Bad Guy 1
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: The men your mother brings home rarely stick around, but her latest catch can't seem to unhook himself from your life.
Characters: Destroyer!Chris
Note: I'm going to a physio today for the first time.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
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I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
The house is quiet as you come out of your room. The single floor is just enough room for you and your mom. You’ve never needed much else and all your life, you’ve made do with what you have. It’s just the way it is.
You stretch your arms and arch your spine as you stop in the doorway of the kitchen. You yawn. You fell asleep reading outdated discussions about your most recent syndicated obsession. You should know better by now, that thorn in your neck is only driving deeper.
You bend at the elbows to rub your neck and drag your feet over the cold tile. Your nipple poke rigidly against your cropped tank top and goosebumps raze up your bare thighs. You open the fridge and pull out the bottle of orange juice, your panties riding up with your movement.
Before you can stand straight, a sharp strikes snaps against your ass and radiates through your flesh. You yipe and grip the bottle by the neck as you jump and turn to face the culprit. The strange man stares back, his brows twitching.
“Mm, you’re not Gail,” he mutters.
“No, I’m not,” you press the juice to your chest, overly aware of your barely covered body.
You don’t ask who he is. You stopped doing that in middle school. She’s another one of her ‘callers’. You don’t usually see them more than once, if at all. Most leave before you’re awake.
“Was takin’ a piss, heard you skittering around, thought...” he trails off into a shrug.
He’s shirtless too. He only wears a pair of briefs as he stands shameless before you. A dark tattoo covers half his chest and extends around his shoulder and down his arm. It’s the typical snake and skull aesthetic sported by men like him.
“Nope,” you reach for the fridge door and step to the side as you close it.
He doesn’t move. You go to dip around him and he moves with you.
“Taking all that with you?” He points at the bottle. You look down and sigh. You push it towards him. “Here.”
He puts his hand under it and you let go. You skirt around his other side and squeeze through the door behind him. You don’t look back as you flee to your room. You resist the urge to reach back and cover the bottom of your ass, not wanting to draw attention to it if he is watching.
You shut your bedroom door and cringe. Great. You can’t really complain. Your mother hasn’t kicked you out. Yet. Not like half your friends’ parents. She just asks for half the rent and you can manage that. With the rent around here, you’d be on the street otherwise.
You cross the room and flop on the bed. You pull out your phone and go back to scrolling the old discussion boards. It’s funny. The more recent posts are totally contrary to the ones when the show aired. You’re not sure who you agree with.
You roll onto your back and drop your phone to the mattress. You have to work at noon. So much for a relaxing morning. You’ll just be hiding in your room until that man leaves.
A knock jerks you up and you roll your eyes. You search the floor and pull on the wrinkly pajama bottoms. You go to the door and crack it open an inch. It’s him.
“Uh, hi?” You utter dully.
“Got you a glass,” he offers one of the cups in his hands. You squint at it then look him in the face.
“Thanks?” You go to take it but he doesn’t let go as you wrap your fingers around the cold glass.
“There a problem?” He asks.
“Uh, no,” you scrunch your nose. “I said thanks.”
“I don’t like your tone.”
You let go of the glass and retract your hand. His eyes flick down and yours do too. The white tank does little for your modesty. You cross your arms.
“Okay? Well, never mind,” you go to close the door and he steps forward, digging his elbow into the wood as he blocks you with his body.
“Your mom said you’re a nice girl,” he looks you up and down again. “Coulda fooled me walking around like that.”
You frown. It’s your house. Why should you worry about what you’re wearing? Besides, if you knew he was there, then you wouldn’t wander around in your panties.
“Thanks for the orange juice but you should just give it to my mom. That’s why you’re here,” you shrug.
He scoffs. “Got a smart mouth.”
“No, I—I didn’t do anything.”
“There you go again. Disrespectful.”
“Huh?” You shake your head in confusion.
“That way you talk. Low and flat, like you don’t give a fuck. Maybe you don’t. Would explain why you’re grown living in your mommy’s house,” he mockingly pouts.
You blink, “you don’t know me.”
“I know girls like you. Pretending like they don’t care. You care. We both know you do.” He moves a glass closer, “say thank you. Like you mean it.”
“I don’t want it,” you insist.
“Don’t want to waste it. Was it you or mommy who paid for the bottle?” He taunts.
You grit your teeth. What is his problem? Why won’t he just leave you alone?
You deflate. You really just want him to go. You look at the ceiling then back to him. He’s the kind of man you would avoid on the street. His blue eyes are as cold as ice and his hair is shaved, but a little longer on top, and he sports a goatee amid the short stubble on his jaw and cheeks.
“Thank you,” you reach for the glass again.
“Thank you, sir,” his voice grizzles as he corrects you.
You steel yourself and your lips slant. You really just want him to tell him to fuck off but like you always do, you don’t say what you think. You keep it inside. Put on that face that keeps you safe.
