A Heartbeat Between Us VIII
Summary:
As things start to improve between Y.N and Aemond, Alys reveals her true intentions, and as Y.N turns to Aegon for support the brothers come to blows.
Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Fluff, Tension, Swearing, Idiocy, Miscommunication, Misunderstanding, Jealousy, Violence, Fighting,
AEMOND x Y.N
Word Count: 7770
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 woke with a start, his arm stretching across the bed to where Y.N. should have been, but the space beside him was cold and empty.
A sinking feeling gripped him as he sat up, glancing around the room in confusion. Throwing on his discarded clothes from the night before, he hurried down the hallway to Jack’s room. The sight of the empty cot made his heart race, panic flooding his chest.
“Y.N.?” he called out, but there was no answer.
Aemond tried to remain calm, his fingers fumbling for his phone. He rang her, but it went straight to voicemail. He tried again and again, the same result. Frustration and fear mounted with each passing second.
He paced the living room, running through his contacts, ringing Helaena, Daeron, and even Aegon, asking if they had seen her or heard from her. The answer was always the same: no.
His chest tightened. Had she really left him? After last night? Aemond’s gaze darted around the penthouse, and he realized that her things were still there.
The suitcase she had packed in a fury the night before was still there, laying where it had fallen on the floor during their vigorous sex session.
Relief washed over him, but it was quickly replaced by confusion. If she hadn’t left, where was she?
Just as he contemplated going out to search for her, the sound of the door opening made him freeze. Y.N. stepped inside, pushing Jack’s pram.
Aemond rushed to her, wrapping his arms around her without a second thought.
"Where were you?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion as he unbuckled Jack from the pram and lifted him into his arms, holding him close. "I was worried."
Y.N. gave him a small, tired smile. "I went to the doctor," she said, her tone matter of fact. "Since we didn’t take any precautions last night, I needed to get the morning-after pill."
Aemond’s breath hitched. "Oh," he said softly, watching as Y.N. reached into her bag and pulled out a small box.
She read the instructions on the back, popped out the pill, and swallowed it with a glass of water.
"I also decided that I’m going to start taking the contraceptive pill," she added. "Just to be safe."
Aemond nodded slowly, his gaze following her movements. He put Jack down on his play mat, the soft jingling of toys filling the room. He took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.
“About last night-” he started, his voice hesitant. “-I don’t know what came over me. If I was too rough—if I hurt you—”
Y.N. shook her head, cutting him off. "Don’t apologize," she said softly. “I liked it.”
Her words stirred something inside him, but Aemond knew there was more to say, more to confront. He couldn’t keep avoiding it. Turning to face her fully, he took a deep breath.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice steady but serious. "About us."
Y.N. finished her water and leaned against the counter, arms folded across her chest. She nodded, her expression unreadable. Aemond took a step closer.
“For a start,” he continued, “-There is no us. But don’t you think there should be?”
Y.N. hesitated for a moment, chewing her lip as she considered his words. "I guess things weren’t working out the way they were."
“No, they weren’t,” Aemond agreed. “But we already have a child. We live together, we have sex and we love each other Why can’t we explore a relationship? Properly.”
Y.N. raised an eyebrow, her voice tinged with scepticism. "What about Alys?"
Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I swear, there’s nothing there with her. Not anymore. I know I shouldn’t have let her in, but I feel like I owe her-for the way things ended."
Y.N. narrowed her eyes, clearly still not convinced. "I don’t trust her, Aemond. Not one bit."
“I know you don’t like her,” he replied. “But I promise, it’s just business. There’s nothing else between us.”
Y.N. looked at him, her gaze searching his face for the truth. “Is this really what you want?” she asked quietly. “To be with me?”
Aemond stepped forward, his eye never leaving hers. “It is. I’ve been a fool to wait this long to ask you.”
She chuckled lightly, some of the tension easing between them. "Why did you wait?" she teased, a hint of a smile playing on her lips.
Aemond smirked, rolling his eye. "Fear, mostly. Fear that you didn’t feel the same way. Fear of ruining what we had."
Y.N. let out a soft laugh. “If you really mean it-I want you to ask me properly.”
Aemond’s smirk widened, and he crossed his arms. “So, regularly sticking you with my cock isn’t asking properly?”
She laughed again, shaking her head. "No, it’s not the same thing."
He let out a deep breath, taking her hand in his. “Y.N.,” he said, his voice soft but sure. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Y.N. smiled, a bright, genuine smile that lit up her whole face. “Yes,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. “I will be your girlfriend.”
Aemond grinned, his heart swelling with joy as he leaned in and kissed her, softly at first, then with more passion.
When they finally pulled apart, Y.N. excused herself to the bathroom, leaving Aemond standing there, his mind racing with relief and happiness.
Finally, she was his.
Aemond sat with Aegon and Daeron at their usual table in the club, the neon lights casting a soft glow over them.
The atmosphere was buzzing, and as they ordered their drinks, Daeron’s eyes zeroed in on the mark on Aemond's neck. He sniggered, pointing at it with a raised eyebrow.
"Who's responsible for that?" Daeron asked, barely hiding his smirk.
Aegon snorted, taking a sip of his beer. "Alys?"
Aemond glared at him. "Absolutely not. It was my girlfriend."
Aegon’s laugh echoed over the thumping music. “So, you finally grew some balls and asked Y.N. out?”
Aemond scowled at him but didn’t deny it, which only made Aegon laugh harder.
Daeron shook his head in amusement. “About time. By the way, did you ever find out where she went the other day? You were freaking out."
Aemond sighed, swirling his whiskey. "She went to the doctor. Got the morning-after pill."
Aegon rolled his eyes dramatically. "Seriously, do you have some kind of aversion to condoms or what?"
"My mind was on other things at the time,” Aemond muttered defensively, taking a long drink. “But she’s on the pill now.”
Daeron chuckled. “At least she’s taking responsibility.”
Aemond hummed in agreement before dropping a bombshell. “Alys stopped by the penthouse.”
Aegon nearly choked on his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You what? You let her in? Are you an idiot?”
Daeron looked equally stunned. “What were you thinking?”
“I-feel like I owe her,” Aemond admitted, though his voice lacked conviction.
“For what?” Aegon demanded.
Aemond leaned back in his chair, exhaling slowly “-For cheating on her”
Aegon scoffed “The two of you were living completely separate lives before you dipped your wick in Y.N”
“Maybe I still feel like I owe her something for the way things ended”
Aegon rolled his eyes. “Please. Alys was in the relationship for herself, and you know it.”
Aemond shook his head, staring into his glass. “Maybe toward the end, but at the beginning-”
Daeron cut him off. “Beginning, middle, or end—it’s irrelevant now. You don’t owe Alys a damn thing.”
Aegon raised his beer. “Here, here. Come on, brother. Drink up—we’re celebrating tonight!”
Aemond arched an eyebrow. “Celebrating what?”
Aegon grinned wide. “You finally getting the girl.”
Later that night, after far too many drinks, Aemond stumbled down the hallway to his penthouse.
His fingers fumbled with the key, and in his drunken state, he cursed under his breath.
"Who's moving this damned lock?" he groaned, leaning against the door for support.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Aemond went flying into the penthouse, landing ungracefully on the floor.
He blinked up at Y.N., who stood above him, arms crossed but an amused smile playing on her lips.
“Hello,” he slurred, sprawled on the floor.
Y.N. knelt down, a mix of amusement and concern on her face. “Did you have a good night?”
Aemond clumsily tried to get to his knees, swaying slightly. “I had a few beers,” he mumbled.
Y.N. quirked an eyebrow. “Looks like you’ve had more than a few,” she remarked, closing the door behind him and locking it.
Aemond groaned, rubbing his forehead. “I’m bit tired.”
“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Y.N. said, helping him to his feet. He stumbled slightly, and she all but dragged him towards the bedroom.
On the way, Aemond suddenly stopped, looking serious. “I have a girlfriend,” he said, as if making a grand declaration.
Y.N. stifled a laugh. “I’m sure your girlfriend will understand.”
Aemond looked up at her, his drunken expression deadly serious. “My girlfriend is my girlfriend, and she had a baby-my baby-”
“How nice,” Y.N. laughed, guiding him to the edge of the bed. She sat him down and began pulling off his shoes and socks.
As she worked, Aemond’s eye fluttered, his head lolling. “You smell nice,” he murmured, slurring slightly.
Y.N. laughed again, shaking her head as she took off his coat and removed his eyepatch. She was careful, knowing how vulnerable he felt without it.
Aemond squinted up at her. “Are you trying to get me naked?” he asked, a lopsided grin on his face.
