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lauraneedstochill · 6 months ago

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if I see one more post about Aegon “bullying Aemond his entire life”, I will go fucking ballistic, I swear to g—

scratch that, I will actually go ballistic right now. this is the “Aegon doesn’t deserve such a shitty treatment” club and I’m the self-proclaimed CEO. we are about to do some analyzing and reading so BUCKLE UP.

gonna make one thing clear first — Aemond was bullied when he was a child. no one denies that, no excuses can be made for that. I’d only like to note that there wasn’t only one bully. here’s a quick reminder:

now that we successfully counted to three, let’s look over Aegon’s other horrible crimes relationship with Aemond throughout the years.

📍 the night Aemond lost his eye (S1EP7), Rhaenyra suggests he should be “sharply questioned” (she means tortured) so they can learn who told him that her sons were bastards. Viserys, in his perpetual denial, angrily asks Aemond “who spoke these lies” to which he replies that it was Aegon. it is clear that Aemond does that to deflect suspicion from their mother but his words come as a surprise to Aegon.

he’s in a tough spot — Viserys demands the answers “as their king”, not their father (to signify his authority and pressure them into telling the truth). and Alicent screamed in Aegon’s face and slapped him just a minute ago, so he may be less eager to defend her. he can easily lie and say that he overheard some maids gossiping or that he can’t remember where the rumor came from. instead, it takes Aegon about 5 seconds to back Aemond up.

📍 we didn’t get many scenes with young Aegon and Aemond in general, but here’s a short bit people keep overlooking: when Harwin and Criston start fighting, Aemond and Aegon instantly gravitate toward each other. and moreover, Aegon puts a hand over Aemond’s back (which to me is either a protective or a comforting gesture). what a horrible brother, truly.

📍 next we see them all grown up before dinner in S1EP8. I think it’s safe to assume that if Aegon has been bullying Aemond all these years, Aemond wouldn’t want to spend a second in his company. he’s seated between Helaena and Otto, both of whom are dear to him, so Aemond can stay at the table and chat with them. and YET, not only does Aemond voluntarily talks to Aegon, but their conversation seems friendly (you can barely hear it in the show so here’s the enhanced audio). Aemond makes a joke about Aegon’s drinking habits — Aegon quips back — and then, what a shocker! Aemond starts venting his frustrations to Aegon (“Even when the noose is so tight, they expect us to break bread”). nothing would’ve stopped him from venting to Otto but Aemond stays with Aegon. he wouldn’t have done that if there hadn’t been some level of trust between them. he wouldn’t have done that if he hated Aegon’s guts.

📍 at dinner, when Aegon pisses Jace off and the brunet springs to his feet, Aemond stands up too, which forces Jace to act as if nothing happened and come up with a toast. Aegon watches him with a shit-eating grin on his face. it’s the face that screams “I know you won’t dare to act up in front of my brother and my brother has my back”.

when Aemond makes a toast and calls Rhaenyra’s sons “strong”, Aegon raises a cup to that. he can sit this one out — Aemond has his personal vendetta against the boys, and it would be safer for Aegon not to meddle. but what does he do instead? when Luke gets up from the table (clearly intending to go to Aemond), Aegon instantly stands up, comes up to Luke and not just stops him but slams his face into the table right in front of Rhaenyra without thinking twice. and it doesn’t look like Aegon is just messing with him — no, it looks like he wanted to do that for a while. like Aegon finally got his chance to stand up for his brother too. AND he also stops Baela from joining the fight.

📍 S1EP9 is when we get a glimpse of Aemond’s ambitions: he deems himself better than Aegon, he thinks he deserves to be king. but once he finds Aegon and they get into a fight, it turns out that Aegon knows that Aemond is a better choice. he doesn’t want to fight him, he begs Aemond to let him go. and Aemond can do that — Criston has his back to them, so Aemond could’ve pretended that Aegon managed to break free. and even once they caught Aegon, I have no doubt that Aemond could’ve helped him escape. but it seems that, despite his displeasure, Aemond values his family the most. he can’t betray his mother’s trust, and he knows Aegon is the first in line to the throne. Aemond envies him, yes, he may even hate him because of that. but he values his family the most.

📍 as @florisbaratheons noted, during the coronation scene, when Aegon glances at his family, Aemond looks right at him and gives that tiny nod that says “I may hate this and think I am better for the job as king. But I’ve got your back.” I like that Aemond is the one who keeps eye contact in that scene. He could’ve turned away to signal his dissatisfaction with the situation, there wouldn’t have been any consequences for that. But he didn’t.

📍 what I find interesting about S1EP10 is the beginning of Aemond’s dialogue with Luke. that’s the boy Aemond wished to get back at for years and yet, he starts by saying “Did you think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother’s throne at no cost?”. Aemond could’ve skipped that part — imagine him saying smth along the lines of “Wait, Lord Strong! Don’t you think you and I have other matters to discuss?” (to which Luke answers that he doesn’t want to fight and the conversation goes on). instead, Aemond makes a point to remind Luke: my brother is the king, and I came here on his behalf. you can argue that Aemond doesn’t do it for Aegon specifically but for his family in general. but Aegon is a part of the family, and S1 Aemond has his priorities straight.

📍 as much as I hate comparing the show and the book (these are two different things and should be viewed as such), I’d like to remind you that Aegon was the only one who stood by Aemond’s side after Luke’s death. I wonder why we didn’t get that scene… I guess it’s because it would be kinda hard to call Aegon “the main bully” after he literally throws Aemond a feast. but we do get to see Aegon supporting his brother: in S2EP1 he welcomes Aemond at the small council meeting despite his mother’s protests (“Aemond is my closest blood and my best sword”). and he trusts Aemond wholeheartedly, that much is obvious.

📍 let’s get to the most controversial part — the brothel scene in S2EP3: some people believe Aegon is being a bully at that moment. those people seem to forget one little detail:

it’s been only a few days after the death of Aegon’s son whose murder was a direct result of Aemond’s ruthless actions. does Aemond ever address it? does he express his condolences? does he mayhaps help to catch the killers, being the skilled fighter that he is? the answer is NO.

I do think Aegon’s joke was cruel (I wrote a whole post about it) but that’s all it ever was — a JOKE. the humiliation comes not from the things he says but from the fact that Aemond is found in a vulnerable position and surrounded by a group of strangers while his brother laughs at him. TGC explained it best:

I also love @notbloodraven’s take on that scene:

Aegon lashing out so cruelly at Aemond seems to be an effort in making Aemond feel as badly as he does and blaming him for Jaehaerys without actually saying the words.

would this be the right way to act? no. but there’s no right way to grieve and to cope with the loss — and HIS SON WAS BEHEADED so maybe take 1% of the sympathy you show your favorite character(s) and cut Aegon some slack.

+ other things worth talking about:

📍 @bietrofastimoff23 analyzed S2EP3 beautifully and I can’t help but mention the scene that happens before Aegon goes to the brothel. it’s the moment when Larys suggests that Alicent and Aemond are plotting against Aegon. he isn’t surprised by the idea that his mother can do that — but the second his brother is mentioned, Aegon’s face falls and he shakes his head no. because there is no way Aemond would ever do that to him. and instead of asking for any proof, he asks Larys “who spreads these lies?” and then commands him to “tend to them.” Aegon can ask him to spy on Aemond, to find any dirt on him, find any weaknesses he can use — he does not.

📍 it turns out to be true — Aemond was plotting behind his brother’s back. which is treason btw (I don’t think Criston intended to keep things from Aegon — he probably believed that Aemond would let Aegon in on their plan). and Aegon does have the power to remind Aemond of his place — he can throw him off the council with a snap of his fingers, he can take offense at Aemond’s attempt to publicly humiliate him (their conversation in High Valyrian — Ewan himself calls it a “public execution”). but that’s not what happens: as TGC phrased it, Aemond’s betrayal “breaks a bit of Aegon’s heart off”. an actual bully would’ve immediately pushed back, but Aegon silently sits down and doesn’t argue, he’s so defeated he can’t utter a word. he has the means to be a bully but he doesn’t contemplate it for a second.

📍 I don’t want to talk about S2EP6 because it makes me sick but I will reiterate one thing: never ONCE Aegon made fun of Aemond’s disability or tried to cause him any physical harm. just want to point that out.

there is no moral to this story, I guess. if you managed to read till the very end, thank you. if you still hate Aegon, that’s your opinion and you are allowed to have one — but please, for the love of god, just stop making shit up. no, Aemond was NOT bullied as an adult, absolutely nothing suggests that he was. Aegon was naive to blindly trust him and it backfired on him, that’s the actual story. and if you are so eager to hold Aegon accountable for his mistakes, maybe it’s time for Aemond to take responsibility for his actions too.

+ some of my favorite critical posts about Aegon and Aemond: x, x, x, x, x, x, x, x.

P.S. I will not argue with anyone so please don’t waste your time — I consider all my arguments solid and that’s enough for me. if you are thinking of sending me anon hate, pls go take a walk instead, it will do you more good. 🌿

#aegon ii targaryen #sorry if I sound passive-aggressive guys (I totally am)#I am just so fed up with barbecue jokes and people mocking Aegon’s suffering for no fcking reason #I log on to this hellsite and 90% of the fandom is suddenly like that #so I had to make this post simply for myself (and maybe for 3 other people lol)#to think that people made excuses for Luke who MAIMED Aemond for life and then dared to laugh in his face #but when it comes to Aegon everyone is nitpicking his every move without ever trying to take his feelings into consideration #aegond #aemond targaryen #hotd critical #hotd S2 #hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #aegon the second #laura rambles #the greens

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hauntedfictionland · 2 months ago

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❝a storm to remember❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: As the eldest daughter of Rhaenyra and the heir to the iron throne, you are sent to stormlands as your brother to Winterfell, to create allies when you are met with him. Aemond Targaryen, your childhood enemy.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Mentions of violence and threats, kissing, childhood friends to enemies to lovers trope, minor injuries and blood.

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: He is my guilty pleasure, man who serves face while doing the shittiest things ever aka killing. This is my first Aemond fic ever, so I hope it's not too bad, and I would love writing advices or tips in my asks or messages, so feel free to send any.

The winds were soothing, although getting heavier as Stormlands grew closer. Your one hand on the rope, and the other touching along your dragon's raspy and rather itchy skin. You sighed, as the thought of having to negotiate with Borris Baratheon, who didn't hold a single regard for your mother or any woman for that matter.

You remember your mother's words; no fighting. No bloodshed. It had made you feel strange, as though there could be a need for it. You bit your lip as the dark castle came into view, with dark clouds forming already. You did not have a good feeling about this. But you couldn't disappoint your mother either, as the heir no less. You had to fight for your birthright, which Aegon took.

A strain coming to your head at the tactics of your dragon, who wanted to fly into circles as you had taught her. She wanted to have fun, not knowing this might be the most crucial occasion of your life. When you tried calling out to her, telling her to get down to some place where you could land, she refused. She was being erratic. With a few attempts at pulling the rope, she finally complied.

“Lykiri, Tessarion.” you say, as your dragon flies lower to the ground, to make a decent landing. You smiled as she grunted, in some annoyance. She always was stubborn, and it took some time to command her.

You wondered how much time it would take Jace to reach Winterfell, a part of you was envious. You wanted to be the one to see the North, yet he was the one who got to truly see it. ‘Borros was harder to convince’, as your mother said, how she needed someone with experience in that area. How it was your job as the eldest. Sometimes you felt it was a burden rather than a privilege, being heir to the iron throne. You don't know if you even deserve it, considering who your father is; your blood father. Laenor will always be your only father to you, the one who taught you how to sit on a dragon, or the great sea snake stories.

Hate, was what you used to feel when those rumours started reaching your ears. Of your parentage. Of your mother's king's guard, ser Harwin Strong. You did whatever you could to get away from those, from him. You didn't like it, he acted much closer to your mother than a mere guard should. And jace and luke being young, didn't see it as a problem. Even looked up to him. But you didn't. You felt so humiliated, that such low born could be your father, you—the heir, you, ser Laenor's true born daughter, as you tried convincing yourself again and again.

You didn't want to be a mutt, a bastard.