“Thank you, sir,” you repeat after him.
“Now smile,” he demands.
You flinch and look away. You take a breath. That’s you’re least favourite, when they tell you to smile. It happens often at your job and it always sours your day.
You force a smile.
“Come on, you can do better,” he snickers.
Your cheeks tremble and your smile falls. You tuck your chin down.
“Can you please just leave me alone?” You mumble.
“Excuse me, girl? I can’t hear you.”
“I said...” your throat locks up and your eyes singe. God! When you get angry, you don’t get bold, you just get teary. You hate it. “I said ‘thank you, sir’.”
You grab the glass so abruptly that it sloshes over the side. You don’t stop, you just spin and throw your weight against the door. He lets it close and it slams. You spill most of the juice down your front.
You hear the friction of his fingers dragging down the wood. It sends a chill through you. You slowly pull away and put the glass down, juice dripping down your arms and chest.
He’ll be gone soon, just like the rest.
💀
Your mom’s still asleep when you leave for work. As you sneak out of your room, you listen for any sign of life. If the man’s there, he doesn’t make himself known. You step into your shoes and leave through the front door without looking back.
You head down the street with your earbuds in, a podcast about an old show you watched in high school droning on, as you take the shortcut behind the house at the end of the street. It’s almost four blocks to work but you save money on bus fare. You try to only waste the change after dark.
The ice cream shop is never very busy outside of the post-soccer game crowds. You take your vigil behind the cold counter and bob along with the radio station’s Top 10 countdown. Miley leans in the corner by the till as she chews gum and scrolls through her phone.
You’re fidgety to do the same, but you hate just letting your eyes glaze over. You pace a bit back and forth until her shift is up. When she’s gone, you feel a little less on edge. You always prefer being alone, you don’t have to worry about performing.
Customers come and go. You greet them with the usual ‘how can I help?’ You’ve never been very good at the customer service part but you’re not rude. You just do your job, which it to scoop ice cream and toss some sprinkles around.
You’re entitled to one cone a shift. You rarely have it. You don’t need the extra sugar or the brain freeze. That day, as you close up, the chocolate peanut butter entices you to go outside your routine. You put the lids on all the canisters except for that flavour and do yourself up a waffle cone before you lock up.
You lick the softening cream and turn to face the dark plaza, lit only by the overhead marquee. There’s a car idling just by the curb. You ignore it. A few neighbouring businesses close up around the same time.
The engine revs, and it jolts forward. The horn nearly has you throwing your cone. You fall back into step and keep walking. The Trans Am continues to follow you and honks again. The window rolls down as someone whistles. Only your name stops you.
You turn and bend to see through the window. What the heck? It’s him. The man that invaded your house and threatened you over orange juice.
You exhale through your nose and stand up. You turn down the pavement and keep going. The bus will be there any moment.
“Hey,” he barks, “get back here.”
You keep going. Why is he there? Because of the orange juice?
The car door opens and closes. You speed up as you hear him following you.
“Your mom sent me to pick you up,” he says.
You snort, “sure she did.”
“Really,” he says as his footsteps echo yours.
“She doesn’t even know when I work,” you keep going and he catches your arm, yanking you back.
You spin to face him and yelp. Your scoop shifts precariously in the cone. You try to pull away but not too hard as you selfishly want to keep your treat intact.
“Alright. I offered. I heard you leave. Figured you could use a lift.” He squeezes and you whimper. “I can be a nice guy.”
Can be.
You wince and flutter your lashes, “can you let me go... please?”
He opens his fingers sharply and lifts his hand, showing his palm. “Since you said please...”
You look over your shoulder then back at him. Finally, you glance at your cone. You weigh your options. You’re not a quick runner.
“I appreciate the ride but--”
“I appreciate the ride, sir. Like I said, I can be nice, but respect is earned, girl.”
You swallow tightly, cheeks pinching.
“Sir, I appreciate the ride but I have money for the bus--”
He clucks and points over your shoulder, “that bus?”
You turn and watch the headlights blow by the stop. You flick your eyes to the sky and face him again. “Mmhmm.””
“So, is that a ‘thank you, sir’ on your lips?” He challenges.
You slant your lips back and forth. You fight back a wave of hot frustration. You’re used to feeling powerless but he is suffocating. You nod.
“Thank you, sir,” you choke out.
“See, not that hard to be a good girl.”
He waits until you move. You head back towards his car, and he gets in the driver side. As you claim the passenger seat, he huffs. He looks at you as you try not to acknowledge him.
“Don’t like food in the car. Try not to get it all over,” he snarls.
“I can--”
“Just be careful,” he snips.
Just be quiet, you tell yourself. You pull the seatbelt down and stare through the windshield. You lick around the cone as the cream threatens to melt onto your fingers. The car idles and you glance over. He watches your tongue as you lap up the trickle.