Y.N. rolled her eyes. “I’m trying to get you comfortable.”
Aemond’s hands found their way to her waist, his forehead resting against her stomach as he clung to her. “I love you,” he mumbled, his voice softer now. “I do. So much. Please don’t leave me.”
Her heart clenched at his words. “I’m not leaving. Now, come on—lie down and go to sleep.”
With her gentle urging, Aemond finally lay back against the pillows, his body relaxing almost instantly. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out cold, his breathing deep and steady.
Y.N. stood there for a moment, watching him sleep, her hand brushing through his hair. Despite everything, she couldn’t help but smile.
Aemond woke up the next morning face down, groaning at the pounding in his skull.
His mouth felt like sandpaper, and the faint light filtering through the curtains only worsened his throbbing headache.
He groaned and muttered to himself, "Never drinking again."
Slowly, he pushed himself up, feeling like every bone in his body ached from his night of excess. Shakily, he stood and stumbled toward the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his dishevelled reflection.
His hair was a mess, and the faint smell of stale alcohol clung to his skin. “Gods, I reek,” he muttered, stripping off his clothes and stepping into the shower.
The hot water didn’t do much to ease his hangover, but at least it helped him feel a little more human. After drying off, he threw on a clean shirt and sweatpants before heading to the kitchen, still rubbing his temples.
When he entered the kitchen, the smell of sizzling bacon hit him, making his stomach growl loudly. Y.N. stood at the stove, flipping over sausages and eggs, while a platter of crispy bacon sat on the counter.
“What's all this?” Aemond asked, his voice hoarse from last night.
Y.N. looked over her shoulder with a small smile. “Bacon, eggs, sausages—best hangover cure there is.”
Aemond could practically taste the food already, his stomach growling in anticipation. “You're a lifesaver.”
Before sitting down, he wandered into the living room to check on Jack. His son was on his playmat, gurgling happily and kicking his legs in the air.
Aemond’s heart softened instantly as he crouched down, brushing his hand over Jack’s soft hair. "Good morning, little man," he murmured.
Y.N.’s voice called from the kitchen. “Aemond, come sit down. Food’s ready.”
Reluctantly leaving Jack, Aemond joined her at the table and sat down. The plate in front of him was piled with food—golden eggs, perfectly crisp bacon, sausages cooked to perfection.
He didn’t waste time, diving in hungrily. Every bite seemed to ease the ache in his head a little more.
After finishing his breakfast, Y.N. handed him a glass of water and some painkillers. "Thought you might need these," she said with a teasing smile.
Aemond sighed in relief, taking the painkillers gratefully. “You’re a saint,” he muttered, washing them down.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of laziness. Aemond spent most of it sprawled out on the sofa, watching Jack play nearby, occasionally dozing off.
At one point, he even found himself napping with Jack snuggled up against him on the couch, the baby’s soft breaths helping him relax despite his headache.
But his peaceful nap was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, startling him awake. Jack stirred but didn’t cry, and Aemond gently laid him back on the playmat before sitting up groggily.
Y.N. was already answering the door when two men entered, their arms laden with large boxes, making quite a racket as they brought them inside.
Y.N. signed for the delivery, thanking them before they left. She turned toward the boxes with a curious look, wiping her hands on a towel as she approached them.
"What’s all this?" Aemond asked, still feeling groggy as he watched her tear open the packaging.
“It’s a delivery from the museum,” Y.N. explained, pulling away the bubble wrap to reveal two statues inside, both looking worse for wear. The stone was chipped in several places, and the detail on their surfaces was faded and worn down.
Aemond stepped closer, peering at the statues. “Think you can fix them?”
Y.N. smiled confidently, her fingers running over the smooth, cold surface of one of the statues. “Absolutely. They’ve seen better days, but I’ve handled worse. I’ll have them looking good as new soon.”
Aemond nodded, impressed as always with her skill. He watched her work for a moment, feeling a surge of pride in her abilities. “You’re really amazing, you know that?”
Y.N. looked up from the statue, a soft blush colouring her cheeks. “Thanks,” she said quietly before turning back to her workbench.
For the next couple of months, Y.N. worked diligently on the two statues that had been delivered from the museum.
She had printed pictures of what the statues originally looked like and pinned them to the walls of her workspace for reference.
Each day was a careful, deliberate process—she spent hours gently cleaning the weathered stone, ensuring that every inch was properly prepped before moving on to repairs.
When the cleaning was complete, Y.N. mixed plaster to the perfect consistency, using it to patch up the chips and cracks that marred the statues.
She took her time, delicately applying the mixture before using a fine-grain sandpaper to smooth out any unevenness. Every touch required precision, and the smallest mistake could ruin weeks of progress.
After the repairs were done, she moved on to the final stages: painting and applying a special wax that not only enhanced the statues' details but also provided an extra layer of protection.
It was a painstakingly slow process, but Y.N. found it rewarding. Still, the work had taken longer than anticipated due to balancing her time between the restoration and caring for Jack.
Once the statues were fully restored, they were carefully boxed up in layers of protective material and sent back to the museum.
As much as Y.N. loved her work, she felt a sense of relief when the project was completed. She had poured so much energy into the restoration that, despite her passion, it left her feeling drained.
But knowing that she had done justice to the pieces, especially with Jack in tow, made the reward even sweeter.
One afternoon, feeling a little freer after finishing the statues, Y.N. decided to surprise Aemond at work.
She stopped by a local café to grab them some dinner and pushed Jack in his pram as she made her way to Targaryen Inc.
As she entered the sleek lobby, she was startled to hear someone call her name. She turned to see Jacaerys waving at her from across the room.
They hadn’t seen each other since the heated argument in the café months ago, and Y.N. hesitated for a moment before waving back.
Jace quickly crossed the room to meet her. "Hey," he said, a bit of uncertainty in his voice. "How have you been?"
Y.N. smiled, adjusting her grip on Jack's pram. "I've been fine. You?"
Jace glanced down at Jack, his expression softening. "Wow, he really looks like Aemond."
Y.N. smiled fondly at her son. "Yeah, he does."
After a beat, Jace rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Look, I wanted to apologize for how I spoke to you in the café. I was angry, and I lashed out. But I shouldn’t have said those things."
Y.N. took a deep breath, remembering how hurtful that encounter had been.
But seeing Jace now, visibly regretful, she nodded. "It’s okay. I probably should have told you from the start that Aemond was Jack’s father. I understand why you were upset."
Jace gave her a sad smile. "How are things with my uncle? My mother said you two are dating now."
Y.N. felt a warmth spread through her at the thought of Aemond. "They’re good. I know we did things a little backward—baby first, then the relationship—but we’re happy."
Jace nodded, but his smile was tinged with sadness. "I'm glad to hear that," he said quietly.
For a few moments, they stood there in silence, the weight of everything unspoken hanging between them.
Then Jace cleared his throat and glanced at the time. "I should get going. I told my mother I'd only be five minutes."
Y.N. smiled. "Of course. It was nice seeing you, Jace."
He hesitated for a second, then quickly stepped forward and hugged her.
It was brief but sincere. "Take care, Y.N.," he said as he pulled away, rushing off before either of them could dwell on the moment.
Y.N. watched him go, feeling a strange mixture of relief and nostalgia. She took a deep breath, then turned back toward the lift.
Pressing the button, she smiled at Jack, ready to surprise Aemond with their impromptu visit.
Y.N. stepped out of the lift, pushing Jack's pram ahead of her, feeling a surge of excitement at the idea of surprising Aemond.
The office was quiet, and she noticed Aemond’s assistant wasn’t at her desk.
Smiling down at Jack, who gave her a gummy grin in response, she whispered, “Let’s surprise Daddy, shall we?”
She quietly pushed open the door to Aemond’s office, but the sight that greeted her made her stop in her tracks.
Alys was sitting close to Aemond on the leather sofa.
Aemond shot up from his seat the moment he saw Y.N. walk in, looking slightly startled.
"Y.N.," he said, with a forced smile, quickly crossing the room to kiss her head. "This is a nice surprise."
Y.N. fought the wave of anger surging through her but forced a smile. "I was taking a walk with Jack," she said, her voice tight, "and thought I’d bring you something for dinner since you've been working hard lately."
Aemond’s face softened. "That was thoughtful of you," he said, reaching into the pram to lift Jack out. He held his son close, pressing a kiss to his chubby cheek. “Daddy's missed you.”
Y.N. watched, her stomach churning as Alys rose gracefully from the sofa and walked over to stand beside Aemond.
"He’s gotten bigger-" Alys said with a sweet smile, looking at Jack. "Can I hold him?"
"No," Y.N. snapped, before she could stop herself. She quickly reached for Jack, putting him back into the pram and turning him away from Alys.