Harwin Strong tried connecting with you on many levels, but you denied all of them. You didn't even want to be near him, let alone speak with him. Flaunting your power and acting very rudely whenever he wanted to make conversation. You still remember the sadness in his eyes, as you told your king's guard to take him out of your sight. A filth, you called him. All out of insecurity.

That was the last time you saw him.

And now, all you had was Jacaerys's fond memories of him, nothing more. You wonder if you had cared to hear him out even once, what would he have said?

Shaking off the terrifying thought, you open your locks on the belt on your waist, slowly getting down. The storm had prevailed, with rain pouring down your black and red polish coat. You squint your eyes, trying to see better amidst the heavy rainfall. Tessarion let out a wail of joy, she loved rain. Given her so very nickname, the blue queen. After her blue scales and orange wings. That's when you heard a growl, a heavy one. That could only come out of a large dragon.

Your eyes widened, seeing the sight of that dragon.

Vhagar.

Which could only mean he was here.

“A letter from the queen.” you say, hesitantly as still processing the fact who you were to face very soon. The men guarding the castle nodded, letting you in. It felt like a dark cloud over you, as you entered. The black walls and steel throne, with Lord Borros sitting quite comfortably. You knew he was there, swiftly standing with a smirk, you didn't even want to face him.

“Princess Y/N Velaryon” one of the guards announced, “daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

You gulp, “Lord Borros, I have brought you a message.” you make sure to add, “from the queen.” he raises his eyebrows, “Yet earlier this day I received an envoy from the king. Which is it, king or queen?”

Your skin shivered as you felt Aemond's eyes constantly on you—not once did his gaze move. You remember when there was a time, a good time, in childhood, when Aemond was your closest companion. You both were around the same age, both quiet, wise, and mature. And you both lacked a dragon at the age all Targaryen children have one. You used to always defend him against the teasing of Aegon and your siblings, scolding Jace and Luke whenever they hurt Aemond's feelings. You remember how you pushed a hair out of Aemond's eyes, after the pig prank, kissing his cheek gently, promising him that he won't go without a dragon in his lifetime. How you had seen that for him.

Alas, after the driftmark incident, you didn't know who to defend, your brothers, or his taken eye. All you knew was that after you had moved to dragonstone, all talked bad of him, and with time, you started believing them.

“The house of the dragon doesn't seem to know who rules it.” Lord Borros sneered mockingly, as you clenched your fists. This was not at all how you planned it. “What's your mother's message, girl?”

You handed the envoy to one of his guards wordlessly, as Lord Borros—unable to read, called for his Mastor. Aemond Targaryen, wasn't a person you once remembered, you once loved. In a way your family would never approve. And you fear you still hold those feelings after all this time. You wonder what your mother would say, your brothers? if they knew the ways of your heart.

“Remind me? of my father's oath?” he says, sounding very offended.

At the corner of your eye, you could see Aemond smirking, as if he already won the bid. It infuriated you, as your hands curled up around your sword tightly.

“King Aegon at least came with an offer! my swords and banners for a marriage pact.” he continues, as you close your eyes in contrast to stop Aemond's winning stare on you, “now if I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will your brothers marry?”

Before you could answer, he speaks again, “—or which one of my sons will you marry?”

Your mouth gaped, as his voice sounded so excited and thrilled, as if he was already imagining having Targaryen grand children. Especially when they could be potentially heirs to the iron throne. You grimaced, a picture of his sons, same as him, fat, bearded and a wild lust, came into your mind and it disgusted you. Aemond looked surprised, straying away from his smirking face. His lips had fallen down to a glare, fist tightening.

You cleared your throat, “My brothers are not available to marry my lord, they're already betrothed to another.”

He nodded as if uninterested, looking for a different answer. Eager to know about you. His head peaked forward in question, a one you didn't want to answer; whether you'll bore his sons children or not. You were just seventeen, and even if westeros considered that to be a grown woman—you were still a young girl. And believed to be as well.

“As for me” you took a breath, “I will have to discuss it with the queen. She shall consider your offer.”

“Hmm” you heard Aemond's voice, glancing at him just for a second. This was wrong, this was so wrong. Not at all how you envisioned. He had to ruin everything, didn't he? now you had to go home with a rejection, while Jace would come with more support of armies.

Everything was a mess.

“So you come with empty hands?” Borros says, angered. You sighed, ready to mount back on your dragon and fly the rest of the way in self pity. “Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the lord of storm's end is not some dog that she can whistle up in need to set against her foes.”

Your jaw clenches, in disappointment “I shall take your answer to the queen, my lord.”

This was indeed, a failure. You failed to prove as the heir to the iron throne that you were capable. Especially because you are a girl. You needed to show it, to your mother and to everyone else, that you can take on that responsibility as well as any king. All because of him. It was his fault, and he sure looked proud. You hated this, hated his cunning smile, his swift posture, his one purple eye and oh, him. Everything you hoped you could achieve, he destroyed it for you.

He sure hated you; that was evident.

“Wait”

You hear Aemond, as you halt in your steps while turning back to the gates, “My lady strong.”

Your eyes widen, “What did you say?” he knew it, how to get in your skin. The dinner, with insults about your heritage, calling your brothers strong that resulted in a fight. It was exhausting, what did he want now? after all this time.

“You heard me.” he tilts his head, “did you really think, you could fly around the realm, trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?”

A bitter laugh escapes your lips, which makes him furrow his eyebrows. “Your brother's throne? or rather, Aegon the usurper's?”

“I would mind my tongue if I were you, my lady.”

You bit your lip, his audacity, after all he had done, to remind you of your place. As if he ranked higher than you? A beat passed by, tension thick in the air. Neither of you were looking at each other, waiting for the other to make the move. As if it was a chess board, with the winner taking all. A verbal battle. Aemond finally broke the silence.

“So you're here to usurp my brother's throne then?” he spoke with a calming chill, seeing as your eyes turned into anger, “Traitors.” he mumbled in his breath.

You control every urge to grab his collar and hit him across his face, “I am in haste. Is there something you want from me, prince Aemond?”

His head lies low and a dangerous glint comes in his eyes. You gulped, unknowing where he was about to go with this. He had changed ever since Luke had done it. Taken his eye. Somewhere, you didn't blame him. It was true that none of your brothers ever got punished for what happened, a result of your mother being the obviously favoured child. He was angry, at Luke—at you, that nothing happened. Everything was complicated; but, not unsalvagable. After you returned to king's landing, you tried everything to be nice with Aemond, to be civil, for the least. Alas, he denied all of them.

“Yes, there is something I want.” he looks up, eyes cold, “something that was stolen from me not long ago.”

A hitch escapes your lips, “Aemond—”

“You know..” he cuts you off, stepping a little forward towards your direction, “I always wished for your brother to know, what it feels like, to experience such a pain. To have your eye carved out by Valaryan steel, hmm. Unfortunately, now that he isn't here, I'll have to make him learn some other way. What it feels to have an eye cut out, or rather, a loved one's eye cut out.”

There was just the slightest bit of emotion flash in his eyes, pool of stars, in agony yet so beautiful. Your breathing becomes heavy, as you start to fear for your life. Your hands slowly pulled out your sword.

“I will not fight you.”

You intended to sound harsh, but your voice came out more of a tremble. Aemond and your relationship had gone down the drain, you knew that. Yet, was he really willing and capable of wanting to cripple you? had he started to hold such hatred for you? did he truly forget all the best memories he and you made together. He was acting like you were a stranger to him, that he did not care for your being. Even the mere thought of that sends a bitter taste in your mouth.

“Fight would be little challenge.” his voice is hoarse and cold, “No. I want you to put out your eye.”

A small gasp leaves your mouth when he pulls out his eye patch, a blue emerald stone in the place of his lost eye. He looked so very, beautiful, you thought. Majestic and soft. As even after such an attack on his face, he was born to look gorgeous, no matter what. For a moment you became oblivious to what he was demanding, staring in a trance like state. He was the epitome of Targaryen beauty, tall and long haired, pale skin with features that could start wars between great houses. Your heart fluttered and your throat became dry, unable to form any kind of answer. Aemond did not seem to notice, as he only held a sour and blank look in his eyes.

You only snapped back when he spoke again, “As a payment for mine.”

“No, I will not.” your voice is low, but clearly he heard it since something changed in his expression. He was angry. An emotion he hardly showed ever since the accident.

“Then you are a coward as well as a traitor.”

“You can't be serious ab—”

“Give me your eye!” he shouts all of a sudden and starts to walk towards you with rage, “or I will take it!”

You frantically back away, pulling out your sword on impulse. The guards coming in to shield you, as lord Borros stands up, saying something about wanting to have no such ‘bloodshed’ beneath his roof. You barely hear him over your own beating heart, fear taking over every one of your survival instincts. He orders for you to be escorted back to your dragon, as Aemond watches you exit the doomed castle. The rain has worsened, your clothes, that had been a little dried up, now went back to being wet again. You push your hair out of your eyes, raising a hand to itch your neck. Your hair was long, so it irritated your skin whenever they were soaked with rain or water.

But all you could think about was what had happened inside, his eyes, his face, all his hatred for you. Did he really want to send you harm? or was he faking? your gaze turned to the side, expecting the giant green beast yet, Vhagar was nowhere to be seen. You started to panic, if Aemond had already flown away, it could only mean two possibilities. He went back to king's landing, or he was awaiting to do something much worse. The latter scared you.

You walked towards Tessarion, her dark and orange eyes bored into your figure, wings flapping in excitement. You sigh, slowly getting on top of her and adjusting your straps.

“Sōvēs, Tessarion.”

She hears your command and swiftly takes out into the sky. She was futile and fast, if you were careful enough, you both would be able to make it to dragonstone with no harm done. Besides, rain, was her element of sheer power. You squint your eyes, rubbing water out of them as a few minutes had passed by, the storm nowhere to be stopping anytime soon. All you could hear was the flapping of her wings and the heavy rainfall that held out the dark clouds. It didn't matter anymore of Lord Borros's rejection, he couldn't be any more reliable than he already is. Besides, if you could reach your home safely, without the presence of a one eyed prince, that would be more than victory enough.

However wrong had the universe been out there to prove you.

As you were about to loosen your tight ropes, with a newfound relief—a snarl disrupts you. You looked back to see the giant mouth of the big monster in the name of a dragon, coming up towards you. Instantly you yelped, pulling the ropes sideways to avoid getting eaten. You can hear Aemond's malicious laughs, he was enjoying this. You let out a cry for help, struggling to keep hold of your now panicked dragon, as Vhagar flew around you, mouth wide open.

The rain was making it quite difficult to see, as Aemond chased you down.

Vhagar's giant claws kept trying to cut you and Tessarion, as Aemond began to mumble things in high valaryan, something you could not hear due to your panic and wanting to steer away from him and his beast. You tugged on the leash, pulling her away to the left. You knew Vhagar had a hard time with turning around, and it would buy you some time. His laugh, so cruel and emotionless, he was out to kill you. That was unquestionable. You had to get away from them, instead of processing how your childhood best friend, and the man you loved, could become the reason for your death.

A cannon appeared in your sight, and you quickly flew into the narrow path in between it. Aemond could only follow you from the above, waiting for you to come out.

“Jemēla gēlȳni enkā! Taobi!” You hear him shout, an unexpected emotion and anger in his voice. You owe a debt? No, you didn't. You did not take his eye, or tease and bully him all those years ago. In fact, you were the one who defended him. And he thinks you are the reason for his lost eye?

“For the god's sake stop this Aemond!” you shout, a whimper coming out of you. Tears running down, “please.”

Somehow, at that Aemond's demeanor softened. It looked like he was over playing with you. But your dragon wasn't done with him, instead, Tessarion disobeyed your own commands, flew out the cannon and let out a massive fire at Vhagar's face. Something that didn't do much damage. You cursed, as she shrieked in pain when you harshened the ropes to make her listen. Aemond was going through the same situation, yelling out every command in high valaryan to stop, but his dragon was angered. That's when you were remembered of your grandfather's words, the idea that we control the dragons, is an illusion.

“No Vhagar! No!” was the last thing you heard from him, before his dragon grabbed your coat with its claws, losing the balance off the seat, you screamed as you fell off. The height was above the clouds, and in nowhere will you be to survive.

Until the ocean hit your body, and you blacked out.

