the counter with his face between his hands.

“Hey…”

“Hey, Helaena,” he gives her a small smile, “What are you doing here?”

“Grabbing something to eat and knock some sense in you,” she explains, crossing her arms over her chest, “why do you make things difficult for yourself?”

“Because it’s better to be ready than not even think about the outcome,” he shrugs and gives her a confused look, “what are you even saying?”

“I’m saying that you don’t need to be so hard on yourself! The answer is right in front of you,” she says, pulling out a bag of chips but Aemond’s voice stops her.

“Let’s say… I like someone,” he starts, glancing at Helaena who turns around with a soft expression on her face, “and… fresh out of this mess, I am serious about whatever is going between us.”

“But…?” “But I’m not good at voicing my feelings, and I’m afraid I’ve screwed my chance already,” Aemond sighs, biting his lip in frustration, “I…I want to be with her, but I’m terrified that I can’t show her how much I appreciate her.”

“All she needs is some reassurance that you are no longer in love with Alys,” she walks to him, rubbing his back lovingly. “Talk to her, drive out of here, and take her somewhere beautiful and romantic. Make her feel special because I’m sure she is special to you.”

“Thanks—” “Don’t hurt her, Aemond, and don’t let her hurt you either.”

A day or two passes by, and finally after gathering his courage, he asks if you’d like to go to the nearby beach. Helaena agrees on your behalf immediately, dragging you upstairs to get you ready before the sunset so you can arrive there just on time.

Aemond, in all of his glory with his loose gray dress pants and his olive-colored shirt — first two buttons were undone — looks nothing compared to your beauty when you walk downstairs.

Aemond takes off his sunglasses, swallowing harshly as he takes you in; you’re wearing a white maxi skirt with a blue crop top and Helaena’s heart-shaped sunglasses — which he’s sure Hel forced you to wear. You look ethereal, with sunlight shining on your hair and a shy smile on your face when you notice how he’s staring at you with his jaw on the floor.

“Oh,” he clears his throat when you push the heart-shaped glasses on your head, rocking on the balls of your feet with your hands behind your back, “you look…wow.”

“Thank you,” you say, clearly flustered and smiling, “you don’t look too bad yourself, Little nerd.”

“Thanks, come on, I… I wanna take you somewhere,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking at you a bit hesitant, “Of course if you want to—“

“I agreed to come, Aemond, of course, I would want to. Lead the way please,” you wait for him to take you to his car, but unlike the Chevy Camaro you rode from his house to here, he leads you to a silver BMW 507 that you have never seen before.

“This is gorgeous,” you say in awe as you skim your hand over the hood of his car, “I had no idea you owned such a babe.”

“My uncle bought this for me,” he says, following you as you make your way to the passenger seat, opening the door before he holds your hand and helps you in the car.

“Daemon? Really?”

“Oh no,” he shakes his head, “Uncle Gwayne, Mum’s older brother.”

“I’ve never met him, but this is such a gorgeous gift,” you watch as he rounds the car and gets in the driver’s seat, turning the car on before his hands grip the steering wheel and he backs out of the parking, opening the gates with a remote.

You close your eyes and let the wind blow through your hair, and Aemond glances at you, a ghost of a small on his face while he keeps looking between you and the road.

He sighs, the beach and the wharf coming into his view and he mentally pulls himself together and takes a few deep breaths to collect his thoughts and get ready to talk to you. He parks his car and helps you out of the car with your hand in his.

He doesn’t step back when you stand in front of him, his face inches away from yours while your body is caged between his body and the car. He can feel your chest moving with each breath you take — which is now more than normal and he is near losing his mind.

“Come,” he lets go of your hand and shoves them in his pockets, his hair framing his face and shoulders as he watches you walk side by side with him.

“This is so beautiful, Aemond, thank you,” you give him a reassuring smile as if you notice how stressed he is.

“Nothing is as beautiful as you…” he whispers, watching as you look away from him immediately, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from grinning while he curses himself under his breath, thinking how much of an idiot he is for saying this.

“Yeah…” you fiddle with your fingers, “did you enjoy the party?”

“I did,” he confirms, his eye locking with yours as you reach the beach, walking on the soft sand, “I enjoyed it a lot.”

The way he looks at you is enough to set your heart ablaze. His stare is heated, and he knows for sure you’re aware of what he is thinking about.

The kiss that left both of you breathless.

The kiss that had your hearts beating in sync.

The kiss that left you with teary eyes.

The kiss.

That is all the two of you were able to think about.

“So…” you start, kicking the soft sand with your sandals, “you said you wanna talk about something…”

“Yes, urm…” he takes a deep breath, “I want to explain something, and…and I hope that we can work on…”

“Us,” you finish his sentence, nodding in understanding, “we will work on us.”

“When you said that I love Alys, at first I thought you were being impulsive, that…” he inhales sharply, “that you wanted an out because… because our kiss was a mistake.”

“You think it was a mistake?” You ask suddenly, stopping and grabbing Aemond’s forearm, “What do you mean it was a mistake?”

“No!” he replies, shaking his head as his eyes widen in terror that somehow he messed up again, “No, no, darling, not at all! I meant that… I thought when you said I love Alys was because you realized that our kiss was a mistake and you regretted it! I thought it was the best kiss I’ve ever had…”

With the last part, he takes your hands in his, and brings them up to his lips, and kisses your knuckles a few times, smiling softly at you.

“Really?” “Really,” his flushed cheeks match your flustered expression, “When you said those words… I thought about it a lot, and…and you’re right,” your smile falls but he is faster and pulls you closer, bringing your fists to his chest as he kisses your forehead, “I love her, but not because I think about her romantically. I love her for making me realize what I’ve been missing out. Five years of misery and never have I ever felt such strong emotions toward her that I do for you. I love her in a way that I’m thankful for those experiences she and I went through because all of those moments led me to you.”

“Aemond…” you flatten your hands on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

“I think about her because the wound is still fresh because sometimes I’m reminded of the way she made me feel on my wedding day, I think about the moments I thought I was in love but in reality…I just wanted not to be left alone. And now… It’s not like that with you,” he rests his forehead on yours, both of you closing your eyes to let yourselves be consumed in the moment, “I’m not in love with her, there is only one place in my heart and that belongs to you.”

“I’m so sorry, little nerd, I—” “Shh,” one of his hands cups your cheek, and he leans down to brush his nose against yours, “I’m sorry for not showing how much you mean to me, I do better, I promise.”

“Kiss me,” you say, breathless and teary as you crane your neck, your breaths mingling together as you whisper again, “Kiss me, Aemond.”

“With pleasure.”

His lips meet yours in a slow yet passionate kiss, and once again, your taste makes him dizzy with need. This time the desire is stronger, and he can feel your desperation too with how you lick his bottom lip and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him even closer.

You whimper when he bites your lower lip, pushing his tongue inside your mouth as soon as you part your lips and give him access. He sighs into your mouth as he kisses your breath away, angling his head to taste you better and breathe in your scent more.

“Show me,” you break the kiss, pecking his cheek as you whisper in his ear, “I need to feel you, please, show me.”

“Come with me,” he kisses the tip of your nose before he laces his fingers through yours.

“Where are you taking me, sir?” You ask with a sultry voice, “Hopefully not to your car because I would hate to drive back and have your family catch us.”

“Absolutely not, my darling,” he pulls you with him, watching as the sunset’s pink hues fall on your face, creating a soft halo around your face and he suddenly pulls you in for a kiss, surprising you. You kiss him back with a chuckle, smiling against his lips as he keeps pecking your face.

“What was that for?”

“You looked so beautiful, I couldn’t resist,” he says, helping you up on the stairs of the wharf, leading you towards a yacht you’ve never seen before.

“If you think you can woo me with your money, Aemond Targaryen, you are so right!” You look at the huge yacht, finding a captain standing and waiting for you.

“Well then I’ve brought you to the best place,” he shakes the captain’s hand, “We won’t be needing your services today, sir, thank you.”

He helps you on the yacht, joining you quickly so he can show you around but you stop him, pulling him downstairs towards the few doors you spotted earlier.

“We’ll see the rest of the yacht later, take me to the bedroom right now,” you bite your lip when he smirks at you and pulls you towards a door, pushing it open before he enters the room.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks, keeping his eyes on you as you make your way to the bed, sitting on the edge of it.

“I want you to show me how much I mean to you.”

“And how do you want me to do that?” He asks, resting his hands on the bed next to your thighs, leaning down so his face is only mere inches away from you.

“You can start with getting on your knees,” you push him down with your hands on his shoulders, giggling softly when he raises his not-damaged eyebrow at you, “don’t keep me waiting.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he says, taking his sunglasses off his head and dropping it on the floor, grabbing your ankles to slowly pull off your sandals, kissing his way up under your skirt.

He mouths at the flesh of your thighs; kissing, nibbling, and sucking as he draws an invisible path towards your clothed pussy, his head swimming with lust as he gets to be so close to you, closer he has ever dared to imagine.

He gives a quick kiss to the wet spot on your panties, hooking his fingers in the hem of the fabric before he pulls it down, humming as he exposes your heat to the chill air of the room. Aemond kisses your mound, trailing the soft pecks down to your buzzing clit, and as soon as his lips press against the nerves you arch your back.

The sigh you let out is enough encouragement for him to keep going, and he does — he presses open-mouthed kisses on your cunt, sucking and licking in a way that has your mind melting beneath his touch.

“I need to see you,” you tell him, wiggling a bit to push your skirt down. Aemond, more eager than you, detaches himself from you and pulls your skirt off roughly, grabbing your thighs tightly before he dives in, more starved than before.

He wants to go rough, taking and feasting on you like a dog in heat, but not now. He promises to give you an orgasm that makes you feel fuzzy and warm all over. You will have enough time to make memories later…

He laps lazily at your folds, his nails digging into your hips as he runs the tip of his tongue over the bundle of nerves, picking up his pace.

You fist the sheets with one hand while the other goes to his soft hair, pushing your fingers through the silky silver strands as he fastens his movements, his tongue drawing wordless apologies on your wet pussy lips, poking your entrance from time to time — his pace is dizzying, and you crave more and more of his attention to be on you, to show his care for you.

And who is he to deny such a sweet request?

He brings one of his hands down when you whimper ‘more’ and gives him the go. His thumb rubs slow languid circles on your clit, making you close your thighs around his head, back arching off the bed.

Aemond lets his finger gently caress your dripping hole, pushing the digit in slowly, before he starts thrusting it in and out, curving it a little so he brings you closer and closer to your high. While he adds another finger, he attaches his lips upward, sucking on your nerves quite harshly, leaving you a hot mess as you moan and chant his name while he feasts upon you.

“Fuck, Aemond, more— I need more!”

He smiles against you, his nose buried between your thighs as he starts fucking you harshly with his long and thick fingers, curving them enough to nudge the sweet spot inside you with each thrust.

With each filthy sound that echoes in the room, you gasp and cry out for more, a relief only he can give you, and he will give it to you gladly — he keeps his lips locked to your cunt while his fingers prod and scissor you open for him, making you ready to take him.

“Ae-Aemond! I’m close— so-so close!”

“Mhmm, go on, darling, come on my face, I want it, I need it,” he mumbles against your pussy, keeping his fingers knuckles deep inside you while his other hand comes to rub quick little circles on your clit, “Give it to me, beautiful, do it now.”

And you do; you come with a shuddering gasp and a loud broken moan that makes Aemond nearly lose his sanity and empty his balls in his pants like a virgin teenage boy.

He keeps thrusting his fingers inside you slowly as he crawls on top of you, kissing you a bit with your arousal glistening on his chin, helping you ride your euphoric orgasm.

“Are you alright? Do you need a minute?” He asks, pulling his fingers out gently as he gazes down at you, “We can stop right here.”

“I think I will die if I don’t get to have you now.”

“That’s quite the exaggeration, is it not?” He kisses you, waiting for your breathing to calm down a bit, “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’m no better than you. I will probably die if I don’t get to be inside you in a minute.”