There was a tension in the air that no one could ignore as Alys stepped back, her smirk barely hidden.
Y.N. turned to Aemond, her voice sharp. "What is she doing here?"
Aemond leaned in close, whispering hurriedly, "I didn’t know she was coming. She just turned up."
Y.N. narrowed her eyes, her anger boiling over. "Then you should’ve thrown her old arse out."
Aemond sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I’m just helping her get established with her business. That’s all."
Y.N. scoffed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "The only business she’s after is in your pants."
"You're being ridiculous," Aemond muttered, trying to keep his voice low.
Y.N. caught a glimpse of Alys standing by the desk, the smug smirk on her face as if she were relishing the tension in the room.
That was it. She couldn’t take it anymore.
Without a second thought, Y.N. grabbed the bag of food she had brought for Aemond and threw it at him.
The containers hit his chest and fell to the floor, spilling sandwiches and chips across the carpet.
“Here,” she spat, her voice seething with anger. “I hope you both fucking choke”
Ignoring Aemond’s frantic calls of her name, she turned on her heel, pushing Jack’s pram out of the office as fast as she could, her heart pounding with fury.
Aemond stood in the middle of his office, wiping the food off his shirt with quick, agitated movements.
His eye flicked to the mess on the floor, the sandwiches and chips scattered across the carpet. Frustration gnawed at him, but before he could act on it, Alys approached, placing a hand gently on his arm.
“Aemond—” she began, her tone soft, but he immediately snatched his arm away, his patience frayed.
"Don't," he snapped, his voice cold and sharp. He moved quickly to grab his jacket from the back of his chair, already making his way toward the door.
Alys’s voice followed him, laced with confusion—or perhaps something more manipulative. "Where are you going?"
"After Y.N.," Aemond responded, his tone clipped. "I need to talk to her. I need to explain."
"Explain what?" Alys asked, her voice turning smug. "We were only talking."
Aemond halted, turning to face her fully, his eye narrowing with irritation.
"What are you even doing here, Alys? The clients I recommended to you are more than capable of keeping you busy. You don’t need my help anymore."
Alys smirked, a dangerous glint in her eye. "You’re right. I don’t need your help," she admitted, stepping closer. "I never really did"
Aemond’s frustration shifted into suspicion. His voice turned demanding. "What do you want, Alys?"
She gave him a slow, calculated smile. "I want you."
Aemond froze, his gaze hardening. "What?"
"I wasn’t lying when I said I missed you," Alys said, her voice sultry, as she moved closer to him, her hands grazing his chest.
“I’m not interested” snapped Aemond.
"I remember when you used to be interested."
Aemond immediately removed her hands from him. "That was then," he said firmly, stepping back. "This is now."
Alys wasn’t deterred. She leaned in, trying to kiss him, but Aemond pushed her away, more forcefully this time.
"I just want it to be the way it was," she said, a hint of desperation creeping into her voice.
"It will never be the way it was," Aemond said through clenched teeth, his temper rising. He couldn’t believe she had the nerve to push this after everything. "It’s over, Alys."
Still, Alys persisted. "We could be good together again, you know that. You felt it once—"
"Enough!" Aemond shouted, his voice booming with frustration. "Get it through your head—I don’t fucking want you. What we had is over." His words cut like a knife, leaving no room for misinterpretation.
Alys’s face twisted in anger. "So, you're choosing Y.N over me?"
"Yes," Aemond said, his voice steady and final. "I choose her. I will always choose her. Because I love her"
There was no hesitation in his answer, and that seemed to anger Alys further. She glared at him, her face contorting with bitter jealousy.
"Fine," she said, grabbing her coat with sharp, angry movements. "But that’s too bad. We could’ve had something special."
Aemond scoffed, crossing his arms. "I already have something special with Y.N. and Jack."
Alys moved toward the door, her expression icy. Just before she left, she turned to him, her voice low and venomous. "Not anymore, you don’t."
With that, she slammed the door behind her, leaving Aemond standing alone in his office, her final words lingering like a dark cloud.
As Y.N rushed out of Targaryen Inc, her vision blurred by tears, she barely noticed the world around her. Each breath felt heavy with the weight of betrayal.
She had wanted to surprise Aemond with something thoughtful, but instead, she’d walked into a scene that made her stomach turn. Alys, sitting close to him—too close. Her heart ached, and all she wanted was to escape.
By the time she reached the penthouse, Y.N was shaking. She hastily left a note and packed a bag for herself and Jack, not entirely sure where she was going, but desperate to leave.
With Jack bundled up and strapped into his pram, she left the penthouse, wandering the city streets. She hopped onto a bus without thinking, letting the rhythmic rocking carry her away from her thoughts, until she stood before a familiar black door.
The sound of music leaked through the walls, and she hesitated for a moment before ringing the doorbell.
The music paused, and moments later, the door swung open to reveal Aegon, shirtless and slightly dishevelled, clearly caught off guard.
“Y.N.,” he said, surprised to see her standing there.
Behind him, a girl lounged lazily on the sofa, eyeing Y.N. with vague curiosity.
Embarrassed and feeling out of place, Y.N. tearfully apologized, backing away. "I’m sorry for disturbing you. I should go—"
Aegon quickly stepped forward, gently catching her arm. "Hey, wait—what’s wrong?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concern as he quickly pulled on a T-shirt.
"It doesn’t matter," Y.N. muttered, tears threatening to spill again.
"It does matter," Aegon insisted, his voice firm yet kind. He turned to the girl on the sofa, gesturing toward the door. “You need to leave.”
The girl huffed, gathering her clothes and glaring at Y.N. as she passed by.
As soon as the door shut behind her, Y.N. broke down, the sobs she had been holding back finally spilling out.
Aegon didn’t hesitate—he pulled her into a comforting hug, hushing her softly as she cried into his chest.
“What happened?” he asked gently, rubbing her back as she tried to calm down.
Y.N. took a shaky breath, wiping her face with the back of her hand. “I went to surprise Aemond at work-and Alys was there.” Her voice broke, and Aegon cursed under his breath.
“That fucking idiot,” Aegon muttered, holding her tighter. He didn’t press her for more details, just let her cry it out until the storm of emotions passed.
“Can Jack and I stay here tonight?” Y.N. asked after a moment, her voice soft and uncertain. “I don’t want to go back. But he’ll come looking for me-”
Aegon quickly nodded. “Of course, you can stay. Don’t worry about him. If he comes round here, I’ll tell him you’re not here. And when Daeron gets home from work, I’ll make sure he keeps his mouth shut, too.”
Y.N. managed a small, grateful smile through her tears. “Thank you-and I’m sorry, again. I feel like I’m imposing.”
Aegon shook his head, giving her a comforting smile. “Stop apologizing. You’re not the one in the wrong—Aemond is. What the hell is he thinking?”
Just then, Jack’s soft cries filled the room, and Aegon released Y.N. so she could tend to him. She reached into the pram, but Aegon quickly offered to take the baby. “Here, let me.”
Y.N. handed Jack over, and Aegon rocked him gently, his touch surprisingly tender. “My brother needs to open his eye and see that harpy for who she really is,” Aegon muttered, rolling his eyes.
Y.N. let out a small laugh, despite herself. “You’re not wrong there.”
Aegon raised an eyebrow and grinned. “I’m serious. I’ve never liked her, and you know if I don’t like a woman, that’s a red flag. I mean, I love the ladies.”
Y.N. laughed again, this time a little more genuinely. “I know. Especially the married ones.”
Aegon shrugged with a playful smirk. “Of course. But Alys-she’s different. In all honesty I never really liked looking directly at her.”
“She’s not Medusa” Y.N. said, shaking her head.
“She might as well be,” Aegon shot back with a mock shiver.
After a few more moments, Aegon smiled and said, “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll sort us something to eat.”
Y.N. raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know you cooked.”
“I don’t,” Aegon admitted with a grin. “I’m ordering takeout. Will pizza be okay?”
Y.N. nodded, grateful to be here in this moment, with someone who had her back when she needed it most.
Y.N gently bathed Jack in Aegon’s bathroom, the warm water soothing her nerves as much as it did Jack’s.
He splashed playfully, his little hands reaching for her as she carefully washed him, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the heaviness in her chest.
After drying him off, she dressed him in his soft, blue pyjamas, his eyes beginning to droop as she cradled him in her arms. She fed him, rocking slowly, humming a quiet tune until his soft, rhythmic breathing told her he had drifted off to sleep.
She laid him in the middle of Aegon’s bed, arranging pillows around him carefully, making sure he was safe and comfortable.
