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johnsbleu · 3 months

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Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 173

warnings: dual pov, nsfw moments hmh masterlist

Y/N is always pretty good when it comes to scary movies. Usually she’s walking through the dark house after watching one and she’s completely fine. Not tonight. Maybe it’s because we’re at a different house and not at our home where she knows every nook and cranny, but she’s pretty freaked out. She picked the movie and she’s trying to be so brave, but I can tell she’s scared, which is why I’m staying a little closer to her. If I can make her feel safe, then I’ve done my job.

We decided to sit out on the back deck for a little bit, and she’s looking over her shoulder every few minutes. I reach over and pull her chair closer to me, then I drape my arm over her lap and lean in to kiss her, hoping she feels safer.

“Getting tired?”

Y/N nods, “Yeah, we spent so much time in the sun today. I think I’m drained.”

I get up and reach for her hands, then I lift her up and throw her over my shoulder as she laughs. One of these days I’m going to be too old to do that, but it’s not any time soon, so I plan on doing it until my back breaks from old age. I open the sliding door, lock it behind me, then head to the front door and lock that one too. Y/N kicks her legs playfully, so I spank her.

“Stop that.”

“No!” she laughs, so I squeeze right under her butt where I know she’s ticklish. She screams so loud with laughter that I have to put her down so I don’t drop her.

I wrap my arms around her and lean down to kiss her as we walk back to the room, and she reaches down to undo my belt.

“Oh, is this what we’re doing tonight?”

She looks up at me and nods, “No different than the last two nights. I want as much uninterrupted sex as I can get.”

“Sounds good to me.” I whisper as I kiss her, “Really putting that new birth control to work, huh?”

Y/N tilts her head back and laughs loudly, “I’m glad I got the IUD instead of those stupid pills. Though, did you know there was a woman who didn’t realize that her IUD had fallen out and she ended up getting pregnant?”

I slouch a little and let out a big breath as I look at her, “Peach…”

“Sorry,” she laughs quietly, then she starts undoing my belt. I lean down to kiss her neck, and she begins to laugh, “Did I ruin the mood?”

I look at her as she laughs, “No.”

Even though she’s laughing, I lean down and suck on her neck, moving my hand down between her legs and rubbing her over her pajama bottoms. I slip my hand into her underwear, and she immediately stops laughing and lets her head loll back. I lay her down on the bed and pull her pajama bottoms off, along with her underwear, then I kneel down in front of the bed and smirk when she looks up at me as I pull her closer to my mouth, diving in deep for just a moment to give a taste of what to expect.

“You done talking now?” I whisper against her thigh, and she whimpers as she nods. “Good.”

You shoot up in bed when you hear a sound coming from the deck, and you reach over and shake John’s shoulder. He’s completely sound asleep, which yes, is flattering since he literally rolled over after kissing you goodnight, saying he loved you and immediately fell asleep. But now you need him awake right this minute!

“John!” you shake his shoulder, and he hums, “There’s someone outside.”

“No, there isn’t.”

You scoff and shake his shoulder, “Yes, there is. I keep hearing something hit metal.”

“I just got up to pee. There’s no one here.” he rolls over to his right side and pulls you into his arms, “Go to sleep, baby.”

“Wow, thanks for protecting your wife.” you glare at him in the dark even though he can’t see you. “You’ll feel like shit when someone breaks in and murders me.”

John laughs sleepily, “No one is breaking in, peach.”

You sigh loudly and lay down next to him, then you stare up at the ceiling, just waiting for the noise again because you know it’s going to happen. After a few minutes, you finally start to feel your eyes grow heavy, and you start to fall asleep. Just as your eyes close, you hear the noise again and sit up.

“I’m awake!” John groans and sits up. “I heard it too, and after mentioning someone murdering you, I got paranoid.”

You smile softly when he turns on the light, “I love you.”

“I love you too. Stay here.” he rubs his knuckle against his eye and walks out of the bedroom in his boxers with absolutely no fear of what he could find outside--he’d have it handled with no problems. Even in boxers.

God, it’s hot. If you weren’t so scared, you’d definitely go down on him when he comes back into the bedroom. On second thought, you definitely will if there’s nothing outside.

You pull your knees close to your chest and watch the doorway, then you furrow your brow when you hear the noise again and John laughing.

“What? Oh, god, be careful! John! Please be careful. Are you okay? What happened?”

Wow, you’re spiraling.

“Come here, baby.” he calls from the other room, and you immediately get up and rush out to him. He’s still laughing when you get to him, “This is what you’ve been so scared of all night.”

You scrunch your brows and walk over to see what John is pointing at, and you gasp and laugh when you see a small fluffy kitten playing with a string from your towel draped over the chair. Every so often, as it swats at the string, it bumps into the metal of the rain spout. That’s the noise you’ve been hearing all night.

You turn to John and cross your arms, “Told you someone was outside.”

“Okay, I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.” he laughs as he kisses your forehead.

The kitten meows and walks over to rub up against John’s leg, and you grin and look up at John. He takes a deep breath and laughs since he already knows what you’re going to ask.

“Listen to me,” he laughs as you reach down and pick up the fluffy kitten, “If this kitten is here by the morning, we can keep him.”

“He’s hungry, John!”

“We don’t know that.” John laughs, then he gestures to the yard, “Maybe he has a momma around here. We’ve seen a ton of cats since we’ve been here--tons of kittens even!”

You pout a little, “But look at him. He’s so thin. I can feel his ribs.”

“Baby, it’s so late right now.” he closes his eyes, then he looks at you and exhales as a smile spreads on his face when you pout, “I don’t know why I’m fighting this.”

You hold the kitten up in front of John as it meows, “Look at him, he’s so cute.”

“He is pretty cute,” he admits, and you smile.

“I’m keeping him.” you say, happily walking past, and John laughs as he nods. “What are you going to do? Say no to me?”

John shakes his head, “I wouldn’t dream of it. You know I can’t.”

He opens the door for you and locks it when you get inside, then he kisses your cheek and smiles softly as you talk to the kitten.

“What are you going to feed him?”

“I don’t know.” you shrug and open the fridge, “Cats don’t actually drink milk. I’ll give him some water, but…I don’t have anything to feed to him.”

John opens the fridge and holds up the chicken that he had bought at the store earlier to grill out tomorrow, “You could boil this. Give him a little. It’s probably not great, but it’s something. We can go to the store tomorrow and get some food.”

You smile at John and watch him grab a pot and fill it with water before dropping a chicken breast into it. He puts the other chicken breasts away and turns to you, smiling when you lock eyes with him.

“God, you’re so cute. It’s dangerous, I hope you know that.” he says, leaning down to kiss you. “It’s 3 in the morning and I’m in the kitchen boiling chicken for some kitten we just found, and I already know we’re bringing him home.”

“Come on, he’s cute!” you hold him up and smile when he nibbles on your finger, “We can take him to the vet when we get home and make sure he’s okay.”

John nods, “What if he has a momma out there and she’s looking for him?”

“Well, we’re here for a few more days. I’ll ask around.” you get up and snuggle the kitten as you walk to John, “But until then, he stays here.”

“You putting your foot down?” John jokes, and you stomp your foot playfully. “Ronan’s going to be very happy with her birthday present.”

You look at him and laugh, “This isn’t your anniversary gift to me?”

“I mean…it can be!” he laughs, then he shrugs, “My gift is kind of shit anyway.”

You hold the kitten in your right arm tucked close to your chest, then you lean up and kiss John, “You’re a really good man. Now finish boiling that chicken, so we can feed this baby, then…I have a surprise for you.”

John perks up, “What’s that?”

“As long as you aren’t tired…” you back away and seductively wipe your finger against your bottom lip before looking down lower to John’s boxers.

“Lucky for you, I’m fully awake now.” he smiles, and you wink at him.

Since the kitten is pretty small, you didn’t want him to have full range of the house. There’s too much stuff that he could get into, plus he has been outside so you don’t know if he has fleas or not; you didn’t notice any when you were holding him, but you can’t be too safe. You folded up a few towels and made a little bed for him in the bathroom, then you put his water in there with him as well.

You were barely able to contain yourself this morning, so you got up quickly and changed your clothes to go see the little kitten. When you went into the bathroom, he was still sleeping, so you let him be--after checking to make sure he was still alive, of course.

John was in a pretty good mood despite you waking him up at three in the morning, most likely because he got a little bit of a treat before going back to sleep. The two of you went to the store and got some things for the kitten. You bought some food, a few toys, and some shampoo to wash away any possible fleas. John won’t admit it, but he’s excited about the newest family member, and you know he is because he picked out a cute little collar for him.

“Do we even know if it’s a boy?” he asks as you get out of the car.

You shrug, “I couldn’t tell, but I’ll look again. Either way, Baby Cat is going to look so cute in that collar.”

“Are we really going with Baby Cat?”

“Until Ro can name him.” you say as you open the door, “I’m blanking on names at the moment.”

John holds the door open and laughs, “Ro doesn’t know very many words yet.”

“Then let’s hope she doesn’t name the cat ‘dada’.” you say, and John smiles. “We already have a fish and an actual dada with that name.”

Before you can even drop the bags off at the table, you rush over and open the bathroom door, then you look down as the little kitten prances out into the living room. John kneels down and wiggles his fingers, and the kitten stops and wiggles his little butt before he pounces at John’s hands.

“Ro is going to love this,” John says, and you nod as you sit down on the couch and go through the bag.

The kitten walks over and tries to jump up to the couch, but he barely gets two inches off the ground. You reach down and pick him up, then you take out the toys and offer them to him.

