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exitpursuedbyavulcan · 1 year ago

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Studious V (Aemond Targaryen x Reader) 18+

Aemond reads your notes, and you both finally come clean. After he introduces you to his best friend, you invite him back to your chambers.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader (second person, no use of Y/N)

Warnings: OOH BOY ITS TIME! We got tiddy suckin', we got fingering (f receiving), we got oral sex (f receiving), and we got p in v sex (finally), and of course, Aegon!

Author's Note: Bone apple teeth, y'all

Read Part I Here - Read Part II Here - Read Part III Here - Read Part IV Here - Read Part VI Here

My Masterlist

Taglist will be done via reblogs (there are simply too many of you to fit here)

Studious V

Only a few minutes later, you sat across from Aemond at the small dining table in his chambers – obviously only ever intended for one. He had to drag one of the chairs by the hearth across the room just so you could sit with him. For he had insisted you stay while he read your notes, assuring you that it would not take long.

“I read very quickly,” he explained. “I have to, if I hope to read everything I want to.”

Now, you sat silently across from him as you watched him read. He held your diary in his right hand while his left held open his own where it rested on the table. While reading, he would often look between the two, cross-referencing what you had written about with his original entries.

It was quite amusing, being able to watch his reactions. Subdued as they were, you still caught him, on various occasions, both smiling and frowning. He even blushed once! You smiled as you recalled him doing the same to you – watching your face as you read in the library. Perhaps you were more similar than you had once thought.

For a long while, Aemond said nothing. He hardly even looked at you – only glancing up a few times and shying away when he noticed you looking back.

Until once, he did not look away. Though he did blush quite deeply.

“I apologise,” he whispered, “I did not realise how… detailed I was in some instances. You should not have had to read such depravity. Please, forgive me.”

So, he reached the library entry. And you had not written anything in response – a stark difference from every other entry. It was no wonder that he thought you offended. But you were most certainly not offended, and you had heard enough apologies from him to last you the rest of your lifetimes.

You reached across the table – hardly difficult, as it was so small – and brushed your fingers against his. The urge to fully take his hand was strong, but you did not want to push too far before the two of you had settled everything.

“There is no need to apologise,” you said, your first words since you gave him the diaries. “It is perfectly natural for a man to… think about his wife in such a way. Didn’t Septon Eustace tell you that so long as we were married, lust is not a sin?”

Aemond smiled a little at that, but his brow was still furrowed in concern, as if he did not believe you entirely.

“I actually –” you began, laughing a little as you spoke to relieve the tension. “I actually found it quite… interesting.”

“Oh!” Aemond’s mouth fell open, and his eye widened in the same expression that had once made you think he looked like a freshly caught fish. This time was perhaps even more satisfying than the first, as a flush quickly spread across his face and climbed all the way to his ears, until he was as red as his family crest.

“I… um, I am glad,” Aemond’s statement sounded curiously more like a question as his eye darted from you to the table to the diaries. “I thought that… I suppose… I was just… I still – I am still sorry.”

And with that, he turned back to diaries.

Judging by the position of the sun – which you were never very good at, so your estimations were far from precise – it took less than an hour for Aemond to finish reading. You had passed nearly all the time by surveying his rooms.

His rooms were immaculate, which was no surprise. Everything spotless and precisely arranged. Each tapestry, of which there were few, was hung perfectly. The vases on a table near the hearth were spaced so evenly that you could not imagine how it could have been without a measuring stick. And the books on the many bookshelves were well organised.

But as well as it was kept, it did not feel like Aemond. The tapestries were finely made, but the subjects – one hunting scene, one depiction of the Red Keep, one of the Seven, and one of a dragon that did not look like any of the ones you had heard described – were very standard. The vases were well crafted, but they, too, were plain. Two in varying shades of brown, one brass, and one in a simple pattern of brass and black. Even the bookshelves seemed impersonal. They were filled to the brim with leather and linen tomes, each as pristine as they must have been when they were first bound.

There were no little trinkets, personal items, or anything else that would identify Aemond as the occupant. If not for its position at the heart of the Holdfast or the fact that you could see Aemond’s sword and dagger leaning against a wardrobe in what must be the bedroom, you would think these were guest quarters.

How was he content with living in such an impersonal space?

You had filled the walls of your rooms until you could hardly see the stone, cluttered your tables with crafting supplies and reminders of your home and family, and stuffed so many of the small items you had collected over your lifetime in your shelves that there was hardly room for books. And while Aemond had been fascinated by the decoration within your rooms, he had still chosen not to make his own a home.

Perhaps you could help him fix that.

But before you could start considering how to do so, you looked back to him and immediately became mesmerised. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his eye snapping between the two diaries with dizzying speed, and his lips slightly pursed. It almost seemed as though he was studying rather than simply reading.

He cared about this – very much so. He was almost… desperate.

Did he still think you would ask to be separated from him? After you had read his diary, as he asked? After you returned to him and offered your own? After you had assured him you were not repulsed by what he had written?

Had you really been so cold to him that he could still believe you would run away?

A chill settled over you at the possibility. Perhaps several days ago, you may have accepted his offer to return to your home. Now, the thought of leaving him made you almost nauseous, though you were not entirely sure why. You wrapped your arms around yourself and cast your gaze down to the table surface.

“I’ve finished,” Aemond said merely a moment later. You looked up to see him setting your diary down next to his, then turning the pages of each back to the beginning of your shared story.

You sat up straighter in your chair, first placing your clasped hands on the table, then in your lap, then unclasping them so you could bunch the skirts of your dress in your hands – both to try and calm your nerves and soak up the moisture that had begun to form the moment Aemond spoke again. After you gave him a short nod, he began.

He laid his clasped hands atop the diaries, then separated them to grip the edges of the table on either side of the journals, then finally deciding to keep one hand on his diary while the other picked up his quill pen, which he began to fiddle with restlessly.

“I, um… I should like to start by thanking you for reading this,” he said, his voice less sure than you were used to. He did not meet your gaze, instead looking straight down at the books before him. “And I wish to apologise – again. First, for being so incompetent that this was the only way I could express my feelings, and secondly, for the admittedly humiliating things you read.”

“Aemond,” you interrupted before he could continue. When he looked at you in near panic, you scoffed and shook your head slightly. “If you apologise to me again, I might scream.”

He looked shocked by your words, then nodded gravely. “I did not realise how often I was doing so. I ap… shit, no.” He shut his eye and heaved a great sigh. “I will endeavour to do so less in the future, though I cannot promise I will not have to, on occasion.” The corner of his mouth quirked in the shadow of a smile as he winced slightly. “We both know how often I have cause to.”

“That is acceptable,” you whispered, “thank you.”

Both of you smiled at each other, your gazes locked. The moment lingering a bit longer than it would have with a stranger or even a friend. Then Aemond turned back to the diaries and frowned.

“I don’t quite know…” he trailed off, shaking his head slightly. “Forgive me, but my first reply to your notes was to be an apology for the careless and mean-spirited remarks I made about the merits of embroidery. I don’t know what to say if I am forbidden to apologise.”

You blinked, unsure of what to say. Yet it pleased you greatly that he was taking your request that he stop apologising so seriously.

Aemond did not wait for you to give him an answer, speaking with both urgency and sincerity. “It was thoughtless of me to write what I did. I was exhausted by the day and unhappy with how my grandsire chose to conduct my betrothal and marriage. And admittedly, I know little about the craft, and therefore underestimated it.”

“I am touched by your words,” you whispered, flustered by the intensity with which he regarded you, as if whatever you said next held the power to either destroy him or build him higher. “Perhaps, instead of apologising, you could tell me how you intend to make amends?”

“Of course,” his face lit up when he realised you were not upset with him. “I… I will learn more about embroidery so that I may truly appreciate it. Could… would you be willing to teach me?”

Based on the moment of panic that you saw come over him, you knew your shock at the request was rather poorly concealed. Bashfully, Aemond looked away. “After seeing the beautiful things that you have created – or I assume you have, as they were in your rooms, and depicted your home and interests – I truly wish to understand how they are made.”

Gods, he was serious. He truly wanted you to teach him how to create embroidery! The very idea was so amusing you could not hide your smile. “That is a wonderful solution, Aemond,” you said with all the reassurance you could muster. “I look forward to seeing what beautiful things you will make.”

“Oh, I am certain that compared to you… I mean, your own works, my attempts will seem quite poor. Laughable, even.”

“Well, I have had many years of practice,” you replied, “and a true love of the craft. It gives me an advantage over you. Although having seen you fight, I believe you have great potential as an embroiderer.”

Aemond’s head tilted slightly. “I don’t understand how the two skills correlate.”

“You fight with precision,” you explained, feeling yourself flush at the memory of him in the training yard. “Your movements are controlled and exact. The same skills are required in embroidery.”

“Then perhaps learning embroidery will further improve my fighting skills,” he said, almost jokingly. But any hint of a smile faded quickly, and he ducked his head, looking up at you as he continued. “I… I would like it if you could continue to come and watch me. When I practice. Not every day if you don’t want to, but every few days? Only if it would interest you, of course.”

“It would interest me very much!” you said, probably too quickly. But you had thought about Aemond wielding his sword so many times in the days since you actually saw him, and you were eager to see it again – and more of it. Up close, preferably.

He blushed again, though he reined it in much faster this time and resumed his cool, almost bureaucratic demeanour. “As for your list of books – some I have read, some I have heard of, and others I know nothing about. I would like to sit down with you and discuss them all. We could do that now, if you’d like?”

“I appreciate the thought, but today, I think we have more important things to discuss?” Indeed, you hadn’t anticipated this much discussion. You hadn’t even thought he would want you to remain with him while he read. But here you sat, not in your own rooms, in a carriage on your way home, or – as you had half-hoped for – in a bed.

Every moment you spent with Aemond was another agonising moment you spent not knowing what would happen between you. You were so eager for an answer – a conclusion.

But it was only fair that Aemond be allowed to respond to your comments and questions, so you bit your lip and prepared for more. After all, your husband was quite thorough. That much was clear from his research.

“Indeed we do,” he said as he flipped over a page of his diary. “I would be more than happy to take you to the Grand Sept. The family attend service there instead of the Royal Sept at least once per moon turn, but we can certainly go sooner if you prefer. It wouldn’t have to be for a service. We could just… go.”

“Choose a day,” you said, “and I will be with you.”

“I can’t wait for you to see it,” Aemond said with a smile. “It is truly…”

“Grand?” you offered.

“Yes, it has been named well,” his smile grew wider. “I am beginning to think that I, too, need to create a list of all the times you’ve made me laugh.”

You cocked your head, perplexed. “But… you didn’t laugh.”

“Oh, um…” Aemond looked away and grimaced, tapping his pen against his diary several times. “I don’t, often, laugh. Not aloud, at least.” After a deep inhale, he faced you again. “I assure you though, I felt like laughing! But I will try to do so in future, so it will be easier to know when I am amused.”

“No, Aemond,” you chided softly. “I don’t want you to change yourself for me. Now that I know what you look like when you ‘feel like laughing,” I will be able to recognise it. And, based on how extensive my list was, I believe I will laugh aloud enough for the both of us.”

He flipped to the page where you had made your list – throughout reading his diary, you would often return and add onto it, until it took up most of the page. He stared at it for a long moment, running his fingers over the words as if he could feel them. “I am immensely glad to have made you laugh, for there is nothing I desire more than to see you happy.”

Heat spread over every inch of your skin as you flushed, both from his words and what you were about to say. “There is ‘nothing you desire more?’” You bit your lip as you pointed to his diary. “Some of your later entries suggest otherwise.”

Aemond’s flush quickly grew to match your own. “I… there are things I desire nearly as much, but your happiness remains the greatest of them all.”

You both stayed there for a long moment, blushing and smiling at each other. All the while, you willed your racing heart to calm and your burning skin to cool. But beneath Aemond’s gaze, there was no hope for either. He looked at you with not only a lustful hunger but with admiration, longing, and a kind of reverence that made you at once bashful and confident.

If you stayed that way for much longer, you felt as though you would combust.

“I believe you skipped ahead a few entries,” you said. Even the whisper sounded like a shout in the silence that had descended upon you.

“Indeed I have,” he half-laughed, returning the diary to where he had left off. “My ap… I will begin again in the proper place. Please, inform me if I stray again?”

“I will,” you assured, nearly laughing yourself.

His eye lingered on you for a moment before he actually began again. “I wish I had danced with you all night,” he said, his smile fading as he looked at your next note morosely. “It had been my plan, actually. But as you read, I feared that if I remained so close to you, looking as radiant as you did, I would have done something untoward and inappropriate. Worse, I feared doing something you would not want.”

He would not meet your eye, but still, you spoke. “I admit, had you started ravishing me on the dancefloor, I likely would have reacted poorly,” you said with sombre humour. Aemond didn’t acknowledge it. “But I wanted to dance with you, talk to you. To begin to understand the man with whom I would spend the rest of my life.”

Aemond pursed his lips, his lone eye blinking furiously.

“If you had kissed me then,” you continued, though you doubted it was a good idea, “I would have welcomed it.”

You swore you saw a flash of tears in his eye before hanging his head so low his face was hidden. “I swear to you that, from this moment on, I will dance with you whenever you want,” Aemond whispered, his voice low and crackling with emotion, “wherever we are, and whether we have music to accompany us or simply the rhythm of our own hearts.”

He raised his head to face you, his eye flicking back to the diary once before again fixing on you. “I also swear that you will never again fall asleep without my first wishing you goodnight. Even if we are parted and far from each other, I shall wish it upon the wind and pray that it carries my words to you.”

The vows settled on your heart with more weight and meaning than those he had sworn to you in the Sept. For these were not of words written by a Septon long ago and repeated by countless men and women in their own marriages. These vows were not shared – they were only for you.

It would only be proper for you to swear your own vows in return, but you did not know what to swear. Despite having read his diary, you did not know him so well as he knew you. Guilt threatened to overwhelm you, and you could only say a quiet thanks before signalling for him to continue.

You were silent for a while, offering only small smiles and nods as Aemond promised to not damage his finely made diary any further, told you that your wedding presents were being catalogued in the Royal Vault and would be returned to you soon, and that he had confirmed with Lord Jasper that Coryanne Wylde – his ancestor – was indeed the author of ‘A Caution for Young Girls.”

With each of his explanations, you only gave him half your focus, as the other half was occupied trying to figure out what you could swear to him. Perhaps that you would only ever wear nightclothes he found attractive?

For a moment, you were sure he could read your mind, as the moment after the thought came to you, he turned a page and began, “Your robe – ”

“What about it?” you asked, louder and more defensively than you originally intended.

Aemond stared at you, shocked by the sudden outburst. “I was going to say that I do not, in fact, hate it, I swear.”

“Oh,” you said, sinking slightly into your chair as your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“It is a very fine robe, well made and quite beautiful,” he continued, graciously ignoring your current state. “It just… it is so large that I feel as though you are hiding, and I don’t ever want you to hide from me. Or even feel like you must. I never meant to offend something you hold so dear.”

“Oh,” you said again. After correcting your posture to something decidedly more ladylike, you took a deep breath and gave an explanation of your own. “I wasn’t hiding, I promise. But that robe is one of the few things that makes me feel…” you struggled to find the right word. “Safe.”

Aemond’s face blanched, and while his eye hardened, his brow raised in concern. “The Red Keep – and the Holdfast especially – is the safest place in the realm, perhaps the world. No harm will come to you, I swear. I will – ”

You held up a hand to stop him, and despite his furore, he quieted at your command. “That’s not what I mean by ‘safe,’ Aemond.”

“Then I am afraid I don’t understand.”

With a sigh, you looked up at the ceiling, searching for a way to explain the complex feeling. “I don’t mean ‘safe’ in a physical way. I don’t fear that I will be harmed or killed. I mean safe in a… in my heart. Perhaps my soul too.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, but he said nothing, so you continued. “Since my family has left, I have felt very alone – painfully so. I hardly know anyone here, nor do they know me.” At that, your husband seemed ready to protest, but you did not let him. “From reading your diary, I do believe you know me. Better than I would have ever thought in the short time we have known each other. But even then, I have seen you so little, and spoken to you even less.”

He nodded, “Another failing I must atone for.”

“Well, I suppose I could have approached you myself. But after our wedding night…” Aemond flinched at the reminder but remained silent. “I was confused. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t quite that. And I know some of it is my fault! Please don’t blame yourself entirely. Still, you never spoke to me, not at court or at dinners. You never asked to see me or even escort me back to my rooms after dinner. I thought I had disappointed you, but I could not summon the courage to ask you how.”