Rain droplets on your eyes irritated you, as you could still feel it was raining. Not as hard as before, but still. Slowly blinking, you open your eyes. You found yourself laying on top of some concrete—more over rocks and tiny stones.

A sharp pain hits you, as you realise you were having a hard time getting up.

“Ouch!” you hiss, as blood comes out of your forehead and possibly from your ribcage. With minor cuts and bruises on the tip of your fingers and lips. You were too focused on your injuries, without noticing the very familiar presence by your side. “Don't get up, or it will make whatever injuries you have received worse.”

You gasp as his voice speaks out, swiftly turning and locking your eyes with the very man who was at fault for you being here in the first place. Aemond stood a few feet away, with Vhagar a little further up. An alarm went inside you, what was he doing here? was he here to finish what he started? give you a slow and painful death? and moreover, where was your dragon?

“T—Tessarion?” you manage to whisper, the pain worsening at that. Frantically looking around. Aemond reassured, “That bundle of blue is fine, probably lurking around and searching for you.”

He tries to get closer to you, to which you quickly shift away, wincing in pain at the rocks grazing your bloodied back. “Get the fuck away from me!” you say, as you pull out your sword. Hands shakily holding it.

His eyes weakened, as if a guilt was forming in his throat. His lips parted, but nothing came out. You heard your dragon's roars, she was close somewhere. You bit your lip to suppress the pain, refusing to cry in front of him. The rain didn't leave mercy on you, as it continued to fall. You were soaked, both from the storm and possible blood by scars and fractures. If you didn't get help, you could die in a very slow way, taking around seven to nine days. Perhaps faster by starvation or dehydration—or by his very sword. You didn't know which was worse.

“Y/N..” Aemond breathes out, “I—I didn't intend to cause this.”

That was the first time in years, he spoke your name. Only your name, no titles or formality. It was raw. You didn't answer, not knowing what to make of the whole ordeal. At first he was chasing you around like a mad man, and the next minute he was apologizing for almost killing you. You tried getting back up your feet, but winced at the sheer pain that came with it.

“Let me help you or—”

“No!” you immediately shake your head, pointing your sword further towards him.

In no world will you weaken your guard, let him get close to your body only for him to deceive you and strangle you to death. Or cut your throat with that small knife of his. You didn't know why he hadn't done that already? you were blacked out for almost ten minutes, he could have easily killed you with no difficulty. What did he even want? if not to kill you then why did he do all this?

“Y/N, let me help. Falling into the ocean at such speed is the same as falling in concrete ground. If not worse.”

“You tried to kill me! why would I ever trust you?”

He falls silent at that. Unexpectedly so. You bit your lip, struggling to keep up the strong facade with all the pain masking behind it. You didn't know how much longer you would be able to keep your sword pointed at him. Your dragon is far away and no one is here to possibly protect you against Aemond and his giant beast.

“I didn't want to kill you,” he says, his voice faltering from the rain that had now soaked his entire clothes and hair, “Only scare you.”

“Well you did more than that” you bite back, a bitterness in your tone. He scoffs, “Maybe, if your young and wild dragon hadn't leashed fire on mine, this wouldn't have happened.”

A baffled scoff of your own comes out of you, in disbelief, “Oh so this is—this is my fault?”

“Precisely.”

“Fuck you!” you spat, your throat burning up at the yell. Your condition was getting worse by the minute, and Aemond noticed that. He inhaled a deep breath, preparing himself before matching up to you. You yelped as he reached over you, pulling your arms in order to get you up, but struggling as you put up a fight. You wince at the pain of getting on your feet, eventually giving up as he held on to you firmly, his hands of your waist.

You sigh, so tired like all the blood and mass from your body was being drained. You feel his eyes on you, worried as his breath was ragged. If you weren't on the brink of death, you might have realised you liked this feeling. But that moment is gone as soon as it came, you push Aemond away, roughly. This is your enemy. Not your protector.

“Y/N—”

“What do you want?!” you interrupted him, shouting amidst the heavy rainfall soaking both your breaths. “You threaten me, almost kill me, and then help me when it was you who put me in this position in the first place. I don't understand why you are here if you don't want to kill me! what other reason is there for you to do what you have done ever since I landed here?”

Aemond becomes silent, any words he could speak refused to come out. He looks at you hard, before taking his eyes off you, his jaw clenched. You were frustrated now, you wanted the answer. You needed it. He can't just ignore you after all this.

“Tell me. Why?” you inquire, again. When he doesn't answer, you furiously walk towards him, pushing his chest as he stumbles back a bit. “Why—”

“Because you didn't do anything!” he finally breaks, his voice was surprisingly inflamed with a touch of vulnerability.

You blink your eyes, taken aback, “what?”

“You...” Aemond breathes, willing himself to say those words he never wanted to say, jaw clenching, “You were my friend. My dearest one. Yet, when your brother took my eye and I was the one condemned for it, you didn't say anything. You just stood there, in pure silence. I—”

He stops himself, taking a deep breath, “I thought you would always defend me.”

You were speechless. It was true. What he said. You didn't say anything because you didn't know what happened. You weren't there. And being overwhelmed by all the shouting and bruises on your little brothers faces, you didn't know what to think. But you believed your mother. You couldn't defend yourself, he was saying the truth. You didn't have his back and that's what broke what the two of you shared. You went numb to the pain you had, or the seemingly hatred you had for him. This, this was the Aemond you remember. And you weren't about to let him go.

“I'm sorry.” you say, “I'm sorry, okay?”

But it wasn't enough. You knew it wasn't when his face fell, shaking his head and turning around to walk away from you and this. You weren't about to let that happen. “Aemond!” you called out to him, but he didn't stop. The pain was excruciating, but you needed to make this right. “Aemond!” when he doesn't listen, you take all the best strength you had left and catch up to him, grabbing his shoulder and turning him around.

“Aemond I'm sorry!” you yell, wanting him to feel how much guilt you felt, “But I'm in a lot of pain here, okay? it feels like my body is cut by a thousand bolts of lightning, I can't even feel my back and my throat is burning. But still, I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I did not understand what was happening—we were both children for god's sake! but even then, if I hurt you, which evidently now that I have I mean we wouldn't be in this situation if I hadn't, I'm so sorry.”

You don't know if you made it better or worse looking at the stoic expression on his face. But you had tried. The rain had soaked all his emotions, but even then you could see just the little bit of stars in his pupils you once saw as kids. You cross your arms, feeling the cold embrace you as you shudder in your injuries and pain. He gulped, unknowingly laying his head low to avoid looking in your eyes.

“I apologize, for this. For everything. I lost my temper today. It won't happen again.”

Your eyes soften at his words, as if a wall had risen between you two again. You hated it. You wanted to break it. So you did. In a few fraction of seconds, you didn't realise what you were about to do before you walked closer to him, too close. His breath hitches as your face comes in between his wet hair, his hair touching your cheeks just slightly.

“Y/N—”

He was only able to mumble out these words before your lips were on his. So barely. He inhaled a sharp breath, hands coming up but not knowing where to go. You close your eyes and just for one moment, forget the war, the families, the armies. Just you and him. Before you pull away, Aemond finally found his senses and comes up to cup your cheeks. Kissing you back softly but with an unspoken passion. He was careful not to hurt you.

Your hands find his waist, carefully tugging at the black belts that were wrapped around it. It felt like this was what you both had craved all these years. This. All the fight left out of him the moment you kissed him. Like the sun finally just glanced one look at his star. The one closest to it. You were his sun. And he was your favourite star. You only pull away when the growl of your dragon reaches your ears, Tessarion was here. Just a few rocks away. Your foreheads were touching, and Aemond places a small kiss at your head.

“Get home safe.” he whispers, his thumb tracing down your lips.

You didn't know if you would get a moment like this again. But you were happy. That you finally got to have one taste of heaven. Your heaven. Your Targaryen. Your Aemond.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛!

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im-out-of-it · 17 days ago

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RANT ABOUT SHOW MALEC AND THOMASTAIR AND IT IS LONG AND IM NOT TRYING TO BE HATEFUL BUT ITS THINGS IVE NOTICED OF A PATTERN AND MY BEEF IS MORE WITH CC BEAUSE SHE RUINS EVERYTHING WITH HER OBSESSION WITH HERONDALES AND PUTTING MY FAVS IN THR BACKSEAT

I still have a bunch of TLH content to go through and make stupid opinions about but while I was watching another show, I keep noticing a pattern of when it comes to lgbtq+ couples, that one of the couples is barely their own person like even their intimate scenes don’t get as much attention as to an heterosexual couple. and it made me think of Alastair and Thomas. especially since CC can’t write, Alastair does not get any moments that are just about him. and I notice this happening in the show for Magnus. y’all know I love show Malec and I love the show (for anyone besides CLACE) but why is it that

1. lgbtq+ couples rarely have intimate scenes?

and

2. why is being gay their whole identity?

it makes me absolutely furious that Alastair has literally one fucking pov and it barely covers his rage and his feelings about his deadbeat father. Alastair lost his fucking childhood having to take care of his father and make sure Cordelia has a good life and there’s no mention or appropriation for Alastair pov?

we already know that CC doesn’t care about her POC characters and relationships but it’s just as bad when they’re part of the lgbtq+ community. even Thomas’s stuff gets taken over by James and Cordelia. the whole James and Cordelia shit takes center stage so does matthews addiction, Thomas losing so much in one year, Alastair doesn’t get to process anything, Lucie and Cordelia’s friendship is rushed and they shouldn’t be parabatai, Ari and Anna are also super rushed and it seems they don’t actually communicate their issues- and Grace (who I cannot stand) doesn’t actually process her trauma. nor does Jesse. literally nobody gets to process anything because it has to be the Cordelia and James show. Matthew is made to apologize for feelings he may have had (I just don’t buy their connection) for Cordelia so James can have the girl. I don’t have that much hate for James as compared to jace and Will but that is a terrible fucking parabatai move.

why are all parabatai have one set who goes above and beyond while the other just settles? and worst of all, Kit doesn’t get grieved because once again!!!!!!! guess who has to be center stage? JAMES OBVIOUSLY

and what makes me mad about show Malec is that Magnus doesn’t have many friends after he gets with Alec. he’s hardly with his warlocks and spends most of the time saving jace because he knows what it means to Alec. before Malec get together, Alec is more snarky and calls out people (and he still does after.) while Magnus seems to express himself more in makeup, outfits, and he’s made his warlocks more of a focus. and then once he gets with Alec, the makeup is heavily changed, he spends more of his time helping shadowhunters until the season two finale. where the fuck is Catarina? she’s hardly there for the rest of the two seasons. he’s lost ragnor already but where are his warlock friends? why can’t Alec continue to be sassy and call out people more? why does he let jace use him?

and this has nothing to do with how Matt and Harry portrayed Alec and Magnus. I love them both and they did so much for Malec that we didn’t get in the books and I’m sure this was on the writing side. I’m sure they wanted to keep it as much as the book lore they possibly could but does this make anyone else mad? why do heterosexual couples get to have full on sex scenes but Malec can hardly kiss without 30 seconds????? why can’t Magnus’s feelings about reliving his trauma he more than an episode or however long it was? why does Alec have to pay for so much in the series? why can James and Cordelia have pages and pages of sex scenes (as well as CLACE in the books) but Alastair and Thomas get one page of it while everyone has to listen in to book malec and their arguing.

and my whole problem is with CC. she’s a terrible writer but I also feel that the show could’ve done more with the Malec buildup and actually focusing on Magnus and Alec as characters. Magnus isn’t just Alec’s boyfriend but he’s 800+ warlock who has trauma, who is kind, patient, friendly, who does everything he can for the downworld because that’s his children and family. Alec isn’t just Magnus’s boyfriend but someone who has been pushed around so many times, has toxic friends, who hasn’t felt like himself basically all his life.