“He’s so tiny,” John says as he sits down, “I wonder if he was the runt, which reminds me, I was going to go talk to the people a few doors down. I saw some cats outside their door.”

You frown a little, “I hope they don’t want him back. Well, I shouldn’t say that. If they want him back and actually want to take care of him, then we’ll give him back, but…”

John leans over and kisses your temple, “I’ll go talk to them.”

“I’m gonna give him a bath, then I’ll get some lunch started for us,” you say as he gets up, and he leans over and kisses you.

“Off to go bribe someone to let us keep their cat.” he says, and you look over your shoulder at him and laugh. “Anything for my girls, though.”

You’ve just sat on the couch with the kitten when you hear the door open. You look down at the kitten with his eyes closed as you take the towel and dry him off, and you melt a little when you hear him purring. John leans down and kisses the top of your head, then he sits with you and smiles when he sees the kitten lying on your chest as you dry him.

“Give me the news.”

John laughs, then he takes a deep breath, “Well, there is a momma cat, but momma cat has been…having lots of kittens lately and is getting fixed soon. So, I talked to them and they said that if we found a kitten, we’re more than welcome to take him.”

Your heart bursts as you sit up, “Really?”

“Yes.” he nods, reaching over to pet the cat, “It’s better that we take him than something bad happening to him. I told them that our daughter would be thrilled--and that my wife would be pretty happy too.”

“We get to keep you!” you say to the kitten, then you kiss him and hug him. Your eyes snap open and you look at John, “New family member!”

John furrows his brow, “Huh?”

“The psychic said we’d have a new family member and that it might not be a baby,” you hold up the kitten and smile at John, “New family member!”

“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding his head, “Even more reason to believe her.”

You lean over and kiss him a few times, “It’s a boy, by the way. Found that out while I gave him a bath.”

John laughs, “Can’t wait to see what Ro names him.”

“We might just have to think of something.” you say, and John nods his head, still petting the kitten. You look at John and smile softly, “Thank you for this. I know we talked about getting her a kitten later on when she’s older, but…he kind of fell into our lap.”

Letting out a small laugh, John reaches over and touches your chin, rubbing his thumb against your bottom lip, “I would give you anything you ask for. You know that.”

“I don’t ask for anything,” you shake your head and look into his eyes, “I just ask for you to love me.”

“You don’t have to ask me to do that,” he whispers as he leans closer, “Loving you is as easy as breathing.”

You tear up a little and nod, “I feel the same way. I love you so much.”

“I will give you and Ronan anything you ask for. Whatever you want, you can have. You two have me wrapped around your little fingers.” he says, and you lean over to kiss him. He cups your face and kisses you again with a little more intensity, then he looks down at the kitten sleeping on your chest, “Yeah, I get it, little guy, her boobs are great.”

“Shut up!” you laugh as you playfully swat John’s arm. “How did you just go from being so romantic to being…a man?”

John scoots over and rests his head on your chest too, “Ah, so cozy.”

“You’re weird.” you say, and John squeezes your breast a little as you laugh.

“Can I ask something and pray like hell you won’t get upset?”

You look at John when he leans up, “We’re keeping this cat.”

“No, no, it’s not about the cat.” he says as he sits up, then he takes a deep breath, “Have I made you feel…unsexy lately?”

“Unsexy? Is that a word?”

John nods earnestly, “I think so.”

“Okay, well, no, you have not made me feel unsexy. Why?”

John takes another deep breath and shrugs, “You just…don’t ever wear lingerie and I thought maybe I made you feel bad about yourself or something. I just want you to always feel good and feel beautiful, because I think you’re the most beautiful person. If I made you feel bad, I’d want you to tell me. I know you feel good when you wear that stuff, so I just…I don’t know. You can hop in to the conversation at any point here.”

You start to smile before you lean over to kiss him a few times, “I don’t wear that stuff because of you, actually.”

“Oh, god.” John puts his head down for a moment, then looks at you, “Tell me what I did. Please.”

“Well,” you set the kitten aside and turn to face John, “The problem usually is I want to wear that stuff because yes, it does make me feel pretty and sexy, but also I know you like it when I wear it. The problem is…you don’t let me get away from you for long enough to actually change into it. When you want me, you want me that moment, which, hey, I’m flattered, but you just don’t give me time!”

John exhales in relief when you smile at him, “So basically you don’t wear it because I need you right that minute?”

“Literally yes.” you laugh as John closes his eyes. You straddle his waist and sit in his lap, “John, you’ve never made me feel anything but beautiful and sexy. I would love to wear lingerie more, but sometimes we need each other right that minute and that’s okay!”

“Did you bring some with?”

You start to grin as you lean forward to kiss him, “Yes.”

“You should wear it tonight.”

Letting out a small laugh, you nod your head before nuzzling into the crook of his neck, “Anything for you.”

You bite into an apple slice and squint out at the sun going down. Baby Cat is lying in your lap right now and snoozing away. He won’t stop following John and you around, so it’s nice that he seems to be fine with being away from his momma. You look down at him and pet him, then you reach for an apple slice just as John does. He gestures for you to take one, then he smiles at you.

“Almost three years, peach.” he whispers, and you smile at him. “Three years since I met you. Can’t believe it.”

“Me neither,” you reach for his hand and kiss the back of it, “You make me really fucking happy, I hope you know that. I hope you know how in love with you I am and how I feel like I can be myself with you, and how safe I feel with you. I know talking about how we feel about each other isn’t an unheard of concept in our relationship--we tell each other how much we admire and love each other all the time--but I just really want to tell you that I am so fucking happy that I met you. You’re the best husband I could have ever asked for, and you’re my best friend. On top of being the best husband, you’re my best friend too, which is the most important thing.”

John cups your face and smiles, “I love you, sweetheart. The love of my life and my best friend, how lucky am I?”

“How lucky are we?” you smile, leaning over to kiss him. “You ever think about how different things would be if it hadn’t been me who brought the mail to your house? You could be living in Manhattan with April in a nice apartment or with Tess.”

“Well, for starters, April is a lesbian, so that’s not happening.” he says, and you laugh quietly. “And two, Tess is in love with my best friend and my best friend is in love with her, so that also won’t work. And finally, I am so madly in love with you. It didn’t matter who brought it over to me. I wanted to talk to you. I would have kept putting shit in your mailbox until you came over.”

You smile, “Or until you worked up the courage to talk to me.”

“Yeah, that too.” he grins, then he squeezes your hand, “Peach, you scared me. You still do. All I wanted was you, and I have you now. I’m never gonna take that for granted. You’re everything to me. Everything that I do, every thought that I have, you’re right there in my mind. Every decision I make, I do with you in mind. I mean it, you are everything to me.”

“That’s what I love so much about you, and I’m sure Helen did too.” you say, and he raises his brows, “When you love, you love with your entire heart. It’s really nice to be on the receiving end of that.”

John scoots closer and wraps his arm around you, “You love with your whole heart too. We were both so timid at first, but once we knew that this was real, we were both all in. I only ever want to be all in with you.”

Leaning your head against his shoulder, you close your eyes and smile, feeling the sun warm your cheeks as it dips lower. John presses a kiss to the top of your head and rests his cheek against your forehead.

Three years with this man already, and it’s flown by. Forever won’t even be long enough. Whatever time you get with him won’t be long enough. You can’t focus on it for too long, otherwise you’ll just be upset, so you open your eyes and inhale deeply.

“Can you believe Ro is going to be one?”

John laughs, “I can’t. How the hell do we have a one year old?”

“No clue,” you shake your head, laughing, “But I will say, she is your freaking twin, and I’m totally cool with it. I know she’s only one, but she has all of your good qualities, I swear. She’s sweet and kind, and she’s somehow so patient too. We’re raising a freaking phenomenal little lady.”

“Well, her momma deserves most of the credit here,” he says, tipping his head to you, “You’re doing a great job with her. I see the way she watches you and mimics you. You’re setting a great example for her, and I’m so happy to know my daughter is going to grow up to be just like her mom.”

You smile, “And her dad. He’s a great role model too; he deserves credit too.”

John laughs as he leans over to kiss you, “We’re doing a good job with her, I think.”

“Me too,” you smile, then you start to laugh, “We really just stroked each other's egos for a few moments. Felt great.”

“Sure did, and I’ll do it again.” John smiles, leaning down to kiss you.

Baby Cat stretches out in your lap, then he crawls over to John and stretches out, reaching his little arm out in front of him. John scoops him up and holds him close to his face, and the kitten reaches out to touch John’s nose. John gives his paw a little kiss, then he sets him down and laughs when he sees you watching him.

You grin, “You love Baby Cat.”

“He’s really cute, but I’m not crazy about the name.”

You laugh, “Well, I can’t think of anything! And he’s not getting the typical cat name like, Shadow, Midnight, Fluffy, and shit like that. Ronan needs to name him.”

“She’s going to be so excited to see her kitten,” John pets the cat and looks at you, “And she’ll be excited to see her momma.”

“And her dada.” you whisper, then you lean over to kiss him, “But momma needs daddy to herself for a few more days.”

John laughs as you push him down into the sand and kiss him, “I’m cool with that.”

“Time to exchange gifts?” you ask, and John laughs as he holds up the gift-wrapped box for you. You point at the two gifts on the table and he furrows his brow in confusion. “One for our anniversary, one for your birthday.”

John sits next to you and laughs, “Remember we weren’t being completely serious with these gifts.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m aware.” you say, and John nods as he hands the box to you.

You rip along the edge and pull the paper off, then you put it on the floor and smile when Baby Cat immediately pounces on it. John didn’t put too much tape on it, so you don’t have a problem opening the box at all, and you push the tissue paper down and gasp as you hold up the beautiful white and floral robe.