“I never meant to abandon you,” Aemond murmured, “I just didn’t want to frighten you further. I was trying to – ”

“I know,” you smiled, inclining your head toward the diaries. “I understand now. But my understanding does not mean that I do not wish we had both made different choices.”

“As you said in your apology,” he said, almost to himself. Silence fell over you as he turned the page and traced his finger over your words again. “The robe is your reminder of home, where you are safe and loved, not scared and dreading the life ahead of you.”

“Yes.”

“And in my idiocy, I took that from you.”

“It was a shared idiocy,” you mused, grateful when Aemond’s tense shoulders dropped at your forgiving tone. “You were very kind to me that day, and yet I took the first opportunity to assume the worst of you.”

“I am afraid I gave you ample cause to assume the worst of me.”

“Maybe so, but I won’t do it anymore,” you felt meek saying the words, like a child promising their parents to stop misbehaving.

But then Aemond smiled, his cheeks tinged with colour again, and under his warm gaze, you felt… safe. “And I will not give you any more cause to.”

You smiled back, holding a girlish giggle, the origin of which was unknown to you.

“That reminds me,” Aemond said with a wicked grin. He tapped your open diary once, twice. “I like it when you scrunch your nose because of the delicious contradiction. Such an unpleasant expression upon the loveliest of faces.”

You pouted, then immediately realised your mistake when his grin grew wider and moved to cover your now-scrunched nose with your hands. Aemond only laughed at your embarrassment. “I cannot decide whether that is a compliment or not,” you said, causing another round of laughter.

“I assure you, it is meant entirely as a compliment,” he assured, still coming down from his amusement. He took a deep breath and then went still. “None could ever insult your appearance, for they could find no faults. And if they did… I would assure they were properly punished.”

Your flush was so great you could feel its heat when you dropped your head into your hands. “I suppose I should ask, how fares the painter who made my miniature?”

Another grin, this one positively lupine. “He has not been harmed, but I doubt he will ever again be commissioned by the noble families. If he does not flee across the Narrow Sea, he will be fortunate to find any amongst the smallfolk who can pay him more than a silver piece for his work..”

Such a severe punishment, just for a painting that had not shown your beauty? You didn’t know whether to be horrified or flattered. Or impressed that he held such influence. Judging by the fluttering feeling that filled your chest, you knew you were flattered more than anything. And the look on Aemond’s face, a look of pure confidence and power, stirred such powerful desire within you that you had to grip the arms of your chair to stop yourself from planting yourself on his lap – precisely as he had written about.

Your hands remained clutched to the chair as Aemond told you that he would be more than happy to study Valyrian history with you, and that he did not pick all the dog roses from the garden, for those he left were promptly collected by the Maesters. He expressed his desire to visit your home, but with the caveat that you would protect him from your brothers. And he assured you that he would not take a vow of silence so that you could hear his voice whenever you wanted.

Finally, he came to your last reply.

He read it again, silently, and slower than you would have liked. Then, he faced you but kept his eye focused on the wall past your shoulder. “I do not know if this is correct,” he said, almost bashfully. “But, I find myself… glad? That you missed me. That you worried for me. I did not know you cared for me that much, or that you cared for me at all.”

“Honestly? Neither did I. Not until that night.” You reached across the table – a short distance which yet felt like the length of the world – and took Aemond’s hand. He gasped, and his hand twitched, but then he sighed in relief. It was almost like the sound he had made when he released his seed within you. The very thought of it made you tighten your grip. “But I do care about you, Aemond... husband.”

To what extent you did not know. But you were very close to finding out.

You did not know how long you stayed there, holding hands and saying nothing. Minutes, perhaps. Or hours. In either case, the sun was still up when Aemond suddenly dropped your hand and stood.

“There is… there is something else I should show you,” he said, stumbling over his words as he had the first few times he actually spoke to you. “If you truly want to know me.”

Though you felt a tinge of apprehension at his vague words and that you could not imagine what else there was for him to show you after giving you his diary. Still, you nodded. “I do – want to know you.”

He stood, his back rigid as he extended a hand toward you. “Come, I will call a wheelhouse to take us.”

“A wheelhouse? Where are we going?”

“To the edge of the Kingswood.” At the look of confusion on your face, he clarified, “It is where Vhagar resides.”

“Vhagar? Your dragon?” You took his hand and let him pull you up, your shock at his request momentarily replaced by the strength you felt in the motion – the same strength that had enraptured you in the training yard.

“Well, she is not my dragon,” he clarified. “It doesn’t work like that. There is no ownership one way or the other. It’s more like… a partnership. I am her rider, and she is my mount.”

It took you a moment to collect your thoughts as Aemond began to lead you – still holding your hand – out of his rooms. He whispered briefly to the first guard you saw, who immediately ran toward the stables. When you were alone, he turned to you. “It… might be cool. Would you like to fetch a cloak from your rooms?”

You did, and you didn’t. While you didn’t want to endure the cold, you couldn’t help but think about what would happen if you felt cold and didn’t have a cloak. Would Aemond offer you his or perhaps invite you to share his?

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. “I would like that.”

He smiled and led you back to your rooms. So far from his own, yet with him leading you, the distance seemed to pass far faster than when you ran to him earlier that day.

Aemond stopped when you came to your door, lingering for a moment. “Would you… should I come in?” He turned to you with pleading eyes that you could tell he was trying to conceal. “I can remain outside if you wish it.”

He moved to drop your hand, but you held firm. “I would like you to come inside,” you said. “You know better than I what I will need, so I should like your assistance in selecting a cloak.”

Aemond gave you his fish look again, utterly dumbfounded. As if going into your dressing room was somehow more intimate than him fucking you. Fortunately, he regained his composure quickly and bowed his head. “Of course, whatever you wish.”

He opened the door and allowed you to lead him inside, past the couch where he had given you flowers, past the bedchamber where you had lain together, and into your dressing room. When you turned back to him, he was looking around as if he were just led into a room full of grand tapestries and works of art rather than clothes and shoes.

“What is it, Aemond?” you asked, suddenly worried that he may have seen something that offended him.

“It is just…” he laughed lightly before looking back to you, “I didn’t think anyone could actually fill their dressing room – especially not one this large.”

Though he smiled, you were yet filled with worry. “I promise I am not vain!” you pled, holding his hand to your chest. “My mother believes that a lady should always… and since I was to marry a prince, she – ”

You were silenced when Aemond pressed a kiss to your joined hands. “You have married a prince, and he does not think you vain, I swear. Actually, he is rather excited to see how beautiful you look in each and every item here.”

For a moment, you strongly considered leading him into the bedroom and leaving Vhagar for another day. But you had other plans for how you wanted that reunion to go. So, you reluctantly dropped his hand and pointed to the room’s far corner. “The cloaks are over there.”

Being a royal bride and one of only two daughters of a wealthy house meant that your trousseau was extraordinary. As such, you had more than a dozen cloaks, at least one for every colour of the rainbow.

Aemond went first to a black cloak – your warmest. While its wool was sparsely decorated, it was lined with the exquisite striped fur of a shadowcat. But after running his fingers once through the fur, Aemond pushed it aside.

He went next to a red cloak, intricately embroidered with gold and black dragonscale patterns (although the designs were somewhat abstract). It had been specially made when the match was announced, to honour the colours and sigil of your new house. But it, too, was rejected.

The green cloak – the one of dark emerald, not the light sage – was considered as well, longer than the other two. It was made from rich velvet and decorated with pearls. But Aemond let it behind, as well.

After quickly sorting through the next seven, he, at last, stopped to examine another. This one was made from a gentle pink jacquard, the pattern difficult to spot from a distance but absolutely lovely when near. The inside was lined with a light layer of undyed wool, and the edges with a thin strip of sable fur.

It was your favourite.

And it was the one Aemond chose.

“Wear this one,” he whispered as he brought it to you, holding it as though it was the most precious thing he’d ever held. “It suits you… very well.”

The flush on his cheeks gave you a rush of confidence, enough that you lifted your hair and turned around. Looking at Aemond over your shoulder, you dropped your eyes to the floor in a show of shyness. “Will you put it on me?”

Aemond’s gaze never left the skin of your exposed neck as he approached and laid the cloak over you with the gentlest whisper of a touch. He was close enough that you could hear his breathing quicken and feel the heat roiling off him. After the excessive amount of time he spent assuring that the cloak fell correctly, he finally stepped in front of you to fasten the front.

He tried, so very hard, to not look at your face as he did. But you caught every time his eye looked up at you – your eyes, your cheeks, your lips.

Kiss me, you willed silently, not yet brave enough to ask for it aloud.

The wish went unfulfilled. Once he had fastened the twin brooches of your cloak, Aemond smoothed it over once more, then offered you his hand. “The wheelhouse will be waiting for us,” he said.

You took his hand and let him lead you away.

The journey to the edge of the Kingswood passed quickly, the time filled with idle conversation about the city as you raced past it. You had questions about every statue, alleyway, and building; for the most part, Aemond had answers. The city’s history was inexorably tied to House Targaryen, and so he had taken it upon himself to learn everything there was to know about it.

It was enough to soothe your fears about meeting the largest dragon in the world. Until that is, you passed through the city gates, and the Kingswood appeared on the horizon.

“Why does Vhagar live in the forest?” you asked, peering through the curtains of the wheelhouse. “Why does she not live in the Dragonpit with the others?”

Aemond raised his brows proudly, “She has grown so large that she can no longer fit in the Dragonpit.”

The very idea was at once awesome and terrifying. You had seen the Dragonpit in the distance from your windows at the Red Keep and some dragons flying around it. That Vhagar could not even fit inside…

“So Maegor did not build it large enough? Even when he rode Balerion?”

“Well,” Aemond shrugged. “She could fit in the Dragonpit if it was necessary. But it would not be comfortable. It would stifle her. I do not want that.”

Just as he did not want you to be alone and trapped in the castle – enough that he would set you free of it if you asked. “You care for her very much, then?”

“I do, yes,” he answered, his eyes becoming contemplative while his lips still curled in a smile. “She is… I have told you that the relationship between dragon and rider is like a partnership, yes?”

“You have, yes.”

“It means that there must be understanding between the pair,” he explained. “Common ground, or even a shared soul. I know it may seem illogical or insane, but Vhagar understands me. She cannot speak it, but I know that she does. For most of my life, it has felt like she is the only one…” he trailed off as his eye came to rest once more upon you.

Until you, you could hear the words as well as if he had shouted them. Rather than a pit of fear, it created a warmth within you. Aemond understood you, and you were beginning to feel as if you understood him as well.

“Then I very much look forward to meeting her,” you replied. It was the truth, though you still possessed a healthy tinge of fear at meeting a dragon said to be now larger than Balerion had been during the conquest.

Aemond lifted the curtain from his window and looked back at you with an eager grin. “You will not have to wait much longer, my dear. We have arrived.”

When the porter opened the wheelhouse door, Aemond lept out. But you remained frozen in your seat. Had he not realised what he had just said?

“My dear.”

It has been said with such ease as though it was something he called you often. But that was the first time. Those two simple words had struck you like a thunderbolt and left you feeling as though you had run the distance from the castle for how fast your heart was racing.

After a moment, Aemond reappeared at the door, his arm extended to you. “Come,” he bade. “There is no reason to fear. She will not hurt you.”

You almost laughed at his misinterpretation of your state, but not wanting to explain the truth of it, you merely stood and took his arm. “Forgive me, but meeting a dragon is not an experience granted to many.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” he said, squeezing your arm and pulling you closer to him. “There never has been.”

“None of that now,” you begged. “That is all behind us. Let us just enjoy our new present.” You turned away from him, ending any argument he may have put forward.

You were expecting to be greeted by the sight of the great Vhagar, but all that was before you was the forest’s edge. A clearing of sorts, where the ground was tamped thoroughly flat, and nearly all the trees were missing their tips.

“Where is she?” you asked, surprised to find yourself disappointed that she was not there.

Aemond gently dropped your arm and stepped forward. “She must be off hunting. I will call her.” He walked to the edge of the clearing, then raised his hand to his lips and whistled louder than you had ever imagined a person could. “Vhagar! Māzīs va nykēlā !”

The forest fell silent once more, but he did not move to call again.

“Was that Valyrian?” You moved closer to him, but not all the way into the clearing. “The words you just said. ”

He turned back to you with an amused smile. “It was. It means ‘Come to me.’ That is how I call her back when she is away.”

You came even closer to him, your curiosity getting the better of you, until he was only a step ahead. “And she can hear you? Even if she is all the way across the Kingswood?”

“She can hear me if she is near enough,” he said as he held out his hand for you to take, “but the calling is more than just words. She can sense that I want her to come to me, even if she can’t hear me.”

“That is – ”

You were cut off by the loudest sound you had ever heard. A roar which seemed to shake the very foundation of the earth and the thunderous pounding of wings. Gods, how large were her wings to make such a sound?

Without realising it, you had thrown yourself into Aemond’s arms. Your face was pressed to his chest while your hands gripped the leather of his coat. He did not laugh or push you away. Of course he didn’t. He only wrapped his arms around you and whispered soothing reassurances.

It was so warm in his arms, and with the music of his calm, steady voice, you could have easily fallen asleep then and there.

That is, if the wingbeats weren’t coming nearer.

As the sound of them grew overwhelming, then stopped, you allowed Aemond to turn you to face none other than Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons.

She was enormous.

Her body filled the clearing entirely, her tail snaking through the trees beyond until the end of it – some 100 feet away- wrapped around the broad trunk of a great oak. You followed the tail up, over aged green scales that climbed higher and higher until you were looking at a torso taller than the two-story cottage your grandmother lived in. And though her wings were tucked in to allow her to fit in the clearing, you could easily guess that they measured even longer than her body when extended.

Even her head was so large that you had to turn your neck up to see her eyes – bright orange eyes that glowed like a roaring fire as they looked down upon you. Her lip curled as she rumbled a low growl, revealing teeth as long as your forearm, and you stepped back into Aemond’s chest.

“Lykirī, Vhagar,” he commanded, wrapping one arm protectively around your waist. “Dohaeras.” You could feel his hair shift against your back as he turned his head to look at you. “Ziry ñuhon ābrazȳrys issa.”

Vhagar ended her growl but continued baring her teeth as she tilted her head to better examine you. After a moment, she narrowed her eyes at Aemond.

“Ziry sepār nyke izūgilen issa daor,” he said with a distinctly reassuring tone. “Nyke jorrāelan zirȳla. Olvie nyke jorrāelan zirȳla.”

Finally, the dragon hid her terrifying teeth and, with a huff of steam from her nostrils, extended her neck to come closer to you.

“Aemond…” you whispered, near cowering as Vhagar came close enough for you to smell the brimstone on her breath.

“It’s alright,” he replied. His lithe fingers began to trace lines up and down your sides. Whether it was as a distraction or a comfort, you did not know. “She just wants to get your scent, so she can know you better.”

You tried to calm yourself, not wanting Vhagar to smell your fear – if that was something a dragon could smell. When she finally brought her snout almost to touching you before sniffing, each inhale sucking all the heat out of the air around you. After a moment, she withdrew slightly and made a noise that, had you not been merely thankful she hadn’t eaten you, you would have described it as a purr.

“She likes you,” Aemond said into your ear, pride dripping from each word. “She likes you very much. Would you like to pet her?”

A nervous laugh escaped you before you could stop it. “You want me to pet a dragon? Like she is a dog.”

“She enjoys it, I promise.” He lifted his hand from your side to take yours and guided it to the scales between her nostrils. “This is her favourite place. That’s it. You don’t have to scratch, just stroke her scales – be sure to follow their natural direction. She won’t like it if you tug on them.”

Vhagar continued to purr as you stroked her scales, only making contact with the downward motion. Your smile grew so wide your cheeks ached, and you could not help but laugh. “She’s like an old cat! A very big old cat.”

Aemond laughed with you, again hugging you to him as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Be glad she can’t understand you, for she is a very grumpy big old cat.”

“I feel almost foolish to have been afraid,” you confessed as you ever so slightly bumped your head against his.

“We like to keep people – most people – afraid of the dragons. It makes them a more effective deterrent.” He nuzzled into you and sighed happily. “But I am glad you are not afraid. Would you like to ride her?”

