summary: You're not ready for Billy to leave just yet.
pairing: Billy x fem!Reader
warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - absolute filth with no plot whatsoever, smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving)
word count: 2k
note: belated Christmas gift for my ride or die @undertheorangetree
note: hope you enjoy!
link to other stories from me!
To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on đ
âIâll be heading out now,â Billy calls from the other room.Â
You pout, staring at your reflection in the mirror as you begin to get dressed. Always on the move, your cowboy. Restless that one is. Youâd spent the night together, carried over the threshold by Billy after a long night out with friends. Youâd giggled all the while as he insisted on carrying you from your horse to the door.
âI can walkââ youâd tried to argue, but Billy insisted.
A night of passion and lovemaking ensued, then much too quickly the morning light came to steal him away. Just for the morning he assured you. He had some business to attend and then heâd be back in you arms.Â
Still, any amount of parting from him left an ache in your chest.
âCould you come help me first?â you call to him, facing the doorway.
Billy is quick to enter, buttoning his shirt while he does before meeting your eyes. It's only for a moment before his eyes drop to your scantily clad form, jaw slacking. Your cheeks warm as his eyes undress you further.Â
âYou lookâŠ,â he loses whatever words attempted to come to mind as you turn your back toward him, staring at his reflection through the mirror. You watch as he walks toward you, a lion stalking his prey.
His pupils dilate as you shakily inhale, breasts straining against the fabric of your bodice as your heart beats wildly. A new style, showing much more cleavage than youâd been used to. A change Billy seemed to appreciate.Â
âLace me up?â you murmur, a smile twitching on your lips as he staggers the rest of the way forward.
Hesitantly, he reaches for the laces, beginning to string them through the open holes. He pauses for a moment, fingertips caressing the smooth skin of your back. A shiver rolls down your spine, goosebumps rising on your flesh. A moment later he tentatively pulls, drawing the fabric together.Â
âHarder.â
His hands slip as you speak, nerves getting the better of him.Â
âWhat?â He asks, nearly choking on the word.
You wet your lips, trying to hide your smile before biting down hard on your lower lip. How you adore teasing him.
âYou have to pull harder.â
Billy leans closer, his chin nearly resting on your shoulder as he turns his lips against the sensitive patch of skin just below your ear.
âLike this?â he asks, just as he pulls, causing a gasp leaving your lips, âthat hard enough, doll?â
âYes,â you answer breathlessly, as his lips skim against the skin of your throat.
âYouâre sure?â he murmurs, his words finished with a kiss against your neck.Â
Your head falls back against him.
âMaybe a little harder,â you murmur. Billy wraps the silk once around his hand, tugging even harder than before. The bodice tightens significantly this time, the strength of Billyâs hands cinching your waist as small as your body allows.Â
Billy hums, securing the silk with a finishing bow, lips still pressed against your throat.
âThank you.â
You sound more breathless than youâd like, gazing at his expression in the mirror. His hands circle your waist, pressing you flush against him. One hand splays over your stomach and his jaw slacks as he meets your gaze. Thereâs fire in his blue eyes and you canât help but reach your hand up to caress his face.Â
Heâs so handsome. Too handsome, really, your vigilante.Â
âYouâre beautiful,â he says, voice rough as gravel, hands never leaving you, âGod, how did I get so lucky?â
âShouldnât you be off?â you ask, ignoring his praise.
He doesnât answer, simply tightens his hold on you, turning you to face him. His hand cups your cheek, the other resting against your lower back.Â
âBilly,â you scold, but your tone is teasing as he drags you toward the bed. He backs up until the back of his knees hit the mattress and he sits with a thud, both hands dropping to your waist.Â
âIâll be quick,â he promises, hands already pawing at your stockings, hoisting one of your legs to rest on the bed.
âYouâre never quick.â
âYou canât leave me like this,â he argues, rolling down your left stocking, revealing the soft flesh of your thigh, âThink I can leave without having a taste? Didnât think you were that cruel, darlinâ.â
âOh, Iâm cruel, am I?â you counter, unable to stop your smile, nor the shiver that rolls through you as he leans forward, pressing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.
A breathy sigh leaves your lips as his kisses trail inward down your thigh until he reaches the crease of your hip and hums.Â
âGod damn,â he murmurs, looking up at you, âYou drive me crazy, yâknow that?â
You bite your lip, nodding your head. His grip on your leg tightens, and suddenly, his arm circles your waist and he flips you onto the bed. You land on your back with a squeal before heâs on you, silencing your startled cry with a kiss.Â
Though his hands are rough he fingers grip your waist affectionately, thumbs brushing against your hip bones. He kisses you deeper, slotting himself between your legs, molding his lithe body against yours.Â
You can feel his desire pressing against you, hard and wanting as he grinds against you. Billy is never one to put his pleasure before yours. He kisses you once more before traveling lower, pushing your skits around your waist as his head lowers between your thighs.
You feel a sharp pinch and cry out at the sudden burst of pain.
Billy pokes his head up, hair ruffled and a lopsided curious smile on his face.Â
âWhereâre your bloomers?â
You grab a fist full of your skirts, thighs spread in invitation as you gleefully bite your lip.
âI mustâve forgotten them. Youâve interrupted me, you see.â
Bully groans, shaking his head before he disappears once more. His warm breath on your aching cunt is the first thing you feel before his tongue follows soon after. A breathless moan escapes you as you feel his lips circle around your sensitive bud, suctioning around it and lavishing it with his tongue. Your legs shake around his head as he continues, slipping his hand beneath your skirts to join in his efforts.
You canât stop the cry that escapes you when two of his fingers enter you, bullying your sensitive walls in harmony with his tongue; his perfect tongue, so soft and warm as it presses against your most sensitive part with just the right amount of pressure.Â
âOh godââ thereâs nothing to do but hold on, to try and anchor yourself to this world by fisting a handful of his brown curls as you come hard, thighs clenching around his head.Â
You feel Billy moan in satisfaction as you come down from your high, before he removes his fingers carefully. He sits up and brings his fingers to his mouth, licking each one clean before moving on top of you, capturing your lips in a sensual kiss. You kiss him back for a moment before pushing his shoulders, urging him to lay on the bed.Â
âLet me,â you tell him, eager hands working to free his hard cock from his trousers, âI want to.â
Billy swallows, lips parted as you finally grab hold of him and stroke him, before he nods. You straddle him then, lifting your skirts as you position him against your entrance. You bring your face close to his, lips barely brushing his as you sink down, just enough so the tip of him stretches inside you.Â
A soft, ragged moan escapes him, his breath mingling with yours as you sink down further; your eyes flutter shut at the stretch, and you try and savor every inch before he bottoms out completely in your warmth.Â
âChrist,â he mutters, strong nose pressing against your cheek. You can feel one of his hands leave your waist and press against your lower back. âYou alright darlin?â
Sweet of him to always ask. Your Billy is nothing if not sweet. Your eyes open, meeting his. Strikingly blue, nearly translucent in the low light. A clear brook, how you imagine the sea.
You smile, nodding.
âIâm alright,â you assure, rolling your hips. Heâs so deep inside of you, you love having him like this. Youâve never felt so full.
âGod you feel good,â Billy praises, âMy perfect girl.â
You lift your hips, thighs already burning as you lazily ride him. He lets you set the pace for a few moments, hands just resting on your waist and back. But you feel his fingers twitch after a moment, as if heâs incapable of not being an active participant.Â
âBilly,â you moan, head thrown back in ecstasy as his hands snake to your ass.
His fingers dig into the soft flesh as he begins to move you, assisting your rocking motion. He kisses you once before his lips travel down the curve of your neck, leaving kisses in their wake. He finally rests atop your breasts, nipping and sucking the soft mounds.
Pleasure winds a strong current in your lower gut, pressure steadily building as he moves in and out in and out.
âThatâs it darlin,â he praises, voice a rough moan, âJust like that, thereâs a good girlââ
His mouth returns to yours then after following the column of your throat, lips warm and needy as he kisses you. Your hands tangle in his hair, threading through the soft strands that curl at the base of his neck. Experimentally you tug, earning a groan followed by a soft surprised laugh.
âDonât start something you canât finish,â he warns, followed by a swift slap to your left ass cheek, leaving a stinging mark in its wake.Â
You answer him with another firm tug, his neck snapping backwards. He growls at that, hands securing themselves to your waist as he flips you back onto the mattress. A surprised gasp escapes your lips, transforming into an elongated moan as he picks up the pace. He slams into you, the sound of flesh smacking against flesh the only sound in the room besides your soft cries.
Itâs almost too much, feeling him fucking you like this; so deep, so unhurried, just Billy all over you. Itâs consuming, the soft warmth of his skin against yours, the intoxicating smell of smoke and leather that clings to him.Â
Billy laces his fingers in yours pressing your hands back against the mattress. You whine, wiggling your hips in frustration as his grip never relents.
âI know,â he coos, his tone dripping with condensation.Â
He continues pounding into you, pulling away from your lips momentarily to gaze between you.Â
âLook,â he says, and you follow his gaze, watching his slick cock pull out of you, before slamming back in, âLook how fucking perfectly you take me.â
Your lips part, a ragged moan escaping you as you continue to watch his thick cock split you open, each time perfectly grazing your sweet spot.
All too soon you feel the familiar tightening in your gut.Â
âBillyââ
âShhh I know, itâs alright darlin justâshit stop clenching or,â his jaw slacks, eyes squeezing shut as your pussy constructs around him with your building orgasm, âfuck, I wonât lastââ
âCome with me,â you beg, âMake me cum, make me cum, yes, yesââ your pleas transform into a guttural sob as you reach your peak, stars exploding behind your eyes.
He follows soon after, a curse leaving him as his cock twitches within your warm walls. His arms shake as he holds himself over you, and you brush some hair stuck to his forehead.Â
âLay with me,â you tell him, arms looped around his neck and pulling him on top of you.
Billy gives in, the weight of him comforting as he rests on top of you, softening cock still buried inside of you. You stroke his hair as he lays with his head on your chest.
âHow long will you be gone?â
âNot long,â he assures, âIâll be back before nightfall.â
âDo you promise?â
Billy hums in agreement, âIâd never lie to you.â
And you know it's true. But it's not Billyâs word that troubles you. There are a million different reasons he might not make it home. But you donât let that trouble you now. Instead, you hold him close, breathing him in choosing to believe that thereâs no reason in the world he wouldnât come home to you.
summary: You call Aemond to cheer him up during finals.
pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader
can also be read as an Our Last Summer universe oneshot
warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, dirty talk, phone sex shenanagins, sort of exhibitionism, masturbation, mutual masturbation, language
word count: 1.7k
note: oh CUM all ye faithful for I have written another smutty little fic! appreciate all of you who stuck around despite my writer's block! happy holidays and a slutty new year!!!
link to other stories from me!
To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on đ
divider credit @/strangergraphics
Citedal University is uncharacteristically quiet this late at night as half the campus has returned home for the holiday break. The last few students who were unlucky enough to have a final scheduled at the end of the week remain hunched over their textbooks; scattered throughout the library and other rooms throughout campus.
Aemond Targaryen currently sits in a secluded corner of the library, a steaming cup of tea next to the stack of textbooks heâs been pondering for the past few hours. Heâs one of the only students left at this hour, if not the only studentâtucked away in the back corner of the second floor where he's unlikely to be bothered.Â
He removes the blue light glasses that rest on his nose, rubbing his temples trying to relieve the dull throbbing that had begun behind his eyes. The sound of soft jazz reverberates through his airpods as he closes his eyes. He needs to stop soon or the pain will get worse. But Aemond has never been one to back down from anything just because of a little pain.Â
Heâd kept his phone on do not disturb for the majority of his study session, but took the chance now to glance at any missed text messages. Though itâs been months of dating, he still feels a warmth spread through his chest seeing who has texted him.
Thereâs no message in response. Aemond watches as three dots pop up then disappear. Pursing his lips he waits. A moment later a picture appears instead.Â
It's his girlfriend.
Not just his girlfriend. His girlfriend in his bedroom in Kingâs Landing. In bed.
In his bed.Â
Aemond sits up straighter, a shiver rolling down his spine right to the base of his cock. Itâs been almost two months since heâs seen her, not since the end of October had they been able to connect in person. A mix of classes, internships, and other obligations had simply gotten in the way. The anticipation of an uninterrupted Christmas holiday had been all Aemond could focus on.
Aemond pauses his music, calling her. She answers after the first ring as though sheâd been waiting in anticipation for his call.
âHello?â
âBaby.â
âArenât you supposed to be studying?â
Aemondâs mouth goes dry at the flirtatious tone, the soft feigned confusion at his call.
âI am, yeah,â he agrees, sitting back in his chair, the wood groaning as he does so, âTill someone distracted me.â
âOh no,â she says, and Aemond closes his eyes, picturing the perfect pout thatâs undoubtedly on her face, âHow very rude. Distracting Aemond Targaryen from his studies.â
âA paper, actually,â he playfully corrects, âOn the relationship between faith and reason during the wars of conquest.â
She moans at that, long and exaggerated.Â
âGods I love it when you talk nerdy,â she teases, voice rough, âItâs very sexy.â
Aemond bites his lip, shaking his head slightly and glancing around him. The library is silent apart from when he speaks, he hasnât seen another student in a few hours.Â
âAre you alone?â he asks.
âMhmm,â she confirms, âEveryoneâs gone to bed. Itâs very late, after all.â
âIâm surprised youâre still up.â
âI was missing you.â
âI miss you too baby,â he says, closing his laptop and removing his blue light glasses, resting them on top, âI canât wait to see you.â
âYeah?â She says, âItâs been so long. Too long really.â
âI agree.â
âItâs been painful, without you,â she says with a sigh, âI ache for you, Aem.â
His heartbeat speeds up at that. He lowers his voice even more before continuing to speak.
âYeah?â
âMhmm,â she murmurs, âRight now especially. Gods I wish you were here next to me. In bed.â
Aemond takes another glance around him, wetting his lips. No oneâs here, heâs sure of it.Â
âWhat would you want me to do?â he asks, swallowing hard.
âWell first, Iâd like you to kiss me,â she begins, the smirk evident in her voice, âI miss that mouth of yours. In more ways than one.â
âCheeky,â he comments, and is rewarded with a giggle.
âIâd want you to kiss me,â she continues, her voice low, âKiss me everywhere. My neck, my breasts.â
âFuck me,â Aemond curses, long fingers tapping on the table.Â
âI could if only you were here. Iâm so wet Aem,â she purrs into the receiver, âIâm wearing that set you bought me. You remember?â Heâs so hard he canât stand it; paper forgotten he starts to palm himself through his jeans to relieve some of the immense pressure. âThe red braletteâŠthe matching panties.â
âFucking hell,â he stifles a moan.
âHelaena put me in the guest room,â she continues, âBut I couldnât stop thinking about you. So I came in here instead, I hope you donât mind.â Her tone is teasing, he can practically hear her smile.Â
Aemond squeezes his eyes shut as her breathy voice continues, âRemember our first time?â she hums, recalling the memory. âYou ate my pussy so well Aem. So slow, and soft. Just the way you know I like it. Gods, that tongue of yours,â her words turn into a groan, âNo one has ever made me feel like you do.â
âBaby,â he murmurs, âYouâre fucking driving me crazy.â
âI just miss you. I miss your hands, baby. Your fingers especially.â
âYeah?â
 âMhmm. The way you hold meâŠsqueeze me. How they feel inside of me.â
âFuck.â
âGodsâŠ..mine donât feel as good.â
âAre you touching yourself right now?â
âMhmm.â
âFucking hells. Listen to me.â
A soft giggle emits from the other line. âOkay.â
âAre you fingering yourself, baby?â
âMhmm.â
âHow many?â
âJust two.â
âOh, baby. You need to add another finger for me.â
âItâs too much.â
âTouch that pretty little clit for me, and add another finger. Gotta get you ready for me baby.â
He waits for her to do so, listening to every pant and moan she exhales. Palming himself through his jeans is no longer enough. Aemond reaches for his zipper and slowly, agonizingly slow, he pulls it down to free his cock.Â
He moves quickly, releasing himself from his boxer briefs and fisting his cock firmly in his hand. His underwear is wet with precum as he tugs himself hurriedly. Theyâll have to be quick. Thereâs no way in hells he can get caught like this.Â
âFuck. Iâm so full.â
âThatâs my good girl. Howâs that feel?â he keeps his voice low as he asks, keeping his hand moving at a steady pace.Â
âItâs so good. Not as good as you.â
His cock is pulsating in his grip, twitching at the sound of her words.
âIâll be there soon.â
âPlease hurry,â she whines, âI need you so badly.â
âOh, baby. When I get there you have no idea how much trouble youâre in.â
The line goes silent for a moment and Aemond canât help the smirk that appears on his face. He can picture the scene on the other end of the phone so perfectly; her so close to the edge, pretty face scrunched up in pleasure. Eyes widening with surprise as he takes control.Â
âWhat?â
âYou think you can call me, distract me during finals, touch yourself in my bed, and go unpunished?â he clicks his tongue, âYouâve been a very naughty girl.â
âAemondâŠâ
âI canât have a naughty girlfriend, now can I?â he asks, keeping his tone light; the underlying threat of whatâs to come when he gets home all he needs.Â
âNo.â
âAnd you respond so well when youâre taught a lesson, donât you?â
He hears her inhale a shaky breath and his cock twitches in his hand. Tightening his fist he strokes himself faster.
âYes.â
âYes, what?â
âYes sir,â she practically purrs.
Aemond muffles a groan, the familiar tightening at the base of his spine growing stronger as he jerks himself off.Â
âYou close baby? I know that pretty little pussy must be desperate to cum right now. Gods I wish it were your perfect cunt wrapped around my cock right now. Or that pretty mouth of yours.â
He hears her whine, can picture her spread out on his bedâhis bed, while heâs so far away.
âGods Aem, Iâm so close.â
âYeah? Me too baby, me too. Go on and come pretty girl, I wanna hear it. Let me hear my perfect girl fall apart.â
He can tell when she does, her breathing more labored, those pretty moans elongating into a desperate cry. He can picture it perfectly, her falling apart because of him as she had done hundreds of times. His girl, all his.Â
âOh thatâs it, baby, just like that, thatâs a good girl,â he praises her through it, almost unable to stop himself. Itâs only a moment later heâs spilling himself on his hand, struggling to muffle the moan that escapes him.
The line is silent for a moment before he hears the rustle of movement, followed by a giggle.
âSeven hells woman,â Aemond says, reaching for the box of tissues that are thankfully placed on the table, undoubtedly meant for tearful students.Â
âYou enjoy yourself?â
âYouâll be the death of me,â Aemond grumbles, quickly cleaning himself up and zipping his jeans.