You sit back as his eyes cling to your lips. He lifts his chin and turns straight. He grips the wheel and cranks the volume on the stereo. He speeds off and you struggle to keep from doing just what he warned you not to. You’d tell him to slow down but not only will he not listen, but the sooner you’re home, the better.
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A Heartbeat Between Us V
Summary:
Y.N moves in with Aemond, however he has trouble dealing with his jealousy as Y.N grows closer to Aegon.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Swearing, Jealousy, Insecurity, Miscommunication, Kissing, Semi Public Sex, P in V, Oral Sex (M Recieving).
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 5576
A.N - I used Zac Gabriel as the face claim for Daeron.
A.N - Most of the story is already written, as I start a new job on Saturday :-)
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.
Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole @toodlesxcuddles @mamawiggers1980 @minttea07 @nommingonfood
Aemond was almost regretting his suggestion of going baby shopping the moment he stepped foot into the nursery store.
Rows and rows of items surrounded him, none of which he recognized apart from the basics: a cot, a pram and a changing table.
But what was all this other stuff? As he stood there, utterly bewildered, he picked up an odd-looking contraption with tubes and some kind of cup attached. His brow furrowed in confusion as he turned it over in his hands.
"What the hell is this?" he muttered, more to himself than to anyone in particular.
Y.N. appeared beside him and gave him an amused smile. “That’s a breast pump,” she explained, gently taking it from him.
Aemond blinked. "Are you going to-breastfeed?"
Y.N. nodded. “I’ll give it a try. I read in one of those baby books that I can eventually express milk so you can help with feeds if you want.”
He gave a quick nod, relief washing over him. That, at least, made sense. He would be involved in every aspect of their baby's life, even the late-night feedings.
They continued walking through the aisles, moving past shelves lined with more creams, lotions, and baby products than Aemond had ever seen in his life.
“Babies have really sensitive skin,” Y.N. explained, picking up a tub of lotion and reading the label. “We’ll have to be careful with what we buy for them.”
Aemond was still trying to make sense of the endless products when Y.N. casually mentioned, “I’m thinking I’ll have to put the cot in my room, at least for now. My flat doesn’t have a spare room, so I’ll probably look for a bigger place when the baby gets a bit older-”
Without thinking, Aemond blurted out, “-You could come live with me.”
Y.N. stopped, turning to him in surprise.
He shifted awkwardly, realizing how fast he’d said it, but he pressed on. “-I have the room, and I could help more with the baby. I don’t want to miss out on anything-and it just makes sense, doesn’t it? I mean, we’re having a child together, and I-I want you to feel supported. I want to be there for everything.”
Aemond started rambling, listing reason after reason, but Y.N. interrupted him with a soft smile, placing her hand on his arm.
"I'd like that," she said quietly, "-as long as I can contribute toward the bills. I won’t let you pay for everything."
A wave of relief and happiness washed over him, and he agreed, already picturing them as a family in his penthouse. His focus shifted when he spotted something on a nearby shelf.
A cot mobile, but not just any mobile—this one had tiny, intricately designed dragons hanging from it. He wound it up, and a soft, gentle lullaby began playing as the dragons turned lazily in the air.
Aemond smiled, his eyes lighting up. “I’ve always liked dragons,” he said, nostalgia filling his voice.
Y.N. smiled, too, remembering how his notebooks in school had been covered in his dragon sketches. “I remember.”
“This one,” Aemond said decisively, picking up the boxed version of the mobile. “This is the one I want for our baby.”
Y.N. nodded, touched by his excitement. It was clear how much this meant to him.
As he cradled the box in his hands, she smiled at him, already imagining their baby lying beneath the mobile, lulled to sleep by the soft music and the gentle movement of the dragons.
"Do you know what kind of pram you want?" Aemond asked, trying to sound knowledgeable but still feeling a little out of his depth.
Y.N. chuckled, taking his hand. “I’ve seen a few possibilities. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Aemond had practically marshalled his siblings into helping with Y.N.'s move, each of them assigned specific tasks.
The moving process was well underway, and he was determined that Y.N. wouldn’t lift a finger—especially not anything heavier than a pillow.
So, while Aegon, Daeron, and Aemond handled the heavy lifting, Y.N. and Helaena sat on the floor of her now almost-empty bedroom, packing the last of her things into boxes.
“Honestly, Aemond, I can carry other things,” Y.N. protested as she folded some clothes into a box.
“Absolutely not,” Aemond replied from across the room.
Helaena snickered, helping Y.N. close a box. “He’s being protective. Just let him.”
Y.N. shook her head fondly, turning back to Helaena. “Men.”
Meanwhile, Aegon, ever the opportunist, had loudly volunteered to help with the bedroom packing.
“I’ll handle the personal items!” he announced with a smirk, only to be met with a swift slap on the back of the head from Aemond.
“Go help move the boxes that are already packed and sealed” Aemond ordered, sending Aegon out of the room with a scowl.
Y.N. had already arranged for most of her furniture to go into storage, having decided that she didn’t need much in the way of bulky items.