“What?” You froze, looking up at Vhagar’s saddle high above you and the sky even higher still. “I, uh…”

Aemond shushed your frantic attempt to find words. “If you don’t want to, I won’t force you. It is a unique thrill to fly, but I understand it is not for everyone.”

You turned in his arms. “I would like to, eventually. But today, I believe I have already used all my bravery.”

Well, not all of it. But you only just had enough left to get you through your plans for the night, and you were determined to keep it.

“Then we shall return to the Keep,” he said, not a hint of disappointment on his face, “and wait for a day when your bravery has returned. It is approaching sunset, and I will be expected at dinner.”

You nodded, and Aemond said a farewell to Vhagar in Valyrian before leading you back to the wheelhouse. The two of you rode in comfortable silence back to the castle, until he again helped you out.

“I would like to come to dinner with you,” you told him as you walked through the doors of the Red Keep. “And then, after dinner, I would like you to wait an hour and then come to my rooms.”

Aemond blanched, then flushed, then let out a shaky exhale. “Of course,” he breathed, “whatever you want, my dear.”

When Aemond arrived in your chambers after dinner – during which he nearly jumped out of his chair each time you spoke or laid your hand on his thigh – you were sitting at the vanity, finishing with your hair. He puttered around in the solar for a moment before coming into the bedchamber, where he looked first to the bed and, upon not finding you there, began to glance around the rest of the room. When he finally turned your way, you met his eyes through the mirror and gave him an overly innocent grin as he took in your attire.

“I… what…?” His babbling continued for a moment before he quieted. For a long while, he just stared at you with an open mouth and a wide eye. He only composed himself again when you stood and approached him, stopping just before you were in arm’s reach of each other. “What are you wearing?”

“Don’t you like it?” You asked with a mischievous pout, glancing down to survey yourself. “You liked it well enough the first time you saw it.”

It took a moment for your words to sink in. You saw the moment he finally heard your words and immediately began to fumble over a reply. “Of course I like it! I more than like it, I adore it. You must know that I do. I just… why this?”

You took two steps forward, until you were close enough that Aemond had to look down to meet your eyes, and you had to look up to see his. Teasingly, you ran a hand over the neckline of your gown, across each pearl and jewel that adorned it. “I thought since you didn’t like my favourite nightclothes, I needed to find something else to entice you. This seemed a good option.”

Aemond murmured something so softly you couldn’t hear it, even as close as you were.

Another step had you standing chest to chest with your husband. You could feel him struggling to calm his breathing as he looked at you, entirely captivated and at your mercy.

Standing on your tiptoes so you could press your cheek to his, you took a moment to smile at the way his breath caught at the contact, and his hand hovered just above your waist, still unsure if he really could touch you. Then, you whispered gently in his ear, “I know you had plans to take this off me yourself, so I thought I’d give you the chance.”

Without giving him a moment to respond, you took several steps back to allow him the best possible view of your wedding gown.

Your maids had been perplexed when you asked that they retrieve it so you could wear it tonight, but they had not argued. Their only complaint was that it was not possible to replicate the braid from your wedding day in such a short amount of time. So, they simply arranged it as nicely as they could before the deadline you gave them and tucked each of the gold and pearl pins you had worn then back into the braids and curls.

With only a few minor differences, you looked precisely as you did on your wedding night.

But now you weren’t afraid of what Aemond would do. Now, you were eager to find out.

“I, uh…” he wrung his hands together as he stepped forward. “I believe we should begin with your hair.”

“Very well.” You flounced over to the vanity and retook your seat, watching him through the mirror as he cautiously approached.

He lifted a shaky hand and ran his hand slowly over the braids. “How do I begin?”

“Start by removing the pins, then brush out the braids.”

“And how many pins are there?”

“Forty-seven,” you answered smugly.

Aemond’s eyes went wide, “That many?”

“Why do you think it takes women so long to dress in the mornings? And undress at night?”

He laughed slightly, then took one of the pearl-tipped pearls between his fingers and gently pulled it out.

On your wedding day, you had thought the pins inordinately large. But seeing one in Aemond’s hands – his very large hands, they seemed miniscule.

“That’s one,” he said, depositing the pin on the surface of the vanity.

With each pin he removed, he kept count and laid each one in a perfectly straight line. But you could not be too amused by it, for each time you were, his hand would brush your neck, cup your head, or tangle into your hair. It had never felt like this when your maids tended to you.

Aemond was a dragon, and his touch was fire.

Each passing brush of his fingers burned within you, building into a raging fire or desire. By the time he finished, and laid the forty-seventh pin on the table, you were well flushed and practically panting. And as he looked to you for further direction, he could see it all. Your only consolation was that he looked as ragged as you.

“Now comb through the braids with your fingers to separate them,” you instructed. You did have a wide-toothed comb specifically meant for separating braids, but you were certainly not going to pass up the opportunity to have his hands in your hair again.

He reached for the first braid – the largest – and hooked his fingers into its base. “Please, tell me if I hurt you.”

“You won’t. I know it.”

“Your confidence is all I need,” he laughed, and began to pull his hand away. The braid spilt past his fingers with an ease you had rarely been fortunate enough to see before. So did the next, and the next, until your hair was once more free to spill down your back.

“Now I brush it?” Aemond asked, reaching for the silver-backed brush on the vanity.

But you stood before he could reach it, turning to him and pushing him slightly away. “You did well enough with your fingers that brushing is unnecessary. And… I know you are eager.” You had felt the hard evidence of it against your back as he stood behind you.

“I am,” he said, “but there are other things I must do first.” He cupped your face gently, his thumb slowly swiping over your cheekbone. His eye was focused solely on your lips but filled with apprehension. And as you watched the slight pursing of his mouth, the tightening of his jaw, and the slightest furrow of his brow, you were confident that you understood exactly what he was thinking.

Funny, he had been reading your thoughts for so long. Now, it seemed you had finally caught up with him.

“You don’t have to ask,” you whispered. “You may kiss me – I want you to kiss me.”

There was a flash of elated surprise, followed by a moment of anxiety, fueled by his desperate desire that tonight not be like before. The last time he had done this, you had shied away from him, asked that he not do the one thing he had been most desperate to do.

You could read it all on his face as clearly as the words in his diary.

So, you decided to ease his anxieties yourself. Seizing the lapels of his doublet, you pulled him down to you and kissed him.

It was far from perfect. You had been overzealous and pulled him with too much force, causing your teeth to clash together as your lips connected.

Neither of you was deterred. Aemond’s hand wrapped around the back of your neck, holding you steady as he kissed, and kissed, and kissed you.

It was like you were dancing – he led, and you followed. When he pressed forward, you allowed him to do so, leaning back to give him the room he needed while still holding him close. When he softly urged your lips to part with his tongue, you offered no resistance. And when he slid one arm around your waist to pull you flush against him, you ran your hand up his chest and into his hair, tugging slightly as you tried to draw him ever closer.

At that, Aemond moaned.

Instinctively, you pulled back, breaking the kiss. It was probably due to end soon anyways – both of you were panting and out of breath.

“What happened?” he asked, his face flashing between confusion and hurt. “What did I do wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong. I did!” You ran your hand out of his hair and held it up as though he could see the evidence upon it. “I hurt you; I apologise.”

Aemond smiled broadly and pulled you in for another kiss. “You did not hurt me,” he whispered when he pulled back. “I made that sound because I enjoyed it.”

“Oh!”

“I assure you,” he said as he guided your hand back into his hair, “you have my enthusiastic permission to continue.” Then he pulled you back in and kissed you again, and again, and again.

You decided that you very much liked kissing your husband, even when he slipped his tongue into your mouth. It was not the most pleasant of sensations for you but one you were willing to become accustomed to so long as it brought him pleasure.

It would have been very easy to stay like that all night, but you had endured putting this complicated gown on again for a reason – for Aemond.

So, with no minor difficulty, you pulled away from him, smiling when he moved to follow you.

“No, no,” you scolded playfully. “Before we continue, I insist you help me out of my dress.”

“Of course,” he answered, his voice nearly breaking with desperation. “Anything you ask of me, I will do.”

You turned slowly away from him and lifted your hair over one shoulder, exposing the lacing on the back of the gown. “Then I ask that you untie me, husband.”

He said nothing, but you felt him approach. Felt the heat of him just behind you and the ghost of his fingers at the base of your neck. You felt the light pressure as he gripped the white satin ribbon with one hand but not the other…

The other he wound around your waist to pull you closer, so that he could plant a chaste kiss against the side of your neck. You shivered at the sensation – the warmth slowly fading as he pulled back.

“I know we are both impatient,” he murmured against your skin, “but I want to savour this moment. Please, allow me to take my time.”

You raised an arm to draw him back to your lips. This kiss was not as hungry as the others. It was soft, sweet, and slow. “Take however long you need, Aemond. I am not going anywhere.”

And take his time he did. With every eyelet he unlaced, he kissed your neck again. As he lowered the sleeves one at a time, he kissed a path from your shoulder to your hands. When he untied your stockings, he rubbed the same soothing circles on your thighs that had once made you desperate for his touch.

Then suddenly, you were only in your shift, the chill of the night air prickling against your skin.

Aemond stood and began to fiddle with the hem of your sleeve. “If you don’t want… If you want to keep this on, I won’t mind.”

“I want this, I promise,” you guided his hand away from the sleeve and down toward the hem, ensuring he came quite close to the space between your thighs. “It’s easier to remove from the bottom.”

He seized the hem and lifted, before pressing his forehead to yours and kissing you again. “I love you. And I ask that you only say it back should you really, truly mean it. With all your heart.”

You knew he wanted to hear it, despite his words. His eye was too pleading, too filled with hope. And though you wanted to say it, just to make him happy, you couldn’t. Not will all your heart, at least. Aemond deserved for it to be true.

So instead, you kissed him, lacing your fingers with his to finally remove the shift and bare yourself to him.

If he minded the diversion, he did not say. In fact, given that you then watched his eye dilate as he looked down at your body, you were fairly confident that he didn’t mind at all. And you were very confident that he loved your breasts, as they were where his gaze always returned to.

“May I…?” he asked breathlessly, his hand floating just above your heart. But at this moment, it was not your heart he wanted, but what lay just beneath it.

Aemond didn’t hesitate to cup your breast in his large hand, covering it completely. Though his touch was warm, your nipples went taut as he slowly massaged one breast, then the other. He tested several different ways of holding them, of applying pressure to them, and even experimented with pinching your peaked nipples – for which you quickly put a limit on how tightly he could do so.

After a moment, he licked his lips and looked up at you for permission. A nod was all he needed to bend down and take your breast into his mouth, laying sloppy kisses all over their surface before rolling his tongue lazily over your nipples.

You had enjoyed all his ministration thus far, but that?

That had your head lolling back as you moaned his name, a moan you were not given the chance to finish before his mouth was again on yours – possessive and wanting.

“Get on the bed,” he panted, a far more passionate entreaty than it had been on your wedding night, and you were far more confident.

You resisted his attempts to pull you closer to the bed, and when he leaned in to try and ply you with more kisses, you countered by nipping the tip of his nose – lightly, but hard enough to get his attention.

“Please,” he begged, ‘please get on the bed.”

“I will, Aemond.” He whined at the breathy way you said his name, tightening his grip on your hips. “First, let me remove your clothes.”

His eye was so dilated you could hardly see any purple and more than half-lidded with lust, but he obeyed, taking a single step away after giving your soft flesh a little squeeze. “Start with the belt, then the doublet, then – ”

“I am fairly confident I can figure out how to remove your clothes,” you teased. Though it soon became clear your confidence was unfounded.

Just undoing the knot on his belt took far longer than you expected. He only laughed when you frustratedly asked why he needed to knot his belt when it already had a perfectly good buckle. Fortunately, the buckles on his doublet were far simpler, though they were small enough to still delay you.

When at last you were able to throw the damned doublet and belt aside, you took your frustrations out on his neck, kissing it with such enthusiasm that you nearly pushed him over. After that display of lust, Aemond was quick to assist you with his shirt and trousers.

The moment he was as bare as you, he tried to pull you onto the bed, but again, you resisted. You had only once seen him nude, but you had not been in the mood to admire his form then. Now, you were mesmerised by the sight before you.

A long neck leading to powerful shoulders, long arms that ended in long fingers, a long, lithe torso with many divots you longed to explore, and long, slender legs corded with muscle. Every single part of him was long. Especially…

“In your diagrams, you only included the female anatomy,” you mused as you approached him, eyes locked on his flushed, hard cock. “I feel I am at a significant disadvantage, since I don’t know – ” You shrieked as Aemond grabbed you by the waist and carried you to the bed, depositing you squarely in the middle before crawling over you and peppering your face with tender kisses.

“Believe me, it is far simpler with men,” he laughed as he descended down your chest. “I doubt you will need any formal instruction.”

Formulating a witty enough response was nearly impossible as he trailed his mouth down and down. Between your breasts, over your stomach, and then –

Then nothing. Aemond sat between your spread legs, lifting your hips to rest slightly on his knees. The grin he flashed was nothing short of pure evil. He held your gaze as he took his thumb briefly into your mouth before bringing it down to that little button at the top of your sex, only long enough to bring you a moment of pleasure before he slipped it further down to part your slick folds.

“Gods,” he sighed, swiping his thumb over your entrance to collect as much fluid as he could before bringing it back to circle your pearl agonisingly slowly. “I’d hoped you’d be wet, but… I never expected this.”

You bucked your hips, trying to get him to go faster, press harder, something. Until now, you had only ever had the briefest tastes of pleasure, but now you craved more. You craved him.

“Please, Aemond!” you squealed as he finally pressed his thumb down harder.

“Give me a moment, my dear,” he said smugly. “I thought it would take longer to get you to this point. I’m having to reassess my plan.”

“Fuck your plan!” you shouted, more helplessly than you intended, judging by Aemond’s answering laugh. “Please, just do something – anything!”

“I am doing something!” he countered, emphasising his point by quickening his movements. “And it looks to me as though you’re enjoying it.”

Damn it, you were. But still, it wasn’t enough. You squeezed your eyes shut and threw your head back against the pillow, moaning incoherently.

“Oh, my poor darling,” Aemond cooed, “you really are desperate, aren’t you?”

You felt tears prickle in your eyes as you nodded furiously, only managing to again say “please.”

He slowed his thumb to a stop and crawled back over you, until your faces were level. “Open your eyes, love.” You obeyed, and were rewarded with a soft kiss on your forehead. “Good girl. I’m going to give you more now, but you must promise that if it hurts or if it gets to be too much, you must tell me. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” you squeaked pathetically.

Aemond kissed you one last time before he retook his position between your legs, once more gathering your slick on his pointer finger before slowly – so, so slowly – pushing it inside you. It was a different feeling from his cock; not quite as pleasurable, but the discomfort on entry was far less.

“Is that alright?” he asked, and you nodded. “I’m going to move it now. Please tell me when I’ve found the correct spot.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond before he crooked his finger and found that ‘spot.’ The one he wrote about in his diary, the one that brought nearly the same pleasure as your pearl.

Aemond’s studying has undoubtedly paid off.

Your back arched so dramatically that he had to anchor you to the bed with his free hand on your hip. “There it is,” he crooned, utterly prideful, “do you want me to keep going?” You answered with a slew of yeses that blended into a happy hissing sound, then turned into a loud moan as he inserted another finger into you, crooking it along with the other to massage that magical little spot. “You’re doing so well, my love.”

You were too engulfed in your pleasure that you hardly even noticed the new term of endearment. All you knew was his fingers inside you, stoking a fire that burned brighter, brighter, brighter.

Everything felt hot, and soon a sheen of sweat covered your skin. You took a deep breath, angling your hips almost unconsciously, but in a way that somehow heightened your pleasure enough for your body to shake. There was tension in every muscle, a delightful tension that had you clenching your fists in the sheets and curling your toes to try and relieve. It built and built, focusing on where Aemond was touching you, where his fingers went in and out and pressed and stroked.

It was too much. Your body couldn’t possibly endure this. This was where you had always stopped when you were exploring on your own – this was past that point, and Aemond was only taking you further and further.

“Aemond, please,” you begged. What for, you didn’t know. You didn’t want him to stop, but you were afraid to discover what would happen next.

He sped his movements, watching your face with a heart-stopping intensity in his eye. “Don’t hold it in, love,” he said, splaying his free hand across your stomach. “Give into it, let it go, release.”

The word may well have been a command, for the moment he finished speaking, you let go. Lightning coursed through you, and all your limbs froze and went numb for a moment that felt like it lasted a whole year. The tension dissipated, and all of a sudden you could breathe again, feel again, think again.