I don’t know why I made this rant but I hate seeing my fav lgbtq+ treated badly at times or seeing how heterosexual couples get more page/screen time and get to do whatever while all the problems go to the lgbtq+ characters. and maybe some won’t agree with me and I’m not being hateful about it all. I’m happy with what we got with thomastair and Malec but TLH could’ve been so much better in Alastair’s pov and if the show focused more on Malec and less on CLACE

and I will always be so appreciative of the show for what they did for Malec like y’all have no idea how much I love show Malec and everything we got but so much was left out, ya know? and thomastair was great but Alastair gets left behind and Thomas kind of goes through an Alec thing where James issues become more important than his own. Thomas was arrested and the pov was in James. I’m also just tired of the “I’m angry because I’m gay and that’s my whole thing” or “I’m his boyfriend and that’s all I am identity” or “the heterosexual couple gets more time because we deem them more important than the gays” OR “let the gays have all the issues to prove they can get through anything” not all of these examples pertain to what I’m talking about but these tropes are just as bad as the bury your gays. I want more.

Thomas loses Christopher who is more of a parabatai to him, his sister, almost loses Alexander, plus Alastair all within a year

Alec has to deal with an arranged marriage, the person who is supposed to have his back is betraying him, all the “feelings” he may have had with Jace, the treatment he got from Maryse and Robert, the lying, his brother almost dying, almost losing Izzy, dying almost five times total, losing Magnus twice, all the lies he got from his family and friends, seeing Magnus go through his trauma and feeling at fault all within a year

Alastair has to deal with not having a childhood, losing deadbeat father, his mother having a new baby, feelings for Thomas but not feeling good enough, not able to process any of these emotions, and getting mistreated from Cordelia all within a year

Magnus has to deal with centuries of pain, not having two fathers and a mother because two of them deemed him a monster while the other attempted to show Magnus how powerful he is, watching Alec almost die many times, having to relive his trauma, being hunted by Valentine, downworlders dying and he couldn’t do anything, losing his home, his magic, and then Alec TWICE all within a year

these men go through so much and for fucking what? LEAVE THEM BE

I don’t know, rant over I guess

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divinesolas · 4 months ago

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bubbling thoughts

summary: after your husband goes off without a word you are left to ponder your relationship with him and does he truly love for you when theres another he clearly cares for?

jacaerys velaryon x fem!non targ!reader

c.w: misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst? with a happy ending ofc, oblivious jace, jealous reader, baela and jace are close, nsfw, oral (fem), not proofread

a.n: surprise upload 😁

perm jace taglist ! (open) @cruelworldlana @smurfelle @ireneispunk @hxtd @venmondiese @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jacesvelaryons @earth4angels @itsemohours @valdezthg @cecestea

Four days. that's how long you had gone without seeing him. Like a wisp in the night he had been up and gone by the time you woke up. You had just thought he was busy, maybe he was out training by the water but when you heard the whispers of the council members curious as to where the heir had gone you began to worry. When you took your worries to his mother you assured you he was fine and baela had informed her he was off to the twins.

Baela. He did not inform you where he was going but he told baela? She watches the anger twist on your face and places a comforting hand on yours but can offer you no true words of assurance. You two have been married for two months now, his mother needed the alliance with your family led to you having a very quick marriage barely getting to speak to one another before the big day. Yet none of that seemed to matter as he was the most devoted and loving man you had ever met. You had thought you could never be happier but he did have his flaws of him. He was a bit temperamental, taking things a bit too seriously which you understood seeing his position but there was one you could hardly look past and it was more so your fault than his.

she’s his sister obviously he loves and cares for her but you cant help but feel sickly jealous when he seeks out her company or even so much as speaks about her. If it was anybody else you would have nothing to worry about but he is a Targaryen and you fear it might just be how they are and what they do. You were already on the edge when he could barely sit still during dinner one night cause she had missed it and when he did not return for far too long after going to search for her you did not miss the grin on his face.

You know it is platonic or more so you hope so. he does nothing but shower you will love but this has been nagging at the back of your head and you feel as though you have now snapped. Everyone had taken to avoiding you, you had not even seen baela and are thankful for it knowing you probably wrongfully snap at her. You walk around everywhere with a scowl on your face and you had taken to sleeping in a guest room unable to stomach being in his scent despite how much it keeps you up.

You miss him but you hate him. No you don’t hate him you merely wish for some sort of reassurance from him. anything. The night of the fourth day your eyes shoot open at the sounds of dragon wings flapping in the air and you sit up looking out the window in alarm before your felt your heart ache at the sight of familiar green wings. You flop down back into bed with a quiet huff not interested in going to see him at all closing your eyes and attempt to fall back asleep. He does not deserve to see you. But as you turn back and forth you look up at the ceiling in defeat. you hate how much this is bothering you. if only you just spoke to him it could all be fixed but you worried of what he’ll say. maybe he’ll call you crazy for even thinking such a thing or worse he’ll get defensive over baela and say you’re just jealous of her. it’ll be worse cause you are, you are so sickly jealous of how pretty she is, how head strong she is, un afraid to take risks and put herself in danger and you’re jealous of how close she is to Jacaerys.

You just need to clear your head. Maybe a walk by the beach would be good for you. Yet you find it hard to convince yourself as maybe you could run into him. You decide its worth the risk, if you run into him you could just run away? you had no real clue what you would do or what you would say to him but you just need to get out of this room out of this castle right now. The halls are terribly dark which is perfect for you and with your dark cloak on your back you swiftly make your way down the familiar halls in the hopes of not being seen.

Your dreams are swiftly crushed as you crash into someone as you turn the corner and your heart plummets as you see his face. “My love,” He grins, though you can see the hesitation clearly on his face he still holds your forearms lovingly, “I've missed you, i was looking for you everywhere.” His face plummets when you scoff lightly, turning your head to the ground so you don't have to see his pout. “you were the first person i wanted to see-” “i find that hard to believe.” Your words are sharp as you harshly cut him off and you can feel his grip around you tighten.

When he speaks next there's a sense of urgency and desperation that makes you want to crumble before him. “what happened? i heard you begun sleeping in one of the guest rooms if i have done something-“ “it is nothing now please let me go.” “i refuse to. i refuse to let you walk away from this tell me what has happened i will do anything to remedy it i swear it.”

you snap. “why don’t you go see baela I'm sure she is eager to see you as you are to her.” You rip yourself away from him as your words get weaker on your tongue and by the time you finish it comes out as a meek sound.

You decide the walk was an awful idea no longer interested in being anywhere near his presence you whip back around and make your way back to your room. you hear him call after you and his fast footsteps following quickly after you. “my love please you misunderstand i love you” you attempt to ignore him but his scent and his breathing rings in your ear as you try to act as though he is not there.

“please do not walk away let us speak.” “i do not wish to speak with you Jace please goodnight.” he stops the door from being shut and you have to quickly look away from the broken look on his face. “do not sleep in here please just come back to our room please.” he sounds like he’s on the edge of tears and you cant take it, you walk away from the door to go sit on the bed tossing your cloak somewhere in the room, “please just leave.” he doesn’t and you knew it wouldn’t. closing the door behind him as he swiftly makes his way towards where you sit on the bed.

you expect him to take place next to you but your eyes widen as he drops to his knees in front of you and grabs your hands that had been places in your lap clutching them closely to him. “i do not love baela like that i love baela as a sister.” “you are a Targaryen what comfort does that bring me.” you decide to finally look at him and see the strain on his face and the way his eyes clearly sting over with tears.

His hair is wet just like the rest of his clothes while his cheeks are redder than an apple. you cannot faulter despite how much you want to grip his cheeks and kiss his plush lips you remain firm and simple stare at him. “that is not want i mean, i love her but not like i love you. you are my stars and my moon, my sun and my sky, my life would not exist without you in it. everything i feel for baela is strictly familiar nothing like how i feel for you.” you feel yourself slipping further and further with every word he speaks and you crack at the soft kiss he places on your joined hands. “i was miserable without you these days.”

“then why did you not inform me of your leaving? you told her. i am your wife jacaerys.” you hate the way the tears slip down your face but you cant help it any further, simply aching for some comfort from him. he grabs your face as his own tears slip down his face. “i did not plan to tell anyone my love i swear im sorry im so sorry i simply ran into her on my way out it was unavoidable. i did not mean to make you feel like this and it pains me that ive made you feel like this im so sorry i will never forgive myself.”

You believe him. Your hands go to cup his face and he leans into your palms as you wipe the tears from his face. “i am the only woman you love?” “the only one for the rest of my life. i will love you until my last breath.” he watches as a small grin takes over and feels a small relief wash over him. “then prove it.”

his brows raise mischievously and a grin takes over his face and your eager look. “i will spend everyday proving it, but for now i shall start by making you scream” You barely have anytime to process before his head disappears under your night gown and begins to lick at your growing wetness covered by your underwear. “jace dont tease me.” you feel him lightly bite your inner thigh before he pushes aside the fabric and eagerly begins to lick at your walls with a moan. “fuck ive missed this so much.” That night you can barley count how many times he made you cum on his tongue but it was all worth it to him to see that blissful look on your face and the way you basically passed out after he had finally pulled away from you.

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novaursa · 4 months ago

Note

I have way to many idea so sorry for everything I’m going to send you 👉🏼👈🏼

Aemond x Niece (maybe a Nyra x daemon before her wedding!?)

He’s obsessed with her, she represents everything he want, she’s a perfect Targaryen white hair, purple eyes, huge dragon vermithor or cannibal?

But she’s engaged to Jace and he hate the fact that she is “given” to a bastard. So he tried by all things to make her his, he wish so hard to be found with her in a bad position that they obliged them to get married.

He make sure that Larys Steong see them, he even say to the maester to give her moon tee or medicinal herb for morning sickness ?! Otto find that about the maester and decided to marry them ( daemon and nyra are not ok they say It not real) and aemond took that personally and decided that they will have a child right now 🫣

The Dragon's Mark

- Summary: When Aemond found out about your betrothal to Jacaerys, he knew how all seven hells could not hold him back from taking what was rightfully his.

- Pairing: niece!reader/Aemond Targaryen

- Note: Reader is the firstborn child of Rhaenyra. She had a reader with Daemon before she involved herself with Harwin Strong. Daemon legitimized the reader. For more of my works visit my blog. The list is pinned to the top.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Word count: 4 000+

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff

- A/N: I've changed the thing with a Maester to make it more believable. I hope you don't mind.

Aemond sat across from his mother, Dowager Queen Alicent, and his grandsire, Ser Otto Hightower, in the great hall of the Red Keep. The torchlight cast shadows over their faces, making their expressions harder to read, not that Aemond was paying much attention. Their voices drifted to him as if through a thick fog, muffled and distant. He stared at the tapestry on the wall opposite, its intricate designs of dragons entwined in battle barely registering in his mind. His thoughts were elsewhere, consumed by the image of you.

You, to him, were the embodiment of Valyrian perfection, a true daughter of Old Valyria. Your silver hair fell in soft waves, catching the light like molten silver, and your violet eyes held the depth of the ancient Targaryen bloodline. You are more than a princess; you are power personified, a dragonrider of Vermithor, the mighty bronze beast who had bonded with you when you were but a girl. Aemond could still remember the first time he had seen you astride Vermithor, your small form commanding the great dragon with ease, your expression fierce and unyielding.

Now, you are a woman grown, and in Aemond's eyes, you are perfect. You are the one he deserves, a match that would not only strengthen the bloodline but would also solidify his place in their shared history. He could see it so clearly in his mind: you by his side, the two of you ruling as a power unmatched, with dragons and fire at your command.

The thought of you set a slow burn within him, a mix of admiration and desire. He had always been captivated by your strength, your beauty, and the fire in your spirit that matched his own. You are everything he had ever wanted, everything he needed. A true Targaryen, unmarred by the weaknesses of others. Aemond clenched his jaw, pushing down the surge of emotions that threatened to spill over.

His attention snapped back to the present as his mother's voice cut through his thoughts, sharp and clear.

"...Rhaenyra has decided to marry her daughter to Jacaerys," Alicent said, her tone carefully neutral, but there was a hint of distaste in her eyes.

Aemond's world tilted on its axis, the words crashing over him like a wave. His blood ran cold as the realization settled in. Rhaenyra intended to wed her daughter, you, the one Aemond desired above all others, to that bastard Jacaerys. His hands curled into fists on the table, the knuckles white as the force of his anger rose within him, threatening to consume him whole.

"A match to solidify her claim, no doubt," Otto added, his voice dry and calculated as always. "She seeks to ensure her line continues to hold power, binding her daughter to her eldest son."