There was only one exception: her grandfather's beloved armchair. The old, worn chair didn’t match Aemond’s sleek black-and-white decor at all, but Y.N. had insisted on bringing it with her.
Aemond had stood his ground, but when she tied him up in bed and kept edging him during sex, bringing him to the brink of his orgasm as she rode him only to stop, and after four times of being denied the chance to come he caved in, only for him to end up a begging moaning mess as Y.N overstimulated him.
Now, as Daeron worked through her collection of books and DVDs, he raised an eyebrow at what he found.
“She’s got a lot of horror here,” he remarked, flipping through a few titles. “She seriously likes this stuff?”
Aemond, overhearing, glanced over. “It’s her favourite genre. She’s obsessed with creature features and disaster movies, too.”
“Creature features?” Daeron asked, confused.
“You know, movies with killer sharks or giant, man-eating animals,” Aemond replied nonchalantly.
Daeron laughed, shaking his head. “She’s has weird taste-” he teased, only for his eyes to widen when he pulled out a book from a box. “Oh, hello. What’s this? Fifty Shades of—"
Before Daeron could finish, Aemond snatched the book from his hands. “Fifty Shades of Shite, that’s what,” Aemond grumbled. “Now stop messing around and pack.”
Daeron mock saluted him. “Yes, sir.”
Aemond then made his way to check on Aegon, who had unsurprisingly gotten distracted. His elder brother was rifling through a stack of old letters, his face a picture of mischief.
“What the hell are you doing?” Aemond snapped.
“Found some letters-” Aegon replied, waving one around. “-From Jace”
Aemond frowned deeply, but there was a gnawing sense of curiosity that led him to take a glance over Aegon’s shoulder.
Sure enough, Jace’s love-sick declarations and desperate apologies were scrawled across the pages.
Aemond’s scowl deepened, but despite the irritation boiling inside him, he said, “Just put them back. It’s not our business.”
Aegon, with a dramatic sigh, pretended to comply, but when Aemond wasn’t looking, he tossed the letters into the bin.
“So long, Jace, you fucking idiot,” Aegon muttered under his breath.
When Aemond went back to the bedroom, he found Y.N. and Helaena laughing together, nearly finished with the last of the packing. Y.N. was holding up a small box of condoms, grinning.
“Well,” she chuckled, “I guess we won’t be needing these anymore.”
Before Aemond could respond, Aegon’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Hey, I could use them! Saves me buying more.”
Y.N., completely unbothered, shrugged and tossed the box in his direction. “-I didn’t know you was seeing anyone.”
Aegon caught the box and smirked. “Not currently. But I do have my eye on someone,” he replied smugly. “Just a matter of time before she’s mine.”
Y.N. raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, going back to emptying her drawers.
Meanwhile, Aemond shot his brother a warning glare as Aegon winked suggestively at him, making his blood boil.
“Touch her, and I’ll kill you,” Aemond whispered to Aegon, to which his brother only grinned wider.
Y.N, oblivious to the tension between the brothers, finished packing her things and stood up, hands on her hips.
“Well, I think that’s everything. Let’s get the last boxes out, and then we can head over to the penthouse.”
As Y.N. looked around the penthouse, trying to get her bearings amidst the chaos of moving, she realized something was off.
"Aemond, where are all my things?" she asked, her voice tentative.
Aemond glanced up from the hallway, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “They’re in the other spare room,” he said casually, not catching the subtle shift in her expression.
Y.N.’s face fell. “Oh, s-so-I won’t be sharing your room?” she asked, her voice tight with a hint of disappointment.
Aemond, now noticing the change in her mood, looked confused. "I just assumed that you’d want your own space," he replied cautiously. "You know, somewhere you could have to yourself if you ever needed it."
Y.N. forced a smile, though her chest tightened. "N-No, it’s fine, I-I understand," she said quietly before slipping away down the hall and shutting herself into the spare room.
The click of the door felt like a punch to Aemond’s gut.
Aegon, who had been lounging on the couch, shot his brother a look of disbelief. “Well, aren’t you a fucking moron,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Daeron, standing nearby, chimed in with a frown. “You’re in love with her, she’s pregnant with your kid, and you ask her to move in, only to stick her in the spare room? What were you thinking?”
Helaena crossed her arms, giving Aemond a pointed look. “You need to fix this, and fast.” She shoved him gently towards the door.
Aemond swallowed, his stomach churning with guilt as he approached the spare room.
He knocked softly, and after a long moment, he heard her voice call from inside. “Come in.”
Aemond slipped inside, shutting the door gently behind him. Y.N. was sitting on the bed, surrounded by boxes, her eyes red as if she’d been fighting back tears. His heart sank, and he immediately knelt down in front of her, resting his hands on her knees.
“I’m so sorry,” Aemond said earnestly. “I should have talked to you first. I shouldn’t have just assumed anything.”