“Was that…?”

Aemond’s thumb stroked your belly, the delicate touch making you realise that he had removed his fingers from you and now held them just before his lips. “It was your peak, my love.” Never looking away from you, he took the fingers that were inside you into his mouth, sucking on them as if they were the sweetest candied lemons. “Forgive me, but I think I’d like another.”

It happened so quickly. One moment, he was kneeling between your legs. The next, Aemond had pushed you further up the bed so he could lay on his stomach and drape your legs over his shoulders, his hands holding your rear as he pulled you up until your cunt was pressed to his mouth.

Your hands flew into his hair, simultaneously tugging at it and yet trying to pull him closer. His tongue was surely some kind of miracle. How else would it feel so wonderful as he licked up every drop of moisture between your thighs before pressing into your core?

More miraculous still was his nose, for every time he pushed deeper, it pressed against your pearl, rubbed against it each time he angled his head. He quickly noticed what, exactly, was driving you wild, and took to shaking his head back and forth to make you scream – and scream you did.

“Gods, Aemond, please!” You cried as the delicious tension returned, still crackling with electricity. This was far more intense than his fingers had been, and far faster to take you to that place where you had nearly no control over your own body.

Nearly no control. Some instinct deep within you, which had no purpose but to seek animalistic pleasure, took hold of you. Your hand in his hair tightened so hard he again moaned, sending vibrations through you that nearly pushed you over the edge of your pleasure. But what finally sent you tumbling over was when he allowed you to pull him up until his lips latched around your pearl, and after several long, lingering licks of his tongue, he hummed, and you screamed anew.

When you opened your eyes again, Aemond was once more hovering above you, looking at you as though your reddened, sweaty face was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. You were certain that guards would come streaming into the chambers at the sound, swords drawn, but none did. It was still only you and your husband. He seemed entirely content, but when you glanced down at his cock, you found it so flushed that you were sure it hurt.

“I should…” your voice faded as you reached down to touch the heavy length of him. “I don’t know how, but you could show me.”

Aemond smiled softly, his half-lidded eye seeming to glaze over for a moment. “Another time, I would like nothing more. But tonight…” He leaned down to press a slow, lust-filled kiss to your swollen lips and rested his forehead against yours when he finally withdrew. “Please don’t make me wait any longer, my love.”

Eagerly, you nodded. You were absolutely resolved to learn how to pleasure him – with your hands and mouth–. Still, it seemed a daunting task, and your body was aching to find out what Aemond could do once he was inside you.

So, you did not argue as he reached down to align himself with your entrance. But he did not yet push forward. Supporting himself with one arm, he gave you another short kiss and stroked your hair.

“I promise,” he whispered, “it will be better this time.”

You leaned into his touch and shifted your hips to try and draw him closer. When Aemond hesitated again, you looked into his eye and raised a hand to cup his cheek. “I know it will. Now please, I don’t want to wait either.”

Then he buried himself inside you in one powerful thrust.

There was still a slight pinch of uncomfortable pressure at the start, but it did not last long. And compared to the pleasure it brought you, it was entirely inconsequential. You felt full in the most wonderful way, as if you had been missing something your whole life and finally found it. Warm, like he had lit a fire within you that would burn for the rest of your days. Safe, as though nothing could ever harm you again.

You felt right.

During that moment of stillness, where you both adjusted to the feeling of joining, you buried your face in Aemond’s neck. There was nothing but him, his silver hair blocking the rest of the world from view as his scent enveloped you. Perhaps you could just stay like this forever. That was a delightful thought. You nuzzled further into him as you let out a sigh of contentment.

Aemond tensed and whispered your name. “Does it hurt? Did I not prepare you well enough?”

“No,” you replied, still not pulling away. As the desperate need for even more closeness began to well up in your chest, you wrapped the hand that was cupping his cheek around his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin for how tightly you held him. “It just… it feels – you feel amazing. I wish it had always felt like this.”

“It will now,” Aemond replied, turning to place a kiss atop your head. He, too, sought to bring you closer. He brought his hand down to your waist and pulled you up so that your chests met and moved together as you breathed together. “I promise it will always feel this good. Perhaps better, once we practice a little more.”

“Oh yes!” you squeaked, finally dropping your head back to the pillow so you could look at him. “Let’s do lots of practice!”

With a laugh, he raised his brows in mock questioning. “Might I suggest we start now?”

Words escaped you for a moment, and all you could do was nod vigorously, like a child that had just been offered a whole tray of cakes. Your agreement and excitement seemed to delight Aemond, causing him to smile so wide his eyes crinkled. You instantly decided that you wanted to see that smile every day. Every hour. Every minute. For that smile was brighter than the sun itself.

“Put your legs around me, love,” he instructed, curling his hand around your thigh to guide you. Once you were positioned exactly how he wanted you, he pulled himself slightly closer to the headboard and leaned in for one last kiss, stopping just above your lips. “Are you ready?”

“Yes,” you breathed against him, “so very ready.”

Aemond stayed in your bed all night, continuing to pleasure you until it was all you could do to keep your eyes open. Then, he stroked your hair while assuring you he was not leaving, which did not calm your panic when he got out of bed. But he soon returned, carrying a carafe of water and a damp towel. He murmured praises in your ear as he cleaned you and then himself, and commanded that you drink at least one full glass of water before you fell asleep.

You obeyed and afterwards fell asleep tucked into his chest. The next morning, you did not remember your last words to your husband before you drifted off, but he certainly did.

“I’m sorry I can’t say I love you,” you’d whispered, only half-awake, “but if you give me some time, I’m sure I can.”

Those words echoed through his mind as he slept, dreaming of a life where he would not have to walk halfway across the castle to reach his separate rooms. Where he could sleep like this, with his arms around you, every night. Where when he told you he loved you, you would respond in kind.

A dream he hoped he could live very soon. But until then, he would give you all the time you needed.

Waking from that dream was nearly a nightmare in itself, until he looked over and saw you still in his arms, still fast asleep. Your hair was a mess, and your nose was scrunched as you dreamed, but he loved every bit of it. He told you as much when you finally awoke.

When you insisted on following him to his rooms so you could attend the morning meal together, he did not protest. He loved watching you look around each chamber, your mind racing as you imagined how you would decorate the blank walls. He loved that, too.

What he did not love was that when you walked into the dining room, hand in hand, Aegon instantly perked up in his chair. His eyes darted between you and Aemond with dizzying speed before he raised his brows and mouthed, “Did she come?”

Aemond only glared at him, but you smiled and nodded, then held up seven fingers.

Begrudgingly, he loved that, too.

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nejiverse · 9 months ago

Text

I’M YOUR WIFE

BUT YOU’RE A STRANGER

Sae Itoshi [pt1 to ‘his amnesiac’]

In which y/n— sae’s fiancée— gets in a late night car accident which results in her loosing five years worth of memories and coincidentally, sae and y/n have only known each other for five years, dated for three, engaged for one. together they try to regain her memories but sae doesn’t know how long he can remain hopeful for. Fem! Reader

cw: angst

1277 words

"Sorry but, who are you?".

It was just like the doctors said it'd be.

To say that his heart dropped at her words would be an understatement. His heart didn't just merely drop but it plunged down at an alarming rate and shattered into pieces that would never be put back together again no matter how hard he tried.

And it was all his fault.

In the past eight days Y/n was in a coma, Sae thought of 8 ways he could've stopped the accident from happening.

He should've asked her where she was going at such a late hour. He should've apologised for shouting at her earlier that night. He should've admitted he was in the wrong of the argument they had.

But he didn't.

Sae's eyes couldn't open any wider.

Sorry but, who are you?

Those words rang in his head over and over and over again to the point where he couldn't imagine anything else occupying his thoughts.

He needed to apologise. Even if it was too late, even if it wouldn't reverse time, he still needed to do it.

Sae's paralysis was broken when he got off the chair next to Y/n's bed and hugged her, cradling her head against his stomach.

"I was wrong", he said in a voice below a whisper. "I'm so sorry".

If it weren't for her newly acquired amnesia, Y/n would've surely made fun of him for being so vulnerable.

Was it possible for broken pieces to be shattered even more? Sae thought it was probably impossible.

But when Y/n pushed herself away from him and stared at him with lost eyes and a foreign look on her face, he was convinced the impossible became possible.

"Please don't touch me", she spoke in a small voice. "I think you've mistaken me for someone else".

Mistaken her for someone else? How could he? How could he mistake the woman in which he was engaged to for eleven months now for someone else? How could he forget the woman whom he'd shared 5 years of memories with?

It was a pity. The bond that gradually grew stronger over the course of five years was now lost. The knot came undone and the singular string became two once again.

It wasn't fair at all. Sae used to believe that the only things that were given to him in his life were things he didn't want. It was true until he met Y/n.

Now, things are going back to how they were. Things that he didn't want were re-entering his life. He didn't want this. He was too hopeful.

Y/n observed her surroundings, clenching the white sheets that were over her legs into her tightly closed fists. She looked up at Sae with glossy eyes.

"Why am I in the hospital?", she shook her head in dismissal. It didn't matter. "I need to go home", the woman began to pull at the wires attached to her arms. Sae noticed the panic in her eyes and immediately tugged her wrists in efforts to stop her from potentially hurting herself.

"Get the hell away from me!", she shouted, struggling to free her hands. "My father's on his own right now, I need to get to him—".

"He's dead, Y/n", he uttered which made her pause. Her hands paused and her breathing paused. She slowly shook her head as if that would make the statement any less true.

"He's not dead", she said in a shaky voice. She furiously blinked to chase away her tears.

"Two years ago Y/n, he—".

Her words pitched a note higher with every word that fell. "Shut up, I don't want to hear it. He's— he's not dead I already told you!".

She thrashed around but Sae didn't let go of her. He used his shoulder to press the nurse call button on the wall.

What did he do to deserve this?

Tears streamed down her face as she hiccuped through her words. "I was in an a-accident which caused me to....to lose my memories, Dad is dead, and the man next to you is my..fiancé..?", someone needed to slap her and hard. She was sure it was all a dream, she just needed to wake up.

The doctor nodded. "If you don't believe me, take a look", he pointed to the ring on her finger.

The ring that Sae had purchased without a second thought. He doesn't remember how much he bought it for but anyone who laid eyes on it would know it wasn't cheap at all. The e/c colour was the reason he bought it.

Y/n held it up to the light as it glistened every single time she moved her hand around. Her eyes rested on the matching ring on Sae's finger for a brief moment before she closed her puffy and red eyes.

"I'd like to return this to you", she said, slipping the ring off her finger and sliding it against the table towards Sae. "It's not right for me to wear it. An engagement ring is a symbol of love and I don't harbour any such feelings for anyone", she apologised with sincerity.

She felt bad for him. She regretted how rude she was to him. For Sae, it was another day in his life but for her, it was as if her life had just started all over again.

"I wish that I could be the woman you fell in love with again, but I don't remember any of this. I don't remember you", her lips began to tremble and tears came out of her eyes again.

Sae remained silent as he glared with dulled eyes at the ring on the table.

Y/n was scared of a person who loved her .

The ride home was silent.

The living room was even more silent.

Y/n sat on the couch as Sae handed her a glass of water in which she thanked him for.

Taking a sip, she cupped the glass in her two hands and cleared her throat.

"Listen. I want my old life back. I don't know how plausible that is but we can try. I don't remember my life after 18 but i'm sure I'm supposed to want it back. I mean i'd rather know who I am than not know who I am", she explained. Sae stood in front of her, listening attentively.

"Like the doctor said, we can try to visit places and stuff to see if I remember anything but I just have one rule. I don't want to be touched. Remember that you know me but I don't know you".

She doesn't know him, right.

Sae had to admit, her words stung a little, a lot actually. Nevertheless, he crouched down and quickly clenched his fists. Out of habit, he was about to take her hands in his but he refrained.

"I promise you, I will do everything in my power to get your memories back. I screwed up once, but that will never happen again", Sae voiced in a stern voice. "I lo— I care about you way more than you know", he didn't want to scare her off.

She nodded, albeit the last part making her a bit uncomfortable.

"Thank you. But please keep in mind that to you, i'm your wife, but to me, you're a stranger".

part 2

a/n: haven’t posted since december el oh el (nothing’s funny) so I thought why not start the year off (we’re two months in) with a bang! (angst)

masterlist :)

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angelsassassin · 6 months ago

Text

All Over Again • Spencer Reid x reader (Prologue)

Spencer Reid was a man of science, but that didn’t stop him from thanking God.

Details: fem! reader wife and mother x father and husband Spencer Reid

AN: Hi Tumblr!! This is my first post, and I am so excited. I absolutely love and adore Spencer Reid, and I know many of you do too. A little warning, this isn’t a standalone. It can be read as one, but this is essentially a prologue to a little series I want to do. The series will basically follow reader and Spencer through their lives; from when they first meet, to when they start to build their relationship, to arguments, when Spencer goes to prison (wink wink), and how they deal with that.

Caution: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. This series is meant for 18+ ONLY!

Warnings; smut (I sincerely apologise if it is not the best), breeding kink, Spencer being a dad (AH), fluff (so much fluff).

I really hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it. If there are any questions about this series, let me know.

Spencer Reid was a man of science; the thought that people could believe in a higher being and even pray to them had always baffled the man. He had met many people that believed in God or some other version of him, and yet he himself could never bring himself to believe.

And yet, when he met you almost twenty years ago, he started to believe that maybe there was a higher power, one that led him to you. Every day since he had known you, he found himself thanking God or whoever was listening to him for you.

That increased tenfold after he came back from prison. It was hard for him, not only because he knew he was innocent and being punished for something he didn’t - and realistically could never do - but also because he was away from you. After he came back, he changed; he was a little more broken than he was before, but it pushed him to become stronger, more confident and more protective of what he had.

That’s why almost a year after his conviction, he proposed to you. You, of course, accepted, wanted nothing more than to be with him for the rest of your life, and in classic David Rossi fashion, once he heard the news of your engagement, he planned the wedding at his mansion, marrying the two of you not even a month after your engagement.

A few months down the line, you discovered you were pregnant, and Spencer was over the moon; he had wanted to be a father since way before he even met you, and that need for a family only increased once the two of you established a relationship.

Now, almost ten years later, you were living in bliss. Your son, Oliver, was the light of your life, and Spencer’s. After Spencer discovered you were pregnant, he took a step back from the BAU, deciding that no matter how much he loved his job, he loved you and your unborn child more, and he wanted to be there for all the moments, which is why he became a full time professor at the FBI academy, only helping his team out when he was absolutely needed, and never travelling along with them for cases.

You had just gotten home from work, setting down your belongings when the smell of food entered your sinuses. “Spence?” You called out. You heard a quiet ‘in here’ coming from the kitchen, so you made your way over, discovering Spencer making dinner. “Hey, baby.” You smiled as you walked over to him, wrapping your arms around him.

“Hey, angel. How was work?” He asked as he turned his head, placing a kiss onto your head.

“Not too bad. Janice wouldn’t shut up about her vacation.” You say with a laugh as you walk over to the kitchen island, taking a seat. Spencer chuckled and shook his head.

“Typical.” He replied. “Ollie is upstairs doing some homework, by the way.” He added, and you nodded.

“I swear that boy loves school more than any other child I’ve ever met.”

“I was the exact same.” Spencer laughs. “To be fair to him, he did inherit my brain.” You nod in agreement.

“That he did.” You chuckle. “Hopefully, the next one will inherit something from me.” You smile. Spencer looks over at you with a questioning look.

“Next one?” He asks, forgetting about the food he was cooking. “I didn’t think you wanted another one.”

You shrug in response. “I mean, Ollie is getting older now, and I don’t know. I guess I just miss a little baby running around the house. Spencer smirks as he walks over to you.

“So you want another one?” He asks as he brushes a hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Do you?”

“Yeah, I do.” He whispered. “Now that I really think about it, I do miss seeing you carrying my child.” He smirked, a look in his eyes, and you knew exactly what it was; lust and possessiveness. You let out a chuckle.

“You know, in order for that to happen, you have to get me pregnant first.”

“Oh don’t you worry, angel. I’m going to make sure I fill you up every night until I know for certain it sticks.”

Before you can reply, you hear the stairs creaking, signalling Oliver was coming downstairs. He comes into the kitchen, and upon seeing you, he smiles. “Mom!” He happily chirps, walking over to you and hugging you.