Aemond could barely hear them now over the roaring in his ears. The thought of you, bound to Jacaerys, of the union of your bloodlines through a marriage that had nothing to do with honor or strength but everything to do with Rhaenyra's desperate attempt to secure her position—it was unbearable.

His mind raced with images of Jacaerys, the boy who had always stood in his way, who had always been favored despite the question of his parentage, despite his weaknesses. And now, to think that he would have you, the woman Aemond had longed for, the woman who should have been his—!

"Aemond." Alicent's voice broke through his fury, pulling his gaze to her. She looked at him with concern, as if sensing the turmoil within him. "What are you thinking?"

Aemond blinked, his breath coming in sharp, controlled breaths as he forced himself to calm. He could not reveal the depth of his feelings here, not now. He met his mother's gaze, his expression hardening into a mask of indifference.

"Nothing, mother," he said, his voice low and measured. "Only that Rhaenyra's choices will bring about her own downfall."

Alicent frowned slightly, but before she could press further, Otto interjected, his eyes narrowing as he studied his grandson. "This marriage will complicate things, Aemond. We must be cautious in how we respond. Rhaenyra seeks to bind the loyalty of her supporters through this match."

Aemond nodded stiffly, though his thoughts were still far from the politics of it all. He would not let this happen. He would not allow Jacaerys to take what should be his.

"Perhaps," Aemond began slowly, "we should consider our own alliances more carefully. There are other ways to weaken Rhaenyra's position."

Otto raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the shift in Aemond's tone. "What do you suggest?"

Aemond met his grandsire's gaze, a plan already forming in his mind, a way to ensure that you would not be lost to him, that Jacaerys would not win. His lips curled into a small, cold smile.

"There are always ways to turn the tide," he said softly. "We need only find the right pressure points."

Alicent looked between them, her unease growing, but Aemond paid her no mind. His thoughts were solely on you, on the woman who had unknowingly claimed his heart. He would have you, no matter the cost. You will be his, and nothing, not even Rhaenyra’s schemes, would stand in his way.

The fire in the hearth crackled softly as you sat at your vanity, the brush gliding through your long, silver hair. Each stroke was methodical, a ritual you found soothing as the day's events faded into the quiet of the evening. You took a deep breath, savoring the calm, but beneath the surface, your thoughts were a swirling current of unspoken feelings, thoughts that often turned to him—Aemond.

The quiet attraction you felt for him had always been there, lurking in the periphery of your mind, but never voiced, never acted upon. There was something in the way he carried himself, the intensity of his gaze, that made your heart quicken whenever he was near. Yet, the distance between you had always remained, unbridgeable, or so you had thought.

You placed the brush down, your hair now smooth and shining in the firelight, ready to retire for the night. But just as you were about to stand, a knock echoed through the chamber, pulling you from your reverie. You frowned, surprised by the interruption at this hour. Before you could respond, the door creaked open, and there he was, Aemond, standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"Aemond," you whispered, your voice betraying a hint of the surprise you felt.

He stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click. His presence filled the space, commanding yet silent, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. His eye, that piercing violet eye, locked onto yours, and you felt your breath catch. There was something different about him tonight, an intensity that set your heart racing.

"I... wasn't expecting you," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Aemond moved closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "I needed to see you," he said quietly, his tone carrying a weight that made your pulse quicken. He was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating from him, the scent of leather and smoke clinging to his clothes.

You swallowed, your mind racing as he reached out, his hand brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. The touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it sent a shiver down your spine. There was something in his eye, a hunger, a longing that mirrored the unspoken desires you had kept locked away for so long.

"I've thought about you," you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. "But I never—"

He silenced you with a look, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw before tilting your chin up, his gaze darkening. "No more words," he murmured, and then his lips were on yours, claiming them with a fervor that took your breath away.

The kiss was everything you had imagined and more, a rush of heat and need that left you dizzy. You responded in kind, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath the fabric of his tunic. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, and you felt the world narrow down to just the two of you, the fire, and the beating of your hearts.

When he finally pulled back, you were both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady yourself. But before you could speak, before you could mention the name that had been on your mind earlier, he shook his head.

"Don't," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I don't want to hear his name tonight."

You nodded, understanding the unspoken plea, and let the thought of Jacaerys fade away, replaced by the man before you, the man who had captured your heart without either of you realizing it.

Aemond's hands moved to the ties of your gown, his fingers deftly undoing the knots, and you felt your pulse quicken as the fabric slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet. You shivered, not from the cold, but from the intensity of his gaze as he took in the sight of you, bared before him. There was a reverence in his eyes, a deep appreciation that made your cheeks flush with heat.

He shed his own tunic, revealing the lean, strong lines of his body, the scars that marked him only adding to the allure. You reached out, your fingers tracing the contours of his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your palm. It was all so surreal, so perfect, that you almost feared it was a dream.

Aemond's hands were gentle as he led you to the bed, laying you down with a care that made your heart ache. He moved over you, his gaze softening as he positioned himself between your legs, his body pressing against yours in a way that felt both new and familiar, as if you were made to fit together.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, his eye searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

You nodded, your hand cupping his cheek, your thumb brushing over the smooth skin just beneath his patch. "Yes," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. "I want this, Aemond. I want you."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender kiss as he entered you slowly, the sensation both sharp and sweet, a mingling of pleasure and pain as he took your maidenhead. You gasped, clutching at his shoulders, but the discomfort quickly faded, replaced by a sense of fullness, of completeness, as he buried himself deep within you.

Aemond stilled for a moment, his breathing ragged as he took in the sight of you beneath him, your hair spread out like a silver halo on the pillow, your eyes wide with trust and desire. The knowledge that you were his, that you had given yourself to him, filled him with a satisfaction that went beyond mere conquest. It was everything he had ever imagined, and more.

Tomorrow, he knew, the servants who served Larys Strong would change the sheets, and the evidence of your union would be seen by those who needed to know. But for now, all that mattered was the here and now, the way you felt beneath him, the way your body responded to his.

You urged him to move, your hips shifting beneath him, and he obliged, setting a slow, steady rhythm that had you both gasping for breath. The pleasure built between you, a slow burn that grew hotter with every thrust, every kiss, until it was all-consuming.

Aemond was lost in the sensation, the feel of you, the sound of your breathless moans, the way your bodies moved together in perfect harmony. It was everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever dreamed of, and more. He could feel the tension building, the pressure mounting as you both neared the edge.

As you reached the pinnacle, your release washing over you in a wave of pleasure, he buried his face in your neck, his voice rough with emotion as he urged you to call his name, to let the world know who you belonged to. "Say my name," he breathed, his words a plea and a command all at once.

"Aemond," you gasped, your voice breaking as you clung to him, your body trembling with the force of your release. "Aemond, please..."

And then he was there, the last threads of his control snapping as he spilled himself inside you, his own release ripping through him with a force that left him trembling. Your name was on his lips, a whispered prayer, a declaration of everything he felt, everything he could never put into words.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your mingled breaths, the warmth of your bodies pressed together, the lingering echoes of pleasure that pulsed through your veins. Aemond held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both came down from the heights of your passion.

In that moment, there were no words, no need for them. Everything you had ever wanted, everything you had ever felt, was conveyed in the way you held each other, in the way your bodies fit together so perfectly, so naturally.

As you drifted into sleep, Aemond's arms wrapped around you, you knew that everything had changed, and there was no going back.

The morning arrived as Aemond moved with purposeful strides. His mind was sharp, focused, each step a calculated part of the plan he had set into motion. The events of the previous night played over in his mind, not with regret, but with satisfaction. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had intended.

He turned a corner and spotted Grand Maester Mellos in the distance, the elderly man’s stooped figure moving slowly down the hall. Aemond quickened his pace, his boots echoing against the stone floor, and within moments, he was at the Maester’s side.

“Grand Maester Mellos,” Aemond greeted, his voice measured and calm, though there was an undercurrent of urgency that could not be missed.

The Maester looked up, startled by the sudden appearance of the prince. “Prince Aemond,” he replied, bowing his head slightly in respect. “How may I assist you this morning?”

Aemond’s expression was inscrutable as he spoke, his voice low, as if to ensure their conversation remained private. “I require your expertise, Maester. There is a matter concerning Princess Y/N—my niece—that needs your immediate attention.”

Mellos frowned, his brow furrowing in concern. “Of course, Your Grace. What seems to be the issue? Is Princess Y/N unwell?”

Aemond shook his head, his gaze intense as he met the Maester’s eyes. “No, she is not unwell. However, I wish for her to be examined… to ensure that she has not been harmed.”

Mellos’ confusion deepened, and he tilted his head slightly, trying to understand. “Harmed, Your Grace? I do not follow. What examination, exactly, do you require?”

Aemond hesitated for only a fraction of a second before he continued, his voice steady and deliberate. “Last night, she and I... shared an intimate moment. I want to ensure that she was not hurt during our union, that she was not harmed in any way.”

The Maester’s face went pale, the full implication of Aemond’s words sinking in. His eyes widened slightly, and he took an involuntary step back, his hand trembling as he clutched the folds of his robes.

“Your Grace…” Mellos began, his voice shaky as he tried to comprehend the gravity of what had been revealed to him. “You… you wish for me to confirm that Princess Y/N was… that she…?”

Aemond’s gaze remained fixed on the Maester, his expression unwavering. “Yes,” he said simply, allowing the full weight of his words to settle between them. “I want you to ensure that she was not harmed. And if any trace of injury is found, I want you to inform me immediately.”

Mellos looked as though he might faint, the color draining from his face entirely. His mind raced, trying to grasp the enormity of what Aemond was asking, and the consequences that would follow. The bloodied sheets, the confirmation from the Grand Maester—these were not just symbols of a consummated union; they were a declaration of intent, a claim that could not be ignored by either Otto Hightower or Rhaenyra Targaryen.

“I… I understand, Your Grace,” Mellos stammered, his voice barely more than a whisper. “But, Prince Aemond, surely you realize that such news… it will reach the ears of the Queen, and Prince Daemon…”

Aemond’s lips curled into a faint smile, though there was no warmth in it. “That is precisely what I intend, Maester. The sheets will speak for themselves, and your examination will confirm what is already known. My niece is now mine, and any plans to wed her to Jacaerys must be reconsidered.”

Mellos swallowed hard, the implications of Aemond’s words weighing heavily on him. The Prince’s plan was clear now, as was the role he had unwittingly been drawn into. The Maester nodded slowly, realizing that there was no turning back from what had been set in motion.

“As you wish, Your Grace,” Mellos finally said, his voice hoarse. “I shall see to it immediately.”

Aemond inclined his head, satisfied that his instructions would be carried out. He could see the fear in the Maester’s eyes, the way his hands shook ever so slightly as he turned to leave. But that fear was necessary, a tool to ensure that the plan would proceed without a hitch.

“Thank you, Grand Maester,” Aemond said, his voice as smooth as silk. “I trust that you will handle this matter with the utmost discretion.”

Mellos nodded quickly, his face still ashen as he hurried away, his steps faltering as though the weight of what he now carried was too much to bear.

Aemond watched him go, a sense of triumph settling over him. The seeds had been sown, and soon enough, they would bear the fruit he desired. His grandsire would be forced to recognize the union, and Rhaenyra would have no choice but to break the engagement to Jacaerys. There would be no way to deny him now.

As he turned and walked back down the corridor, a sense of satisfaction filled him. Everything was falling into place, just as he had envisioned. And as for the flushed and worried Grand Maester, he was merely the first to feel the ripple effects of the plan Aemond had so carefully crafted. Soon, everyone would understand that you belonged to him, and no one—not Jacaerys, not Rhaenyra, not even Daemon—could take you away from him now.

Aemond entered the chamber, summoned by his grandsire. The usual sense of foreboding that accompanied meetings in the Tower of the Hand was magnified tenfold by the figures waiting inside. Otto Hightower stood near the center of the room, his expression grave, while beside him stood Rhaenyra, her face a mask of barely concealed fury. But it was Daemon, pacing like a caged beast, whose presence dominated the space, his anger felt in the air.

Aemond, however, was unperturbed. He walked with measured steps, his posture erect, his face a picture of calm satisfaction. His eye met Daemon’s, and he could see the rage simmering there, a wildfire barely restrained. Aemond’s lips curled into a slight smile, knowing full well that it would only infuriate Daemon further.