Y.N. gave him a small smile, but her eyes betrayed her hurt. “It’s okay. I understand.”
Aemond shook his head. “No, it’s not. I-I’ve never really lived with anyone before, not like this-” he confessed, his voice soft. “-As an adult, it’s all new to me. With Alys-she would only stay over every so often, but we never lived together. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”
Y.N.’s gaze softened as he spoke, her hand moving to cup his face gently. “I get that, Aemond. But it still hurt.”
He closed his eye, leaning into her touch. “I just wanted to make sure you were happy,” he murmured. “Of course, I want you in my bed every night, but I thought you might want a space to call your own. Where you can work on your art or-get away from me when I inevitably annoy you.” He smirked slightly at his own words, but his eyes were full of sincerity.
Y.N. smiled at that, her thumb brushing over his scared cheek. “Can I?” she asked hesitantly, motioning towards his eyepatch.
Aemond nodded, and she carefully slid the patch from his face, revealing his sapphire eye. Y.N. smiled softly, gazing at him. “There. Now I can see you,” she whispered.
The tenderness in her voice, the warmth of her touch—it was more than Aemond could take. He surged forward, capturing her mouth in a passionate kiss.
His hands slid up her thighs to her waist, pushing her back gently until she was lying on the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress.
The boxes around them were pushed aside, some tumbling onto the floor with a thud, but neither of them cared.
“I want you,” Aemond groaned into her mouth, his voice low and rough with desire.
Y.N. gasped, her breath shaky. “Your brothers and your sister-are here.”
Aemond smirked, his lips brushing against her neck. “We’d better be quiet then,” he teased, his fingers already working to pull her clothes off, his need for her growing with every passing second.
He peeled off his own shirt and lowered his trousers and boxers just enough to free his already hard cock.
Y.N audibly gasped when she felt Aemond’s fingers rubbing her folds.
“O-Oh Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he slipped a finger inside her, his movements slow and deliberate.
“Always so warm-so wet for me” muttered Aemond as he added another finger, making sure to use his thumb, sweeping it against her pearl.
“I don’t want to wait-please-Aemond take me” whispered Y.N, as she wrapped her legs around Aemond’s waist, holding him as close as she could.
Aemond took his cock in hand, running the head along her warm wet folds, before he pressed inside her, inching forward slowly.
“So beautiful, swollen with my child” whispered Aemond.
“P-Please Aemond” whimpered Vaeda.
Aemond began to move with a slow, deep grinding. His movements deliberate and calculated.
“Gods be good,” panted Y.N.
“Fuck. You were made for me. You were made to fit my cock in this sweet cunt of yours.” breathed Aemond as he increased the pace of this thrusts.
“A-Aemond. Please.” exclaimed Y.N as she brought her hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as his thrusts shift her up and down the bed.
Aemond makes a strangled sort of sound and lowers himself onto Y.N even more, kissing her passionately.
His hips rolling against hers, his cock thrusting in and out.
Y.N kissed him back, threading her fingers through his long silky hair, her nails scraping against his scalp, just the way he likes it.
“Mine” muttered Aemond.
Y.N could feel herself clenching around him as his cock keeps hitting the same spot inside her.
“Ooo Aemond-f-faster. P-please”
Aemond lets out a loud groan as he begins to move faster pounding into her, the sound of their skin slapping together echoing around the room.
“Aemond-Aemond-”
“You’re so fucking perfect-come-come for me” growls Aemond.
“Y-Yes., Aemond” moaned Y.N squirming, the heat shooting across her abdomen as her pleasure peaks, and she explodes, her cunt tightening around Aemond.
Aemond lets out a long low groan, his movements becoming erratic. His cock throbbing as he spills inside her.
Aegon, Daeron, and Helaena were sprawled out on the sofa in Aemond’s penthouse, waiting for any sign of their brother.
Daeron leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, a curious expression on his face. “Do you think he’s apologized yet?”
Aegon snickered, shaking his head with amusement. “If the sound of the headboard banging against the wall wasn’t enough of an indication, then our brother’s groaning sure was,” he said with a laugh, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
Just then, the bedroom door creaked open, and Aemond stepped out, looking a little dishevelled.
He was shirtless, wearing only his jeans, his long silver hair was a tousled mess, and his cheeks tinged pink with exertion. Aegon immediately started snickering again, earning a scowl from Aemond.
Helaena raised an eyebrow, stifling a laugh of her own. “Is Y.N. going to join us?” she asked innocently, though the amused glint in her eye didn’t go unnoticed.
Aemond rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s, uh-sleeping,” he replied, trying to sound casual.
Daeron’s eyes widened dramatically. “Sleeping? What did you do to her?”
Aegon let out a loud cackle. “Oh, I think we all heard what he did to her,” he said with a teasing grin, leaning back on the couch as if thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.
Aemond shot him a glare. “Shut up, Aegon.”
Still grinning, Aegon shrugged. “Hey, no judgment. Just, you know-it was loud.”