The door remained slightly ajar, just enough for her to hear him in case he woke up. Stepping back into the living room, she felt a pang of guilt.
"I feel terrible for kicking you out of your own bed," Y.N. said, biting her lip.
Aegon waved a hand dismissively. "Don’t worry about it. I offered. Besides, I’m not exactly known for my chivalry—this is a rare moment for me, let’s not ruin it."
Y.N. chuckled weakly but appreciated the levity. She sank onto the couch, pulling out her phone.
Her breath hitched as she saw the screen flooded with notifications—30 missed calls from Aemond, and numerous text messages.
She scrolled through them, her heart twisting at the range of emotions. Messages declaring his undying love, apologizing profusely, followed by angry ones accusing her of taking Jack from him without any right.
The whirlwind of his emotions matched her own confusion.
"What are you going to do tomorrow?" Daeron asked, sitting down beside her.
Y.N. sighed, putting the phone down. "I don’t know. I really don’t. Part of me wants to talk to him, but after what happened today, I don’t even know where to start."
"You can stay here as long as you need," Daeron reassured her. "But-you know Aemond’s going to find out eventually that we’ve lied to him. And when he does, he won’t be happy."
Y.N. rubbed her temples, feeling the weight of it all crashing down on her. "I’m sorry to drag you both into this. I just needed to get away, and I didn’t know where else to go."
Aegon scoffed, lounging on the other end of the couch. "Screw him. We’ve all tried telling him about that bitch, but noooo-Aemond thinks he knows better. Now look where we are."
Daeron, ever the peacemaker, leaned forward. "Not to defend Aemond too much, but maybe he thought he was helping Alys out of some twisted sense of guilt—like making up for cheating on her."
Aegon rolled his eyes, his frustration palpable. "The guy’s an idiot. He’s letting this mess get in the way of what really matters”
Y.N. suddenly feeling overwhelmed, stood up "I’m going to bed," she murmured, offering them both a tired smile. "Goodnight."
“Night-” said Aegon and Daeron in unison.
Y.N. walked down the hallway, her heart heavy. She peeked into the bedroom, watching Jack sleep peacefully, oblivious to the storm swirling around them.
As she lay down beside him, she wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold everything together for just a little while longer.
The next morning, Y.N. woke early, fed Jack, and packed their things. As she stood by the door, she turned to Aegon and Daeron, offering a grateful smile.
"Thank you, both of you, for letting us stay over. But I think it’s time we head back to the penthouse. I’m going to take Jack for a walk in the park first, clear my head before I see Aemond."
Aegon, still lounging lazily in his chair, got up and walked over to her, pulling her into a hug. "You’re always welcome here, you know that" he said, giving her a wink. "But if you ever come back, I won’t give up my bed again. We’ll just have to share."
Daeron rolled his eyes. "Ignore him and regardless of what happens, we’ll still be there for you and Jack”
Y.N. gave a soft laugh and nodded. "Thanks again, really." She checked the straps in Jack’s pram and then wheeled it towards the door. "Goodbye, and take care."
As she left, the door clicked shut behind her, leaving Aegon and Daeron in the apartment.
Not long after, Daeron furrowed his brow and turned to Aegon. "Oh no, she forgot one of Jack’s toys."
Aegon picked up the small plush from the table, examining it.
"What the hell is this thing?" he muttered, turning the soft rabbit-like toy over in his hands. The ears crinkled when he squeezed them, making an odd sound.
"I don’t know," Daeron shrugged. "Right, I’ve gotta head to work. You good?"
"Yeah, yeah," Aegon waved, still scrutinizing the toy as if it held the answers to life. "See you later."
Just as Daeron grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, it swung open again—this time revealing Aemond, standing in the doorway.
His eye narrowed when he saw Jack’s toy in Aegon’s hand.
Aegon tried to hide it behind his back, but it was too late.
"Where did you get that?" Aemond asked, his voice tight.
Aegon stuttered, "Well, you see—"
"Was Y.N. and Jack here?" Aemond cut him off, his tone dark.
Aegon sighed. "Yeah, they were, but they left a little while ago. She didn’t know where else to go."
Aemond's expression turned furious. "When I rang you last night and asked if you'd seen her, and you said no—was she here?"
Aegon swallowed, glancing at the floor. "Yes, she was here. She slept in my bed—"
That was all Aemond needed to hear. Without warning, he punched Aegon in the face.
Aegon stumbled backward, landing hard on the floor, clutching his nose as blood began to flow.
"Did you fuck her?" Aemond bellowed, his voice full of rage.
Aegon groaned, sitting up slowly, blood dripping between his fingers. "No! I stayed on the sofa, you fucking arsehole-"
Aemond began pacing around the apartment, his hands running through his hair in frustration.
Aegon stood up, wincing as he gingerly touched his nose. He grabbed a nearby towel, pressing it to his face.
"You have no right to be angry," Aegon spat. "You’re the one who’s been hanging around with your bitch of an ex."
Aemond stopped pacing, his face tightening. "I was just trying to make up for what I did. But it was a mistake—a massive one. Alys-she tried to kiss me."
Aegon’s expression hardened, and without a second thought, he punched Aemond in the mouth.
Aemond stumbled back, stunned, as blood began to trickle from his lip.
"You moron," Aegon growled. "What the fuck were you thinking?"
Aemond wiped the blood from his mouth, still in shock from Aegon’s punch. "She tried to kiss me, and I pushed her away. I didn’t let it happen."
Aegon shook his head, disappointment clear on his face as he went to the freezer to grab some ice.
"You’re such an idiot. I’ve been telling you for years what she’s like"
Aemond stood there, blood staining his lips. "I know," he said quietly. "I know now that it was all a manipulation. She didn’t need my help with her business. She just—"
"—wanted to get back into your pants," Aegon finished for him. He shook his head, pressing the towel full of ice cubes against his bruised nose. "You only lost one eye, brother. How could you be so blind?"
Aemond’s shoulders slumped as he sat down heavily on the edge of the couch. "I’m an idiot ok" he admitted, voice hoarse. "I let her in when I should’ve known better."
"You’re damn right you’re an idiot," Aegon said with a bitter laugh. "You let that old bint back into your life when we all tried to warn you. And now, you’ve potentially lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you all because of your own stupidity."
Aemond closed his eye, running his hands through his hair again. He knew Aegon was right. And now, he didn’t know how to fix it.
As Aemond sat on the couch, staring down at the toy he had snatched from Aegon’s hand, a heavy silence settled between them.
Aegon, still pressing the towel full of ice to his swollen nose, finally broke the quiet.
"You know, I’m jealous of you," Aegon muttered, his voice low but steady.
Aemond frowned and looked up. "Jealous? Of me? Why?"
Aegon let out a tired chuckle. "Because of Y.N."
Aemond's expression darkened, and his jaw clenched. "What are you saying?"
Aegon raised his free hand, waving off his brother’s suspicions. "No-I’m not into her like that. It's the way she loves you, Aemond." He looked away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "The way she looks at you-it’s something else. I’d give anything for a woman to look at me the way she looks at you. There’s this—" He struggled to find the right words, "—devotion in her eyes. And she brings out the best in you, even if you’re too blind to see it."
Aemond’s face softened slightly, and he allowed a faint smile to tug at his lips. "Maybe if you stopped chasing unavailable women, you'd find someone like that."
Aegon huffed a laugh. "Yeah, maybe. I was actually trying to get with someone last night, if you must know. But then Y.N. came over and interrupted." He shrugged, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement.
"And you helped her instead," Aemond remarked, his tone shifting to something more serious.
"Of course I did," Aegon said, looking at his brother with a surprising sincerity. "I like her—no, not in that way. But I wanted to make sure both her and Jack were safe”.
Aemond sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Thank you, Aegon."
Aegon nodded, leaning back against the counter. "You’re welcome. But I don’t care what you have to do. You better make it up to her. She’s good for you, Aemond. You two belong together. Don’t be the fool who throws it all away."
Aemond stood, taking a deep breath. "You’re right. I need to fix this." He paused, glancing at the door.
"Yeah," Aegon replied, standing straighter. "She mentioned she was taking Jack for a walk in the park and then heading back to the penthouse”.
Aemond started towards the door, but Aegon called out to him. "Hey, one more thing."
Aemond stopped and turned, raising an eyebrow. "What?"
Aegon smirked, his usual playful self returning. "You should ask her to marry you."
Aemond froze for a moment, considering the weight of Aegon’s words.
Slowly, he nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Maybe I will."
Aegon grinned, his smirk widening into a mischievous grin. "Because then she’d definitely shag me."