âAnd in the library of all places,â she says, followed by a soft tutting sound, âYouâre a bad bad boy, Aemond Targareyn.â
Aemond smirks, slightly shaking his head at that.Â
âI miss you,â he admits, feeling a familiar ache in his chest.
âI miss you too baby,â she tells him, voice full with emotion, âSo hurry back to me.â
Aemond closes his textbooks and laptop, preparing to leave.
âJust one more,â he assures her, âAnd then Iâm all yours.â
She happily hums at that, âYouâre always mine.â
âVery true,â he agrees, grabbing his bag, âItâs late, I should let you go. Iâll see you tomorrow night?â
âIâll be waiting,â she assures him, âRight here, in this position if youâd like.â
âIâd say just how Iâd like you but Iâm in public.â
âWhatâs stopping you? You just jerked off in a library.â
Aemond barks out a laugh as he continues to leave, making his way out of the warmth of the library and into the cold. Itâs begun to snow, a soft dusting illuminated by the lamps that light up campus.Â
âI love you,â he tells her.Â
âI love you too. Good luck on your final.â
One more final. And then heâs home. And then heâs with her. How it has been since last summer, and how it always should be.Â
likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected
summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.
word count: 3.8k
rating: mature/explicit/18+
warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!
a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!
âYou are so fucked,â Art says, taking another sip of his beer.
âShut up.â
âHeâs right,â Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.
Youâre all sitting on the floor of your and Tashiâs dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. Youâd been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Artâs money. Itâd become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester.Â
But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. Youâd become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.
You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. Youâd suspected heâd had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadnât been the same since. Youâd once asked Tashi about it and sheâd only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love.Â
Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player.Â
But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.
âGod damn it,â Patrick curses, âI fold.â
Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more.Â
âI need a smoke,â Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashiâs bed to the open window.
âOh no you donât,â Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, âOutside, we are not getting in trouble for this.â
She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.
âArt come on,â Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.
âWhat? No, I wanna stay,â Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, âYou donât need a babysitterââ
âYes I do,â Patrick insists, âCâmon five minutes, I swear.â
The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.
âHey, dâyou think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?â Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, âItâs Patrickâs last night, and yâknow we really havenât had any alone time.â
Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where sheâs coming from but, itâs your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing.Â
âOr at least just for a couple of hours,â Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, âJust so we canââ
âYeah, Tash itâs fine,â you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashiâs been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. Itâs an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. âIâll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.â
âYouâre the best,â she says, kissing your cheek, âSeriously, I owe you one.â
âYou sure do,â you tell her, âI expect full payment for this.â
âDo you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?â Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows.Â
âWith extra butter,â you clarify and point at her, âYouâre not cheaping out on me.â
âIâd never,â she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin.Â
You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrickâs smoke break.
âWhatâre you doing out here? You start smoking?â Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, âHey whereâŠâ
âPartyâs over,â you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that sheâs alone.
Art frowns, confused.
âBut we wereââ
âArt,â you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, âPartyâs over. Unless youâre eager to be a third.â
Artâs cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear.Â
âUh yeah ... .no thanks,â he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, âWait but where are you going to go?â
You shrug, âI havenât thought that far ahead.â
âYou canât just wander around campus, itâs like 2 am,â Art says, beckoning you with his hand, âCome back to my room, at least till theyâre done.â
âReally?â you ask, âCause if youâre tired I can justââ
âDonât be silly,â Art says, poking your shoulder, âCâmon.â
Artâs room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashiâs building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; youâd been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.
His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though heâd just woken up.Â
âSorry bout the mess,â he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.
âIâm not judging, youâre cleaner than most guys Iâve met,â you tell him and he laughs.Â
Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Artâs yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other.Â
âUm,â Art says suddenly, âItâs late.â
âYeah,â you agree, stomach sinking, âI can justââ
âYou should stay.â
Youâre silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. Youâre not sure what to say. Itâs fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.
A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.
âI meanâŠ.itâs just late and youâre tired and who knows when theyâll be done.â
âI donât have anything with me,â you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than youâd like.
âOh, here I got you,â he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, âJust did laundry today. You canâŠ.you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.â
You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him.Â
âOkay,â you agree.
âBathroomâs right there.â
You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Artâs spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Menâs Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you canât help but greedily inhale.
When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, heâs wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.
âIâll take the floor,â Art says, his face turning beet red, âYou can have the bed.â
âArt no,â you insist, âItâs your room. Iâll take the floor, itâs only fairââ
âYeah that is not happening,â he says, satisfied smirk on his face, âTashiâd kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.â
âWe couldâŠ..â you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, âWe could share the bed?â
Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adamâs apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.
âI mean onlyââ
ââif youâre comfortable,â Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.
âYeah, Iâm comfortable, Art,â you tell him, patting the space beside you, âCome on.â
Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. Heâs so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. Youâve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes.Â
âIs this okay?â he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.
âMhmm,â is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.
Heâs silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.
âWhat?â
âItâs justâŠâ he trails off, âNothing, itâs silly.â
âWhat is it?â
âYouâre the first girl Iâve shared a bed with,â he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.
âArt Donaldson,â your tone is teasing, âI find that rather hard to believe.â
âItâs true,â he insists, brows furrowing together, âI meanâŠ.Iâm not sayingâwaitâ he wets his lips nervously, âIâm not a virginââ
Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that.Â
âNot that anythingâs wrong with that, I justâwait and not to implyââ
âArt!â you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, âIâm kidding. Donât freak out.â
âMânot,â he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.
âIâm fucking with you, Donaldson,â you whisper, taking your hand back, âI know youâre a gentleman.â
âThank Christ,â he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.
Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.
âGoodnight,â you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.
You wait for his response, hoping heâs not disappointed. Disappointed about what, youâre not sure.Â
âGoodnight,â he says softly and you close your eyes.
You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Artâs chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. Heâs so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him.Â
Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.
Oh, Art.
Heâs pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.
A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly.Â
âArt,â you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, âOh GodâŠâ
You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.
âArt wake up!âÂ
Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You canât see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him.Â
âFuck!â he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, âShit, Iâm so sorry!â His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, âGodâfuck, Iâm so sorry I was asleepââ He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes.Â
âArt.â
âItâs just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consentâenthusiastic consent!â
âArtâŠâ
âAnd I would never want to ruin anything between us, everââ
âArt!â
His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps.Â
âGet back up here,â you tell him.
Artâs mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.
âNow?â
âYes, right now.â
Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.
âIâm sorryââ
âStop talking,â you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. âYou have my consent.â
Artâs eyes widen, lips parting in shock.
âYeah?â
âMhmm,â you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. âExplicit, enthusiastic, all yours.â
The last word has barely left your lips before heâs leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. Theyâre warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.
âFuck,â he moans against your lips, âYou donât know how long Iâve thought about this.â
Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission.Â
âYeah?â
âMhmm,â he answers, kissing you again, âSince freshman year.â
âWhy didnât youâŠ..oh fuck..â your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.
âDidnât want to ruin anything,â he mumbles, kissing your collarbone.Â
You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirtâhis shirt.Â
âIs this okay?â he asks, mouth returning to your lips.
âYes,â you tell him, âPlease touch me.â
You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Artâs eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits.Â
âFuck youâre beautiful,â he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest.Â
Artâs lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though heâs struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop.Â
âArt.â
He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered.Â
Heâs too pretty.
You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until youâre able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field.Â
You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.
You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again.Â
âYouâre just fucking perfect, arenât you?â he murmurs, returning your smile.
His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center.Â
âCan I?â he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.
âYes,â you tell him, and thatâs all he needs.Â
Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.
âYouâre so wet,â he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance.Â
He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.
Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.
âThat feel good?â
âYesâfuck,â you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, âOh god.â
âYeah?âÂ
Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers.Â
âFeels so good,â you moan, âIâm so close.â
âYeah? You're gonna come for me?â he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, âCome on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.â
His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.
âThat was so hot,â Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, âYouâre so hot. Let me fuck you, please.â
You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.
âGet inside me,â you tell him, âRight now.â
Art doesnât need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. Itâs pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself.Â
âCondom?â you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer.Â
He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit.Â
âArt, please put it in,â you whine, hips lifting.
âJesus, Iâm not gonna last long if you keep that up,â he says, shaking his head.
Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.
âOh god,â you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.
âYou okay?â
âMore than okay,â you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes.Â
Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth.Â
âYou feel so fucking good,â he murmurs, kissing your lips, âIâve dreamt of this for years.â
âMe too,â you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, âGod, Art, Iâve wanted this forever.â
This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession.Â
âYeah?â
âYes,â you whimper as he pounds into you, âWanted this for so longâused to talk toâŠ.to Tashi about itââ
Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.
âWhatâd you tell her?â
The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.
âWanted you,â you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, âWanted this so bad.â
âIâll give it to you,â Art says, his breath catching, âFuckâoh god youâre so pretty like this, fuck.â
âArt!â you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, âWhyâd youââ
âWanna savor this,â he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure.Â
The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch.Â
âPlease come for me,â he murmurs, right next to your ear, âIâve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.â
You do as youâre told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all heâs worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Artâs lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air.Â
You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.
âCâmere,â he says, pulling you across his chest.Â
You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
âDid you mean what you said?â he asks, face buried in your hair, âAbout wanting me? This?â
âMhmm,â you answer, putting all your cards on the table, âI may have harbored a small crush on you.â
Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.
âI wish I knew that earlier,â he admits, still holding your hand, âIâve been in love with you for ages.â
You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.
âItâs true,â he says with a smile.
âAnd here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,â you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, âHey!â
âNot the only one,â he admits, rolling you over onto your back, âIâm glad you got kicked out of your room last night.â
You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.
âMe too.â
link to other stories from me!
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summary: winners deserve rewards, and Tashi is more than happy to spoil her star athlete with the help of her ever-dutiful husband.
rating: mature/explicit/18+
warnings: porn no plot (deep breath) m/f/f dynamic, threesome, dom!Tashi, switch!Art, sub!Reader, p in v, creampie, overstim, hair pulling, titty play, use of toys, praise, teasing, spanking, orgasm denial, oral (fem receiving), oral (reader giving fem), face sitting
note: hope you enjoy! my first non-HOTD related fic!
link to other stories from me!
To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on đ
Your match had taken place several hours ago. Youâd been anxious the entire time, but ended up winning, much to you and your coachâs pleasure. The ride back to the hotel was torturous, as well as the following mandatory ice bath, sauna, shower, and footage review. It was the routine youâd followed ever since Tashi began coaching you.
She was nothing if not thorough.
After tying up several loose ends, including Tashi grilling you for every point you missed, every fault she could see when she paused the footage, you now found yourself in a more pleasurable position.Â
Art held your legs open as he continued his even thrusts, cock sliding against the walls of your pussy at a torturous pace. Tashi sat beside you, clad only in a silk robe and lace panties, brushing some hair from your face that was sticking to your forehead with perspiration.
You had the suite to yourself for the night. Tashi and Artâs little girl was safely tucked away with her grandmother in another elegant suite on the other side of the hotel. Another part of the routine.Â
âTashâŠ.â
âYou did well out there today,â she interrupts, reaching beside her to the end table drawer and pulling out her Hitachi wand. It buzzes to life as she turns it on and a strangled whine leaves your throat as she presses it to your clit, âSee what happens when you put in the extra time? That backhand of yours is a lethal weapon now.â
âFuck!â is the only response youâre able to give as Art moans at the vibrations as he continues to pound into you.Â
She likes you best like this, fucked dumb on Artâs cock, mindlessly agreeing to her plans for future matches, eyes rolling back in your head. Different moves sheâll have you practice. How hard she plans to work you on the court the following morning.Â
âCome on, come for me,â Tashi insists, hand trailing over your breasts, âWhatâs my girl need to come, hm? Need these pretty tits attended to?â She pinches your nipple for emphasis and your jaw slacks, a pleasurable current in your gut winding tighter and tighter with the continuous stimulation.
Art slings your left leg over his shoulder, pressing a tender kiss to your calf as he does so.Â
The new angle sends him deeper inside of you and you clench, mouth falling open with an uncontrollable moan.
âThatâs it,â Tashi murmurs, eyes never leaving your face, âFeels so good doesnât it? Art knows how to treat his girl, huh? Donât you baby?â
âYes,â he hissed between clenched teeth, beads of sweat forming on his brow, âFucking perfect pussy, godââ
Tashi removes her hand from your breast, taking hold of your chin.
âLook at me.â
Your eyes water with pleasurable tears but you do as she asks, always keen to follow her instructions. The tennis court, the bedroom, it was all the same playing field in the end.
âCome on baby,â she murmurs, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your lips, âCome for me, youâve been such a good girl, you deserve it.â
âFuck!â Art courses as your pussy tightens around him, âOh uhhhââ
âIâm cumming,â you helplessly whimper, the words nearly a sob, âTashiâŠ..fuckâŠ.Art fuck feels soâ-â your abdominal muscles tense as your reach your peak, white-hot ecstasy flooding your body as a shudder rolls through you.Â
Tashi smiles as you come, fingers dancing down your neck. Art fucks you through it, leaning forward to pound into you at a harder rhythm, chasing his imminent release. Itâs only then Tashi glances at him, her smile dropping slightly.
âDonât cum.â
Artâs hips stutter as your walls continue to flutter around his thick length, his jaw slacks, eyes watering as he looks at his wife.
âTashââ
âI said no,â she insists, shutting off the vibrator and throwing it to the side. Leaning forward, she captures your lips in a kiss. She sits up, a smile on her face as she kisses Art as well. He whimpers against her lips, hard and pulsating inside you still. But Tashi never changes her mind.
âYou want to come, you should try winning.âÂ
âTash please,â Artâs voice was strained, Adamâs apple bobbing, his expression pained, âplease let me come.â
âYeah?â She taunts moving up to kiss him. She brings her lips close to his, his eyes fluttering shut as she barely brushes the soft pout of her mouth against his. His lips part, head tilting to chase her.Â
You watch from below them, still trying to slow your breathing. You like watching them dance, this push and pull they have. Itâs hypnotizing, the effect she has on him. On you. Tashi pushes his chest and his eyes flutter open.
âSit.âÂ
Tashi nods to the chair in the corner of the room. Art hesitates and she raises a brow when he doesnât move quickly enough. Teeth clenched, Art unsheathes his aching cock from your warmth, hissing as he pulls completely out. Your breath hitches at the loss of him, and you gaze up at Tashi waiting for her next instruction.Â
Fully naked, Art walks to the chair, cock hard and swinging between his legs as though heâs nothing more than a scolded pup.Â
Tashi stands walking over to him, and Art tilts his chin to meet her eyes. Slowly, she lets the silk robe fall from her shoulders, and she takes her time removing it and placing it on his lap. You can see his erection through the soft purple fabric.Â
âHold that for me, would you?â she asks, turning back to face you.
You canât help it as your gaze falls to her breasts; supple and mouth-watering, dark nipples taunting you. The dip of flesh between her abdominal muscles, a spot youâve run your tongue along countless times now. Tashi rejoins you on the bed, lying next to you, looping her thumbs in the waistband of her lace panties.Â
âYou want a taste, baby?â she asks, smiling slightly at you.
You nod eagerly as she beckons you with a tilt of her chin. Scrambling into a kneeling position you slot yourself between Tashiâs toned legs, replacing her fingers and gently pulling off her lace panties, tossing them to the side and revealing her glistening sex.
Two things turn Tashi on. Telling you and Art what to do, and tennis.
Tashi brings her hand down her front tracing down her toned stomach until she reaches the soft curls that frame her pussy. She takes two fingers and spreads herself before you.Â
âCome on, baby,â she murmurs, her voice low and seductive, âEat up.â
Sheâs an enchantress, you swear, using some sort of siren song to pull you in. Even here between her legs, sheâs in charge; itâs you whoâs helpless. You lower your face toward her pussy, already drunk on the scent of her even before your tongue reaches her warm slit.Â
You couldnât hold in your moan of pleasured relief even if you tried as your tongue dipped lower, parting her lips and dipping inside her right entrance. Thereâs something about her, how she feels, how she tastes. Youâll never get enough of it. You nuzzle closer to her, nose bumping against her clit and she rewards you with a breathy sigh.Â
âArt,â she calls as you eagerly continue lavishing her pussy with attention, âHowâs the view?â
âFucking breathtaking,â he answered, his voice strangled, âTashi pleaseâŠ.â
âSheâs so good,â Tashi praises, nails taking against your scalp sending pleasurable tingles down your spine, âPut that pretty mouth of yours where it counts. Show me how badly you want it.âÂ
Your tummy flutters with excitement and you suction your lips around Tashiâs clit, sucking the sensitive button as you hear Art stand up.Â
âPut that ass up,â Tashi instructs you, her voice airy, nearly breathless. You arch your back, leaning forward into her as Artâs hands cup the front of your thighs.Â
You wiggle as he kneels behind you, his breath on your pussy before his lips meet your pussy. You moan against Tashiâs cunt as Art trails his hands up your thighs, spreading your cheeks wider as he feasts on you, tongue dipping inside of you and then up to circle your clit.Â
âIâll make you a deal baby,â Tashi purrs, back arching off the bed slightly as your tongue circles her pearl, âIf you make her finish before I do, Iâll let you come.â
Art groans against you, finishing with a frustrated whine as Tashi chuckles. You glance up at her, drinking in the blissed-out expression on her face, that sly smirk that reaches her eyes.Â
âDeal?â
Art doesnât hesitate, he simply redoubles his efforts, tongue entering you with desperate precision. Your lips falter, the pleasure messing with your coordination as Art ups the ante. You feel him pull away from you, and hear the wet pop of his fingers entering his mouth and leaving just as quickly. Then heâs breaching you, fingers slipping inside you with ease from the continued attention following your first orgasm.
âOh fuck,â you whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as Art fingers you. He sets a rough pace, placing his opposite hand on your asscheek and squeezing the soft flesh.Â
The two fingers he has plunged inside you to the knuckle curl perfectly against your spongy walls, hitting that sweet spot inside you every time he curls his fingers.Â
âCome on,â Art murmurs, slapping your ass, âI know you want to come again.â
âYes she does,â Tashi agrees, unable to help herself.Â
âGreedy girl, never satisfied with just one, huh?â Art teases and Tashi chuckles at his efforts. Art never speaks to her like that, only you. Tashi prefers the more dominant role over both you and her husband.
Still eager to please her you sloppily continue eating her out, lost in the sensation of Art's fingers in your pussy, Tashiâs fingers in your hairâ
âCome on baby,â Art encourages, though thereâs a hint of desperation in his tone. He wants to come just as badly as you do.