Aemond sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “It’s probably best if you all leave” he said, attempting to regain his composure. “Thanks for your help today, but I think we’ll have to rearrange game night-”
Helaena smiled as she stood up, gathering her things. “You’re welcome, Aemond”.
“Fine, but you’re buying the beer next game night.” Aegon quipped with a smirk as he got to his feet.
Aemond rolled his eye but nodded. “Fine, I’ll buy the beer.”
As Daeron grabbed his jacket, he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “Bet Y.N. sleeps well tonight-”
Aemond shot him a final look of warning before quickly ushering all three of them toward the door.
“Out. All of you,” he commanded, though the faint smile on his lips showed he wasn’t truly angry.
As they left the penthouse, Aegon couldn’t resist one last comment, leaning back to shout, “Next time, at least soundproof the walls!”
The door slammed behind them, and Aemond leaned against it, exhaling deeply. Peace and quiet at last.
Aemond couldn't help but think that asking Y.N. to move in with him was one of the best decisions he'd ever made.
Life with her was everything he hadn't realized he'd been missing. They settled into an easy rhythm—taking turns cooking, sharing quiet evenings together, and every night, he found himself tangled in bed with her, relishing the warmth and intimacy that had quickly become second nature to them both.
What Aemond liked most, though, was watching Y.N. work. She had claimed a small corner of the penthouse, transforming it into her personal workspace.
All her materials were meticulously arranged—paints, brushes, restoration tools—and her attention to detail was astonishing. He found himself mesmerized by the faces she made when she was deep in concentration.
But more than anything, what drove him wild was as her pregnancy progressed, she often got quite warm, so she would often wear shorts and a sports bra whilst working from home.
The sight of her growing belly made him ache with desire and he spent his nights with his head between her thighs before he made love to her.
He was bursting with pride when she completed the restoration of a statue for the museum and watching her meticulously package up the finished piece, her smile radiant with accomplishment, was a memory he knew he’d never forget.
When she received an invite to the unveiling and insisted that he join her, he agreed without hesitation.
The night of the unveiling, Y.N. looked breathtaking. Her floor-length dress hugged her in all the right places, accentuating her swollen belly and ample curves. Aemond couldn’t take his eye off her the entire evening.
She was in her element, accepting praise and accolades for her work with grace and humility, glowing in the spotlight she so deserved. His heart swelled with pride every time someone came up to compliment her on the restoration.
Of course, the press had been there, snapping photos and recording every moment. It didn’t take long for the word to spread: Aemond Targaryen has not only moved on from Alys Rivers but is also expecting a child with someone new.
He had known it was inevitable, but he thanked the gods they’d managed to keep it quiet for as long as they had.
Y.N. had handled the attention well, her smile never faltering, though Aemond could sense her relief when they finally made their way back home that night.
Now, with the unveiling behind them, his thoughts turned to their upcoming 20-week scan. He was counting down the days with barely contained excitement.
Soon, they’d find out the gender of the baby, and Aemond could finally start working on the nursery, something he’d been quietly planning in his mind for weeks.
The thought of preparing a space for their child filled him with a warmth that was both unfamiliar and exhilarating.
Aemond and Y.N. attended the 20-week scan with excitement buzzing between them. As Marie, moved the probe over Y.N.'s belly, the room filled with the rhythmic sound of their baby’s heartbeat.
Aemond held Y.N.'s hand tightly, his eye fixed on the monitor, watching in awe as their child appeared in crisp black and white. Everything looked perfect.
When Marie asked if they wanted to know the baby’s gender, Y.N. hesitated for a moment before saying, "Could you write it down and give it to Aemond?" Marie smiled knowingly and handed Aemond an envelope, now containing the secret of their baby's gender.
With the knowledge safely tucked away in his pocket, Aemond's mind quickly shifted to the nursery.
As soon as they got home, he began putting his plans into action.
He forbade Y.N. from stepping foot inside the room and told her the nursery would be a surprise. Soon after, various pieces of furniture were delivered—a cot, a changing table, and everything else they’d need.
To put everything together, Aemond enlisted the help of Aegon and Daeron, which turned into a comical disaster. As Y.N. sat in the living room, she could hear them bickering and swearing through the closed door.
At least twice, she heard Aemond threaten to kill Aegon, which was quickly followed by laughter and the unmistakable clinking of beer bottles.
The constant back and forth amused her—at least it sounded like they were having a good time.
Once the furniture was set up, she made a meal for them all, something hearty to thank them for their efforts.
When the brothers emerged from the nursery, sweaty but satisfied, Aegon and Daeron couldn't stop smirking and elbowing each other as they watched Aemond gravitate toward Y.N.
He stood behind her, hands resting on her bump as she dished up the food, his eye soft and full of affection.
"Man, he’s totally whipped," Aegon muttered to Daeron, who snickered in agreement.