“You summoned me, grandsire?” Aemond’s voice was even, respectful, but with an edge of smugness that did not go unnoticed.

Otto cleared his throat, his gaze flicking between the furious Targaryens and his grandson. “Aemond, it has come to my attention—” He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “It has come to my attention, through certain… whispers, that Grand Maester Mellos was called upon this morning to examine Princess Y/N. An examination that has confirmed… certain truths.”

Rhaenyra’s fists clenched at her sides, her violet eyes blazing with a fury that matched the fire of the dragons themselves. “How dare you,” she hissed, her voice trembling with rage. “How dare you lay a hand on her!”

Before Aemond could respond, Daemon stepped forward, his hand instinctively reaching for the hilt of his sword, Dark Sister. His face was a mask of barely restrained violence, and for a moment, it seemed he might strike Aemond down where he stood.

“Daemon,” Otto warned, his voice firm, though there was a thread of unease beneath it. “Violence will solve nothing here.”

“Violence is all I see fit to deal with this insolent whelp!” Daemon barked, his voice echoing off the stone walls. “He dares to defile my daughter, and you expect me to stand idly by?”

Aemond, unflinching, met Daemon’s gaze head-on, his own expression hardening. “I have done what was necessary, uncle,” he said coolly. “She is mine now, and there is nothing you can do to change that.”

Rhaenyra’s voice broke through the tension, sharp and cold. “Her betrothal to Jacaerys has been agreed upon for years. You cannot simply cast that aside as if it means nothing.”

Otto interjected, his voice measured, though the urgency was clear. “In light of these recent events, the betrothal to Prince Jacaerys must be reconsidered. It is in the best interest of both houses that Princess Y/N and Prince Aemond are wed, to avoid any… further complications.”

Daemon’s eyes flashed with a deadly light as he turned on Otto. “You would sell my daughter to this boy after what he has done? You forget yourself, Hightower. She will not be tangled into your schemes!”

Aemond stepped forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a knife. “This is not a matter of scheming, uncle. It is done. She is mine now, and there is nothing that can undo it. You cannot deny what has been consummated.”

Daemon’s hand tightened on the hilt of his sword, but he did not draw it. Aemond’s words, as blunt and provocative as they were, held the weight of truth, and that was what infuriated Daemon most of all.

“The marriage must happen,” Otto pressed, sensing the shift in the room. “And it should happen soon, before word spreads and this matter becomes a scandal that neither house can afford.”

Aemond did not miss the opportunity to twist the knife deeper. “Indeed,” he said, his voice smooth, dripping with a satisfaction that only inflamed Daemon’s ire further. “The ceremony should be conducted in the traditions of old Valyria, where fire and blood bind us as one. And it should be done with haste.”

He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in the room before delivering the final blow. “For I hope that soon, another dragon will be born of our union.”

The implication hung heavy in the air, and Rhaenyra’s face turned ashen, her fury giving way to something colder, more calculating. Daemon, however, looked ready to strike again, his entire body tensed with the desire to lash out, to wipe that smug look off Aemond’s face.

But Aemond stood tall, his gaze steady, unflinching in the face of Daemon’s rage. He knew he had won. The plan had worked flawlessly. The whispers from Larys Strong, the bloodied sheets, the Maester’s examination—all had been carefully orchestrated to force this very outcome.

A tense silence stretched between them, thick and oppressive, until finally, it was Rhaenyra who spoke, her voice cold and sharp as a blade. “If this is to be done,” she said, “it will be done according to our customs, and with the respect due to our house. But know this, Aemond—should you ever bring harm to my daughter, not even your dragon will save you from my wrath.”

Aemond inclined his head slightly, accepting her warning with the same unyielding calm he had maintained throughout. “As you wish, sister. I will see to it that Y/N is treated with the honor she deserves.”

Daemon said nothing, but the look he leveled at Aemond spoke volumes. It was a promise, a vow that if Aemond ever crossed a line, there would be a reckoning, and it would be brutal.

But for now, Aemond had what he wanted. He had claimed you, and soon, the two of you will be bound in marriage. The thought of it sent a thrill of triumph through him, and though he kept his expression carefully neutral, inside, he reveled in his victory.

Otto, sensing that the matter was settled, nodded gravely. “Then it is decided. The preparations will begin at once.”

Without another word, Aemond turned and left the chamber, leaving behind a flushed, furious Daemon and a conflicted Rhaenyra. He knew that the days ahead would be tense, that there would be fallout from his actions, but none of it mattered now. You were his, and soon the world would see it, would understand that he was not to be trifled with.

And as he walked away, his thoughts were already on the future, on the life he would build with you, a future forged in fire and blood, just as the old ways dictated.

#house of the dragon #hotd aemond #hotd x female reader #hotd x you #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye

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thought--bubble · 6 months ago

Text

When he Breaks

Modern Aemond X (ex GF) reader

Word Count: 3,098

Note* This was written for @targaryen-dynasty's 3K celebration! (Congratulations my love you deserve it all!)

Modern Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Dividers and banners by @arcielee

Warnings:Toxic relationship dynamics, alcohol use, swearing, smut (fingering female receiving)

Four months should have been enough time. Should have been enough time to completely move on from the two-year whirlwind that was your relationship with the ever-elusive Aemond Targaryen.

Your relationship with Aemond Targaryen was difficult to put it mildly. You had tried. Really tried to make it work, but like with most things, there comes a time when things have simply run their course.

Aemond could be sweet, yet mostly, he was cold, closed off, and angry.

Aemond does not simply feel angry. He embodies anger. With each step he takes, he carries it around with him, like a festering wound he refuses to treat lest he forget the injustices he has suffered.

The smallest things could set him off, a harmless joke from his brother or his nephew simply breathing the same air.

the issue between him and his nephew, Luke, was simple enough to understand. You always thought it so tragic how an unfortunate childhood accident could tear a family apart at the seams. The accident had left Aemond blind in one eye, and as far as Aemond saw it, no one had ever paid for it. No one ever suffered for it, no one but Aemond that is.

His hate and anger ruled his life. It seeped into every facet of his being. Even being his girlfriend was not a shield from his rage.

This anger would come to a head when he ruined his father's birthday celebration, potentially the last one his sick ailing father would have. When he stood up and gave a toast insulting his nephews and calling his sister a whore, albeit using a roundabout way to say it. The ensuing physical altercation between Aemond and his other nephew, Jace, had been the final straw for you. No more would you live with this angry man. This powder keg that is just waiting to explode, this dragon grinding his jaw and salivating at any chance to tear apart those he saw as his enemies.

So, when you showed up for Helaena's birthday, a house party, Aegon is throwing. You were concerned about seeing Aemond for the first time since your split. You were over him. At least that's what you told yourself, and you believed it.

Until you walked in to see him, sitting on the sofa, cigarette in hand, smile on his face, and an arm around Floris' shoulders.

Floris Baratheon, a sweet little thing. Not a cruel bone in her body. The absolute visceral response you had to the scene was unexpected, yet you made sure to control your facial expression. You could not let him see you vulnerable or weak.

Yes, you were done with Aemond. You no longer wanted Aemond, but you did not approve of him to move on. To have someone else.

As you watch him sitting with Floris from across the crowded room of Aegon's flat, you feel your anger bubbling up. Four months, and he was already flirting about with a simpleton like Floris Baratheon? Had you meant so little to him?

You jump slightly as Helaena sneaks up next to you as you lean against the breakfast bar, drink in hand.

Helaena has always had this uncanny ability to seemingly pop up out of nowhere, with words of wisdom or nonsense. It truly was luck of the draw.

"There is no need to fight for what you don't want, just because someone else may want it." She muses thoughtfully.

"I'm not fighting for anything," you snap back. "She wants to deal with all of that. She's welcome to him."

"Hmmm," the light hum of Helaena's voice, usually a soothing sound, grates on your nerves.

"The two of you are more alike than either of you realize."

Your head instantly whips to the side, your eyes narrowed. "We are nothing alike," you hiss through gritted teeth.

Helaena simply hums in response before grabbing herself a wine cooler off the counter. "I hope you find some way to enjoy the evening."

"Hey," you call out behind her as she starts to walk away.

She turns and looks at you, with nothing but softness in her lavender eyes.

"Happy Birthday" You give her a weak smile.

"It will be entertaining, at least," she says dreamily before gliding off to welcome more of her friends who had just arrived.

With Helaena's final words lingering in your head, you knock back the drink in your hand and place the empty cup back on the counter.

Revenge is Aemond's favorite pastime. An obsession you have berated him for time and time again, yet here you stand, watching his faux gentleness that he seems intent on displaying for the fawn of a girl that sits beside him and all you can feel is the hunger inside you, willing you to take a bite out of him, sating that need for revenge of your own.

Aemond looks over at you briefly before his eye flickers back to Floris, carrying on their quiet conversation, which, from what you could gather, looked more like Floris speaking incessantly and Aemond, with his false patience, listening intently, or at least pretending to.

"What are ya drinking ya tart!" Aegon slurs as he leans over the counter, mixing himself another drink.

"Had a whiskey, looking for something else, though." You let your words trail off as your eyes search the countertop.

When you finally find the bowl of cherries, you turn to Aegon and bat your lashes. "Make me a tart cherry? You were always the best at making them. " You offer him a sweet smile as you lean over the counter. The short black dress you have on hardly concealing your rear.

"Ahh! A tart for a tart!" Aegon chuckles as he starts to make the drink, spilling liqueur all about the countertop.

You roll your eyes, careful not to let Aegon see. He's an idiot, but tonight, you will make him a useful idiot because leading Aegon is as simple as being kind for a fleeting moment.

"I may just be a tart tonight," you chuckle suggestively, taking the drink from Aegon's hand, slowly sipping at the contents. You can question a lot of things about Aegon. Pretty much everything about Aegon. But not his ability to make a strong drink.

"Let's sit. Catch up. We haven't spoken in quite some time. " You take Aegon by the hand and drag him to the sofa situated directly across from Aemond and Floris before Aegon has any chance to object.

"Right! OK then!" Aegon plops down on the sofa, his drink sloshing over the sides of his cup.

You slowly lower yourself down beside him, careful to make sure your dress rides up your thigh just enough so that the thickest part of your thigh is exposed to both Aegon and Aemond's lecherous glares.

"So Aegon," you place your hand on his thigh, gently running your hand up and down in a soothing motion. "How have you been?"

Aegon doesn't even respond before you feel the burn of Aemond's steely eye burrowing into the side of your face.

Aegon looks down at your hand on his thigh briefly before a lazy smile spreads across his face. "Good, grand actually," he answers as he scoots closer to you.

This is going to be easier than you thought. You could always count on Aegon and his never-quenched thirst for physical affection.

When Aegon lowers his voice to a seductive growl as he explains what he has been up to since the last time you spoke, you tune him out.

Your main concern was your body movements, now that you know Aemond's eye is on you. He is a complex man yet, still just a man.

You cross one leg over the other, your short dress riding up just a tad bit higher. You work hard to conceal the grin that fights to spread across your face as you can hear Aemond across from you uncomfortably shifting in his seat.

"Hmmm," you feign interest as Aegon goes on about passing all of his classes at uni this semester. Something he is most proud of given the unlikelihood of such a feat.

You pluck one of the cherries floating around your drink and slide it slowly past your lips and suck on it. You have yet to spare Aemond a single glance but are fully aware that his eye hasn't left you since you sat down.

"You ummm really like that cherry?" Aegon asks with a mixture of amusement and lust.

"I do," you answer, your voice soft and slow.

"Are you gonna ummm... eat it? Or just uhhh suck on it?" Aegon shifts even closer with this question, leaving almost no space between you.

"It's so sweet.... and a bit tart.... I want to enjoy it fully before I toss it away" You pull the cherry part way from your mouth, circling the small fruit with your tongue before biting through it with your front teeth, the juices dripping down your lip to your chin.

"Fuuuuck," Aegon whispers, his eyes trained on the trail of cherry juice as it reaches your chin.

"Whoops" You collect the juice around your mouth with your fingertip before popping it in your mouth and sucking the juice off.