“Then take off these clothes and get on the bed!” You whine, pulling on his clothes and he takes them off without any further hesitation, dropping them on the floor next to your skirt, breathing in sharply when he looks down to see you shedding your top and lying down beneath him stark naked.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he mutters and bends down to kiss you and help you lay upper on the pillows with him making a home between your thighs.

“Have you seen yourself?” You smile at him, reaching between your bodies for his now painfully hard cock, squeezing him a little before stroking him a few times, “I will sue you if you ever wear clothes around me from now on.”

“I could say the same about you,” he leans down, holding himself up by his forearms next to your head, “Clean?”

“Yeah…” you reply shakily, guiding the red tip of his cock to your entrance, holding your breath in as he pushes in slowly. You gasp, hands flying up to his waist, digging your nails in as he stretches you out and sheaths himself inside you.

“Fucking hell—“

“I won’t last long,” he sighs, leaning down to hide his face in your neck, his hips pressed tightly against yours as he lets you both adjust — and give himself a minute to compose himself, or else he would lose himself in your warmth.

“I-I won’t either,” you whine and buck your hips, signaling him to move, “just… please!”

He nods shakily, pulling his hips back a little before thrusting in slowly, testing the waters before he sets his pace, watching how your face morphs into pleasure.

Aemond fastens his pace, hips snapping against yours eagerly, the sound of skin slapping against each other fills the room while you both groan and moan in ecstasy.

“Fuck,” he groans into your ear, hand reaching to thread his fingers with yours and you compile, turning your head to look at him as he closes his eye and whimpers your name.

“Open your eyes,” you say gently in a tone laced with pleasure, “I wanna watch how you look when you come for me.”

His eye shots open the moment he hears you, both of your bodies shaking as you tighten around him, signing you’re close. He is right behind you, his cock twitching deep inside you as he hits your spot at a fast pace, abandoning his morals as he fucks you harder, letting go of your hand to reach for your face, staring deep into your eyes while you come undone for him.

He takes note of how your lips fall apart, your eyebrows twist in a frown and your body twitches when your orgasm washes over you.

“Come for me, Aemond.” With your words, he pulls out and strokes himself, painting your stomach with his cum, his hand shaking as he groans from deep inside his throat.

“Holy fuck,” he says as he drops next to you on his side, his red cheek and chest on display, body heaving with rapid breaths, “you okay?”

“More than okay,” you turn your head to look at him, scooting closer to him to brush the few strands of hair that have fallen out of his tie off his beautiful face, “factory reset time?”

“Insatiable beast,” he groans and rolls on top of you, biting your earlobe and your squeal only spurring him on, “Give me ten minutes and I can go again.”

“Good, you won’t get much sleep tonight.”

Aemond wakes up by feeling a pair of soft lips on his neck and collarbones, and for the first time in a long time, he wakes with a smile on his face.

“Hmm, morning,” he says, tightening his arms around your back as you keep pressing kisses on his chest, “What are you doing?”

“I’m kissing your heart,” you pout at him, the gleam in your eyes not matching the innocent tone you have.

“What?”

“That was so fucking cheesy, I’m sorry,” you laugh, dropping your head on his shoulders, wrapping your arm around him as he joins you, his chest moving up and down with each laughter.

“Well, I cannot say I didn’t like it,” he shrugs, kissing the crown of your head, “you should be more cheesy.”

“Don’t get your hopes too high, mister,” you cup his cheek, caressing his scarred cheek slowly, “No promises, but I will make your life much harder.”

“I’m looking forward to it—“ his phone rings and suddenly, the invisible bubble of your secret bursts. He sighs and gives you an apologetic smile but you kiss it away and crawl towards the end of the bed to reach and grab his phone, “Who is it?”

“Alicent,” you lay back on his chest when he answers the phone.

“Morning, Mum,” he starts, “Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. We’re fine, please don’t panic, alright? I showed her The Queen in Chains, and we stayed the night here… yes, Mum, we’ll get ready and come back before noon.”

“We should head back home, right?”

“Not now,” he turns off his phone and turns to you, “I wanna stay here more, I don’t think I have looked at you enough.”

“Cheesy,” you poke his chest before kissing the spot, melting in his arms as he caresses your naked back, “What am I going to do with you, sweet talker?”

“Unfortunately, you are stuck with me.”

#aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #hotd smut #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #aemond smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fluff #🍊dreams

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icanseethefuture333 · 4 months ago

Text

PAC: What good luck is coming your way?⋆｡.°•✩

‘I’m so lucky

I’m a star

But I cry, cry, cry in my lonely heart, thinkin’

“If there’s nothin’ missin’ in my life

Then why do these tears come at night?”’

Pile 1:

Shufflemancy -

Potential Breakup Song by Aly & AJ

Best Friend’s Brother by Victoria Justice

(There’s Gotta Be) More To Life by Stacie Orrico

Discipline, Courage, Freedom, Communication, Twin Flame, Talking, Family, Plan A Vacation, Two of Air (Equilibrium), Daughter of Air, & Nine of Cups

The good luck that’s coming to your life, pile 1, is balance, confidence, and stability. Some of you could have Libra or Taurus placements. You could have had a rocky upbringing in life but it didn’t stop you from becoming the individual you are today. You could be a very loving person and have a lot to give to others. You may dim yourself down and feel that you are not all that special and often put others on a pedestal, whether that’s a family member, friend, celebrity, or partner. You need to see what’s special inside of you. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, dear. Some of you could have a very close relationship with your parents or grandparents. I’m having a vision of a little kid running to their guardian for comfort and receiving hugs. This is a message for some of you - you guys should visit your old childhood home for abundance or need to call your parents and rekindle the relationship you had with them, they miss you very much. If you have inner child wounds from your family, you need to resolve them in order to make progress. Don’t get stuck in this current phase of your life, you need to embrace change and new beginnings. I’m seeing that there is an intense connection with a romantic interest. Some of you might be in a stagnant relationship that is not benefiting you and it is hindering your growth, I think it would be best if stay single for a while. You are growing up and you are changing, that is a good thing! Some of you have a crush on someone and you are wishing to express your feelings, I see that if you talk to this person, things could actually go very well! Although, you must focus on making yourself happy first before seeking this person. Again, you need to focus on self love first. When is the last time you did something for yourself, pile 1? Make the choice today to be the hero you always needed. Be brave, pile 1. Some of you as a child might of loved the movie Starstruck and Princess Protection Program. You should watch these films to hear the messages in them, they might give you guidance. A father figure in your life may also provide clarity for what you have been feeling. Try to reflect on the relationship you had with your parents and how that results in your relationships with others. A lesson is needed to be learned at that time, once it is completed, you will notice a drastic transformation in your friendships and romantic life. You are going to be secure with who you are as a person and won’t feel the need for others to complete a part of yourself that was feeling empty. Additionally, some of you are wishing to make a bold move. Are you wishing to travel? Take a vacation? A trip to a place you always wanted to go? Now is a good time to do so. Crossroads could be an important film and may resonate with your situation.

Affirmations:

“I can accomplish what I set my mind to”

“I find the inner strength to face fear with confidence”

Pile 2:

Shufflemancy -

Superstar by Jamelia

Love Don’t Cost A Thing by Jennifer Lopez

Whatever You Like by T.I

Loneliness, Love, Money, Courting, Cassette, Love Call, The Star, Ten of Water (Repletion), & Mother of Water

Your good luck charm, pile 2, is the charm of love, fortune, and gifts. There is someone who wishes to come into your life and spoil you. I feel that you are independent and successful in your endeavors. You are good with your finances and you may look high maintenance in appearance (you may own luxury, brand name items, or your style is just very prissy n pretty). You have an admirer that really appreciates how you carry yourself as an individual and has great respect for your accomplishments. I’m reminded of the lyrics from the song She Got Her Own by Ne-Yo ft Jamie Foxx & Fabolous:

“Knowin’ she can do for herself

Makes me wanna give her my wealth”

When this person approaches you, you will look at them like they’re crazy. You might even be offended when they offer you help or try to do chivalrous things. Do not block your blessing, this person can give you access to bigger career opportunities. You have to release your outdated beliefs. I understand you are trying to protect your heart and peace of mind, but how can you make progress in your desired career field without connections? Your spirit guides know you have expensive taste and that you won’t be the only one capable of funding that lifestyle. I’m getting Nara Smith and Lucky Blue Smith vibes. They are both working individuals but Lucky spoils Nara with gifts like designer bags and luxurious items. You give off WAG and video vixen vibes, pile 2. Your beauty is reminiscent of Meagan Good, Christina Milian, Lee Hyori, & Vanessa Bryant in the early 2000s. You could have received a lot of envy from others growing up and was always in the center of gossip. People’s consistent haterade being thrown at you has made you isolate yourself, you were never lonely because you had to be your own best friend. Some of the people who picked this pile were bullied growing up or had a hard time making friends. You are strong and confident but constantly having your guard up out of fear of being hurt is making you miss out on life. Princess and The Frog may be a very significant film that you need to watch. Tiana was hard working and had dreams of opening a restaurant so much that it made her miss out on having fun and spending time with other people, as well as using work as a coping mechanism to cope with her father’s death. It becomes unhealthy when you have the assumption that most people are inherently evil and focusing all your attention on work, allow yourself to make connections with others and have fun every once in a while. It won’t kill ya to take a break, money isn’t the source of all happiness. Changing your mindset would attract more positive interactions within the workplace, college, and in your interpersonal relationships. You know you have great qualities so try to showcase this when having a conversation. Also smile! You have cute facial expressions when you’re not making a RBF lol. You may have a hustler mindset because of being poor as a child but this does not reflect your current reality, pile 2. Some of you may also be pursuing an education, taking courses regarding your culture could provide you with some insight. Turn to your ancestors for strength and wisdom on making the right choices regarding love. You are divinely protected either way so misfortune is not at all in your destiny!

Affirmations:

“I know that I am never alone”

“I commit to the practice of seeing good in all things”

Pile 3:

Shufflemancy -

Stereo Love by Edward Maya ft. Vika Jigulina

Electric Feel by MGMT

Who Said by Miley Cyrus

Judgment, Pride, Past Life, Ice King, Karmic Relationship, The Snake, Five of Air (Conflict), Four of Fire (Perfection), & Mother of Air

Pile 3, with the lucky girl syndrome~ I see that you will be releasing yourself from other people's expectations and instead will pursue your desires. You could have grew up in a strict household and had family members who believed that being successful, wealthy, and having good grades was more important that self expression and being "happy". Financial security was prioritized over emotions and this had left your heart cold. You could be someone who has a hard time expressing their feelings and can be quite feisty when engaging in conversations. I see that you have always wanted to be more of the rebellious one or had to be rebellious in secret. The Bratz movie could be very significant to this pile, you might relate to one of the girls or one of the Bratz is your favorite doll (Jade, Sasha, Yasmin, or Cloe). I also see The Game Plan and Herbie - Fully Loaded for some of you were your comfort movies as a child. Growing up, you might of changed your clothes after your parents dropped you off at school or got dress coded often by your teachers/principal. You could have felt insecure as a child for not being able to dress like the other kids or not being allowed to wear a makeup. You have the power, pile 3. You are no longer this child anymore, this might hurt knowing you never got to experience the same emotional fulfillment other teens/adults did as children, but the good news is you have so much time to make up for it now! Take the initiative today and write down all things you never got to do but always wanted to have and start making a list of methods you could use to make this possible. As long as you put the effort in, anything could happen! I also feel that you compete with those of the same sex. You could come across people that are catty and try to put you down for no reason. You might also have these traits yourself and you need to reflect on how you treat other people, having opinions is normal but being judgemental and making assumptions about others before giving them a chance, is not. You have to acknowledge your flaws and the triggers you have been avoiding. For example, if you know that you easily get pissed off because you grew up in a household where arguing was normalized, realize that behavior isn't healthy. Overall, the good luck that you will be receiving is in regards to your independence and self expression. Additionally, I see you perfecting your craft. Some of you enjoy fashion, science, graphic design, and/or mathematics, you could receive an award or some sort of acknowledgement for your creative ideas!