“This is gorgeous,” you rub it against your cheek and smile, “I love this. Thank you!”

John grins, “Cotton.”

“Yeah,” you laugh as you nod, then you lean over to kiss him, “Thank you. You know I love a good robe.”

“I do.” he smiles, watching you grab the box for him. He opens it carefully and tosses the paper down for the kitten, who is in love with the paper and the box from your gift, then John starts to laugh as he holds up the boxers. “Wow.”

You laugh and shrug your shoulders, “Cotton.”

“Yeah, I got that.” he holds them up and starts to laugh even harder at your face printed all over the boxers with ‘MINE’ written in funky letters over the crotch. “Wow, baby, these are…”

“I don’t know! Cotton is such a weird one! All I could think of was blankets and boxers and we don’t need any more blankets, so I just settled on those. I thought you’d think they’re funny.”

John looks down at them, still laughing, “I do think they’re funny. Might even wear them sometime just for you.”

“Oh, can’t wait.” you joke, knowing full well if anyone is wearing them, it’ll be you. You cup his face and kiss him, “Happy anniversary, babe.”

“Happy anniversary.” he cups the back of your neck and presses his lips to yours harder before you pull away and grab his other gift. It’s just in an envelope, so you already know he’s very curious. He opens the envelope and pulls out two tickets, and he widens his eyes and looks at you, “What?”

You shrug, “Thought you and Jimmy would have a good time. Wherever the World Series is going to be this year, you and Jimmy will be there with the best seats--right behind home base.”

“Well, what if I want to bring you?”

“As much as I love doing anything with you, I think I’m going to sit baseball out, especially the World Series. Bring Jimmy. He’ll have a blast. You both will. Make a weekend of it.” you smile at him, and he lets out a small laugh. “Happy birthday.”

John looks over at you and smiles, “Thank you. This is very thoughtful, though I am a little sad you don’t want to come with.”

“Tess and I just want you and Jimmy out of our hair for a weekend.” you joke, and John laughs. “He loves baseball and you do too. And look, I know that…back when you two became closer, it was because he invited you to watch games with him--it’s how you two bonded.”

“You are so sweet,” he says softly, rubbing your back. “Thank you for this.”

You scoot over and rest against his shoulder, “You’re very welcome. Did I do good this year?”

“Well, last year you gave me a baby, so…” he playfully grimaces and clicks his tongue, “I’m gonna need a little more effort next year.”

“You are absolutely not getting another baby next year.”

John jokingly groans before leaning over to kiss you, “Another pair of boxers will do then.”

John stands next to you at the counter and begins to help you cut up some veggies for a salad. He leans down and kisses your bare shoulder, and he smiles when you look at him.

“I like this tank top on you.” he says, and you start to laugh. “Looks good.”

“I wonder why you like it so much,” you joke, and John glances at your breasts before he starts to laugh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He puts his hand up, still laughing, “It looks great on you. The fact that I can see your nipples through it is just a bonus. You look…hot.”

“I look ‘hot’?” you set the knife down and turn to him, “You think I’m hot?”

John furrows his brow as he laughs incredulously, “Of course I do! I think you’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. You’re sexy!”

You burst out laughing until you’re in tears, “God, please, why is this so funny to me?”

“Because you’re weird. Did our conversation about the lingerie tell you nothing?” John says, looking at you with amusement as you laugh. “Of course I think my wife is sexy. Baby, you have no idea how attracted I am to you.”

“I think I have some idea.” you say, squinting your eyes a little before glancing down at the crotch of his pants. You press your hand to your cheek and laugh, “I’m warm. You’ve embarrassed me!”

John smiles proudly, “You’re so cute. Come here.”

You fall into John’s arms as he laughs, and he buries his face into the crook of your neck and inhales your perfume. You close your eyes and smile happily as the two of you hold one another for a few moments before you hear Baby Cat meowing at your feet. You lean back and look at him, and he stretches out before he tries to climb up John’s jeans. John reaches for him and puts him on his shoulder--his new favorite spot to hang out.

It’s actually kind of ridiculous how hot this makes John. He’s already hands down the sexiest man you’ve ever seen, and honestly he’s just getting better with age. You were never really into those stupid firefighter calendars--the ones with the guys who clearly aren’t really firefighters posing with kittens and puppies, or they pose shirtless as they bake a cake--but seeing John hold a little kitten and kiss him, yeah, you’d definitely like to see him shirtless and just in his boxers as he poses with the kitten. Hell, even if he was shirtless in the kitchen with a huge mess behind him, you wouldn't mind that.

John is sexy. He’s always been sexy, but seeing him so vulnerable and sweet just makes him so much better--there’s nothing sexier than an emotionally mature man. Seeing him show up for you and Ronan every single day, seeing him with her, seeing how he goes out of his way for you on days when you struggle a little, all of that just makes you all the more attracted to him.

It sure doesn't hurt that he looks the way he looks, of course. His beard is still dark, but he does have some gray that is poking through here and there. His hair as well. His skin is amazing--you’re definitely still trying to figure out his secret for great skin. He’s still tall and lean with a little more muscle now than before since he’s been doing so much work around the house. He looks even better now than he did before, which is mind-boggling since he looked gorgeous before.

“Hey,” John taps your chin and smiles at you, “Where did you go?”

“I was just thinking about how sexy you are.” you say, and John scoffs. You hold his gaze and nod your head, “I’m not kidding. I was just thinking about how sexy you are and how sexy you’ve gotten.”

John perks up, “Really now?”

“Yeah, genuinely,” you look up at him, smiling, “You know how you always say that you’re more attracted to me now than before, and then you quickly add in that you were very attracted to me before so you don’t upset me?”

He starts to laugh, “Yeah.”

“That’s how I feel.” you say, and he chuckles, “Seeing you as a dad, seeing you be so vulnerable with me, seeing you so emotionally mature, seeing you with a tiny little kitten on you…”

“It’s hot?”

You laugh, “Yeah! I don’t know, John, you’re just getting more and more attractive to me. I like it a lot. I like that we haven’t lost our spark. Sure, we’ve had our little spurts where we’re not as intimate, but it’s not because we don’t want to be. We might just be a little more busy or tired, but it’s never been because we’re not into each other anymore--not for me at least.”

John laughs when you smirk and shrug your shoulder, “Oh, you know it hasn’t been for me either, you little shit.”

“Excuse you!” you laugh as John smiles at you, “You’re a little shit!”

“Nope,” he shakes his head and places Baby Cat back onto the ground where he quickly runs off to play with a toy, “You are a little shit.”

You scoff, turning your nose up jokingly, “I am not.”

“You are,” he pulls you to him and leans down to kiss you, “You’re my little shit.”

Letting out a small laugh, you kiss John as he helps you onto the counter, then he spreads your legs and steps between them as you two make out. You wrap your legs around him and pull him closer, and he lets out a small moan. His hands are warm on your back, and you shiver when you feel him slip one hand under your tank top.

Rain has been pattering against the windows all day so you’ve been cooped up inside, but you sure don’t mind. You really don’t mind when you have John in front of you to keep you entertained. Whether that’s with conversation or sex, whatever time you spend with him is well spent. Lying on the couch watching TV or reading, chatting about complete nonsense, or reminiscing about things from the past, as long as you’re with John, it’s perfect.

“Hey,” you lean back and look into his gorgeous brown eyes, “I love you.”

John’s finger trails along your jawline as he smiles, “I love you too.”

“We were making dinner,” you whisper, and he laughs as he looks down at his left hand resting on your breast, “I think we got a little sidetracked.”

“You’re very distracting, Mrs. Wick.”

A smile spreads on your face as you hold his gaze. You gently remove his hand from your chest and pull your tank top off, tossing it aside. John inhales deeply as he takes you in, and you reach for his hands again and place them both on your chest.

“Sorry for being so distracting.”

“You can distract me anytime.”

You start to laugh, “You’ve seen my boobs how many times?”

“Lots…” he nods, still staring at your chest as his fingers trail about your soft skin, “Lots of times. Still doesn’t matter how many times I see them, I fucking love them!”

You smile at him, “Still obsessed with my piercing, I see.”

John nods as he looks up at you with your nipple in his mouth, “Yes. Very.”

“When we get home--”

“I don’t want to talk about going home. We have a few more days. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“We can’t go home yet,” you shake your head and reach up to cup John’s face, “You still haven’t fucked me in that amazing shower yet.”

John pulls you closer and lifts you off the counter, “We have time now.”

“We were supposed to be making something to eat.” you say, and John starts to smirk.

“You have something I can eat,” he replies, low and velvety, and you bite your lip, “And you definitely want me to, don’t you?”

You hug him tighter, “Well, you certainly are the best at it.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he whispers, and you close your eyes as he sucks on your neck. “I need to hear you moan for me, and I need it to be loud.”

You chuckle as John lays you back on the bed, “I don’t think we’ll have a problem with that.”

John hovers over you and smiles before he begins kissing down your body, getting himself situated between your legs. He pulls your shorts down and tosses them aside as he licks his lips, then he pulls your underwear off and smiles. He moves his hand up your stomach to rest between your breasts, then he leans down and buries his face, causing you to immediately moan loudly. “Good girl.”

“Remember how you wanted me to wear lingerie?” you say, and John laughs between your legs, “This is the problem right here, John.”