“Hey honey, how was school?” You ask him, leaning down and kissing his head, which holds the same head of hair as Spencer’s does.

“It was okay. Eric and I got to sit in the library during maths.” He spoke gently. The school was very accommodating when it came to your son, knowing he was incredibly smart and whatever they were teaching, he already knew. Most of the time, they’d let him sit in the library and read his books if he felt like he wasn’t being challenged enough. Despite the offer for him to be moved up several grades so that he could be challenged, you and Spencer decided it would be best for him to stay with kids his age for now.

“Is he finally starting to understand the stuff you’re teaching him?” You ask, knowing that Oliver took great pride in teaching his friend all about maths, considering Eric wasn’t the greatest at it. Oliver simply nodded in response, moving to sit next to his mother. Spencer moved back to the dinner, adding the final touches before announcing it was finished.

After dinner, the three of you were laying on the couch, watching TV, with you cuddled into Spencer’s side while Oliver had his head on your lap. Spencer’s arm was around you, playing with a few strands of your hair.

It was almost like routine; after dinner, the three of you would always lay on the couch together, watching whatever mindless TV show was on the news. You had spent the majority of dinner talking about each of your days, so a comfortable silence had taken over you, apart from the few laughs that escaped Oliver as he intently watched the show.

You looked up at Spencer and smiled. He looked down at you and returned the smile, mouthing ‘I love you’ to you. You leaned up, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. When you pulled away, you replied to him, mouthing the words back to him. Spencer looked down at his watch.

“Ollie. It’s almost bedtime, buddy.” He announced. Oliver sat up and looked at his parents.

“Okay. Goodnight, I love you both.” He said tiredly. You and Spencer had always made sure that Oliver would grow up in a house where he would never have to feel ashamed or embarrassed to say the words ‘I love you’ to his parents.

“Love you too, my beautiful boy.” You say as you move closer to him and kiss his head. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.” Oliver nodded and began walking upstairs, getting ready for bed. Despite only being nine years old, he was very smart and could perform his nightly and morning routine without any help.

That left you and Spencer alone on the couch, and Spencer was quickly reminded of your earlier conversation. “So… when should we start trying for another baby?” He asked, the desire he felt clearly evident in his words.

You let out a chuckle, and moved to lay down opposite him, putting your feet onto his lap. “Whenever you want.”

A smirk formed on Spencer’s lips and he moved your legs off of him gently, moving to lay on top of you, placing his hands on either side of your head to stabilise himself.

“How about right now?” He asked as his dipped his head into the crook of your neck, kissing and biting at it.

“On the couch?”

“On the couch, on the kitchen counters, on the table, in the shower, in our bed….” He began to list, a gasp leaving your mouth. “I’d do it everywhere if you’d let me.”

You smiled, remembering how insatiable your husband could get sometimes. It was no secret he absolutely adored you and the family and the life you had built for each other. After everything that he had been through, he couldn’t be more thankful that he was now able to live a happy life, one full of love and laughter. He lifted his head up and rested it against your forehead.

“We could even do it in the garden if you wanted.” You let out a chuckle at his words.

“I don’t think our neighbours would like that very much.” You reply, causing him to shrug and smile.

“I don’t care. As long as my girl is happy and loved and thoroughly pleased, I’d do anything for her.” He says softly.

“Your wife, Spencer. Not your girl.” You corrected him.

“Of course. My wife.” He says leaning down to kiss you. It was a kiss full of love and passion, something that despite being together for so long, never left. Every time Spencer kissed you, it was like it was the first time he was kissing you all over again. You never complained, loving the fact that he still gave you butterflies. You moaned into the kiss, immediately causing Spencer to use one of his hands to lift up leg around him.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” He mumbled against your lips, as his hand began to travel between you two, slowly beginning to unbutton your jeans.

“Spence… what if… what if Ollie comes downstairs?” You breathe out, suddenly starting to feel your arousal and your need for him overcome all your senses.

“He won’t.” Spencer groaned, finally achieving his goal of unzipping the jeans and slowly moving his hand under your underwear. As soon as his fingers come into contact with your clit, you let out a gasp. “So fucking wet for me already, angel.” He groans again. He begins to move his finger around your clit, stimulating your nerves to get you more wet. As he does so, you begin to feel his cock pressing into your other leg, begging to be released for his trousers. He slips his finger further down, and pushes it into you.

You let out a moan, making sure to keep your volume down, but also knowing how much Spencer loved hearing how he made you feel. He added a second finger, and you began to feel the pressure building in your lower stomach. You were so close, and he knew it. He knew your body like he knew all the books he’d read throughout the years; he memorised every moan, every scream of his name, every twice or movement you made when he was giving you pleasure. He knew exactly what to do, and he never grew bored of it.

Just as you were about to announce your impending release, he removed his fingers, bringing them to mouth and sucking them clean. You let out a deep sigh at the loss of contact.

“Don’t worry, angel. You’ll come soon. I just want you to come on my dick, not on my fingers.” His words made a shiver run down your spine, and he quickly began to take off your jeans and panties, removing his own trousers and boxers afterwards. You looked down, seeing how painfully hard he was. “Like what you see?”

“Definitely.” You replied with a smirk. Despite the thousands of times you and Spencer had fucked or made love, you were still always left breathless upon seeing his dick; it was big and girthy, and it fit inside you perfectly, almost like it was specifically made for you.

Spencer moved back on top of you, settling down between your legs. His hand pumped his dick a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

“Tell me what you want.” He demanded, teasing your entrance.

“You. I want you.”

“No, you know what I mean, angel. Tell me what you want.” He almost spat.

You tried to think of what he wanted you to say, and then you remembered why you were in this position in the first place. “I want you to fuck a baby into me.” You sighed, and almost as quick as you finished speaking, Spencer dove into you, groaning at the feeling of being inside you. He placed one of his arms next to yours, leaning onto his elbow for support, while the other hooked underneath your leg, bringing it up so he could move deeper inside.

His thrusts were slow at first, letting you adjust to him. Because of how big he was, every time you had sex, it would take a little while for you to get used to him again. Once Spencer felt your hand move to his shoulders to dig your fingernails into it, he smirked and began to quicken his pace, fucking you faster and harder.

You couldn’t help the moans that left your mouth, which only fueled Spencer’s desire for you. “Fuck, angel, you feel so good.” He moaned into your neck, kissing it as he fucked you.

“Spencer…” You moaned, tangling your fingers into his hair and pulling at it. He let out a groan into your neck, biting down.

“Fuck, if you do that, I won’t last long.” He breathed out as his thrusts became quicker and harder.

“Oh god, baby, so close.” You moaned out, too overcome with pleasure to be able to form a coherent sentence.

“Come for me baby, I’m almost there.” He moaned, and that was all you needed before the pressure in your stomach exploded. You threw your head back in pleasure, covering up your mouth to silence your moans, not wanting to wake up or alarm your son.

Spencer shuddered at the feeling of you clenching around him. “Gonna let me fill you up, huh, angel? Gonna let me put another baby in you?”

“Yes, yes, please Spencer, put a baby in me. Fuck a baby into me.” You plead.

Spencer lets out a groan as his thrusts begin to slow down, losing himself in you as he comes, shooting every last drop of his load into you. He brought you closer to him, and you wrapped your arms around him. He stayed inside of you, not wanting to let any of his cum leak out of you. His breathing was starting to come back to normal, just as yours was too. He lifted himself up just enough to look at you.

“I love you so much, angel.” He whispers before leaning down and kissing you. You smile into the kiss.

“I love you so much, baby.” You mumble against his lips. He releases your mouth from his, you letting out a groan and he chuckles.

“Come on, we need to clean you up and then we need to go to bed.” He says, pulling himself out of you, and you shiver at the loss of him.

After carrying you upstairs to your en-suite bathroom, cleaning you up and letting you pee, he helped you get into your pyjamas and laid you down on the bed, lifting the covers and getting in next to you, pulling you closer to him.

“I’ll pick up some pregnancy tests tomorrow on my way home from work.” He whispered against your head, his arms wrapped around you. You nod, looking up at him.

“It might take a little while for us to actually get pregnant, you know.” You say to him, and he shrugs.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes. As long as I get to come home every day to you, fucking you until you can’t walk, I’m happy.” He smirks.

You let out a chuckle. “You do that anyway.”

“Yeah, but this time, I’ll be able to come home one day to see you with a belly and our little baby inside.”

Four Months Later

Spencer came home from work, a breath of relief leaving him and he closed and locked the door, placing his keys and bag down, heading straight to the kitchen, where he placed the takeaway chinese bag down. The house was quiet. He knew Oliver would still be at school, but his wife technically should be at home, but he couldn’t hear anything.

“Angel? Are you home?” He shouted, hoping his voice would reach all corners of the house. He listened carefully, and heard a small noise coming from upstairs. His face twisted in confusion as he marched upstairs, searching every room before walking into their shared bedroom. “Are you in here?”

“Bathroom.” His wife replied, and Spencer finally felt himself relax. He opened the door to the bathroom and saw you sitting on the counter. “Hey.” You smile up at him, opening up your arms.

Spencer smiled as he moved closer to you, positioning himself between your legs and wrapping his arms around you, just as you did the same.

“Why are you in here, angel?” He asked against her neck.

“Well, I actually have something to tell you.” You said, unwrapping your arms around him. Spencer moved back a little, confusion once again taking place on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby.” You smile.

“You woke up this morning feeling sick, angel. When I left this morning, you were in here throwing up, and now that I’ve come home, I find you in here again.” He says, worry evident in his words.

“Well, about that…” You smirk as you reach behind you, picking something up but hiding it in your hands. “After you left, I started to think… so I went out… and now I know why I felt so sick this morning.” You say as you reveal a pregnancy test in your hands with a smile.

Spencer’s eyes widen as he looks down, seeing the very clear and obvious plus sign on the test. He looks up at you and grins. “You’re pregnant.”

You nod happily. “We’re having another baby.”

Spencer instantly wraps his arms around you, picking you up and leading you into the bedroom, placing you gently down on the bed. “My beautiful angel, my wonderful wife, is giving me another baby.” He chuckles as he moves on top of you, kissing you deeply.

Spencer was definitely a man of science, but that didn’t stop him from thanking God that night while you were asleep next to him later that night. He thanked God for letting him go through everything he had to go through, because he knew he’d go through all of it over and over again, as long as he knew he’d be here. As long as Spencer was able to spend every day married to you, loving you and your children, he’d do it all over again.

Please share some love (I don’t really know how Tumblr works yet), and let me know if you have any requests or questions.

Love, AA

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #i love nerdy boys #someone give spencer reid a child #x reader

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fleursbending · 2 years ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲’𝐬 𝐀𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. | Sully Family

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : after the successful intervention, your family's hearts still burn for some good ol' revenge. luckily for them, an unfortunate event arises that allows them to do just that.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : sully!family x sully!daughter reader

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : i apologise that this took a lot longer than it should have to be posted! i initially wasn't going to do a part 2, but so many ppl wanted it i just decided eh why the heck not?? with that being said, pls read part 1 before this because i don't think this can be read as a stand-alone! mother!tiri really shines through this time so now i'm just healing your mommy and daddy issues atp.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : bullying/teasing?, hurt/comfort yk the drill, angst, fluff, lo'ak pummels ao'nung, pissed mom!tiri, tonowari pops tf off, dorky brother neteyam, ao is a dickwad here!

𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐫𝐲 : (actually highkey proud of this i'm trying to use more na'vi in my stories from now on) Tsmuke - sister, Skxawng - moron/idiot, Tsmukan - brother, Yaymak - foolish/ignorant, Sa'nok - mother, Txavä’ -disgusting, ‘Itetsyìp - little daughter (term of endearment), Tsamsiyu - warrior, Muntxate - wife/female spouse, Olo’eyktan - clan leader, ‘Ite - daughter, Itan - son, Sempul - father, Uturu - sanctuary, Oeyä - my (possessive), ‘Awsiteng - together.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 2.9k words !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @pandorainmymind @eywas-heir @spicycloudsalad @missdreamofendless @prty-poisxn @scarlettwitch-4 @23victoria @avidreader3107 @purplehyacinthss @itssiaaax @neteyamoa @tsireyasgf @nijirozzz @useryourbut @yua-himari @sweetheartlizzie07 @grierpilots @reneehillary69 @fruitsalad1 @forasgaard @iwaslikeblah @dumb-fawkin-bitch @theicemav @narutoboi

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 today, it had been storming the last few days. Now you and your siblings were making the most of the sunshine. Things have been really good the past few weeks, and slowly you were finally beginning to warm up to the ocean. The past had to stay where it was, now you were gradually moving on.

Y/n remembers her dad's words then, "It's the little steps that end up making the biggest difference."

He was right, they really did.

"Neteyam", Y/n giggled as he splashed water at her whilst she sat at the edge of the platform they used to easily access jumping into the water when calling for their Ilu's. Her legs dangled over the edge, peering down at her siblings.

"Tsmuke, you are being silly! Come join us in the water!" Neteyam tried to beckon you to join him and Tuk as they played with their Ilu's.

"Yeah, come on Y/n!" Tuk whined, only to be cut off by ecstatic laughter as her Ilu nudged their head onto her back.

Y/n held her hands up then, an unfinished anklet dangling below the palm of her hand.

"I am finishing this, you skxawngs." She reminded them, wanting to give it to Tsireya once it was finished.

As Y/n began to reach out of her reserved shell, Tsireya swooped right in. She, Neteyam, and Tsireya had become a trio of sorts. She was hoping to make matching anklets for all of them.

"Alright, we're going to ride our Ilu's further out. Is that okay, tsmuke?" Neteyam called out to you, pointing further out.

You rolled your eyes at his worried tone.

You love your family, really you do. But the one downside to the confrontation you had with all of them. Well, they've been treating you like a little baby ever since then.

The doting and attention were very much appreciated at first. But it escalated to your siblings trailing after you everywhere you went, for the most part. They'd become increasingly overprotective whenever Ao'nung and his crew were in close proximity to you. The kicker? They implemented a curfew for you now. You had to be home an hour before dinner was ready, a whole hour!

Basically, your freedom and alone time had been cut in half. Stripped away from you. While you looked a lot more healthy and since perked up in the past few weeks - your family continued to remain on the edge. They just didn't anything to further happen to you, especially now that you've progressed so much.

The Sully's knew you were a strong girl, but the pieces you were starting to put back together could easily be ripped apart again. So for the time being, they'll do whatever it takes to prevent it.

Unfortunately for them, such an event was just right around the corner.

Y/n scrutinized Neteyam and in return, the eldest son wiggled his nonexistent eyebrows in a taunting manner.

"Yes, tsmukan. Now go!" You urged him to leave as Tuk waved bye to you.

Letting out a happy sigh at the silence that filled you, wow - this was really nice. She thought to herself. Just the waves rippling beneath you is what accompanies you.

Neteyam was about to dive into the water when he turned to look back and check on you. There you sat in the same position, back hunched and eyes focused as you continued to weave the unfinished anklet.

He nodded to himself then, satisfied that you were alright.

Yet the moment he turned his back and dove into the water, the infamous group you've been trying to avoid made their way into the nook where your mauri and outdoor area were.

Y/n tensed as the air shifted, hearing the sounds of multiple footsteps nearing her. A feeling of deja vu surged through her, oh no.

"Alone, at last, the great daughter of Toruk Makto!" Ao'nung jeered as their shrill laughter raked through the once peaceful aura you were just starting to settle in.

A not-so-subtle hiss escaped your lips, eyes closing in disdain. Can a girl not get any damn alone time around here?

"What's this then? Oh, an anklet!" Ao'nung had stalked over to you from behind, ripping the unfinished weaved strings out of your hand.

Defeat flooded your futures, not wanting to make anything of this. Y/n hoped they'd just say a few insulting comments and mosey on out of here.

"Who is this for, me? I love it soooo much!" Ao'nung mocked, sarcasm dripping in his tone as his friends cheered him on.

"No. It is for your sister." Y/n deadpanned, not finding the amusement they seemed to be in this predicament.

"Well, it's quite pathetic. I think you should start over if you want my sister to actually appreciate this." He teased, nimble fingers beginning to untangle the hard work you had just done.

Your ears folded back then, standing up and facing the idiots. Cracking your neck, a harsh glare was sent their way. Sticking out your open hand, palm up in front of Ao'nung.

"Just stop that and hand it back over. Then you can be on your own merry ways." You tried to appease them.