âSuch a messy girl,â Tashi coos, propping herself on her elbows, âOh but so so good. Iâm getting closeâŠâ
Art slaps your ass again, curling his fingers against your g-spot, and itâs no use. Your jaw slacks and your head lolls against the softness of Tashiâs inner thigh as your walls clench around Artâs fingers, your release barreling through you like a freight train. It knocks the air from your lungs, a desperate cry leaving you as Art makes a noise of triumph.Â
âSo you are capable of winning,â Tashi snaps, a little too cold to be simply a bedroom taunt. Art stares at her, before she sits up, âI havenât come yet.â
âLet me,â you murmur, looking up at her, still lying on her thigh. She smiles down at you, stroking your cheek.
âYouâre a sweet girl,â she praises, âBut Art won. I think he deserves to finish in that sweet little pussy of yours. Would you like that?â
âTashâŠI canât,â you whimper, still sensitive and tingly from your previous orgasms, âI canât come again.â
Her smile fades back to that familiar smirk. She glances at Art, nodding at the bed. Cock still standing at attention Art joins you both, lying on his back. Tashiâs hand winds its way in your hair, tugging you not so gently from your resting place. You follow her lead like a puppet on a string.Â
âDonât be ungrateful,â she accuses, pushing you towards Artâs lap, âThis is a reward. You deserve this.â
Artâs cock pokes at the soft plush of your inner thighs as you straddle him. His hands move automatically towards your hips, rough thumbs brushing against you leaving goosebumps in their wake.Â
He looks at you with wide, watery eyes, blonde hair a tousled mess.
âOne more?â he asks, and you know at that moment if you tapped out, heâd respect it. Art was never one to make you feel uncomfortable in any way, shape, or form.Â
He rubs your hips again, a soothing motion, and you lean into his touch. Something deep inside you tightens with want. You need him. You need her. You inhale a shaky breath and lift your hips, lining the swollen head of his cock with your entrance. Sinking onto him slowly like this is something else. The way he stretches your insides as you come to rest against him is a feeling youâll never get used to.Â
âGood girl.â
Artâs head falls back against the pillows and then Tashi pulls them from underneath him. Her husband knows immediately what sheâs after and tilts his head back as she climbs onto his face.Â
Tashi sits on her husbandâs face as though itâs her throne. As though he was made for her and no one else.Â
She pulls you closer as you lazily begin to ride Art. Lips crashing against yours she kisses you passionately, rolling her hips at the pace you began. Soon you find your rhythm, moving in sync together as Art moans beneath you, happy to pleasure both his girls at once. Tashiâs hand finds your hair again and she tugs your head back, latching her lips against your neck.
Sheâs fond of leaving marks. Art is hers through their marriage, but she likes to remind you that you belong to her as well.Â
Art bucks his hips up into you, the head of his cock nudging perfectly against your sweet spot, just as his fingers had moments before. A whine leaves your lips and Tashi laughs against your neck.Â
âHeâs good at that, yeah?â she murmurs, placing soft kisses up your neck and returning to your lips, âGood with his cock, good with hisâŠhis tongue.â Her eyes squeeze shut in ecstasy as Art does something you can only imagine.
He moans again, fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise as he decides the pace youâve set simply isnât enough. Artâs hands dip below the curve of your ass right where it meets your thighs, lifting you with ease up and down on his cock. He meets you halfway, thrusting up into you as he slams you up and down.Â
Your whines increase in volume, turning into elongated moans swallowed by Tashiâs kiss. You can feel her nipples pressing against your own and you reach out to caress them. Tashi gyrates her hips on Artâs face and his pace becomes more frantic as he plants both feet on the mattress fucking up into you harder, faster, deeper.
âIââÂ
Words are lost to you as your mind goes fuzzy; that familiar pressure in your gut builds, a wave of pleasure cresting deep within you. Tashiâs mouth captures yours once more as she snakes a hand down your front, nimble fingers circling your clit giving you just what you need to reach your end. Again.
With that the rubber band in your belly snaps and you come with a startled cry, pleasured tears leaking from the corner of your eyes as you clench around Artâs thick cock. His hips falter only for a moment as he chases his own release, and soon you feel his cock twitch within your warm walls, his spend blooming inside of you.
Tashi smiles proudly as you and Art ride out your highs, the pair of you moaning, limbs jerking from the exertion. Everythingâs a game to her. And she always wins.Â
âJust like that,â she murmurs, hips still swirling around Artâs face, âOh god IâmââÂ
You watch as her thighs tense, her head dips and her eyes squeeze shut as her orgasm crashes over her at last.Â
Carefully you ease Artâs softening cock from within you and lay between the both of them. Tashi on your left, Art on your right. Youâre facing Tashi, watching as she comes down from her high, feeling Artâs chest press against your back.
Itâs quiet for a moment, the soft sound of a kiss being pressed to your shoulder the only noise in the room. Art snakes a hand around your waist, fingers brushing the soft skin of your tummy. You giggle slightly at the ticklish sensation which causes him to bite down gently on your shoulder. Tashi simply watches, wetting her lips.Â
âOn the courts at five tomorrow,â she says, before standing, âIâll run us a bath.â
Art sighs and you canât help but agree with his subtle frustration. Back to business.
summary: Elyse Baratheon is Princess Helaenaâs childhood companion and closest friend. Jacaerys Velaryon has loved her since childhood. Aemond Targaryen loathes the idea of love. A Baratheon in the capital changes the Dance of Dragons, and the realm holds its breath.
summary: The polls have closed! Time to see the results of the electionâ and those saucy little photos that someone leaked.
word count: 4.6k
rating: explicit/18+/MDNI
warnings: language, kissing, yelling, dom!reader (we're topping tonight baby!!), crawling, begging, humiliation, degradation, praise, face sitting, oral (fem receiving), dom!Aemond (the top didn't last long), primal play if you squint, CounterÂź shenanigans, riding, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, mentions of infidelity
The waiting was going to kill you.Â
Rhaenyra had told you to arrive at nine. Sharp. Nothing else was in the email. Nothing else needed to be.
You knew why she wanted to see you.
The pictures of you and Aemond had been plastered everywhere. The Daily Lion, The Sunspear Herald, and even Beyond The Wall Times. Everywhere.
Not right away of course, oh no. Aemond was much too clever for that to have them leak at an inconvenient time. No, heâd waited and held onto that ticking time bomb until the proper moment.
A week before the election.
Thatâs when the world came crashing down.Â
You hadnât seen him since the Hamptons. Months ago. Heâd tried calling, texting, and sending emails. It was better to ignore him. You had nothing to say anyway.
You glance at the clock that ticks outside of Rhaenyraâs office in Dragonstone Tower.Â
9:17
Rhaenyra is nothing if not punctual. Sheâs probably coming up with the proper way to let you go. It's not an easy featâ youâre easily one of her best.Â
Were. You were one of her best.Â
Your eyes squeeze shut. Donât cry. Donât fucking cry. You take out your phone, mindlessly scrolling to pass the time. Polls close at eight. You get off the news and go to your messages. Still nothing from Jace. You hadnât heard from him since the drop. It was easy to assume things were over between you two.
âMs. Targaryen will see you now,â the assistant at the front desk tells you and you slip your phone into your pocket.
Rising on shaky legs, you take a breath to steady yourself before straightening your shoulders and heading into the office.Â
Rhaenyra sits behind a large desk, one hand incessantly clicking her computer mouse, the other playing with a crystal sphere. She rolls it under her palm, the sound echoing off the wood. Youâve been here a few times before; the office is open and inviting, with large windows bathing the room in golden afternoon light.Â
She still doesnât speak, and you nervously wet your lips, preparing to verbally flagellate yourself before her.Â
âRhaenyraââ you begin, but she silences you with a hand, not looking away from the computer screen in front of her.
âDo you see what theyâre saying now?â she murmurs, hand under her chin, âRhaenyra the Cruel⊠did you know what they called me when my father was alive?âÂ
Youâre not sure if the question is rhetorical or not so you remain silent. Rhaenyra glances at you then and you shake your head.Â
âThe Realmâs Delight. Quite the fall from grace if you ask me,â she clicks her tongue and closes a tab, leaning back into her chair, âTake a seat.â
You do as youâre told, sinking into the leather armchair positioned in front of her.
âSo,â she begins, bringing her hand under her chin, âQuite the predicament youâre in.â
Your chest tightens as you meet her lilac eyes.Â
âRhaenyra I am so sorry,â the words spill from your lips, âI never meant for any of this to happen. The embarrassment Iâve caused youâ to Jace. I completely understand asking for my resignation or dismissal. I deserve to be dismissed Iââ
âSweet girl, Iâm not dismissing you,â Rhaenyra says, her brow furrowing, a soft expression on her face.Â
Your heart hammers in your chest, face flooding with warmth.Â
âYouâre notâŠ.â your voice trails off, sounding smaller than youâd like, âyouâre not firing me?â
The corner of Rhaenyraâs lip tugs upwards in a small smile.
âThat would be quite hypocritical of me, now wouldnât it?â she says softly, leaning her elbow on her desk, âYou havenât done anything that warrants that.â
âBut Jaceââ
ââknew exactly what he was doing when he hired the photographers in the first place,â she finished, cutting you off.Â
Your heart nearly stops beating altogether.
Jace.
âHeâs smarter than he looks,â Rhaenyra tells you, absorbing your flustered expression.
âButâŠwhyââ
âYou were a loose end,â she tells you, âAnd you were getting sloppy. Thereâs enough scandal my family deals with. Jace is my son. My first child. Youâve got a smart head on your shoulders, invaluable to our campaignâŠ.but you donât love him.â
The truth of her words cuts through you like a knife. A dull ache forms between your ribs, and that horrible thought appears in your head, the one youâve been trying to push away for months now.
Iâm a bad person.
No, thatâs not true. It just wasnât Jace. It wasnât him. It couldnât have been him.
âI could have,â you insist, âMaybe.â
Liar.
âDonât,â Rhaenrya says with a small shake of her head, âDonât do that. Donât settle for dutyâs sake. Donât dismiss your desires for that.â Her voice is rough and thick with emotion.Â
She did, you think to yourself. She still does.Â
âYouâll sign a non-disclosure agreement of course,â she says, rolling her eyes, âItâs being drafted as we speak. Necessary, of course, not a slight against your trustworthiness.â
âI understand.â
âI had no doubt you would. There is greatness in you, raw talent,â she continues, âWith or without him.â
You can tell from the look she gives you itâs not Jace whom she refers to. Your lips part, but no words come out. Rhaenyra presses her lips together, nodding to herself.
âIâll expect you here tomorrow, regardless of the results,â she says, going back to her computer. Her eyes flicker across the screen for a moment before looking back to you. She waves a hand, dismissing you, âThatâs all.â
Jace is waiting when you leave Rhaenyraâs office. His head hangs low as you approach, brown curls longer since the last time youâd seen him. He offers a forced smile, avoiding your gaze.Â
âWhy?âÂ
You know it's unfair of you to ask. The scorned lover selling pictures of his scandalous cheating girlfriend. Revenge served cold on a silver platter. Everyone was siding with Jace, as they should. You knew you were in the wrong. Jace opens his mouth to speak, then closes it once more.
âYou could haveâ,â you struggle to find the words, âYou could have talked to meââ
âI just canât end up like my dad,â Jace admits, âMarried to someone who doesnâtâŠ.who isnât..â his cheeks turn pink, âI care about you, Y/N, I doâŠ..and I want you to be happy. And being with me wonât bring you that.â Jace lets out a deep sigh, âAnd as much as I care about you, Iâm not in love with you.â
Your heart drops into your stomach and your blinking rapidly increases, âI didnâtââ
âWhat?â Jace asks with a small smile, âIâm not completely clueless.â
Itâs your turn to blush as he reaches for your hand, gently squeezing it.Â
âItâs alright to be selfish,â he says softly, his brown eyes warm and kind as they hold your gaze, âYou deserve to be.â
You inhale a shaky breath and return his smile with one of your own. He gives your hand a final squeeze before letting goâletting you go.Â
As he turns down the hall you call out to him.
âJace!â
He turns on his heel, walking backward.
âThank you.â
He shrugs, âDonât thank me yet,â he warns and you donât have time to ask him why before he rounds the corner, disappearing from your sight.Â
âYou lucky bitch.â
âLuck had nothing to do with it,â you chuckle at Saraâs reaction to your news, propping your phone on the counter.
Sara shakes her head in disbelief before the Facetime cuts, a small warning signal replacing her smiling face.Â
âWhere are you?â you ask, tapping the screen.
âCan you see me?â she asks.
âNo.â
âGoddammit,â she groans, âIâm at Kingsroad Station. Mr. Stark paged meâ heâs working late to watch the election results at the office.â
âYouâre a dutiful assistant, trudging to Direwolf at this hour,â you tease, glancing at the clock. Election results should be out within the hour.
âOh you know it,â she barks out a laugh, âI had to go downtown and pick up his dinner.â
âYou wanna rain check our evening?â
âFuck no!â she insists, and you can practically hear her pout, âIâll Uber from Direwolf, and be there by midnight.â
âIf you donât get caught up,â you continue to tease your best friend.
âFor the last time, I am not sleeping with him.â
You frown. Something was definitely up with them.Â
âYou know you can tell me,â you press, âIâd never judge you.â
Sara sighs, âYeah you better not, you tart. Iâll text you when Iâm on my way.â
âLove you,â you tell her, and she returns the sentiment before the Facetime ends.Â
You place your phone face down on the counter, glancing at the TV in your living room. Youâve had the news on all evening, on mute of course. Thereâs no need for commentary. You just want to see how Rhaenyra is fairing in the polls.Â
The green and black bar at the bottom of the screen looks about equal.
Wandering around your kitchen you open the fridge pulling out a half-empty bottle of wine. Pouring yourself a generous glass you take a long sip, letting the alcohol warm you.
Itâs been a waiting game all evening. All year, truly.Â
A knock startles you, and you put your glass on the counter and towards the door. Itâs so like Sarah Snow to show up early when she says sheâll be running late.Â
âI thought you got caught upââ Your words die in your throat as you open the door revealing Aemond.Â
If you werenât so surprised you would have slammed it shut in his face, but the pause gives him the leverage he needs. Youâre a moment too slow and he presses his foot between the door frame as you try to shut it, his hand slamming against the wood keeping it open.
âGo away,â you tell him, continuing to push.
âJust listen to meââ
âI have nothing to say to youââÂ
âIâm not asking you to talk. Just listen,â Aemond insists, his voice breaking with desperation, âFive minutes. Please.â
Reluctantly, you remove your hand from the door. With a frustrated sigh, you turn on your heel, walking down the hall. Aemond follows close behind, shutting the door behind him.Â
âThree,â you call over your shoulder, grabbing your wine glass. You take a sip for courage, beginning to turn to face him, âAnd if you so much asââ you nearly drop your glass as you face him.
Aemondâs hand is held out before him, Jaceâs necklace dangling from his slender fingers. The diamond J catches the light, sparkling. Your mouth goes dry, cheeks warming at the sight. Eyes lifting to meet his, you canât find the words to speak.
âIâm sorry,â he starts, âLookâŠ.I neverâŠthis wasnâtâŠâ Aemond takes a deep breath, steadying himself, âIâm not good at this.â
The J swings from the chain, a pendulum on a string.
âI knew it,â you whisper, hand reaching up to your throat, feeling where it should lay.
âIt was just a game,â he insists, âUntil it wasnât.â Your eyes lift from the necklace, meeting his gaze. âThat night on the beachâŠ.â He lowers his arm. The pendulum swings. âLook if you donât feel the sameââ
Your stomach turns.
âGo,â you breathe, barely audible.
Aemond tilts his head to the side and murmurs your name causing your eyes to squeeze shut.
âI want you out.â
âWhat can I do?â he begs, âPlease.â
âGo grovel to someone who cares,â you snap, eyes opening, âStormâs End, perhaps? Seems like you have some making up to do with Floris.âÂ
You step forward, snatching the necklace from him, and throwing it against the wall. It bounces off with a small noise before dropping to the floor. Aemondâs tongue pokes his cheek, his eyes flashing with anger.
âI donât fucking want Floris!â he snaps, âI want you.â
You freeze, watching his chest rise and fall with anger.Â
âYou didnât want her?â you ask and he shakes his head, âDid you fuck her?â
Aemondâs eye widens, a fraction of an inch but it's noticeable. A bitter laugh leaves your lips.
âIt was before weââ
âYou men are all the same,â you seethe, glaring at him, âPretty words and no action. Of course, you fucked her.â
âY/N, it was before us, before we everâlook I havenât so much as touched her since weââ
âWell then hereâs your chance!â you interrupt, âIâm sure sheâs a wreck. Wallowing on her yacht just waiting for you to jump her bones.â
Aemond flinches as though youâd slapped him.
âStop it.â
âYouâre so talented with that tongue, useless apologies included. Itâd be a shame to let it go to wasteââ
âSeven hells enough!â
His yell silences you. You stand before each other, chests heaving with anger.Â
âYou want forgiveness?â you ask, cocking a brow at him, âGet on your knees.â
Aemondâs eyes widen at your words.
âWhat?â
âYou heard me,â you snap, cheeks warm with rage, âOn your knees.â
Thereâs a moment where you think heâll leave. Where heâll say to hells with you and storm out of the apartment, go to Floris, and leave whatever happened between you in the past.Â
Instead, he drops to his knees with a soft thud. Your lips part, admittedly surprised by his sudden submission. He doesnât put up a fight and doesnât give a tongue-in-cheek retort. He simply raises his gaze looking up at you between silver lashes.Â
You take a few steps back just as his hands begin to reach for you. You revel in his confusion, as his eyebrows knit together, and a smirk appears on your face.
âCrawl.â
His Adamâs apple bobs and you hold his gaze, violet and blue eye watching you closely. It takes a moment, but Aemond slowly lowers his torso until it is parallel with the floor; his palms splayed across the wood floor.Â
Aemond releases a shuddering breath, glancing up at you between silvery lashes, long hair cascading in front of his face shielding the redness that blooms on the apples of his pale cheeks. Blood roars in your ears as he begins to move, crawling towards you. His movements are slow and purposeful and you grin triumphantly as he reaches you.Â
âSatisfied?â he asks, his voice low and rough.
The corner of your lip twitches. Aemond meets your eye at your continued silence.Â
âBeg.â
âWhat?â
âYou heard me,â you tell him, surprised at the dominating tone in your voice, âYouâre sorry? Beg me. Beg my forgiveness.â
Aemond pushes himself onto his knees, leaning back on his haunches. He swallows, eyes watery.