Affirmations:

"I understand that everyone has their own unique path and challenges"

"I love myself, and I see myself in everyone"

Thanks so much for reading and I wish you the best of luck with whatever makes you happy in life 🍀

#pac #pick a card #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarot #tarot reading #astro observations #astrology #astrology observations #witchcraft #y2k #mcbling #2000s #pop culture #nostalgia #Spotify

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endless-ineffabilities · 30 days ago

Text

sapphire-hearted (part six)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Aemond races to find you, but will he be too late?

themes/warnings: language, some angst and pining, Aemond's attempt at being a wedding crasher

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The days in King’s Landing have stretched thin and hollow since you departed. Aemond’s face is impassive, his mouth a tense line as he stalks through the stone corridors, but beneath his steely exterior, frustration gnaws away, relentless in its assault.

Your voice, your touch, the sweet nectar of your cunny—the memory of his last encounter with you festers like a wound. He sees it, feels it all whenever he shuts his eyes, the way his incomparable, beautiful Lady rode him without abandon.

But you left a fortnight ago, bound for your familial seat, House Darry in the Riverlands, with barely a farewell. You mentioned something about duty, and tending to an ailing cousin, and you were gone before he could fully express his displeasure. He impatiently awaits for you to return to him, for it is in his arms where you truly belong.

Alys is relentless. Her whispered words, her sidelong glances, all promises of power and alliance. She revels in his ambition. In his hunger for victory, which proves to be rather personal than for the good of the Crown. She knows what to offer him, and what to ask for in exchange—a babe, half dragonblood and half witchling—but his mind is distant, always circling back to you. Alys’ proposal has lost its taste in your absence.

Even Alys senses it now, the dangerous edge in Aemond’s silence, a fury held too tightly under control. He burns with yearning for you, and the possibility of winning without you by his side has begun to feel hollow.

If only you would understand what he must do. If only you could see the truth of Alys’ hand in keeping Aegon on the throne. But you fail to give credit to what Aemond has had to sacrifice.

The hour is late, but when he turns the corner, Aegon is lounging idly, surrounded by his lackeys by one of the grand columns, an amused smile on his lips.

“Brother, why you look like a storm in chains,” Aegon says, stretching with that lazy indifference only he could manage. “And yet, I believe I am aware of the source of your… troubles.”

Aemond’s eyes narrow. “If you have something to say, then speak it.”

Aegon chuckles, barely perturbed. “Ah, but it is known! In a few hours, your dearest beloved is to wed, or so I hear, I never pay much mind to things of no import… To Ramsay Beesbury of all men, that honeyed sod.” He pauses, savouring the shift in Aemond’s expression. “Surely word must have reached you?”

There is a flash in Aemond’s eyes, one that shifts quickly from shock to a lethal rage. “No one informed me,” he says, his voice taut as a blade. “Who arranged this?”

Aegon only shrugs, entirely too amused. “By the gods, brother, how the fuck should I know? They did make their impending union known at my feast… how long ago was it now, a moon’s time? Well, until you whisked the lady away and bed her, but who am I to pass judgment?”

“Are they not still in the middle of their courtship? It is uncustomary to be wed with such haste—”

“If you ask me, it is about time that the lady wed! She is not growing younger in her years, and she cannot live the rest of her days as your chamberwhore.”

Aemond sees red, and rushes forward in a flash, slamming the King against the wall with a hand constricting his windpipe. “Gods—” Aegon wheezes. His lackeys immediately tense, but none of them possesses the mettle to lay a finger on the one-eyed Prince.

It takes Aemond only a heartbeat to make up his mind. He releases Aegon with a sharp shove, turns on his heel, and strides from the hall without another word, deaf to the empty threats that are hurled at his retreating figure. His steps grow faster, surer as he nears the courtyard. Fury roars within him, a sensation like dragonfire climbing his spine. Sunrise would soon encroach upon the Seven Kingdoms, and its arrival will not herald your being bound to another man, not if he has any say.

Outside, the sky is a gathering of clouds, low and grey against the breaking dawn, as if even the heavens brace for a storm. Vhagar waits, her massive form shifting in the courtyard shadows, her eyes bright with predatory instinct. Aemond mounts her with barely a breath, his mind fixed solely on one destination: Honeyholt, the seat of House Beesbury, the only place the wedding could be held. As Vhagar rises into the evening sky, he feels the wind pull fiercely at him, and he pushes forward with a singular, roaring intensity.

There will be no union between yourself and Beesbury.

A woman’s hands fasten your cloak, the pale blue silk colour of your House whispering as it settles against your form. Soon, it will be replaced by one of sable and yellow, to symbolise the House of your husband.

You have not slept all night, thoughts of Aemond swirling in your mind like a curse. You have known this would be difficult, but this was something you need to do, and the day is finally here. Your hands tremble only slightly as they lift to adjust your gown, the scent of fresh lilies filling the room as servants bustle in preparation.

In your mind, you still see him. And in your heart… you still love him, and perhaps you always will. But you have no recourse but to surrender yourself to your marriage, lest you wish to have any chance at happiness. It will be nigh impossible to find any peace of mind whilst in possession of the knowledge that Aemond shares his bed with the witch, who will soon be granted the honour of carrying his babe.

You recall the way he held you as though you belonged to him, as though he could bend your very will. Your breath catches at the memory of how his voice trembled, the barely restrained desire that drove him to bind you closer, never allowing you to slip from his grasp. But you cannot let yourself drown in yearning. Not now. You steel yourself, forcing your thoughts back to the present.

“It is time, my Lady,” one of your handmaidens says gently, watching you with quiet sympathy. You feel the weight of your choice settle upon you, solid and unyielding. It is time to move forward, to leave that chapter of your life behind. Your hands rest against your wedding gown as you straighten, breathing in the finality of it all.

And breathing his memory out.

Dawn has crept over the landscape, a pale light spilling over the stone walls and casting the ceremony in a shivering, spectral haze. The air is heavy with expectation, the kind that tenses every muscle, as if the entire world holds its breath. You feel it, deep within you—the stupid urge to run, to look over your shoulder, to see if he’s coming.

It is a senseless thought, to wish for Aemond to come, when you purposefully made arrangements so that he would be unable to. So you force yourself to carry on, your resolve unbroken.

Ramsay Beesbury waits at the altar, the only other soul bound to this day, and you let yourself drift into the ceremony, the Septon’s words washing over you in a haze. You remind yourself to let go of the past; you cannot wait for a man who sees you as something to own, to control.

Aemond might have sullied the love you once shared, a bond that grew and blossomed through the years—one you once believed unbreakable.

But everything breaks. Men, kingdoms, dragons.

Even love.

The courtyard is swathed in the sun's early rays. Shadows give way to hazy beams, and as the morning stirs, so does the assembly gathered for the ceremony. The bride stands at the altar, hands clasped tightly as the Septon’s voice resonates through the stillness, weighted with tradition.

“…to honour and cherish, in this life and beyond,” the Septon intones, his voice a steady murmur, melding with the faint rustling of the wind and whispers from the onlookers. Your gaze drifts briefly over the scene, lingering on familiar faces, as you try to anchor yourself in the reality of the moment. Your heart thrums heavily, and your mind threatens to veer right back to Aemond—you can almost hear his voice, and envision how livid he would be when he finds out about your union.

He may burn the Seven Kingdoms to ash. That is, if he would not be occupied with his precious Alys.

High above the clouds, Aemond rides Vhagar, her wings slicing through the clouds with adept ease. The wind howls in his ears, the icy chill biting at his skin, but he urges Vhagar on. The pit of dread in his stomach grows with each passing second. He is running out of time.

“Naejot!” he yells a command. Faster.

The expanse of Westeros stretches beneath him, a blur of green and grey, but all he sees is his destination—Honeyholt, the place that holds you. His hands grip the rein tightly, and he presses closer to Vhagar’s scales, his mind brimming with the only thought that matters: You are his, and his only.

The ceremony progresses, and you can barely register Ramsay’s vows, the words floating in and out of your consciousness like half-heard whispers. His voice is steady, measured. His hands clasp yours gently, as gentle as the smile that graces his lips.

“Our marriage will be one of devotion and serenity. You will want for nothing nor will our children,” he had promised. A far cry from Aemond’s proposition that you can be with him so long as he fathers the bastard of a bastard.

To an outsider, it would have been the easiest choice.

“...to protect and honour, as the gods are my witness,” Ramsay declares, his words certain. His grip on your hands tightens as he speaks, binding them together. After a moment, you hear your own name called, and the vows spill from your lips without a thought.

The sun is now just a speck on the horizon as Aemond approaches Honeyholt. The great stone walls stand tall, silent and stark against the grey morning, but no sounds of gathering reach his ears. He circles once overhead, Vhagar’s immense wings casting a shadow over the land below, and he focuses his gaze, searching, hunting. The courtyard is empty, not a soul to be seen.

A sliver of uncertainty gnaws at him, yet he descends. The ground trembles as Vhagar lands, her powerful body settling on the stones, but as Aemond dismounts, there is no sign of you, no sign of anyone at all save for a few servants tending to the grounds.

“Where is she?” he spits, his voice a thick growl that pierces through the silence.

As the ceremony nears its end, the tension in your heart becomes lighter. Your gaze lifts, distracted by a shadow that drifted in the periphery. You stand frozen, until you realise that it was but a mere raven.

The largest dragon in all of the land is not present in the Riverlands.

“I take this vow willingly…” you murmur the end of your vows, your voice quiet, and soon it is over.

Back at Honeyholt, Aemond’s hands curl into fists as he prowls through the empty courtyard. He has grown frantic, but there is nothing here—no preparations, no guests, no fucking bride. A cold, bitter truth settles over him, tightening his throat, and he mutters in a dark, furious whisper, “No. This can’t be.”

It comes to him in a flash of painful clarity, the realisation that you’re not here, that he’s been chasing shadows. The Riverlands. You’re in your castle in the Riverlands.

It betrays Westerosi custom, to have the union in the territorial land of the Lady’s House and not the Lord’s, but it can be done. And the marriage can still be accepted.

But how insolent… how precisely aimed to injure him… to shame him…

You knew this would happen.

“You planned this,” he breathes, his voice laced with anger and something dangerously close to despair. He feels both empty and full of rage, and the pain of your loss nearly brings him to his knees. His jaw is set, his gaze set with a darkness that would terrify anyone who saw it.

In Castle Darry in the Riverlands, the ceremony culminates in the final exchanges whispered between the bride and her groom, and in your cloak being replaced with one of House Beesbury. You take one last breath, a silent farewell to the life you are leaving behind, as your new life, your new future, binds you to Ramsay, your Lord husband.

It is strange, but you feel a peace settle over you. Aemond’s hold over you is no more. And for the first time, you realise that perhaps you are free.

taglist (let me know in the comments if you wish to be added): @immyowndefender @aemondswifeisme @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstorms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ananas26t @iloveallmyboys @carriellie @summerposie @verycollectivecreator @toodlesxcuddles @brie-annwyl @dc-marvel-girl96 @bellstwd @bibli0thecary @happinessinthebeing @magnificentsapphiresoul @rorawinters @targaryen-madness @hanula18 @rhaenattargaryen @an0ther-us3r @sugurubabe @theshatteredideal @let-love-bleeds-red @s-we-e-t-t-ea @mydemimonde @the-intjs-dark-academic @heavenly1927 @anehkael @minttea07 @barnes70stark @cheneyq @cloudroomblog @neptuneiris @zaldritzosrose @oh-theseus

Some notes in the margins..

Well, our Lady is finally a Ladywife. And not Aemond's at that! But there is more to come as we near the end. Will Aemond abandon Alys? Will he steal his love away? Parts seven and eight will have the answers 💙

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

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flowerandblood · 5 months ago

Text

The Lost Haven (7/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, manipulation (partly unintentional), violent description of suicide attempt (blood), injection of a sleeping drug, violence, imprisoning, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

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

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He could have become a father.

Could was the key word in his life: he could do a lot of things theoretically, but for the most part the line between what was accessible to him and what was not was clearly drawn.

