#he looks way younger than i meant him too :/. but we can just say this is how he is in my karnate au since he IS younger there | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

celandeline · 4 months ago

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The Throne Was Meant For Us, My Dear

Aemond x Targaryen!Reader, mostly canon compliant (yes, people are still dying/getting maimed), heavy on the smut, incest (they are targaryens, obv), a little angst

9.5k words (buckle up)

You were born at the end of a long summer’s day, just as the last sliver of sun was sinking below the waves of the bay. Your sister was born on the same day, just after the sun had completely disappeared below the horizon. Twin Targaryen girls, Helaena and Jaenara, the second and third of Alicent Hightower’s children.

The summer has always held a special place in your heart - not only because of your nameday, but because of the way the heat of the day lingers in the air long after the sun has set. The sound of a warm breeze as it rustles through the courtyard flowers, spreading the lovely floral scent. The feeling of the sun on your skin - the taste of fresh fruit grown outside the city. You’ve always loved the summer. You love it especially now, the only thing making this godforsaken funeral bearable.

Next to you, Aegon snags two more glasses of wine from a passing serving girl, handing one to you with a limp wrist and a sigh. He downs half his glass in one long draught. “I don’t understand why Helaena.” He grumbles, gesturing to where she sits on the ground with his glass, the wine sloshing inside. “If I must marry at all, why not you?”

You take a long sip from your own glass, leaning back against the store railing overlooking the sea. Driftmark, while much more drab than the Red Keep, has one thing going for it - the pleasant smell of salt in the air, and the sound of the waves against the shore. “Our mother thinks that if we were to be wed, I would enable you.” You say.

Aegon snorts, finishing off his drink. “As if Helaena will do anything to stop me from my hedonistic desires.” He jokes, quoting Alicent. “If it’s not to do with grasshoppers, it’s not to do with her.”

You neglect to snicker along with him, simply pressing your lips to the rim of your glass as you watch your dear sister pass a spider back and forth between her hands, muttering under her breath. She’s always been something of a dreamer, your Helaena, something the rest of your family doesn’t seem to notice. But you, always in tune to your sister from the moment you were born, know. Threads of omniscience run through her mutterings, though deciphering them sometimes is beyond you.

“Some could say the same about you, with wine and whores.” You say, glancing knowingly at Aegon. “We all have our compulsions - some worse than others.”

“I only jest.” Aegon says, defensive. You can tell he’s getting drunker, his movements becoming more loose, his words louder.

“Hm.” You finish your glass, setting the empty cup on the railing beside you. “Is it truly in jest if you are the only one laughing?”

“Perhaps it is better that I marry Helaena instead of you.” Aegon says, leaning close enough that you can smell the wine on his breath. “You do have a way of inciting my annoyance, Jaenara. No, I do not think you would make a good wife.”

You lean even closer, all too ready to play Aegon’s game. Your teeth scrape over his ear as you retort, “No, you’ve always liked the ones who won’t fight back, haven’t you?”

The tension breaks as Aegon laughs, tossing his head back as he steps away, putting a respectable amount of distance between you again. You chuckle as well, until another voice - softer, younger - cuts through your chortling. Aemond.

“What’s funny?”

Aegon, not subtle at all, rolls his eyes. “Nothing.”

“We were just discussing Aegon’s betrothal.” You say, shifting so that Aemond can lean against the railing beside you. You’ve never understood Aegon’s disdain for your baby brother - something your nephews seem to share. “Or rather,” You cast a joking look to Aegon. “Aegon was complaining about it.”

“‘Tis your duty.” Aemond says, ever so serious.

Aegon rolls his eyes again, gesturing widely at Helaena. “Look at her.”

“Aegon-” You start.

“I would do my duty, if only mother had betrothed us.” Aemond retorts.

Aegon flaps a hand. “The both of you.” He dismisses, eyes scanning through the thin crowd. “I’m going to get more wine.” And with that, he’s gone, sliding between chatting relatives in the wake of a serving girl, chasing after the wine she carries.

You place a hand atop Aemond’s head with a sigh, gently carding it through the silky silver hair there. “He can be such an ass, our brother.”

Aemond looks up at you with a thin smile. “Mm.”

The blood on your hands is not yours, but your brothers, smeared across your forearms from when you’d clutched his face in your hands, holding closed the gash across his eye with your thumbs as the maester stitched the wound back together. Now, he smears tears and snot across the bodice of your gown, the good side of his face pressed against the thin fabric of your nightclothes as he clutches you with shaking hands.

Your mother is screaming. Aegon is huddled against the wall of the room, no doubt already suffering a hangover from how much he drank. Helaena stands to your left, her eyes fixed on the wall behind the scene before her, gaze absent. You watch in horror as your mother wields a knife against Rhaenyra, spitting insults like venom. Ser Cole is pressed almost chest to chest with Daemon. Your little nephew, Lucerys’ face is bloodied.

You have no idea what happened. But Aemond is missing an eye. And Vhagar is now his dragon, instead of Laena’s daughters. You knew - known, now - that his lack of a dragon had always been a sore spot for Aemond, but you never would have guessed that he would go to such drastic measures to claim a beast of his own. And Vhagar, no less.

You expect him to cry, to whimper in pain, to react, but he just holds onto the gauzy fabric of your nightdress and keeps the unmarred side of his face pressed close to your chest. Hiding, almost.

You soothe a hand down his back, pressing him closer. “It’ll be alright.” You say, your voice lost amongst the carrying on. It won’t be. He’ll be scarred forever, he’ll have to re-learn how to walk, how to write, how to do anything that requires vision. It’ll take him years to recover fully.

“I know.” He says, voice soft. Level. Even.

And it’s his calm reassurance that makes you believe your own words. It will be alright, one way or another.

Hand in hand, you walk your brother through the halls of the Red Keep, towards the training yards, for his swordsmanship lessons. Servants and nobles alike avert their eyes as you pass, some out of respect, some out of disgust. It’s true - the scar across Aemond’s face is nothing delightful to look at, a motley of yellow and purple swollen skin, the scabs leaking pus. But you do not look away. He is your brother, and he receives enough torment from Aegon already.

He clutches your hand tightly, holding it like a bannister as he puts one foot in front of the other, his good eye steadfastly looking ahead. Sometimes his balance sways (especially around turns or on the steps) but he’s getting better. “You’ll be able to come and go as you please again soon.” You say, not bothering to hide the pride in your tone.

He scoffs. “I can’t stay a cripple forever.”

Aemond was never sweet. But the loss of his eye has only soured him more. You roll your eyes, teasing, “You’d do well to save your bitterness for someone who’s not capable of causing you to fall down the stairs at a moment's notice.”

It’s supposed to be a joke, but he doesn’t laugh. “Apologies, sister.” He mumbles.

You sigh. “I only joke, Aemond.” Aegon has ruined him, picking at all of his insecurities without remorse until he bristles at the slightest hint of humor, thinking an insult is coming.

His good eye shifts away from the hall in front of him for a moment to cast you a sidelong glance.

“Not all of us are Aegon.” You insist, rounding the corner with him to step outside into the afternoon sunlight. Ser Cole is already waiting, whirling his sword from hand to hand idly as Aegon straps himself into his practice armor. Aemond lets go of your hand as soon as he sees Aegon, taking shaky steps onto the field proper, alone.

Aegon pays him no mind, his gaze falling on you. “Jaenara. Come help me.”

“Your lack of manners is appalling.” You say, walking over to him anyway, taking the leather straps of his breastplate from him and tightening them over his shoulders. “What would mother say?”

Aegon just grins. “Meet me tonight.” He says, his voice dropping into a more conspiratorial register. He doesn’t have to say where - you’ve snuck out with him before. You know the route. “A traveling troupe has arrived in Flea Bottom, supposedly.”

“Sunset?” You ask, dropping your hands from the straps on his shoulders to the ones near his waist.

“Mm.” He watches you work, still grinning.

“Alright.” You say, stepping back.

His grin widens into a smile as he twirls his sword. “What fun we’ll have.”

The sun has begun to light the sky when you stumble back into the Red Keep with Aegon, giggling under your hoods as you sneak past the white cloaks back to your chambers. Really, it can barely be called sneaking anymore - you know they see you return, you know they saw you leave. The only reason they don’t trail you through the streets of the city is because Alicent doesn’t know, and hasn’t ordered them to, so why do the extra work?

You sway into Aegon’s shoulder as you walk, all the wine that you drank making your head spin. Taking you by the arm, he only makes it worse as he begins to waltz you down the hall, jauntily humming the same tune you’d been dancing to in a tavern earlier. Laughing like a fool, you tip your head back and let him dance you about, until he deposits you against the wall by your bedroom door, caging you in against the stone.

You know he’s going to kiss you - he always does, at the end of the night. Gently, he presses his lips to yours, and you smile into it. He doesn’t kiss you like he kisses his whores - nor do you kiss him as you do yours. It’s a chaste thing, only a moment before you’re both pulling back to look at each other.

“As sweet as wine.” He whispers.

“Mm.” You bite your lip in a grin. “Goodnight, Aegon.”

“Good morning.” He giggles, pushing away from the wall to stumble back to his own bed.

You slip into your own room, dropping your cloak and dress from your shoulders, one after the other, as soon as you are inside. Just in your shift, you turn to flop into the soft comfort of your bed, only to see a lump under the covers that wasn’t there when you left. Slowly, you peel back the sheets to reveal Aemond, face pressed into your pillow, soundly asleep.

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips as you climb into bed beside him, doing your best not to disturb his slumber. He stirs anyway though, good eye cracking open with a jolt, softening when he realizes it’s you. Extending an arm, you make space for him to curl up against your chest, and he does, tucking his face under your chin.

“You were with Aegon.” It’s mildly accusatory, but mostly sleepy.

“Mm.” You don’t deny it, stroking a hand through Aemond’s hair. “And you were here. In my bed.” You press your nose to the top of his head. “What troubles you, Aemond?”

“My eye.” He says. “The pain. It’s more than just the skin, it… it stabs me through the skull, sometimes. Makes it hard to fall asleep.”

“We will see the maesters in the morning.” You say, still gently stroking. “Perhaps they will be able to come up with some tincture to soothe you.”

He lets out a sleepy little hum, and settles more against you. Your own eyes flutter shut, and your stroking hand moves to wrap around his shoulders instead. It’s quiet, for a while, and for a moment you think he’s drifted off, but then,

“Will you take me with you, once?”

“To Flea Bottom?”

“Mm.”

You pause for a moment. “If you wish. Perhaps when you’re a bit older.”

“How old?”

“At least as old as I was when Aegon first took me with him.”

“And how old was that?”

You smile into his hair. “Give it a year.”

“Mm. Alright.”

The quality of Aemond’s eye improves drastically over the course of a year, so that by the time he dons his own cloak and takes to the streets of King’s Landing with you and Aegon, it almost blends into his face. The scar is a long pale thing that trails down his cheek, and the only part of the injury that escapes the eyepatch. Under the shadow of his hood, it’s barely noticeable.

He trails a half-step after you and Aegon, clearly unsure. You don’t blame him, it’s quite a change from within the walls of the Red Keep, but an exhilarating one at that. Arm in arm, you and Aegon lead the way, moving smoothly through the crowds to one of your favorite haunts, a little brothel tucked away near the edge of the city.

You can hear the sounds of pleasure emanating from within before you even step foot in the building, and the area around the door is crowded with hangers-on, men who can’t pay their whores dues. Aegon pushes through them all easily, and you glance back to make sure Aemond isn’t lost before following him inside.

The place reeks of incense, barely covering the smells of sweat and sex, but it’s familiar to you. On instinct, your eyes scan the crowd of the main chamber, searching for your favorite whore, a beauty named Falyse with long lashes and plump lips. You can feel Aemond pull closer to you in the presence of such debauchery, and you glance down at him again, to find him already looking at you.

“This is a brothel.” He says.

“Aye.” You grin, glancing at Aegon.

Aegon smiles wide, clapping Aemond on the shoulder. “Tonight is the night that you become a man, brother! Your first taste of the best pleasure the world can offer.”

Catching sight of a familiar shock of black hair, you turn, meeting Falyse’s eyes through the throngs of men. “I must take my leave.” You say, petting Aemond’s head. “But you are in good hands with Aegon. And I won't be far.”

“Alright.” Aemond says. He’s still unsure, clearly, but there’s no time for hesitation once Aegon’s swept Aemond up in his frenzy. You slip away, weaving through the writhing bodies until you reach the other side of the room, where Falyse is pouring a glass of wine for another patron. She’s barely clothed, so you can feel the goosebumps that rise when you snake an arm around her middle and rest your chin on her shoulder.

“Princess.” She greets you with a sultry purr.

“My lady.” You return, laying your lips in the junction of her neck. “I’ve missed you so.”

She’s quick to pull you away from the main room, behind a thick curtain to an empty bed. It’s a familiar dance that you do - she makes a show of ridding you of your clothes, running her soft hands up and down your body until you’re dripping. Then she lays her mouth on you - her wonderful mouth that could pull honey from even the most stalwart of noble women. She never lets you rest with only one peak, no she delights in working as many from you as she can, until you’re pushing her away. Then it’s your turn to return the favor, licking at her until her sweet moans fill the air and you can feel her clenching around your tongue. You’ve earned her devotion in that way - on more than one occasion, she’s confessed that no man has ever thought of her pleasure, on their own.

“Well, I am no man.” You’d responded.

It’s an exhausting affair, this dance, so it often ends with you curled around her on the bed, listening to her share the latest gossip of the smallfolk whilst you twist her hair into intricate braids, the kind only Targaryens wear, a sign she’s been with royalty. You’ve just finished your handiwork, laughing along to a story about the smallest cock she’s ever seen, when the curtains part, and Aemond slips into the room, clearly close to tears.

Immediately you sit up, paying no mind to the fact that you’re completely bare. “What’s wrong?”

Holding back tears, he hesitates for a moment before climbing into your lap, pressing his face between your breasts with a shaky sigh. You clutch him to you, guilt and regret sinking into your heart. Too young. He’s always been more sensitive than you, or Aegon, you should have waited to include him in your revelry. Too young, too young.

Falyse sits up as well, raising a questioning brow. You shake your head, and run your fingers down your brother’s back. For a while, the room is silent as Aemond’s breathing calms, and then he pulls his face away, sliding out of your lap to sit next to you instead. Looking down, he hides behind long curtains of hair, but not before you catch a glimpse of his expression. Shame.

Gently, you break the silence. “Aemond, this is my friend, Falyse. Falyse, my dear brother.”

Falyse smiles warmly, peering underneath Aemond’s hair. “A pleasure to meet you, my prince.”

“You must tell him what you were telling me.” You say. “Oh, it’s hilarious, Aemond, you must listen.”

He perks up slightly, as Falyse starts her story again - and she does get him to laugh, but the hurt doesn’t leave his eyes, and the guilt begins to pool in your stomach.

The sapphire is weighty in the pocket of your gown, and bounces heavy against your leg as you rise from the dinner table, dipping your head towards your father before you take your leave, following your siblings out of the hall. Aemond’s nameday feast was a small affair, per request of the prince, and he only received books from both of your parents - leatherbound histories of Valyria that look entirely too large in his little arms as he carries them back to his bedroom.

“Aemond.”

He turns at the sound of your voice, and you pluck one of the books from his hold, tucking it under your arm. With your other hand, you pull the sapphire from your pocket, and hold your closed fist out to him. “Here.”

Looking at you curiously, he holds out a hand, and you drop the sapphire into it. “A sapphire.” He says.

“For your eye.” You explain. “I had the masons fashion it so that you can slide it into the socket. I thought it might suit you.” Jokingly, you add, “And perhaps improve your standing with the court ladies.”

He huffs out a little laugh, examining the gemstone with a careful eye. “Thank you Jaenara.”

You smile, reveling in the first laugh you’ve won from him in a very long time.

Ser Cole and Aemond behind you, you lead them through the streets of Flea Bottom in the early morning light. It feels like a bit of a betrayal, showing them all of Aegon’s usual haunts, but the situation is dire, and your brother needs to be found. Your father is dead, and it was his dying wish, your mother said, for Aegon to be king.

The brothel looks different in the daylight, drab and empty. Gathering your skirts in one hand, you bound up the steps to the door and bang the heavy knocker twice on the wood. With any luck, you can get a hold of Falyse - if Aegon was here last night, she will let you know, free of charge.

It is not Falyse that answers the door, but the brothel Madame, Sylvi. A familiar face to you, albeit one that you have not had the pleasure of knowing under more intimate circumstances. Her eyes scan over your face, and then Aemond and Cole behind you. Stooping into a short curtsy, she asks. “And what can I do for you, my lady?”