âPlease,â he says softly.
You reach for him and brush the hair from his face. He closes his eyes at your touch.Â
âPlease, what?â
âPlease forgive me,â he says through gritted teeth.
You hum, letting your fingers trace the scar that mars his face.
âI donât know if Iâm convinced.â
Aemond groans as you trace his jawline, letting your fingers press against the pout of his lips. He parts them as you push forward, pressing down on his tongue.
âPlease,â he says, though he struggles to around your fingers.
You huff out a laugh, removing the digits.Â
âPathetic.â
âPlease! Let me prove how sorry I am,â he insists, hands gripping the back of your thighs as you attempt to step away, âPleaseâŠplease let me.â
You raise an eyebrow at his desperate plea.
âLet you what?â you ask innocently.
âLet me eat your pussyâbaby, pleaseââ
âYou think you deserve to?â you cut him off, placing two fingers under his chin.
âNo, no I donât,â he says, shaking his head, fingers digging into your thighs, âBut I want to make you feel good, pleaseââ
You tilt your head to the side, taking in the man beneath you.Â
âLay down then,â you tell him, âOn your back.â
Aemond eagerly obliges as you remove your sweats. Nothing remains underneath. You choose to leave your oversized t-shirt on. Itâs your turn to kneel, sinking to the hardwood floor.Â
âDonât move,â you tell him, crawling over him until your pussy rests above his face, âYou touch me with anything besides that tongue of yours, and Iâm getting off, and youâre getting out. Got it?â
âYes,â he says softly, warm breath fanning across your soaked center.Â
âGood,â you praise him, lowering your cunt to his eager mouth.Â
Aemond moans against you as he spreads your wet folds with his tongue. He greedily laps at your pussy as you grind against him, pleasure crawling up your spine and warming your belly with every stroke of his tongue.Â
Your hands reach up to play with your tits, pinching and tugging your sensitive nipples as he works his magic. His tongue stiffens below you, dipping into your clenching center and you canât stop the whine that claws its way out of your throat. Head thrown back, you lift your hips, ignoring the burn in your hamstrings as you ride his face as his tongue explores deeper inside of you.
Youâve never had him like this, completely at your mercy, lying stiff and compliant below you with his hands curled into fists at his sides. The veins on the back of his hands are bulging, as though his control might snap at any minute.Â
You simply canât help but taunt him a bit.Â
âSo good,â you moan with another roll of your hips, âFeels so good Aemââ
A muffled broken whimper sounds from below you and he picks up the pace, tongue eagerly fucking up into you, meeting the movements of your hips. His nose cascades against your clit so pleasantly stoking the fire building in your belly, the tightening of your release soon to follow. Your knees ache pressed against the hardwood.Â
âFuckâfuck!â your legs shake around his head as you fall apart, fingers tangling in his hair as his lips suction around your clit. Pleasure crackles through your veins like fireworks exploding in the night sky.
You wait a moment, Aemond not moving, before swinging a leg over him and crawling off his face. You scoot backward, tugging your oversized t-shirt down over your ass as your back meets the wall. You try to even your breathing, wiping some sweat from your brow as he sits up, the bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal.Â
âBetter?â he asks, pushing himself into a standing position, and offering you his hand.
You chuckle breathlessly, but accept all the same, letting him pull you to your feet.
âFantastic,â you answer. Aemond nods, wiping his mouth with his middle and index finger before sucking them into his mouth.
âHad your fun?â he murmurs, watching you.
âFor now,â you tell him, smirking again.
He reaches for you and you dip out of reach. A dangerous glint appears in his eyes as he reaches for you again. You avoid his reach, dipping under his arm and hurrying into the kitchen. Aemond follows, a wolf stalking its prey. Youâre sure heâs allowing you this chase, he could catch you if he wanted to.Â
You press your back against the island as he rounds the corner, fingers dragging across the marble countertop. You donât move, donât breathe as he slowly walks closer.
âYou done?â he asks, his mouth hovering over yours.
âIâm never done,â you whisper, leaning forward and nipping his lower lip, âYou better get used to it.â
Aemond groans, his hand cupping the back of your head and molding his lips to yours.Â
Everything that follows is shrouded in a desperate lust-filled haze. His hands cup the globes of your ass, lifting you onto the island. You tear his shirt from his chiseled frame, and he does the same with yours, leaving you bare on the counter.Â
âShould I?â he asks, dipping to kiss the spot between your shoulder and neck. You bite your lip, raking your nails against his scalp, âShall I assume youâve forgiven me?â
âJust fuck me Targaryen,â you tell him breathlessly, âThen weâll see.â
He needs no more convincing.Â
You pull at his belt, shove his pants down releasing his thick cock, reveling in the way his jaw slacks as you squeeze him in your hand.
âFuck,â he murmurs as you guide him towards your dripping center, âGods youâre so beautiful.â
You bite your lip, humming happily at his praise as he slowly sinks inside of you. Your eyebrows concave, tears welling in your eyes at the generous stretch. Itâs been a while since youâd had himâsince you felt this deliciously full. You hadnât realized how much youâd missed him, how hungry youâd been for this feeling until now.
Aemond bottoms out, not moving for a moment, simply resting his forehead against yours. His blue and violet eyes meet yours as you steady your breath.
âYou alright?â he asks, his lips brushing against yours.
âYes,â you breathe, âFeels..â You lose your train of thought as he moves his hips, dragging his cock along the sensitive walls of your cunt. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he slowly rolls his hips against you. âSo good.â
âYou know how much I missed this pussy?â Aemond murmurs, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, âItâs all I fucking think about. This pretty. Little. Pussy of yours.â He punctuates his confession with several hard thrusts.Â
One of your hands falls to the counter, holding yourself up, the other thrown around his neck, a fistful of his silver hair trapped in your grasp. Aemondâs hands hold your hips, hard enough to bruise as he continues his hard, even strokes.Â
âFuck,â you mewl arching your back, pressing your chest closer to him. Anything to get closer.
âYou drive me fucking crazy, you know that?â he admits, a muscle in his jaw twitching, âSince the benefit. The hotel. The fucking Hamptons.â His head dips to your neck and he bites down causing you to cry out, âYou like that? Driving me crazy?â You clench around him, walls fluttering.
Youâve never heard Aemond so emotional, so raw. Almost vulnerable.Â
âThen you donât speak to me,â Aemond says, placing a kiss on your collarbone, âFucking brat.â
âFuck you,â you snap, tugging his hair and forcing him to look at you, âYou hurt me.â
Aemond stills, holding your gaze.
âYou hurt me,â you repeat, feeling him throbbing inside of you as you keep him warm, âWhat you said, on the beachâŠ.â Your eyes water, âI believed youââ
âI meant it,â he says suddenly, âEvery word. Every word, and more.â
âMore?â you ask.
Aemond tilts his head to the side.Â
âIâm in love with you,â he says, as though it should be obvious. As if your world hasnât just completely tilted on its axis. âIâve been in love with you. And I donât plan on stopping.â
Your lips part.
âIâve tried. Tried to ignore it, to do what is expected of me,â he admits, âItâs no use. Thereâs no getting over you. Itâs you.â
âI love you too,â you tell him, and his lips crash against yours.Â
Aemond lifts you from the counter then, still nestled inside of you before bringing you to the couch. He sits and you push yourself up, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you begin to ride him. All the while he doesnât stop kissing you, smiling as he does so.
âThatâs it,â he praises as you roll your hips against him, âJust like that baby, thatâs my girl.â
You whine at his words and grind down against him, taking him as deep as you can. Aemond breaks your kiss momentarily to wet his fingers, dipping them between you to massage your sensitive clit. Your body tightens, your jaw slacking at the additional stimulation as your thighs begin to shake.
âI canâtââ you insist, legs tiring. Aemond flips you over immediately, laying your back on the couch and slinging your legs over his broad shoulders.
âPoor baby,â he teases, his tone boarding on condescending, âShe just wants to get fucked, doesnât she?â He quickly sets a brutal pace, the head of his cock rubbing against your G-spot with each thrust. Â
Stars appear behind your eyes and you canât help the sob-like moan that leaves your mouth. Aemondâs open-mouthed grin is answer enough to how fucked out you must look and sound.Â
âThis all you need?â he taunts, âJust need me to fuck you real good?â
âYes!â you cry out, nearly choking on the word.Â
âI got you, baby, I got you,â he murmurs, âLet me do all the work. You just lay there and look pretty.âÂ
âOh godsââ you cry, âFuck!â Your pussy spasms around him as you come, clenching around his thick cock with a vice-like grip. Aemondâs jaw slacks and he moans, finishing inside of you. The warmth of his release fills you.
He pulls out slowly, letting your legs fall gently to the couch. Aemond leans back, dropping to the floor in front of the couch, his large hands holding your thighs open. Your head feels like itâs full of cotton and you watch him as a fucked out smile appears on your face. Aemondâs fingers gently spread through your outer lips, watching as his spend drips out of you.
âSo fucking pretty,â he murmurs, leaning forward and kissing your pussy. You squeal in surprise as he holds your thighs open, lewd slurping noises filling the room.
âAemond! Seven hellsââ you whimper as your head lolls on the couch. Your hand finds his hair once more, holding onto it for dear life as he slips two eager fingers inside of you.
âI canât help it,â he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your clit, âYouâre too pretty when you come.â He curls his fingers against your g-spot, a man on a mission, âShow me, pretty girl. Come on, come for me again.â
His mouth latches onto your clit and he hums as he suctions it between his pouty lips. Pressure builds quickly in your stomach and it's all too much, your third release barely through you knocking the wind from your lungs.Â
âThere it is,â he murmurs as he feels you tighten around his fingers, âThereâs my pretty, pretty girl.âÂ
You finish with a cry, tears spilling down your cheeks at the overwhelming ecstasy. Aemond presses soft kisses against your thighs as you come down from your high. He removes his fingers carefully before helping you. He wanders around your apartment before finding the bathroom, returning a moment later with a damp washcloth.
âYou have a nice tub,â he says softly, âWould you like a bath?âÂ
The thought is so enticing that you nearly melt into the couch.
âLater,â you murmur, âI want to see the results.â
âLater then,â he agrees, watching you closely.
You donât want to speak, donât want to ruin the moment between you, but you canât help it. Anxiety pools in your belly as he kneels between your legs, dragging the washcloth against you gently.
âWhat now?â you ask softly, avoiding his gaze.
âNowâŠ.â he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh, âIâm not sure.â He reaches toward your face, forcing you to look at him. âBut whatever is next, weâre in it together. If thatâs alright with you.â
You lean into his hand, pressing your lips against his palm.
âThatâs alright with me.â
After several minutes of Aemond cleaning you up, you return to the couch dressed back in your sweatpants and t-shirt. Aemond has retrieved his pants from the kitchen as you glance at the television.Â
âHoly shit,â you say sitting up, eyes glued on the television, âHoly fuck.â
Aemond turns following your gaze and looking at the screen. His eyebrows raise.
âWell fuck,â he says suddenly, and you hear your phone begin to buzz from the kitchen. Aemondâs as well; the vibrations buzzing against the floor where it must have slipped out of his pant pocket. âSon of bitch did it.â
You meet his eyes before staring at the screen once more. At the blond man popping champagne at his victory party. At the green letters across the bottom of the television.Â
Aegon Targaryen wins!
note: thank you for the love with this series that wasn't supposed to become a series- I appreciate you all sticking it out for this one and hope you enjoyed it! lots of love MWAH đ Jo
if you'd like to be notified when I post please follow and turn on notifications for @sapphire-writes-updates in lieu of a taglist!
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as always, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated but never expected. appreciate you reading no matter what!
summary: Helaena and her lady sneak away to the gardens.
word count: 700
warnings: 18+ sapphic smut (fingering/oral)
a/n: feeling very sapphic! suprise! thanks @hotd-bigbang for inspiring this smutty little slice. enjoy! moodboard by my ride or die @undertheorangetree
The gardens were her favorite place in the Keep. Though her mother found solace in the silence of the Sept, Helaena was most at peace in the sunshine.Â
The chatter of birds, the buzzing of bees, the sunlight warming her face as she lay beneath her favorite tree. Here beneath the cherry tree, she was almost floating, not laying, on the cushion of soft green grass. A warm breeze rolled through, sending the pale pink blossoms shivering above her on their thin branches.Â
A sharp bolt of pleasure ran through her body, anchoring her to this world. A gasp slipped through her rosy lips as her gaze traveled down to the figure at work between her legs. Skirt bunched to her waist, sheâd come to the gardens with her favorite lady in waiting nearly half an hour earlier.Â
Giggling theyâd escaped the lessons with their Septa, nearly bored to tears. All Helaenaâs doing of course. Hands laced together theyâd made their way deep into the gardens before collapsing into a heap of skirts and kisses beneath Helaenaâs cherry tree.Â
It didnât take long for those sweet kisses to become more urgent, more desperate.Â
âOh,â Helaena sighed, as her ladyâs tongue traced circles around her pearl. âGods above.â
Her lady hummed, hands squeezing the soft flesh of Helaenaâs thighs, holding them apart as she began to tremble with her imminent release approaching. When she is finally thrown from the precipice of pleasure Helaena bites the back of her hand to silence the pitiful wail that escapes her.Â
Her lady hums, purring like a pleased kitten as she places soft kisses on Helaenaâs sensitive cunny before lifting herself on her haunches.Â
She smiles at the princess and her blissed-out expression, crawling on top of her and placing another kiss on her pretty pink lips. Helaena moans in satisfaction at the taste of herself on her ladiesâ tongue, nipping at her lower lip.
Her lady sighs contentedly, rolling to lay beside her princess.Â
âIt is a pretty tree,â she murmurs, as Helaena props herself on her elbow, stroking her cheek as she lies beside her.
âIt's my favorite,â Helaena murmurs, though she is not looking up at the pink blossoms. She leans forward, placing a chaste kiss on her ladyâs mouth.Â
âIs it?â her lady asks, breath hitching as Helaenaâs fingers trail down the side of her neck, dancing down her collarbone and over the swell of her breasts.
Helaena wordlessly nods her head.
âMother shall be looking for me,â she says with a soft sigh, her fingers trailing the front of her ladyâs corset, down further as she bunches the edges of her skirt in her fist. She tugs the material upwards before releasing it from her grasp, hand trailing up the softness of her companionâs thighs.
âSheâll not be pleased.âÂ
âI suppose we should be on our way then,â her lady says, breath hitching on the final word as Helaenaâs delicate fingers reach her smallclothes.Â
âI suppose,â Helaena says, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth as her fingers sneak beneath her smallclothes. âJust another moment.â
Her companionâs back arches off the soft grass as Helaenaâs fingers sink inside her, a dreamlike smile appearing on the princessâs face at that sound of pleasure that leaves her lips.Â
Her fingers crook upwards and she hums in satisfaction as her lady squeezes her eyes shut.
It doesnât take long, nor does it ever, for Helaena to push her toward release. Soon her thighs clamp together and a curse escapes her as Helaena silences her cry of pleasure with a kiss.Â
âI love you,â the dragon princess sighed when their lips finally parted. She cozies up to her companion, bringing her fingers to her mouth to savor the sweetness of her release.Â
Her lady turns to her, pulling her fingers from her mouth.
âDonât do that,â she murmurs, eyes downcast in shyness.Â
âWhy not?â Helaena insists, âYouâre sweeter than lemon cakes.â
âHush,â her lady scolds, but a pleased smile adorns her face.Â
Helaena turns on her back again, gazing up at the tree with pink petals.Â
âI love you too,â her companion says softly, fingers intertwining with Helaenaâs.
The princess simply smiles.
âI know.â
~~~~
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summary: After finding yourself at a holiday party you hadn't wanted to attend in the first place, Aemond Targaryen makes it worth while.
pairing: modern!Aemond x Reader
warnings: 18+/NSFW/MDNI - smut, oral fem receiving, fingering, spanking, praise, slight dirty talk, overstim, kissing, love bites, titty play, allusions to Aegon being a creeper, alcohol, smoking, langauge
word count: 7.2k
note: im back! grad school didn't kill me! hope you enjoy!
link to other stories from me!
To be notified when I post something new, be sure to follow @sapphire-writes-updates & turn notifications on đ
â
Be there soon.
Alysanne had texted you nearly an hour ago, and with each passing minute you became more doubtful sheâd be making an appearance at all.
You hadnât even wanted to come. Itâd been her idea and now she was blowing you off.
âWeâre just exchanging the last of our things,â sheâd promised on the phone several hours earlier, âYou go on without me and Iâll meet you there.â
Yeah. Because it takes three hours to give your ex-boyfriend his stuff back. Totally.
Alysanne and Cregan Stark had been on and off again since youâd known her; this time was no exception. You knew from her first running later than I thought text that the night wasnât going to go as youâd hoped.Â
You decide to like her most recent message instead of replying, unable to stop the wave of annoyance cresting inside of you.Â
You hadnât even wanted to come.
An end-of-semester holiday party. Thrown by the elder Lannister siblings; twins Jason and Tyland. The kings of Casterly Rock are well known for their extravagant get-togethers and the unimaginable generational wealth that funds all their exploits.Â
Theyâd long graduated from Kingâs Landing University, but you and Alysanne scored an invite courtesy of Cerelle Lannister, their younger sister, whom youâd been trying to avoid since you arrived. If Cerelle didnât see you, perhaps you could escape the party unscathed.
That hope proves too good to be true as your name is called from across the room. You slide your phone back into your pocket as Cerelle approaches you. Her blonde hair hangs in effortless curls down her back, the emerald green top she wears accentuating its golden hues, along with her bright green eyes.Â
Youâre not exactly close with Cerelle, though she appears to enjoy your friendship, at least on a surface level. Sheâs part of the weekly book club you attend. Her grin widens as she reaches you, eyes drinking you in.Â
âDarling!â she muses, pressing a kiss against your cheek.
âYou wore it!â she says, fingers ghosting across the cashmere cardigan youâd chosen to wear that evening. Cerelle had bought it for you a few weeks ago, though youâd begged her not to; the price was more than you made in a paycheck.
Alysanne once referred to you as Cerelleâs Polly Pocket.
âShe takes you out when sheâs bored and plays dress up. Itâs fucking weird,â sheâd said.Â
Cerelleâs lips curve upwards in a Cheshire cat grin as she slings an arm around your shoulder, bringing her glossed lips next to your ear.