He couldn't escape the world that was consuming him.

He couldn't change who he was.

He couldn't marry his niece, at least in the light of social morality.

But he could become the father of her child because she hadn't taken the pill.

This news thrilled him so much that for a moment he forgot that his own father was dead.

And the complications that came with it.

Looking at his body in the morgue, he thought that perhaps a good thing had happened: Viserys looked sick and tired, his face expressing relief.

He was with his first wife now, the one he really loved, he thought with regret, and felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing his niece's face in his mind then, as she laid beneath him, panting loudly, seared, warm and wet only for him.

He grunted, shifting from foot to foot, recognising that he shouldn't be thinking about it right now.

Only Rhaenyra, Helaena and his mother wept over his body.

Neither he nor Aegon shed a single tear.

The next day he felt excited like a small child and terrified at the same time: it was the first time he was to see the University from the inside, to talk to the professor and on top of that, to see her, again.

If it worked out, they would study together.

Perhaps they would even go on excavations, just like when they were children.

Maybe there was some part of their lives that they could get back.

He texted her that he would come and was relieved when he spotted her silhouette waiting for him in the car park. As soon as he stepped out of the car he felt uncertainty and fear, wondering if this was a good idea.

What if his grandfather found out?

If he was putting her and himself in danger?

He involuntarily reached into the pocket of his jacket, wanting to soothe himself with a cigarette.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said, furrowing her brow, making his hand drop in a gesture of helplessness and impatience.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She sighed, ignoring his tone and demeanour, moving ahead.

He had to admit that the whole campus impressed him: the lawns and the huge park around which the gigantic nineteenth-century brick building towered were full of students sitting on the grass, reading books and talking to each other.

They had no worries except their exams, he thought regretfully, concluding that they didn't even know how lucky they were.

The conversation with the professor was overwhelming for him: he had never been able to find himself talking to strangers, even less so when he couldn't leave or defend himself when he heard a difficult question.

The man sitting in front of him was not a man transporting cocaine by ship, but an old man with big glasses who was telling him that if he were able to participate in the excavations, part-time studies would be possible for him.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." Said the professor and stood up, nodding, letting them know that their meeting was over.

"Is that it?" He asked in disbelief, looking at her with big eyes, wondering if it was a joke, but she only smiled.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

As they left, he felt discomfort at the thought that he didn't know how to act. He guessed that he had interrupted her class and should leave, but that meant there was no telling when he would see her again.

He wanted to simply spend some time with her, but he didn't know how.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He said offhandedly, glancing at the poster hanging on the wall right next to him, hiding his hands in his trousers so she wouldn't see them tremble.

She blinked and looked at him, surprised.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She muttered quietly, as if embarrassed. He felt an unpleasant sting of disappointment at her words and in a subconscious reflex he wanted to hurt her because of it, if only a little, to be sure she felt what he felt.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He asked with a sneer, glancing at her, but the smirk disappeared from his face when he noticed the way she looked at him.

She was angry and bored.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes." She said coldly, and he froze, thinking he was an awful person.

How could he forget about it, say something so ill-considered after what had happened to her?

He suddenly realised how it worked in his mind, how he reacted involuntarily to pain wanting to automatically cause it to another person, even if they didn't deserve it.

This thought terrified him.

Some part of him wanted to make it up to her, to prove that there was a part of him that wanted to change.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He asked, feigning indifference, involuntarily scratching his chin, unable to look her in the face.

"Larys Strong."

He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

He looked at her, feeling how slowly a picture that seemed to him to be just scattered shards suddenly came together, the fact that Larys had dragged her there was never supposed to be an accident, and his grandfather knew about it.

This is the last time you interfere in their affairs.

They hoped she'd call for Daemon.

That, knowing his explosive nature, there would be a shootout in which they would kill her step-father before Viserys died, so that he and his half-sister's businesses could then be easily taken over.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed out, feeling that he was breathing heavily through his mouth, that his hands were clenched into fists, that his heart was pounding like mad.

Only after a moment did he realise that his niece was looking at him with big eyes, horrified that what was happening in his mind had not escaped her attention.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said, making him feel a squeeze in his heart for some reason.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He mouthed, realising only after a moment that he sounded like a little boy. She shook her head, as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?"

He watched as she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, praying that she would agree, that she would not abandon him, that she would not leave him in the dark room that was his heart.

His little lamp.

Yes, he thought, feeling a pleasant, gentle warmth in his chest.

That's what she was to him.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She decided at last, distraught and tired, making him swallow loudly with relief as he looked down at her.

He wanted to touch her.

He wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, but it seemed inappropriate.

Not after what he'd done to her.

"Can I touch your hand?" He asked in a trembling voice, feeling like an idiot, a weak, quivering child begging for a moment's attention, a moment's tenderness.

She looked at him in a way from which his throat tightened with affection, her hand extended towards him made him grasp it in his own.

He watched, breathing hard, elated as his fingers entwined with hers in a pleasant, soft embrace, her skin warm, smooth and soft, exactly as he remembered it.

He felt both moved and aroused at the same time by this sight, by the feeling of her bare body in a way that was not purely sexual, yet so intimate, private, reserved only for someone close to her.

"Walk me out." He whispered.

To his delight, she didn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. He couldn't find the words to say goodbye or thank her for what she'd done, feeling only shame, so he just got in the car and drove away.

He knew it was wrong.

He knew it was wrong and he couldn't stop.

The forbidden fruit tempts most, he remembered her words and swallowed hard, driving ahead in silence, wondering if that was indeed all this was about.

The thought that maybe not terrified him, because it meant that there would be no moment in his life when he could let her go, allowing her to live at last.

It meant that he would devour her, choke her in his own darkness.

The next day, everyone was nervous: the meeting with the notary was going to be groundbreaking. Otto was certain that Viserys had divided his wealth equally between each of his children, which would mean that Rhaenyra's share would also belong to Daemon.

"I don't think he would leave his daughter the brothels or the clubs where the crimes took place to avoid burdening her. This means that a real estate company and our money laundering business could fall to her. We will have to make steps to take it over, peacefully or not." Said his grandfather when he spotted him standing by his car alone having a cigarette.

He nodded, feeling discomfort and uncertainty, not knowing what he should answer.

"You are not yourself since the death of your father. What's happening to you?" Otto asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, making him press his lips together in displeasure.

Another fucking interrogation?

"I'm tired." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette impatiently, looking at his family home, wondering if his father would take it away from his mother.

"Where were you the night he died? When Aegon woke up, you were not in the room."

He froze in mid-motion, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble, his heart and stomach clenched in fear.

He couldn't remember if he had ever felt peace.

Maybe then, that night, when he felt the warmth of her body and fell asleep beside her, drunk and happy, he thought with regret.

"With my niece."

Otto laughed low, shaking his head.

"This is no time for jokes, Aemond. I don't want you to hide anything from me." He said slowly and calmly, as if trying to explain something to a small child.

He looked at him in a way from which his grandfather's expression changed, twisting in a grimace of shock and disbelief.

"Good God. What did you do to her?" He mouthed.

He grinned involuntarily at his question in a way from which Otto swallowed hard and clenched his eyes.

"Have you completely lost your mind? What has that poor girl done to you, hm? What if she tells her parents, accuses you in front of everyone? For God's sake, you're her uncle." He hissed quietly, stepping close to him and looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear him.

For some reason his dismay, his disgust, his disappointment gave him satisfaction.

The fact that he was arousing such feelings in him and other people seemed to him the most natural state he knew.

"We were just talking. About the past and the future." He lied, knowing that his grandfather didn't believe him, that he'd seen in his gaze what he'd done to her, what he'd done to her twice, and how fucking pleasurable it had been for him.

He decided that he wouldn't try to explain to him that she had peaked with him each time.

He wouldn't believe him anyway.

"We'll talk later." He hissed as his mother, Helaena and Aegon came out of their house, saying they were ready.

When they arrived Daemon and Rhaenyra were already waiting for them inside in a large, spacious office with windows overlooking the great city skyline. The notary greeted them, offered them coffee and tea, and then showed them to their seats.

He tried not to look at Daemon, feeling his gaze on him, knowing what he thought of him and that he had every right to do so.

He felt bad about it, but fuck, he wanted to be close to her and have a family with her.

He wanted to be able to love her.

Just her, just this one time in his life.

Was he asking for so much?

The notary, in the presence of the lawyers of both parties, unsealed the envelope in which was secured his father's last will, which he knew he had consulted with his grandfather.

Nevertheless, he felt anxious, felt the cold sweat on his back, a complete, tense silence all around them.

And then he began to read.

"I, Viserys Targaryen, present my last will as follows. I bequeath our family home to my wife, Alicent Targaryen, which will belong to her until her death, and then pass according to her will to one of our children. I bequeath all my other estates and properties to my children Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron to be shared equally between them. All of my investments and all premises under my business that I owned I pass to my daughter, Rhaenyra."

He stared at him dully, feeling as if he had gone completely deaf, his heart beginning to pound like mad as his hand clenched into a fist, his grandfather beside him twisting in his chair, shocked.

"This is some kind of misunderstanding." Otto said, on the other side Daemon laughed out loud, hiding his face with his hands.

He mocked them, he thought.

His father had mocked them for the last time.

He didn't understand why he felt tears burning under his eyelids, why his lips were trembling, why he expected anything else.

His appreciation, his trust, a gesture that would indicate that he understood what he was doing to ensure the well-being of their family.

Did he really think that he was taking money out of people by force, that he was cutting their faces to please his grandfather?

Yet it meant nothing.

Everything he did, everything he became apparently only made his father disgusted.

Because he was disgusting.

They all were.

"Unbelievable. We're not going to leave it like that. I'm sure this is Daemon's doing. FUCK!" Growled his grandfather, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, slapping his palms against the dashboard of his car.

He drove ahead, feeling a complete emptiness, feeling neither disappointment nor anger, wondering if he should pull over and hit one of the trees.

He wanted his father to see him as a cold, unbreakable man, one who would always defend his and his family's interests, one who could make sacrifices.

And he didn't even notice it.

All the wicked things he did turned out to be worthless.

He destroyed himself for nothing.

He had nothing.

In his mind, in his heart, in his wallet.

A fucking property by the sea.

"We will attack their family. If our clients find out, no one in the industry will care about us. We have to show strength, we have to act." Otto said, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

We will attack their family.

We have to act.

His grandfather called a meeting in his office, which was to be attended by him, his brother and his mother. He paced around the room gesticulating, speaking quickly, Aegon as well as his mother sat in their seats flooded with tears.

He thought they looked pathetic.

"We need to give him a warning. Force him to come out with another, more acceptable offer for us." Said Otto, circling the room with his hands placed on his hips, analysing everything.

"You saw him. He laughed. He knows that he won." Mumbled Aegon, all swollen from crying.

Otto stopped and pressed his lips together.

"Leave me and Aemond alone." He said finally, making him freeze, his heart pounding like crazy.

Some premonition told him what he would want from him even before it left his mouth.

He was not mistaken, and as soon as his mother and brother left, his grandfather began to speak.

"Does Rhaenyra's daughter trust you?"

He stared dully ahead, answering him with a protracted, uncomfortable silence, feeling like throwing up for some reason.

"Aemond."

"No."

"No, what?"

"Don't drag her into this."

His grandfather pressed his lips together, leaning over him, resting his hands on his armrests.

"She's been dragged into this for a long time. If we don't take our chances, someone else will." He said calmly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.

"You knew."

"What?"

"That Larys had plans for her."

"I knew that he would act. Daemon's presence on the scene isn't to his liking."

"He put a fucking rape pill into her drink." He said coldly, clenching his hands into fists.

"It wasn't about rape there, at least that's my opinion. However, now, if he sends his people to her University, I cannot vouch for what will happen to her. With us she will be safe. We would lock her in a room in our house for a few days and treat her with respect as if she were our guest. My issue is with Daemon and Rhaenyra, not with her. Her harm is not my desire."

He looked at him, feeling a void in his mind, no longer knowing for himself what he thought of this, what was right and what was not.