“I am looking for my brother.” You say.

“He seems to be behind you-”

“My other brother. Aegon.” You clarify. “Was he here last night?”

“I’m afraid not.” She says.

You turn back to face your companions. Cole sighs, glancing around the streets like he might spot Aegon passed out in the mud. Aemond’s eye is on the Madame, a mixture of contempt and something else stirring in his gaze.

“Where else, then?” Cole asks.

“I don’t know.” You wrack your mind, tracing through all of the taverns and brothels you frequent with your brother, all places that you’ve stopped before arriving here, all with the same result. “This was the last place I could think of.”

Cole swears under his breath.

Aemond breezes back down the steps, his mouth set in a determined line. “He must be somewhere. Come, we will try the fighting pits next.”

You murmur your thanks to the Madame before following after Aemond and Cole, worry sinking into your gut. Leave it to Aegon to get swallowed up by the city when the realm needs him most.

Meleys’ breath washes over you as you stare down the dragon’s maw, expecting to see the glow of fire any moment, signaling your end. There is no time for action - in the few seconds you would have before flame reached you, there is no way you could reach your own dragon, Vermithor, to have any hope of combatting Rhaenys. Instead, you grasp Helaena’s arm and try to ignore how your hands shake.

Aemond steps in front of the both of you, obscuring your view of Rhaenys atop her dragon with one hand on his sword. As if something as feeble as that will do anything against a dragon.

You wait, feeling your sister with whom you shared your mother’s womb tremble underneath your grasp.

You wait, watching Aemond’s shoulders rise and fall with each breath in front of you.

You wait, watching as your mother steps in front of Aegon, one hand wrapped around his wrist like a vice.

A tidal wave of relief floods through you as Rhaenys pulls at the reins, and Meleys backs off, slipping through the doors of the dragonpit just before they swing closed, casting the room into semi-darkness. Alive. You’re alive - as is Helaena, and Aemond and Aegon. All of you, alive. You watch your mother almost fall to her knees as the relief washes through her, and then you are wrapped up in Helaena’s arms as she crushes herself to your chest. You return the hug with vigor, your eyes finding Aemond’s over her shoulder.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

Something is happening. They’ve been locked in the small council chamber even since Aemond returned from Storm’s End. It’s been hours since your brother dismounted Vhagar, soaked to the bone and looking more shaken than you’ve ever seen him. You have no idea what happened, or what’s being discussed. Now, more than ever, you curse not being born a man.

Still, there is nothing to do but wait.

So you do, steeping in the burning hot waters of Aemond’s bathtub, idly flipping with damp fingers through a series of poems you’d found in your great-grandfather Jaehaerys’s saddlebag when you’d claimed his dragon. Some of them you recognize as things he’d copied from other poets, some are his own musings about his wife, Alysanne. He wasn’t half bad, in your opinion.

You snap the booklet closed as the door to the bathroom opens, and Aemond slips inside, still dressed in his soaked riding leathers. He stills when he lays eyes on you, obviously not expecting anyone to have been waiting for him. But you just smile, and set your book aside.

“I had them draw a bath.” You say. “I figured you would want a soak, after flying in the rain. Scalding, of course.”

He smiles, and starts on the buttons of his overcoats, the fabric falling to the floor with a wet slap. His trousers are next, and then his eyepatch, set on top of your book before he slides into the bath behind you with a sigh, his head falling back against the edge of the tub.

“Very thoughtful of you, sister.” He says, eye fluttering shut.

“Mm.” You turn around in the tub, collecting a rag that you’d draped over the side and dipping it into the hot water, beginning to run it over his skin that isn’t submerged. For a moment, the only sounds are the echoes of droplets falling back into the tub as you wash him, until you speak again. “What business kept you in council so long?”

A tension settles in his jaw. “Lucerys Velaryon was also at Storm’s End.”

“You failed to win their allegiance?” You ask, surprised.

“No. Lord Borros was easily won when I promised myself to one of his daughters.” You brother opens his eye. “But Lucerys is dead, at my hand.”

You set the rag aside, your mind spinning. Lucerys, dead. As if things weren’t already pointing towards all out war after your father changed his mind about the succession. “How?”

Something in his expression shifts and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to burst into tears. “Vhagar.” He says, his voice cracking slightly. “I only meant to scare him, but she knows my anger… I cannot pretend that I did not fantasize about killing him. I did not think that she would…” He swallows, collecting himself. “Our mother is less than pleased with me.”

“Our mother could never understand the bond between dragon and rider.” You say, consoling. You lay a hand gently on his face, over his scar, and run your thumb under the sapphire that sits in his eye. “You cannot be blamed for your anger at the boy who maimed you. Vhagar cannot be blamed for sharing that sentiment.” You pause. “It is a regrettable accident. And I am sorry for Rhaenyra and her children.”

He takes a shaky breath before wrapping his arms around your middle, and pressing his face into your shoulder, holding you to him as tightly as possible. Already wet from the bath, the few tears he sheds onto your skin make no difference. You say nothing, but pick up a comb from the short table beside the tub and begin to work it through his hair.

You wake up to a sharp pain in the side of your neck, like the skin has been sliced open. One hand flies to the wound, and the other slips under your mattress, pulling the long dagger you keep there free of its sheath in a smooth motion. You sit up, the knife brandished before you, only to find your bedroom empty, the only motion being that of the curtains fluttering from the breeze of your open window.

You pull your other hand away from your neck, expecting to see blood. Your palm is blank, the skin unmarred. In the reflection of your blade, you inspect your neck, only to find nothing. A phantom wound, perhaps from a dream. Anyone else would have simply gone back to sleep. But this is not the first time you and your sister have shared each other’s injuries.

You rise quickly, knife still in hand as you dart from your chambers, heading down the hall at a quick clip. It’s eerily empty - not a white cloak in sight. Something is wrong, you’re sure of it, the echo of your footsteps on the stone only serving to further put you on edge as you approach the nursery. The door stands ajar, flickering candlelight seeping out into the hall from within.

Slowly, carefully, you peer around the door. The room is empty - silent. The door creaks as you edge your way inside, turning to glance at the children’s beds. It is then that you see it - the headless body of your nephew, blood still seeping out of the stump of his neck into his bedsheets. Your blood runs ice cold, and then burning hot as rage fills you. Your gaze drops to the blood spatters on the floor, little droplets lead out into the hall.

Readjusting your grip on your dagger, you break into a sprint, following the trail.

Your bare feet slap in harsh rhythm against the stone, your eyes flicking back and forth from the floor to the hall in front of you as you follow the blood splatters. It is too late now. Jaehaerys is dead already, but you have to do something, you must. You can see candles being lit as you whip past door after door, the Keep slowly waking as the horror sets in, but you do not stop.

You do not stop even when you turn an ankle as you round a corner, because there he is, a tall man in a hooded cloak, a burlap sack tightly clutched in his hand, blood dripping through the fibers. Stumbling, you push yourself back up with your hands, and with a mighty scream, leap at the mans back, knocking him forward.

The bag tumbles to the ground, and Jaehaerys’ head rolls out, jaw slack and eyes wide.

“The fuck-” The man growls, knocking you from his back. You fall to the ground, but force yourself to your feet again, diving forward, your dagger poised to strike. Bigger and stronger than you, he grabs your wrist, bending the bone until it snaps. Tears flood your vision as the pain washes over you, but you do not stop. Gritting your teeth, you drive your dagger into the soft skin of his side, between where his ribs end and his hips begin.

He groans, releasing your wrist, and you leap at him again, clawing at his face as you sink your teeth into the side of his neck, biting as hard as you can. You can feel the blows he’s raining on you, but you hold on, savoring the taste of his blood as it floods your mouth, coppery and strong. His hands wrap around your broken wrist, and you wail again, your voice muffled by his skin in your mouth.

But then there are hands around your waist, and the clank of armor fills your ears. Two white cloaks tackle the man to the ground as Aemond pulls you from his grasp, pressing your back to his chest.

“Kill him!” You shout, eyes locked on the man as the guards beat him into submission before hauling him up to his feet. “Kill him!”

“Jaenara.” Aemond’s voice is low in your ear. “The maesters…”

You try to shake him off, but your brother doesn’t relent, gently steering you away from the guards and little Jaehaerys’ head on the floor, back into the relative calm of the halls. As the adrenaline fades, pain begins to wrack your body in waves, and you find yourself leaning against Aemond as tears fill your vision.

“Helaena,” You gasp, chest heaving as sobs build up in your throat.

“With Cole, and our mother. Jaehaera, as well.” Aemond assures you.

“They,” You say, working around the lump in your throat. “Put a knife. To her throat.” You bring your fingers up to the side of your neck, where the pain had awoken you. “Here.”

“I’m sure she’s being tended to.” He says. Gently, he pulls your arm up, inspecting your wrist, bent at an odd angle and already starting to swell. “We must tend to you too.”

Too exhausted to insist that there are more important things to be dealt with, you let him steer you along.

You watch little Jaehaerys’ body bounce with the movement of the carriage in front of you, slightly obscured by the mourning veil you wear. Helaena sits beside you, pressed between you and your mother, eyes firmly pointed up at the sky. She’s empty, you can feel the echo of it in your own body, as you’re sure she can feel a hint of the festering anger you yourself are harboring.

It will only be a matter of time now, before you don your armor and mount Vermithor for battle. You pity the fool who will fly to meet you.

The wails of the smallfolk fill the city streets as you pass, petals filling the air as they toss handfuls at the carriages, shouting their grief in harmony. The news of Jaehaerys death had swept through the city like fire, just as your grandsire had suggested it would. Now, more than ever, the smallfolk hated Rhaenyra - there would be no public protest of the war that was brewing.

But you cannot help but feel angered by the whole thing as your little nephew’s body shakes with the movement of the carriage in front of you. To be reduced to a martyr, at such a young age. And knowingly, by his own kin. It is an ugly, ugly thing.

Helaena’s eyes finally drop from the sky, and your mother shifts, extending a hand to touch her arm. Helaena shrinks away instinctually, leaning further into you, and you shift, allowing her to press herself against your side, her head falling into the crook of your neck.

You do not need to speak to know what she is thinking. You rest a hand on the back of her head, and let her curl into you, feeling her heartbeat against your own.

“Cole and I will cut them off entirely.” Aemond says, laying another marker on the map, over Rook’s Rest. “And with Rhaenyra confined to Dragonstone, it should be simple enough to take Harrenhal without interruption.”

You let your gaze sweep over the map, stopping at each marker Aemond had put down. “A clever plan.” You agree. “And Aegon also approves?”

Aemond scoffs at that, leaning back in his chair, the light from the fireplace dancing over his face. “What does it matter?”

“He is the king.” You say simply, lifting your gaze to look at your brother. “It is his war that we fight.”

“He is a figurehead.” Aemond says, rising from his seat to circle around the table, coming to stand behind you. “At the hands of our mother and grandsire. His only purpose is to lend them free reign.”

“He is our brother, and liege lord.” You say, standing from your own seat and turning to face him. “You speak treason, Aemond.”

“Mm.” Aemond hums, eye drifting over your face. “I forget, sometimes, that you are partial to him.”

“He is my brother.” You repeat. “And my Helaena is his wife.”

Silence permeates the room, and for a moment, the only sound is that of the crackling fire. But Aemond’s soft voice breaks through again. “Did you ever let him fuck you?”

The question takes you aback, and you laugh. “What?”

“In all your whoring together, did you ever let him fuck you?” He asks again, unwavering.

“No.” You say. “I have no taste for his particular flavor of depravity.” Not that Aegon ever tried, either. That wasn’t - isn’t - the nature of your friendship.

“Hm.” Aemond hums, turning back to the map sprawled across the table. “Vermithor will be needed to secure the Riverlands.” He continues, like the discussion never strayed from battle in the first place. He leans over the map, tracing a long finger over the stretch of the reach.

“Of course.” You agree, confused.

It’s been too long since you last did this.

Wine flowing through your veins, you walk arm in arm with Aegon, leading the way to the old brothel, his friends and squire - the reason for the night - behind you. The crowd parts as you step through the brothel doors, a hush falling over the gathered patrons. The quiet only lasts for a moment before whispers take its place, hushed words about the king himself being a patron tonight.

Aegon, of course, pays these whispers no mind, dropping your arm in favor of grasping his squire by the shoulders, speaking grandly about the pleasures of manhood. It makes you think of a similar night many years ago, when you’d brought Aemond to this very brothel. Guilt floods you for a moment, but is quickly quelled when soft hands wind over your shoulders, and a sultry voice whispers in your ears.

“Princess.”

You turn, delighted to see Falyse - delighted enough, that with the wine already in you, you plant a wet kiss to her lips before resting your forehead against hers. “My sweet lady, my own heart.” You croon. “It has been far too long.”

She laughs, raspy and seductive, her eyes crinkling at the edges with her smile. “I did not know that all three of you would be joining us tonight.” She says, winding her arms about your shoulders. “Just like when you were younger.”

“Mm.” You find yourself agreeing before her words really register. “Wait, three? Is Aemond-?”

But it’s too late, you know it is as soon as Aegon’s raucous laughter booms through the room. You turn away from Falyse, finding your brother amidst the crowd, having abandoned his squire in favor of sinking next to Aemond on a bed, a wide grin crawling over his face.

You can’t make out what he’s saying, but you can see Aemond shrinking in on himself, curling away from the Madame, who he’d been laying with. Winding Falyse’s hands away from your shoulders, you bring her knuckles to your lips, pressing a kiss there. “Another time, my lady.”

“Of course.” She says, understanding flashing across her gaze.

You push through the gathered patrons towards your brothers, but Aemond meets you halfway, stalking through the crowd naked as the day he was born, clearly fuming. He pauses when his eye falls on you, clearly not having expected you to be here as well, and you watch his lip tremble ever so slightly. But he does not cry.

“Aemond.” You say, unsure how to broach the subject.

“Jaenara.” He returns, icy.

A pause stretches between you, and Aemond turns to leave, but you grab his arm, stopping him. “Come back home with me.” You say.

You think he’ll spurn you, hiss some insult that’s more for Aegon than for you, but he sighs, “Fine.”

He does not speak to you until you stand at his bedroom door. You feel as though you should say something, apologize on Aegon’s behalf in some way, but you don’t get the chance before Aemond is beckoning you into his chambers with a quiet, “Come.”

You do, not realizing what he wants until the door is shut behind you and you’re pressed against it, your brother's lips pressing insistently into yours. You only hesitate for a moment before kissing him back, giving him what he wants. He melts into it, softening as he realizes that you won’t reject him, cradling you into his arms.

When he pulls back, his voice is breathy. “I’m going to kill him.”

It sends a spike of fear through you, thinking of one brother killing the other, but the look in Aemond’s eye leaves no room for doubt. “I’m sure you will.”

Apparently the correct answer, Aemond resumes kissing you with a fervor, steering you away from the door and towards his bed. “I’ll kill him,” He says, rushed between kisses. “And without an heir, I’ll take his place.” His hair tickles the side of your face as he presses his nose into your neck. “Make you my queen, as he had Helaena.” He nips at the thin skin, making you hiss in pain, pulling at his hair.

He lifts his head as he pushes you down onto his bed, crawling over you. “You’re betrothed to another.” You say as he begins to pull at the laces of your dress.

“As are you.” He responds. You bat his hands away from the laces as soon as you hear fabric rip, and begin undoing them yourself. “Both empty promises made by our grandsire for armies.”

You shimmy out of your overdress, and kick it off the edge of the bed, left in your shift. Aemond strips himself of his shirt before tugging at the hem of your slip, urging you to take it off as well. Before long, you’re both naked, and he’s hovering over you again, trailing his nose along the swell of your breast. You take the opportunity to free him of his eyepatch, enjoying the glitter of the sapphire you gave him.

His eye finds yours as he quietly asks, “Will you let me?”

As if you really even have a choice in the matter. “Yes.”

That’s all the permission he needs to lift your hips with one hand and slide his cock into you with the other. You wrinkle your nose as the sting of the stretch as he works himself into you, his eye fluttering shut. With a deep groan, he begins rocking himself in and out, grinding into you slowly. It’s not the most pleasure you’ve ever felt (no, he would be hard-pressed to compete with Falyse), but it isn’t unpleasant.

You relax into the bed as he begins to fuck into you in earnest, whimpering to himself as he takes a breast in his mouth, lost in your body. You suppose you should have expected something like this, eventually. It was odd, that he’d asked if Aegon had ever fucked you, but you hadn’t thought that he himself wanted to. Now, his intentions in asking seem obvious.