"When did you suddenly find your voice? I ought to stomp it out." Ao'nung sneered at you then, and in a blink of an eye, he had thrown your project into the ocean.

"Ao'nung!" She fumed, angry eyes scouting the water but you could no longer see it.

"Yaymak! Useless like my father had said, how do you even survive? Come on, take a dip!" He contended, bending down beside you to push you in-

A jarring snarl erupts from behind them. They all jump and swivel around, but are instantly stumped.

There stood your Sa'nok, gripping a basket full of fruit so viciously that it chipped - pieces of dried flax splintering and falling to the ground.

"Txavä’. Useless? I ought to show you how you can become useless-" She stormed over to them making most of the boys in front of you yelp in surprise and jump back again.

"Sa'nok! Do not!" You remarked, astonished at her shameless way of protecting you.

Ever since finding out about what had happened to you, she'd been so civil whenever in the clan leader and tsahik's son's presence. Now she realises how eery those actions actually were. Oh great mother, she was just doing it for your sake.

"Ma ‘itetsyìp, she is a fierce tsamsiyu. Unlike you!" She vehemently fired, pointing at Ao'nung.

He began to splutter out apologies, the realisation dawning on him that he was being reprimanded by one of the fiercest women Awa'atlu had ever come across.

Another figure popped out of the shadows then, Lo'ak. His fists were tightly clenched at his sides, eyebrows furrowed as indignation rolled off of him in waves.

"Yaymak?! He snapped, and before you could even fully acknowledge his presence he rushed forward - tackling Ao'nung who was receiving a scolding from Neytiri, into the ocean before you.

"Lo'ak!" Y/n fretted as she peered over the edge to see the two boys yelling and cussing each other out as they floundered about in the water.

"What in the world…" Jake whispered in question to himself as him and Tonowari rounded the corner - quickening their paces due to the faint sounds of the commotion they had overheard.

His eyes widened at the scene before him, the chief mimicking his expression as well as they stopped, stunned in their tracks.

Neytiri was still yelling at the group of bullies, an accusatory finger prodding at one of his shoulders as he looked down at his feet in embarrassment. She turned a blind eye to what he rebellious son had just done, deeming it was rightfully deserved.

Both their eyes then flittered over to Y/n who was basically dangling on the edge of the platform, hauling a battered Lo'ak back up.

His drenched body collided with the surface and he grunted, but that didn't stop him from turning around to flip off Ao'nung who was struggling to push himself up.

"Yeah, eat shit!" Lo'ak continued to provoke him, even while branding a busted lip and what looked like the beginnings of a black eye.

"Lo'ak…" You cautioned, pointing to your father and Tonowari's looming figures.

"Oh fuck." He cursed to himself.

"What is going on here?" Tonowari boomed then, stepping forward and making his presence known.

Jake trailed behind him, tail swishing in unease.

"Neytiri!" He called for his muntxate, grabbing onto her and pulling Neytiri into his side.

You walked over to stand by your parents, guilt crescendoing - this happened all because of you. Stupid, you didn't want to make a scene in the first place.

"I'm sorry Olo'ektyan. This is all my fault." Y/n confessed, tail drooping as all the attention was shifted to her.

"She is lying! My 'ite cannot carry this burden any longer, she will not. This is all your son's fault! He has been antagonising my ‘itetsyìp since we came here." She persisted, a sigh of irritation falling from her lips as she once again pointed at Ao'nung.

The mentioned boy wiped his bloody nose, ears shifting as Neytiri said his name with such harsh conviction.

"'Itan, is what Neytiri speaks of true?" Tonowari divulged as he dug into Ao'nungs pride with a mere look.

"Yes, sempul. What she speaks of is true." He blanched at the scrutinizing look Jake targeted toward him.

It was like he was about to walk into the battlefield, gun in hand and ready to rain blood.

"Look at me, boy!" Tonowari thundered, eyes now slits as he admonished Ao'nung.

The clan leader's son could've gotten whiplash from how fast his head turned.

"Go home, and work up an apology. Now." The chief ordered.

"But, I can apologise now-" He tried to reason, wishing to get this embarrassment over and done with.

"It would be insincere." Both Neytiri and Tonowari spoke at once, the former giving an apologetic nod to your mother in agreement.

Ao'nung tried to fess up some words, but Tonowari glared. His chest almost heaving from contempt.

"Go!" He bellowed. Ao'nung with his tail between his legs scampered off back to his mauri.

His friends stood there, almost comically. They knew they were utterly fucked and word of this would travel back to their own families.

"Why are you still here, shouldn't you be working on your apologies as well?" Tonowari antagonised.

"Oh, uhm- sorry!" One of them spluttered before being shoved by another boy as they all ran off.

Tonowari sighed in chagrin, a hand of his meeting his face. He stood straight then, turning to acknowledge your family.

Right in tow, Neteyam, Tuk, and Kiri were pulling themselves back up from the ocean.

Lo'ak went over to help them. Ignoring the worried hands of his older brother that looked over his bruises.

"As Olo'ekytan, I failed in my duties today. As a father, I also failed. I sincerely apologise to you, dear." He looked at you then, eyes full of guilt as he briefly placed his hand on your shoulder.

"I will be sure that he will see through a firm reprimanding, Jake Sully." Tonowari called to the man that had become his good friend.

"I raise my apology to the rest of your family as well. You came here to seek uturu. This will not happen again."

Jake motioned, Oel ngati kameie, to him. Tonowari returned the motion, bowing his head down lower than usual to try to convey his genuine upset at the situation his son had conjured.

"You are a fierce mother, Neytiri. Your Sa'nok would be proud." Tonowari added, before turning around and making his exit too.

Neytiri watched him leave, a faint smile on her lips before giving all her undivided attention to you.

"Oeyä 'ite, are you hurt?" She necessitated, lifting your arms up and checking for any wounds.

"Sa'nok, I am fine." You dejected, eyes flittering to look anywhere to ignore her studying gaze.

"What happened?" Neteyam interjected, rushing over to you and bringing you into a hug. He felt terrible for having left you alone.

"I'm never leaving you again." He whispered, holding your head to his chest.

While the words came with comfort, they made your chest constrict.

Agitated you shoved him away. In return, Neteyam fumbled backward in surprise.

"Y/n!" Kiri gasped in shock.

"I am fine! I'm going to be fine! I'm not dying or anything, I'm still here okay?! I appreciate the concern, but please. Just, leave me alone." Your voice grew fainter towards the end of your speel, tears welling up in your eyes.

Cursing to yourself you rushed into the family mauri, humiliation seeping into your conscience.

Jake began to follow you but Neytiri put a hand on his chest. It had emerged on her then, how a situation that seemed so minor grew to become a lot more vocal than any of them prepared for.

Y/n was not one for attention, let alone being stuck in the midst of it all.

"Give her a moment, then we will go and console her," Neytiri spoke with quiet empathy.

"Okay." Jake agreed hesitantly, all he wanted to do was comfort his daughter. But he knew how much you needed your alone time.

So they huddled, ‘awsiteng. They waited, ‘awsiteng.

Until the light escaped the sky, and your raspy voice cut through the gentleness of the night.

"You can come in now, you didn't have to just wait outside. I'm sorry."

Jake looked to his family then, before they all slowly got up and made their way into the Mauri.

You were huddled in front of the fire, a blanket shrouding you as you blankly stared into the burning embers before you.

"Ma 'ite. You are not alone." Jake murmured as he sat by you, brushing away a stray strand of hair that had cast itself over your bloodshot and puffy eyes.

"I know." You acknowledged.

"Tsmuke, you are not alone." Lo'ak reiterated.

"Yes, I know." You acknowledged again, finally looking up at them as they all sat in a circle around the fire.

"‘Itetsyìp, you are never alone," Neytiri affirmed, having sat by your other side and giving your cheek a soft kiss.

"I know. Are you all trying to make me cry again?" You garbled, tears prickling in your eyes at the warmth you were receiving after giving them the cold shoulder.

"No, we aren't! I don't like it when you cry." Tuk remarked, jumping up from her spot and running over to you. Giving you a hug from behind as her little thumbs rubbed away the tears that began to stream down your face.

"Useless my ass! That shithead was so stupid to say tha-" It seemed Lo'ak was still hung up on what Ao'nung had said.

"Lo'ak!" You all chided, quiet laughter following.

Jake grinned down at you then, his teeth even showing a little as he watched his pride and joy laugh. "Baby girl, we mean it. We're all in this together…‘awsiteng."

"‘Awsiteng." You repeated, smiling up at him.

He combed through your hair, bringing you and Tuk into his chest.

"And you're right. You need some alone time, yeah? But we'll always be right around the corner. Okay?" Jake continued to reassure you, rubbing your shoulder - or what part he could reach since Tuk wouldn't let go of you still.

"Okay." You mumbled, arms wrapping around his shoulders and squeezing.

The pieces that felt so scattered and displaced suddenly puzzled back together.

This is home. Not the forest, not the ocean, not the mauri you all resided in.

As chatter overtook the silence, your parents began to cook up a late dinner. Your eyes met Neteyam's who sat directly parallel to you - he gave you a dorky thumbs up. Your little sign between each other that Jake had mentioned in passing that sky people do when you were younger, "Hey, are you okay?"

You returned it with your own equally as dorky thumbs up, earning a questionable look from your mother who after all these years - still could not fully grasp the concept.

This is home, the family that would always accept and love you through the toughest of times. Your family, that always made you feel whole. Complete.

As Neteyam yipped happily at your thumbs up, unable to hold his happiness under wraps. You thought then,

"Eywa, there is no other place I'd rather be."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ˳೫˚

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 :

As your family began to prepare to sleep, Lo'ak tapped your shoulder.

You turned to him, giving him a questioning gaze.

"Yes, Tsmukan?"

He opened your hands before a familiar unfinished project was placed gently in them.

"I tried to dry it outside, I don't know how salvageable it'll be but I am willing to help. I know Tsireya really likes- oomph!"

You stood on your tippy toes, tugging him in to a gracious embrace.

He smiled then, hands wrapping around you as he swayed you two from side to side.

"I appreciate it so much, thank you brother."

𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒃𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ━━━ 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑

⤷ feedback and reblogs are always much appreciated ! feel free to ask through my inbox if you would like to join my taglist. ♡

#junie's library 📚✧.*#neytiri x daughter!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #sully family #neteyam x sister!reader #atwow x reader #atwow #avatar imagine #avatar x reader #avatar fanfiction #avatar the way of water #avatar james cameron #lo'ak x sister!reader #neteyam sully x reader #jake sully x reader #neytiri x reader #avatar

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eliasorchard · 2 months ago

Note

Alright I'm actually very embarrassed since I've never shared my writings before, but here goes nothing

Also it has a rushed ending because, well I'm not sure why. 👁️👄👁️

Warnings: suggestive (not nsfw), nudity, most likely wrong use of the english language.

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As carefully as she could, (name) gently straddled William's thighs, who was lying beneath her -after all his body was still fragile even if he didn't show it much. William closes his eyes and lets out a breathy moan, his attention- starved body filing with electrifying sensations. (Name) places her hands on his shoulders for balance and gazes worriedly down at her lover

"Are you okay?" She questions, taking in both his scarlet eye and his blind one.

William chuckles softly "I am quite alright, sweetheart. You needn't worry so much" he extends a hand, cupping her face lovingly and brushing his thumb against the skin of her cheek. (Name) places her own palm on top of his, "I apologise... You've given me plenty of reasons to worry about you, Will"

William follows her eyes, cascading down his body and stopping at his thorax, at the injury, now a scar, that had taken the longest to heal. (Name) traces her fingers across the scar, ranging from his left side to his right breast.

"I don't remember this one... Is it.. from when you...?" She didn't dare finish her sentence, she didn't want this intimate moment to be ruined by such recollections.

"Yes" William nods "Though I have no memory of it. I have more on my back"

They lock eyes once more, William's affectionate gaze meets her concerned one.

"Can I... See?" (Name) asks somewhat hesitantly. She didn't want to turn what was going to be a night of passion and love into a bitter memory of the past.

William chuckles softly "Right now? Well, I could never say no to you, sweetheart"

The blonde man places his hands on her waist, assisting her off him, and then sits up himself, facing the other way.

After all those years of marriage, showing his bare body to his wife came naturally for William. She was able to pierce through the walls surrounding his heart, and see his true self. His flesh was a mere extension of that.

Though, after the three years of his absence, he felt exposed, embarrassed even, as the woman he had chose to wed scanned the newly acquired scars on his back. After all, this was a new part of him to be discovered, and accepted.

(Name) traced the scars streaming down his back, she figured those were numerous since his back was left uncovered as he and Sherlock fell into the Thames.

"Do they hurt now?"

"No. Not anymore. At least, not physically"

William was taken by surprise, when he felt (Name)'s lips on his skin. Snaking her arms around his torso, she pulls him into a hug, peppering kisses along his shoulder blades, and his nape.

"Well, I love them. They are a part of you, and therefore a part of me as well" she nuzzles the crook of his neck, as her husband collects her hands in his, kissing her fingers softly.

William breaks the hug, and turns towards her, teary- eyed. (Name) furrows her eyebrows, thinking she has disturbed the pain and sentiment slumbering inside his heart. She opens her arms "Come here" and William cuddles up on her motherly embrace, resting his head on her soft breast.

"There, there.... It's alright" (Name)'s reassuring words only make him more sensitive, and he wraps her arms around her tightly. "I love you, William. All of you"

this is beautiful, rose. all of the words bleed with so much affection and tenderness afjdjd. please don't be embarrassed, i'd absolutely love, love, love to see more of these. if i had to sum up your writing, i'd say it's most similar to (and reminds me of) greek sculptures— the mentions of body parts such as the thighs, the thorax, the shoulder blades, scars, breasts and the tears—further accentuated/enhanced by descriptions such as breathy, electrifying, motherly embrace, "pierce the walls surrounding his heart", "flesh a mere extension of that" etc, they don't overlap or swallow each other as it does in most cases, they come together in a flow. you're able to mix physical descriptions with metaphors(?) wonderfully. it's raw and romantic and it's beautiful, that's what it is.

either way i really really love how soft their relationship is. i really love how split open they are for each other and they don't hide away. they observe, understand, and accept. and i think that's a lovely thing. william being so emotionally open towards (name) and (name) being so wonderfully accepting was so nice to see. this truly was a gift

"THANK YOU, ROSE" we all say in unison

#the way this instantly lifted my mood 🙏🙏 i was having the worst splitting headache known to mankind and you just drop in with this #beautiful beautiful beautiful writing #arghhhh #i love you rose ☹️☹️#you're so talented #AIEIDJDJ #have you considered writing #—asks.al #—moots.al #—rose.al #moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x you

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slavicdelight · 1 year ago

Text

HIRAETH

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targ! Royce! f! reader

Summary: Hiraeth - A Welsh word meaning a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return; a home which maybe never was. Nostalgia, yearning, and grief, for the lost places of your past or a sense of home.

Warnings: blood, murder, violence, angst, canon divergence

A/N: This is part 2 of EPHEMERAL

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You awoke to the sound of crashing outside your chambers. Looking at the other side of the bed, you noticed that Aemond wasn’t there and the spot he occupied is cold, which means he has been gone for a while now. You stretched your arms and decided to get up to check the sound, only to find out that the doors were closed and you couldn’t get out. With a scowl, you tried to pry the entrance open, and when that didn’t work you banged on the wood and called out for help. The loud noise woke your daughter up as she started crying for attention, and you decided to stop your efforts and comfort her. “Good morning my dear girl.” you greeted Alysanne while picking her up from the cradle. “Oh, I’m sorry to have woken you little dragon. Did you sleep fine?” you asked and rocked her back and forth to calm her. When she opened her violet eyes to look at you, the love overcame you even stronger, she was your miracle, you didn’t know earlier that you could love someone as much as you did her. Nothing is equal to a mother’s love. You were so mesmerized by her, that you weren’t aware of the door opening and your husband walking in. Aemond stood in the doorway looking at you both, his heart warming up at the picture in front of his eye. You, his beloved wife, looked ethereal as always. The rays of sunshine, that burst through the window made the skin on your face glowing, and your attire added to the notion of thinking you an angel. Seeing you holding Alysanne, the epitome of the love you both share, made the sight even more beautiful. He slowly walked closer and placed his hands around your waist, making you jump a little.