"Are you going to let everything you've worked so hard for be taken away from you? For this man to laugh in our faces? What are we to use to maintain the estates your father left you? Even if we sell some of it, how many years will it last? We have to think about our future. I trust you to do the right thing."

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, thinking with disbelief that if he didn't, the part of himself that he had lost, that he had killed to become who he was, would turn out to be a sacrifice in vain.

Some part of him naively wanted to believe that she would understand.

"Only me and Helaena will have access to her room. I will be by her side the entire time, and my duties for that period will be taken over by someone else."

Otto smiled in a way from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy."

He looked at his phone, at the message he'd sent her while sitting in his car two streets from her house, wondering how he could be doing this to her.

She wanted to help him change, she made an attempt.

Perhaps she was pregnant.

Hundreds of feelings mixed in his head, fear, grief, disgust, sadness, hatred and despair devoured him from the inside, forming one black mass from his thoughts.

She's not coming, he thought with a strange calmness.

She was not naive.

Daemon had certainly warned her not to trust them.

He'll return home and tell his grandfather that it just didn't work out.

But what will happen to them then?

They will have nothing to buy new goods with, or they will buy them, but they will have to raise their prices.

They will stop being competitive in the business.

They will lose customers.

They will go out of the game.

They will cease to count.

They will have no way to pay the police.

They will go to prison.

He shuddered, hearing rustling and someone's footsteps, his eyes big when he saw her breathless, flushed figure, her dark, loose hair in disarray.

She looked so beautiful.

He opened the door, unable to believe that she'd run away for him, just for him, watching as she pulled her backpack down quickly and handed it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but he only looked at her lips, parted in accelerated breath, soft and full.

He thought with horror that he wanted to feel her.

He wanted to be reassured.

He wanted to make love to her.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

Her gaze full of warmth, affection and trust, her parted lips, her hand that allowed him to pull her closer made him feel like his cock would explode with desire.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He praised her when she sat on his lap at last, closing the door behind her. He slided his hands to his belt, panting hard, releasing his fat, long erection, leaking with desire at the mere sight of her.

He could only watch in disbelief as she took off her shorts, wordlessly allowing her to guide the thick, glistening head of his manhood against her slit, all pulsing with heat, slowly sinking it into her body.

He gasped at the ease with which she welcomed him into her warm, moist interior, how simple and proper it seemed.

It made him forget for a moment who he was and what he was supposed to do.

All that mattered was her, her face, her eyes, her forehead pressed against his, her warm buttocks under his fingers, her swollen, sweet lips, her slick tongue invading between his teeth, her little cunt that convulsed around his throbbing cock in ecstasy.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, unable to express otherwise how good she made him feel, why his hips were pounding into her so fast and so greedily, why he couldn't slow down, why he wanted it so desperately.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, making him gasp, pleasant, tickling warmth in his lower abdomen.

Her soaked pussy squeezed and sucked him inside, making him pant loudly into her puffy lips, feeling his whole body grow hot, in some subconscious, natural reflex returning to where he felt good, where he felt safe: back deep, deep inside her.

He knew it wasn't just about sex: there was too much tenderness in in their movements, the touch of their hands too thoughtful and too gentle, too soft, their embrace too close, too intimate, their moans too helpless, too vulnerable.

"– Aemond –" She mewled into his throat on the brink of orgasm, bringing her clenching, moist, fleshy walls to the point where he felt a squeeze in his testicles, indicating that he was close too.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, listening to what he was doing to her, to his own niece, how loudly her sweet, little cunt clicked as he rooted into her again and again, how perfect she squeezed his cock, how warm she was, how wet she was, for him, only for him.

"– where? –" He muttered, wanting to be more responsible this time, slamming into her with a quick, sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, helplessly chasing his own fulfillment that he so desperately needed.

He didn't want to hurt her.

Never.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She breathed out and something in her words, in the way she said them made his body quiver as he reached his peak inside her, panting hard along with her. He gasped, resting his head against the backrest, trying to be quiet, feeling their bodies pulsate and shiver against each other.

He snuggled her face to his neck, feeling a wonderful pleasure and relief as his warm seed filled her insides at last, her scent, her closeness, her hot, pulsing interior calming him.

It felt so good.

So right.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, stroking her bare buttock with one hand, sliding the other between the seat and the gearbox, feeling the needle syringe under his fingers, from which he slipped the cap.

I'm sorry.

He heard her draw in a loud breath at his words, but he didn't let her answer.

He was afraid he would change his mind then.

"– forgive me –" He mumbled in trembling voice, heartbroken, her body tensed all over as he jabbed the needle into her neck and let the sleeping drug spread through her insides.

She whined quietly, terrified and surprised, reminding him of a small, innocent animal. He embraced her, feeling the remedy take effect after a moment, and her body relaxed in his embrace, a faint, weak cry escaping from her lips.

I'm sorry.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl –" He hushed her tenderly, feeling his whole body tremble as tears of shame, disgust and regret ran down his cheeks along with the knowledge of what he had just done to her, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

He used her because she trusted him, because she wanted to help him, because she really cared about him.

He sobbed quietly, closing his eyes, and cuddled his face against her neck, feeling her fall asleep, thinking that he wanted to take it back, that it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, that he just wanted her to forgive him.

Maybe he could carry her home?

Leave her at the gate and run away?

But what if someone found her unconscious, what if she fell ill from the cold, what if someone abused her in his absence, hurt her?

He realised that there was no way back.

Despite this realisation, he treated her body with gentleness and tenderness: he lifted her and slid out of her slowly, placing her shorts over her hips, laying her on the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. He took the unruly strands of hair from her face with his trembling hand, looking at her through tears, whooping with his own cry.

He thought she would never forgive him for this.

When he got home he went inside through the back door, carrying her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He told his bodyguards that no one was to disturb him, ordering them to inform his grandfather that everything was sorted out.

"Aemond?" He heard his mother's voice behind him and stopped in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder with big eyes.

His mother was looking at him with her mouth open, disbelief and horror in her gaze.

"– Aemond – what is she doing here? –" She muttered, placing her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down, breathing loudly as if she were going into some kind of panic attack.

"– we'll sort it out, Mum – don't worry –" He whispered. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– you kidnapped an innocent child –" She said with regret and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

She was disgusted with him.

He understood her.

He longed for her to think of him like that.

He desired to suffer.

"– yes –"

He took her to the room where he had spent his entire youth until he moved into his flat and laid her gently on his bed, sitting down beside her, covering her carefully with the duvet. His hand rose slowly and hesitantly to finally stroke her soft hair, her face calm, immersed in deep sleep.

Vhagar, whom he had taken with him from his place, rose from the floor and ran up to them, sniffing him and the newcomer he had laid in his bed.

"– good girl – you will watch over her with me now, hm? –" He asked, stroking her soft fur.

Vhagar squealed, shifting from paw to paw beside him, concerned, as if she sensed that her sleeping state was not natural, something in her scent, in the drug he had given her made his dog restless.

Even she knew what he had done to her, he thought with regret.

He pulled off his shoes and placed them on the ground, laying down beside his niece, putting his arm around her. He pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply her scent, letting his fingers run over the soft skin of her cheek, thinking that he was surely doing this for the last time in his life.

He felt a sting in his heart at that thought, his eyebrows arched in pain as he pressed her body against his, weaving his hand into her hair, burying her head in his neck, trying to calm himself.

"– I will always watch over you –"

In the morning he was awakened by her babbling: she was mumbling something under her breath, her hand clenched on the material of his black Tshirt, he could feel her trying to stand.

"– shhh – lie down – don't get up –" He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling only horror, only despair, only shame.

She would never forgive him for this.

"– where – mghmm –" She muttered, involuntarily falling into his arms again, recognising him and his scent, her fingers closed on his back, snuggling into him in a tender embrace from which he felt his body begin to quiver.

"– easy – easy, little one –" He said, kissing the top of her head again and again, her hair wonderfully soft and smooth under his hand.

"– what's happened? –" She asked, and he remained silent, as he had no idea what to answer her.

His lack of words clearly worried her, for she raised herself on her arm again: she looked around, her gaze hazy, dreamy, her brow furrowed as she did not recognise where she was.

"– Aemond – what's going on? –" She asked wearily, slowly understanding that something was wrong, her breathing louder and heavier, her eyes large and filled with fear.

He lifted himself onto his arm, moving closer to her, his free hand stroking her cheek as he pressed his forehead to her temple.

"– forgive me –" He whispered in a weak, trembling voice, thinking he sounded pathetic.

She sucked in a deep breath and squealed, covering her mouth with her hand as if trying to stop the sound, her eyelids clenched shut as she cried out loud, bursting into tears.

"– oh, baby –" He muttered pleadingly, kissing her red, plump cheek, embracing her tightly despite her hands trying to push him away. "– it will only last a few days, I promise –"

She pulled out of his embrace, moving away to the other end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes, catching her head with her hands as if she couldn't believe what was happening, her mouth parted wide in a heavy, terrified breath.

"– I – I let you – you touched me, and then you – oh God – oh my God, no no no no no no –" She whimpered hiding her head between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to create a fortress, and he could only sit and watch, trying to remember that he needed to breathe.

"– we just need to talk to Daemon – I promise no one will hurt you –" He muttered quickly, but it seemed to him that she wasn't listening to him, plunged into complete hysteria.

"– I helped you – I ran away for you – I brought you books just as you asked – so why did you do this to me? –" She mumbled out, choking on her own tears, her fingers clenched on her hair as if she wanted to rip it out.

He felt like he was drowning, like he was sinking deeper and deeper to the depths with every breath.

"– I know – I know, baby, I'm so sorry – but my father left us no choice – fuck, I know you understand me –" He choked out with difficulty, looking at her hopefully, for some reason naively believing that she would find justification in her heart for his horrible act.

She, however, looked at him dully and froze, her trembling hands raised at the level of her cheeks, her lips parted in a half-breath.

He was sure that she was going to say something, that she was going to shout in his face that she hated him, that he was a monster, a nobody, a disgusting creature, everything that he so needed to hear in order to find himself in the state to which he always returned in the end.

She, however, turned her back to him, hugging her body and face to the wall, tucking her legs under her chin and froze so still.

"– Rhaenys? – please – please, say something – I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear –" He mumbled, trying to touch her calf, but she flinched and moved further away from him, as if his touch had burned her.

He burst into sobs, thinking that her silence, her wordless rejection was worse than any word from her, and he was like a child who longed for the parent he had failed to look at him with a sympathetic eye again.

"– please – please, say something –"

But she said nothing.

For the next few days she did not look at him, she did not answer his questions, and when he tried to touch her she moved as far away as possible, hiding her head between her knees.

He took away her phone out of fear that she would try to contact someone and all the things out of his room that she could use to hurt herself or others.

She ate and drank only the things Helaena brought her.

When he tried to feed her, she would snatch things from his hand and throw them at the wall.

On the one hand he felt rage at that moment, a subconscious need to hurt and punish her, and on the other he felt relieved because he wanted to suffer, because he knew he deserved it.

"– you have to eat –" He sighed, looking indifferently at the big stain of soup on the wall and the shards of the broken bowl thinking it was them.

Like the shards that couldn't be put back together again.

"– what did it feel like, cutting their faces? – did you feel like the Mighty Vhagar then? –"

Her voice, cold and harsh surprised him and made his heart stand in his throat, his body stop breathing for a moment, as if expressing its desire to die of shame.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling that he was trembling, and met her gaze, sad, tired, aloof, embittered.

"– I had no choice –"

Lie.

"– you are lying –" She stated dispassionately. "– I don't want to see or hear you – I want you to pretend that you don't exist, just like you did with me for eight years – you're good at it –"

He lowered his gaze, feeling a complete void in his mind at her words, and got out of bed, kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl as if nothing had happened.

The only being she touched was Vhagar.

He watched from the sidelines as these two slowly established a relationship with each other. His niece would reach out to her, lying on his bed, and his dog would lean out and sniff her from afar without touching her, looking at her with big eyes.