He releases your breast with a pop before tucking his face against your neck, words trickling directly from his lips to your ear. “My Jaenara…” He moans. “Always so good to me. So kind, so sweet, so fierce. Hm.” He pants heavy, his hips knocking against yours frantically. “Seeing you covered in that mans blood, the chunk you ripped out of his neck with your teeth… my dragon.” He croons.

You wind a hand into his hair, wincing as your wrist twinges in pain. It’s gotten better under the maester’s care, but it still complains when you move it in certain ways. The pain vanishes quickly though, and you begin to stroke Aemond’s hair just how he likes, pressing your lips to his temple.

He whimpers again, almost like he’s in pain. “I will put us on the Iron Throne.” He swears, voice breathy. “Our dragons will burn Rhaenyra and her armies alive, and it will be our line that continues the tradition of our ancestors.” He all but growls it, snapping his hips with such force that you have to stop yourself from slamming into the headboard. “I swear it to you.”

“Aemond.” You gasp, overwhelmed with the vigor of his thrusts. The last thing you would have expected was for Aemond to get you to peak, but you can feel yourself getting closer, the combination of his rough fucking and devoted words stirring your insides.

“Tell me that you are mine.” He says, demanding and begging at the same time. You can feel him losing his rhythm, pleasure no doubt creeping up on him the same as it is for you.

“I’m yours.” You swear. “I’m yours, Aemond.”

He whimpers, and it’s the whining sound that sends you over the edge, your body tensing in his hold as you clench around him. With a loud gasp, you come, and Aemond’s thrusts reach breakneck speed.

“You’re mine.” He whispers in your ear. “Mine, mine-” He comes with a rough groan, pressing his hips to yours and holding them there. He sinks into you immediately, collapsing onto your chest, his breath coming in pants against your skin.

You bask in the quiet of his room as his cock softens within you, mind spinning as you take in what just happened. “Did you mean it? All that you said?” You ask softly, stroking his hair again.

“Mm.” He affirms, sleep heavy in his voice.

You say no more as he drifts off to sleep on your chest, cock still inside you. He intends to make you his queen. To kill Aegon and take his place.

You love Aegon, you do. He is your brother, and one of your closest friends. But you would be lying if you said he was a good king. Perhaps it would not be so bad, if Aemond were to take his place, especially with you at his side.

But does Aegon really deserve to die?

Aemond is insatiable now that he knows you won’t spurn his advances. You can’t say that you mind too much.

Your elbows resting on the table before you, he takes you from behind as you both pore over a map of Westeros, markers indicating where your forces lay. A letter from Ser Cole sits open on the table beside you, informing Aemond of his most recent conquest as he nears Rook’s Rest. You run your fingers against the wood of the table, moving pieces along the map like chess, the sounds of Aemond’s breathy groans and the rustle of your skirts shifting as he takes you the only sounds in the room.

“You will have to - ah - take flight on Vhagar soon then, if you are to meet Cole at Rook’s Rest.” You say.

“Hm.” Aemond’s hips smack into yours as he leans over your back, moving the piece that symbolizes Vhagar to the edge of the crownlands. “The conquest should not take more than a day. Any longer and I would send Aegon in my stead - I would be loathe to leave you.” He jokes, pressing his nose against your neck.

“Mm.” You hum, letting him stretch you further across the table and angle your hips to better receive his thrusts. Planting his hands on your hips, he pulls you back to meet each snap of his hips, the map forgotten as he pleasures himself with your body. There’s something intoxicating about his unwavering devotion, something rewarding. It feels like all the time you spent comforting him as a child is paying off; after all, he intends to put you on the throne. You wind a hand behind you to caress his cheek.

He melts into the touch, extending his body over your back, pressing himself to you completely. It’s intoxicating, the power you have over him. The simplest of touches, the softest of words, and the most fearsome dragon rider in the world bends completely to your will.

“You must tell Aegon of your plans.” You say, laying your head down on the table to peer at the man behind you.

“He will no doubt find out on his own.” Aemond says. “Either way, they don’t involve him. Rook’s Rest is nothing Cole and I cannot take on our own.”

“And if someone were to show you the same insolence if you were the king?” You retort, biting back a gasp as his thrusts increase pace.

“When.” He corrects, almost growling. “When I am the king. And I would exile them for such an insult.”

“Yet- mm, Aemond, ah - you do not fear such retribution from Aegon.” You say. You know he’s getting close, his soft pants turning into longer whines, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips. You clench as tightly as you can, reveling in the breathy moan you pull from him as he stills, hips still pressed against yours, spent.

You feel him make himself comfortable against your back, not bothering to pull away just yet. “Our brother is a fool, not fit for the duties of the crown. How can one be expected to respect such an undeserving monarch? No,” He says, pressing open-mouthed kisses onto any patch of your skin he can reach. “We will be much greater.”

It’s treason, even just entertaining thoughts of taking the throne from the rightful king, but the more Aemond speaks of it, the more you find yourself indulging in the fantasy. Never before did you truly consider what it would be to be queen, but after truly thinking about it, you find yourself enchanted with the idea. With anyone else, you have no doubt that you would have been subjected to the life your mother lived, but as Aemond’s queen, you would have more power than any woman before you.

“You sound so sure already.” You tease, pushing yourself up on your elbows as he slips away, tucking himself back into his trousers and pulls your skirts back down over your legs.

“That is because I am.”

Aegon presses his face into his hands, groaning. While he’s not looking, you slide the wine decanter away from him. Full when you sat down, it’s almost empty now, most of the contents having been poured down the kings throat. He’s been drinking more, in the aftermath of little Jaehaerys’ death. You can’t blame him, of course, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t concerning.

“They plot behind my back.” He says, his face still hidden in his hands, his elbows resting on the table. “Aemond. My own hand - and our mother, she…” He trails off. “They mock me. Think me an idiot. I cannot…” He reaches for the decanter, only to find it missing, and lifts his head out of his hands. “My wine.”

“Perhaps you’ve had enough.” You say, doing your best to be firm.

He looks at you blankly before gesturing for the decanter again. With a sigh, you fold, sliding the container across the table to him. Let him drink himself to death if he wishes - it would be a better end than whatever Aemond is planning.

It’s hard to look at Aegon, knowing that your other brother is plotting his demise. He doesn’t deserve to die, not after all he’s been through. Sometimes, you think you know Aegon better than yourself. You’ve seen him at his drunkest, in the streets of Flea Bottom, at his most desperate before his coronation, at his lowest, after the death of his son. He never asked for any of this. He never asked to be king. He doesn’t deserve to die because of a crown he never desired.

But one cannot simply resign from the throne.

You watch as Aegon empties the rest of the decanter into his glass, and then misses the table as he sets the pitcher down, shards shattering across the tiled floor. He stares down at the floor, eyes blank. “Ah.”

“Aegon.” You groan.

He flaps his hand. “Someone will clean it up. Someone always does.”

“Perhaps it is behavior such as this that deters Cole and Aemond from sharing their plans with you.” You say, utterly annoyed at your brother’s actions.

Aegon scoffs. “As if you weren’t also kept in the dark.” His eyes lazily slide to yours, and you don’t look away quickly enough, it seems, because he catches it in your gaze. “They told you? And not me, their king?”

“I cannot help that our brother seeks my opinion on such matters.” You say.

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Aegon demands, angrily rising from his seat to level an accusatory finger at you. “You are supposed to be my closest confidant, I expect you to be on my side-!” He cuts himself off. “But no. Of course not. As soon as Aemond gets his claws into you you’re just like the rest of them.”

“Aegon,” You try, placating. “I meant no offense. In fact, I urged Aemond to tell you himself-”

“No, no, you cannot fool me again! I am not as stupid as you think me to be, I am not.” He shouts, harshly backing away from the table as you rise from your seat. There’s an anger in his eyes that you’ve never seen directed at you before, and it gives you pause, guilt and shame sinking into the pit of your stomach. What were you thinking, going behind his back like this? He is your brother, one of your closest friends, your king. Curse Aemond and all his sickly sweet words.

“Aegon-”

A loose hand thrown up in the air, he silences you with a harsh glance before stalking out of the room, leaving you alone with the shattered pieces of the decanter for company.

Aegon returns to you on a litter, melted into his armor by dragonfire, barely conscious. The smell of charred flesh and dragon blood fills the hall as the kingsguard rush him to the maesters, and you press yourself as far into the wall as you can to let them pass. There is no rage in you, only shock and despair. You had not thought it would be so soon, that Aemond had his revenge.

“Jaenara.”

You turn at the sound of his voice, and he stops in front of you, pulling off his riding gloves and tucking them into the pocket of his leathers. There’s an energy about him that you haven’t seen before. Leftover adrenaline crackles over his skin, the pupil of his good eye blown wide, almost lustful.

“What have you done?” You demand, cringing at the frightened quality of your voice.

“What I planned to do.” He says, taking you by the arm. “Are you not delighted? Aegon is indisposed, he will be crippled for the rest of his life - however many short years he has left, in this state. None will stand in our way.”

“I…” You aren’t sure how you feel. Aegon isn’t dead, but he will be in incredible pain for the rest of his life. Likely, he won’t be able to walk on his own, or ever ride his dragon again. It is an awful fate for someone you love. But you cannot pretend a part of you - the same part seduced by Aemond’s ambition - isn’t elated at the downfall of the king.

“Come.” Aemond says, tugging you away from your palace pressed against the rough hewn stone of the Keep walls. You fall into pace beside him, stumbling over your own feet as you process how reality is shifting around you at this very moment. Aemond and the council will have to speak on Aegon’s behalf, puppeteering him even more so than before. You are one step closer to ascending the throne. Your brother is half-alive, melted into the armor of his namesake.

You don’t realize where you are until Aemond is pushing you down onto his bed with one hand and rucking your skirts up around your waist with the other. He does not wait for you to react before he scoops your hips up to insert himself into you, groaning in relief as he slides home. “My queen.” He gasps throatily, pillowing his face in the crook of your neck. “Have I pleased you?”

“Mm.” You hum, unable to say the words ‘yes, of course’. It proves to be enough though, for Aemond sighs again, slowly beginning to grind his hips against yours. It’s more fervent than his usual fucking, spurred on by the bloody battle he’s just come from. You can smell the smoke in his hair from where it lays across your face.

“It will not be long now,” He says, breathy and rough. “Soon, you and I will sit the throne. Have our own heirs - will you give me an heir?” He asks. “Will you give me more than one?”

“As many as you’d like.” You choke out. There isn’t another option for you now, not with Aemond so intent on having you by his side when he takes his place as king. As you’re sure he will.

“We will put Jaehaerys and Alysanne to shame.” He declares, placing his hands under the small of your back, causing you to arch against him. Holding the tops of your hips, he fucks you against him feverishly. It does not take long for him to finish, already keyed up on the high of his plans coming to fruition.

He collapses against your chest with a heavy sigh, and instinctually, you wrap your arms around his shoulders, carding your fingers through his hair.

“I love you.” He whispers against your skin.

It’s the first time he’s said the words aloud, though you’ve known it for a very long time. Of course Aemond loves you.

“As I, you.” You return.

What you can’t decide, is if you feel the same.

#aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd smut #hotd x reader

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reidmania · 16 days ago

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living for the hope of it all | s.reid

summary; spencer wants more than you can offer him.

warnings; fem reader, situationships, friends w benefits situation, illusions to sex, no strings attached agreement, reader has commitment issues, avoidant reader, angst, no happy ending.

an; yayayyayaya i laove angst, i laove avoidant reader.

You’re sitting across from him, feeling the heat of his gaze from across the room. It’s the same look he always gives you—part curiosity, part yearning, with a layer of something deeper that you’ve tried to ignore from the start. Spencer Reid, a genius, the child prodigy, and, perhaps most dangerously, the man who seems to see right through you.

When you began whatever this was, you were upfront. You didn’t want commitment, didn’t need the complications of feelings and labels. You’d made your boundaries clear, blunt, even cold. No dates, no labels, no expectations. Just the two of you, occasionally meeting in quiet places, sharing stolen hours that were meant to be simple. And you could tell yourself it was just that—simple. Until recently.

It’s not like you didn’t see the signs. The way his hand would linger on your arm, the way his texts became a little more frequent, or how he’d suggest something that sounded suspiciously like an actual date. You’d turn him down or laugh it off, dismissing it like he was only half-serious. But tonight is different. You can feel it. The weight of whatever he’s holding back is nearly suffocating.

“So,” he starts, voice gentle, almost hesitant. “I… need to talk to you about something.”

There it is. The words you’ve been dreading. You swallow, pushing down the instinct to shut this down before it begins, to brush him off with some practiced line that will let you slip out of this conversation unscathed. But something in the way he’s looking at you makes it impossible.

You force yourself to hold his gaze. “What’s on your mind?”

He shifts uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck in a way that makes him look younger, a little vulnerable. “I think…” He takes a breath, and you brace yourself for the impact. “I think I want something more with you.”

The words hang between you like a fragile thread, stretched taut, ready to snap. You feel a familiar tightness in your chest, that instinctual urge to pull away, to build walls so high he couldn’t possibly climb them. But instead, you just stare, hoping he’ll continue so you don’t have to respond. Maybe he’ll convince himself it was a bad idea to bring it up.

But Spencer isn’t that easy to dissuade. He’s studied you, probably more than anyone else has. He knows you won’t answer right away. He knows how much you hate talking about feelings, especially your own.

“Look,” he says, quieter now, almost pleading. “I know you said you didn’t want anything serious, and I understand why. But I can’t keep pretending that this is enough for me.”

You open your mouth to reply, but the words get tangled in your throat. He’s too close, too intense, and the familiar panic starts to rise. You want to tell him that he doesn’t need anything more from you, that he should know this was all it ever would be, but somehow you can’t bring yourself to say it.

Instead, you manage a sigh, crossing your arms defensively. “Spencer, we talked about this.”

“I know.” His voice is still soft, but there’s a firmness underneath it. “But people change, right? Feelings change. It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I can’t just… stay in this halfway place anymore. Not when I know how I feel about you.”

His words hit you like a punch, and you have to steady yourself, focusing on anything other than his face. You’d been so careful to make sure he knew this was just casual, just an arrangement. A simple fix to fulfill a mutual need. And yet, the way he’s looking at you makes it clear that somewhere along the way, he forgot.

You shift uncomfortably, arms still crossed. “This… isn’t what I want,” you finally say, each word careful and deliberate. “We agreed this was going to be casual. No strings, no feelings.”

“But can’t you see that it’s not that simple anymore?” His voice cracks slightly, and you can hear the desperation, the frustration simmering beneath. “I know you’re scared, and I know you don’t want to get hurt. But I can’t keep pretending that I don’t care about you, not when I think about you all the time, not when—”

“Spencer.” You cut him off, sharp, and he flinches slightly. “You knew what this was. I told you from the beginning. I can’t… I’m not going to be someone you can build a future with.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, as if steadying himself, and when he looks at you again, there’s a vulnerability there that makes your stomach twist. “Why not? Why can’t you let yourself care about me?”

Your jaw tightens, and you look away, swallowing down the familiar knot of emotions you’re used to burying. You know he won’t understand, not fully. The truth is too complicated, too layered in years of self-protection, a lifetime of not trusting anyone to stay. Of not trusting yourself to hold onto something good without destroying it. You wished you could argue that you did care about him, because you did. Too much. An uncomfortable amount. An un-admitable amount.

“It’s just not who I am,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t… I don’t do relationships, Spencer. I told you this.”

“You don’t have to do this,” he says quietly. “You don’t have to keep running from this just because it scares you.” His words cut deeper than you’re willing to admit. There’s a part of you, a voice you’ve tried to ignore, that wonders if maybe he’s right, if maybe you’re just too afraid of what could go wrong to even let yourself imagine what could go right. But the fear outweighs the possibility, and you push that thought away as quickly as it comes.

“It’s not just fear,” you insist, more to yourself than him. “I don’t want the kind of life you want. I don’t want the same things you do.” You didn’t know if this was true, you shut down any hopeful conversation about the future. About what sort of life you wanted, when he had asked you how many kids you wanted that one time you stayed awake together too late, you laughed and brushed it off. You couldn’t imagine being with someone long enough to get to that point.

Spencer’s expression shifts, something like resignation settling in his eyes. He nods slowly, and for a moment, the silence feels crushing, as though it’s pressing down on both of you, making it hard to breathe.

“Okay,” he says finally, his voice quiet, hollow. “If that’s what you really want, then… I’ll respect it.”

You can see the hurt in his eyes, the way he’s forcing himself to accept your words, and it tears at something inside you that you didn’t even realize was vulnerable. You want to tell him that you’re sorry, that you wish things could be different, but the words feel empty in your mouth. If you could choose anyone in the world to fall in love with, it would be Spencer Reid, but regardless of whatever apology or wishful truth you could spit out, it wouldn’t change anything. You and Spencer were so close to being enough, yet so far, like January and December.