Aemond took a deep breath before he charged at his brother. Aegon dodged out of the way, laughing loudly as Aemond began chasing him around the table.
"You little—!" Aemond shouted, but despite his frustration, there was a smile creeping onto his face as Aegon kept laughing, the tension between the brothers momentarily broken by their banter.
"Too slow!" Aegon called out, still running, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.
For just a moment, the heaviness that had hung over them lifted, and despite the mess Aemond needed to fix, he felt a flicker of hope. He wasn’t going to let Y.N. slip away—no matter what it took.
Aemond wandered through the quiet streets, his mind racing. He desperately wanted to see Y.N. and Jack, to hold them both close and promise he would never let his stupidity come between them again.
But he knew he had to give her time—to get back to the penthouse, to settle Jack, and most of all, to calm down. As much as he wanted to rush to her side, he knew that right now, patience was key.
She was the love of his life, and the thought that he might have jeopardized everything made his chest tighten.
How had he let it get this far? It was easy to blame Alys, to paint her as the villain in his mind, but deep down, Aemond knew the truth—it was his own fault.
His misguided sense of duty, his foolish belief that he could make up for his past mistakes by helping her, had led him down this path. He should have left the past buried.
As soon as Alys had reached out, he should have told her to get lost. Instead, he had let her manipulate him, and now Y.N. and Jack were suffering the consequences.
He clenched his jaw, his hands balling into fists as he walked. Alys’s motives were clear from the beginning, and he cursed himself for not seeing them.
But the damage had been done. Now, all he could do was hope—pray, even—that Y.N. would give him the chance to make things right.
He loved her, more than he had ever loved anyone, and the thought of losing her, of losing their life together, sent a sharp pain through his chest.
As he rounded a corner, his steps slowed when he came to a stop in front of a jewellery shop. His eye caught on the glittering rings displayed in the window, and for a moment, he allowed himself to close his eye and imagine.
He pictured Y.N. in a beautiful wedding dress, walking towards him with that radiant smile she always wore when she looked at him. His hand reaching for hers as they exchanged vows, their kiss sealing their promises as they became husband and wife.
But was that future even possible now? Or had he ruined it beyond repair?
Aemond let out a heavy breath, running a hand through his silver hair. He had thought about proposing to her before, but now-was it even right to consider it?
Would she still want a life with him after everything that had happened? After the hurt he had caused?
He wasn’t sure, but he knew one thing—he had to try. He couldn’t give up on them, not when he loved her with every fibre of his being.
Aemond stepped into the penthouse, his heart immediately dropping at the sight of a suitcase by the front door. Jack was fast asleep in his pram, his small chest rising and falling peacefully.
Aemond's gaze shifted from his son to Y.N., who sat on the sofa, nervously fiddling with her fingers, her face pale and her eyes distant.
His voice cracked as he asked, "Are you leaving me?"
Y.N. looked up at him, her expression torn. She took a deep breath and nodded slowly. "I think it's for the best”.
The words pierced through him like a blade, and Aemond felt his knees weaken. In an instant, he was in front of her, kneeling on the floor with his head resting in her lap, his body shaking with quiet sobs.
"Please don’t leave me," he choked out, his voice thick with desperation. "I’m so sorry, Y.N. I thought I owed it to Alys, after everything that happened, but I was wrong. I see that now. I made a terrible mistake, and I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. Please, please don’t go."
Y.N. hesitated, her hands trembling as she slowly stroked his hair. But then, gently, she removed him from her lap and stood up, forcing a shaky breath as she wiped her eyes.
"I need to think, Aemond. I need to figure out what’s best for me and for Jack."
Aemond rose to his feet, his desperation mounting as he cupped her face in his hands, peppering soft, frantic kisses across her cheeks, her forehead, her lips. "I love you," he whispered, again and again between kisses. "I love you more than anything. Please, just—just stay. Let’s work this out."
Y.N. closed her eyes, letting her forehead rest against his for a moment as the pain of the situation overwhelmed her.
"I love you too, Aemond," she whispered, her voice heavy with emotion. "But I need space. I need to think about what I really want”
Aemond’s breath hitched, but he nodded, knowing he couldn’t push her any further. He backed away slightly, his eye red and pained.
He turned to Jack, still peacefully sleeping in his pram, and pressed a tender kiss to his son’s forehead.
"Be good for your mummy," he whispered softly, brushing a finger over Jack’s tiny hand.
With that, Aemond walked to the door and held it open, his heart breaking with every passing second.
Y.N. pushed the pram through the door and glanced back at him one last time, her suitcase in hand, her eyes filled with sadness and uncertainty.
“Goodbye Aemond-”
As soon as the door clicked shut, Aemond collapsed against it, sliding down to the floor until he was sitting with his back against the wood.
His head fell into his hands as the weight of it all came crashing down. Silent sobs wracked his body.
He had lost them both—And it was his own fault.
TBC
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Vigilante's Lullaby |Part Four|
cw: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Jason Todd, GN!Reader, Descriptions of violence, physical assault, blood and injury, hurt no comfort
Summary: Jason's world is one of violence and darkness, but you’ve always been his light—until a brutal attack leaves you broken, targeted by his enemies. Now, Jason spirals into a storm of rage and guilt.
Word count: 3.4K
A/N: Hi loves!! I’m so sorry for the long wait in regard to this series---trust me I was getting antsy about not posting LOL---Also, life's gotten a bit hectic with grad school and to top it off some health concerns arose. Please send positive vibes my way <3 And finally, there will be ONE more part to Vigilante's Lullaby...right now I'm hoping to have that up by this weekend! As always...comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated <3
| (Part one) | (Part Two) | (Part Three) | (Masterlist) |
The night had settled in thick, suffocating the underground clinic with its heavy silence. You had grown accustomed to this darkness, to the underbelly of Gotham, where your makeshift clinic had become a sanctuary for those the world forgot. The hum of fluorescent lights flickered above, casting uneven shadows on the walls as you worked. Your patient tonight was fidgety, eyes darting nervously toward the door every few minutes, as though he expected something terrible to happen.
You noticed the way his hands trembled slightly, how his breath came in quick, shallow bursts. "Hold still," you murmured, pressing a piece of gauze to the wound on his shoulder. He winced, though his gaze never left the door.
Something was wrong.
Your heart began to race, an instinctive warning creeping up your spine. You tried to push the fear down, to focus on your work. But the clinic felt too quiet, the air too thick. The patient glanced at you, guilt etched across his face, as though he knew something you didn’t. And then, before you could speak, the door to the clinic was kicked in with a deafening crash.
Your heart lurched in your chest, adrenaline spiking in an instant as the room filled with harsh voices, boots stomping across the floor like an army storming the gates. Men—big, armed, and menacing—flooded into the room, and at the front of them, a man you had seen only in Jason’s descriptions. One of his worst enemies. His rival.
Panic surged through you, your mind racing to Jason. They weren’t here for you. They were here for him. But Jason wasn’t there, and you were.
The leader of the group, a tall, scarred man with cruel eyes, glanced around the clinic with casual indifference, as though the place was beneath him. His gaze flicked over the supplies, the blood-stained bed where you worked, before finally settling on you. His smile was slow, predatory.
“Look at what we have here,” he drawled, his voice thick with malice. “Jason’s little pet.”
You stood frozen, your heart pounding in your ears. “You don’t have to do this,” you said, your voice betraying the tremor of fear.
He chuckled, a dark, humorless sound. “Oh, sweetheart. We’re just sending a message. You know how it is. Jason’s been a little... problematic lately. Time for him to learn there are consequences.”
The men closed in around you, their presence suffocating, their intent clear. There was no escape. You didn’t even have time to brace yourself before the first blow landed.
The attack was brutal.
Fists collided with your body, knocking the air from your lungs, the force sending you crashing to the ground. A boot followed, connecting with your ribs with a sickening crack. Pain radiated through you, blinding and intense, but they didn’t stop. They wanted to break you—break you so completely that the message would be clear when Jason found you.
You tried to fight back, tried to crawl away, but they were relentless. One of them grabbed you by the hair, yanking you to your feet only to throw you against the wall. Your head hit the surface with a nauseating thud, your vision swimming as the world tilted dangerously. Blood filled your mouth, the metallic taste flooding your senses as you gasped for breath.
The leader crouched down in front of you, his face a mask of sadistic satisfaction. “Tell him,” he said softly, his voice almost gentle in its cruelty. “Tell Jason that this is only the beginning.”
And then he was gone, leading his men out of the clinic as quickly as they had come. The door slammed behind them, the sound echoing in the now-empty room. You lay there, broken, blood pooling around you, your breaths shallow and labored. The pain was unbearable, your body a mass of throbbing agony. You knew you were fading, consciousness slipping from your grasp like water through your fingers.