Vhagar did not like strangers and was fussy, but apparently her calm approach and the fact that she did not impose herself on her made his dog express interest in her. When she would get up to reach for one of his books on the shelf, Vhagar would rise and follow her, keeping an appropriate distance, looking at her curiously.

She would lie down in her place only when his niece sat back down on the bed.

He first saw them lying together when he came home late one evening. He had shopped for her, bought her favourite sweets knowing that she would not eat them anyway, and when he walked into the room he saw her lying with Vhagar on her dog bed.

She was crying and cuddling into her fur as if she was a big teddy bear, and his dog, despite the fact that she usually got up at the sight of him, just looked at him with big eyes, not moving from her place.

Something about the sight broke him, and although he knelt down next to his niece and wanted to touch her back, he stopped mid-motion when he heard his dog growl at him for the first time in his life.

She knew.

Daemon and Rhaenyra's fury was great: the very next morning after it turned out that she had disappeared there had been an incident at one of their clubs, where his sister's husband had stormed in with her son and several men, threatening to shoot everyone present if he did not find out where his daughter was.

As planned, it was relayed to him that their child was safe and that Otto was waiting for contact from him when he had cooled down to discuss everything calmly.

As proof that they were not lying, they gave him her backpack – the same one in which she had brought him books.

Due to what happened, after his father's body was burned, there was only a short funeral ceremony in the cemetery, attended only by his mother and sister: his grandfather was afraid that Daemon's men, who had been watching them all the time, would lead to a shooting if they appeared there even for a moment.

Despite his niece's reluctance, he spent his days in her presence, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the room where he slept at night. He knew she didn't want to feel him next to her, but he preferred not to leave her alone knowing how frightened she was.

He suggested several times that they could go out together for a walk in the garden, but she didn't even look at him.

She was simultaneously closer and further away from him than ever before.

One night he was roused from sleep by someone's scream: he pulled himself up on the mattress, involuntarily reaching for the penknife in his sweatpants and looked around the room, only after a moment noticing her shivering figure sitting on his bed.

He sighed quietly and swallowed hard, trying to calm himself.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" He whispered, and she twitched at his words, turning towards him, looking at him with big eyes, all drenched in tears.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He muttered, but she answered nothing, her lips parted in a heavy breath, her fingers clenched on the sheets.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered, rising slowly from his seat, tentatively approaching the bed. She raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture and moved away a little, but when he sat down next to her and raised his arm she didn't push him away.

Slowly he placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin reassuringly, with the other cuddling her face into his neck.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –"

She was silent, and he prayed that this moment, her warm body in his embrace, his nose snuggled into her soft, fragrant hair, would last forever.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out finally, startling him, his stomach knotted tight in discomfort and horror.

"– no – don't say that – it won't take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, forcing himself to be calm, stroking her shoulder and back with one hand, the other combing his fingers through her hair, rocking her in his arms like a small child.

"– you broke my heart –"

Her words, the way she said them, what they meant made him gasp aloud, trying not to burst into a sudden sob of despair and grief.

He had broken her.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, tentatively kissing her warm temple, her cheekbone, her ear, everything that was familiar to him, beloved to him, his.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

"– I don't believe you –"

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, feeling a sort of high-pitched, trembling squeal come from his throat as if he were a little girl, tears one by one began to run down his cheeks to the top of her head, his fingers tightening on her delicate flesh.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, sinking his face into her soft, warm cheek, feeling that he was not the only one who was crying.

Her body trembled in the embrace of his arms, her small hands clenched on his shirt in a gesture that testified at once to her anger and her suffering from which his heart was breaking.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She howled into the skin of his neck, and he burst out sobbing at her words, not knowing how he could react differently to what she had said.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, cuddling her tightly into him, placing loud, wet, hot kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck, her arms, leaving sticky, wet marks on it.

He heard her sigh full of pain and pleasure, feeling with shame that his erection swelled all over and hardened, pulsing painfully under the material of his sweatpants, betraying how much he longed for her, how much he yearned for her.

Her quiet moan surged through the skin of his neck as his broad hand slipped lower, sliding tentatively under the material of her shirt, touching her naked back at last, her bare skin, making them both tremble, breathing heavier and louder.

"– I love you –" He assured her, running his fingertips over the wonderfully smooth skin of her back, making goosebumps appear in the places he ran his fingers over. Her body snuggled into him tighter, allowing him to feel her breasts hidden under her tshirt against his chest.

"– you hurt me –" She sobbed through her tears in a breaking voice, at which his lips clung even harder to her shoulder, his kisses even more greedy and wet as his lips again and again brushed and teased the delicate structure of her skin.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, feeling lust and desire pulsing through every nook and cranny of his body, filling his lower abdomen with a pleasurable, tickling tension from which his heart pounded like mad.

He moaned helplessly when he finally felt her warm, puffy lips brush his neck, her cheeks wet from tears as his hand pressed her closer.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He mumbled out, wanting only to feel her again, without her being just an empty part of an incomplete whole.

However, as his hand tentatively slid from her back to her buttock, she pulled away from him suddenly as if burned, hugging her back to the wall and shook her head.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out loudly, looking at him with big, terrified eyes. He shook his head, heartbroken, leaning down, placing quick, warm kisses on her bare knee, stroking her calf with his palm.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She blurted out, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly. He swallowed hard and shook his head again, shocked, understanding how far her lack of trust went and who she now saw him as.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like his whole face had swollen from tears.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out and turned her back to him, hugging herself to the wall again exactly as she did then, the first time, making him whimper, choking on his own tears. He pressed his face against her back, wailing loudly, his fingers clenched on her waist.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined like an animal into her shirt and heard her weep loudly, but she answered him nothing.

However, she did not push him away or tell him to step back, so he fell asleep cuddled into her body, and the next day she again did not speak to him or look at him as if this conversation had never happened.

In her presence he cried all the time and didn't even hide it anymore.

Looking at her, he saw exactly as if in the reflection of a mirror who he had become and what he had sacrificed.

However, it turned out that his grandfather was partly right in his assumptions: Daemon just wanted to kill them all, but his wife didn't feel like risking her daughter's life for a fortune and was willing to talk to them if they let her see her.

"– tomorrow you will go with us to meet your parents – perhaps we will come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, swallowing hard, standing over her small figure sitting on the sill of his window, looking out at the setting sun.

Her profile was gentle and pleasant, her eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes large and bright, her lips seemed wonderfully soft, full and sweet, made only to be caressed.

She closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, and did not even bestow a single glance on him.

He prepared himself for the fact that she would answer him nothing and wanted to sit down on the mattress, going back to reading one of the textbooks she had brought him, but he froze when he heard her voice.

"I'd like to take a bath." She said.

He swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Of course. I'll call Helaena." He replied, wanting to go out into the corridor.

They never left her alone.

For her own safety.

"No." She said and looked at him.

"I want ten minutes alone."

He looked at her, feeling anxiety and doubt in his heart, but he couldn't say no to her.

"Very well. I'll wait by the door."

She nodded and stood up, taking the towel that belonged to her from the chair and went outside. He followed her, walking towards the bathroom next to his room – she looked at him with frustration as he took the key out of the lock and shook his head.

"No. I won't come inside, but I won't let you lock yourself in." He said. She swallowed hard and nodded, and he closed the door behind her.

He leaned against the stair railing, hearing the sound of pouring water, and looked at his watch, sighing heavily.

Ten minutes, no more.

He heard her step into the bath and closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps this was just another ordeal they had to wait through together.

He wanted to believe that she had seen his sadness, shame and remorse, that by his behaviour and calmness he had proved to her that he was capable of being different, for her, only for her.

However, ten minutes passed, then eleven, and she still did not come out of the water.

He didn't want to invade her privacy and make her uncomfortable, but he felt impatient and became concerned that he didn't hear any movement in the room. He walked closer and knocked, sighing heavily.

"– Rhaenys – time's up –" He said matter-of-factly. He pressed his lips together when he heard no sound on the other side and knocked a second time, louder this time.

"– Rhaenys – please –" He sighed, running his hand over his face, deciding that whether she wanted it or not, he had to do it.

"– I'm coming inside – cover yourself –" He said, grabbing the door handle and stepped into the room.

It seemed to him that what he saw before him was some kind of frame from a film, not reality: the snow-white tiles around her head and dark hair, her half-open eyelids and mouth, her hands lying on the edge of the tub, her slit wrists and the crimson water in which she lay, his sister's T-shirt on her body.

He looked down and saw a tiny blade from a bookbinding knife lying on the floor.

For a moment he just stared at it, afraid to move, thinking it wasn't really happening.

"– Rhaenys? –" He muttered, approaching her slowly, but she didn't even flinch, staring ahead as if she was thoughts somewhere far away.

"– Rhaenys, what have you done? –" He mumbled as if he was afraid that if he said the words too loudly they would turn out to be true, and yet it could not be true.

"– God, baby – oh my fucking God –" He whined, pulling her by the shoulders out of the water with a loud splash of red liquid that spilled out.

He sat down on the floor, placing her between his legs, letting her head and back rest against his chest, his fingers tightening on her wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"– baby, what have you done? – hm? – what have you done? –" He whispered to her ear in a trembling voice, kissing her soft, warm face, feeling the initial shock begin to be replaced by a growing panic and the realisation that this was really happening.

He began to breathe loudly, as he always did when he was terrified and when he needed help calling out to the only person he trusted.

"– MUM! – MUM, HELP ME! –" He shouted like a helpless, broken child and burst into tears, clasping his fingers tighter on her wrists, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"– oh God, oh God, oh, God, no, no no no, please, baby, please, please, don't leave me –" He whimpered, rocking her in his arms, cradling her to himself, again and again kissing her bare shoulder, her long neck, her sweet cheek.

He heard someone run up the stairs, the screams of his mother and sister at the sight they saw before their eyes made him look at them.

"– Mum –"

Even though he knew his grandfather would be furious, he and his mother called the ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, she provisionally bandaged her hands together with Helaena, as well as dressed her in a clean shirt and underwear.

He did not let her out of his arms for a second, and when the ambulance arrived he told his mother that he would go with her.

He looked at her as he sat in the car, feeling his hands were sticky with her blood, thinking it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

She just wanted to run away, she just wanted to go home, but she didn't know how.

He made her do this.

When they arrived at the hospital it turned out that her condition was critical: because of how little she had eaten she had become anaemic and needed a quick blood transfusion.

"– take mine –" He said without thinking, and when the doctor asked him what blood type he had, it turned out that he and she had the same.

He could have done something that mattered.

He could have saved her.

He held her hand, lying on the bed beside him, staring dully at the ceiling, the other clenched again and again on the soft ball as he watched his blood fill the plastic bag.

When the doctor came inside, he asked him about what he had been thinking about for a long time.

"– there's – there's a possibility she's pregnant – and –" He mumbled, not knowing how to put it into words. The man looked at him, surprised.

"– she's definitely not pregnant – the tests didn't show it –" The doctor replied, and he swallowed hard, feeling for some reason a great disappointment and sadness.

If he became the father of her child, he could be a part of her life.

He would have an excuse to talk to her, to see her.

He tightened his fingers around hers, stroking her soft skin with his thumb, trying not to cry, thinking he deserved it.

What child would want to be born into such a world?

When it was all over he informed the doctors who they should contact, giving them his half-sister's phone number. Before he left the room, he handed her back her phone and slipped a letter into her locker, which he wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper with a pen the nurse had lent him.

For his own conscience he waited in the distance, watching as Daemon's Mercedes pulled into the car park, he and Rhaenyra ran inside the building without noticing him. He sighed heavily and licked his lower lip, glancing at his phone, seeing twenty missed calls from his grandfather. He dialled his number and put the phone to his ear, feeling strangely calm and relaxed.

"She's alive?" He heard Otto's voice on the other end.

"Yes." He replied dispassionately.

"Thank God. Why didn't you call for me? You ruined everything. Our doctor would have taken care of it. You…" He continued, but he hung up, not feeling like listening to his smart-ass bullshit.