So, instead, you just nod, your expression carefully neutral. “It’s for the best, Spencer. Really.” Some sick words you can’t even convince yourself are true.

He gives you a small, sad smile, the kind that twists your insides and makes you want to take it all back, just for a moment. But you don’t. You stay rooted to your spot, holding onto the fragile shell of indifference you’ve constructed around yourself.

“Right,” he says, standing up slowly, his movements careful, as though he’s afraid of breaking something. “I guess… I’ll see you around.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond, and you don’t try to stop him. You watch as he walks away, each step feeling like a goodbye that you’re not sure you’re ready for. But this is what you wanted, isn’t it? The freedom to walk away without attachment, without strings.

But as he disappears around the corner, a hollow ache settles in your chest, a strange emptiness that feels foreign and terrifying. You tell yourself it will pass, that this is just the consequence of cutting ties. You’re good at this. You’re good at moving on. But this time, as the silence fills the space he left behind, you realize with a sinking feeling that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as immune as you thought.

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ceoofglytchell · 2 months ago

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Daughter Of The Sea

Summary: Crushed by the burdens weighing on his shoulders, Aegon takes you, his wife, on a flight on Sunfire to a special place, where he can forget the raging war and the burdens of the crown for at least a short time and at the same time start an attempt to get closer to you.

Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Tully!Wife!Reader

Word count: 4108 words

Warnings: fluff, obvious pining, brief angst (communication is hard), mentions of past smut, Aegon having dirty thoughts about you, very brief hint of a breeding kink, brief making out, no mention of Y/N

Notes: I am a little stressed at the moment so this will be the only fic coming from me this week, but I will most certainly be back with another one on Saturday 💛. As always, feedback and criticism is always appreciated and please remember that english is not my native language.

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"No, no, fat old Lord Tully can either raise my banners or see his burn," Aegon said firmly, scanning the members of his Small Council. It was only early in the morning and he was already having to hold one of those miserable council meetings that just always tired him out. He would rather drink wine in his chambers or go out into the city to the Street of Silk, but he was no longer allowed to do that either. He was the King, after all.

"Lord Tully has another proposal, Your Grace. One that doesn't involve any bloodshed or fighting. A marriage alliance. His daughter is not yet married, but she will be soon if the pretender realizes that too. In this way, with this alliance, we could unite a large part of the Riverlands under our banner and expand our army with their men."

A small murmur went around the table and he could immediately see his mother looking at Criston with her dark brown eyes and they shared a long, knowing look. It was decided without him even having the chance to say anything about it and give his own opinion.

Once again, a decision was made over his head and he was forced to do something he did not want - just like the crown on his head, which was never meant for him.

He was going to get married and he didn't even know you.

You were different than he had expected.

A little more than a month had passed since the wedding, which had been held in small circles in front of a High Septon and your families in the great Sept in King's Landing. You were a pretty little thing. A little younger than him, loving and innocent. You had actually blushed when he had pressed a small, fleeting kiss on your lips to seal the marriage, which had then given him the motivation not to get drunk to the point of insensibility during the banquet so that he would not have to endure your company.

Instead, the opposite had been the case, for he had quickly grown to enjoy talking to you, hearing your soft voice and seeing the warm expression in your eyes. You were a little shy and you did not have much in common, but as the evening progressed, as the moment drew closer and closer when you would have to retire to your marital chambers to consummate the marriage, Aegon had noticed how you were picking at your cuticles and how you kept raising your hand to your face to bite your nails out of nervousness.

It was a habit he himself had, so he knew exactly how you must be feeling.

At that very moment, the king had felt something for you for the first time. He had realized that not only had he been forced into this sudden marriage, but that you had also suffered from this decision, and that you knew him as little as he knew you. Here, you were both the victims.

Aegon had been gentle when he had you lying beneath him in his bed and taking your innocence. He had tried as best he could to make it as comfortable as possible for you, but your little whimpers and the big tears that had rolled down your cheeks as he did his duty broke his heart and he had vowed to be good for you. You were now his wife, his queen, and soon probably the mother of his child, if his seed had taken root in your womb that one time, which is why he wanted to be a better man for you.

He had to get to know you first and maybe at some point your heart would open up to him and you could love each other as if this had not just been a political alliance but a marriage of love from the start.

"Nothing."

This very word clouded his every thought as he wandered through the cold, bare corridors of the Red Keep in search of something. He was the king, but at the same time he was completely powerless, at least when it came to his own life, because as long as he can remember everyone has always decided for him or over him and that was no different now. The only person who had decided absolutely nothing for him or forced him to do anything so far was you.

That was probably why he had instinctively walked to your chambers without even looking where his feet were taking him, and now found himself in front of the closed doors.

He could hear a faint noise from inside and as he took a step closer to the wooden doors he realized that you were humming. He did not recognize the melody nor could he hear you clearly, but for some reason your soft voice alone was soothing him immensely, as if you were a distant light in a world that consisted only of darkness. He only had to approach you and reach for your light.

He carefully opened the door and stepped into your chambers, which he had only briefly visited once before, when you had just furnished them after you had come to King's Landing. Back then, the interior had been sparse, but now every inch reminded him of you. It was comfortably furnished with plenty of seating, cushions and plants. The tapestries that hung on the walls were not about any sexual practices, unlike his, but yours were embroidered with small fish, aquatic plants and it was all in the colors of your house - red and blue - to give you a feeling of home so that you could properly settle in. On the shelves were piles of books, more embroidery and small pictures that you had painted on parchment.

You sat on an armchair in the corner of the room, rocking back and forth slightly as you gently stroked the cat that had curled up on your lap and you hummed a calm tune to it. He didn't remember the name of the small, orange kitten, but he knew it was a parting gift from your younger brother Oscar, so you wouldn't feel lonely in your new surroundings.

Aegon didn't want you to be lonely - or unhappy. Quite the opposite, he wanted to see you happy and above all he wanted you to be happy with him, as you would probably be together for the rest of your lives unless - gods forbid - a tragedy happened and you were taken away from him, which he would never allow. You were his wife and he would be damned if he couldn't protect you. If he wanted to be strong for anyone, it would be for you.

Approaching footsteps made you look up from your little friend in your lap and you froze when you saw your Lord Husband standing in your doorway and your eyes widened as he was the last person you expected to come visit you. Your marriage had been quite cold up until now, except for the consummation on your wedding night, but that was it. After that, you hadn't even kissed or touched each other in any way, except for the occasional kiss on the cheek before supper.

However, you would be lying if you said you didn't long to be close to him. You did not want to live a life without love, but to get it you also did not want to break the promise you had to make to him at the altar.

"Husband? What are you doing here?"

He wanted to approach you, but something inside him wouldn't let him move and he remained rooted to the spot at the door, which he at least closed behind him so that you could talk to each other alone.

What was he doing here? That was a good question. One that he himself didn't have an answer to. He wanted to get closer to you, but he didn't want to force his company on you either. However, he knew of a way that would allow him to be close to you, to show you a different side of him, while you would probably enjoy it too. He might even see you smile, but not the kind, respectful smile you always had on your lips, no, a real, loving one that was only meant for his eyes. He had not heard your laughter yet either.

"I wanted to see you." You blinked in confusion and scratched the cat a little more behind the ear, as if it would take away your nervousness itself, which wasn't the case, as your heart was beating so fast you were afraid it would burst out of your chest. He wanted to see you? Why? He had never voluntarily come to you to spend time with you, but you suspected there was a first time for everything.

"Why?" A rather unpleasant thought entered your head and for a moment you feared that he had only come to do his duty and then leave again, like the first time. You longed to be close to him, but you still wanted to get to know him a little better and learn to love him before you let him into your bed again. Hopefully he saw it the same way. "Have you come here to do our duty?"

The king immediately shook his head so that his short, white curls fell into his face, but that didn't really bother him. What bothered him, however, was that you thought he had only come here for that reason, but at the same time he could understand why. In your eyes there could be no other reason why he should come, since after a month of marriage you still barely knew each other.

"No, I... I wanted to ask you if you already have plans for today?"

The cat jumped off your lap and disappeared into your bedchamber next door, leaving you all alone with him, and you immediately felt a little more tense again. You wanted his attention, but it happened so suddenly that you were at a loss for words for a moment.

“No, not really. Do you have anything special in mind, husband?”

“I wanted to ask if you would like to ride with me? Just the two of us?”

You didn't know if it was his hopeful look or your longing and desire for freedom that made you accept his offer, but you did. The only thing you hadn't seen coming was that he wasn't leading you to the royal stables, but to a carriage that would take you to the dragon pit.

"I do not think I am made for the skies, Aegon," you said carefully as you heard Sunfire's gentle chants and the golden dragon slowly moved out of the darkness of the pit into the light to greet its rider. His mount was nothing short of beautiful. The dragon shone in a variety of colors when the light shone on it, and the dull pink of its wings reminded you of the many flowers that often grew on the shores of the small lakes in the Riverlands. Despite everything, the thought of flying on the back of such a winged beast filled you with fear and awe.

"No, small fish like you belong in the sea and that is why I am taking you there." For a moment you just stared at him, unable to believe that the first time he voluntarily spent time with you, he was granting two of your dearest wishes - to get closer to your husband and to see the sea again. Of course, there was a good view from the highest towers of the Red Keep, but just seeing it was not the same as feeling it, and you didn't want to disturb the fishermen at the harbor at their work just because you felt the need to stroll barefoot across a sandy beach.

The young king held out a gloved hand to you and tried to smile invitingly at you while he gently stroked the shiny scales of his mount with the other. He hadn't been out riding for a while and was already looking forward to flying through the air with you and seeing how you would feel about being able to see the world from above. On Sunfire's back he had always felt completely free, free from the annoying duties, free from the weight of the crown, free from the burdens of his name, free from everything, and you might feel the same. At least he hoped so.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves before you walked closer to the beast, which seemed to be watching you curiously from the side.

Aegon helped you climb onto the saddle and then sat behind you to assure you that you would not fall off during the flight and that he would be a widower a month after the wedding. The warmth of your body so close to his, the sweet scent of your hair and the way your body clung to him drove him to the brink of madness in the first second, which was why he quickly gave Sunfire the command to take to the skies so that he would no longer have to think about you while you were so close to each other.

A small cry left your lips as the dragon, along with you and Aegon, rose into the sky above King's Landing and you saw the city from above for the first time. Instinctively, you pressed yourself closer to your husband's chest and grabbed his arm, which was wrapped securely around your waist, your fingers pressing so tightly into the fabric of his tunic that it was a wonder he hadn't objected to the touch.

Sunfire rose higher and higher until it almost reached the clouds, and Aegon couldn't help but grin like a fool when he felt you reaching for him in search of protection and safety, holding on so tightly as if you were afraid you might slip off the saddle and fall into the depths at any second.

As if he would ever let that happen.

"Are we nearly there?" you called over the wind that whipped against your ears and messed up your hair, while your narrowed gaze was fixed in fascination on the landscape below you.

"Soon! Be patient a little longer, wife." Aegon answered close to your ear, sending goosebumps down your arms as his voice made you realize just how close you had been and how much trust you had just put in him. You didn't even know where he was taking you except that it would have something to do with the sea.

After not too long of flying, you saw the outlines of a small group of islands appear in the distance, although they seemed to be uninhabited. The dragon suddenly began to fly a little lower and when your husband gave no other orders to contradict this, you realized that this must be the place he wanted to take you to in order to spend time with you - an island in the middle of the sea.

The island you landed on was small and had nothing more than a few rocks, some grass and a few plants and a small beach where the waves gently crashed. The sun was high in the sky and the sea was completely calm, which was a huge relief for Aegon, as he knew from experience that in the event of a storm, most of the small island would be swallowed up by the waves.

You landed on the ground again with wobbly legs and you could immediately smell the salt in the air and feel the sun burning on your skin. A smile formed on your lips as you stared into the horizon and saw the endless blue stretching out before you, which for some reason warmed your heart and made you feel more free again.

Riverrun, your home where you grew up, was not directly at the sea, but the castle had been surrounded by river water on all sides and you loved to ride to the coast with your younger brother to spend the day there, which made you miss the sea and nature even more. When you and Aegon had children together, you swore that they would not only have a dragon egg laid in the crib, as you knew was the Targaryen tradition, but you would also show them places like these and maybe even your childhood home at some point.

As Aegon dismounted behind you and Sunfire rose back into the air to circle over the island or just fly around a bit, and he saw your broad smile, he could feel a lump forming in his throat. He had always thought you were beautiful, but only now did he realize that you were much more than that. You had a beauty that he had never known before, and he was a fool for staying away from you for so long.

"Have you known this place for a long time?" You asked him, turning back to him to look into his eyes, which appeared a light purple tone in the blazing sun that reminded you of lavender.

"I come here occasionally. It is quite relaxing and simply... beautiful."

"Peaceful. It is peaceful," you responded then, whereupon Sunfire made a noise that reminded you of your cat. It sounded almost like an agreement - if a dragon could understand humans at all. He seemed to understand his rider well enough, even if he barely spoke High Valyrian.

"Yes, that too," Aegon gently patted Sunfire on the flank, causing the dragon to straighten up, flap its wings and take to the skies again, flying circles over the island group as they stood on the small beach and looked at each other.

"What do you do when you are here?" You asked him, lightly playing with your wedding ring on your ring finger, as it was a better distraction than biting your nails.

"Laying around and doing nothing, mostly," he felt a little bad telling you that, as it did not sound particularly like kingly behavior, but it was the truth and he did not want to deny you that. After all, he was doing this entire trip with you to get to know you better.

You nodded your head, an idea coming to you as you heard the sound of the waves slowly hitting the sandy beach and you could smell the salt that was hitting your skin. However, you didn't just want to smell it, you wanted to feel it too. "I will go swimming, I think."

Aegon blinked, as this was certainly not what he had expected you to do. He had expected you to lie down and talk, but not that he would suddenly see you starting to undo the laces of your dress and reveal your thin white shift and parts of your supple skin that he would love to caress and kiss if you let him one day.

"Be careful, please," the king asked gently, as he was not about to come with you and sink into the salty sea water and feel as free as a fish himself, but hopefully you would. He wished that you would feel as free and carefree as you did before marrying him.

"I will be," your blue dress fell onto the ground, while you walked into the waves in your white undergarment until you were surrounded by water up to your shoulders, while he sat down on the ground and quietly watched you from afar.

You reminded him of the old tales about nymphs who were said to have seduced men at lakes with their beauty and then dragged them into the depths never to be seen again, but he also knew that you were different. You were definitely tempting him right now- not that you knew- but you would also never harm him. A small part of him wanted to join you, to see if he had managed to make you feel happiness again, but his courage failed him and instead he merely kept on watching you.

You swam through the cool water for some time, and each and every minute you could feel his eyes following your every move, while your husband's dragon flew around in the sky above you the whole time. Two dragons were watching you, and you had hoped one would join you, but he did not. Of course not.

Aegon had lost himself in daydreams the longer he watched you swim. He dreamed of a life where he had met you under different circumstances and he had married you because he wanted to and not because he was forced to. It would have been love, not obligation.

Lost in these sudden daydreams, he did not notice you rising from the waves again, the now soaked shift you were wearing being practically see-through now, the thin fabric clinging to your curves like a second skin.

When his gaze focused again and he saw you like this, his amethyst colored eyes widened immediately and you stole his breath away by not even doing anything. You were heavenly.

You dropped into the sand next to him and lay down, your eyes fixed on the blue sky and your hair spread out beneath your head like a halo. He couldn't take his eyes off you anymore and he couldn't help but let his eyes wander over every inch of your body. Under the thin material of your shift he could see your hardened nipples and little pearly drops of water running down inside your cleavage, making him look at your breasts for a moment longer than necessary, which caused a lump to form in his throat and to feel something stir deep inside him.

Gods, now he would have to control himself.

"You could have joined me," you said suddenly out of nowhere and turned your head so that you could look at your husband's handsome face, which was catching the rays of sunlight in such a way that you thought he was glowing.

"I did not want to force my company on you."

You quickly rolled onto your side, giving him an even better glimpse of your cleavage and he had to actively bite the inside of his cheek to avoid making any noise that would ruin the beauty of this moment and that would force him to explain himself.

"Aegon, I enjoy your company. I just wish you would give me more of it. You are my husband and I barely know you."

The disappointment in your voice broke his heart, but at the same time he cursed himself for not being able to think of anything other than ripping off the last piece of clothing that covered your body and repeat your wedding night, but this time properly and not just giving yourself to him because it was your duty as his queen to give him heirs. But he restrained himself.