But you held on.
You held on for Jason.
---------------------------------------------------------
Jason arrived hours later. He had been gone on a mission, something he hadn’t told you much about, but you knew it was dangerous. He had promised you he’d be back, had kissed you hard before disappearing into the night like he always did.
But as he stepped through the door of the clinic, his heart stopped. The familiar scent of antiseptic and blood hit him first, but there was something more—something wrong. He froze, his breath catching in his throat as his eyes swept the room. And then he saw you.
You were crumpled on the floor, barely recognizable beneath the blood and bruises. The sight of you like that—broken, lifeless—was more than his mind could process. His world tilted, his stomach dropping as a scream tore from his throat, raw and primal. He ran to you, dropping to his knees beside your limp body, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch you, afraid you might shatter beneath his fingers.
“No...” His voice cracked, the word barely audible over the sound of his own frantic breathing. “No, no, no—”
He pressed his hands to your face, his fingers slick with your blood. Your eyes fluttered open, weak and barely there, but it was enough. You were alive. Barely, but alive. Jason’s heart twisted in his chest, the sight of your bloodied, broken form like a knife to his soul.
He couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. All he could do was hold you, trying to stop the bleeding, trying to fix this, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t fix this.
“Stay with me,” he pleaded, his voice desperate and hoarse. “Please, just stay with me. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry—this is my fault. This is all my fault.”
Tears burned his eyes, but he refused to let them fall. He couldn’t break. Not now. He had to save you. He had to save you.
But you were slipping away. He could see it in your eyes, in the way your breaths grew more shallow, more ragged. And it was killing him.
Jason felt something inside him snap. The guilt, the fear, the rage—it all surged through him like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. His vision blurred with red as he pressed your body closer to his chest, his teeth gritted in a mixture of pain and fury.
“They’ll pay for this,” he whispered, his voice cold and dark, like the promise of death. “I’ll kill them. I’ll kill every last one of them.”
But even as the words left his lips, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough to undo this, to take away the pain they had caused you. The weight of his failure crushed him, his heart breaking in ways he hadn’t thought possible.
You had warned him. You had told him this would happen. And now, because of him, because of his darkness, you were paying the price.
Jason rocked you gently in his arms, his grip tightening as if he could keep you with him through sheer force of will. “Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Please don’t leave. I can’t do this without you. I need you.”
But he knew, deep down, that this wasn’t something you could come back from. Even if you survived, even if you made it through the night, the damage was done. And it was all because of him.
Jason’s hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms until they bled. The rage inside him burned hotter than ever before, threatening to consume him entirely. He had been so close to losing you, and now all he could think about was revenge. He would find them. He would make them suffer for what they had done to you.
But no matter how much blood he spilled, it wouldn’t change the fact that he had failed to protect you. That his love had been the very thing that had put you in harm’s way.
And as the night stretched on, as you lay in his arms, barely clinging to life, Jason felt himself slipping further into the abyss. The darkness had claimed him long ago, but now, it was pulling him down into something deeper, something darker.
And he didn’t know if he’d ever find his way out.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
The night had bled into early morning, but for Jason, time had lost its meaning. It was all a blur now—a feverish haze of blood and vengeance. After carrying your battered body to the safest place he knew, ensuring the bare minimum of medical care, he had slipped back into the shadows, leaving you with nothing but the echo of his promise.
And that promise had been simple: he would make them pay.
Now, as he moved through Gotham’s underworld with a grim purpose, the memory of your broken form seared into his mind, fueling his every step. The streets were colder, darker, and crueler than they had ever been before. The city itself felt like it had turned against him, as if it, too, wanted to remind him of his failure.
The faces of those men swam before his vision, their laughter still ringing in his ears, mocking him. He saw the scarred leader’s face in the dark recesses of his mind—the sneer, the satisfaction in his eyes when he’d threatened you. Jason’s rage was a living thing, gnawing at his insides, screaming for release.
They would suffer. They would all suffer.
His first target was easy to find. A low-level thug, one of the cowards who had thrown the first punch, was holed up in a seedy bar on the outskirts of the city. Jason stalked him like a predator in the night, his body moving on instinct, driven by a singular, relentless purpose. When he finally cornered the man in the alley, there were no warnings, no preambles.
Jason moved like a ghost, silent and deadly, his fists connecting with the thug's face before he even had time to register his presence. The crack of bone echoed through the narrow alleyway as Jason’s knuckles met the man's jaw, sending him sprawling into the trash-strewn ground.
“Red Hood—no, no, wait—!”
The man’s plea was cut off as Jason dragged him up by the collar of his jacket, slamming him against the brick wall with enough force to make his skull bounce off the surface. Blood splattered across Jason’s armor, staining the emblem on his chest.
“Where are they?” Jason’s voice was low, deadly calm, but his eyes—his eyes burned with unrestrained fury.
The thug whimpered, clutching at Jason’s wrist with shaking hands. “I don’t know, man, I don’t know anything!”
Jason’s grip tightened, the leather of his gloves creaking under the pressure. His other hand shot forward, slamming into the man’s abdomen, driving the breath from his lungs in a strangled gasp. “Wrong answer.”
He pulled the thug closer, his lips curling into a snarl. “You attacked her. You’re gonna tell me where the others are, or I’ll make sure you never breathe again.”
There was no hesitation in his threat. Jason’s eyes glinted with something cold, something feral. The man was terrified—Jason could see it, feel it in the way the man’s pulse quickened under his fingertips. But there was no mercy left in him. He didn’t care about their fear. All that mattered was making them suffer, making them pay for what they had done to you.
“Okay, okay!” the thug rasped, panic making his words stumble over each other. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk! They’re at the docks—the old warehouse by Pier 47. That’s where they’ve been hiding.”
Jason let him drop, watching with disgust as the man crumpled to the ground, coughing and clutching his ribs. For a brief moment, he considered finishing it—ending the thug’s miserable life right there. But no. The real target was the leader. The one who had smiled at your pain.
Without another word, Jason disappeared into the night, leaving the man gasping for air as his blood stained the alley.
The warehouse was exactly where the thug had said it would be—a decrepit old building at the edge of the docks, the faint sound of waves crashing against the pier, the only noise breaking the silence. Jason approached from the shadows, his every sense heightened, his heart pounding with the promise of vengeance.
Inside, he could hear the low murmur of voices. Laughter. It grated on his nerves, fueling the fire in his chest. His hand clenched around the grip of his gun, the metal cool against his skin. He hadn’t planned to kill all of them—but now that he was here, surrounded by the stench of betrayal, it seemed inevitable.
With a swift motion, he kicked in the door, his guns drawn before the men inside could react. Chaos erupted in an instant. The thugs scattered, reaching for their weapons, but Jason was faster, more precise. He fired off shot after shot, the sound deafening in the enclosed space. Each bullet found its mark, dropping the men one by one before they had a chance to fight back.
But Jason wasn’t there for them. He was there for him.
The leader was in the back, smirking as though he’d expected this. His eyes gleamed with that same cruel satisfaction, as if Jason’s fury was all part of the game. “You came for them huh?” he said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Too bad. they weren't worth much after we were done."
Jason’s blood turned to ice.
Before the man could react, Jason was on him. He tackled him to the ground with the force of a hurricane, his fists slamming into the man’s face with brutal, unrelenting precision. Blood splattered across the floor, staining Jason’s gloves, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. The rage inside him was too much, too consuming. Each punch felt like a release—a release of the guilt, the helplessness, the anguish that had been eating him alive since he found you.
The man beneath him choked on his own blood, his hands scrambling to defend himself, but it was futile. Jason was a storm of violence, every hit fueled by the image of you lying broken in his arms.
“You think this is a game?” Jason snarled, his voice a low, vicious growl. “You think you can touch them and walk away?”
His fists kept coming, each one landing with sickening force. The man’s face was unrecognizable now, a broken, bleeding mess, but still Jason didn’t stop. Not until the man was nothing more than a pile of blood and shattered bone beneath him.
But even as he stood, panting, blood dripping from his hands, there was no satisfaction. No sense of victory. Only emptiness.
Jason stared down at the corpse, his chest heaving with the weight of his rage. He had killed them. All of them. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
You were still lying in that hospital bed, broken because of him.
As he walked away from the carnage, the darkness around him felt deeper, colder. There was no light left to chase. Not without you.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Jason stood at the edge of the docks, the wind whipping harshly against his bloodied face, cold and biting like the emptiness gnawing at his soul. The bodies of his enemies lay behind him, nothing more than a grim reminder of what he was capable of, of how deep his darkness ran. The waves crashed violently against the pier, matching the storm in his mind, but none of it mattered. Nothing mattered anymore.