“Aemond! You have frightened me!” you scolded him, turning to stand with him face to face. “I am extremely sorry, my love. It was not my intention.” he apologised with a faint smile, but the tone of his voice made you worried. There was something tense in it, and you wondered if it had anything to do with you being held in the room. “What’s wrong?” you asked him, making him sigh. He took the little girl from your arms, placing her back in the cradle, much to her protests, and led you to sit on the bed. You complied and waited eagerly for his answer, which he provided in an uneasy voice. “King Viserys is dead.” you sucked in your breath. The news wasn’t exactly unpredictable, but it still caught you off guard. While the king didn’t pay you much attention growing up, he was still your uncle, your blood, and that made you somewhat sad. “Oh.” was the only thing that left your mouth, as you were processing what you just learned, but your husband wasn’t done yet. “Apparently, he wished for Aegon to succeed him.” and with that your head whipped around to look at him so fast, that one could thing you broke the neck. This was new, as for years Viserys did nothing, but defend Rhaenyras claim to the throne and her position as heir, neglecting his other children in turn. Aegon as king was a bizarre thought. You also saw the distaste in Aemond’s features once he shared the news, everyone at court knew he detested his brother for everything he put him through as a child, and for being a useless waste of space. “I’m so sorry Aemond.” you told him, grabbing one of his hands to squeeze in a comforting manner. “For what? We all knew it would happen sooner or later.” you got up to stand before him and looking straight into his eyes you said “Yes, but he was still your father. You’re allowed to mourn for him” he stood up angrily and turned away to look into the burning flames in the fireplace

“He never noticed me. He never noticed any of us. It was always Rhaenyra for him. It was af if we were not his children, more like distant relatives he only had to see once in a while. He was no father to me. Criston Cole was more of a father than he was.” you walked to him and hugged his back, placing you chin on his shoulder. “What’s done is done. We need to get ready for our duties and coronation of a new king.” he said turning to you and kissing you on your forhead. In that moment a servant appeared and told your husband that his grandsire wished to see him. That left you alone in the chamber and you decided to call the maids to dress you and Alysanne for the day, as you were planning to check on Helaena and see how she was holding up. You chose one of your many beautiful sapphire gowns with long sleeves and dragons embroidered on the skirt, it was a gift from Aemond. The color resembles the eye he hides under the eyepatch. You also own a big collection of sapphire jewellery, the common folk taken to calling you and your husband the Sapphire Prince and Princess.

You sat with Heleana as the children played together with the maids watching over them. “How are you feeling, Hel? With the pressure of being crowned queen soon enough.” you asked your friend. “There is a beast beneath the boards.” she muttered, but quickly recvered to ansewr your question. “To speak truthfully, I don’t know. I never wanted the crown, all I wish for is spending time with my children, away from all these schemes and politics.” she said in a sad voice. You reached over to take her hand, which she accepted. It was known that Helaena did not like touching, but you were her sister, her dearest friend, and for that reason you were the exception. “I’m sorry about all of this. It shouldn’t have been your burden to carry.” it was a pity that she was married to Aegon, he didn’t deserve her. Soon Queen Alicent came to join you for tea and the three of you tried to forget about what was to come, if only for a little while.

time skip

It was time to crown the new king. You, Aemond, and Helaena stood in the Dragon Pit, watching people flooding in. Otto proposed to hold the ceremony before the eyes of common folk, so that they would recognize Aegon as the rightful king. It was a smart move, you have to admit that, but you knew that it would not stop Daemon and Rhaenyra from trying to take the throne back. In truth you didn’t care who sat the throne, all you wanted was to fly back to Runestone with your husband and daughter and live your life peacefully there. You begged Alicent to let you leave, that you wanted nothing to do with their schemes, but it all fell of deaf ears. She only told you that it was Aemonds duty to stand by his brother’s side, and as his wife, you should support him. Aemond noticed you anxiously playing with the ring on your finger and placed a hand on your back to help you ease up a bit. In that moment you saw Alicent arrive at the scene, which means Aegon is outside and the coronation is going to start. “People of King’s Landing. It is the saddest of days. King Viserys the Peaceful passed away.” started Otto Hightower and you heard the murmuring all around the pit. “It is also a joyous day, as he left us with his final wish for his son Aegon to succeed him.” The soldiers marched into the room creating a path for the late king’s eldest son to walk towards the stand. Once Ser Criston Cole placed the Conqueror’s crown atop his head, he stood up and looked at every member of his family for approval. When his eyes landed on you, you gave him a quick courtesy with a clenched jaw. He then turned to the crowd and lifted the sword, Blackfyre, and you could’ve swear that in that moment, he started to like his new position and power.

A few seconds later the happy shouts became screams of terror, as the ground began to fall and from below emerged a red dragon. It was Meleys with Princess Rhaenys at her back. The Red Queen came closer to where you all stood. Aemond quickly put you and Helaena behind himself for protection, and you noticed Alicent doing the same with Aegon in the corner of your eye. You thought to yourself that that was it, you would all die in the flames, but the dragon only roaerd in your faces and Rhaenys escaped, no doubt to Dragonstone to inform Rhaenyra and your father of what transpired. The image of Daemon made you shiver, now you were sure that he will be out for your blood.

Once in the safety of the castle, you hastily made way to the nursery to be with your daughter. You found her in the arms of one of the maids. You put her on the rug and started playing with her. About half an hour later Aemond came into the room. “They’re sending me to Storm’s End as an envoy. I’m to bind Lord Borros’ loyalty to our cause.” you frowned and tried to talk him out of it. “No. Have them send someone else and let us go back to the Vale.” you saw him lower his gaze and try to stop you, but you didn’t let him. “You know that Daemon won’t let this slide, he will be out for revenge against his wife! I don’t want us to be caught in the crossfire!”. “Aegon’s my brother. I have to do this, as it is my duty. I will go and offer the Baratheon fool Daeron’s hand in marriage to his daughter. I will be back before you know it.”. You didn’t like it and had a bad feeling, but you knew how stubborn your husband is and there will be no talking him out of it. You let him go, and for the next couple of days, you stayed close with Helaena and Alysanne. Finally, when you heard the unmistaken sound of Vhagar, you were elated, as it meant your dearest husband was back. Without a thought, you sprinted towards the council chamber where you knew he would head first. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you heard next. Aemond Targaryen committed the greatest sin known to men - kinslaying. He murdered his nephew, Lucerys Velaryon in the skies, while chasing him on his war dragon. “You have lost only one eye, how could you be so blind?!” chastised him Otto Hightower, while the new king sat and laughed in delight. “You have doomed us all!” screamed Alicent and you were just horrified. You knew they would retaliate, ater all, your husband killed Rhaenyra’s favourite child. Your head kept spinning as images of could they do now invaded your mind. “The bastard is dead. Others would be soon too. It seems to me that we ought to have a feast in my beloved brother’s honour.” said Aegon and made no room to argue, while you just got up and ran back to your chambers.

When you entered your rooms, the tears spilled. You cried for the boy, for your husband and for yourself, but most importantly, you cried for your daughter. Now there was no way for you all to return to normal life, not when your husband began the war, that will certainly become marred with even more bloodshed soon enough. Aemond walked into the room not much later, and flinched when he heard your desperate cries. When he tried to touch you, you just backed into the corner. “Do not touch me!” you screamed, trying to compose yourself. “How could you?! Do you have any idea what you have done?!” you continued yelling. It was a good thing Alysanne was left under the care of Helaena and wasn’t there to witness the fight of her parents. “My love…” he started but you cut him off. “No! Don’t you dare! You put all of us in grave danger! They will want blood for this! My father won’t stop until he avenges Luke! Blood will flow this castle! There would be no peace for us! No mercy!” you started hyperventilating, you were having a panic attack. “Darling please, listen to me. I didn’t mean for it to happen. Vhagar didn’t listen to my commands. She devoured him on her own accord.” you just looked at him, your gaze full of hurt and fear, it broke his heart seeing you like this. “Your mother is right. You have doomed us all! You shouldn’t chase him in the first place, what did you expect to happen!?”. He noticed you shaking and took you into his arms as you tried to break free. After a minute of struggle, your energy drained out and you just accepted the hug, just laying in his embrace motionless. As much as you hated him for what he’s done, you loved him way to much to be angry for long. Now you needed to focus on protecting your family, no matter the cost, as you knew that the payment will come sooner or later.

It wasn’t until one night, when your husband was away gathering support for Team Green, that the retaliation for Lucerys came. You and Helaena were on your way to Queen Dowager’s chambers with your children, as it was a routine lately, to spend some time before heading to bed. Once you entered the chambers, you saw Alicent Hightower gagged and bound, as well as two unfamiliar men standing inside the room. Both quickly overpowered you and the princess and barred the door. “Tis’ nothing personal. A debt to be paid. Nothin’ more” said one while they both took the children captive. “The False Queen needs to choose, which son has to die. Fast before we make the choice ourselves.” said the other assailant. “Please! They’re innocent, spare them.” you tried pleading with them as Helaena offered hersef in the children’s place. “A queen is not a son.” said one man and ushered her to make a choice. You tried to get to the children but there was no way for you to do so, without harming the children in the process. “Maelor.” Helaena whispered. The younger son was still at the age where he didn’t understand what was happening around him, same as your daughter. “You heard that boy? Your mommy doesn’t love you” as while saying that, the man cut off the head of Jeahaerys, the oldest son of Aegon and Helaena, and the other one repeatedly stabbed little Alysanne in her cheast and belly. “NO!” you screamed as you saw the man throwing your daughter’s lifeless body, as if it was a useless rag. You and Helaena quickly made way to you fallen children weeping so horribly, that the whole castle heard it. The sound of grieving mothers tore through the walls, making anyone who heard it flinch. “No, no, no, no..”you muttered holding your daughter. “My light, please, open your eyes. Please.” you wailed as you rocked her in your arms, pleading to the Gods for it to be an awful nightmare. It was not an awful nightmare, but rather dreadful reality. The only thing you heard except for yours, Helaena and Alicent’s crying was the escape of the murderers and words “Black Queen sends her regards”.

While you were being attacked, your husband returned to the keep and immediately went to find you. Once in the castle, he heard the screams leading to his mother’s apartments and he hastily made way there, along with Aegon and Ser Criston Cole. They found the door barricaded and called for more guards to help remove the obstacle, and when it was done, they saw the most horrifying scene. Dead bodies of their children, weeping wives and their mother tired up and gagged. When Queen Dowager explained them what took place, they went inot the state of madness, Aegon started yelling how could the guards let it happen, that he wanted the men found and brought to him, he was inconsolable. Aemond on the other hand stood frozen, he knew it happened because of him,. His nephew and his daughter, his beloved Alysanne, were ripped away from this world because of his own stupidity. He caused that and he couldn’t even look into your eyes, nor Helaena’s. He was overcome with grief and loathing for his actions, but he knew he had to be strong for you, even though he wanted to break down into tears himself. “My love…” he tried to get your attention, but you were focused on your daughter’s face. You dress soaked in her blood, as you stroked her hair singing her favourite lullaby. There was no way for you to let go of her, your state was truly horrible. After sitting there for hours, Silent Sisters came to collect the body, but you didn’t want to part with her, with your sweet Alysanne. Aemond came up to you. “Darling…she’s gone. You have to give her to them. They need to prepare her for the funeral.” you were reluctant, but Aemond finally managed to convince you to let go of her body.

For weeks after that you were closed off, not going out of your chambers, dismissing everything that happened around you. You couldn’t bear the grief and the emptiness this brought you. Even at the funeral you blocked it all out, when the children’s bodies were shown to the people of King’s Landing declaring it to be work of “Rhaenyra the Cruel”. All you wanted was your daughter, but you couldn’t have her, as she was so cruelly taken from you. At the battle at Rook’s Rest Aegon got badly injured, it was a miracle he even pulled through, and your husband was crowned Prince Regent to rule in his stead untill the king recovers. He gathered the army and with the new Hand of the King, Ser Criston, he marched on Harrenhall. Aemond feared leaving you alone and decided it would be best to bring you along. During your stay there, your husband ordered the extermination of house Strong. No one was spared, but a witch named Alys Rivers, who Aemond taksed with your recovery. You and the bastard woman became fastly friends, and she helped you find the courage to join your husband on the battlefield. You wanted revenge and you were out for blood. Soon enough along with Aemond you were terrorizing the Riverlands and became a symbol of death, as you burned every keep, and every lord known to be loyal to the blacks. Vhagar and Canniball were a formidable duo that spread fear all around the realm.

Eventually, when you were away from Harrenhall, your husband received a letter from your father Daemon, that he’s waiting for him and wishes to battle. Without telling you, he made way towards the God’s Eye and without fear fought against your father. After you found the letter, you jumped atop the Canniball and flew towards the battlefield, only to arrive to late, as you witnessed Daemon jumping off Caraxes’ back and plunging Dark Sister into your Aemond’s good eye. You screamed seeing this and urged your dragon to fly faster. Aemond and Vhagar fell into the waters and sank into the lake, as you took on Daemon and Caraxes to avenge your family. The battle was tough, but you emerged victorious, thanks to stabbing your father straight through his neck. As you landed on the shore, you weeped. For your daughter, your husband, your mother who were all killed by Daemon Targaryen, as well as Helaena who committed suicide by throwing herself from the tower, landing on spikes. You were alone, you lost everything. You and Alys went into hiding, up until hearing the news of the death of Rhaenyra. Aegon fed her to his dragon Sunfyre, while her young son watched. Soon enough the king was poisoned by his own men, Alicent was confined to her chambers and was said to go insane. It was too much for you. All you wanted was to be back with your family, that’s why one day, when Alys wasn’t there, you decided to drink poison. Just before going to bed, you took a sip, and faded away into dreamland, where you saw your husband and your daughter eagerly waiting for you. You knew that you could spend eternity together.

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A/N: Alright guys. The second part is here. Thank you for all the support you shown me on my first post. Soon I'll be posting more stuff on this page so stay tuned ♡.

@heavenly1927 @marihoneywk @nyenye

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queenofmistresses · 7 months ago

Note

adam x dom!reader where he makes a sexist, misogynistic comment about you so you have to teach him a lesson and decided to make him suck your strap and maybe he cums from it? untouched and truly pathetic

A/n thanks for the request lovely! I hope you enjoyy sorry it took a little while!

Warnings: dubious consent but only lightly - she’s quite forceful but he does agree to it. Slapping, strap sucking (obviously), adam is a dick at the start, let me know if i missed anything!!

“Look it’s just a fact, and I should know as the original dick.” He winks, “Women are naturally submissive. That’s how God made them.” I snort at his incredibly stupid logic.

“Remind me again why your first wife left you?” I sneer at him, watching as he now breaks eye contact and stutters over his words searching for a response. Ever since he came to hell he’s been acting like an entitled brat and I’ve had enough. I’ve made more entitled men than him apologise for their ignorance and Adam is not going to be an exception.

That same day Charlie treats everyone at the hotel to a night out, letting me and angel dust take the lead to take care of everyone since we know the scene a bit better than… well… all of them. Angel enlists Husks’ help in watching over Nifty and I take care of Adam. Which makes my plans a lot easier.

I have a couple shots, letting myself loosen up a little, I watch Adam do the same. I don’t drink much though, and don’t let Adam either, not wanting to be too out of it tonight. For once I let Adam flirt with me, biting my tongue and holding back the roll of my eyes as he spouts nonsense.

I start getting flirtatious back, even a little touchy, and I have to admit to myself that I am enjoying it. After a little while of back and forth I indicate towards the sex room, not waiting for an answer, and pick up my bag before walking into the room. I hear him flail behind me to keep up, almost like a puppy.

He shuts the door and before he has time to make any stupid remarks (which I can see on his even more stupid face that he’s about to) I reach into my bag and pull out my strap on, effectively stopping any movement from him. His mouth is agape for a moment but he seems to try and form some words as his mouth opens and closes periodically. “I would prefer if you’d stay silent.” I say, as calm and cooly as I can. He seems to listen because his mouth clamps shut and he nods. Maybe this would be easier than I thought. “Good.” I say.

I place my bag down, leaving just the strap on in my hands now, investigating it as if I hadn’t seen it many times before. “I’ve made a decision.” I decide to start with, barely grabbing his attention away from the silicone cock in my hand. “You need to be taught a lesson.” His head shoots up to look at me dead in the eyes, though I’m not sure whether he looks more scared or aroused. “Ever since you came here you’ve been acting like a teenage boy and treating me, and everyone else here like shit. I won’t put up with it.” I watch his throat bob and a sick pleasure courses through me. “I’ve taken it upon myself to show you how things work around here, and how things are going to work here,” I indicate towards the two of us, “from now on.”