“You want me to stop?” he asks, leaning up to look at you as you start to smile and shake your head. He moves back between your legs, “Good because I don’t want to either.”

taglist: @lilithlinen @ladyren33 @multifandombliss @ruby-octo @tnu-ree @scream-queen-25 @beingnerdyissupercool @sakurachan-9

#john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick imagine #john wick x y/n #fic: hold my hand #john really loves to EAT. doesn't he.#and he just loves her god he loves her so much #if someone loved me like that i would pass out #i hope you all are loved like that one day #well i hope you enjoy!#they've been together 3 years now and that's so cute #and ro is gonna be ONE #like WHAT #that's my daughter y'all!#anyway lmao lemme shut up ENJOY!!!!!

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aegonstradwife · 2 months

Text

exposure therapy | aemond targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested; you and aemond were recently married. you're afraid of him, but aemond goes to great lengths to show you he's not that scary.

warnings: excessive use of ellipses, #1 wife lover aemond targaryen, brief mention of childhood trauma, smut. (fingering, face riding, oral.)

a. note:link to the original request.

As Aemond's new wife, it's surprising how little time you spend together. The servants whisper about it around every corner; how you skulk through the halls hoping to avoid him, how nearly every meal you take is apart from each other.

But there's a very good reason for this, one that you've never admitted to anyone.

You are terrified of him.

Even at night, you might share the same bed, but it's big enough that you can sleep soundly without ever once touching him. Although even that was difficult at first; those first few nights you dreaded climbing into bed with him and got nearly no sleep at all.

He is so much bigger, and much stronger, than you. He really could do anything he wanted to you and you would have no chance of fighting him off.

Eventually, however, Aemond's still body beside yours throughout the night, you realized he either wouldn't, or didn't want to, touch you. And finally you were able to get some sleep.

But now, though sleep comes much more easily and your nights are no longer fraught with peril at the thought of him forcing himself upon you, it still doesn't mean you have any desire to be around him.

And you thought he felt much the same. Until tonight.

Aemond is already comfortable on the settee by the window, reading, when you retire to your shared bedchamber for the night.

Hells bent as usual on ignoring him, you busy yourself with removing your shoes in front of the wardrobe.

"Come. Sit with me."

In the quiet of the room, Aemond's sudden, uncharacteristic, voice makes you jump, going very still. His tone is soft; now that you think on it, you've heard Aemond's voice very few times, either before or after you were married.

In your mind, the few times you had heard him speak, you remember him sounding like a complete barbarian. Not this lilting, almost melodic, softness....

Straightening, you nervously smooth the skirts of your dress down over your thighs. Aemond's silhouette is stark against the candles guttering on the windowsill.

You gulp, starting to tiptoe toward him, but stopping at the opposite arm of the settee. "Do I have to?" You ask quietly, and even that takes every ounce of courage in your weary body.

This is probably as close as you've ever been to him when not in bed together at night.

"I won’t bite." Aemond's lips are quirked in a half smirk. He closes the book in his hands and sets it aside, patting the space beside him. "I assure you, I won’t hurt you. Come. Sit."

Though he had indicated the middle cushion, you sweep your skirts under you and take a seat on the one beside it, furthest from Aemond.

Normally you would have loved sitting and reading by candlelight, the cool breeze from the open windows ruffling your hair.

But now you bite your lip, heart hammering hard against your ribcage like a frightened bird.

Aemond can feel the tension radiating off of you. Your shoulders tight as a bow string, the muscles in your jaw taut, hands folded in your lap fidgeting with a loose thread on your gown.

He simple looks at you for a very long moment. Your features are delicate, almost fragile, your frame small and dainty when compared to his. To Aemond, you look very much like a porcelain doll. He has no idea how someone could be so beautiful and yet so…. breakable.

You glance nervously at him, wondering what he could possibly be thinking.

"What?" You ask, though you keep your voice low, not wanting to anger him.

"You're afraid of me," Aemond states bluntly. He leans against the back of the settee, studying you with one intense purple eye. "Why?"

You laugh aloud, unable to stop yourself. Now seems as good a time as any to tell him exactly what you've been thinking since your wedding day.

"Look at you. And look at me. You could do whatever you want to me and I wouldn't be able to stop you. Not to mention...." You shrug. "The stories about you aren't kind...."

Aemond raises an eyebrow at your laughter, that same small, wry smile never leaving his lips. He can't help but wonder if you're mocking him as he leans forward, gaze still locked with yours.

"And what do the stories say about me, little wife?" His voice is low, a dangerous, frightening edge to it.

For seemingly the first time, you look your husband in the eye. One piercing violet eye stares back, the other covered by his customary eyepatch. "They say you're a fearsome warrior, one of the strongest swordsmen alive. And they say.... they say you killed that boy. Rhaenyra's son...."

Aemond’s eye narrows. There is so much uncertainty in that gaze of yours, something about your innocent face makes Aemond feel.... bad. His jaw clenches and he leans back.

"Lucerys Velaryon. Yes, I did kill him. Though I didn't mean to.... I lost control."

"You didn't?" Your eyes narrow as well, suspicious of him. "Then.... what did you mean to do?"

Your husband lets out a long sigh and crosses his arms. "I meant to scare him. I was.... angry. I wanted to teach him a lesson, to frighten and humiliate him. And I did not have such good control over Vhagar as I do now...."

At the mention of his dragon, you perk up - that's one thing you've always been curious about. The Targaryen dragons are so beautiful and powerful; you would love to ride one one day, if given the chance.

"So your dragon, she disobeyed you?"

Aemond is clearly taken aback by your interest in Vhagar. For a moment, it seemed you forgot you were supposed to be scared of him. He tries to hide the hint of surprise flickering across his face.

"Well, yes and no," Aemond says, diplomatic. "Vhagar is a very old and powerful dragon, and she is used to doing what she wants. Sometimes.... it's difficult for any Targaryen to control a dragon, even the strongest of riders."

You are positively fascinated, hearing about Vhagar, leaning in toward Aemond without realizing. "What is it like, riding her? Does it ever get cold, so high up?"

Aemond can smell your perfume as you lean toward him, a mix of jasmine and honey, faint yet sweet. He clears his throat.

"Riding Vhagar is like nothing else," he tells you. "And yes, it does get cold at times, but the feeling of the wind in your hair and the power of the dragon beneath you is.... indescribable."

"Do you think she'd let me ride her?" At this point, you're nearly nose to nose with Aemond, eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Or do they only let Targaryens?"

Aemond freezes, gaze still locked with yours, your heads so close together that he can feel your breath ghost across his lips. He is surprised by your question and even more surprised by how badly he wants to fulfill the request.

"They only let Targaryens ride them, yes," he says, voice sounding much huskier than he intends. "But.... I'm sure Vhagar wouldn't mind letting someone else ride her.... if I were to accompany them."

"Would you?" You reach out, hand finding his thigh and giving a thankful squeeze. Realizing what you've done, how close you've become to him, you quickly snatch that hand back as though Aemond is on fire. "I'm so sorry...."

Aemond’s eye widens; for a heartbeat, your touch sent a shock through his entire body.

"It's alright." His voice is rough. “Don’t apologize....” He catches your wrist gently, before you can pull your hand away completely. "It was.... nice."

You tense, wrist caught in his strong embrace. "What are you doing?"

For a long moment, Aemond doesn't respond, simply staring at your slender wrist in his hand. Your skin is so smooth, so soft. He can feel your pulse beating against his palm, fast and fluttering like the wings of a small bird.

"Doing?" He finally asks, looking up at you with a sly smile. "Just.... holding your hand, that’s all."

"Holding my.... oh." All things considered, Aemond is handsome, you suppose. With his long silver hair, that chiseled jaw, the little moue of his lips. "You.... you really aren't all that scary, are you?"

Chuckling softly, Aemond's fingers gently stroke the skin of your wrist. Your words, spoken almost as a question, take him by surprise.

"I'm not trying to scare you," he says, his voice low and slightly amused. "And I don’t want to be scary, to you. Can I be honest with you, little wife?"

You nod, letting him continue to stroke that sensitive bit of skin around your wrist. He is very gentle, which has taken you by surprise.

"The truth is," he mutters, "I don't like it when you're scared of me. I don't like the way you look at me, as if you think I'm going to pounce on you and tear you apart at any moment. That's not what I want."

Slowly, still wary of him, you curl your fingers around his thumb and Aemond's breath hitches. Your hand is small compared to his; Aemond's fingers look massive beside yours.

"Everyone else seems so frightened of you. I thought.... I should be as well. I didn't know, that you hadn't meant to kill that boy. Have you told anyone else that?"

“No,” he says after a moment. “No one else knows. I haven't told anyone.”

He pauses, looking down at your hand in his. His other hand comes to trap your fingers inside of his palms, his thumbs tracing back and forth over your skin. “You’re the first I've shared this with.”

"You should tell others, that way no one will be scared of you."

Aemond lets out a soft chuckle, his gaze still fixed on your fingers intertwined with his own.

“I quite like others being afraid of me,” he admits. The smile on his face fades, just a bit, in the flickering candlelight. “But not you.”

"Not me?" You query, a sweet blush rising high on your cheeks. "Why not me?"

Aemond’s eye is drawn to that color blooming across your cheeks, the innocent flush sending a strange feeling coursing through him. He continues to stroke your wrist in a gentle, almost reverent, way.

"A wife should not be afraid of her husband," he says finally, his voice soft. "She should be worshipped by him....”

Slowly, so as not to startle you, he brings your wrist to his lips and places a gentle kiss there.

You lick your lips, nervous as all seven hells with the way things are going. Not only are you still afraid of Aemond - though growing less so by the moment - you have also never been close like this with anyone else before.

"And why.... why is it so important for other people to be afraid of you?"