He had avenged you. He had done what he set out to do, torn through Gotham’s underbelly like a hurricane, leaving nothing but blood and broken bones in his wake. But here he stood, staring out at the endless expanse of the night, and all he could feel was the weight of his own failure, his own curse.
This is who you are.
The thought slithered through his mind, dark and insidious, clinging to him like the stench of death that hung in the air. He was a weapon—a blade forged in violence, tempered by vengeance. He’d tried to be more, tried to find something good in this wretched existence. He’d tried to find you.
But Gotham wouldn’t let him have that. His life wouldn’t let him have that. No matter how many times you’d held him, how many times you’d tried to be his salvation, he had always known it would end like this. With blood, with pain, with you hurt because of him. It was inevitable.
He had warned you. He had tried to push you away. But you stayed. You had loved him, and that was your downfall. Now you were paying the price.
And for what? What had he gained? Revenge? Satisfaction? No. All that was left was the bitter taste of regret and the sickening realization that it didn’t change anything. It didn’t heal you. It didn’t fix what was broken inside him. Nothing could.
He stared down at his hands, still trembling with adrenaline, his knuckles raw and split from the beating he'd given that bastard. They were the same hands that had held you, that had clung to you like a lifeline in the darkness. Now they were stained with the blood of men who had hurt you—but it didn’t matter. Their deaths couldn’t undo the damage.
Jason’s breath hitched, his throat tight as the memories of you lying in his arms, barely breathing, surged forward. The way your blood had soaked into his clothes. The way your eyes, usually so full of warmth, flickered with pain and fear. All because of him.
He was cursed.
He could feel it in his bones, in the marrow of who he was. He wasn’t meant to have happiness. Not with you. Not with anyone. The darkness would always come for him, always tear apart anything good that came into his life. It had destroyed him once, and it would do so again—piece by piece.
And now… now he was standing on the precipice of his hardest decision yet.
Jason clenched his jaw, staring out at the water, his mind spinning with the weight of it. He could go back to you, watch over you as you recovered, try to piece together whatever shattered remnants of your life he hadn’t yet destroyed. Or he could let you go. He could walk away. He could vanish into the night, leave you to heal without the poison of his presence lingering in your life. Because this—what had happened to you—would only happen again. It would never stop.
His heart screamed at him to stay, to fight for the slim chance that you could somehow survive his curse. But deep down, he knew the truth. You would never be safe with him. And the worst part was, he didn’t know if he could live with the knowledge that he would destroy you again.
The decision loomed before him, dark and final, like the city itself—a grim reminder that no matter what choice he made, he had already lost.
Jason turned his back to the warehouse, to the blood-soaked night that had claimed his enemies. His eyes burned as he looked toward the horizon, but the emptiness inside him remained. He had never truly escaped the shadows. He never would.
And now, as the cold wind howled around him, he realized this was only the beginning of his end.
The city would continue to take from him. It always had. There was no peace for someone like him. No future where the people he cared for didn’t bleed in his name. No future where he wasn’t haunted by the bodies left in his wake.
But you—you still had a chance.
He would make his choice soon. The hardest one he’d ever made.
But in his gut, Jason knew. He knew that whatever he decided, happiness wasn’t meant for him. The darkness had already claimed his soul, and it wouldn’t rest until there was nothing left.
With one last look at the city, Jason disappeared into the night, his decision lingering on the horizon like a storm waiting to descend.
And when it did, the person Jason Todd used to be would be lost forever.
taglist: @arisa191 @leo-lvr @azrielwingspan
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broken memories pt. 4
3.2k words
-> sequel to kinda tempting
featuring -> mat barzal x female reader x matt rempe
warnings -> mentions of loss of pregnancy/miscarriage
genre -> angst/suggested smut
After you’d posted the official statement to the Rangers socials, a flood of messages began pouring in. Your phone was blowing up to the point you couldn’t keep track. Many of Matt’s teammates had come to find you at the practice facility to offer their condolences, none of them having a clue as Matt never shared the news. Wanting to wait until you felt ready to tell everyone.
Your boss offered for you to head home early, figuring there was a lot on your mind and wanting to give you the afternoon to yourself. Which you didn’t feel was needed, however she insisted on it when you tried to protest.
Upon returning to your apartment, you’d found several floral arrangements had been delivered for you. The front desk of your building had held them all until you’d gotten home, then brought them up for you and left your kitchen island looking like a floral shop.
Looking through the cards you’d felt so much love and gratitude for everyone that had sent them. Despite it having been a little over a month now, you still had days that were harder than others. So now that you’d been able to share the news, and let people in on things, it made the weight on your shoulders a bit less heavy.
As you made it to the last floral arrangement, you’d found a card that was not one you expected to see. It was from Mat. The message leaves you a bit confused as you put it back on its peg in the arrangement. It wasn’t to offer his condolences about the loss, it was rather him reaching out to see if you’d thought any further about the conversation you’d had the other night. Then proceeding to tell you that he loved you, and always would. You weren’t sure whether or not you should throw out the flowers or smash the vase on the floor. The last thing you’d wanted to deal with today was anything other than the fallout of your announcement. Knowing that Matt would soon be coming over and you didn’t want to bother him with the situation.
You opted to place some of the flowers around your apartment, then naturally you pulled out your computer to get some more work done. With the season gearing up you couldn’t afford to fall behind, so you were backlogging content to ensure you’d have plenty of things to post daily. By the time you’d finished editing a few Tik Toks and Instagram Reels, it had been almost three hours. Matt was now walking in the door, his hair still damp from practice as he smiled seeing all the flowers that still sat on the island.
“Wow, did you decide to quit your job and become a florist?”
You smirked at him as you put your laptop away, walking over to give him a hug and a kiss before you started on dinner.
“Yeah, there’s honestly this one player on the team I can’t stand, Rempe is his name. Not sure if you know him? So I decided to just quit and work with flowers.”
He laughed as he looked at each of the arrangements, glancing at the messages of condolences and support from so many people.
“How are you feeling? My phone has been blowing up, kind of shocked to see how many people were reaching out. And people who have gone through similar things you know?”
You nodded as you prepped a pan for some chicken, then searched the cupboard for all the necessary spices.
“It is nice to feel like we aren’t alone. I honestly was a bit overwhelmed by it all. But I was really touched by the love and support everyone is showing for us. And for all the flowers, like holy shit!”
Both of you laughed as Matt went back to the flowers, smelling them and inspecting the different ones he’d never seen before.
“Y/n, what’s this?”
You glanced back at him as you finished setting the chicken into the pan. Squinting a bit as he held up one of the cards, unable to see anything that was written on it. Shrugging your shoulders as you didn’t want to state the obvious, but you weren’t sure what to tell him.
“A note?”
“From Barzal? You can’t be serious?”
You dropped your fork on the counter as you quickly tried to protest, wishing you would’ve tossed the card in the trash but it had clearly slipped your mind.
“Matt, listen. Let me explain, because it’s not what you think.”
“Hope you had a chance to think over our conversation from the other night. It’s always been you, I love you so much. I always will. Are you fucking kidding? Why am I never going to be good enough for you? Here I thought I’d finally been chosen by you, and he’s right there in the background trying to steal you away again. I’m always going to be second to him aren’t I?”
You watched Matt as he paced the floor, soon slumping onto the couch as his head rested in his hands. His body held tight to itself as he shook his head. His mind raced as he tried to make sense of it all.
You hated hearing him speak so negatively about himself, especially when none of the things he was saying were true. You were in no way putting him second or choosing anyone over him, but you could see how the note made him feel that way. And no matter what you said or how hard you tried to explain, you knew he wouldn’t believe you right now. These feelings clearly still present for him despite the fact you two had begun rebuilding things.
“Matt, please. If you just let me explain, you’ll understand that is not what’s happening.”
Matt pushed away your touch, pacing the floor as he tried to decide whether or not it was worth opening up about this. Despite the two of you working on starting over, his insecurities about not being good enough would always remain.
“Look, I get it. The way things began with us, wasn’t normal or how it should have happened. And certainly you getting pregnant wasn’t planned. But my feelings for you have never wavered, and I wake up everyday knowing that it’s you. Not because of a baby, not because of anything other than I want to be with you. Despite everything, it’s only you y/n. And the fact that he is still in the background, trying to be with you, I can’t win!”
Matt grabbed the flowers from the vase Mat sent you, tossing them to the ground as he needed to channel his frustrations somehow.
“Yeah I’m jealous. Sure I’m insecure. Because I’m never first choice, I never have been okay? So I’m sorry that for once I thought I was good enough to be someone’s first choice. And if you don’t feel that way, then why did we bother starting over?”