âStop moping in the corner like some dreary wallflower,â she purrs, brushing some hair behind your ear, âHave some fun! Itâs winter break!â
Goosebumps break out on your skin at her affections. You laugh breathlessly shrugging away from her touch causing her to frown.Â
âYou havenât had enough to drink,â she insists, reaching for another glass, âYouâre much too antsy.â
âAlysanne was supposed to be here,â you tell her and she nods understanding, looping her arm through yours and giving your forearm a comforting pat.Â
âFashionably late as always, I suppose,â Cerelle drolls, pointing across the room, âThere are lots of fascinating characters here whoâll distract you. Shall I spin a bottle to decide?â
âHilarious,â you tell her, shaking your head.
âI never joke about a good shag,â Cerelle argues, gaze flickering about the room, âFrom the looks of it you could use it.â She turns back to you, matching your pout. âDonât frown, you look too lovely.â She places her hands on your cheeks, thumbs tugging the corner of your lips upwards.
âMuch better,â she praises as you hold the smile sheâs decorated your face with, âCome on let's find you someoneâŠdonât look at me like that! Someone to flirt with, thatâs all. A bit of harmless fun.âÂ
You roll your eyes earning a pitch on the arm and you swat Cerelleâs hand away.
âThereâs no one here I want to flirt with,â you insist, following her gaze around the room, âLet alone shag.â
âYouâre too picky,â she muses, tapping a manicured nail against her chin as she scans the room, âWhat about Greyjoy?â
A shiver rolls through you, âNo thank you.â
âHeard heâs good in the sack.â
Youâd heard a lot of things about Dalton Greyjoy. None of which made you want to spend an extended period of alone time with him. You glance at Cerelle giving her a firm look. She sighs, returning to her mission.
âYou need someone,â Cerelle insists after you shoot down several more options, âYou havenât been with anyone sinceâwhat was it again?â
His face flashes through your mind before you can help it.Â
âUnimportant,â you quip, âCerelle, I just want toââ Your words die as two new guests bound up the stairs into the main hallway.Â
Suddenly, itâs as if all the air has been sucked from the room, your heartbeat echoing in your ears the only sound you can hear. You tug Cerelle closer, eyes wide.
âYou invited them?â you hiss, as Cerelle frowns, following your gaze.
âNot me. Jason must have,â she answers, âItâs not a party without Aegon. Jay swears he has the best coke on this side of the Keep.â
Aegon Targaryen is relatively harmless as long as you keep your drink close. Youâre more concerned with the tall figure who lurks closely behind him. Though the younger, Aemond Targaryen towers over his brother; his presence makes the room feel smaller, colder than it was moments ago. Heâs dressed in all black, as he usually is, the silver chain around his neck the only other color. His long snow-white hair is braided down his back, an eyepatch securely covering his left eye.
He never takes it off.
Aegon pushes by his brother making a beeline for the kitchen where most of the chaos is localized. You can tell a new drinking game has begun by the sound of cheers and the echo of glasses clinking together. Aegonâs eyes lit up as he disappeared down the hall, eager to join the miscellaneous fun.
Aegon loves a good party.
Aemond watches his brother but lingers behind in the living room leaning against a wall. He extends a long arm to the bookshelf retrieving one with his long fingers. He flicks open a few pages, lips pursing. He glances up, violet eye meeting yours for the briefest moment.Â
Your lips part and you look away, warmth flooding your cheeks. You had shared a couple of classes with Aemond, nothing more nothing less. He was quite mysterious.Â
âAnyway,â Cerelle says, her attention wavering with each passing second, âBack to you drinking. Iâll get you another glass. Loosen up, pet.âÂ
â
You try to, you really do. No matter what her intentions are, Cerelle has been nothing but nice to you, so you allow her antics. An hour has ticked by and Alysanne has yet to respond to your latest text message. Squeezed between Cerelle and Sabitha Frey during another round of quarters you decide to plan your escape.Â
âIâm going to get some air,â you tell her, rising from the couch. Cerelle rolls her eyes, âIâm not leaving, I swear!â
âYou better not!â she says, perfectly sculpted eyebrows knitting together, âIâll come to fetch you if youâre gone too longâyou know I will.â
Sheâs telling the truth.Â
âFive minutes,â you insist, forcing a smile.
Cerelleâs nose twitches but she lets it go and nods, returning her attention to the game.
Weaving through the sea of people you make your way outside letting the door shut behind you as you walk down a few steps of the front stoop. Itâs colder than you expected, you can see your breath in front of you.Â
You stand shivering, trying to decide what to do next. Reaching into your pocket, you check your phone for the time. You could leave, make your escape down the steps, and catch the last bus back to Maegorâs Holdfast.Â
If you stay any longer, youâll be forced to spend the night or dip into your savings to splurge on an Uber. Itâs always crazy expensive on this side of town as if the drivers know the neighborhood is full of rich kids.Â
The door opens and noise from the party fills the cool night until it slams shut once more. You roll your eyes expecting Cerelle as you turn your head.Â
Only it isnât her.
Aemond Targaryen lingers on the top step, reaching into his jacket pocket and placing a cigarette between his teeth. He finds a lighter a moment later, a nice expensive one, flicking it open with a sharp click. Fire blooms in the palm of his hand and you can just make out the three-headed dragon branded on the side of the silver lighter before it disappears into his pocket again.
He releases a cloud of smoke into the air, mimicking the one your breath makes. You turn away as he walks down a few steps, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.Â
âYou were in my class,â he says suddenly, his head tilting to the side, âHistory of The First Men, right?âÂ
You force your lips together. âMhmm,â you answer, surprised he recognized you.
Aemond Targaryen didnât seem the type to remember a random girl in his class. Smart as hells, he focused solely on his grades, paying little attention to the rest of the student body. He seemed to be the antithesis of his elder brother. Though incredibly different, supposedly they had similar lustful appetites.Â
One for pleasures of the flesh, the other for academic validation.
Aegon Targaryen was a known party boy and ran in multiple social circles. He didnât care about class or popularity; if there was sex, liquor, and drugs around, Aegon Targaryen would be there.Â
However, there were stories about Aemond too that made their way around campus.Â
âYou alright?â he pressed, the silence laying heavy between you.Â
âI shouldnât even be talking to you right now,â you breathe, chuckling slightly as you rub your arms as the frigid air bites into your exposed flesh.Â
Aemond quirks a brow at that, taking another drag of his cigarette. âWhyâs that?â
âYouâre sort of a banned topic at book club,â you admit, causing his lips to curl into a small smirk.Â
âAm I?â
âMhmm.â
Another moment of silence goes by before his curiosity gets the better of him. âBecause?â
âMaris runs it,â you tell him, and he clicks his tongue, nodding to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.
Maris Baratheon, the elder of a pair of Irish twins. Floris Baratheon, once the object of Aemondâs affection for about a half second, was royally screwed over when he left her for none other than Alys Rivers. Adjunct Professor. It was quite the scandal at the time.
Youâre not exactly friends with Floris; closer to Maris if you had to choose. But it's the principle of thingsâgirl code.Â
âFloris and I were never exclusive,â Aemond comments.
âYikes.â
So maybe Aemond Targaryen is just like every other guy. Though, youâre mostly sure heâs telling the truth. The story youâd heard was that he ghosted her.Â
âShe shouldnât have assumed,â he continues, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.
You roll your eyes, blood boiling at his statement as annoyance begins to quicken in your belly. Aemond Targaryen seems more like his elder with every word that leaves his curved lips.Â
âRight, of course not, how dare she,â is your sarcastic reply.Â
Aemond tilts his head toward the sky, speaking around the cigarette.Â
âYou seem rather upset,â he accuses, âFunny, Floris never mentioned you.â
You turn to face him fully and he glances at you out of the corner of his eye. Folding your arms across your chest you jut your hip out. âWeâre not friends. Itâs the principle of it all. I donât like assholes.â
His perfect lips curl slightly. âIâm an asshole?â
âMhmm. At least Aegon owns up to his behavior, he doesnât pretend heâs some suave guy doing nothing wrong.â
You swear a smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he plucks the cigarette from between them.
âIs that what Iâm doing?â
âSure seems like it.â
Aemond takes a step closer then. You have to tilt your head to look him in the eye. Something about being this close to him is almost unnerving, your stomach drops slightly as you focus on his prominent cheekbones.Â
âItâs not my problem if a girl gets her hopes up after getting fucked properly,â he counters.
Your breath hitches in your throat and you back up, slightly slipping against the icy railing. Aemond reaches out, his hand curling around your bicep to steady you. Itâs warm, almost hot; the heat seeps through your thin sweater in the shape of his fingers.Â
Thereâs a tension between you as he holds your arm for a second too long, before the door opens and several partygoers stumble down the steps, forcing you to break apart. Aemond takes another drag of his cigarette from across the stairs as they laugh tumbling into the street. Youâre grateful for the distraction, taking a moment to slow the frantic beating of your heart, and the slight flutter in your stomach.Â
âSo,â you begin, trying to break the awkward silence the partygoers left behind with their departure, âHow do you know Cerelle?â
Aemond looks at you quizzically.
âHow do I know Cerelle?â
You jerk your chin up in a hasty nod. Aemond chuckles, shaking his head and taking another drag.
âFamily friend,â he answers, âOld money likes to stick together.â
You nod again, unsure of how to answer as he observes you.Â
âSurely youâve heard of the Westerosi Seven?â he asks.
You havenât.
âThe what?âÂ
âThe seven families,â Aemond says, his tone indicating that this is somewhat common knowledge, âGenerational wealth that can be traced back to medieval times. The higher lords and ladies. Near royalty.â He takes another drag.
âAnd youâre one of them?â you ask, crossing your arms.Â
âMy family, yes,â he answers, âAnd Cerelleâs. The Baratheon girls. Stark. Theyâre all quite close.â
âInteresting,â you tell him, glancing down the street again, âYou sound like the mafia.â
Aemond holds your gaze, not denying your allegation. You release a breathless laugh, but unease settles in your gut.Â
The door opens as if on cue, and Cerelle pops her head out.Â
âDarling! Come back inside youâll catch your death,â she calls, waving you forward. She spots Aemond out of the corner of her eye, and you donât miss the look of interest that gathers in her green eyes as they flicker between the pair of you, âTargaryen.â
âCeCe,â he politely greets, choosing to use the nickname Cerelle often kept reserved for her family only. She doesnât comment on Aemondâs choice.Â
âHope youâre being nice to my girl,â she says, the words clipped.
âOf course,â Aemond comments and you canât help but feel like you arenât there.Â
Cerelle glances back at you, a smile decorating her face once more.Â
âCome on, pet! In the kitchen.â
Her blonde hair disappears in the door. Aemond walks down the remainder of the steps tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it beneath his heel.Â
âBest run along,â he muses, not turning to face you, âShe doesnât like to be kept waiting.â
Annoyance prickles under your skin.
âSheâs my friendââ
âYou have got a very generous friend,â Aemond comments, turning to face you. He motions at your sweater. âMyrish, isnât it?â
You cross your hands over your chest.Â
âMhmm,â Aemond hums glancing up at you from the bottom step, âIâd just be careful if I were you. Accepting gifts from rich strangers is a lot like Persephone eating the pomegranate seeds.âÂ
You scoff at the implication before turning away and heading back into the townhouse. Aemond does not follow; you donât hear the door open as you hurry back up the stairs.Â
The party has since moved completely to the kitchen, sans a couple making out on the living room couch. You enter the crowded space and crane your neck to see what everyone is cheering at.
Itâs something happening on the marble island, but you donât see whatâthat is until Cerelle sits up, her blonde curls cascading around her face, a lime between her pearly white teeth like a cat with a mouse.Â
She smiles curling her finger, beckoning Aegon Targaryen forward. He leans against her, bringing his mouth to hers and stealing the lime. The juice flows down his chin before he lets it fall, pressing a sloppy kiss to Cerelleâs lips, earning several cheers.Â
As she breaks away she notices you, eyes lighting up as she slips off the counter.Â
âGood, you didnât leave!â she says giggling, âItâs your turn.â
âMy turn?â you ask, heart dropping into your stomach.Â
âMhmm,â she says, dragging you forward, âUp now!âÂ
âCerelle, I donâtââ
âHush! Qyle Martell is doing it,â she says biting her lip suggestively, âLet the sexy Dornishman take a shot off you, alright?â
Your cheeks darken as he appears before you, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you onto the counter like a lamb for slaughter. The crowd cheers and your eyes widen as you meet Qyleâs warm brown eyes.Â
âYour sweater,â he says, motioning to it with his hand that clutches a bottle of tequila.Â
You glance at Cerelle and she nods encouragingly. Over her head and in the doorway you spot Aemond. He didnât leave after all. Instead, he leans against the doorframe, observing the chaos with a curled lip, as if the entire thing is beneath him.
Qyle whistles, drawing your attention back to him. He motions to your sweater yet again.
âOh,â you tell him, moving to unbutton it.Â
Thank goodness you wore a tank top underneath. Your fingers slip with nerves as you struggle to unbutton it. Youâre the center of attention, peers cheering and chanting around you as you struggle with the bottoms.Â
Quite the sacrificial lamb you are.Â
âHere, can I help?â Qyle asks, reaching toward you, his fingers bumping against your own. The bottle of tequila sloshes.Â
âNoâno Iâve got itâoh!â
Youâd moved wrong, done something wrongâor perhaps someone pushed him youâre not sure. Your head is buzzing with the noise of the room and suddenly the front of your sweater is doused in tequila. Qyleâs eyes are wide as Cerelle pushes him to the side as the smell of alcohol fills your nose.Â
The room quiets momentarily until Cerelleâs bell-like laugh pierces through the silence.Â
âQyle you idiot,â Cerelle sneers, nose wrinkling with playful distaste, âYouâre supposed to wait till sheâs laying downââ
âIt was an accident!â
ââand her sweater!â Cerelle growls in annoyance, âGo upstairs, pet, my room. Pick anything you like.â
You slide off of the counter, hurrying from the room, leaving the sound of music and chanting behind as you move deeper into the labyrinth of the Lannister home.Â
â
Cerelleâs room lacks color and warmth.Â
Youâd spent the night once here before, crawling into the white feather bed after too much mulled wine. Cerelle had stroked your hair until youâd fallen asleep, only to awake the next morning with a severe headache and a churning belly.Â
Popping the rest of the buttons, you peel the soaked sweater from your body and throw it in the hamper. You then walk over to Cerelleâs closetâdouble doorsâand open it. Expensive. Perfumed. Youâve already ruined one pretty thing. Though Cerelle could hardly care about the expense, you do. You sigh, gently pushing through the soft fabric.
âPlaying dress up?â a voice calls, and you turn to Aemond at the door.Â
You close the closet door. Youâll just have to survive in your thin top. Aemond holds a glass of whiskey between his long fingers.
âWell, I suppose that was a given,â you answer him, sitting down on the bed.
Aemond watches you from the doorway, his arm raised above his head, fingers tapping nonsensically against the frame.Â
âDâyou want to see how youâre supposed to do it?â he suddenly asks.
âDo what?â you question, tilting your head to the side.Â
âWhat Qyle was going to do,â he answers, and you understand his meaning.Â
Aemond walks over to you, the ice rattling against the glass he lazily grips between his fingers, coming to stand in front of your legs. Youâre not sure why heâs asking, what interest he has in you. But something in your belly tightens the closer he gets.
âAlright,â you give him a quiet answer, the word barely slipping past your lips.Â
Aemond purses his lips, glancing down at your legs.Â
âSpread them,â he says softly, motioning with the cup. Warmth creeps up the back of your neck and blooms on the apples of your cheeks. You lock eyes with him, focusing on the ring of violet that surrounds his pupil. You do as youâre told, knees parting; his gaze hypnotizing. âWider.âÂ
Your skirt tightens against your thighs as you do so, but you spread your legs wide enough for him to stand between them. He takes a step forward and youâre forced to look up at him.
âLean back,â he instructs. Youâre beginning to notice how easily he slips into the domineering role. Again you follow his instructions, cheeks burning as you lean back, propping yourself on your elbows.Â
Youâre much more exposed without your sweater, the tops of your breasts visible in the thin top you wear. Aemond steps closer, looming over you, heat radiating from his tall form.
He reaches out, fingers caressing your cheek. You hope he canât feel how warm theyâve become, feel your pulse fluttering against his fingers as they trail underneath your jaw and down your neck until they reach your collarbone.
âYouâre to put salt here,â he murmurs, pressing against the dip of your collarbone for emphasis, âThatâs first.â He leans down then, fingers trailing over your shoulder and down your arm leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. âThough weâre without.â
You swallow as his fingers continue to trace your collarbone. His violet eye watches you carefully before he pulls his hand away. He brings them lower, ghosting down your ribs until they reach your waist.
âMay I?â he asks, fingers at the hem of your shirt. You give him a wordless nod, not able to trust your voice. Aemond pushes the fabric up slightly, revealing your navel. He holds the glass above your stomach; a drop of condensation falls causing you to flinch at the cool sensation.
Aemond flicks a brow at the constriction of your abdomen, âYouâre quite sensitive.â
âItâs cold.â
âMhmm,â he agrees, turning the glass so more condensation falls; little raindrops begin to adorn your skin, âThe liquor goes here.â His fingers ruin the pattern heâs created, rough fingertips swirling the dew drops around your navel, âTequila.â
âWe havenât got any,â you breathlessly tell him, his touch leaving a scorched trail across your belly.Â
Aemond brings his glass closer, pressing the edge against the beginning of your belly button, letting some whiskey pool there. Your hands clenched into fists as the cold liquid fills you up; you watch as it shakes slightly, overflowing. Aemond leans forward, catching the spill with his mouth causing a gasp that sounds more like a moan to leave your mouth. His mouth covers your navel and you can feel his tongue swirl around, collecting the liquid he poured there with hot, calculated strokes.Â
His violet eye peers up at you from behind silver lashes, half-lidded as he hollows his cheeks sucking harshly. He reaches toward the side table, mouth never leaving you, to place his glass on the edge freeing his hand. You can feel his tongue circling your navel, gently probing the sensitive skin. You canât help the giggle that escapes you at the ticklish sensation. Aemond presses his hands against your obliques before releasing you with a pop, his chin and lips shining.Â
âThatâs how it's supposed to be,â he murmurs, not moving from the spot between your legs. Some of his silver hair has fallen across his brow, and on instinct you reach forward, brushing it from his eyes.Â
âThereâs one more part,â you tell him, fingers grazing the beginning of the scar that mares his left brow before disappearing behind the patch.
âWhatâs that?â he asks, his gaze revealing he knows the answer.Â
He just wants to hear you say it, you realize.Â
Your lips part, fingers still somewhat tangled in his hair; the strands soft as silk between your fingers.Â
âThere was a lime,â you tell him, âThe personâŠ.holds it in their mouth.â
Aemond pushes up then, his hands sliding up your sides until theyâre pressed into the bed on either side of you, his face inches from your own.Â
âHave you got a lime on you?â he asks, his breath warm on your face, the scent of whiskey strong between you.