His face looks completely flushed, and I don’t have to look for long to see how hard he is under his clothes. I scoff and walk towards him, “How does that sound whore?” I whisper cruelly up at him, watching as he nods enthusiastically without hesitation, almost as if he’s lost his own sense of self-control. “Use your words.” I say sternly.

“Please.” He breathes out pathetically, making me smirk as he shudders.

I tell him to strip himself out of all of his clothes, which he does rapidly, as I put the strap on myself. Once he stands completely naked in front of me I look at him properly. I can feel him looking at me too. “Good. Now, you are going to get onto your fucking knees and suck my strap until I decide you’ve done enough.”

I watch as he kneels down in front of me, not allowing him to break eye contact. He shuffles forwards until he’s close to me, and I see him hesitate. “Well? What are you waiting for?” His throat bobs for a moment before he moves his head forward, taking the tip into his mouth. He sucks on it gently and looks up at me, almost like he wants me approval. I roll my eyes, “You’re pathetic. Surely you know how to suck cock properly? Or should I find some other whore who knows how to actually do it?”

That seems to spur him on as his widens his mouth to take more of it, filling his mouth. Now he’s sucking my cock like he means it. Like he’s been waiting for this. Maybe he has. I smirk as he closes his eyes and brings a hand up to rub the base of the cock that he can’t fit it into his mouth. I can see that he’s rutting against the carpet as he does, “God you like this don’t you? I bet you’ve fantasised about being used as a cockwhore every day of your pathetic life.” This only makes him moan as he ruts his hips faster, chasing a release.

He tries to take my cock further down his throat but he ends up choking on it, though that doesn’t stop him. I reach my hand forward and grab by his hair, tight. “Relax your throat.” He does, staring up at me, and I slowly push his head further into my cock, watching it go further. Tears pool out of his eyes and fuck he looks amazing like this.

I reach into my pocket with my other hand and turn the camera on. As I point the camera towards him and press record, I see his hips get faster and rougher as he looks straight at the camera. “You are going to make the best fucktoy Adam sweetie. So fucking easy, just begging to be used by me.” His eyes roll back as he desperately tries to keep sucking on my cock as his hips stutter and I can see that he’s finished.

I keep recording as I slide my cock out of his throat and kneel down to be eye level with him. He’s panting but he still meets my eyes. I bring my hand up to hold his chin gently before I let go to bring my hand to slap his cheek. Hard. “Next time, you fucking ask before you cum. You’re worthless and if you can’t even control yourself then I have no use for you.” I practically growl out at him.

“Y-yes miss.” He stutters out just barely. I stroke his cheek softly and smile at him.

“See isn’t this so much better? I much prefer you like this, and I bet all our friends back at the hotel will too.” He nods at me, his mouth gaped open as I run my hands through his hair. “Good boy.”

#adam x reader #adam smut #hazbin hotel adam #sub!adam x reader #hazbin adam

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imtryingbuck · 6 months ago

Text

Nightmares and Shopping

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC!Theo

Summary: Bucky has to marry a woman who surprises him more and more as their story goes along.

Word count: 2,902

Warnings: angst. nightmares. mentions of urine. Eliza being the biggest cunt known to man. mentions of scars.

Masterlist Series Masterlist

By the time they had managed to try and salvage any of the supplies out of the warehouse - which wasn't a lot - it was late. Everyone was waiting for Bucky to say something, to say anything but he was silent. He didn't utter a word going there, during or after.

Getting into the car Bucky looked at his watch and sighed at how late it was, knowing that the conversation he was having with Theo before Steve interrupted was going to have to wait until morning, something he didn't want.

Walking into his home he climbed the stairs not even uttering a 'good night' like he did every night, leaving his family confused to his behaviour behind him.

Once he was settled into the huge warm embrace of his bed he let the quietness drift him off to sleep.

Bucky's startled awake from his slumber as the screams pierced throughout the house. Rubbing the sleep that had gathered in his eyes he grabs the gun from his bedside table and jumps out of bed.

He sees the members of his found family in the doorways to their room, each already armed. The screams of pure terror ring out from Theo's bedroom, not wasting a single second he barges inside nearly taking the door of its hinges, gun ready to shoot at the intruder who had the nerve to break in to his home and attack his wife.

Eyes searching the room he slowly lowers his gun, his heart cracking when he sees Theo backed into the corner rocking back and forth with her knees pulled tightly to her chest, stream of tears sliding down her cheeks. His heart cracking even more when he sees the blood lightly flowing from her swollen lips as she bites down on them.

"Doll, sweetheart wake up please" He pleads softly.

"No more pl-ple-please no more"

"Theo wake up sweet girl"

"P-p-please ma-ke them sto-p E-Eliza"

Bucky swears his heart is going to stop beating at the way she stutters, the way she pushes her already small frame further into the wall. The words she begs make his blood boil he mentally fights with his heart and mind, his heart wants to protect his wife even from her nightmares whilst his mind wants to know more so he can put a bullet through the bastards head who hurt her.

Placing his gun on the bottom of her bed he slowly walks towards her pleading with her to wake up as he goes, kneeling down on the ground in front of her he doesn't grimace when he kneels in the puddle of urine.

"Doll wake up please, you're safe no one's going to hurt you. Please baby wake up"

"No mo-more"

"No more sweetheart, I promise you. Just open those pretty eyes for me"

Steve needed to hold on to Wanda as she tried to get towards Theo to help her. Nat lowered her head. Sam flinched at the woman's cries.

Bucky. Bucky was trying to keep it together.

"N-no m-mo-more?" She questioned whilst still asleep.

“No more sweetheart." He promises.

Sighing a breath of relief as she pants for air, her eyes open. "M-mr James"

"Bucky sweetheart, your safe"

"I-I'm so sorry sir"

"Don't apologise come on let's get you cleaned up okay?"

"I-I-I'll clean-" her hands hovered over the accident she had.

"I'm talking about cleaning you up. Wanda's here and she'll help you okay darling"

Calling Wanda over he holds out his hand for Theo to take. When Wanda takes Theo into the bathroom, Nat leaves to get some clothes from Wanda's room before knocking softly to hand them to Wanda, Sam still had his eyes trained on the bathroom door. Steve moves in with a towel gripped tightly in his hand going to lay it over the puddle Bucky takes it from him and does it himself.

"Buck?"

"What am I going to do Stevie?" The last time Steve has ever seen his best friend cry was years ago when his grandmother had passed away. Seeing him with tears wetting his cheeks Steve doesn't waste a moment to pull his brother into his arms.

"We'll figure it out I promise"

As Bucky was about to reply the door came open revealing Theo who was now wearing clean clothes that belonged to Wanda.

"I'm going to be staying with her tonight Buck" Wanda speaks lowly.

They all watch as Theo moves quickly with her head down and crawls under the bed. Wanda gave Bucky a tight lipped smile and copied her friend's movements.

The rest go back to bed but Bucky. He shuts the door and drops to his knees, he lays on the floor next to the bed and slowly moves his hand out to reach hers.

Falling asleep on the cold wooden flooring was uncomfortable but Bucky found solace as he slid his hand into Theo's, her fingers squeezing ever so gently.

The sun rouses Wanda making her the first one to wake out of the trio, she beams at the sight of Bucky's hand linked tightly together with Theo's. Taking slow steps towards the door she makes her escape.

"Morning guys" she greets as she walks into the kitchen.

Receiving a chorus of greetings she takes a slice of toast off Nat's plate earning herself a smack on the hand.

"Bucky stayed with us last night, well early hours in the morning”

"Was anyone else's heart breaking at her cries or was it just me?" Sam questions with food in his mouth.

"How many times have I told you not to do that?" Steve's quick to scold him "and no mine was too"

"Same" Nat nods.

"So I was thinking all of us should leave, give all the staff the day off that way they can spend the day together" Steve says watching as his friends nod in agreement. They know Bucky needs this push.

The four of them clear out the house before Bucky and Theo wakes.

Bucky walks into the kitchen and sees Theo cooking breakfast he stands there for a moment to watch.

When he woke up he panicked when she wasn't there but hearing the distant sound of bacon sizzling he gathered she was downstairs.

"Morning Theo"

"Mr James I-I'm so sorry about last night"

"Bucky, everyone calls me Bucky so please stop with the whole mr James shit and stop apologising everyone gets nightmares" he says softly.

He stood and watched as her head dipped low as she turns back around to the bacon in the pan.

"Where is everyone?" He asks.

"There's a note on the counter"

He walks over to where a piece of paper laid on the marble top-

***

Buck we gave the day off to the staff and we've gone out for the day so you and Theo can talk, get to know each other.

Wanda says take Theo shopping as she desperately needs clothes.

See you later

***

"It's just the two of us today Wanda says to take you shopping for clothes, so we'll eat and go shopping, would that be okay?"

"I don't have any money sir"

"I'll pay and what have I said about calling me sir?"

"N-not to do it. I'm sorry. You don't need to waste your money on me"

"Stop apologising as well, please. And Theo I won't be wasting money on you"

Bucky's quick to notice that there's only enough food for him so as Theo's about to put the food out he tells her to sit at the table, putting the food she made in front of her he makes himself breakfast.

After eating and putting the dishes away they retreat upstairs.

"The store that Wanda loves to go to isn't that far we can go there if you like or do you have somewhere else in mind?" Bucky questions once the pair was on the road.

"I've never been shopping before Wanda took me" she whispers.

"Oh. I'm sorry that the first time you went shopping was with Wanda that girl don't know when to stop"

Bucky nearly crashed the car when he heard Theo laugh. Wanda was wrong, it wasn't cute. It was heavenly.

His eyes couldn't stop bouncing from the road to her sitting next to him, a small smile playing on his lips hoping, wishing that he could hear it again and again until death did them part. Even though he remembered that Theo had asked Michael for a divorce he kept telling himself that there was time for him to fix this marriage.

"It was fun, I had fun" she says with a smile.

"I'm glad, you and Wanda get along well don't you?"

"She said I'm her friend"

"Is she yours?"

"I've never been anyone's friend before an-and l've never had one b-but I think she is" giving a light shrug, Bucky's heart pangs at her confession.

"She's a great friend to have, loyal and kind, supportive and fiercely protective. Wanda's more like my sister really" He sees her smiling and he loves seeing the way her dimple dips in.

Noticing they had arrived he pulls up and gets out the car before she could, opening her door he smiles.

"Welcome Mr Barnes, I'll have the store cleared out immediately" the manager spoke quickly before dashing away.

And immediately it was, within a few minutes the whole store was empty aside from Bucky, Theo and the manager.

"Get whatever you like, if you need help Ria will help okay?" Bucky asked as he notices Theo not moving.

Nodding and moving a price tag on a shirt that looked similar to that of Wanda's had her gasping at the price moving along her palms started to sweat, the prices of the clothing making her heart beat unevenly. It didn't help that she could feel Bucky's eyes on her.

She couldn't understand why he was doing this for her not since she had told him about asking her father to let them divorce and let one of his daughters marry him instead and especially not with what happened the night before, she pissed herself in front of him and now he was taking her shopping.

It didn't make sense.

"Theo? Is everything okay?" Bucky's soft voice startled her.

Making her way over to where he stood she lowered her head and whispered "everything is really expensive sir"

"Don't worry about money, have you seen something you like?" though she liked the top that reminded her of her new found friend she shook her head.

"We can go somewhere else if you like?" he tries again.

Nodding she looked up and out of the window, across the street a little ways down there was a store and from what she could see the sign said "Thrift Store" and a huge red sign saying sale was hanging in the window.

Looking back at Bucky her breath stuttered in surprise at the fact he was already staring at her.

"Ca-can we go there, please?" pointing at the store Bucky's blue eyes followed her arm as she pointed.

"A-are you sure?" nodding at his question "O-okay" a thrift store he scoffed in his head. Saying his goodbyes to the manager he opened the door for Theo.

Once they had entered the store the owner had forced all the customers out in hopes to please the Mob boss.

"Anything catching your eye?"

"N-not sure"

He watches as she glides around the store, watching as her eyes light up before picking out an item then moving on to the next. Bucky smiles softly at her when she lifts her head up eyes darting around until she lands on him, giving him a shy smile her head goes back down as she continues her hunt.

"I-I like these sir"

"They look good, would you like me to hold them as you continue to look?"

Shaking her head softly "I'm done sir"

"Theo there's only two pairs of trousers and a shirt here" he says as he looks at the very small pile of clothing in her hands.

"That's a-all I'm allowed"

"No sweetheart, you need to fill your wardrobe up. It's okay to get more, I saw you pick up lots of clothing that had you smiling"

"I only need two pairs of trousers and a shirt..."

"Not to fill a wardrobe up. Pass me those and let's get you some more, okay"

Handing him the items she trailed behind him like a lost puppy as he seem to have memorised her previous movements. Soon enough the owner had to come over and take the clothes out of Bucky's hands and placed them on the counter.

"J-James this is too much"

"Nonsense, is there anything catching your eye?"

"N-no"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes sir"

As they moved over to the counter where two huge piles awaited them there was two things that caught Bucky's eyes, one of them being something that he watched Theo touch delicately - a rugged brown bear.

The other was a jacket that had cross stitched patches on the elbows and breast pocket, though he still didn't know his wife the jacket screamed Theo, so when she wasn't looking he picked both items up and handed it to the owner.

Though he didn't bat an eye at the total he heard Theo inhale sharply.

Theo tried desperately to take the bags from Bucky's hands he shook his head, instead he gave her his car keys and asked her to get the door.

"I'll get Martha to wash all your new clothes for you when she's back tomorrow" Bucky says as he put the bags down in the foyer.

"I-I can do it"

"Nope don't worry, would you like me to order you some food?"

"Why?"

"Aren't you hungry?"

"No why are you doing this?"

"I'm not following..."

"Why are you being nice to me? I told you yesterday that l asked my father to let us divorce"

"I sadly remember that, can I ask why you did it?"

"So you can marry one of my father's daughters"

"I already married one"

"No you married his bastard"

Furrowing his eyebrows he sighed, he knew she was the product of her father's affair but truthfully it didn't matter to him. Bucky truly believed he could find happiness with Theo if only given the chance. Turning his back to her he pinched the bridge of his nose trying to contain the emotions swirling around his heart "I don't care about that Theo"

She stands there surveying his movements when she remembered Eliza's words from the day before she swallowed thickly as her stomach churned at what she was about to do.

"Well y-you might change your mind now" she whispers just loud enough for him to hear.

"Wha-Jesus Christ-Theo-what... wha-" his stomach drops along with his heart when he turns around and sees Theo standing before him in only her bra and underwear.

The angry scars that are on her stomach makes his nose flare in anger, the huge scar that Wanda had mentioned was bigger than he thought. The small circled scars Bucky knew for a fact were from cigarette burns.

"Let's have sex" she whispers once again, the urge to cover herself up and run away itches her insides.

"N-n-no put your clothes back on"

"It's okay I just have to lay right here and take it sir, don't worry about hurting me the others don't" the last three words were barely above a whisper, slightly hoping he didn't hear her confession but sadly he had.

"Put your clothes back on" he repeated however this time in more of a demanding tone.

"Now that you've seen the filth that is my body you can now ask my father to divorce me, he'll say yes to you"

"Fuck sake Theo put your clothes back on!"

"It-it makes you sick doesn't it"

"Yes" he answers without missing a beat. Moving closer to her he bends down to pick her shirt up he hands it to her "But not for the reason you think, please sweetheart put your clothes back on and me and you are going to talk"

Feeling like the most stupidest of people thinking, wishing Bucky would of done what Eliza had told her how he would react. It confused her why he didn't either run away or dragged her out of his house.

"Are you dressed?" Bucky asks with his back to her.

"Ye-yes"

Turning back around his eyes found hers, he motioned for her to go and sit on the couch "I need you to be honest with me Theo, how did you get these scars?"

Hesitating for a few minutes Bucky sat patiently as she gathered her thoughts, as she opened her mouth to finally confess she slams her lips shut as a loud ringing coming from Bucky's phone pierces through the silence.

"God sake, give me a second sweetheart. Hello?"

She couldn't hear what was being said on the other end of the line but the way Bucky's face dropped and paled she knew it wasn't good.

"We'll be right there." Standing up he handed her Wanda's coat that she had let her borrow the day earlier before putting his on.

"We need to go, come on" his voice wobbled enough to let her know it was serious and for her to comply.

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