"My little wife enjoys having me around, huh?"

"Come on, you are not that bad. I am sure you are more bearable than Aemond." You giggled and the sound made his heart beat faster and a warmth spread through him that he had not felt before with a woman yet.

"You would not have survived marriage to him, little fish. He is too... fierce."

"Do you not know what they say? Tough on the outside, soft on the inside. Perhaps I could have softened him."

Aegon laughed and shook his head firmly, as he was a thousand percent sure that even your kind nature and sweet disposition could not have changed his little brother's stoic demeanor, even if you both shared a common love of books. "No, my love. Even you could not have done that."

"And what of you? Do you think I am able to warm your heart?"

The king did not have to think about his answer for a second and he replied to you without thinking of any possible consequences: "You already have."

You didn't know if he had closed the gap or if it was you, but suddenly your lips were on his and you lost yourself in the way he held you tightly and deepened the kiss with a sense of urgency you had longed for.

Maybe you would not have to wait forever for love to blossom.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

#house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fanfic #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon targaryen x female reader #aegon ii x you #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #tom glynn carney

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targaryen-dynasty · 11 months ago

Text

WILDEST DREAMS.

Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x pregnant!Reader

Neither of you would have thought you‘d ever end up like this — dating for hardly a year and you pregnant with Aegon‘s child. Yet he still has another surprise up his sleeve.

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; p in v, pregnant sex, pregnancy, lactation kink, semi public sex, daddy kink, breeding kink, praise kink

WORDS: 3.5 K

NOTES: Thanks to @lovelykhaleesiii for this amazing request! This can be read as part of the Mine and Mine only universe. 🤭

White Harbor has never looked more peaceful than it does at this moment.

Just two days ago, the sky above the harbor was lit up by fireworks with thousands of people watching, and now the only lights you can see are the ones on the docked boats, and the street lights and buildings surrounding the harbor.

Instead of a formal dinner with his friends, just like he has celebrated every year, Aegon has chosen to invite his younger siblings and their respective families to White Harbor to celebrate the New Year, renting a penthouse overlooking the impressive harbor. It was meant to be a trip no longer than three days, however, all parties involved have quickly decided that it would be better to extend the trip by a few more.

You and Aegon have been dating for hardly a year, meeting by chance in the very same spot you sit in right now, and, after you have found out that you both live in King’s Landing, decided to enter a situationship because you enjoyed each other’s company but weren’t looking for something serious.

Until he got you pregnant by accident.

After you both agreed to keep the child, you could swear you had spotted a few tears brimming in his eyes as you handed him the positive pregnancy test, you could observe from day to day how he became more and more absorbed in the father’s role.

You’re seven months pregnant by now, and, except for the ridiculous amount of milk your body already provides for the child, you have little to no symptoms. The child has been moving quite a bit ever since you’ve hit the six month mark, but you have gotten used to it by now.

Aegon’s arm is draped over the back of your chair with his fingers drawing mindless patterns along your upper arm, and you two bask in each other’s company and the silence surrounding you. You’re nursing your second glass of non-alcoholic wine, one hand resting on the swell of your bump and feeling the kicks of your child.

While your eyes are fixed on the tv in the adjoining living room, the Disney movie still running that was meant to keep Helaena’s children occupied during dinner, Aegon has his eyes solely locked on you, watching you gently caress your protruding bump.

He places his hand over yours, the sudden warmth prompting you to meet his loving gaze.

You lean into his embrace, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before you nuzzle your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his all too familiar, comforting scent.

“You know they won’t come back, right?” you ask, voice slightly muffled because of the position of your face.

Aemond and his wife left two hours ago to feed their little boy and bring him to bed, and have not returned ever since to do God-knows-what. Helaena and Cregan were a bit more persistent with both their children occupied by the television, before they eventually departed to bring them to bed, too.

That left Aegon and you all by yourself without the hurry to get to bed.

He chuckles at your words. “I figured as much,” he says, pinching your chin to bring your lips up to his. “We have this evening all to ourselves now.”

Knowing exactly what he is hinting at, your eyes take over a half-lidded gaze almost immediately, your hormones having you feel positively bubbly.

“And I suppose there are plenty of ways we can entertain ourselves in the meantime,” you purr against his lips, pecking them once. He has parted his lips when you pull back, clearly having anticipated you to deepen the kiss and not pull away after just one chaste peck.

A growl rumbles in his chest as he’s figured out your teasing, and his voice is husky when he speaks again, “are there now?”

His eyes spark with the joy of mischief at his own words, sending a shiver straight down your spine.

Aegon’s hand drops lower onto your hip, drawing you closer to him to the point you have to get up to straddle his lap. Just at the sight of the pregnant you climbing him, he could feel his crotch growing tighter, much more at the realization that it was his seed doing this to you.

The skirt of your dress rides up your thighs as you make yourself comfortable to accommodate the space your bump creates. The fabric rucks up just below your belly, and your bare skin is too inviting for your boyfriend not to rub his hands up and down the outsides of your thighs.

You rest your hands on his shoulders, and lean in to connect your lips with his. Aegon meets the kiss with passion, his arms snaking around your frame to pull you closer. Your lips press together with urgency, your tongues exploring each other’s mouths.

You run your fingers through his short, silver curls and hold him tight to you as the kiss deepens. You’re both eager to get as close as possible to each other, and you feel the evidence of your proximity and his desire pressing against your clothed and swollen pussy.

Aegon draws back slightly, and you chase his lips for another kiss. It was passionate but short-lived with him lowering his head to kiss your jaw.

He caresses the swell of your belly as he trails his lips to your neck, shoulder and then your collarbone. You whimper and whine at the heat on your skin that follows his lips, tilting your head to the side to grant him even more access.

Teasingly slow, he hooks his index finger beneath the strap of your dress and drags it down your shoulder, completely unphased as he starts to nibble your skin. He proceeds to do the same with the other strap, letting them dangle in the cooks of your elbows with your arms bent.

He brushes his hand over the side of your bump up to your heavy breast, cupping it through the fabric. “You haven’t worn a bra all day long,” he rasps against your collar bone, looking up at you with dark blown eyes. “Such a little minx. Bet you didn’t even think about how badly I would have to hold myself back, huh?”

The touch to your breast sends a tremble through your body, and you arch your back into it. Biting your lip as you look down at him, you whisper teasingly, though there is a hint of glee audible in your words, “not one second.”

His piercing blue eyes widen for a moment, the true meaning behind your words slowly settling. When he squeezes your breast, you tug on his hair in return, causing him to groan, and with his head already tilted up, he presses his lips to your jaw.

“You’re a very, very naughty girl… mommy.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, and his words make your body hum with desire.

You lick your lips, and bow your head to meet his, kissing him deeply. You start to grind over his clothed cock, eliciting sharp and heavy breaths from him and quiet whines from yourself whenever your lips parted for air.

Resting your forehead against his, you rub your hands over his shoulders, squeezing them. “Mommy can be very naughty,” you say, pecking his lips once. “If she gets what she wants…”

“And what does she want?” The grin he has on his lips is perfectly audible, you don’t even have to see it. He knows all too well what you’re going to say, he just wants to hear it.

“You, daddy.”

You can tell he’s taken by surprise at the nickname, since you’ve never used it with him before, his eyes widen as he pulls back to regard you. But nevertheless, a low groan leaves his lips.

Having always been insatiable and hungry for each other, it’s no surprise which direction it all takes when Aegon cups your ass and lifts you up to carefully sit you down on the table, standing between your parted legs. You bury your fingers in the hairs on the back of his neck again, and watch him carefully.

“Say that again.”

With a cheeky grin on your lips, your eyes visibly trail from his to his lips and then down to his crotch, the bulge perfectly visible. “Daddy,” you reply to the command, innocently batting your eyelashes at him.

Aegon groans again, and when his hands tug on the front of your dress, you shimmy out of the straps to allow him to free your full breasts. It’s impossible for him to tear his eyes off of them, watching mesmerized how your nipples harden as the chill air hits them.

You don’t even have to say anything for him to lean in and wrap his lips around one bud, skipping the teasing to suck on it immediately, swallowing your milk like a man starved. The stimulation and relief it brings has your back arching once again, all but shoving your breasts against his lips and into his hand.

He’s pinching your other nipple between his fingers, coaxing drops of your milk to dribble down the curve of your breast while his lips greedily lap at your other.

“Fuck,” you mewl, scratching your fingers over his scalp in a comforting manner.

Aegon’s spurred on by the way your body writhes beneath his touch and your legs clamp around his hips, locking him in and prompting him to rut his hard cock against your clothed pussy.

But as much as you yearn for the relief his lips bring you, the aching between your legs is too much and needs to be soothed by him.

“I need you, Aeg,” you whine, grinding yourself against his hard-on.

A deep groan rumbles in his chest at your words, stoking the already blazing need you have for each other. To your surprise, he pulls back from your breast with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your hard bud and his swollen lips.

They are curled into a smug smirk, the expression that so often blesses his chiseled features. “What was that?”

You sigh, biting your bottom lip to suppress the urge to roll your eyes. You know what he wants to hear. “I need you… daddy.”

Like a man possessed, Aegon pushes the skirt of your dress up and reveals your cotton panties. You haven’t worn thongs in ages, and he’s used to them by now, though it took him some while.

Noticing the damp spot in the center of them, Aegon scoffs. “God, fuck, how I‘ve missed you,“ he husks, his eyes solely focused on the outlines of your swollen folds against the cotton. He‘s not talking to you, obviously. “So eager to be filled by me, baby, mh?”

He fists the fabric between his fingers and just rips it apart as if it‘s nothing, briefly meeting your pouting gaze. “I’ll buy you prettier ones,” he replies.

His hands curl around your thighs to pull you closer towards the edge of the table, and you lean back and prop yourself on your hands, watching almost eagerly as he undoes the zipper of his pants and pulls out his cock. The tip is covered in an angry red, beads of pre cum glistening at the slit, looking all too painful and begging for relief.

Fisting the base of his cock, he drags it through your swollen folds, soaking it in your arousal before he presses the tip against your entrance, meeting resistance. You brace yourself for the delicious stretch, and release a shuddered breath when he finally breeches your hole.

Aegon doesn’t know where to look and touch you. Every inch of your body looks far too inviting, and he’s sure he could cum just knowing that he’s the one responsible for the swelling of your body. The half lidded gaze you flash at him doesn’t help either, driving him mad.

A husky groan slips past his lips as your walls squeeze him ever so tightly, throbbing and twitching as you choke him like a vice. “Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I’m not gonna last long,” he rasps.

One hand comes up to grope at your breast, while the other rests on the swell of your bump, splaying over it.

As he pulls his hips back, you wrap your legs around them in a fruitless effort to force him back into you, but he is stronger and merely keeps the tip of his cock inside of you.

“So eager to have me inside of you?” he teases, and your reply dies on your tongue as he thrusts sharply back into you.

There’s a suppressed urgency in the way Aegon snaps his hips into yours so quickly and harshly, repeatedly bullying the sweet spot inside of you that makes you putty in his hands. The vigorous pace of his pounding leaves you scrambling for support, and you opt to prop yourself up on your elbows instead of your hands to steady yourself.

Your head tilts back, and your mouth falls open, but you quickly clamp it shut to stop any wanton moans to fall from your lips. You can’t risk being too loud, as you don’t want anyone in the bedrooms far down the hallway to hear what you’re up to.

The pleasure envelops you, and when you look at him, you spot him biting his bottom lip harshly, clearly struggling with staying quiet just as much as you do. What seems to distract him at least a bit is the way your breasts jiggle each time his hips meet yours, sending tremors through your body.

Toe curling pleasure overtakes your body, and you can’t help but fondle the breast that isn’t groped by him, teasing your nipple to the point beads of your milk dribbled out of it again. The sight has him groan out, a tad too loud for the both of you.

“So fucking pretty carrying my child,” Aegon grunts, the praise making your pussy throb with pleasure and your head fuzzy. He gathers some of your milk on the pad of his thumb, bringing it up to his lips to suck his digit clean. “Pussy or tit – you just taste divine.”

The obscenity of his words coax a renewed wave of your arousal to ooze out of your cunt, soaking his throbbing cock and the table below. You don’t want it to end just yet, but with the knot in your belly tightening, there’s no way to escape.

Your heels dig into Aegon’s ass cheeks to slightly decelerate the pace of his thrusts and force him to go even deeper, intensifying the sensations you feel.

“Fuck… please,” you whimper with your face contored in pleasure.

Aegon wrinkles his nose, looking at you from under the strands of hair that have fallen into his face. “Need something, mommy?”

Your hips roll against his as best as they can, the swollen belly not making it easy, and your mouth falls open again with breathy whimpers leaving it. “I-I’m close,” you mewl, looking up at him with hooded eyes. “Wanna cum, daddy… please.”

You spot the hint of a smile dancing over his features, before he peels your hand off of your breast to bring it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

His other hand has found its way down to your pussy, skilled fingers dragging over your bundle in the rhythm they have long internalized. He knows you like clockwork, knows what gets you going and what makes you take just a little longer.

“Cum for me,” he pants against the back of your hand, not once breaking eye contact with you.

You collapse on the tabletop, the coldness of the wood hitting your flushed skin sending a shiver up your spine that goes so devilishly well with the fire that suddenly courses through your veins.

Just in time with your orgasm washing over you, Aegon places his hand over your mouth to stifle the loud moans and whines, knowing damn well that even though he can hold himself back, the same doesn’t apply to you.

You squeeze his cock so tightly as you fall apart beneath him, your back inevitably arching off of the table.

“That’s it, mommy,” he coos while he fucks you through the orgasm, the toe-curling pleasure overtaking your every being. He watches in awe as your face contorts in pleasure, taking pride in it since it’s him that’s responsible for it.

Only as he feels your body relax and your breathing turn more shallow than heavy does he bring his hand back down to your breast, the aftershocks of your high clearly subsiding.

Aegon keeps on going despite the overstimulation taking its toll on your body now, clearly racing for his own completion. His other hand shows mercy on your sensitive clit and instead pays attention to your hip, fingers digging into your flesh.

“Taking me so well, fuck, just a little longer,” he rambles, his head bowing forward to watch where he‘s repeatedly disappearing inside of your tightness.

Your head lulls back again, and your walls flutter and clench from the overstimulation, in dire need to take his seed and bring it to an end. Both your hands fly to the edge of the table for leverage, while his hands grope every inch of your body they could grasp.

Being overstimulated by him isn’t new to you, yet the moment the discomfort melts into plain pleasure always mesmerizes you.

Your body feels as if it’s on fire with the knot in your belly tightening for a second time, the high approaching faster and harder than before.

“Would’ve fucked a child in you if you weren’t pregnant already,” Aegon mumbles, and you can hear the strain in his voice, seemingly having troubles staying quiet.

You whine in return, and it must have been the way your walls choke him for a second time, but Aegon brings his hand between your bodies again, pressing his thumb to your sensitive clit.

“Cum with me,” you all but whine, eager to have his seed paint your walls. “Fill me up, daddy, pleasepleaseplease.”

The interplay of his cock bullying your sweet spot and his thumb dragging over your clit has you toppling over the edge once again, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip to silence yourself.

But even if you wanted to moan, you couldn’t, not with the white, hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

Your lips part with no sounds leaving them, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

It’s not long after that Aegon comes undone, announcing his own orgasm with a stutter of his hips and a hoarse “Fuck, I–” escaping his throat.

Your clenching walls are milking him for all he got, making sure every drop of his cum is accommodated and doesn’t go to waste.

Two more thrusts are given to your fluttering pussy before Aegon stills his hips, collapsing forwards with his hands braced right next to the swell of your bump.

He’s towering over you, a lazy smirk on his lips as he meets your gaze, and beads of sweat cling to his flushed skin.

You rub your bump in circles as you look up at him, calming yourself as you regain your breathing.

And you want to speak, but Aegon beats you to it.

“Marry me.”

A gasp escapes you as you process the words, and your belly immediately churns with arousal and desire.

As his words ring in your ears, you lick your lips and gaze up at him lovingly, though something mischievous glints in your eyes.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

His face softens, but his lips curl into a smirk. “I was waiting for the right time, but I didn’t know whether it would come at all.”

You giggle at his words, and also roll your eyes, as it was typical Aegon. But even if the moment isn’t perfect, your heart still beats rapidly, having a hard time to handle the overwhelming emotions his proposal causes you.

“But there’s still going to be a real proposal, right? With a ring and all that?” you tease playfully.

Aegon chuckles and helps you sit upright again, cupping your belly with both hands. “Of course, you’ll get a beautiful ring and everything else that comes with it. You really think I’d half-ass something like this? You deserve the most extravagant proposal.”