âNo,â you murmur, not knowing where to look. Heâs so close you can see the flecks of blue and gold in the lilac iris of his eye, count his silver lashes, and notice the small indentation on the tip of his prominent nose.
He hums again, his eye dropping to your lips.
âPity,â he says, lips down turning into a pout.
Your heart is nearly beating out of your chest with the way it's pounding incessantly against your ribcage. Heâs so close your chests are practically touching; your nipples straining against the fabric of your top. His chain peeks out from under the collar of his shirt and your resolve crumbles. Your eyes flicker to his lips, tongue darting out to wet your own and he leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.
Your hands wrap around his neck as he kisses you; his lips so soft and firm against your own, skilled tongue parting them with ease to deepen the kiss. A moan doesnât make it out of your throat as his hand cradles your jaw, the sound of soft kisses is the only thing you can hear besides the muffled hum of the music playing downstairs.Â
Aemond pulls away then, the look is his eye ravenous as he lowers himself between your legs once more. For a minute you think he may grab his glass and do the party trick all over again, the kiss just a spur-of-the-moment thing. Instead, he pushes your skirt up, fingers digging into the flesh of your inner thighs. You realize a moment too late what heâs doing.
Riiiip!
âAemond!â you squeak, as he rips the seam of your tights, âThese were a new pair!â
âI can buy you another,â he says, pressing a kiss against the smooth newly exposed flesh, âOr perhaps CeCe can. Youâre her favorite plaything, arenât you?âÂ
Your cheeks burn at the statement, your mouth pressing together in a tight line. Aemond grins, nimble fingers undoing the zipper of your skirt and wiggling it down your legs along with your ruined tights.
âOh she doesnât like that,â he says, clicking his tongue, âBut itâs true, isnât it?â His hands are roaming higher now, grazing against your clothed center. Youâre certain he feels the evidence of your arousal but he stays quiet about it. âThatâs what you are, arenât you? A pretty little plaything.â
âFuck you,â you hiss, humiliation seeping into your veins, though it does little to quell the desire pooling in your belly.Â
âNo shame in that,â he says, shaking his head, âI understand Cerelle, entirely.â His fingers tug your panties down your bare legs, exposing your wet center. Aemondâs eye locks on it, lips quirking upward. âI like pretty things as well.â
âSo Iâve heard,â you quip as Aemondâs second-hand joins the first. He swirls a finger low against your entrance and you clench as he drags it upwards.
âHave you?â he muses, circling your clit with minimal pressure, âAnd what have you heard?â
âThat youâre as insatiable as your brother,â you manage to choke out as his thumb continues to tease your clit, âYou just hide it better.âÂ
Aemond cocks his head to the side in silent agreement before pressing his face against you. A sharp cry leaves your lips as his tongue explores from your entrance up to your clit, the tip circling the sensitive button.Â
Eyes rolling back in your head, Aemond nuzzles his face against you, tongue slipping down and pressing into your clenching hole. He hums in approval as you make another desperate noise as his tongue curves upwards inside of you.Â
Seven hells, how is anyoneâs tongue long enough to do what Aemondâs is doing? Your toes curl as his tongue hooks upwards against the front of your pelvic bone, thrusting against the sensitive patch of nerves that resides there.
âOh godsâfuckâfuck!â you cry as he continues the repetitive movement of his tongue, waves of pleasure lapping up your spine, sending shivers through your whole body. âHells AemondâŠâ
His nose presses against your slippery clit, rubbing against it in a way that stokes the pleasurable fire burning in your belly. His hands hold your thighs open and you throw your head back against the bed as the pressure inside you builds and builds and builds. Your back arches and your thighs tremble in his bruising grasp.
You lean up on your forearms to watch him, his violet eye intently watching your face, studying your reaction. You can tell heâs smug at the effect heâs having on you. He would often get that same look in his eye in class after he proved someone wrong or made a more intelligent point. How you must look to him now; all spread out before him, flushed and slack-jawed, dewy-eyed and pretty.Â
Youâre a pretty toy to play with. Just want he wanted.Â
His tongue leaves your fluttering pussy and you whine at the loss of contact. He mumbles something that sounds an awful lot like needy before two fingers sink inside your warmth to replace what he took away.Â
Aemondâs tongue returns to its place around your clit as his fingers curve upwards replaying the motion from before. The stimulation now is much harsher, the pads of his fingers dragging effortlessly against your spongy walls, curling with brutal intention; relentlessly pressing against the swelling spot inside of you.Â
His warm, wet tongue against your clit only hastens the tightly winding ball of pleasure in your gut and you feel your walls swelling around his fingers as your release knocks the wind out of you.Â
You come with a strangled cry, hands gripping the bed sheets as your abdominal muscles contract to the point of pain, all your muscles going taut as warm waves of euphoria rush through you.Â
Aemond releases a choked chuckle of appreciation as he feels you tighten around his fingers. He fucks you through it, stretching out the wave of your orgasm until your legs are trembling and the overstimulation causes you to hiss at him.
âStop, stop, please.â
âAlrightâŠshhh,â he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your mound and gently pulling his fingers from your fluttering walls, âThere you go, thatâs a good girl. You did so well for me.â
You canât help but warm at his praise, the ringing in your ears fading as your chest swells. Aemond is on you once more, lips pressed to yours the mingled taste of whiskey and you hot on his tongue.Â
âAre you going to let me fuck you?â he murmurs between sticky kisses, âHmm?â
âAemondâŠâ you breathe into his mouth, hoping that is enough for him.
You can feel him smirk against your lips and know instantly it's not. He tuts disapprovingly, pushing you back against the mattress, his face dipping into the crook of your neck.
âWhat would Floris say?â he teases, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your neck. Your hands wind around his neck, fingers digging into his scalp. His braid is all but ruined. âI thought you said something earlier,â he continues, nipping and sucking at different spots on your neck, humming with pleasure when he locates a spot that has your back arching.Â
âI donâtââ
âLoyalty, I recall,â he purrs, his hand snaking down your side, gripping the meat of your thigh and hoisting it around his waist, âSomething like that.â
âAemond,â you whimper helplessly as he grinds against you, the feeling of his hard cock concealed by his trousers driving you close to madness, âAemond please.â
âYouâre going to have to say it,â he insists, kissing your cheek, âCome on, say it.â
âI want you to fuck me,â you tell him, âPlease Aemondâgods.âÂ
âThey canât hear you,â he taunts, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, âYouâre all mine.â
You frantically nod, nose bumping against his as his lips curl into a greedy smile. He removes his shirt with one hand before he rolls off of you and onto his back, motioning to you with his hands.Â
âGo on then,â he says, âTake what you want.â
With shaky hands, you undo his belt above the sizable tent in his pants before dragging the zipper down and releasing his cock. Heâs bigger than you expected, both in length and girth, the reddened tip already weeping in anticipation. You stroke his velvety shaft once before he grabs your wrist, pulling you toward him.Â
His hands pull your shirt from your body as you straddle him, his cock nudging at your folds. Aemondâs hands slide up your back, undoing your bra and freeing your breasts.Â
âYouâre gorgeous,â he murmurs, hands cupping the sizable mounds, âGods, youâre so lovely.â
Your face burns at his praise as you raise your hips before gripping him in your hand and guiding him inside of you; gently letting yourself slide down his length, inner walls fluttering around him at the new sensation. Shuddering on top of him you whine at the stretch. âGodsââ
âYou can take it,â he murmurs, squeezing you softly in encouragement, âCome on baby, thatâs it, just like that.â
Slowly you let him bottom out in your warmth, happily seated on his cock feeling incredibly full. You brace your hands on his chest as he pinches both of your nipples, your jaw slacking in response. Aemond lifts his hips slightly, gauging your reaction as your eyes screw shut.
âThat feel good?â he asks, his voice a rough whisper.
âYes,â you breathe, slowly starting to ride him, hips lifting and returning to his with a soft smack.Â
âThere she goes,â he murmurs, hands dropping to your hips, squeezing, âTake what you need, gevie.â
A breathless moan escapes you as you ride him, his hands guiding you through the movements. The hum from the music downstairs matches the ringing in your ears.Â
Aemond drops his hand from your waist bringing it to the apex of your thighs. His lips part as he watches you rise and fall on his cock, his length coated with your arousal.Â
âThatâs it,â he coos, his tone bordering on one of condensation, âJust like thatâthereâs a good girl.â His thumb brushes against your clit as he says it, a broken moan leaving your lips as pleasure ignites your veins.Â
His movements are soft, tantalizing, and brutally calculated as he circles the sensitive button; his other hand clings to your waist, hard enough to bruise. Surely theyâll be memories of his touch when you wake; dark purple petals blossoming on your soft flesh at first light. He guides your movements as they become sloppier the closer you get to your release.Â
It sends tingles up your spine, your chest and neck growing warmth as you edge closer to the precipice of pleasure.
No other man has made you finish before.
âAre you close?â Aemond murmurs, never stopping his attention to your clit, the subtle movement of his hips thrusting up into you, âI know you areâcan feel you clenching around me.â
Your head falls back, mind foggy as you desperately grind against him, trying to ignore the burn in your hamstrings. Aemondâs hand leaves your hip crashing down against your ass with a loud smack. You yelp in surprise, head jerking forward, nails clawing into the hardened muscles of his chest. Aemondâs hand remains where heâd spanked you, fingers curling into the meat of your ass as he releases a breathless laugh; his eye flickers to where your nails dig against his pale flesh, leaving a trail of red behind as they scrape down his chest.
âAnswer me,â he demands, and you quickly nod earning another stinging slap, âWith your words gevie. Use those pretty lips.â
âYes,â you practically gasp, âYes, Aemond Iâm closeââ
âAnd you want to cum, donât you?â he murmurs, lips curling into a smirk, âDo you want me to make you cum?â
âYes, Aemond pleaseââ the sentence dies with a moan as he plants both feet on the mattress, bucking his hips up against yours at an inhumane pace. Your eyes screw shut, mouth hanging open in ecstasy as all the muscles in your body tense followed by a sudden burst of euphoria pulsing through you.Â
Aemond hums in satisfaction as you ride your high, blood rushing in your ears as you shake on top of him, clenching around his thick length. Heâs careful to pull his thumb away from your sensitive clit as your eyes flutter open, eyebrows scrunched together at the overstimulation. But his compassion is short-lived as he hooks his arm around your waist, flipping you onto your back and slotting his body on top of yours.Â
His cock is removed for merely a moment at the switch of positions before itâs stretching into your once more earning a sharp gasp. Aemondâs hand covers your mouth in an instant, his face buried in the crook of your neck once more.Â
âShhh,â he coos, placing a kiss under your ear, âHear that?â he asks, thrusting gently into your warmth causing your eyes to roll back in your head. âListen.â
His hips continue their gentle roll against yours, slowly stoking the pleasurable fire that is reigniting in your belly. Limbs still tingling from your previous orgasm, you blink rapidly trying to focus on what heâs asking.Â
The music downstairs has died.
âEveryoneâs going home,â he murmurs, through another kiss, âWeâd best be quick. Would hate for lovely Cerelle to find her pet in such a position.â
Embarrassment burns your cheeks and he chuckles, keeping his hand over your mouth as he slings your leg over his shoulder, deepening the angle of his thrusts. The head of his cock bullies against your sweet spot almost lovingly as he drags his cock in and out.
âKeep quiet,â he murmurs, the sound of silence deafening with the lack of music, âCan you do that?â Heâs rather cruel with his question, delivering a particularly harsh thrust as he asks, then clicking his tongue in disapproval at your muffled moan. âThought not.â
So his hand remains as he plows into you, the sounds of your pleasure muffled but still desperate as you claw at his shoulders.Â
âThatâs it,â he encourages, âCum for me again, just like that.â His pelvis grazes against your clit, the friction only aiding in his efforts of making you reach your release once more. His violet eye scans your face before he dips to your collarbone, nipping the sensitive flesh with his teeth and you cum with a desperate cry against his hand.Â
âThere you go,â he coos, the words breathy and broken his hips faltering as your walls clamp down around him, âSqueezing me so fucking tightâfuck.â He regains his pace with renewed enthusiasm as your walls continue to flutter around him. Aemond removes his hand from your mouth pressing it into the mattress beside your head.Â
Nerves raw from the continued stimulation a tear rolls down your cheek as he chases his own release. Aemond leans forward, hot tongue darting out to catch the salty stream as he hums in satisfaction.Â
âWeâll have more time next time,â he whispers the promise against your cheek, âI want to explore what other pretty noises you make.â His lips capture yours then, swallowing the whimper you release.Â
âIâm very curious,â he murmurs against your lips, slinging your other leg over his shoulder, pushing your knees back beside your ears. âAnd Iâm very thorough.â A silent scream leaves you as he slams back into you, toes curling as you cum again, vision going white with the force of it.Â
Aemondâs hips meet yours a few more times and then you feel his cock pulsate inside of you before the warmth of his release fills you to the brim. Youâll need to make a trip to the pharmacy, but youâll think about that later. He stays like that for a moment, buried to the hilt inside of you as you both try to regulate your breathing.Â
Aemond lowers your legs gently from around his shoulders and brushes some sweat-soaked hair from your forehead.Â
âAre you alright?â he asks, and you nod as he kisses you sweetly.
âJust fucked out,â you assure him, a pleasurable ache radiating down your thighs. Aemond hums, carefully pulling his softening cock from your warmth.
The emptiness takes your breath away as he stands. âWait here,â he orders, walking towards Cerelleâs bathroom. He returns a moment later, washcloth in hand. You push yourself onto shaky forearms as he carefully cleans the mess between your thighs.
âThank you,â you tell him, face burning from his attention.
âNo need for thanks,â he insists, âItâs the bare minimum.â
âFor you maybe.â
Aemond flicks a brow toward his hairline, his violet eye meeting yours. His expression is curious, but you sense heâs not going to push you to elaborate. You hold his gaze.Â
Not tonight.
âAre you staying here?â he asks, standing when heâs done, handing you pieces of your clothes.
âI think I have to,â you answer, putting your skirt back on and glancing at the clock, âThe last bus is long gone.â
Aemond frowns, reaching for his phone.
âIâll have my driver take you,â he says, unlocking his screen.
âYou donât have toââ
âItâs no trouble,â he insists, placing the phone against his ear, âCole. Ten minutes. Thank you.â He hangs up quickly leaving no time to argue.
âThanks,â you mutter awkwardly while finishing dressing. You walk to Cerelleâs large mirror and attempt to fix your sex hair. Your eyes widen in horror as you tilt your head to the side, leaning closer to get a better look.Â
âAemond,â you hiss, fingers pressing against the three red marks sure to bruise, âI look like Iâve been mauled by a bear.â
Aemond walks up behind you dragging his fingers down the curve of your neck and over your collarbone. Goosebumps appear in their wake. Three more red marks lead a path down to the top of your right breast. Several sizable mouth-shaped love bites.Â
Aemond rests his chin on your shoulder, meeting your eyes in the mirror.
âThink of them as a gift,â he tells you, the curve of his lips pressed against the skin of your neck.
His hand curves around your waist, the other slinking up to turn your face towards him. He hums appreciatively, kissing your lips, then your cheek. Down your neck to your shoulder. You glance in the mirror once more, catching his eye.Â
Thereâs something new there. Almost possessive.Â
His grip on your waist tightens and he presses his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder.
summary: Tensions rise between you and Aemond at the arrival of Floris Baratheon.
word count: 6.3k
rating: explicit/18+/MDNI
warnings: kissing, fingering, oral (f receiving), degradation, slight praise, semi-public, finger sucking, gagging, hair pulling, begging, infidelity, reader serving cunt (listen, our reader is not a girl's girl and you know what we're just rolling with it for this one rip), angst, alcohol consumption, smoking, language
note: oh hey there! it's my monthly series update whatcha know! how's everyone doing? surviving? thriving? slay! thanks for reading lovelies I hope you enjoy it!
dividers & headers by me (i know, we've come so far)
if you'd like to be notified when I post please follow and turn on notifications for @sapphire-writes-updates in lieu of a taglist!
like this story? check out more of my work HERE đ€
Floris Baratheon is annoyingly pretty.
Even more so now that sheâs this close; seated across from you at brunch. Floris and her sisters went to school with you when you were younger; youâd been in the same grade as her older sister Maris. You were never close. When it became clear her family was supporting Aegon over Rhaenyra, you made it your mission to find out everything worth knowing about them.Â
Floris motherfucking Baratheon.Â
She bats her lashes at Aemond as he holds his brotherâs attention in polite quiet conversation. Easily the prettiest of her sisters so it is wasnât surprising that Aemond had chosen her as his prize. Though to be frank, youâd never thought of Aemond as shallow. He hardly dated at all.Â
Aegon had arrived late the previous night, setting off the alarms of Summerhall as he fell into the swimming pool. A fabulous start to the day.Â
Floris had arrived the evening after you and Aemondâs most recent rendezvous. Sheâd squealed like an excited teenager, throwing her arms around Aemond, her heels lifting off of the ground as she peppered light kisses across his face. Her presence had been a thorn in your side ever since.Â
A family outing had been Alicentâs idea. The restaurant was Rhaenyraâs choosing; an intimate little rooftop brunch spot. Youâd all gotten there early to avoid the sweltering midday sun.Â
You glance over your shoulder at the table behind you where Rhaenyra is seated, flanked by Daemon and Joffrey. Alicent and her father sit across from them, both tight lipped. Daemon is lost in his menu, the corner of his mouth curling into a sneer as he murmurs something to Rhaenyra. The table appears quiet, with no polite conversation. Though Joffrey is seated beside his mother, it feels very much as though youâd been seated at the kidâs table.Â
âWerenât you supposed to bring someone?â Helaena asks, glancing at Aegon out of the corner of her eye as she pours over the menu. âI thought you were seeing that Lannister girl.â
You turn away from the grown-ups' table, reaching for your wine. You declined the complimentary mimosas, as did Aegon. He swirls his glass of scotch in his hand, the ice cube clinking against the sides. Nothing like hard liquor at 11 am.Â
âSheâs not coming,â Aegon answers.
âNot coming?âÂ
Aegon merely shrugs, tapping his finger against the glass, âWe had a fight.â
Helaena quirks a brow at that, pursing her lips as she sets her menu on the table.