You were speechless, tears in your eyes seeing how upset he was. Not knowing that he still felt like there was even a chance you would leave him for Barzal. To know he had always felt like the second choice, or that he wasn’t worthy of being with you, it broke your heart. And before you could respond, he was grabbing his things to head for the door.
“Matt, wait please!”
But he was gone without another word, leaving you to regret not having just simply thrown out the note from Mat. You headed back to the kitchen, tending to the food on the stove that was close to overcooking. Though now your appetite has come and gone, simply packing up the food before retreating to your bedroom for the night.
-
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, maybe an hour or two, but you were jolted awake by the sound of knocking at your door. Checking the time, you questioned who would be there at almost midnight. Surely it wasn’t Matt, he had a key.
Slowly making your way to the door, you were shocked to see Mat Barzal on the other side. Reluctant to open the door you hesitated, questioning whether this was a good idea. Especially after the fight you’d just had with Matt over the note, you didn’t want any more drama to stem from Barzal stopping by.
Though curiosity got the best of you, and you’d unlocked the door, slowly opening it to see Mat standing there with a relieved smile on his face.
“Hey, I wasn’t sure you’d come to the door. Can I come in?”
Nodding your head you moved to the side, letting him in as he scanned the tens of flower arrangements on your counter.
“Wow, my flowers must not have seemed as meaningful to you today huh?”
His sarcastic tone caught you off guard as he almost seemed annoyed, clearly he hadn’t seen your post today or else he’d understand.
“Yeah, sorry I lost a baby and now your flowers don’t mean as much as the ones sent with condolences Mat.”
He looked to you confused, then realizing you must have finally made a statement, immediately cursing himself for being such an ass and making it about him once again.
“I’m sorry, truly. That wasn’t right to say. Of course these flowers were more meaningful to you right now.”
His eyes scanned the arrangements before finding a bundle of flowers on the floor, his heart sinking as he realized they were the ones he’d picked out.
“But it seems like you didn’t like them regardless.”
A soft chuckle left his lips as he bent down to pick them up, tossing them in the garbage as you could feel your frustration building by the second. Still unsure why he’d come all the way to your apartment if it were just to cause issues.
“Why are you here Barzal? If it’s to be an asshole then leave. It’s not the day for this.”
He was a bit caught off guard by you calling him by his last name, something you only did when you were angry with him.
“You didn’t text or call, I wanted to see if you’d gotten the flowers and my message.”
“Oh I got it, and your flowers ruined everything. So thank you so much, I love them!”
You crossed your arms over your chest as you looked to him for anything further, but he was unsure what to say. Not expecting to come here and argue. In his mind he’d planned on you telling him you thought about everything and wanted him back. Because that’s how Mat’s brain worked, that he was number one always. Everyone always picked him, folded for him and gave in. But he could see that wasn’t the case with you anymore.
“Where is this coming from? Don’t tell me you’re actually picking him? Did our relationship mean nothing to you? I broke off my engagement for you y/n! It’s always been you for me, and this is how you treat me?”
“I didn’t ask you to do that! You did that all by yourself. And no, the cheating on me meant everything to me. It ruined me. It pushed me away and I’m sorry but whether I did the same thing back to you, I will never look at you the same. I’ll never choose you. I can’t.”
Mat’s mind was racing, he couldn’t fathom you not choosing him. To be turned down by the girl he thought he could always run back to, it was a deep cut to his ego.
“Because you two were going to have a baby? After a one night stand? You just throw everything we had away for Rempe? I don’t understand how you could pick him over me y/n!”
“Because I love him!”
The words hadn’t even registered in your mind before you spoke them, catching yourself off guard as much as you’d caught Mat in the same position.
“Oh really? You love him?”
Mat took a step closer to you, his eyes scanning your face to try and read your thoughts. Not thinking as he acted on his impulse, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he crashed his lips to yours. Your hands immediately came up in protest, pushing against his chest to get him away from you. Followed by your hand striking him across the cheek, letting him know you were serious.
“Yes, I love him. With my whole fucking heart. I am choosing him, and I will continue to choose him every single day from now on. Because he isn’t going to treat me like you did. He’s selfless, kind, loving, understanding. He doesn’t expect me to melt at his feet and fold for him like you do. He feels like the luckiest man every single day to have me by his side. Something you took for granted the day you chose to cheat on me. So yes, I love him. And it’s always going to be him. Now get the fuck out.”
Without another word Mat headed for the door, speechless as he took one last look at you before you’d shut and locked the door behind him. Retreating back to your bedroom, checking your phone for a text or call from Matt, but nothing. You could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the thought of losing him for good this time, after finally realizing how much he truly meant to you. Not bothering with it being almost one in the morning, you typed out a quick text before plugging your phone in.
I know you probably hate me, I’m sorry. But I promise, I will always choose you. I love you.
-
The sound of your apartment door unlocking startled you, but you’d quickly calmed down as you knew it could only be Matt. Your heart skipping a beat as you were relieved he’d come back, telling you that he wasn’t too mad to stay away. Soon enough his tall frame was in the doorway of your bedroom, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight that was shining through your window. His chest was rising and falling quickly, likely due to the fact he’d sprinted upstairs from the parking garage.
“Did you mean it?”
His voice was soft as he slowly made his way over to you, seeing that your eyes were beginning to fill with tears. Your emotions getting the best of you as you were happy to know he’d come back, his words not registering in your brain.
“What?”
He sat on the bed next to you, taking your hand in his as his thumb slowly brushed over the skin.
“Your text, did you mean it?”
All you could do was nod your head, Matt inching closer to you as his hand made its way to your cheek. His touch sent chills down your spine as his lips now hovered over yours, teasing you ever so slightly as his eyes held contact with yours.
Before you could apologize again for earlier, his lips crash onto yours. His hand tangled into your hair as the other pulled you into his lap. The two of you fought one another for control as Matt moved so his back was resting against the headboard. A smirk on his lips as he could sense how eager you were for his touch, your text message still vivid in his mind. The idea that you’d chosen him, that you only wanted him, it excited him in the moment even more.
His hands held your hips as he grinded you down against him, not embarrassed about the growing erection that was beneath his sweatpants. A smile on your lips as you let out a soft giggle at the feeling, though you loved knowing he was turned on by you. His hands roaming your body before pulling your lips back to his. The kiss now more intense than before, his tongue slipping past your lip as he took control, but did his best to keep things soft.
This wasn’t about getting right to sex in his mind, it was about taking his time to savor the first fuck after you confessed your love for him. And he couldn’t wait to hear the words fall from your lips. He knew the moment you’d said the words to him, he would be like putty in your hands.
“Can I hear you say it? Please?”
He voice was breathy as he smile at you, his hands moving to play with the hem of your oversized tshirt that had now rode up on your thighs. Exposing your skin to him as your ass slightly peeked out from under the fabric, resting firmly in his lap against his cock that was painfully needing its escape from his sweats.
You smiled down at him, brushing his hair from his face as your fingers traced his features. Your thumb brushing over his bottom lip before stealing a kiss, your hands resting at the back of his neck as you looked down at him.
“I love you Matthew Rempe. So fucking much. Today, tomorrow, and the next day after that. It’s you, I choose you. And no one else.”
Without warning he quickly flipped you over, now hovering over you as he laughed at the small shriek you’d let out at his action. His hips grinding into you as his lips kissed from yours down to your neck, pulling up your shirt to kiss down your chest until he reached the string of your thong.
Looking up at you his smile faded, a more serious look on his face as he hooked his fingers under the string of your thongs. Slowly pulling in down your legs and tossing it to the side, his sweats soon followed suit before he’d found his place above you again.
Your hand slipping between the two of you to help guide his cock to your slit, the two of your letting out a soft moan as he’d slowly thrusted into you.
“Fuck, Matt.”
Gripping his biceps he’d waited for you to adjust to him, his thrusts slowly starting as he felt you ease up on your grip. Your legs instinctually wrapping around his waist to pull him closer, his arms now resting on either side of your head as his lips met yours, swallowing your moans as he’d begun to pick up his pace.
Fingers tangling in his hair as his lips moved to your neck, kissing and biting at your skin as he could feel your pussy clenching around him, letting him know you were slowly reaching your peak. But he didn’t want this to end so quickly, needing to take his time and be sure to love every inch of you. To show you how much he loved you and needed you. His thrusts ceased as he brushed your hair from your face, his thumb brushing over the skin of your cheek as he smiled down at you.
“You make me the happiest man in the world. And I promise to never make you regret choosing me. I love you so much.”
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