You sigh, savoring the feeling of his hands on your body, his softening cock still inside of you and the weight of his words.

“Yes. Yes, I will.”

Taglist: @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @sirenangelroyal @malfoytargaryen @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay @thatmysteriousblog @ashovertheriver @black-dread @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @hypocritic-trash-baby @darylandbethfanforever9 @snowystark @connorsui @valeskafics

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waitineedaname · 3 months ago

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i was thinking my little thoughts while falling asleep last night, and a concept occurred to me: what if binghe learned about the system not from shen qingqiu, but from shang qinghua

look, he likes shang qinghua alright. he's pretty disinterested in p much anyone who isn't shen qingqiu, but on the list of People Luo Binghe Tolerates, shang qinghua is relatively high. he gave him advice on wooing sqq, after all, and sqq likes his company, so binghe tolerates his shang-shishu

but the thing is, shang qinghua is a spy. has been for decades. binghe knows this. really, everyone knows this at this point, which isn't a great look for a spy, but still. and since shang qinghua is a spy for mobei-jun, who is a subordinate for luo binghe, then technically shang qinghua is also working for him, but you don't get to the position of demon emperor without a healthy amount of suspicion for everyone in your court

so he decides to test shang qinghua a little bit. nothing major, just a little poking around in his dreams. he starts out with a subtle touch, just sifting through his memories. most of it is what he expected. he sees his time on an ding as a disciple and then later as peak lord, he sees him working for mobei-jun. he sees mobei-jun in some compromising situations, which he files away for later, and then sees him in an entirely different flavor of compromising situations, and binghe immediately decides to act like he never saw that

then he decides to take a more direct approach and starts nudging the dreams in other directions, to see how he might react to certain scenarios, test his loyalty. he expects shang qinghua to act cowardly, or bluff his way through a situaton, maybe even draw his sword if pushed far enough

what he doesn't expect is for shang qinghua to frown at the changes luo binghe made and go "I didn't write it like this"

what

binghe is so bewildered by that response that he loses his grip on the dream for a second, and before he knows it, shang qinghua has spun the dream scenario back into the way the scene originally played out. he steps back and looks satisfied. "there we go," he says. "that's how it went. you know, if I'd known I'd be dealing with this scene myself, I would've written it differently"

what the hell does that mean?

fascinated, luo binghe continues to test him. most of the time, when he toys with someone's dream, they're completely unaware of the changes. shang qinghua, despite not seeming aware that he's lucid dreaming, seems very aware of how each scene should go. except for, strangely, many of the scenes that binghe himself was in. binghe pulls up one from his disciple days, one of the times he remembered shang qinghua coming to qing jing on some errand. he hadn't even changed anything yet, had just let the dream version of his younger self launch himself at shizun in a tacklehug, but shang qinghua tsks and takes the reins from him before he can make any edits. "sorry bing-ge, but that was just way too out of character," shang qinghua says. the dream copy of luo binghe's younger self is sent further away, watching the peak lords with a sullen gaze. he's skinnier than binghe remembers being at this age, and one of his eyes is swollen with a purple bruise. that doesn't make any sense, luo binghe thinks. he hadn't been beaten on qing jing peak for years at this point.

the shen qingqiu beside shang qinghua in the dream stands with his back straight as a ruler, and when his gaze lands on luo binghe, he sneers behind his fan. shang qinghua sighs. "cucumber-bro really wasn't as good of an actor as he thought he was. he's way too soft to ever seem like the original goods."

alarmed, luo binghe dispels the dream and steps out of it entirely. sure, he knows shen qingqiu's personality changed almost overnight when he had that qi deviation. everyone knew that. he avoided questioning it much, unwilling to look a gift horse in the mouth when it meant having a shizun that cared for him

but shang qinghua. shang qinghua seems to know something more about shen qingqiu's personality change. something he's not sharing. luo binghe didn't like the idea that one of his subordinates could be hiding something as vital as this from him

well, this had been a test of his spy's loyalties, hadn't it? perhaps he should make a visit to an ding. he had some questions.

#svsss #luo binghe #shang qinghua #didn't mean for this to get so long whoops under a read more it goes #my writing #<- more freeform than i usually do but i've seen other people do similar things with svsss posts #setting this free into the wild #i think lbh and sqh should interact more #demon lord and his favorite shishu. author and his whump protagonist.#now how does the confrontation go when binghe asks him about this?? who knows. that's for you to decide #i only got this far

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yogurtkags · 5 months ago

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❝ LOVER BOY ❞ — kuroo tetsuro

cw. gn!reader, established relationship, domestic bliss word count. 782 synopsis. fifteen more minutes with tetsu the cuddle bug

there's many things about kuroo that you love — if anyone dares to ask, they'd better be prepared to sit here for hours listening to you ramble all about it. from the crinkles at the corner of his eyes when he laughs, right down to the way t-shirts sit on his torso.

yes, he's suave and flirty, a handsome charismatic and natural leader, but beyond all that, he's just a silly lil lover boy that you look forward to seeing first thing in the morning and coming home to every day.

your clock-in hours naturally aligned with his, thankfully, which meant that mornings were typically spent getting ready together. it wasn't out of the ordinary for you to rise earlier than him though, reports and proposals keep him up working late on most nights.

he usually puts up a fight to keep you in bed with him for babe just five more minutes please, but a kiss and promises of a warm mug of coffee does just barely enough to coax him into reluctantly releasing you from his embrace.

today is no different. you almost think you’re successful in getting out of bed without acquiring a koala named tetsu but a lightly calloused hand catches yours before you can completely pull away.

his hands have lost a bit of it's roughness over the years, having stopped playing volleyball as strenuously and regularly as he used to back in school, but they’re still gentle in its hold. only with you.

rolling onto his back with his other arm draped over his eyes, kuroo sleepily groans “angel, stay in bed with me for a little longer please?”

“i’m just going to make us a coffee and prepare our lunches for work okay?” you softly reassure, voice barely above a whisper as you take a seat on the edge of the bed to lean down and peck his nose, trailing down to capture his lips with yours.

he cranes his neck to meet you halfway, sighing into the kiss like he needs you to breathe, and your heart swells with devotion. it’s slow and sensual, overflowing with love as it fills you up with warmth from the inside out.

his hand rests against the nape of your neck when you inevitably part for air, not letting you get too far away from him just yet as he rubs featherlight circles into your hairline. you gently rest your forehead against his as he takes a deep breath, eyes still closed and savouring the moment.

your warm breath fans against his cheek, "i love you, tetsu."

"i love you more."

as the morning sun slowly seeps in through the blinds, you get lost in the way the light glistens over his soft skin — and he shines. your heart skips a beat at his boyish likeness and the serene look on his face. he looks so peaceful in this state, younger, without a care in the world.

you can't help but let a humoured breath escape at his content expression, combing your fingers through his jet-black hair, attempting to tame the wild tufts of his bed head at least just a little bit.

lightly grazing your nails against his scalp just the way he likes it, kuroo hums in bliss, sinking further into the plush ivory sheets and sleepily murmuring, "don’t bother with lunch, we can grab food from the cafeteria. i just want you to myself right now."

how can you say no to that? you shake your head with a smile, giving in to his sweet pleas and affections and letting him pull you back under the covers with him. burying your face in his chest, his steady heartbeat thrums against your ear, syncing with yours like a melody that only belongs to you.

the slow rise and fall, inhale and exhale grounds you as his arms tighten their hold on your figure. in his embrace, the world stands still in it's axis, spelling out all that you are in body, mind, and soul. you are his and he is yours, home.

he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, slipping a hand under your oversized tee, his tee, to caress your back, stroking lines up and down your smooth skin. if he keeps this up, you're falling back asleep and you'll be no better than he is. not that you're complaining.

“fifteen more minutes and we really got to get up okay? there’s a meeting you don’t want to be late for.” you remind him, your words coming out muffled by the soft cotton of his thin pj shirt and laced with drowsiness.

“ugh, can i just call in sick today?”

“tetsu!"

tags. @tetzoro (mrs kuroo herself)

notes. mister kuroo, stop being so cute, it’s sickening !! not to be that girl but writing this reminded me of my bf :(( ldr sucks :(( (dividers: @/cafekitsune) reblogs & interactions are always appreciated !

#ᯓ★ : written in the stars !#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader

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mcu-coworkers · 5 months ago

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Exploring The Prince

Summary: Seeing Aegon again brought something new out of you.

Pairing: Aegon ii Targaryen X Targaryen reader

A/N: This is a part 2 to A Weeks Time which can be read here I plan to continue this series as season 2 goes on so I will tag those parts as I go. I hope you like them and enjoy. :)

(As always I do not own the gif or the characters involved :))

You had traveled from Dragonstone to Kingslanding countless times before this.

But back then it was different, back then you were going to visit your grandfather and cousins nervous for what would break out in a fight first.

Between your cousins and brothers there was always something.

You were lucky to have Helaena in all of this. If not for her they would have driven you to insanity.

”Are you ready my dearest sister?” Lucerys asked as he crept up behind you.

The three of you decided to ride on a dragon back to Kingslanding while your mother and Daemon rode with your younger siblings.

This only meant you would arrive some time earlier than your mother and Daemon, luckily you have your brothers by your side.

” I am as ready as I can be brother.” You answered with a soft smile.

”My sister, do you want this? This marriage to Aegon?” He asked.

Turning to him I noticed his look of confusion.

”It was not an idea of mine, but it is my duty if it is requested by the king.” You answered as you walked closer to him. “Does it bother you Luke?” You asked, looking at his face for an answer.

Although a blind man could have seen it from miles away.

”They aren’t very fond of us, they never have been. I just don’t want him or his brother to take it out on you, I worry for you my sister.” He said taking your hand in his.

”Luke, you are an angel sent from the gods themselves.” You exclaimed as you hugged him tightly.

Moments like this made your eyes tear up, Rhaena was lucky to be his betrothed.

“ I promise you, If I need your rescue I will fly back to Dragonstone at once.” You said smiling at him hoping to ease his conscience.

Before he could say anything else Jacaerys interrupted you both by joining in on your hug.

”Will the two of you wrap this up? We must get on with it if we want to deliver our sister to the wolves by the end of day Luke.” He said attitude dripping from every word.

Deadpanning and looking at Jace he ruined your efforts to ease Lukes mind.

”Jacaerys! I am not being fed to the wolves and if I were I have my dragon I can come back at anytime.” You responded annoyed with your brothers sour mood.

”Besides, Aegon has yet to cause me any discomfort.” You said as a matter of fact.

”That’s because out of us four,” he said pointing at us, “You are the only one who resembles them.” He said, swirling a strand of your white hair in his finger.

”That is not my fault Jacaerys. I wish it were different.” You said feeling a sense of guilt.

You didn’t know why things happened the way that they did but they did and you had no choice in the color of your hair.

Only the gods know why you did.

Sighing, Jacaerys knew he let his mouth go too far.

”My apologies my sister, I did not mean to upset you.” He said this time with a genuine tone in his voice.

Grabbing both of their hands you made them look at you.

”This moment in my life is meant to bring peace between our families, promise me you won’t do or say anything to ruin that? Please.” You begged.

You couldn’t live in a world where you had to choose between your brothers and your betrothed.

You wouldn’t.

Looking at each other your brothers sighed as a form of acceptance.

”You have our word sister, we will not start anything, we will only defend ourselves should they start it first.” Jacaerys finished.

You couldn’t win with these two but you’d take anything at this point.

”Thank you,” You said as you hugged them both, “Now shall we get going? We have a long day of travel ahead of us.” You said as you led them to your dragons.

——

While you rode through the sky with your brothers Kingslanding prepared for your arrival.

Among them was Aegon.

Last he saw you, your brothers had taken Aemonds eye and your mother married Daemon.

All of these years and just now he wondered what you might look like now.

He wondered if you were still and kind and gentle as he remembered.

If your hair was still as soft as it felt when he’d play with it while he told you stories of all the dragon riders he read about.

He knew one day you’d grow to be a beautiful young woman and any man would be lucky to have you at his side.

Little did he know that when that day came he was to be that man for you.

And he only hoped to be enough.

”Lost in thought my brother? I don’t believe I have ever seen you this silent.” A voice said behind him.

Turning to reveal Aemond as the voice to startle his thoughts he turns back to his view of the city.

”That’s because I ’ve never been my dearest brother.” He said, admitting to his change.

”And what’s brought this out of you?” Aemond pushes, although he already knew the answer.

The truth is Aemond had known for years, no one calmed Aegon the way your presence did. It surprised him that Aegon didn’t realize this in the years you two lived under the same roof.

He questioned if Aegon himself even knew it now. How could one be so blind yet have both eyes?

He’d never understand.

“Just saving my energies for Jacaerys and Luke, you know they can come in quite strong sometimes.” He said absentmindedly.

Aegon didn’t want to let Aemond in on his thoughts.

They were of you, and you were pure, he would not let his brothers hatred for yours damage that image.

Chuckling at Aegon Aemond smirks, “And there he is.”

”Now that I see you are well and intact, I should have you know that she arrived quite some time ago.” Aemond said, unable to hold back his amusement at the way his brother's head whipped in his direction.

“What? How long ? I didn’t expect them so soon.” He said standing to walk past his brother.

”They rode on dragon back, seems its only her and her brothers.” Aemond said with mischief in his tone.

Aegon stopped in his tracks upon hearing it.

”Listen to me brother, any ideas you may have, rid yourself of them. If not for her sake then mine. She deserves none of it.” Aegon said, “Give me your word Aemond.” He finished forcing his brother to look him in the eyes.

”Fine, you have my word. But do not waste your time looking for her now, the queen has taken it upon herself to receive them. You won't see her until dinner tonight.” Aemond said, walking past his brother.

Damn my mother and her ways.

——

Dinner could not have arrived soon enough for the both of you.

The Queen managed to keep you quite “busy” for all those hours with her rant of her new found religion.

Aegon on the other hand was forced to pace in his quarters, too annoyed to deal with anyone yet too impatient to sit still and read one of his books.

He wondered if you’d still like to listen to the stories he read like before.

Or if your brothers had poisoned your mind with whatever distasteful thoughts that came out of their mouths.

The thought angered Aegon.

Before he could indulge in such poisonous thoughts a maid knocked on his door.

”Dinner is ready to be served my lord.” She said quickly before turning away.

Finally, Aegon thought.

Aegon all but barged in into the dining room expecting to see everyone but finding no one.

”Dammit.” He cursed as he grabbed a cup and served himself a large amount of wine.

Sitting himself in his assigned seat he waited for the rest to follow.

After your afternoon with the queen you had only a few moments to ready yourself for dinner before your brothers came in to walk you down.

As the three of you walked down the halls you began to fiddle with your fingers.

What if he changed? What if he really was all that you heard and worse?

Standing at the doors of the dining room you took a deep breath and prepared yourself.

Whatever he was now, he was to be your husband and only that could you be sure of.

As the doors opened you put on your gentlest smile and prepared yourself for whatever greeting you’d be given.

”There they are, come my grandchildren.” Viserys said as he waved for you all to join his side.

Quickly you did as he asked joyfully to hear his voice.

”Hello grandfather.” You said as you bowed to his grace.

“My dear y/n how beautiful you’ve come to be, come sit next to your betrothed.” He said, turning to Aegon.

You could feel your brothers stare at the back of your head as you turned yourself to face Aegon.

Walking towards him you bowed your head slightly, “My prince.”

“My betrothed.” He answered with a quiet smile.

Offering his hand to you, taking his hand you walked with him and sat by his side.

Sitting down you began to feel how different things would be.

Your brothers across from you instead of next to you and you next to Aegon.

“Lost in thought?” You heard from next to you.

Turning you came face to face with Aegon.

“My apologies, This is the first I have a second to do so.” You said, taking in his features.

Blue eyes, soft skin. His hair was shorter.

His shoulders more broad, jawline sharper. It was no surprise to you that Aegon aged well.

“Tell me.” He requested softly.

“May I be honest, my prince?” You asked.

My prince, Aegon thought. In that you were right. From the moment he saw you walk in those doors he was devotedly yours.

“ If I am to be your husband, we must learn to trust each other so please, be honest.” He said, watching your eyes soften sensing your relief brought him happiness.

Smiling, you talked to him about your day with the queen and how little interest you truly had in the faith of the seven but listened to her out of respect to your queen.

It wasn’t until you began to talk about your ride here that he finally saw your features light up.

The way you spoke of your dragon, the smile you carried, the glimmer in your eyes.

He only hoped you’d glow like this at the mention of his name some day.

Eventually dinner came to an end and your brothers stood to walk you back to your room.