âA fight?â
âYes. A disagreement.â
âAbout what?â
Aegon groans, leaning back in his chair as a waitress walks by. His eyes rake over her figure so quickly you almost miss it. Aegonâs been perving for years and heâs mastered his technique. Your stomach sours and you roll your eyes. Jace reaches over to you, placing his hand on top of yours giving it a comforting squeeze.Â
âLoyalties. I kissed someone else and she wasnât happy.â Aegon tells his sister. His playful frown suggests heâs unbothered by her reaction to his infidelity. Â
Of all the Targaryens, you think you hate Aegon the most.You glance at Aemond and find him already looking at you.
Well, maybe not the most.Â
âHow dreadful. Youâll cause a scandal, Iâm sure,â Helaena muses.Â
âNo oneâs paying much attention to me. Nothing to worry about,â Aegon says, plucking a piece of bread from the basket in front of him, âEveryoneâs more concerned about Maegor With Tits.â He holds the bread against his chest for crude emphasis.Â
âHush,â Helaena snaps, always the quickest of her siblings to defend her half-sister.Â
Helaena and Aegon quarrel like lovers. Itâs unsettling.Â
Aemond is still watching you, even though youâve looked away. Youâre trying to control the small smirk that plays on your lips. You know why heâs staring.Â
It wasnât as though you were trying to get him to look at you, but you had opted for a more revealing dress than you usually would for a family outing. Jaceâs eyes had widened considerably as youâd smoothed the small scrap of silk into place that morning.
âYou look incredible,â heâd said, hand on your hip, eyes following the fabric that stopped just below the curve of your ass, leaving no amount of leg to the imagination.
You glance at Aemond, meeting his hungry gaze. Heâs awfully fun to play with. Itâs been so boring the past few days ever since Florisâ arrival. Sheâd been stuck to Aemondâs side like a pretty little leech the entire time.Â
âSo, Floris,â you say, placing your wine glass on the table, âWeâve been living in the same house for three days now and I feel like I donât know anything about you. Tell me about yourself.â Itâs a command more than a request.
Aemond keeps his eye focused on you, the heat of his glare burning into your face. Helaena raises a brow as Jace and Aegon begin talking to one another, oblivious. Helaena has always been the most observant. Floris smiles kindly, not sensing the tension that rolls off your shoulders. Itâs the first time youâve attempted to speak to her.Â
âOh ... .wellâŠ,â she glances at Aemond though he says nothing, âWhat would you like to know?â
A smile dances across your lips. This should be fun.
âI canât remember for the life of me where you studied. Which university did you graduate from again?â you ask, cocking your head to the side, âWas it Harvard or Yale? I always confuse the East Coast ivies.â You laugh breathlessly, shaking your head.Â
Florisâ eyelashes flutter; a nervous tell. She smiles with a sigh, clearly not used to the spotlight directed at her.Â
âOh well I think youâre thinking of my sister Maris,â she answers, cheeks turning a rosy hue of pink. You knew that, obviously. If Aemond wanted intellectually stimulating conversation, heâd have chosen her as his arm candy. âBut Iâm planning on going back and getting my degree at some point. Iâm really interested in botanyââ
âBotany! Ha! That was my minor in university,â Helaena chimes in. Florisâ eyes light up, thankful Helaena has joined the conversation. âThatâs ratherââ
âFlowers?â you interrupt and Florisâ smile falters ever so slightly as her blue eyes return to you.
Unlucky for her, youâve never been one to give up easily. You reach for your glass, holding it lazily between your fingers. Smiling tightly and tilting your head to the side, you continue your advances.Â
âYeah,â Floris shakily answers, âI meanâŠI donât know. I havenât really made up my miââ
âHave you read any good books recently?â you ask, taking a sip of wine. You watch Aemond begin to tap his fingers against the table out of the corner of your eye.
âOh um, not really,â Floris answers, âIâm not much of a reader.â
You flick an eyebrow up at that, glancing at Aemond. His pale blue eye holds your gaze, nostrils flaring. Interesting. Aegon and Jace have paused their side conversation.
âOh?â
The table is silent. Itâs like watching a cat play with a mouse. Aemondâs knuckles blanche as he curls his fingers in toward his palm. A waitress walks by, absentmindedly refilling the sweating glasses of water that line the table. Aemond says nothing; he doesnât jump to his girlfriendâs defense.
Doesnât look away from you.Â
Floris wets her lips, smiling politely up at the waitress as she refills her cup. She pauses for a moment, nervously sipping her water. Sheâs about three mimosas in; youâre sure the alcohol is working in your favor. A layer of nervous sweat covers her brow.Â
âI mean, I havenât reallyââ
âWhat about current events?â you continue to steamroll her, âAemond loves staying up to date he must be driving you crazy with all that. Especially with what's been going on recently in the Riverlands.â
âOh, well Iâm not really sureââ
âOh you arenât?â you ask in mock confusion, over dramatically pouting, âHmph. I assumed youâd be interested in his work. I mean as Aemondâs girlfriend and allââ
âOh well, thatâs actually a great segway,â Floris interrupts, her voice shriller than before, as if sheâs trying to regain control of the conversation.
You take another sip from your glass, allowing her interruption. Youâre enjoying her distressed state. A smile curves at the edge of your lips and you attempt to hide it behind your glass.Â
âWeâve just been having the loveliest time together, havenât we?â Floris says, pressing her hand against Aemondâs shoulder.
He makes a soft noise of approval and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. You catch his gaze again, the conversation fading into white noise.Â
Does Floris know sheâs been sleeping on the bed he ruined you on? Your cheeks grow hot. Just a few nights ago youâd been tied to the rails of their headboard. Guilt stabs you in the gut but you choose to ignore the uncomfortable feeling. Floris Baratheon means nothing to you. Sheâd do the same to you in a heartbeat. Thereâs no playing fair in these circles.Â
ââyou see we decided to get engaged!â
You choke on your wine, sputtering, and coughing. Droplets of wine stain the white tablecloth like little pink raindrops. Jace rubs a comforting hand on your back.Â
âAre you alright?â he asks, eyebrows furrowed with concern.
âSloppy girl you got there, Jacey,â Aegon snickers.Â
âIâm fine,â you manage in a hoarse voice, âJust went down the wrong way, thatâs all.â You can feel droplets of wine running down your chin, onto your neck, and down between your breasts.
Aegon raises his eyebrows, an amused smile on his face as his eyes shamelessly follow the river flowing down your chest. You wipe your chin as you stand from your chair, the legs scraping harshly against the wooden floor.
âIâll just go freshen up,â you tell everyone. Your throat tightens uncomfortably.Â
âDâyou want me to come with you?â Jace asks, rising halfway from his chair, his brown eyes wide.
âNo, Iâm fine,â you insist, pressing your hand against his shoulder until he sits back down, âIâll be right back.â
You donât look at Aemond, nor anyone else as you hurry past Rhaenyraâs table and between other patrons towards the restroom. Hurrying down the hallway and slamming the door shut behind you, you take a deep breath gazing at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes are wide and bloodshot from your coughing fit, and your chest is shiny and sticky from the wine.Â
âSeven fucking hells,â you grumble, grabbing one of the provided towels and wetting it in the sink. Cleaning yourself up, you try to stop your hands from shaking.Â
Engaged.Â
You shake your head, fixing your hair, trying to rid yourself of the thought.
Heâs fucking engaged.
Sleeping with Aemond Targaryen when he has a âgirlfriendâ is one thing. But fiancee? The thought makes your stomach tighten. Well, it shouldnât mean anything. You didnât care then. You shouldnât care now. You meet your eyes in the mirror, your stomach flipping unpleasantly. You shouldnât care. Your lower lip trembles, nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms.
Seven hells.
âWhat are you doing?â you whisper.
What have you been doing? You have a boyfriend. He has a fiancee. You press your hand against your forehead, breathing deeply as your heart thrums against your ribs. A wife practically. Gods if this got out. You donât even want to think about it. Rhaenyraâs campaign would be jeopardized. Everything youâve worked for. Youâve been so incredibly reckless.Â
This has to end.Â
The door opens and youâre torn from your thoughts as Aemond enters the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Of course, he followed you. You glare at him through the mirror.
âOut.â
âLet me explainââ
âGet out Aemond,â you demand, drying your hands, not turning to face him.
âI meant what I said,â he continues, taking a step forward, âItâs an arrangement thatâs all, a publicity stuntââ
âA publicity stunt? Youâre getting married,â you hiss, throwing the towel against the counter, meeting his eyes through the mirror once more. It feels hauntingly familiar, looking at him like this; the last time he was buried to the hilt inside of you. âGet. Out.â
âIt doesnât change anything,â he insists.
You laugh bitterly, finally turning to face him. Heâs standing inches away from you, so close you can smell the intoxicating scent of his cologne. It makes your head spin. Shit. Stay focused.
âDoesnât change anything?â you repeat, âSheâs going to be your wife.â
âDonât be such a child,â he snaps, causing you to flinch, âYou know how this works. People are paired off together all the time.â He takes a step forward and you back up, your ass nudging against the edge of the sink. âWhat did you think was going to happen, hm?â He steps even closer, his body completely caging you against the counter.
Aemond places his hands on either side of you. Heâs not wrong. You know how this world works. Families align with each other all the time through relationships and marriages. Itâs as if theyâre frozen in time using betrothals for political gain.Â
Just look at Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon. Their marriage was anything but a loving one. Her children are proof of that, clearly fathered by someone else. You remembered watching them arrive when you were in grade school; exiting the black limousine and not realizing who they were. Their father was rumored to be the head of the Secret Service at the time, Harwin Strong, though this was never confirmed.Â
âItâs not like Jace is going to let you go,â he murmurs, hands inching closer to your waist, âOr have you not thought that far ahead?â
His hands come to rest on your hips and he chuckles softly at the sound this elicits from you.
âYouâre in too deep,â he says, nose brushing against your cheek. His minty breath wafts over your face. One hand remains on your waist, the other trailing up the side of your ribs. Goosebumps bloom on your arms as he reaches your face.
âItâs for the election,â you whisper.
âThe waterâs over your head,â he murmurs, his hand caressing your cheek, âIf you think itâll end there, youâre not as smart as I thought you were. Youâre drowning.â
You swallow, lips parting to give him another snide remark, but he doesnât let you; the hand that cradles the side of your face pulls you forward and presses your lips to his. You push against his firm chest, disconnecting your lips with a wet pop. Your hand reaches toward your face, your fingertips pressing against your tingling lips.
âYouâre getting marriedââ
âAnd youâre fucking jealous,â he snarls, bringing his face inches away from yours. You suck in a surprised breath, cheeks warming as his lips curl into that familiar smug smirk, âWorried Floris is getting what youâve been missing?â
Humiliation makes your skin prickle; the hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Your fingers fall from your lips.
âFuck you,â you hiss from between clenched teeth, âI donât care.â
You try to push by him but his hands plant themselves on your middle, holding you firmly in front of him. His hands slide down your waist, cupping the globes of your ass. A disapproving whine leaves your lips as he squeezes the soft flesh harshly, lifting you onto the counter. Your fists beat against his chest and he grabs your wrists.
âYou care,â he insists, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck as you twist an arm from his grip to shove him, âOtherwise you wouldnât be behaving like a spoiled brat in front of everyone.â His lips press against your throat with every word he speaks.Â
One of his large hands moves up your back winding in your hair and tugging your head backwards. Your forearm presses against his shoulder attempting to push him away. Aemond hums appreciatively against your throat, pressing another soft kiss against it. Your breathing hitches as he continues to kiss your neck, warm desire pooling in your belly. You stop pushing, curling your hand into the fabric of his shirt instead, pulling him closer.Â
âItâs been three days,â he murmurs, continuing his exploration up your neck with his lips, nipping and sucking at the smooth skin, âThree days without this cock is driving you crazy, huh?â
âAemond,â you try to snap at him but itâs dangerously close to a moan, âTheyâll be waiting for usââ Youâre silenced by his fingers thrusting through your parted lips, pressing down against your tongue.Â
âShhh,â he hushes in a condescending tone, âI think that pretty mouth has said enough, donât you agree?â You watch him with wide eyes as he presses further down your throat until the tips of his fingers reach the rough surface of the back of your tongue causing you to gag. He moves his fingers back.
âCâmon, you can do better than that,â he scolds, tapping your cheek with his other hand. His eyes narrow as he presses his fingers further down your throat once more. Your throat constricts and you claw at his bicep, fighting the urge to gag again. You hollow your cheeks, sucking his three fingers in your mouth. âThere she is. Thatâs much betterâ thereâs a good girl, thatâs it.â
He removes his soaked fingers, a line of saliva still connected to your lips. Gasping for breath you feel him part your legs, his hand sneaking under your dress. You can feel his cool, wet fingers against your inner thighs.Â
âAemââ
âWhat did I say?â His words are clipped and irritated. His fingers graze against your clothed center, pressing lightly against your soaked center. You can feel how much you want him. How right he was about the jealousy that burns in your belly. Youâre sure he can feel it too.
A muffled whine leaves your lips as his fingers pull your panties to the side, parting your silky wet folds. Youâre embarrassingly wet already. Aemond chuckles darkly, fingers dipping against your entrance and gathering some of your arousal before circling your clit.
âYouâre begging to get fucked, you know that?â he asks, his voice husky and strained, âWalking around here looking like this.â The hand in your hair tightens and pinpricks of pleasure sting your scalp. âNeedy. Little. Slut.â His fingers pinch your clit on the last word and you cry out.
Aemond slams his lips against yours to silence your cry and you hook a leg around his slim waist, heel digging into his lower back pulling him closer. He kisses you feverishly like he means to devour you. Itâs sloppy and his teeth scrape against your lip but you donât care. Itâs been days without him speaking to you, let alone touching you. Youâve felt like you were going crazy.
Not that you were about to admit that to him.
Your breathing is turning to pants as he continues to kiss you, fingers circling your bud with determined precision. Your eyebrows scrunch together as the current of pleasure in your abdomen winds tighter, and your toes begin to curl. You whine against his mouth and he shushes you once more.
âShut the fuck up,â he growls through an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth.Â
You accept it greedily and your limbs turn to jelly when he licks at the roof of your mouth. One hand clings to his bicep, nails digging into the hardened muscle while the other winds around his neck and tangles in his hair. His hand dips lower, two fingers stretching inside of your warm waiting pussy.Â
âThatâs it,â he murmurs as you shudder at the stretch, âFucking câmon thenââ his fingers crook upwards pressing against the spongy section of your walls that has your back arching, and black spots dancing across your vision.
âGodsââ you whine, clenching around his digits as his thumb presses against your clit. His fingers are longer and thicker than your own; youâd indulged yourself several times the past few days but masturbation was nothing compared to the pleasure Aemond is able to give you.Â
âThis is all you needed, huh?â he asks, steadily beginning to finger you, focusing all his attention on caressing your sweet spot. âOh yeah. Youâre so much happier with my fingers buried inside this tight little cunt, huh?â Your face flushes as he speaks to you. Every stroke of his fingers sends waves of pleasure washing over you. Your jaw slacks, eyes squeezing shut. Every nerve ending in your body is singing as he pushes you closer and closer to the edge.Â
âYou want my mouth on this sweet little pussy?â he asks gruffly, his face pressed against yours, âTell me how badly you want it. Câmon. Tell me.â The squelching sound of his fingers is borderline pornographic in the small space.
âYes!â you wail.
âBeg me,â his voice is rough, the commanding tone causing your walls to spasm around his lengthy digits.Â
âPlease,â you whine, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He knows your body so well. Too damn well. Every curl of his fingers incessantly bullies against your sweet spot. You can feel your walls pulsating around his fingers, squeezing him tighter and tighter and tighter.Â
âPlease what, baby?â
Your teeth are clenched together, and a whimper gets caught in your throat. Your eyes roll back in your skull as he slows his pace stroking just right. Your head tilts back gently tapping against the mirror, mouth hanging open in bliss as you try to find the words.Â
âPleaseâplease I need your mouthââ
âYeah?â he says, an amused, open-mouthed grin slashed across his face, âWhere?â
Seven hells heâs relentless. You bite your lip hard enough to draw blood, your heel presses against his buttock, your back arching off the counter desperately grinding against his hand for more friction. Gods youâre practically fucking yourself on his hand your hips rutting against his palm.
âPlease! Please on my pusââ Your sentence dies as Aemond kneels in front of you. âAemondâoh god,â you moan as he presses his face against you, one hand holding your panties to the side, as his tongue slides over your aching clit.
âSince you begged,â he murmurs, suckling your clit between his lips and sucking; tongue lavishing the sensitive button with even strokes.
His tongue is deliciously warm and firm, tracing little circles around your clit and making your mind go blank, the last few moments forgotten. His fingers stroke the rough patch at the front of your sensitive walls and he presses against it with brutal determination.Â
Your thighs shake around his head, fingers tangling in his hair as the pressure in your belly builds, winding tighter and tighter until at last white-hot pleasure bursts through you; your muscles go taut and you cry out, slamming the back of your hand against your mouth to stifle the noise as you release barrels through you.Â
He fucks you through it, a low rumble of appreciation bursting through his chest as the wet, sucking sound of his fingers grows louder with your release. The pleasure is almost too much; it ignites you completely.Â
A rush of air enters the small space and your head snaps up. Aemond is quick to stand, mouth falling away from you and your release fizzles out.Â
Daemon leans against the doorframe, a knowing smirk on his face as he purses his lips. His eyes follow the length of Aemondâs arm down to where it disappears still beneath your dress. Aemondâs fingers slip out of your pussy, the soaked digits dragging a wet path down against your inner thighs leaving you despairingly empty.
âCarry on,â Daemon murmurs, letting the door close behind him as he exits.
Blood rushes in your ears and the room begins to spin. Itâs like Daemon took all the air in the room with him. Black spots appear in your vision.Â
âFuck,â youâre nearly panting, âOh godsââ Your mind is beginning to spiral, the high of pleasure leaving your limbs. âShit,â you breathe, fixing your panties, hopping off of the counter, ââfuck.â
Aemond reaches for the sink, and he turns it on calmly, beginning to wash his hands.Â
âRelax.â
âRelax?â
He shuts off the faucet, drying his hands as he faces you.
âHeâs not going to sayââ
âAemond,â you stop him, holding your hand up, âJust donât.â
Fixing yourself quickly, Aemond stands in stony silence as you open the door and flee the bathroom. You return to the table, not looking at anyone. Sitting beside Jace you reach for your wine, downing the rest of it, trying to ignore the ache between your legs.Â
Aemond rejoins a moment later, reclaiming his seat next to Floris. She holds out the menu, pointing at something trying to show him. It takes him a moment to get back into character. You watch him blink before slinging an arm over the back of her chair and leaning into her, seemingly very interested in what sheâs showing him.Â
You place your glass on the table, your leg bouncing uncontrollably. Helaena watches you, lilac eyes narrowed. Turning away from her scrutinizing gaze you subtly glance at Rhaenyraâs table.