You can hear Floris babbling about something and find joy in the fact that Aemond has seemed to have stopped responding to her.

Aegon brings his hand to your thigh, squeezing at the flesh there.

"Wanna go outside? Smoke a fag? Just... you and me?"

You go to respond but are cut off by Aemond, who is suddenly choking on his drink loudly.

You finally look over at him, his purple eye a ring of fire. There's all that rage, all that anger, what had driven you away seemed so pretty now.

"Are you alright?" You ask with a tone that's smooth like butter.

Aegon laughs loudly. "Seems my brother has chosen a drink that is too strong for him. This is something he does often. Here Aemond, give me your drink. " Aegon holds his hand out to Aemond. "I will drink it; I am typically able to handle the things thar are too tough for you." Aegon's eyes flit to you on his last word, and you smile at him.

"Is that so? That's a good thing to know." You stand up slowly, placing your nearly empty cup down on the coffee table. "I'm going to run to the rest room and then I'll meet you outside for that fag."

"Smashing" Aegon rises from his seat as you turn your back and walk off toward the restroom, each step calculated to make sure you sway your hips just the way you know Aemond likes it.

When you're done in the bathroom, you open the door to make your way outside, but instead of the empty hallway you expected, Aemond is leaning in the doorway. His shoulder pressed against the wood frame, his blonde bangs covering his bad eye.

"Having a laugh, are ya?" he asks, raising his eyebrows.

"A laugh?" You feign complete ignorance. "Sure, I've had a laugh or two. It's been a lovely evening. " You flash him a sweet smile and then move to the side, attempting to walk around him.

"A lovely evening?" He places his hand on your chest, pushing you backward into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

"A lovely evening of flirting with my whore of a brother?" His voice is calm, not at all in sync with the tension of his shoulders as he towers over you.

"Well, that is an unkind thing to say. I was merely catching up with a friend." You push his arm from your chest, a movement with which he does not fight. "Who is currently waiting on me outside, so if you don't mind ..."

You again move to walk around him.

"I do, in fact, mind. Do you think this is a game? To tease me all night while using my idiot brother as a pawn?" He snarls, bringing his hands to your waist, his digits clenching around you.

"I have not teased you," you smirk at him. "If you would like me to tease you. ..." You stand on your tippy toes, bringing your lips to the shell of his ear. "I can certainly do that."

You watch with fascination as his skin prickles and his grip around your waist tightens. "Do not"

You smile knowing you have him now, that cold stoic man that is Aemond Targaryen is putty in your hands, and it hardly took any work at all.

You bring your lips to the softness of his neck, just close enough so that your warm breath skates across his skin. "Do not? Oh, Aemond, you sound so serious when you say it like that."

His breath hitches as you chuckle, your hands sliding under his shirt, your fingertips dancing across his toned stomach.

"You're playing a dangerous game, love," he hisses, his grip on your sides growing tighter, creating a pleasant ache.

"My favorite type of game." You run the tip of your nose up the side of his neck while your hands find purchase on the buttons of his expensive button-down shirt.

"Did I make you angry, my darling?" You ask, a teasing lilt to your tone as you slowly pop out button after button.

A sound comes from his chest, a sound somewhere between a growl and a chuckle, a sound that is completely Aemond. "And why should I be angry? Hmm?"

As you pop out the final button on his shirt, his hand slides into the base of your hair, gripping tight and pulling your head back. "A whore will do as a whore will do, there is nothing to be gained by being angry about it."

"A whore? Is that how you think of me now? A few simple months is all it took for your blood to turn to bile in my presence as well?"

You don't fight his grip. In fact, you crave it. He pushes you up against the sink vanity, lifting you up by your thigh, his other hand never leaving your hair.

"You left me, you betrayed me, like they all do," he nips along your jawline while grinding his hardness up against your heat.

"I left. I did not betray" you argue between pants. The friction of Aemond's movements against your heat, building a pressure in your lower stomach, a fire that gets slightly bigger with each rut.

"Same thing," he reaches under your dress, running his fingers over the damp cloth that is the only thing keeping his fingers from your heated flesh. "You don't want me, but you melt in my hands, like a dirty little whore."

A smile crosses your face, and you close your eyes as he slips his fingers underneath the flimsy cloth of your thong. Circling your nub with quick aggressive strokes.

"So quiet now? Where is that girl I know with the big mouth, hmm?"

You moan loudly as he slips two fingers into your slick entrance.

"Ahhh, there she is," Aemond begins rutting his fingers into you at a quick and brutal pace.

You try to lower your head back down. The need to feel his lips on yours feels like a burning ache.

"Oh no. You don't get to kiss me. No." He brings his thumb to your engorged clit while his fingers continue their relentless pace.

"Whores don't kiss me. They cum on my fingers, when I say so." He growls as he nibbles down the side of your throat, his hand not slowing its pace.

The heat that has been building in your stomach becomes all consuming, your legs involuntarily stretch further apart, and your mouth hangs open wide. "Aemond, Aemond," you pant, each stroke of his fingers bringing you closer and closer to that blissful edge.

"Begging for me again, what a beautiful sound. Cum for me little slut. Cum for me now." He nips on your ear and pushes his thumb down on your clit while continuing to rub his small, rough circles.

Your eyes remain on the bathroom ceiling as the mix of pleasure, heat, and even a little pain continue to rise rapidly with each of Aemond's movements.

"That's fuck... that's it" you dig your fingernails into the skin of his back as you are hit with an overwhelming wave of pleasure, numbness temporarily traveling from your toes and up your legs as if the only feeling your body was capable of registering at this time was this feeling.

He brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking his fingers clean, his one eye watching you intently as you finish riding out your high.

Without a word, he begins to button his shirt back up.

"So that's it then?" You ask frustrated at his cool and cold demeanor.

"Well, Floris is back on the sofa waiting for me and Aegon is waiting on you for that fag which...." he looks you up and down, a smug smile creeping onto his face " I assume you really do need now...."

The feeling of pleasure that had been swirling around your body is instantly replaced with a red-hot rage. "So, you return to Floris, and I return to Aegon?" You hop down from the vanity hastily fixing your clothes and patting down your hair.

You push past him, wrenching the bathroom door open to see Aegon in the hallway.

"Oh, sod off!" Aegon huffs in annoyance. "I knew you were using me to make him jealous. I just hoped he wouldn't go all Aemond on you before I actually got something out of it." He starts to stumble back down the hallway.

"Aegon, wait!" You begin to chase after him when Aemond grips your shoulder.

"Looks like your plans have fallen through."

You quickly shift out of his grasp. "Easy enough to make new plans."

"Go outside. Have your fag and I'll be there in 10 minutes" he says calmly walking past you back toward the living room.

"What?" You call out to his retreating form.

"I have to at least let Floris know I'm leaving. It's the polite thing to do after all."

"Leaving?" You ask incredulously.

Aemond sighs, turning back to look at you. "Yes, leaving. There is a heavier punishment you must suffer for your betrayal.... and I can't very well inflict that upon you in a fucking bathroom."

He turns away from you again, walking quickly. "Ten minutes, love. Give me ten minutes"

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#modern aemond x reader #modern aemond #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #ewan mitchell verse #aemond fanfiction #prince aemond targaryen #aemond smut #jess fics

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youraverageaemondsimp · 5 months ago

Text

Metanoia ;

Aemond Targaryen x Transmigrated!Strong!Reader

>> Chapter III : The Pandemonium.

Summary: Aemond conjures up a plan to get his revenge on you but he faces an obstacle; his own self.

WARNINGS: Violent thoughts, plans for revenge, Aemond in unhinged, a little graphic but not too much + not proof read.

A/N: divider credits to @cafekitsune

<- prev // masterlist // next ->

How could he be so foolish? How could he forget what has happened? Was he willing to put his differences aside all because you woke up? No. He couldn't. He can't.

He despised you for what you had done, sure he may have liked you when he was young, sure you were the only one that was ever kind to him but it did not change the fact that you were the reason why he is blind in one of his eyes.

You chose to protect your brothers over him, of course you did, what did he expect? You were a bastard too just like them.

He remembers the way his mother was humiliated in front of everyone, all because of you.

It was your fault.

You.

He scoffed, was all he could think about is you? Now that he noticed it, you had never really left his mind, you had always been in his thoughts one way or another, infiltrating his body like a parasite, taking control over his mind.

He did not understand himself, why does he hold such sympathy for you when you had done nothing but hurt him more than anyone could ever imagine.

Had it been luke that took his eye out, he would've fed him to his dragon, so why does he excuse you? Should he feed you to his dragon? Vhagar could definitely use a meal.

Yet the thought of losing you terrifies him, he would never admit it, but he cannot imagine a life without you, it was as though your existence was granted just for him by the gods, if that were true, why were they so cruel? Making you be the one that did such a harm to him?

He gritted his teeth.

He felt uneasy.

He felt nauseous.

What is happening to him?

The night began to fall slowly, the sun retreating down, out of vision, he paced the room anxiously, all of his thoughts were driving him insane for the past few hours, the same question bothering him over and over again, he itched to do something.

Was it truly your fault? You were the one that encouraged him to go pursue vhagar, yet you were the very same person that he had to lose an eye to for the sake of gaining a dragon.

How ironic.

He hated it.

Perhaps you were worried that he would've actually hit jace with that stone, he wasn't going to, it was just to scare them off, yet you weren't able to tell, nobody was able to tell, he wasn't as cruel as everyone paints him out to be.

You should've known this, you knew the most, so why didn't you understand him?

The cut of betrayal and heartbreak was more painful to him than that of his eye back then, his stomach churned while the master stitched him up, while you stood there in horror as you watched his eye be taken out.

He remembers your expression clearly of guilt and horror.

You deserved to feel that way.

For what you had done to him.

He kicks the table in front of him in annoyance, making all the contents on it crash onto the floor with a loud thud, he breathes heavily, not wanting to recall any of the incident anymore.

His hands trembled, he stared outside the balcony, watching the sky turn dark blue.

The blue almost mocking him as the colour stood for justice and he got none.

He wanted justice.

He turns around, facing the room once again and sees his dagger laying on the bed.

He mouths quirks up into a smirk.

He knew what he was going to do.

---------------------------------------------

You paced around your room, wondering what the earlier incident with Aemond was, questioning why he had suddenly changed his behaviour, almost wanting to poke your eye out.

Besides, you realise how your own body gets extremely anxious when he is around, it's as if your body is extremely afraid and threatened by his existence.

The dinner was tonight, the infamous dinner where Aemond implies that your brothers are bastards in front of everyone, that essentially ends up with a fight.

You wonder if it would be different since he is betrothed to you now, maybe out of respect he wouldn't do that toast?

The maids get you ready for the dinner, dressing up in more comfortable clothes for the evening and you stay put, hoping that everything will go smoothly.

You were dead wrong.

You realised as you watched Aemond push Jace.

Why would he do this?

Alicent murmurs something to him, grabbing him but he yanks his hand away from her, “I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family mother, hmm.”

“Though..” He pauses and turns to look at you.

“It seems my niece and nephews aren't as proud as theirs.” He taunts openly.

“What the fuck.” You voice out loud and Aemond is shocked at your words, “I appreciate you looking out for my family uncle, even though you are missing an eye.” Those words of frustration leave your mouth.

And the entire room falls silent.

Alicent turns and glares at you, and Rhaenyra hushes you.

What?

“Oh shit, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it.” You quickly realise what you said, you lost control of your body once again, Aemond takes a deep breath before storming off.

Fuck, you messed up.

How could you make fun of him for such a sensitive issue?

You immediately rush after him, chasing as he strides through the hallways quickly, “Aemond! I didn't mean it!” You yell out, the passing by servants staring at you confused as you run quickly.

You grabbed his forearm, halting him.

He yanks his arm harshly away from you.

“Don't. Touch. Me.” He grits his teeth, you blink, taken aback, feeling guilty of bringing up such a sensitive topic. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean it.” You apologise once again, looking down.

He stays quiet before letting out a scoff.

“You-” The servant passes by, bowing to you both before leaving. He realises that this place is too public and pulls you to the side. “You're ironic, considering what you've done yet bring it up so insensitively.” He whispers, voice laced with anger.

“What?” You're confused.