Aemond’s lips linger over your skin, the faintest ghost of a smile there. He can feel the way your hand trembles slightly in his, the nervous flutter of your pulse against his fingertips. But he also notices how you don’t draw back, how you sit still and allow him to hold you.

“It's.... payback, almost,” he confesses. “For the torment I suffered as a child. It is better to be feared than loved - no one will ever again treat me the way they did when I was young.”

You are not aware of any torment in Aemond's childhood, though that isn't saying much. Of course the Targaryens keep much of what goes on between them a secret. Even now that you're married, you're hardly privy to all - or even most - of their secrets.

"Is that.... how this happened?" Shaking ever so slightly, you raise a hand to Aemond's face, fingers stroking the strap of his eyepatch.

As your slender fingers brushed against the edge of it, Aemond tenses, every muscle in his body going taut. No one has ever touched him there before, and it's an unfamiliar intimacy.

He closes his eye for a moment, trying to control his reaction, before speaking. “Yes,” he says, his voice thick with emotions he finds difficult to name. “That's how this happened.”

You feel for Aemond; having to grow up that way must have been torture.

Pulling your hand gently from his grasp, you bring both up to hook beneath the rough leather strap. "May I?"

His breathing hitches as your hands tug gently at the straps of his eyepatch. He knows your touch is innocent.... but no one has ever dared to remove it for him before. He nods once, his voice low.

“You may.”

With fierce concentration and a desire not to ruin his perfect hair, you slide the eyepatch up and off, gasping at the gorgeous sapphire glimmering where his eye should be.

"Gods, it's beautiful, Aemond." Letting the patch rest in your lap, you run your fingers lightly over the scar tissue below Aemond's eye. "Who did this to you?"

Aemond's breath hitches again, rougher this time, as he feels the tips of your slender fingers graze the scarred tissue around his eye, the touch stirring something deep within him. The feeling of your touch against the sensitive skin there is almost overwhelming.

He swallows hard, that old pain and anger bubbling up inside of him.

"My.... nephew," he finally says, his voice surprisingly even. "Lucerys Velaryon."

You inhale sharply; all you can think of is that if Aemond had really meant to kill the boy, he would have been well within his right to, after having been mutilated like this.

Grabbing for his hands, you hurry to say something. "Aemond, I-"

But your husband cuts you off. "There is one other reason it's important for others to be afraid of me."

"A-And what is that?" You ask, holding his hands close to your bosom.

"So that I can protect my wife, and my family." That sapphire is positively glowing in the light of the flickering candles. "The more afraid people are of me, the less likely they are to try and harm me, or you, or our family.... once we make one...."

His declaration takes all the air from your lungs, and you find it hard to breathe. "If I had known all of this, I.... I would never have been so frightened of you. I'm sorry, Aemond."

You cast around desperately for something else to say, some other way to apologize.

"Do not apologize."

His voice is gentle, yet firm. Your hands are still holding his against your breast, and he can feel the warmth of your skin even through the layers of your gown, the rapid beat of your heart.

"You didn't know, it is not your fault for being afraid," he soothes you. "But.... now that you know.... may I ask you something else?"

You nod, eager now to answer Aemond's questions and to ask more of your own - you want to learn so much more about him.

Aemond's fingers tighten around yours, the feel of your soft skin against his own sending a strange heat through his veins. He draws you in a little closer, his face now so close to yours that he can feel the warmth of your breath, that same scent of sweet honey and jasmine in your hair.

"You.... have not shied away from my scar, or my missing eye," he says, his voice a low whisper. "You have touched them, caressed them even.... why?"

Why...? You find it odd he even has to ask.

"Because I think they make you beautiful. Is that wrong?"

Your thumbs find his wrists now, pressing in against his pulse points, which are fluttering erratically.

Aemond's breath catches in his throat, the feeling of your dainty thumbs resting against his wrists, feeling the rapid beating of his pulse, setting his skin on fire. Your words, declaring him beautiful, ring in his ears, stirring something deep within his chest.

"Be-Beautiful?" He repeats, his voice a terrible croak. No one.... no one has ever called him beautiful. The word sounds strange in his ears, as if they're not meant for someone like him.

You nod, and after only a momentary hesitation, you bring one hand up again to his scar. This time, brushing the side closest to his hairline, a few strands of long silver hair getting in the way.

"Beautiful, Aemond. You're beautiful. I mean.... I did always think that. Just.... was too afraid of you to tell you. Do you forgive me?"

Aemond's breath hitches once more as your fingers stroke his hair, your soft touch sending a shiver down his spine. No one, no one, has ever touched his scar with such tenderness, such care.

"I.... I forgive you," he whispers, voice raw. "And for what it's worth.... I'm sorry, that I.... that I made you afraid of me. I never wanted that, I swear."

"I know. It wasn't even your fault, really." You roll your eyes, relaxing against the back of the settee. "I was just.... assuming that what everyone else said was true. Which is a terrible thing, really. My parents raised me much better than that."

A particularly chilly gust of wind blows in through the window and you wrap your arms around yourself. "I have to admit, I thought if my shenanigans went on much longer, you'd be forced to.... well, force yourself on me...."

Aemond is silent, as if that thought, the notion of forcing himself on you, is something he refuses to even consider. He turns to look at you, the pale glow of his sapphire eye giving him an otherworldly appearance.

"I.... I would never force you to do anything, little wife, not ever," he says, his voice low and serious. "I believe the first time a man and wife.... are together.... it should be.... enjoyable.... for both of them."

Suddenly, all words are caught in your throat. The thought of your first time with Aemond still makes you nervous, even knowing that he would never want to do anything against your will.

"I thought.... a woman's first time was always painful?" That's what you've always been told. You have never done anything of the sort, but perhaps Aemond knows better.

At your words, Aemond's jaw tightens. His fingers clench into a fist, the thought of you in pain during your first time together sending a wave of anger through him.

"No. No, never. It shouldn't be painful, not unless you don't want it, too," he says, his voice low and urgent. "Your first time should be.... enjoyable. Pleasant. I would never take you simply for my own pleasure. I would make sure you...." he falters.

Flinching slightly away from him at the sight of his hand in a fist, you gasp softly. Have you said something wrong?

Still, you dare to ask, "You would make sure I what?"

In the candlelight, Aemond's eye flashes dangerously and that sapphire blazes.

He takes a very deep breath, forcing himself to relax, to open his hand again. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, "I.... I don't like the idea of hurting you, it.... makes me angry."

He looks down at you again.

"I would make sure that you.... felt pleasure as well. It wouldn't be about me. It's about both of us."

If you had known how protective Aemond was of you, you would have asked him about these things sooner. He is, after all, the only person you can think to ask. If you can't discuss bedroom matters with your husband, who can you discuss them with?

"How does it feel?" You ask him softly, scooting closer to him on the settee. "When you have sex, how does it feel?"

Aemond is taken somewhat off guard by the sudden question, his cheeks going pink at your unexpected candor, but he doesn't back down. He doesn't want to shy away from your questions, not when you're so close to him, peering at him through those wide, innocent eyes.

He takes another deep breath, shifting on the settee so he can face you fully.

"it.... it feels.... good," he begins, his voice a low rumble. "It feels.... full. Warm. Tight. But.... good. More than good, especially when you do it with someone you care about. It feels safe, like nothing can hurt you ever again."

The look on Aemond's face as he speaks is one you've never seen before - something vulnerable and almost childlike staring back at you. You wonder how you could ever have been afraid of him.

"And you? Who was your first time with?"

As your question hangs in the air between the two of you, Aemond goes stock-still. No one has ever asked him that before.

He hesitates for a moment, peering warily at you. "Why.... why do you want to know?" He asks finally, voice cautious.

Now you know you've definitely said something wrong. "I was just curious," you hurry to tell him. "It's wrong of me to pry, I'm sorry...."

Aemond sighs softly, shaking his head. "No, no, don't apologize," he says, his voice a light simper now. He reaches out, taking your hand gently in his.

"It's okay, I just.... wasn't expecting you to ask that." He pauses, and you can see a flicker of something run across his face. "You.... you really want to know?"

"I do," you admit bashfully. "If you feel comfortable telling me?"

Aemond's hand grips yours a little tighter, your words sending a strange, tight feeling through hm. He hasn't thought about that night in a long time, and the memory is still painful enough to make him wince.

"All right," he says, letting out a slow breath. "I.... I'll tell you. Just.... just don't.... don't judge me, all right?"

"I won't judge," you assure him with a shake of your head.

Aemond looks down at your intertwined hands, his fingers tracing a light pattern against your palm. He closes his eye, gathering his thoughts, before lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a barely-there kiss to your knuckles.

"My.... my first time," he begins, and his voice is rough, "was with a whore, in a pleasure house, at the behest of my brother who frequented - and still frequents - them much more than I did."

"I don't think that's anything to be ashamed of," you admit, mulling the idea over. "Most men visit those types of places at some point in their lives.... don't they?"

Aemond pauses for a moment, his eye locking with yours. He looks almost surprised by your response, as if he hadn't thought you would be so blasé about the situation.

"Yes...." he says slowly, "they do. But.... it's not.... it's not the sort of thing a wife would expect to hear, about their husband's past exploits."

You chew your lip thoughtfully, running your fingers around and through the spaces between Aemond's. "I don't mind, as long as...."

You hesitate, wondering if you really want to say this now or leave it for another night. "What I mean to say, Aemond, is that.... now that we understand each other better.... perhaps you can show me what it's like? Sex? And, if you do, I expect there to be no more pleasure houses in your future, is that clear?"