His mother picked him up from the hospital.

"How is she? Will she survive? Have you contacted Rhaenyra?" She asked quickly as they set off, afraid that anyone would notice them.

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, looking at the road with empty eyes.

"I gave her contact details to the hospital staff. They arrived, I saw it with my own eyes. She's safe now." He explained.

His mother breathed out loud, her big brown eyes simultaneously terrified and full of relief.

"You did the right thing, Aemond. No money is worth it. This poor girl." She muttered, shaking her head, trying not to cry and concentrate on driving.

"I destroyed her."

Alicent looked at him, then back at the road, her mouth open slightly in an accelerated breath.

"What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his brow arch in pain and shame.

"I went to her room the night my father died. We had sex, Mum." He muttered in a breaking voice, covering his face with his hand and burst out crying like a little boy.

His mother sighed loudly, shocked, twisting restlessly in her seat.

"– but – why – did she – did she want this? –" She asked in a trembling voice full of terror, indicating that she really believed he might have raped her.

He was not surprised.

"– yes – but I don't think that makes it look any better –" He mumbled, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, leaning his head forward.

"– we did it twice – and then a third time before I –" He didn't finish and cried out loudly, making his mother breathe heavily as if she was in the same state as him.

"– oh my God – oh my God, Aemond, what have you done – she's your niece –" She choked out finally.

"– I know, Mum –" He mumbled, running his fingers over his face, thinking he already understood where her desire to end her life and this perpetual sense of unfulfillment and emptiness came from.

"– me too – I'm no saint either –" She muttered finally, looking up at him with big eyes. "– me and Criston –"

He swallowed hard and shook his head, recognising that it wasn't the same.

"– I know, Mum – you won't hear a word of condemnation from me –"

His mother drew a loud breath and wept, as if she felt both relieved and sad at the same time.

"– nor will you hear them from me, son – since you both wanted it, it was simply a mistake of youth – you are both lost and have sought comfort – but it must not happen again – do you understand? – for your sake and hers –" She said with confidence and conviction that this was the best possible decision.

"– I keep thinking about her – since that holiday eight years ago – I've tried, but I can't stop –" He choked out at last, wiping his red cheek, feeling as if he were ten years old again, complaining to her that someone had beaten him up at school.

Alicent ran her hand over her face before placing her palm over his.

"– sometimes – sometimes we have to leave certain things to ourselves – the shameful desires of our hearts – and fulfil them when no one sees – do you understand? –" She asked in a trembling voice, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

"It is not love itself that is sin –" She said finally. "– but what we do with it."

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hisfavegiri · 7 months ago

Text

One Mistake - Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader.

Warning : typical inscet Targaryen, angst, mentions of an affair, harsh language, mention of blood, miscarriage.

You looked at your husband with the knife still at his neck, your tears flowing freely. You ignore the screams of your mother and sister asking you to stay away from Aemond, you are really angry now that Aemond has crossed the line.

"What are you waiting for? kill me now” you could see Aemond smile a little and it made your stomach turn, how could he be this calm when there was a knife at his neck?

"You think I can't do it, huh? You're wrong husband, I really can" once again you pressed the knife deep into his neck which you guaranteed might have hurt him because you could see the change in his expression a second ago.

You continued to stare at him sharply and angrily, but suddenly you dropped the knife in your hand. You may be angry and disappointed, but you still love him. he looked at you in shock and you ran out.

You ignored everyone's whispers and stares as you ran towards your chambers, you no longer cared what they said. As soon as you enter your chambers, you throw everything and scream.

You ignore the knock that comes from outside the door, you feel empty, you feel weak, your husband, the person you love has a child with someone else. A bastard, news that you can deny as strongly as possible, but it turns out that today the woman, Alys, brought their son and you saw him. A son that Aemond longed for was in her arms.

Suddenly your world was destroyed, the dreams you had created together with Aemond suddenly collapsed. You kept crying and screaming until your throat felt hoarse, You decided to stay in your chambers, you wouldn't come out to anyone. even your mother and your twin sister.

“My love? can you let me in?” You hear the soft voice of your mother who has been begging you to come in for three days, but you still hold on firmly and don't let her in.

you can hear her breath before she knocks again, “you should at least eat, I'm worried about your health love.” You remained silent, you hadn't even touched the food she brought you yesterday.

when night falls, your mother still continues to persuade you to open the door. This time she was accompanied by your sister, Haelena. “y/n.. please open the door, talk to me” but they noticed that your chambers door was no longer locked.

When they opened the door to your room, your mother screamed hysterically when she saw your current condition. You are lying on the floor with blood coming out from between your legs, there are also bloodstains on your mattress, there are visible tear marks on your cheeks and soft sobs are also coming out of your mouth.

"M- mother.. what happened?" that's all you can ask, Haelena ran out to call the Maester while your mother shouted for Aemond. You slowly closed your eyes making your mother panic even more and suddenly everything went dark.

You lie on the bed, your mother and sister always visit and even accompany you. It's been almost two days since you were unconscious after that incident, the incident where you lost your first child who you didn't even know was growing inside you.

When you find out that you have just had a miscarriage, you feel very useless, you feel broken, and feel empty. you blamed yourself until your mother told the Maester to give you medicine to help you sleep.

You growled as you felt extremely dizzy, you blinked your eyes and looked around you. until your eyes fell on Aemond who was standing near the fireplace, he looked at you with a blank but sharp gaze.

“What are you doing here? I don't want to meet you” you spat at him as he walk closer to your bed. You were shocked when you felt his big hands grip your cheeks roughly, you looked at him with tears in your eyes.

“because of you, I lost my child. because of your stupid and childish attitude, I lost my heir”

You looked at him in disbelief and anger, tears rolling down your cheeks now. You let go of his hand with all the strength you have, you're angry, you're furious. Not only does he blame you but he also doesn't realize that the reason they lost their child was because of him.

“my fault? you blame me?! Don't you think Aemond!? why am I like that? you cheated and got that whore pregnant! you have a child with someone else! and you can still blame this on me?! Are you crazy!?”

you screamed in his face, your breathing was very irregular because you were angry. your eyes are red from crying, you can't understand how he could blame you?

“What?! now you can't talk huh? what I said is a fact! You got her pregnant and hoped I would forgive you because I love you?!? I'm not that stupid! I'm not like Haelena when she found out Aegon had many children from his whore, I'M NOT LIKE HER!”

Aemond just remained silent and continued to stare at you, he had no intention of replying to you and you hated that. you turned your head around when you heard your mother's voice “what is this? y/n darling? why are you screaming? you must rest"

You looked at him and smiled a little, before finally taking the knife that was on the left side of Aemond's body. Aemond was shocked and you pushed his body, he fell unguarded.

"I'm sorry if I was never the best daughter for you mother, I will always love you" before your mother and Aemond could take the knife in your hand, you had already slashed your neck.

Aemond captured your body, you could hear your mother's voice calling all the guards to immediately bring in the Maester. Aemond looked at you in shock and fear, you smiled and gently stroked his cheek. "I hope you are happy Aem, sorry I couldn't be a good wife for you" then your eyes close and slowly your hand fell from his cheek.

“no, no, no! don't you dare close your eyes! y/n! Forgive me! y/n! please come back!” Aemond shouted while hugging your body which was starting to get cold, he cried and whispered sorry repeatedly in your ear. when the Maester came, he told you that you were gone. and that night was the night Aemond lost the only person who truly loved him, you.

tag list - @danytar @looneytun3s @hangmanscoming @yazzzmints @julessworldd @eratosmusings (italic means that i can’t tag you)

#hotd #hotd imagine #hotd aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd one shot #aegon ii targaryen #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond x you #prince aegon targaryen #aemond x oc #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #alicent hightower #haelena targaryen

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https-furina · 1 year ago

Text

✎ i wasn’t ready to say goodbye [various men - part two] ft. lyney, zhongli, childe, ayato, alhaitham, cyno & tighnari x fem!reader content: angst, heavy trigger warnings for death, blood, injuries, gore & murder, fontaine archon quest spoilers (lyney), hurt no comfort, suggestive for a moment (zhongli), sumeru archon quest spoilers (alhaitham), ooc ayato (i'm not confident with him, sorry) not proofread.

detective's notes. this is the second part to the 'i wasn't ready to say goodbye' series i've started following aly's request, which is part one and you can find it here.

lyney put a lot of trust and faith into you the moment you'd uttered precious sweet nothings to him and promises you swore you'd keep. the magician was hopeful that for once potentially things were going right, he was landing on his feet if it wasn't for the heavy, nagging feeling working for the fatui left on his shoulders. it suffocated him, no matter how many loving smiles you'd send his way. he could drown every moment in your familiar scent - his home, his four walls but it would never rid him of his actions.

even when he so blindly puts that trust and faith into the auspicious blond traveler travelling teyvat and bringing nothing but destruction in their wake.

a shaking gloved hand reaches out for your silhouette against the backdrop of crackling fires, embers rising into the deep night sky like fireflies. dilated lilac eyes search your facial expressions but they keep trailing that to that blade piercing through your abdomen, soaked in the precious liquid you need so desperately. he doesn't understand - he didn't do anything wrong. he'd followed every rule in the book, he'd been a good man, he swears! yet that look of fear on your face and the hatred in the traveler's eyes... he's lost. the traveler yanks their arm back, withdrawing their sword without another word. no explanation, nothing that could ease lyney's mind as he rushes forward to catch you in his arms, falling to the floor with you when your vision darkens. the loss of the blade in your wound results in a heavier blood loss, nothing is there to stagger the waterfall that leaks through your attire and lyney is desperately pressing his hands to your wound but to no avail. "y/n?" he murmurs, panicked and breathless as he hyperventilates and his eyes burn from tears. your eyelashes are fluttering, lips parted as shallow breaths escape you but no words come out. you do not respond, prompting lyney to continue begging you, "please, hold on, i'm sorry - i'm so sorry y/n-" he doesn't care to know where the traveler disappeared to. the fires roar louder in his ears, competing with the rush of blood that's sending him crazy. he can hear his own pulse thudding, heavy as he watches the light drain from your eyes. words are flurrying from his lips, his voice cracking as he wonders whether begging to the hydro archon will get him anywhere. but it doesn't when your tense shoulders fall limp, your head rolling to the side as one last breath intakes into your lungs. he promised you his work would never affect you. he promised the traveler his eternal loyalty and the concept that he was a good guy. he never lied but when he's sobbing into the crook of your neck, hugging your body close, he can't help but think his entire being was built on a web of tightly knit lies created by the fatui.

zhongli vowed that falling in love with a mortal would be unwise, he knew from the very start when amber eyes as warm as cor lapis landed on you from across the room. it was like there was a pull, a tug in your direction and the benevolent man had no choice but to approach - just like that you had the archon wrapped around your finger, not that you knew. he couldn't tell you, no, that would be even more unwise and he'd already made one grave mistake swallowing pretty moans when his lips pressed to yours in the dead of the night.

but if it had protected you from those who wanted his blood, who wanted him to hurt and his heart to ache, would it have been wise? for then, he would not have to relive this stabbing grief once more.