He grabs your cheeks harshly, pushing them together. You stare at him wide eyed. Your eyes are beautiful.

He notes.

His mouth quirks up into a smirk, reminding himself of his plan later.

Your body begins to shiver out of your control, the feeling of anxiety gnawing in your stomach.

Surprisingly, Aemond pushes his lips against yours, capturing yours with his, you were confused, he was mad at you a moment ago, why was he kissing you now?

It's not like you minded it, but it was out of character, but you’d rather take this than to have him kill you cause you offended him.

His hand left your cheek and wrapped around your throat pulling you further into the kiss. He was being rough, teeth clanking against yours as he devoured you.

You kissed him back, trying to match his rhythm so the painful grazing of his teeth against your lips can be less impactful. The hallways fill with the echoes of your smooching, the wetness popping everytime Aemond pulls back to breathe.

Aemond wasn’t kissing you because he likes you or anything, or it wasn’t like your lips were distracting, he is doing this so he doesn’t end up hurting you now, yes definitely, that must be the reason; or at least that's what Aemond convinced himself to believe.

“Y/N- Oh my goodness!” You immediately pull away upon hearing the voice and turn to look at the direction the voice came from, feeling embarrassed when you see Rhaenyra standing at the end of the path alongside Alicent. They both probably rushed out of the dining room to check in on their respective children. Well only to find them practically devouring each other's faces.

Aemond looks annoyed, feeling upset that they were interuppted.

Wait, why was he feeling upset?

He coughs, leaving immediately, forcing you to face both of them alone.

“Uhm i-” You stumble over your words and Rhaenyra furrows her brows, “Good night mother, and your grace” You bow to both Alicent and Rhaenyra and leave hurriedly as well, none of them make an effort to stop you. Instead looking at each other in awkward silence before bidding goodnight to each other as well.

You rush to your chambers hastily, face feeling like it's on fire after the moment you just shared with Aemond, the anxiety still existed in your gut but you felt weirdly comforted by the kiss. You open the door, rushing in and face planting onto your bed before squealing into the sheets, gripping them tightly.

You kissed Aemond Targaryen.

You just kissed Aemond Targaryen.

You began to giggle like a woman gone insane, punching the sheets to get the excited feeling out of you while rolling on the bed.

You tried really hard to fit into the world, not wanting to make a big deal out of anything, keeping yourself fan behaviour within, contained and locked so you don't seem weird, but you couldn't contain the excitement now. This single handedly made you forget what happened moments prior and focus on the moment itself, you touched your lips feeling how warm they were and you couldn't hold back the smile that bloomed on your face at the thought.

For as long as you can remember you loved Aemond as a character, being his biggest fan. You got to experience something that nobody ever will. Should you be thankful? You didn't know, but whatever it was, the encounter left you feeling all giddy.

Your eyes begin to close automatically, unable to keep open, you shift into a more comfortable position and let the sleep succumb you.

In his room— Aemond grabbed the dagger, shoving it in its sheath before sliding a mural to the side, revealing the hidden passages in the red keep and descending down the stairs and to your room.

He pulled the wall of your chamber and it opened instantly, he looked around the room, checking for another person, making sure he was alone before stepping out of his hiding and into the room itself.

He walked like a predator towards its prey, staring at your unconscious body that was sleeping soundly, he stood by your bed studying your frame as he loomed over you.

Your hair fell messily onto your face, a strand getting stuck to the corner of your lips, his hand came up to your cheek and tucked the strand away and onto your ear. He caressed your face fondly for a moment before snapping himself out of it.

What was he doing?

He quickly pulls his hand away as if he touched fire and grabs the dagger instead, taking it out and pointing it at your eye from above. Your eyes were closed shut, eyelashes brushing your cheekbones as you took gentle breaths. You were fast asleep, stranger to the threat lurking in your room.

He lowered the dagger slowly, planning on whether to shut, stab it from above or slice it upwards your face; leaving a scar just like his. He tilted his dagger deciding he was gonna do the latter and pressed the metal to your skin.

He didn't put pressure yet.

His heart pounded heavily, his breath going out of control as he couldn't breathe, his head began to spin. He didn't want to do this.

What?

Why did he not want to do this?

He clenched his eye shut, scrunching his face in anger wondering as to why both his mental and physical state of his being betraying him. Why did he not want to hurt you? Was that not what he was after?

He planned meticulously for this moment, he might not ever get a chance to do this, so he should seize this moment immediately. Yet his heart ached as visions of your shared youth flashed in his memory. He exhaled, body visibly shaking, resisting from digging the blade deeper into your skin.

He yanks away the dagger from his hand, throwing it sideways across the room, it lands in the corner. He stares at his own hand wondering why his body acted out of his accordance.

Or maybe he was the one acting out of accordance to himself. He grabs his chest, his heart aching at the mere thought of wanting to hurt you himself, what is happening to him? He steps back from his place, staring at your still sleeping body.

He feared this.

He had always feared this would happen ever since the incident.

Hating you was easy when you weren't in front of him, but he could not anymore because you were in front of him now.

You were something precious to him, no, you are something precious to him, he couldn't bring himself to hate you or hurt you, it felt conflicting, he felt weak, he felt like a hypocrite, he felt disgusted at himself, how can he forgive you? How can he ever forgive you? What you did to him was irreversible damage so why is it that he feels guilty about hurting you?

Perhaps he already knew the answer.

That is correct.

He doesn't need to forgive you.

He had already long forgiven you.

Just the mere seconds after you slashing his eye out, as he fell to the ground clutching it in pain, blood seeping through his fingers, regardless of the excruciating pain he felt;

He forgave you that instant.

He didn't want to admit that to himself, for it would make him look like a moron.

He was a moron. A moron in love.

A moron still in love.

He turned on his foot, immediately leaving the room, closing the wall loudly behind him in anger as he rushed back to his own chambers.

After a few moments, you woke up sweating, immediately sitting up as you processed the dream you just had, unaware of the fact that Aemond was ever in your chamber, but rather waking up because of the dream.

No, it rather felt like a memory.

Is this a memory of this body?

Your eyes widened, now realising why Aemond had lashed out at you, why Alicent glared at you, and why Rhaenyra hushed you.

It wasn't Luke who took his eye in this universe.

It was you.

You felt so stupid.

TAGLIST !!

@intheheartoftheking @dracaryxzs @ladyoffandoms @spear-bearing-bi-witch @myheartfollower @jom3leo @zoleea-exultant @saturnssrings @uniquecutie-puffs @aleemendoza2425-blog @marvelita85 @feelingfaye @anaya-rhys @visenyareads @sylvievil @cypherpt5fttaehyung @ttysmfwna @void21 @technicallystrangereview @feyresqueen @evergreen9083 @mirandasidefics @org12 @blorbo-brainrot @thisishwrworld @shadowqueen09 @watermel0nsugarhigh @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @madislayyy @the-hufflebird-girl @hiatuswhore

#; metanoia !#aemond targeryen x reader #aemond targaryen fic #reader insert #aemond targaryen fanfic #x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond kinslayer #aemond one eye

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applejuicebegood · 8 months ago

Note

I'm sorry if your ask box isn't open I was wondering if you wouldn't mind like an angst with jason todd where the reader is like the complete opposite of like his ex's like she's chubby and isn't this Amazonian woman but so she feels like he is with her out of pity and a huge miscommunication is going on because she doesn't want to bother jason with these self conscious problems she is facing

A/N: This shall be my first attempt at Jason angst so I really hope it's decent!! It will be fluffy towards the end tho dw. Thank you sm for the request dude!! CW: Body-image insecurity, self-doubt, anxiety Masterlist

You always had a complicated relationship with your body. Never fitting into the right molds of beauty provided to you.

Only to grow older and realise that this would be the only body you had in this life - you should love all the parts that came with it. Parts that you would see mirrored in sculptures of gods and paintings of royalty. Why shouldn't you be proud of the fact that it was bodies like yours that were the templates for worship?

And then you saw your boyfriends ex. It was during one of your book-shop dates, he pointed her out before quickly walking to the next aisle thinking that you would be right behind him. Hating that his comfortable bubble with you had been suddenly popped by the presence of a dead love.

But you were stuck, your feet nailed to the floor, gazing at this pillar of a woman. And suddenly the blaring buzz of weight-loss adds and the 'concerns regarding your health' filled up your head. Making you hang your head to glare at your shoes. Jason appeared, looking concerned that you didn't fallow. He came and touched his hand to your back. 'You ok ma'?'

You nodded and tucked your hand back into his, with a cold pit of doubt forming in your stomach.

The next few weeks was a confusing fix of dread and doubt, for the both of you. You became distant, preparing yourself for the eventual confession from Jason that he only got with you because he felt bad. Brushing off his sweet touches and offers for you to spend the night. Resulting in Jason trying to chase after you in fear that his blunt arrogance was driving you away. He was confused, and when he got confused - he got angry. Something he felt an infinite amount of shame regarding because what if his capacity to be stuck in this loop of anger was the thing pushing you away.

You, the one stable thing he found that was able to drowned all of it out. You, he couldn't loose, not because of him.

'Baby.. we- we need to talk' He said, standing from the couch as you tried to escape to the door. You had prepared yourself for these words. Preparing yourself for the stinging pain of loneliness that would fallow as he tells you that you guys should break up. 'Here.. let's just sit' He say's motioning to the couch. At least you would be near him just a bit longer. 'Listen... I know I'm a dick- and that I can be really difficult but.. but baby if I did or said something that's making you so distant.. you need to tell me'. He pleaded, taking your hand into his. This was not in the script you had conjured up in your head. He was supposed to tell you to pack up your stuff and leave. That he had gotten back together with Artemis, someone actually deserving of his praise and unconditional love. Someone who was actually pretty. 'What.. Jace- no.. you.. Wait what are you talking about?' 'I mean- you've been so distant and just off for like weeks now, and if it was something I did.. baby I'm so sorry' 'Your not..? never-mind..' You say, tucking your hands under your thighs. 'So.. did I do someth-' 'No! Gods Jason, no! You didn't do anything I just.. I mean I figured you.. I mean I.. UGh!' You stuttered, simmering in your own frustration. 'Its so stupid..' You mumble, the warmth of Jason's big palm rubbing over your tense back became the rope keeping you from the harsh pit of disappear you were about to be cast into. 'Baby, It is not stupid if it's got you like this. Please, just talk to me..' 'I.. like- I mean Jace, I'm not the prettiest of girls. I'm not skinny.. and I just.. I mean maybe you should be with some-' 'Don't even finish that' He said sternly, grabbing onto both of your shoulders. Making your glossy eyes meet his intense glare. He sighed, taking a moment to place his words in the right order in his head. 'If you think, for even a moment, I would ever fall out of love for you because of how you look- I'm going to throw you off of the balcony' 'Please don't' You giggled, the swell of tears building in the corners of your eyes. 'Is that was this is? You thinking you weren't good enough for me because of your body?' You nod, swiping the tears escaping down your cheeks with the back of your hand. Jason scoffed, seemingly in his own disbelief. He suddenly shifted from the couch to kneeling in front of you, taking both of your hands into his. 'So, not to sound like too much of a pig.. but baby, your body is one of the reasons I fell so hard for you. Your glorious.. every inch of you is perfect' He said. Your fingers reached our to cup his chin and jaw, those rich green eye's looking up at you so lovingly. 'No.. Jace I-' 'Yes. Yes you are. And if I ever start to say or think differently, you better fucking shoot me'. He chuckled, softly rubbing the sides of your thighs. 'But-' 'No'. 'I just-' 'Stop talking' He mumbled kissing your palm as your hand curled around his cheek. You felt whiplashed. This was so far from the expected outcome of this conversation. Weeks of starving yourself of his touch for a false premonition, all for it to end so suddenly. It was this quiet revilement of your doubts. As you looked back into Jasons sorrowful eyes, it was like a fire catching to greater heights as you remembered just why you fell for him. He stood suddenly and bent down to sweep you up from the couch and into his thick arms. Your hands immediately wrapping around his neck as he pressed soft kisses around your cheeks and nose. "Wa- Jay! What are you-?' 'I think.. you are in need of some lovin' tonight Miss L/N. To make up for all this distance.. you owe me that' He said, making his way to his bedroom as his lips traveled down the curve of your neck.

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