They couldn’t understand why Aemond hadn’t told Y.N. he was in love with her yet. Or even why he hadn’t asked her to officially be his girlfriend.
Aegon, never one to keep his thoughts to himself, brought it up. “So, bro,” he began, a mischievous glint in his eye, “what’s the deal? Why haven’t you asked Y.N. to be your girlfriend yet? You’re practically married at this point.”
Aemond’s jaw clenched, and at first, he ignored the question, but Aegon kept poking at him, goading him with teasing comments.
Finally, Aemond snapped, “Because I’m too scared, alright?”
His brothers went quiet, surprised by his outburst. Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of his admission.
“I don’t know if she feels the same way. I don’t want to ruin what we have by saying something stupid.”
Aegon and Daeron exchanged a glance, their teasing expressions softening. Aegon, for once, was thoughtful. “You’ve got nothing to be scared of. Look at how she looks at you. I’m pretty sure she’s crazy about you.”
Daeron nodded. “And you’re going to be parents soon. You should tell her how you feel before it drives you mad.”
Aemond knew they were right, but the fear of rejection gnawed at him. What if telling her the truth upset the balance they’d found? He sighed, casting a glance toward the kitchen where Y.N. was laughing softly to herself, completely unaware of the conversation.
One day, he promised himself. One day soon.
At 30 weeks pregnant, Y.N. had been waiting anxiously to see the nursery Aemond had been working on.
He had kept her out of the room for weeks, insisting that it had to be perfect before she could see it.
But now, standing at the door, Aemond smiled and gently took her hands. “Close your eyes,” he instructed, guiding her carefully into the room.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trusting him completely as he led her forward.
Once they were inside, he took a deep breath. “Okay,” he whispered, “Open-”
Y.N.’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped. The room was stunning. Cream and soft blue hues covered the walls, and the sunlight from the window illuminated the room in a warm, peaceful glow.
The crib stood proudly, adorned with the dragon mobile, its tiny wings gently swaying in the air. A beautifully crafted changing table was positioned nearby, and resting on it was a knitted blue blanket—Helaena’s handiwork.
“A boy-” Y.N. marvelled, her voice barely above a whisper as she admired every detail. She ran her fingers over the blanket, her heart swelling with love for the baby growing inside her.
Then her eyes caught sight of something—a sheet hanging over a section of the wall above the crib.
“What’s that for?” she asked, curiosity piqued.
Aemond stepped closer, his expression soft but a little nervous. “It’s covering the baby’s name,” he explained, watching her face carefully.
Y.N. looked at him in surprise. “But we haven’t really decided on names yet.”
Aemond smiled sheepishly. “I, uh-I kind of already chose one.”
Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, but before she could say anything else, Aemond reached up and pulled the sheet away from the wall, revealing the name he had picked.
Y.N. took one look and burst into tears.
Aemond’s eyes widened in panic as he immediately wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, holding her close. “I thought—I’m sorry if I got it wrong. I can change it.”
But Y.N. shook her head, burying her face against his chest as she sobbed. “No,” she managed to say between tears, “I love it. I love it so much.”
A wave of relief washed over Aemond, and he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Thank the gods,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at his lips. Y.N. wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.
She pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes still misty but filled with joy.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her gaze drifting back to the wall, where her grandfather’s name was painted in elegant script. “It’s not a traditional Targaryen name though”
Aemond smiled, gently wiping her tears away with his thumb. “So, we break the tradition,” he said softly, his hand resting on her bump. “It’s our choice what to name our son. Besides, we can give him a Targaryen middle name”.
Y.N. placed her hand over his, just as the baby kicked. They both smiled, feeling the life they had created together move beneath their hands.
Aemond chuckled softly. “I think he approves.”
Y.N. laughed, her heart feeling lighter than it had in days. “I think he does.”
Aemond looked around the nursery, a sense of satisfaction and pride in his work. “Now all that’s left is to get the pram and some clothes, and we’ll be good to go.”
Y.N. nodded, her heart full as she took in the room again, but mostly she looked at Aemond, marvelling at how lucky she was to be building a family with him.
Aemond arrived home after an exhausting day, his mind already wandering to Y.N. and the baby.
As he opened the door, his ears picked up on Y.N.'s voice, sounding almost-playful.
"No, Aegon, it's too hard," she said, a teasing edge to her tone.
Aegon groaned. "So? You love it when it’s hard."
Aemond froze, blood boiling in his veins as he heard Y.N. laugh.
"Okay, fine, let's try again, but give me some time to adjust," she responded.
Aemond saw red. Was his brother seriously fucking the mother of his child in his penthouse? Right under his nose? Whilst she was pregnant?
Rage bubbling inside him, Aemond stormed into the living room, heart pounding.
"What the hell is going on here?" he bellowed, fully prepared to murder Aegon with his bare hands.
To his surprise, he found Y.N. sitting cross-legged on the floor with a PlayStation controller in her hand.
Aegon was sprawled on the sofa beside her, also holding a controller, looking completely unbothered by Aemond's entrance.