“ I can walk her back to her room, Jacaerys.” Aegon insisted on wanting to have more time with you.

“Don’t be mad, it is not custom for you to be alone until you wed, come sister.” Jacaerys demanded for your hand.

Wanting to avoid a fight, you took your brother's hand and bid Aegon goodnight.

You enjoyed your time with him and could only wish it lasted longer but for now you’d wait until tomorrow.

Aegon watched as your brothers whisked you away to your chambers only wishing he could follow.

Instead he found the nearest bottle of wine and his glass and took himself to his chambers to await for the next day full of you to come.

After some while of not being able to find sleep you debated finding a maid to bring you tea or just simply taking a stroll in the garden to bring you peace.

Deciding for the ladder you grabbed your robe and made your way to the door.

Opening your door you stopped in your tracks when you came to face with Aegon back facing you.

“Aegon.” you said gently.

Turning to face you Aegon tries to make up an excuse as to why he was at your door late in the night.

Not finding any he decides to allow his mind to speak freely.

“ I couldn’t sleep, I needed someone to talk to. Is that alright?” He said, taking steps towards you.

“ I am your betrothed Aegon, it is my duty to tend to you now.” You said as you looked into his eyes a dark blue you had yet to witness from him.

A look you didn’t recognize just yet, but you would soon.

“May I come in my dearest?” Aegon asked looking down at you too close for temptation.

Giving it no second thought you stepped aside allowing him the space to come in.

Smiling at your invitation he walked in and settled for a couch at the foot of your bed.

Only then as you walked towards him did he notice your attire.

A silk gown covered with a silk robe, your hair brushed out and beautiful.

You made it difficult for him to respect your virtue and you didn’t even know it.

Sitting beside him you waited for him to speak.

Too distracted in his own thoughts you decided to interrupt.

“So what was it?” You asked breaking the silence.

“Hmm? What was what?” Aegon asked being brought back to reality.

You smiled amused at his ability to get lost in his thoughts just as easy as you did.

Realizing what you meant he quickly worked to find the words.

“Right well,” he paused turning to look at you unsure of how you would feel by his question, “What is the craziest thing you’ve done?” He asked.

Slightly taken aback by his question you took a second to think.

“ I - I am not sure by what you mean, the craziest?” You asked hoping he’d clarify.

Turning his full body to you he clarified, “When your mother was younger I heard of the stories where she’d sneak past the walls of the castle and sneak off. Have you ever done such a thing?” He asked curious to know how much you resembled your mother.

This statement made you timid toward the prince.

You’d never even thought to do such a thing. Maybe he’d find you too innocent for his liking at the revelation.

Sensing your answer in your silence Aegon reassured you by putting a hand on your lap.

“It’s alright if you’ve done nothing of the sort, we'll soon have our chance to do all sorts of things. The castle will be yours to do as you please.” He said rubbing his hand on your thigh not realizing the touch as innocent as it was left you feeling hot.

This was new to you.

The thoughts that ran through your mind as he continued to lay his hand upon you so gently.

“All sorts of things?” You asked barely above a whisper as you inched yourself closer to Aegon.

Any kind of sense leaving your mind.

“Yes, we can start exploring tonight if you’d like. Is there something you would like to see?” He asked, noticing your sudden closeness again reminding himself of his need for restraint.

“Anything?” You asked, a look of innocence in your eyes.

“Anything.” He whispered, kissing your hand.

Observing the act you pondered your next move.

On one hand you knew this was wrong on so many levels on the other hand you were losing sight of that mentality the longer his hand stayed in place.

Letting temptation win you take a hold of his hand as you look into his eyes and move his hand to the place where you need him to explore.

You know he’ll be able to help you with this temptation, after all he was to be your husband.

Looking down at the new location of his hand he clenched his jaw fighting for what little restraint he had left.

“My dearest-“ he tried but it only brought you closer to him as he began to lose what little control he had over himself.

Close enough to close the gap with a kiss. But Aegon knew it wouldn’t end with that if you allowed him.

“We are to be wed. Why not explore me?” You asked looking down at his lips wondering how it would feel to be kissed.

His breath hitched in his throat at your words.

“Why must you make it so hard to respect your virtue?” He asked, feeling your hand on his face.

“Then don’t my prince.” You said pulling him to you and closing the gap with a soft gentle kiss.

Pulling away to look into his eyes you saw the darkness behind them now understanding what it was.

For you felt it for him too.

Pulling you back to him this time Aegon grabbed you by the waist and put you on top of him as he kissed you deeply with passion as you tangled your hands into his hair.

Groaning at the sensation Aegon pulled your hips down to meet his, your heat only growing at the sensation of his cock.

Gasping as he moved your hips together, “Aegon,” you moaned into his ear needing more.

Quickly Aegon picked you up and moved you both to your bed.

“This is what you desire?” He asked, looking into your eyes and seeing them filled with lust.

“You are what I desire.” You said breathless and eager.

Those words were all Aegon needed before taking off what was left of the clothing you two had.

kissing your stomach he gently made his way up to you breast massaging your nipple gently whilst peppering kisses on the other sucking lightly on your nipple.

His touch brought quiet moans out of you as you indulge in the pleasure he gave you.

“Aegon please.” You moaned, pulling his face up to meet with yours.

Hoisting your leg onto his waist he lowered himself to kiss your lips.

“You’ll tell me if it's too much?” He asked wanting to hear your reassurance.

“Yes.” You whispered as you kissed the surface of his face not being able to get enough of him.

Kissing your lips once more this time he gently pushed himself in groaning at the sensation of your tightness.

Gasping at his size you looked down as you saw him slowly entering you, stretching your walls the deeper he went.

“Just a little more y/n, that’s it.” He said trying to focus on keeping it slow for you.

Once he was fully inside he gave you a moment to adjust before pulling himself out entirely and thrusting back in gently this time forming a pace you could grow used to.

Slowly the pain of the stretch began to turn into pleasure and your gasps turned into moans needing more

“Aegon,” you moaned into his ear, “Faster please.” You said as you wrapped your other leg around him.

“Fuck,” he said as he tried to hold on to what control he had from releasing into you too soon but your words only brought him closer.

Quickening his thrusts he grabbed a hold of your hip with one hand and held himself up with the other.

Looking down at your face almost brought him overboard as he saw the look of pleasure in your eyes.

His innocent betrothed lying beneath him as he plunged his cock deep into her soaking wet pussy.

And it was soaking wet for him.

“Aegon I - I’m-“ you tried to say but you were cut off by another moan yet he knew what you meant.

“ I know my darling, together.” He said as he rested his forehead on hers closing his eyes as he felt her tightening around him.

“Aegon!” She moaned, getting louder by the second.

Quickly Aegon kissed her to cover the sound of their climax until she came back down.

Kissing her forehead one last time before pulling out of y/n and falling to her side to catch his breath he thought about what just took place.

As did she.

Until this day she had never even had such impure thoughts.

She’d never understood what it was that came over her but the look in Aegon's eyes in that moment told her she wouldn’t need to.

Turning to face him she met him face to face with her innocent smile once again.

“For someone who said they needed someone to talk to, you didn’t do much talking,” you said, smiling.

“ I will have you all of daylight to listen to me talk tomorrow will I not?” He asked moving the few stray hairs from your face.

“You will, my prince.” You whispered as slumber began to consume your body.

Pulling you to his side Aegon kissed your head one last time before closing his eyes as well.

“Then until then my dearest.” He said as he joined you in slumber feeling a sense of fullness with you in his arms.

At Least until morning came.

#aegon targaryen x reader #king aegon #hotd aegon #aegon ii targaryen #house targaryen #house of the dragon #aegon x reader

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igotanidea · 6 months ago

Text

The little bean: Anthony Bridgerton x pregnant!wife!reader

A/N: So..... After my "Too much" series I've been asked to do something with Antony and pregnancy trope. And since 1) I got baby fever and 2) Bridgertons are back, there is no better time than now.

***

“Y/N, my love, what are you doing?”

“I’m holding a book…?”

Ever since Y/N found out she was pregnant with the heir (which she would rather address as her precious little baby, instead of giving him titles before he or she was even born) Anthony entered right into an overprotective mood. If anything he would just keep her home, away from any prying eyes, that – in his opinion – might somehow take a look inside, at his baby and perhaps, see the little one before it came into the view of a proud viscount father.

Y/N could barely walk around the Bridgerton household, let alone the garden, without her husband chasing after her with a very concerned look, ready to carry her wherever she wished, just so that her feet wouldn’t touch the ground.

There were so many dangers on the way after all.

Wild animals. (i.e. bees, dogs and strays cats)

Speeding carriages.

Stones on which she might trip and fall.

Too much sun.

Too little sun.

And worst of all-

Members of the ton.

It was merely the first trimester and viscountess was torn between calming Anthony down (tactfully avoiding the information that the next months will be much more challenging) or just rushing away to her mother-in-law (yet, again) to seek aid in keeping him in check.

And just when she thought the oldest Bridgerton could not get any more obsessive, he took the lecture she was reading out of her hands.

“My dear, you cannot carry such weights. It’s straining and I am to protect you from threats.”

“It’s a book…” she frowned a little, but not without a hint of amusement in her voice

“It’s heavy.”

“It's a 200 page novel…”

“It’s heavy.” Anthony’s voice was gentle, but firm. Both demanding and pleading.

“Anthony…”

“Y/N.”

“I can hold my own book.”

“We got servants for that. In fact – let me call upon your maid and –“ he started walking towards the door in sheer purpose to liberate his dearest wife from the unnecessary burden.

Nonetheless his dearest wife had quite a different plan, reaching to grab his hand and stopping him in his tracks.

“My love. Please, come. Let us sit.” She guided him to the ottoman, still keeping the soft touch that was grounding to him.

Much to her surprise Anthony rushed to the furniture first, fixing pillows and blankets so Y/N could sit comfortably. And apparently that word, in his language, meant sitting half a meter in the air, covered from head to toe, regardless of the perfect spring weather outside.

“Here. Perfect.” He flashed a perfect smile, content with the spot he made for her.

“Anthony…”

“Yes, my love?” as he spun around meeting with her desperate look, the smile slowly disappeared from his face. “Y/N? Are you not feeling well?” Anthony grabbed both her hands in his, searching her face for any symptoms of malaise, dizziness, nausea. “Do you need some water? Or-“

“No, no, Anthony, please just listen to me for a moment-“

“Perhaps I should call upon Daphne, she already had a child of her own and she would be of help. Or maybe my mother could-“

“Anthony!” she laughed whole-heartedly at his feverishness “I am not going to give birth in the fourth month of pregnancy! Please just calm down.”

“Just say a word and I’ll call for a medic immediately. Do not fret my dearest, I will take the best care of you. I swear on my life that-“

At that moment Y/N used the most effective way to stop his blubbering in the form of putting his hand on her slightly rounded belly in which their baby was healthily growing.

“Shh.” She whispered, putting her own palm on top of Anthony's, calming him down, letting him caress the stomach in hope to make him calm down. “It’s okay. Everything’s okay. I don’t need medic. Nor your mother. And certainly not your younger sister. I am feeling good and the only thing that concerns me is my husband's distress over nothing.”

“Nothing? You are carrying our baby!”

“And our baby needs his father to stop fretting.”

“But-“

“Here!” her eyes grew wide as she guided his hand to another place “did you feel it?”

“Was it--?” Anthony’s face expression mirrored the one of his wife.

“It kicked…” she whispered as their gazes met and for a second that extended into eternity, they just kept looking into each other’s eyes expressing so many feelings.

And then, almost as if in a dream, Anthony fell to his knees in front of Y/N, pressing his head into her belly.

“Our baby.” He whispered, kissing her body through the material of the dress. “our little baby.” He wrapped arms around her midsection with his ear pressed to the home of the child, almost hoping to hear him or her inside.

“Our baby…” she repeated with tears in her eyes. Despite knowing and obviously – feeling the imminent arrival of the new family member it was the first time she actually felt and knew. And it was beautiful. Her little bean was really there. Growing and waiting for the right moment to appear in the world, landing right into the waiting, safe arms of loving mother and father.

“Do you think it can hear us?” Anthony pressed one ear to her stomach, his entire face lighting up at the possibility.

“Depends.” She chuckled

“On what?” his eyes travelled up to meet hers.

“If I say yes, will that mean you start talking to my insides?”

Anthony smirked.

“I will do that, even if you say no.”

“Then why the question?”

“Testing your knowledge.”

“I am not a doctor, Anthony. My expertise in the area might be a little limited.”

“Very well. Then give me an answer as a mother, not a medic.”

“Yes. Yes, I think it can hear us.” She cupped Anthony’s cheek in the affectionate gesture. There was something utterly heartening in seeing him like this. Holding her (and/or the baby) like she was the most precious thing in the world, needing the assurance that his child was already reaching to him.

That it could hear him, even if it wasn’t even born yet. Hoping for the love of the Lord that it was truly happening. That in a few months, that were going to pass by with extraordinary speed, the little one, a girl or a boy, would take a corporal form. That the viscount would not only be a noble and a husband but would also take on the new role – a father. A protector. Caregiver. A teacher, guardian and a guide. That somehow – his life would be complete. He’ll have his own little family. Something that was nearly impossible to him a few years prior.

And now-

“Anthony…” Y/N whispered, wiping a single tear from his eyes. “Sweetheart, what is wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong, love. It’s all perfect.”

“Then why are you-?”

“I’m not.” He cleared his throat and gathered himself.

“Of course not.” She laughed softly brushing his hair. “But if you’d want to actually talk to the baby, that would stay in this little circle.”

Anthony smiled lovingly, grateful for having his miracle of a woman in his life. She understood him so perfectly well.

“We’re waiting for you, little one.” He whispered against her attire, with a little muffled voice, be it from emotions or closeness of his lips on her body. “You are already loved by two people, with more to come.”

‘You can say it Anthony…” Y/N whispered, knowing what he was holding back.

“I love you my little one.” The viscount whispered with the softest voice, caressing the place where the kick was previously felt.

And they stood like that for a while longer, enjoying that moment of joy and thinking about the future that looked quite bright.

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony x reader #anthony bridgerton x you #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton fanfiction #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #anthony x you #anthony bridgerton fluff

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cosmicpearlz · 5 months ago

Text

can you open up the door?

summary: you guys hated each other, so why does your heart feel broken when you see him with another girl?

pairing: jude bellingham x reader

a/n: i feel like i'm running out of ideas to write, please request anything! i absolutely love writing for jude and would love to hear what you wanna see/read :) anywho, enjoy my loves!

jude felt like he was on a high. winning the final cup with real madrid had been a dream come true. now, he gets to go home and relax before playing in the euro 2024 competition. although, going home also meant seeing the one person he dislikes. you and jude had a long history of hating/disliking each other. it was hard because of how much time you guys spend together, being that you not only shared the same friend group but the same best friend as well.

"you know jude is coming home, right?" trent says to you, while you rolled your eyes.

"yes yes, i know already. i promise to be on my best behavior," you attempted to give him your best smile. it only made the boy laugh at how you tried to hide your annoyance.

"why don't you guys like each other again? i feel like the two of you would be perfect together. a proper power couple if you ask me."

"never say that again. i wouldn't be caught-" before you could even finish your thought, jude comes through trent's door.

"daddy's home," you groaned at jude's crude language. upon hearing the groan, jude locks eyes with you. have you always been this pretty? somehow prettier than the last time he saw you. jude rids the thought out of his head and turns his attention to trent. they shared a hug before jude takes his seat right across from you on the other couch.

"you didn't tell me that you invited the yapper."

"and he didn't tell that the dickhead was coming. so i guess we're in the same boat," you crossed your arms to your chest and glared at jude.

"guys can we not start?"

"he literally started it first! i was here way before he came in and interrupted things."

"well guess who was in trent's life first? oh right, it was me. you're just some outsider that thinks she fits in but you don't."

you weren't sure why that hurt your feelings as much as it did. maybe because deep down, you felt like he was right. you moved from america to england for college as an exchange student and landed a job working for england's football team as their photographer. it's where you met trent and jude.

"you're such an asshole jude," you tried to ignore the stinging in your chest, as you packed up your stuff and getting ready walk to your apartment.

Jude began to feel guilty for obviously hurting your feelings. he doesn't know why he says what he says. it just comes out but he thinks that this time it was too far. trent had told him about how you felt a bit lonely sometimes being that you weren't from england, and here he had used it against you.

"dude," trent looks to jude with disappointment, as the door slams closed behind you.

"i know, i'm sorry. i don't know why i said it."

"why don't you guys get along?"