Aemond's gaze darkens as your words register, his heart stuttering in his chest. His fingers twitch against yours, breath catching in his throat.

"You.... you want me to show you...?" He repeats weakly, his eye wide and disbelieving.

You close your fingers tightly around Aemond's now, leaning in toward your husband. "Mm. But as I said, you must promise - no more pleasure houses. After all, you did say you want to worship me, did you not?"

Aemond's head swims with your words, his heart hammering in his chest so hard it's difficult to catch his breath. The way you're looking at him, the sweetness in your voice, the scent of honey and jasmine in your hair.... all of it is almost too much to bear.

He swallows hard, and nods. "No more pleasure houses. I promise," he whispers, his voice hoarse and rough.

His oath sets you at ease, but there's one more thing you must tell him.

"I must admit, Aemond, I'm still scared...."

He looks about to interrupt, but you cut him off. "Oh, not of you. I'm.... terrified of the pain. I've never done well with pain, and I'm so scared it's going to hurt like hell."

Aemond's heart twists at the worry and fear in your voice, his fingers tightening over yours. He hates the thought of you being scared, hates his own inability to take that fear away from you.

"Why do you still think it's going to be painful?" He asks quietly.

Instead of making you feel trapped, his fingers around yours make you feel safe. Aemond is lethal; you can see it in his face, in the hard line of his body. But he wants to use all of that to protect you....

Though what could he possibly do to prevent his own body from hurting you, even though he might not mean to?

"That's all I've ever been told." You gulp. "A woman's first time is always painful. And.... There's always blood."

Aemond's jaw clenches in anger. He doesn't know who planted these false, hurtful notions in your head, but he wants to tear them limb from limb.

He reaches out to you, tilting your head gently up to meet his gaze. "No. No, no, no," he says, his voice low and intense. "It's not supposed to be painful, especially the first time. You've just.... you've been told wrong."

He pauses. "Sometimes there is blood, I won't lie to you about that. But there are ways to minimize the chance of that."

Aemond's fingers start to skirt back and forth under your chin. "How .... How can we stop there being so much blood? I want you to show me."

Heart now beating much faster, Aemond's stomach twists with a mixture of desire and trepidation. He swallows, hard, his eye dark and heavy-lidded as he gazes down at you.

He runs his fingers through your hair, the soft feel of it against his skin maddening. "I can show you," he murmurs, "but.... you have to trust me."

"Of course. I do now." You turn your face toward his hand, palm skimming your cheek as he touches your hair. "I know you'll take care of me."

He takes another deep breath to steady himself, his hand coming to rest against the side of your face, thumb tracing the line of your jaw. "Good," he whispers, "because I will, always. But there's something.... something I need to know first."

You shiver, Aemond's fingers reverent along your cheek and jaw. "What is it?"

Fingers now trailing down your neck, he pauses, hand coming to rest on your collarbone, your pulse beating fast and hard against his palm.

Aemond leans in close, his voice a rumble in your ear. "You.... you have never even been touched, have you?"

You are very aware of how hard your heart is beating, thumping underneath his fingers. "I haven't.... is that bad?"

Aemond breathes heavily, pulling back to look at you.

"No," he says emphatically, "it's not bad. It's.... it's just...." He trails off for a moment, struggling to find the words. "I need to know.... if you're still.... if you're still intact."

The question makes you blush furiously, looking down at your laps, side by side, so you don't have to look Aemond in the eye. "I.... yes.... isn't that where the blood comes from?"

You don't know much, but you do know that.

He places two fingers gently under your chin, coaxing you to look up at him again.

"Yes," he says, "that's where the blood comes from. But it can break in other ways. For instance, from fingers or.... other objects." His fingers trace along your cheek, obviously trying to soothe your growing discomfort at this conversation.

"But it.... it doesn't have to," he adds after a moment.

You chuckle, reluctantly meeting Aemond's gaze. "Can we try?"

He takes a moment to steady himself, his hand now trailing back down your neck, slowly caressing. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

You nod fervently, gripping onto his wrist. "Positively. Now that I understand you better, I can think of no one else I'd like to teach me such things...."

He leans in, lips brushing your ear again, breath hot against your skin. "Then I will," he murmurs, his voice an uneven, ragged whisper, "I will show you. And I will take my time."

Long have you waited for someone to come along and share this experience with you. When you were initially betrothed to Aemond, you thought all hope was lost - he was so frightening and the thought of sharing a bed with him sent a shiver of panic through you.

But now.... Women have desires just as much as men do, surely... At least you know you do. And Aemond is offering to take care of them for you....

You steady yourself with a hand on Aemond's chest, nails digging into the soft cotton of his tunic. "Please.... I want it."

Aemond's stomach clenches, your soft, pleading voice sending a bolt of white hot desire through him.

"Patience," he murmurs, his sizeable palm laid against the back of your hand on his chest, "I'll take care of you, I promise. I just need you to relax for me, all right?"

"Mm, I'll try...." With another nod, you take a deep breath, shuddering at the feeling of Aemond's big hand covering yours entirely. "Maybe a drink would serve to relax me better...?"

This gives Aemond pause, and he pulls back slightly, his eye raking over your face, taking in the soft blush on your cheeks, the way your lips are parted as you catch your breath.

He gives a single, slow nod. "Yes," he admits, "I think a drink might help."

Without another word, he moves to a small table on the other side of the room, pouring you each a generous glass of sweet wine.

As he does so, you finger the pendant at your throat, a gift from your late mother. The way Aemond looks at you; any woman would be lucky to have a husband who looks at her that way. Like you're precious, like he would do anything to protect you.

Once offered your glass, you take it and swallow a large mouthful, hoping to get drunk as quickly as possible, to make this whole ordeal more bearable.

Aemond watches you closely, a small frown tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sees you gulp the wine so quickly. He knows you're trying to get drunk, trying to use the alcohol as a crutch to make this easier.

"There's no need to rush," he says quietly, taking a seat beside you again, his knee bumping yours. He lifts his own glass to his lips, taking a slow, measured drink.

Swallowing another substantial mouthful of wine, you furtively watch the way Aemond's lips purse around the rim of his glass.

You smooth the skirts of your dress down, taking a deep breath. "I just want to be as relaxed as possible for you, Aemond."

He continues to watch you, that striking violet eye taking in every tiny detail - the way your fingers grasp the fabric of your dress, the soft movement of your body underneath the silk.

He takes a deep breath, his eye watching you as he drains the last of the wine from the glass. "I know," he murmurs, his voice a husky rumble, "but there's no need to get completely drunk, my love."

"It can't hurt." You upend the first glass of wine, draining the last dregs, and hold your glass out toward him. "Another?"

Apparently highly amused, Aemond raises a brow, but refuses to pour you another.

"I think that's quite enough. There's no need to be quite so drunk tonight, I promise."

You pout, setting your glass aside, but starting to feel a pleasant warmth wash over you from the first glass all the same.

"How do we start?" You question, leaning in close to him. Aemond smells of chamomile and sweat and.... maybe just a hint of blood? It's the best thing you've ever smelled.

Aemond reaches for you suddenly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you gently onto his lap so you can straddle him.

The next breath he takes rattles through him as you settle on top of him, his hands gripping your waist, heart beating fast. "We.... we start here," he whispers, his voice a rough murmur.

"Goodness," you breathe, hands curling over his shoulders to steady yourself. "And.... what do we do here?"

You're trying your best to be brave, and the wine is making it easier, but there is still that niggling worry at the back of your mind, chanting blood blood blood.

Aemond feels that slight tremble in your hands as you grab his shoulders, the way you hesitate and swallow nervously as you ask your question. He can practically hear your thoughts racing, paying attention to the fear and trepidation in your words.

He leans in close, hands slipping from your waist to bracket your ribs, pulling you flush against him, your body cradled easily in his lap. "We start like this," he murmurs, his fingers gently tilting your chin up to look at him. "Just like this."

Slowly, fingers gentle but firm on your chin, he's bringing you in for a kiss.

The sound that leaves your mouth at the first dry press of your lips together is embarrassing. You curse. "I'm sorry." You bite your lip hard, searching Aemond's one violet eye for forgiveness. "Can we try again?"

Aemond chuckles good-naturedly, hands coming up to cup your face, thumbs tracing slow, gentle patterns over your cheeks.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he whispers, leaning ever closer to you, his breath hot against your lips. "We can try as many times as you like, darling."

With a hand again around his wrist to steady yourself, you don't have far to go, what with Aemond's face so close to yours. You press your lips to his - soft yet firm. Your other hand slides up the outside of his thigh as you open your mouth under his, grateful for his willingness to teach you.

You hear Aemond's breath hitch again as he feels your hand moving up his leg, the touch of your slim, soft fingers against his body sending a shiver down his spine. He groans as you open your mouth, his tongue immediately seeking yours, tangling, tasting, claiming.

He grips your hair in one hand, angling your head back so he can deepen the kiss, his other hand back to gripping your hip, pulling you tighter against him.

You do the same, hands migrating down, loving the feeling of Aemond's slim, strong muscle under your fingers. As you kiss, you surreptitiously move the thin cloth of Aemond's tunic aside so you can touch him skin to skin over his sharp hipbones.

This earns you a keen inhale from your husband, who jerks away from you.

"I'm sorry," you breathe. "Is this okay?"

His mouth has opened in a gasp against yours, eyes squeezing shut.

When they open again, he merely looks at you, taking in the soft, pink flush of your cheeks, the way your pupils are thoroughly dilated, your chest heaving. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself. "Yes," he says ruggedly, his voice a scratchy gasp, "I'm sorry, it is. It's okay."