"We're playing Mortal Kombat, genius," Aegon said with a lazy grin. "What’s got you so worked up?"
Aemond blinked, his fury deflating but still simmering beneath the surface. "What are you doing here, Aegon?" he snapped, irritation lacing his voice.
Aegon shrugged. "Y.N. called me. She was home alone, and wanted some company."
Aemond shot Y.N. a frustrated look. “You could’ve called me. I would’ve come home.”
Y.N. waved him off. “You were busy, Aemond. I didn’t want to bother you.”
Aegon smirked, clearly enjoying the tension between them. “I’ll be heading out anyway,” he said, standing up and stretching. “Got a date with Cerelle Lannister tonight. As much as I’d love to stick around and wind you up further, I’ve got better things to do.”
“Yeah, fuck off” Aemond muttered, earning a chiding look from Y.N.
“Aemond, don’t be rude,” she said, though Aegon laughed it off.
“No worries. I’m used to his mood swings by now.” He leaned over and planted an exaggerated kiss on Y.N.’s head, grinning when Aemond’s face twisted with annoyance.
“Later, you two,” he called over his shoulder, strolling out of the penthouse as if he hadn’t just wound his brother up like a toy.
The door shut with a soft click, leaving Aemond glaring after him.
"I don’t want him alone here with you," Aemond grumbled, still fuming.
Y.N. rolled her eyes and placed the controller down. “Why? It’s just Aegon.”
"You know how my brother is," Aemond said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don’t trust him.”
“I’m more than capable of handling Aegon," Y.N. shot back, her voice firm.
Aemond sighed. "I never said you weren’t capable. I just—" He paused, realizing how this was coming across. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I’m just trying to protect you, Y.N. That's all."
Y.N. crossed her arms, a look of mild irritation on her face. "Well, it sounds like you're doubting me."
Her moods had been unpredictable lately. One moment, she’d be happy and relaxed, the next, she was crying over something as simple as the wrong pasta brand or getting angry when he suggested healthier meals instead of her craving for fast food.
More than once, she had snapped at him to stay away, only to come to him moments later in tears, asking him to hold her or take her to bed.
As Y.N. gazed up at him from her position on the floor, Aemond braced himself, unsure of which mood she might descend into now.
But instead of another emotional outburst, she surprised him. Y.N. shifted to her knees, her eyes glinting with mischief as her fingers reached for his belt buckle.
Aemond’s breath hitched, his pulse quickening. "Y.N.," he warned, his voice low, but she silenced him with a smirk, undoing his trousers.
Next thing he knew, Y.N’s warm, wet mouth was wrapped around his soft cock.
Aemond put his hand on the back of her head as started to suck his cock and caress his balls.
Soon his cock sprang to life, and Aemond was losing his mind at the sight of her pink lips stretched around his hard length.
Y.N’s tongue ran around the tip – tracing the ridges and licking off that drops of pre-cum that had started to leak out.
“Fuck, Y.N!” groaned Aemond as he threaded his fingers through her hair.
Y.N ran the flat of her tongue along Aemond’s length, tracing every hard inch of him.
Aemond’s heart almost stopped when she sucked his stones into her mouth, one at a time.
Her hand moving slowly over the hard length of him.
When Y.N engulfed Aemond’s cock in her mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut.
Y.N was driving him crazy.
Aemond forced himself to open his eyes, he had to watch her sucking his cock.
“Your taking me so well. Such a good girl” moaned Aemond.
Aemond knew it would push him too far to control, but he did not care. He just had to watch his cock disappear into Y.N’s mouth and see it come back out, shining with her spit.
Her head moving back and forth, her pink lips stretched around him. Oh, it was heaven.
Y.N smiled slightly and began moving faster, also using one of her hands in rhythm with her mouth.
“It feels so good-” groaned Aemond his hand gripping her hair as he began to fuck her face.
“Hmmm” muttered Y.N as she dug her fingers into the flesh of his arse.
“I’m not going to last-if you carry on” Aemond admitted.
Y.N responded to his statement by relaxing the back of her throat, and swallowing as much of Aemond’s cock as she could, whilst her other hand gently cupped his balls.
“Shit Y.N! I’m going to come. Oh, fuck, I’m coming!” shouted Aemond as he exploded.
She took every last drop, swallowing his seed and licking him clean.
When he recovered, Aemond saw Y.N’s self-satisfied smile.
“Was that to your liking?” asked Y.N.
“Y-Yes” gasped Aemond.
“Now can I have a Burger King?”
Aemond who was still dazed from his orgasm simply nodded. Damn that mouth of hers, he thought, his mind still reeling.
As he ran a hand through his dishevelled hair, he couldn’t help but shake his head with a mixture of admiration and disbelief.
He’d come home angry, jealous, ready to fight. Now, he was standing there, utterly undone, with no memory of why he was even frustrated in the first place.
TBC
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