sal terrae remained one of his favourite spots of his country, with dazzling waterfalls and memoirs of the god of salt - a memory long drifting away - he could spend days here, camped out under a tree and listening to the calm that nature brings. but this is not the sal terrae he remembers, no. not the blood splattered on the dirt ground beneath you or the way there's a small, delicate red river trickling out of the corner of the mouth he'd kissed so many times before. he should have known not to trust the fatui the way he had whilst they were in liyue - specifically that damn ginger harbinger and the bank. he scowls, brows knitting together as he hesitantly takes a step forward. he considers whether you'll yell at him, scream and cry out in anger for his mistakes. after all, perhaps you would have not been pierced in the chest so brutally had he protected you and even more so, if he hadn't lied about his identity. you don't. you gasp out for breath, choking on blood as you cough it up. it dribbles down your chin, an horrific scene. he'd seen many in his thousands of years walking teyvat, he'd seen so much mortal blood it felt like water by this point but seeing your specific blood clawed at his heart. he wishes he could forget the vision, forget the way there are tears glittering as they spill down your cheeks. zhongli feels an immense amount of guilt and he knows the heavy weight of it will drag on his ankles for the rest of his existence. "z-zhongli?" you croak out, your vision blurring as you make out the tall man from where he stands. you reach out, your hand covered in your own blood from where you were just holding your chest. blood seeps through your clothing, the reality is starting to hit zhongli more. he approaches quicker, hands cupping your cheeks as his thumbs wipe your tears. he isn't sure how to comfort you - perhaps he can't. the adrenaline is fading, you're feeling the burn of your wound every time you gasp for breath. your lungs hurt, your head feels light. zhongli wraps an arm around your waist quickly when your knees give in, lowering you to the ground softly. he kneels at your side, swallowing the lump in his throat. "i'm... i'm sorry, my love..." he whispers, unsure if that's the apology he wants to drop right now. you're fading in and out of consciousness, your bloodied hand clutching at his coat as if he's the one who is going to fade away at any moment now. zhongli grimaces, the unfamiliar sting of tears in his eyes as he watches the way your chest doesn't rise again.

childe cherishes you to the point of possession. you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, he'll remind you at least once daily. if it doesn't come out of his mouth verbally, he'll show it in the form of actions, gifts, anything he can consider a love language - you have to convince him that killing people who look in your direction is not a love language.

his wealth brings unnecessary trouble as well as his association with the northland bank. there are many souls in liyue who would crave for an ounce of it, at any means possible.

he doesn't remember ever giving you a reason to leave the front door wide open - not that you need a reason but it's the peak of winter in liyue and you always complain at the thought of heat escaping through cracks in the window. upon closer inspection, the harbinger sees that the door handle is busted, hanging on by a limb. there's a sudden pang of anxiety in his chest, his gloved hand pushing the door wide open. childe is met with the sights of shattered glass and broken pottery, porcelain decorating wooden floorboards. there's a lump in his throat now, making it hard to breathe as he calls your name out and begins to frantically search your shared house. he can hear your whimpers, your soft begs to not hurt you as he approaches the kitchen. there's a bloodied kitchen knife on the floor beside you but his eyes land sooner on the puddle of deep red liquid staining your clothes and the floorboards beneath you. the blood is seeping from your neck, your voice strangled and gurgled when you cough up more blood onto the floor. your fearful eyes meet his blue ones and you choke out a sob. "c-childe- ajax.." you cry out any name you can but it's barely a whisper when you finally realise there's no one else here to attack you. his eyes are cold, his blood running even colder when he grips at the bow in his hands, his knuckles turning white and he swears he'll kill whoever did this to you. he swears that they'll feel his wraith, he'll spill their blood and he'll taint teyvat's ocean with it until they remember his archons forsaken name. when he doesn't respond to his name, you sob once more and he snaps to reality, dropping his bow as he kneels at your side. he peels his gloves off, his hands still warm as he clears your neck to look at your wound clearer. you wince, whimpering and whining at any form of contact as you grow fainter, hands weakly grabbing at childe's clothing. "i'll kill them, i swear baby - i'll make them pay, they'll regret ever coming near you-" childe's tone is sharp, stabbing the solemn air as you struggle to breathe, gasping for your final breaths. you can't even form the words to argue back against him, to tell him that killing people doesn't solve everything. that silence kills him. it sends him insane as he watches you helplessly die in front of him. he hyperventilates, brows knit together in frustration. you were supposed to argue back, tell him he's wrong. why didn't you? he shakes your shoulders gently but you're limp, unresponsive.

ayato is not a man of many words nor actions, you should have seen it coming the moment you married a socialiate, let alone the head of his clan. the man has an image to maintain and that is not limited to the likes of his wife either. you do not mind, heavily avoiding the limelight of inazuma's tabloids. ayato can do many things to protect you from scenarios like that as the commissioner of the yashiro commission.

he could not have foreseen enemy clans using you, his devoted wife against him and he could have not particularly predicated this scenario.

"who did this?" his words cut the silence, it's tense and heavy. all that resonates in the courtyard is your desperate gasps for breath, your brows knitted together as you try to recall anything about your attackers but nothing comes of it. there's no one but the two of you around, ayato had long sent everyone on a wild goose chase to find who did this to you. red soaks the white of his sleeves, hanging in the pool of blood you lay in. ayato lets out a shaking breath, there's a tight feeling in his chest. did he feel guilt? potentially. he trusted himself enough to protect you, he swore he'd never fail you. it seems he'd failed himself in that regard too. "i-i... love you..." you whisper shakily, weak and barely audible above the winds of inazuma that blow through the kamisato estate's courtyard. ayato grimaces, a cool hand cupping the soft skin of your cheek. shadowed eyes belonging to that of your beloved husband drink in the sights of your blemishes, your insecurities - the things that he has forever found beautiful. "yes... yes, i know, dear," he reassures softly, his voice cracking ever-so-slightly as he gives you a broken smile, "i love you too." you're beginning to fade out of consciousness, the blood loss taking you in its toll when your chest becomes heavy and you're struggling to find the strength to breathe. ayato coaxes you to keep going, to keep trying for him. just hold on a little longer, he promises, clasping your bloodied hands in his. he does not care for the liquid staining his clothing, it is yours and anything of yours is precious to him. but his reassurances and promises begin to fall on deaf ears when he is the only person left breathing in the courtyard of his home, his sacred sanctuary he swore would be safe for you. it's always been safe for him but as he cries out into the night, exposing his vulnerability in the moment of being alone, he wonders why it could have not been for you, truly.

alhaitham claims he has no reasoning for falling in love. he's a busy man, especially when he's thrust into the role of the acting grand safe following his expeditions helping the traveler free lesser lord kusanali. but between stacks of paperwork and arguing with one particular blond in the house of daena, turquoise eyes find you, another ordinary scholar of the akademiya. he swears he had no intentions of knowing you further than polite words shared as you pass each other in the halls.

is that why months later when he doesn't hear from you while you're out researching in the desert, he decides to go searching for you in a worry he'd never voice aloud?

thick, red liquid is binding the sand together under you, dripping from your open wound across your side. your attire is ripped, the wind occasionally blowing sharp granules of sand onto your exposed wound and causing you to yell out in pain. alhaitham is pale, his eyes wide. he should have trusted his gut sooner when you stopped writing back to him, keeping him updated on your adventures out in the desert. better yet, perhaps he should have just came with you in the first place. there are no polite words shared in the heavy atmosphere as you pant for breath. alhaitham is no better, struggling to breathe at the sight of one of the only people he'd allowed this close bleeding out in front of him. his eyes don't leave your wound, you're way too far from the bimarstan for him to get you help. you fall to your knees and alhaitham follows, his hands fumbling as he struggles to remove his cloak and wrap it around your shoulders. you're in the middle of the desert and yet you're drenched in a cold sweat, hugging his cloak around you tighter. you breathe in his familiar scent, it's warm and hugs you back. it's comforting when the wound burns harsher on your side. alhaitham should have known better than to let you venture into the desert alone, the guilt biting at him aggressively when he pulls you into his chest, burying his face into your hair. he drinks you in, feeling your shallow breaths against the shell of his ear. he listens helplessly as the seconds between your breaths become longer and they become quieter to the point he no longer feels them anymore. he refuses to pull away from you, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck as your skin turns cold beneath him. he's in denial, his breaths struggled when your arms fall from around him, limp. just a little longer... he'll wake up and you'll be in front of his desk once more, that wide smile almost rubbing off on him.

cyno warned you the moment you'd figured you had a chance at getting so close to the general mahamatra - he worked a dangerous job and not only that, he himself was a dangerous man. yet you were stubborn, initiating a conversation with him any chance you got. had he been on an expedition recently? did he have any criminal arrest stories to tell your curious mind? cyno could almost chuckle at how much his work did not seem to bother a citizen like you.

he should have held his breath as he ran from the akademiya to treasures street, having been told of a murder happening in broad daylight of sumeru's summer.

"what happened?" "oh archons.." "is she dead?" cyno scowls at all the voices, the questions, the intrusion of a victim's privacy as he pushes through the crowds of civilians. his brows are knit together, trying to comprehend the idea that someone would be brave enough to commit such a vile act in broad daylight like this. a matra tries to stop him, reassuring him the case is covered but cyno shakes his head, pushing further. ruby eyes fall to the body that lies on the ground, half covered by a white sheet. the pavement below is pooled in blood that seeps through the cracks and stains the cream colour of the tiles, soaking into the white sheet being used cover for privacy. he takes note of that familiar anklet around the victim's ankle and it feels as though his whole world just came crashing. "general mahamatra, sir?" the matra from before asks wearily, appearing beside him as cyno is yet to say anything. there's a lump in cyno's throat that won't budge even though he keeps swallowing, he tries to put it down to dehydration in the summer heat but he's never struggled before, "eremites, sir." cyno wanders to you slowly, catching sight of the way your familiar hair spills out from underneath the sheet. he was hoping that the anklet was just coincidence, it was a gift from him when he'd ventured to aaru village one day but that was most definitely your hair - it was definitely your hand that peeked from the cloth. he shakily reaches for it, attempting to keep his calm in front of so many eyes. the voices whisper, gasps and sorrowful when he kneels next to your body in a rigid silence, his knuckles white from his grip on your cold hand. he chews his tongue, hoping you'll wake up and scold him for having such a strong grip and not being more gentle but you don't budge. the sheet doesn't lift, the blood doesn't disappear as if it was a bad dream. he knew you'd be in danger at his side. he has enemies, many of them. ones he has never cared for before, never bothered to utter an ounce of consideration in their direction but the man was very much aware of their existence. you was a weak spot for him, a vulnerable moment with soft, shared kisses and gentle, lingering touches. he should have known. the guilt eats at him, it follows him to bed that night where the empty pillow beside him witnesses his pillow soak in salty tears.

tighnari was head over heels from the beginning. you'd finished your studies in the amurta darshan and had promptly beelined for the avidya forest to gandharva ville, much happier out in the nature than you had been cooped up in the house of daena. if anything, he also saw you as the most dedicated forest ranger in gandharva ville. he loved that particularly.

he related to your need to protect the avidya forest with your life, you was so passionate about it but he didn't expect you to physically use your life to protect it.

there was definitely something protruding from your chest, no amount of blinking was going to make it vanish now. tighnari's tail droops as he rushes to your side, sending one last arrow in the direction of a treasure hoarder, piercing him in the neck. you're alone now, left in a vulnerable state as tighnari eases you against the green grass you've valued more than your own life. "nari?" you ask softly, confused as to why those precious, fluffy ears were flattened against black hair the way that they were. tighnari assumed the adrenaline of battle hadn't fully worn off and you had caught a glimpse of the arrow buried into your heart, which was beginning to slow its pulse as it keeps your body going. blood oozes out of your ranger uniform, something you wore with the utmost pride. "i'm here, love," he chokes out, a sharp sensation stinging at emerald eyes as he pulls his gaze away from the arrow lodged in your chest to those eyes he treasured so much, "you know i love you - right? you'll always... be mine?" your brows knit together, eyes glancing over his face. why does he look so sad? the concept of him reminding you foxes mate for life was nothing new but he always seemed so joyous when he'd remind you - this was different. there's a stiff feeling in your chest and your eyes fall down to it, where tighnari's gloved hand is gently laid around an arrow pierced into your skin. he's not attempting to pull at it nor apply pressure, he is simply keeping his hand close to the thing that meant the most to him - your heart, specifically while it's still beating. "i love you too, nari." you finally realise what's happening, the corners of your vision going dark and hazy as you admire the fox male once more. he'll be the last thing you see, laying on the grass of your home, the avidya forest. he'll be your last comfort, the last thing you smell and touch. you know it was reckless to have put your life on the line in such a way but you would have done anything to protect the forest. tighnari lets out a wail into the calm of the avidya forest, praying that someone hears his cries of sorrow. your skin is cold to touch hours later but tighnari has not left your side, his tail curled around your body with only an emptiness left in his chest in your absence.

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