A flood of warmth washes over you, and you grin. You don't know why, but you want to kiss his neck.

Fingers digging hard into his hip, you lean in, nosing his long hair out of the way as your lips meet his neck, sucking and biting. Aemond tastes clean and faintly of rose water.

Aemond's head tips back immediately, giving your lips and teeth free reign over his neck, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh at the unfamiliar sensation. A soft, low moan escapes him as your mouth traces a path along the sensitive skin of his neck.

His body arches against yours. "My love," he gasps, his voice a ragged, breathless plea, "this is maddening."

"Need you to teach me," is your reply, pushing harder against him. "Don't go mad just yet."

He runs his hands down your sides, skimming over the soft, silky material of your dress, his body reacting powerfully to your closeness. "Gods, woman," he gasps, thumbs playing idly along the edge of your ribs, "are you sure you haven't done this before?"

You rest your cheek on Aemond's shoulder, nose brushing along the chiseled line of his jaw. "Positive," you sigh, arms now slung around him. "But I like the way you touch me. It's making me feel all hot and wet.... down there."

At this declaration, Aemond makes a noise you've never heard anyone make before. He nuzzles against your collarbone, pressing slow, hot kisses along the line of your chest just visible over the collar of your dress.

His mouth is starting to curve into a wicked smile. "Do you want me to touch you there, too?"

With a nod, you begin to pull the folds of your dress up over your thighs. "Please. The feeling down there, it's.... very insistent." And Aemond's fingers look perfectly long and warm and rough with calluses.

Aemond swallows hard as he watches the fabric of your dress retreat up over your thighs, the soft, bare skin of your legs suddenly exposed to him. His gaze rakes over you, taking in every detail - the soft, pale flesh, the way the candlelight casts shadows over the curves of your body.

As though trying not to startle you, Aemond runs his knuckles painstakingly slowly up the inside of your thigh. "When we were first betrothed, I knew I had gotten lucky."

That drunken haze still hovering around you, you let your legs slip further apart around him. "Lucky? How so?"

His hand moves further up, touch feather-light against her skin. "Lucky," he murmurs, "because I knew I'd be marrying the most beautiful woman in all Seven Kingdoms."

He lets his hand move higher still, fingers stopping just before they reach the edge of your smallclothes. He pauses, looking intently at you, the question plain on his face.

"I never knew you thought I was beautiful...." You lean more against him, feeling impossibly safe and comfortable in his embrace. "Please. You can."

Hips canting forward, you try to push his hand in toward you.

"The most beautiful," he replies. He can feel your hips moving subtly against his, feel his own desire rising with every move you make.

Those long fingers hook into the edge of your smallclothes, running the backs of his knuckles along the sensitive bit of skin he finds there.

Your eyes flutter shut, the feeling of his gentle fingers finally scooping up under your dress making your stomach flip nervously. "Please." The word is uttered against Aemond's chin, where you've pressed your lips as you wait to feel his hand where you need it most.

As slowly as he an manage, he insinuates those fingers fully inside your smallclothes. He can feel the heat of your skin, the way you squirm in his lap as he moves closer to his destination, his own body reacting strongly to the anticipation.

He leans in, mouth finding yours in a heated, hungry kiss, his fingers finally, finally touching that wet, sensitive flesh between your thighs.

A sharp inhale accompanies the meeting of Aemond's hand to your sex. Everything down there feels so wet already, you suppose you should be embarrassed, but the wine is making it hard to feel so, which you're grateful for.

"Aemond...." Seeking his lips for another kiss, you mutter, "please don't stop."

One long finger sinks into your wet, hot flesh, his entire body shivering at the feeling of you beneath his hands. He lets out a ragged gasp as you kiss him, mouth moving fervently against yours, tongue delving into your mouth, tangling with yours.

With a low, gruff noise, he starts to move his finger inside of you, slow, gentle circles that make your muscles tighten and twitch against his hand. "I won't," he murmurs against your lips, his eyes squeezed shut, "I promise, I won't."

Aemond's finger has slid easily into you, all the way down to the knuckle. "Is it -?" You gasp, glancing down, tugging your skirts out of the way to see better. "It's inside? I thought it would be much more painful...."

You know it might not be the same with his manhood, which is surely a fair bit bigger than one of his fingers, but you're glad things have gone smoothly so far all the same.

Aemond's other hand presses itself solidly against that little bundle of nerves, the one you're familiar with, the one that makes you see stars, and you bite his lower lip a little too hard in response.

"Shit, sorry."

Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your reaction, his lips curving into a smile against your mouth. "No need to apologize, sweet girl," he mutters. "There's a possibility it might hurt more than this when we go further, but I promise I'll be gentle."

He moves his finger in and out of you slowly, his other hand still pressing against you, the pad of his thumb circling that swollen bud, his touch gentle but firm. "How does this feel?"

A pang of fear shoots through you at his declaration that you will likely be in pain later on, but it's soothed by the way Aemond's fingers are gently coaxing themselves inside of you and over your clit.

"It feels perfect, Aemond. I never even knew it could feel this good." Not even when you'd touched yourself in bed at night.

Aemond's eye darkens as he hears your words, the sound of your voice, gutted and breathless, making his stomach clench. "This is just the beginning, sweet girl. There's so much more I can show you."

He slips another finger into you, feeling your body tighten and go taut around him, his own body still reacting powerfully to the sight and feel of you. He leans in to kiss you again, his mouth hungrily claiming yours.

With another finger inside, you start to squirm in his lap, and your hand slips, colliding with something hard inside of Aemond's trousers.

"Aemond," you gasp, "it.... it's hard."

Aemond lets out a strangled noise as your hand brushes against him, his body shuddering, his eye squeezing shut. "Ah, shit, sweetheart," he gasps, his breath ragged, "Don't do that."

He looks at you, his breath coming in quick, rough pants, his eye darkened to a deep, intense violet. "I'm going to be patient with you."

He says this like he's trying to convince himself of it.

"I'm sorry," you gasp again, hands flying to your mouth. "I didn't mean to touch it...."

Gaze flickering to the windows, to the Targaryen flags flying from every turret, you stifle a smile. "But maybe.... maybe you don't have to be so patient...."

Aemond growls at your words, fingers slowing their ministrations over you. "How impatient would you have me be?"

You reach down to take his free hand - the one currently touching your clit in nice, soft circles - in yours, lacing your fingers as you lean into him. "Still gentle, just.... Maybe lead me? Show me how things like this should be done."

Aemond can practically feel his self-restraint slipping at your words, the feeling of your small, soft hand in his making his head spin. He takes a deep breath, trying desperately to maintain control, to keep up the facade of gentility.

He grips your chin with his free hand, lifting your face to meet his eye, his voice low and rough. "Are you sure you're ready for that?" He asks, the question almost pained.

"I am. I'm sure." You wrap your shoulders around him, burying your face against his neck. "Take me to bed and show me, please."

Aemond swallows hard, the feeling of your breath against him sending a shudder through him. Lifting you easily in his arms, he stands silently from the settee.

The loss of Aemond's fingers from inside of you makes you whine, clinging to his broad shoulders as he makes his way to the bed.

He lays you gently down, crawling over you, hand once again trailing up the soft expanse of your thigh.

"Aemond...."

A sweet noise rumbles through him as he positions himself on top of you, body pressing you down against the covers, hips slotting between your legs. His gaze as he looks down on you is fiery, eye raking over your body, hands gripping and kneading the supple flesh of your thighs.

"You drive me mad, do you know that?" He murmurs. He leans down to kiss your neck, his mouth hot and insistent against your skin.

With Aemond on top of you, you reach around to tug the back of his tunic up, skimming your fingers along the warm skin of his lower back.

"Why did you never.... tell me before?" You mutter quietly, nibbling at Aemond's earlobe.

Aemond allows himself a deep moan as you touch him, your fingers roaming over his skin, your mouth on his ear. He rolls his hips against you, the aching hardness of his body weighing you down.

"Gods, I don't know," he gasps, his hands roaming over the soft curves of your body. "Maybe I could tell you were afraid of me. Maybe I was a fool."

"I suppose we both were fools." You curl your tongue around Aemond's ear, teasing.

His hardness is pressing insistently against you through your clothes. Aemond leans his forehead to yours. "I'm going to take your dress off now. Is that alright?"

You've never been naked in front of anyone before, but Aemond is making you feel so safe that you nod hurriedly, sitting up. "Yes, please."

Aemond's eye darkens at your nod, his hands immediately going to the laces of your dress, working them loose until the fabric falls away from your body. He lets his gaze roam over your exposed skin, his fingers tracing the soft planes of your body, reverent and gentle.

"Seven Hells," he mutters, his voice a ragged whisper, "I've never seen anything so perfect."

The wine allows you to feel comfortable enough to stretch out over top of your discarded dress, staring up at him over the swell of your breasts. "Don't you want to touch your perfect wife, Aemond?"

"Of course I do," he mutters. He moves aside only slightly, letting his fingers scrape over one of your hardened nipples. "I want to touch every part of you."

You arch into his touch, his fingertips hard and callused against your sensitive nipple. "Aemond.... Would I be a complete whore if I asked for your fingers back inside of me?"

"No," he mutters easily, a hand running its way down your body, the other holding himself above you. "No, you wouldn't. But I want you to ask for it, my love. I want you to tell me exactly what you want."

Your breathing quickening, the air in the room thick and heavy, you spread your legs around him, unabashed. "i want you to touch me. To touch my stomach, my hips and thighs .... my cunt. Please."