"i'm not even sure anymore. we just continue to hurt one another."

it's been weeks since you had last spoken to jude or trent. avoiding the both of them like the plague, pretending that you won't be leaving with them to germany in exactly two days. today, jobe had texted you that he was throwing a going away party for the three of you. you tried desperately tried to get out of going but the younger boy wasn't having it.

so you went, unfortunately. dressing in a black mini dress with the black red bottoms you saved up to purchase for graduation. finishing the look off with a red handbag. the loud music from the club greeted you, while you walked in.

"you made it!" jobe yells over the music, after seeing you walk in. you smiled and gave him a hug. it never made sense to you that jude's brother was nicer to you than he was.

"did i actually have a choice?"

"no."

"exactly," the two of you burst out into laughter, which caught jude's ears. he won't admit it to anyone but he knew your laugh like the back of his hand. it was one of things he liked about you.

"are you excited to leave for germany?"

"honestly, yes and no."

"why the no?" jobe leaned in closer to whisper, "anything to do with my brother?"

"no."

"i know when you're lying. it definitely has something to do with jude! why don't you guys just kiss and make up," you gasp at jobe and slapped his shoulder.

"news flash, we don't like each other. plus, i would never kiss him nor date him," you replied, causing the younger boy to roll his eyes.

jude overhead everything. would it really be so bad if you were to date him? he wasn't sure why that left a sour note in body but he was determined to not let it bother him. instead, deciding to occupy his time with the first pretty girl he saw. just to further deny those hidden feelings. to get over someone, might as well get under someone new.

"you've been avoiding me," you looked to find trent taking the seat next to you on the couch.

"i've simply been busy."

"doing what? moping?"

"hey, i don't mope."

"so what are you doing right now?"

"people watching." trent followed your line of vision, finding that you were looking at jude engaged in a conversation with a pretty girl. you watched as he moved closer to her, causing her to giggle and place a hand on his arm.

"you have feelings for jude." you quickly shake your head in defense.

"no i don't."

"stop lying to yourself. you guys are both attracted to each other but don't know how to act on it. you guys spent at least two years pretending to hate one another, why?"

"i don't know."

"but you do. just tell me why. i'm your best friend." somehow, your heartbeat felt as if it were louder than the music. you do remember why you originally started to dislike him but you've never said anything.

"it's because i overheard a conversation between the two of you. we were already friends but it was the day you were going to introduce me to jude. i heard him say 'she will never be on my level or in my league'." you felt your eyes water as you brought up the same awful feelings you felt back then.

"y/n that's not what he meant. you didn't hear the rest of conversation."

"whatever, i don't care." you pick up your handbag and stand to leave. the saltiness of the tears falling onto your cheeks, no matter how hard you tried to hide it. trent stands up with you, trying to offer some sort of comfort that you didn't want. it was embarrassing enough to cry over someone that wouldn't even give you a second thought.

"i think i'm going to go home."

"y/n."

"i'm fine trent. please let me go," you whisper, not being able to look up from your heels. he nods at you and you take that cue to leave. rushing out of the loud atmosphere to the quiet outside air. jude's eyes follow your figure as you rushed out. immediately, he ignores the girl he was flirting with to follow you outside. you notice a tug on your arm, turning around you see the last person you wanna see.

"jude, i'm not in the mood."

"what's wrong?"

"why would i tell you? go flirt with the girl you were just with."

"well something is wrong with you and i want to make sure you're okay."

"why do you even care? i'm just an outsider trying desperately to fit in, right?" you watched as jude's mouth opens and closes, with furrowed brows, you scoffed.

"exactly. goodnight jude," you took one more look at him before getting into your uber that happened to show up at the right time.

jude walks back into the club with an angry expression on his face. he was more mad at himself rather than anyone in specific. he walks to trent, who was sitting in the same spot, nursing the same drink.

"please tell me what happened. i knew she was okay and then i seen her walk out."

"i totally knew it. you guys have feelings for each other!"

"trent."

"she was looking at you with the girl at the bar and finally told me why you guys don't like each other. turns out, it was complete miscommunication. y/n overheard you say 'she'll never be on my level or in my league'. i tried telling her that you didn't mean it like that but she didn't want to hear it."

the realization dawned on Jude as he thought back to that day. trent showed him one picture and he swore that he could have fallen in love right there. you had mixed his words up to rejection rather than realizing he meant that you were too good for him. maybe he could have worded it differently. you guys certainly wouldn't be in this mess now. would you guys be wrapped up in the same bed sheets whispering to each other? would you be at his football matches in madrid? would you visit him and let him show you around? a whole year he's played on the team and a whole year you could have already been his.

you were relaxed in your bed, having criminal minds in the background. the only sort of comfort you could find. stupid feelings and stupid jude. you wanted the floor to swallow you whole and then maybe you wouldn't have to deal with this.

a knock on the door draws your attention. who would be knocking at two o'clock in the morning? you get up from your bed, walking into the living room towards the door. you opened the door, finding Jude standing there with a small smile.

"what do you want?"

"to talk."

"no," you closed the door before the boy could say anything else. jude takes this sign to keep knocking, instead of just leaving.

"open the door. please, just hear me out and I'll leave you alone afterwards." you leaned your head on the door debating on letting him in.

"open up the door. i'm not leaving until you do." you finally open the door after two minutes, afraid that the knocking was going to bother your apartment neighbors. you pulled him inside and closed the door once again.

"what do you-"

"you have it all wrong. what you overheard was wrong. i meant that you looked like you were too good for me. that i didn't even deserve to try and win you over. how could you ever think differently? you are the prettiest girl i've ever known-"

"jude."

"i was only rude to you because that's what you did to me when we first met. there are so many things i wish i did differently. i could be the one kissing your tears away and not causing them. you're not an outsider, far from it actually-"

"jude!" you finally got the boys attention, locking eyes with him. you couldn't believe that your feelings were returned. all the time that was wasted. without a second thought, you pulled his shirt collar and kissed him. your lips molded together perfectly. a sudden eagerness that made the kiss more intense. jude's hand slipping under your pajama top, to touch your bare skin trying feel closer to you. you pulled away first, feeling overwhelmed with emotions.

"i'm so sorry sweetheart. i didn't mean of it." jude swipes away the tears that fell from your eyes.

"i'm sorry too."

"you have nothing to apologize for. it's my fault."

"it takes two to tango jude. i've said some pretty awful stuff too and i'm sorry."

"where do we go from here? what do you truly want y/n? if you want to pretend this never happened, i'll comply." his eyes trailing your face for some sort of sign.

"i just want you."

"you have me baby. you always have," jude whispers, before connecting your lips together once more.

#jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham angst

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clemswinecorner · 1 month ago

Text

Neat [George Clarkey]

Summary: George and Y/N are dating, but no one is aware. It can make going out with their friends a bit... weird, a bit risky, but it works.

Wordcount: 2.1k

Warnings: sexual innuendos and alcohol, other than that it's fine

I'm in love with this man so here's a fic!

Main Masterlist

Gif from @g-xix

“We’re getting drinks, are you staying here?” Chris shouts over the loud Spanish music of whatever club they are in. Y/N looks around, seeing Arthur Television chatting with a couple of friends and Callum and Chip laughing with some guy they met when they went out some other time. “I’ll go with,” she gestures, and Chris nods as he follows George to the bar, occasionally checking if she’s still behind him. Although it was a Friday night, it was still relatively early, so the club wasn’t extremely busy yet. It was busy enough to have fun, but early enough to still be able to have a conversation with no interruptions, so they easily made their way over to the bar. As they arrive at the bar Chris starts speaking to the bartender, having heard everyone’s orders, and she softly puts her hand on George’s shoulder. He turns to her surprised, relaxing when he sees her. “Oh, I didn’t know you were walking with us!” She smiles, “Yeah, the rest was all in conversation anyway,” she explains, and he nods. Chris turns to the pair, “Do you want a pint?” He asks George, who contemplates his options before nodding. “Yeah. You as well?” He looks at the girl next to him, nodding. “Yes, but I also want to do tequila shots. Oh, and did you get a Guinness for Hill?” Chris looks at her surprised, “Wait, no, I didn’t, where is he anyway?” He asks before moving back to the bartender. “Could I get another 3 pints and a Guinness, please. Are we doing the shots now?” Chris turns to George and Y/N, who quickly make eye contact, before nodding. “Yeah, I’m down,” George answers, and Chris turns back to the bartender. “And three tequila shots, please, we’ll do those first and then take those other drinks back if that’s alright,” You look at George as you wait for the bartender. “Arthur went to the bathroom. You enjoying your night so far?” She asks, leaning closer. He nods, looking down at her, their faces a little too close for it to simply be friendly. Y/N glances towards Chris, tapping his phone on the card reader with the shots and limes already in front of him. “Yeah. What are you doing tonight, going to Becky’s?” She shakes her head, “No, she has to leave early tomorrow so she wouldn’t stay out too long. I’m not sure, why do you ask?” He shrugs, with a hint of a smile on his face. “Just thinking,” he says, moving away from her as Chris turns around. She sends him a knowing smirk as Chris hands out the shots. “Salt, babe, we need salt,” she tells him, and George is already leaning over the bar to grab one of the salt shakers. Y/N and Chris lick their palms and George twists some salt on them, “Okay, you do it for me,” he says, looking at the girl next to him. “What, d’you want her to lick you?” Chris chuckles, making a blush appear on the younger’s face, not realising the implications. “No, I meant like, the salt, not, what?!” He stutters, and Chris laughs even harder as she smiles, taking the salt from him. “Hurry up then, I want to take these shots!”

It’s busier by the time they’ve had a few rounds of drinks and shots. George was still relatively sober looking, having a fairly high tolerance, and Y/N wanted to be semi-responsible, going a bit easy. Unlike some of their other friends, who were already dancing— most of them dragged away by a drunk Chris, telling them how boring they were sitting around. Because their friends were all on the dance floor —or god knows where else in the club— George and Y/N didn’t really try to hide their affection. They were sitting together, her leg on his lap, one of his hands on her thigh and a drink in the other. “Are you staying at mine tonight?” He asks, and she nods. “Yeah, if the other boys don’t mind. Can’t really do anything then, though,” she says, and he shrugs. “It’d be weirder if I went to yours, I think, and with your roommates and stuff. Either way, I was thinking, maybe we could go out tomorrow? Grab a coffee, maybe have a cute little date?” He asks, just loud enough for her to hear. She chuckles, “You can’t get enough of me, can you? My roommates will be out tomorrow night, if you want to come over. We could make that taco thing you send me?” She suggests, and now he’s the one teasing her. “What were you saying about can’t get enough?” She rolls her eyes as he squeezes her waist. “Whatever, then I’ll make it by myself,” she says, and now he’s the one rolling his eyes. “I do have to hit the gym tomorrow, but you can leave whilst I’m gone, and we’ll meet for coffee after. Then do groceries and go back to yours?” She nods at his suggestion, “Yeah, sounds good. I have some work I planned to do tomorrow so that works perfect for me as well.” He frowns when she suddenly moves her legs away from his, turning towards him in a more casual way as she looks towards the dance floor. He follows her line of eyesight, explaining her change in behaviour, and looks back at her. “Are we letting Chris drag us away?” He asks as the mentioned man makes his way over. She smiles at their friend's clearly drunken state, “Yeah, someone has to look out for him. I could use some fun as well,” she says, and he fakes offence. “Is sitting in the corner of the club with me not fun enough for you?” She laughs, “Of course it is,” she leans closer to his face, as they both laugh, ready to kiss, before Chris’ voice brings them back to reality. They share a quick look, realising they almost got caught, and look over at their friend, that bumped into one of the tables and was cursing it out. They both have to hold in their laughs, as he makes his way over. “It’s funny, it almost looked like you were kissing from there, imagine how crazy that would be,” The two share a look once again, both aware Chris will have forgotten this by the morning. “Yeah, imagine. Hey, do you wanna dance again, or did you come here just because?” She asks, brushing off his comment. George chuckles as Chris enthusiastically nods, “yeah, c’mon!” He says, already turning around. George follows, holding his hand for her to grab, in order to not lose each other. No other reason, of course. She takes it with a smile, as Chris leads them through the crowd. Right when they reach their other friends, the first notes to Maneater are heard, and George turns around, already expecting the big smile on Y/N’s face. “Oh my god, this is a banger!”

The way home went by fast, if you asked Chris and Arthur. They split off relatively quickly with their other friends, some staying at the club and some sharing an Uber home. Chris, Arthur, George and Y/N decided to simply walk back since it was, in theory, only twenty minutes, and it was nice to be in the fresh air for a bit. Chris and Arthur, both still in a drunken state, were giggling joking around, as George and Y/N walked behind them. “I feel like we’re very much being the parents, right now,” Y/N jokes, already on their way for twenty minutes and still being at least ten minutes away, and George chuckles as they walk with their arms interlocked. They knew their friends wouldn’t think much of it, both of them always being affectionate with their friends even sober, and the pair were also too drunk to realise it could mean something. “Don’t act like it hasn’t been the other way around, do I have to remind you of the XIX party two weeks ago?” She gasps at the memory, where she was in a very similar state as Chris was right this moment, and he was making endless fun of her. “Okay, well. You didn’t have to say that. Next time, I won’t come back to your place then,” she says, reminding him of what happened the morning after. “Hey, I wasn’t complaining!” She chuckles, as she looks at the boys in front of them crossing the road.

They walk in silence for a while, before Y/N speaks up. “Do you think they have any idea this is happening?” She wonders, looking at him. He looks at his roommates and back at her, confused by her question, “About what?” She looks at the boys. “Us. That we’re like, dating,” He turns to her as they stop at the traffic light, waiting for the cars to drive by. “I don’t know. Do you want them to?” He studies her face, trying to find an answer somewhere. She shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s more like… I don’t know, Chris comment made me think. They’re your roommates, I know we’re being a bit careful, but they know the both of us so well. But also, if they knew, would they have said something?” George takes in a deep breath. He looks at the boys walking a couple of meters in front of them, not having realised the other two had to stop at the crossing. “Sometimes I think Arthur might know, from my side at least. He hasn’t said it, but I think he just thinks I haven’t realised, but I obviously have,” she looks up at him curiously. “Realised what?” He turns to her with a soft look in his eyes. “How in love with you I am,” he simply says. Her eyes widen a bit— this was unfamiliar territory for them. He realises too, as he looks away from her again. “Shit, sorry, that, okay, that was quite-,” She immediately interrupts, as she stops them from walking any further. “I’m in love with you too. Like, actually,” He looks at her, a genuine smile on both their faces. “Okay. Okay, good,” he simply says, as they get closer to each other. She giggles, “yeah?”, she asks, and he nods, “yeah, very good.” They both smile as they kiss each other, lost in their own worlds, before they hear their names being called. “Oh my god, I forgot about them,” George says annoyed, but still with a smile. She laughs, “Yeah, okay, maybe this wasn’t the best place and time for this, but it’s fine. We should definitely get to them before they take the wrong turn,” he laughs and nods, giving her one last quick kiss.

George grabs her hand, but quickly lets it go again as they go around the corner, where their friends are waiting. “Finally!” Arthur exclaims as Chris is leaning against him. “Jesus, what were you doing, shagging each other? Should’ve done that in the bathroom,” Chris jokes, and they awkwardly laugh. Their friends were too drunk to remember the specific comment in the morning, but Y/N doesn’t miss the way Arthur inspects George's face. “Traffic light. Alright, c’mon boys, I want to sleep,” Y/N answers, getting the group to walk on again. “I think you’re right about Arthur,” she softly tells George, who looks down at her with a questioning face. “That he knows you like me. Doesn’t have a clue we’re actually together though, I think,” she explains, and he nods, sighing softly before turning towards her again. “Do you want them to know?” He asks, and she’s somewhat surprised by the question. “I don’t know. I mean, I wouldn’t mind them knowing, like, I don’t care, but… I think it’s neat, us being like this — without anyone interfering with our relationship. I love them, but I also love this little thing we have going on, you know,” she explains, and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, me too,” she inspects his face, trying to find a sign of dishonesty. “You know, if you’re sick of having this relationship being a secret I don’t mind telling them, if that’s what you want,” he looks over at her with a smile. “No, it’s not that. It would make things easier, but once they know we can’t go back, you know?” She nods, looking at their friends, oblivious to the conversation the couple behind them is having. “I think we should just… Let them figure it out. Hide it, but you know, care a little less? If they find out, they find out,” She suggests. He nods, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. “Yeah, that sounds great. When they ask why I’m so happy tomorrow I’ll say it’s because I had some godly pussy,” she rolls her eyes and pushes him away chuckling. “You’re horrible,” she exclaims, and he just laughs, “You love me!” He says as they approach the boys' flat. She shakes her head, “Unfortunately, I do.”

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