Aemond makes a ragged noise at your request, his body shuddering as you open yourself to him. He trails his hand lower, his fingers grazing over your stomach, trailing over your hips and thighs, before coming to rest between your legs.

He lets that hand rest on your for a moment, feeling your wetness, his violet eye dark and full of lust. "Is this what you wanted, darling?"

"Yes," comes your voice, wrecked, entire body feeling overheated and overwhelmed already. "Gods, Aemond, I.... I'm sorry I didn't ask for this earlier."

You run your hands up Aemond's toned arms, tugging on the short sleeves of his tunic. "M-May I take this off?"

Feeling you tug at his tunic, Aemond nods, loving that ragged and pleading tone in your voice. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, can see the raw, pleading look in your eyes, and he's never been more turned on in his life.

By way of a real answer, he reaches down and hooks his fingers under the hem of his shirt to rip it off over his head. He shakes his hair out majestically, making you giggle.

But after that giggle.... You can do nothing but lay beneath him and stare. His body is perfect, abs cut into his skin above the smooth, narrow line of his hips.

"Goodness ...." You whisper, fingertips prodding at his hardened stomach. "You're.... actually perfect."

"Perfect, really?" He replies, clearly perplexed. "I'd say I'm looking at perfection right now."

You whimper, Aemond's moist lips once more at your neck, his body pressed to yours. "How do you.... get your body to look that way? Maybe you can teach me that too, as well as how to ride a dragon."

Aemond laughs softly, his teeth scraping against you as he kisses down your neck. "It's actually quite simple," he murmurs, his hands roaming over your body, arms caging you in against the bed. "Just a lot of sword practice and fighting."

He pauses, his lips trailing teasingly over the line of your jaw. "I'm going to teach you to ride more than just a dragon, my love."

"I could sword fight." Your voice doesn't sound like it ever has before. "Easy. Train me."

You gasp at his words, nails now digging into his back. "And what else are you going to teach me to ride, husband?"

Aemond lets out a low chuckle at your response, his muscles coiling where your nails dig into his skin. He rolls his hips against you and makes you gasp.

"I can teach you how to ride me," he mutters, his voice a rough, ragged whisper. "Or maybe you'd like a ride on my face."

Your eyes go wide, and you press him away by the shoulder just so you can look him in the eye. "I.... I'm allowed to do that?"

You've never heard of this - using your mouth? Why have you never thought of it before?

"Of course you are," he murmurs, looking bemusedly down on you. "And I would be more than happy to let you."

His hot breath whispers over your skin as he leans to speak into your ear. "You've never heard of it before, have you?"

"I haven't." You tilt your head, fingers tender along Aemond's jaw. "How should I.... How do I do it?"

Aemond's eye closes at the feeling of your fingers, tender on his jaw, your touch ever gentle and caressing. He makes a very small noise and shudders over top of you. "It's easy, darling."

"I just lean back here...." With one swift movement, Aemond rolls and settles himself against the pillows. "You come up here...."

Gentle but insistent hands guide you, pulling you all the way up. "And swing a leg over me."

Still helped along by his strong hands, you throw one knee on the opposite side of Aemond's head, bracketing his ears with your thighs. "Like.... this?"

This position makes you feel as nervous as you have all night, even with the aid of the wine - Aemond can see all of you. Truly all of you, and you can't quite meet his eye because of it.

Aemond's hands tighten on your thighs, his breathing growing ragged. He can sense your nervousness, the way your muscles are tensing up, the way you're avoiding his eye.

He rubs his hands soothingly across your thighs, trying to relax you. "That's it, darling." His voice is soft, comforting. "You look gorgeous."

You bite your lip, carding one hand through Aemond's alluring silver hair. The other you place over his good eye, the hint of a smile on your face as you mutter, "Don't look...."

Aemond smirks, and yanks you suddenly, roughly forward by the backs of your thighs, so that your womanhood is directly above his smirking lips. "As you wish."

He places a single, open-mouthed kiss to your clit and the suction, the wetness, of it all is enough to make you squeal.

There's one poignant moment where Aemond's intensely hot, wet mouth rests over your womanhood. Then, with a jagged moan, he begins to lave over you, lips, tongue, and teeth working in tandem.

His callused palms cradle the backs of your thighs, keeping you in place as his tongue works you over. And when that same tongue points itself deep inside of your core, you can no longer keep your hand over his eye, lest you want to smash your husband's head painfully into the sheets.

Instead, that hand flies to the headboard, holding on for dear life. "Gods, Aemond! I.... I've never felt anything like this, what.... what in the seven hells...."

Aemond redoubles his grip on your thighs, keeping you in place as he works you with his tongue, his mouth and teeth and lips bringing you to new heights of pleasure. He moans roughly, and the sound reverberates through you, making your mouth fall open.

"Just... relax, my love," he mutters against your folds, "I did say I would worship you, did I not?"

You nod, still petting a hand gently through Aemond's hair, coiling your fingers around the strands, feeling how soft it is. Your eyes, however, are trained on the gilded ceiling when you answer.

"Y-You did, but.... this.... I didn't even know this was a thing people did. Is this.... common?"

"No, sweet one," he mutters, his voice thick with desire and - somewhere - a hint of disdain, "it isn't common. Most men see their wives as something to be claimed, conquered. And I...."

"You see them as something to be worshipped," you answer, remembering his words from earlier.

Aemond lets out a low chuckle against you as you knot your fingers in his hair, his tongue continuing to lathe across you. He lifts his head for a moment, his lips and chin glistening, a smirk on his face. "Look at me."

You do, and are rewarded with his fingers climbing the insides of your thighs, splaying themselves over you. "You are the most exquisite creature I've ever laid eyes on."

The sight of his face, so slick with you, his eye dark, his sapphire glinting, his fingers roaming over your thighs, it all makes you shiver, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps.

"And you," he continues, voice muffled against your folds, "you taste divine."

And without another word, he dives back in, his tongue delving into you once more, his hands gripping your thighs, bringing you lower, closer to him.

All of this - Aemond telling you how beautiful you are, his talented mouth on you, the haze of the wine moving through you - has you tumbling toward the edge quicker than you've ever done so by yourself.

"Aemond.... close!" You give a hard tug to Aemond's hair, warning him.

He closes his eyes as he focuses on nothing more than bringing you further to the edge, the heat of your body and the taste of you driving him wild, pushing him to give you more, more, more.

"Just.... let go," he mutters against you. "I want you to let go for me, my sweet."

You're trembling now, hips riding down against his face of their own accord. "Oh, gods...." You've never done this in front of anyone before. What will Aemond think of the way you climax? Will it be embarrassing? "Aemond...."

There's no longer any time to think it over, though, as one last swipe of his tongue sends you spiraling with a loud cry.

Aemond's heart is pounding hard, watching you cum, his eye wide and alight with desire as he watches your body shudder and shake above him, your cry of pleasure filling the room and, undoubtedly, the hallways around it.

He helps you ride out the wave of pleasure, his tongue slowly bringing you back down, peppering your thighs and hip bones with hot, open-mouthed kisses.

Your eyes fluttering, your chest heaving, Aemond coaxes you through your first climax with him and then maneuvers you down to lay beside him. You feel so boneless, you sure you aren't much help in this endeavor.

"That was...." You don't even have the words to describe what just happened to you.

Aemond watches you closely as you lay beside him, breasts rising and falling heavily, your skin flushed and marked all over with his mouth, one hand trailing lightly over your stomach. The sight of you, well-loved and satisfied, makes his chest burn with desire.

He leans in close to you, curling his body around yours like a protective shield. His mouth trailing over your neck, his voice a quiet whisper. "That was beautiful. And we're only getting started."

You gaze at him out of half-lidded eyes, your body already feeling drained from just one round. "What...." You stifle a yawn behind your hand, trying to hide it. "What's next?"

Aemond laughs at the sight of you yawning, both hands now brushing over your body, his touch gentle. He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, hear the tiredness in your voice.

He leans down and presses a loving kiss to your forehead. "I don't think you're quite ready for more yet, my love. You look like you're barely awake."

Through your tiredness, you whine, "But you promised to show me. What it's like...." You're pressing sleepy kisses to Aemond's jaw, lips sweeping down over his neck.

Aemond's lashes flutter at your tiny kisses, his arms curling strong and protective around you. He makes an odd noise, and you realize you may have had an orgasm, but he never did.

"I can take care of it for you." Searching down below, hands clumsy and heavy with sleep, you feel Aemond grab for your wrist.

"And you will," he mutters, admonishing. "But tonight it's getting late, and you're tired. We have our whole lives together, we need not rush this."

Another yawn overtakes you, and you snuggle down into his warmth. "Tomorrow, then?" You mumble, arms slung lazily around him. "And dragon riding tomorrow, too...."

Aemond chuckles again at your insistence, hands gently rubbing themselves over your body, comforting you. He shifts back on the bed, pulling you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as possible.

"Of course, my love," he murmurs, his voice a gentle, soothing rumble in your ear. "Tomorrow. And dragon riding, too. But for now, you need to sleep."

Aemond runs the very tips of his fingers up and down your back, just along your spine.

"I really am sorry, Aemond...." You're already half asleep, struggling to stay awake, to get the words out. "D'you really forgive me?"

Aemond sighs.

"Of course I forgive you," he whispers, breath tickling your ear. "It's all in the past now, my love. The only thing that matters is you and me, right here, right now. And dragon riding tomorrow, I promise...."

#aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon smut #ewan mitchell x reader #ewan mitchell #smut #aegonstradwife #my writing #request fill #i posted this earlier today and it got flagged bc i included a naughty pic #it wasn't even that naughty but o well #hope you enjoy!

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