Daemon meets your eyes, raising his glass to salute you.
Fuck.
You forgo dinner later that day, claiming the sun has gone to your head. Hiding beneath the silk sheets of you and Jaceâs bed seems like a much better way to spend the evening. You try to busy yourself on your phone but your thoughts keep going back to Daemon. The smirk he wore, the look in his eyes.
Caught you.
Your stomach turns and suddenly the blue light is making you feel nauseous and you throw your phone across the room. The sun bleeds orange tendrils of light across the floor as it lowers over the horizon, the hours ticking by as you lay in silence.Â
The door creaks open when the room is shrouded in darkness. The mattress dips as Jace sits, placing a comforting hand on your back.
âHey,â he says softly, rubbing slow circles over the covers, âHowâre you feeling?â
âMiserable,â you answer truthfully.
âIâm sorry baby,â he murmurs, âDo you want me to stay?â
âNo,â you tell him, âIâm sure thereâs something planned, you should join them.â
âItâs just a movie,â he tells you, âJoffrey picked it. Some crazy action film.â
âCharming,â you grumble as he places a kiss on the top of your head.
âCan I bring you something later?â he asks, and you donât answer, âGet some rest.â
He gently closes the door as he leaves and the nausea comes back. You donât deserve him. Jace knows, youâre sure of it. He knows thereâs someone else. Heâs just too nice to say anything.Â
Whether he knows itâs Aemond youâve been sleeping with is a different story.
It should make you feel worse than it does.Â
You sit up, throwing off the covers suddenly very hot. You canât sit in this room anymore, canât lie down and sulk. Itâs driving you up a wall, making you want to crawl out of your skin. You need fresh air. Rising from the bed, you throw on a pair of shorts and a simple t-shirt along with some flip-flops.Â
The hallway is quiet when you enter; everyone must still be in the theater room or have gone to bed. You quickly pad down the stairs, the sound of your flip-flops echoing through the grand entryway as they slap against the marble staircase. Heading through the spacious kitchen you open the sliding glass doors and head out the back towards the pool.Â
You see him as soon as you step onto the patio. Heâs standing at the far end of the pool, a lit cigarette dangling from his perfect mouth. He glances at you, the cherry red tip pointed in your direction. Heâs taken his hair down, the silver waves ripple over his shoulders.Â
The pool is filled with lights dancing on the blue surface; little lotus flowers holding candles. A basket of beach towels sits next to the door and you grab one. Aemond watches your movements as you walk along the side of the pool coming closer to him.
âWhat are you doing?â you ask, watching him crush the cigarette under his shoe.
âCouldnât sleep.â
âDidnât know you smoked.â
âOnly during times of stress.â
You nod, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. You donât ask him to follow you, but he does all the same as you continue to walk the edge of the pool until you reach the beginning of the yard. You walk on the grass until you reach the dimly lit cobblestone path youâd seen during the tour of Summerhall house Alicent had given the day youâd arrived. Fairy lights have been strung along the railing that leads down to a small private beach giving the path a feeling of perpetual summer. Aemondâs footsteps echo behind you sounding heavier than your own.Â
As you arrive at the end of the steps you remove your shoes. Your feet sink into the sand, cooler now with the blazing summer sun not hanging overhead.Â
âYou shouldnât swim at night,â Aemond comments.
âIâm not going to swim,â you tell him, placing your shoes on the last step, âAre you coming?â
Aemond hums, hesitating for a moment as he holds your gaze. He truly looks ethereal with the moonlight casting shadows along the angles of his face. That chiseled jaw, those striking cheekbones. His prominent long nose. He could have gone into modeling if not politics, that youâre sure of.Â
You walk side by side further down the beach before you spread the towel and sit on top of it. You pat the spot beside you and he accepts the silent invitation to sit. For a moment neither of you speak, staring out at the waves that gently lap against the shore. The lights of the city are visible from here, just shiny little stars sparkling against the horizon.Â
You can feel his gaze shift as he looks at you. What was it he said to you a few days ago?
You canât fool me.
âI can speak to Daemon,â Aemond says softly, âMake sure he doesnâtâŠâ
âDonât bother,â you cut him off, âYou and I are a ticking time bomb. It could have been anyone walking in on us.â
At least it was Daemon. If he releases it, heâll spin it to make Aemond look like the sleaze; cheating on poor, doe-eyed Floris Baratheon. You donât even want to think about the possibility of Otto or Alicent walking in on you.Â
Itâs always easier to scandalize women.Â
If Daemon spoke to Rhaenyra, sheâd make him leave your name out of it. Nameless, faceless. Just some girl. Curiosity gnaws at you.Â
âWhy wouldnât you say something?â you ask him suddenly, âYou could get on top of this before Daemon goes to the press. Heâll ruin you with this.â
âIâm not worried,â Aemond responds coolly, âIâm not scared of a little scandal.â
You think back to the stories youâd heard about him. The dutiful son with his sprinkle of bad decisions. Aemond cleans up his messes, unlike his elder.Â
âI suppose your family is very protective of your reputation,â you agree, tucking your knees against your chest.
âYou donât have that sort of protection,â he says softly.
Itâs true. The Targaryen and Hightower names are like royalty compared to everyone else. Sucking your lower lip between your teeth, you slowly shake your head.Â
âNo,â you agree, âI donât.â
âIâm not going to say anything,â he clarifies, âI expect Aegon to win this campaign without the additional nonsense.â
You snort out a laugh. Even now he canât help but try and push your buttons. Itâs inevitable, the two of you. Always trying to one-up one another.Â
âYeah okay. Well, weâll see about that. Besides, Rhaenyraâs numbers have increased steadily since the debate,â you tell him, bumping your shoulder against his. The small contact leaves a burning feeling where your skin meets his.Â
âDonât count your eggs before they hatch,â he softly teases.
âI know my chickens.â
Aemond frowns, giving you a quizzical look. âThatâs not a saying.â
âSays who?â you ask, arching a brow at him.Â
This is easy, this is good. Just banter. Just Aemond versus you. Itâs much more simple when youâre on opposite sides of the playing field.Â
âSurely someone,â he says leaning back against his hands.
The waves crash loudly against the rocks and seafoam sizzles against the sand. The moonlight reflects off of the top of the surf sending a silver trail down the middle of the water, splitting it neatly in two.Â
âWhy?â you softly ask, tapping your fingers against your calves.
âWhy what?â Aemond asks.
âWhy arenât you going to say anything?â
Aemond stares at you, his gaze burning into the side of your face until you canât stand it. Turning your head, you meet his heated gaze.Â
âYou know why.â
Your head tilts to the side, eyes not leaving his. âThatâs a problem.â
âIt doesnât have to be,â Aemond insists, âIf weâre careful.â Aemond wets his lips, âWhat do you want?â
Your heart is beating so fast against your ribs it's almost painful. You place your palms against the towel, pushing against it trying to ground yourself.Â
âThisâŠâ you struggle to find the words, opting for another shake of your head, âThis will never work. You and I; we hate each other.â
âYes,â Aemond agrees, his hand moving on top of yours.
âAnd youâre engaged,â you continue as his fingers lace through yours. Oh gods. There it is. That ache deep inside of you; a bottomless pit of want that threatens to swallow you whole.Â
âIâm engaged,â he agrees, reaching over to stroke your cheek, âAnd youâre with Jace.â
His thumb strokes your cheekbone, hand cradling your jaw. The action is affectionate and caring. Itâs so tender, so endearing you almost burst into tears.Â
âIâm with Jace,â itâs barely a whisper, âIâm withââ You donât get a chance to finish. His mouth is on yours before Jaceâs name leaves your lips. Thereâs only Aemond.
You fall into the familiar rhythm quickly as he climbs on top of you, kissing you all the while. The sounds of the waves are deafening, matching the beating of your heart, of blood rushing in your ears. Itâs too much and not enough at the same time. You want to lose yourself in the sound, in the feeling of him on top of you, pressing against you. Heâs everything. Heâs all-consuming.Â
Itâs too late for anything else.Â
Youâve already been devoured.Â
The heat of the morning sun wakes you, a light sheen of sweat covering you. The side of your face itches and you bring a hand to it, brushing away some sand. Sand sticks to your legs and arms. Aemond lays beside you on his back, an arm thrown over his eye to block the sun.Â
âWe fell asleep,â you tell him, squinting at the rising sunlight.
Whirl. Click!
A noise startles you. Must be the birds. Pushing yourself into a seated position, you brush some sand from your arm. Aemond turns onto his side, throwing an arm lazily over your outstretched legs. His hand curls against the meat of your thigh causing you to chuckle.
âSomeoneâs needy,â you tease, combing some hair from his face.Â
He growls his eye remaining shut, but the corner of his mouth quirks in a smile.
Whirl. Click! Whirl.
Craning your neck, you raise your arms above your head, yawning as you stretch. A sliver of flesh is exposed as you do so, and Aemond reaches his hand to grasp your waist, tugging you closer. You definitely shouldnât have fallen asleep. Jace is probably worried sick. You pat your shorts. Shit. Youâd left your phone as well.
âTheyâll be looking for us,â you tell him, attempting to escape his grasp.
âLet them look,â he says, voice rough with sleep, as he pulls you close, pressing a sloppy kiss to your lips.
Click!
You turn. Thereâs that noise again. As your ears adjust, youâre less sure that itâs simply the sounds of the birds rustling in their nests. The waves crash against the rocks, and you look over the dunes as the sea breeze rustles through them.
There it is.Â
A photographer, laying on his belly in the dunes, camera held at the ready. Whirl. Click! Your heart drops into your stomach. Youâre going to be sick, for real this time.Â
You should have known.
Pushing away from Aemond, you pull your shirt down, dusting off the remaining sand.
âYouâre a real fucking asshole,â you hiss, pulling the towel out from under him.Â
Aemond frowns at the sudden change, watching as you shake the towel out before chucking it in his direction. He catches it, leaning back slightly, surprised at the force of your throw.
âWhat?â Aemond says, face a mask of confusion.
âShame I wasnât in some skimpy suit, bet the press would have a field day putting those photos side by side with you and Floris,â you tell him scoffing, âI shouldâve fucking known better.â
He calls your name. You donât turn back, shielding your face as you hear the click of the camera once more attempting to save whatever dignity you have left. You can hear Aemond struggle to sand as you move toward the stairs, slipping on your shoes. His hand wraps around your forearm as you begin to climb them, halting your steps.Â
âThis was not me,â he insists, âLook, Stormâs End yes, I did that but I had nothing to do with thisââ
âI am such a fucking idiot,â you snap, ignoring him.
âI swear it-â You tug your arm away from his grasp, his expression crestfallen.
âI donât even know why Iâm surprised,â you tell him, laughing bitterly, âLike I didnât know who I was dealing with.â
Aemondâs lips part, but he says nothing. You open your mouth to speak again.
Click! Whirl. Click!
âFucking hells,â you mumble, turning away and running up the steps back towards the main house.Â
Tears stream down your face, hot and wet as you continue to climb. Theyâve already got their money shot. You wonât give them one of you crying as well.
Summary: Elyse struggles to adjust to the changes in the realm post-civil war.
Warnings: 18+ fic, mentions of blood
note: ohmygoodness. can you believe it's been a year since I started this? I know I took a bit of a break but I had some inspiration and returned to them!
Chapter 19: Happiness
Kingâs Landing is colder than the Reach. Aemond pulls Elyse close as they ride in the wheelhouse to the castle. The ride is bumpy against the old cobblestones and Elyse clings to her husband like he is the only thing anchoring her to this realm.Â
They had flown on Vhagar for the majority of the journey home but as they got closer to the walls of Kingâs Landing they had to leave her. Vhagar does not fit inside these walls. Elyse wonders if she does anymore either.Â
Elyse buries her face against Aemondâs neck, and his arms tighten around her.Â
âItâs alright,â he murmurs, lips against her cheek.
She wonders if sheâll ever be able to be parted from him again. Since being reunited sheâd not strayed far from his side. Elyse had awoken to him missing from bed in the middle of the night and nearly lost her mind in a moment of madness. Heâd returned moments later to her collapsed on the floor, choked with sobs.
âDo not do that,â she demanded through her tears as he consoled her on the stone floor.
Sheâd followed him since. Hypervigilant and constantly aware, fingers twitching to Elenei strapped at her side. Sheâd forgone the thigh strap, preferring it to hang against her waist. More accessible that way.Â
The wheelhouse stops and Elyse opens her eyes.Â
âHome,â Aemond murmurs, âWeâre home issa jorrÄelagon.â
note: we're at the point in the semester where some fluff is desperately needed. quick little fluffy story, hope you enjoy!
When you enter your dimly lit apartment, classical music is playing from the record player Helaena gifted you for your birthday last year. Youâre arriving home much later than usual as seems to be the theme for the past couple of weeks. It nearly broke your heart to text Aemond again earlier, telling him you had to stay late at work.
Aemond is seated in his usual spot on the couch, a book in front of him, round glasses perched on the bridge of his noseâyour favorite pair of his; the round ones with the brown frames. A cream-colored cable-knit sweater covers his torso, a blanket haphazardly thrown over his lower half.Â
Vhagar sits in the space between his legs, curled up and purring softly. Sheâs always most content around Aemond, though sheâs grown accustomed to your presence since you moved in together. She lazily opens a green eye, and Aemond turns his head at the sound of the door closing. He smiles at you, before returning to his book.
âHello, love,â he softly greets, turning a page.
âHey,â you answer with a sigh, unable to hide the exhaustion from the day.Â
Aemond looks up from his book again, closing it with one hand. He knows you so well, if your voice is even a little off he catches it. You hang up your raincoat and place your shoes on the neighboring rack. Itâs been raining nonstop for the past week; the weather matches your mood.
âWhatâs happened?â
âNothing,â you tell him, walking toward the living room. You deposit your bag on the armchair before sitting next to him on the couch, âJust a long day, thatâs all.â
Aemond hums, placing his hands under Vhagar who meows unhappily as he gently places her on the floor. She shakes, tall puffing in annoyance and glares at you, knowing you must be the reason for her disturbance. She trots away, her tummy pouch swinging as she disappears down the hall.Â
âCâmere,â Aemond beckons and you scoot closer, leaning into him.Â
He places an arm around your shoulders pulling you closer as you tuck your knees under you up on the couch. Leaning into his chest you breathe in the scent of his cologne. You canât help but feel tears well in your eyes as his hand strokes a path down your arm and you unconsciously snuggle closer to him, sniffling slightly.
âWhat happened?â Aemond asks again, his voice soft and low.Â
Aemond is quiet for a moment, continuing his smooth strokes on your arm. You can hear the steady beat of his heart through the sweater he wears, the sound comforting.Â
âDo you want to talk about it?â he asks.
âNot really,â you admit.
âOkay,â he agrees.
You stay beside him for a few moments in comfortable silence before he speaks again.Â
âTell you what,â he murmurs, âHow about you unwind, take a nice shower, and get all comfortable and Iâll make you something to eat.â
You glance up at him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes.
âGrilled cheese?â you ask hopefully.
âWith soup?â he asks, and you eagerly nod causing him to chuckle, âComing right up.â
Reluctantly you pull yourself away from him, but the promise of a home-cooked comfort meal is enough encouragement to get unready. You take your time in the shower, Vhagar sitting outside the glass doors and licking the condensation that forms from the steam. Showing yourself some love you use every single product you own; scrubbing, lathering, and deep conditioning yourself into a state of euphoria.Â
You wrap your fluffiest towel around yourself and take the extra time to dry your hair before throwing it into a claw clip. Scooping Vhagar with you, you walk down the hall to your bedroom, depositing her on the bed. She used to resist when you tried to carry her, but now sheâs as limp as a ragdoll and brushes herself against you in appreciation before curling up between the pillows.Â
Aemondâs shirts are the comfiest to wear, they engulf you like nothing else. Itâs a bit chilly tonight, and you instead choose a large sweater of his. You tease him about it, calling it his âold man sweaterâ due to the pattern. That, paired with your favorite silk sleep shorts, and youâre in a much better mood. Heading back toward the kitchen, your stomach rumbles at the scent of chicken soup.Â
Aemond stands at the stove, mixing his concoction. Heâs lit a few candles and turned on the fairy lights that hang around the ceiling giving your apartment a warm glow.
âSit,â he orders, giving you a small smirk.
Happily you pad over to the couch, throwing the blanket over your bare legs. Aemond is over not a minute later, placing two steaming bowls of chicken noodle soup on the coffee table, and then returning with two grilled cheeses. Eagerly scooting forward, you grab the sandwich and take a bite. You barely suppress a moan, along with your eyes rolling back in your head.Â
âSeven hells,â you mutter, taking another bite; the cheese pulling into long strings of gooey perfection.
Aemond chuckles, âIs it good?â
âIâm in love with you,â you tell him, sighing contentedly.
âYou know, if that was the first time hearing you say that, Iâd be insulted,â he teases.
âWhy?â you ask, âWasnât it your chef skills that won me over in the first place?â
âYouâre very funny,â he says, smirking slightly.
You sit with Aemond, feet thrown across his lap as you eat dinner together. Aemond chooses one of your favorite films to put on in the background as you chat about his day and enjoy your soup. Aemond finishes first, he always eats rather quickly and begins massaging your calves trying to release some of the remaining tension in your limbs.
âAre you sure you donât want to talk about it?â he says, broaching the topic once more as his hand slides down to your foot.Â
You let out a small groan of appreciation as his fingers move lower to dig into the arch of your foot.Â
âIt was just a lot today,â you admit, âI just feel like Iâm burning out. Itâs just a lot to balance with everything going onâŠâ
âI know love, youâre almost there,â Aemond encourages, âIt wonât be like this much longer, and youâre doing such a good job.â
His praise warms you like a fire, the sincere look in his blue eyes making your heart sing.
You pull your legs from his grip and shuffle forward, bringing your lips to his, kissing him sweetly before burying your face against him as you did earlier. He pulls you close, arm wrapped around you and tracing lazy circles on your thigh underneath the blanket. You rest against him, listening to his heartbeat as the movie drones on. Soon, lulled by the sound of his heart, your eyelids become heavy and you slip into sleep.Â
It feels like youâve been sleeping a long time. When you open your eyes youâre still in the living room, the clock displays the time is 2 a.m. Aemond sits, awake still, trapped underneath you. Heâd settled for his Kindle this time and held it in one hand, turning the page with the tap of his finger.Â
âAemond,â you murmur, voice thick with sleep as you push yourself into a seated position, âYou shouldâve woken me.â
âItâs alright,â he insists, placing his kindle down on the table beside him, âHowâd you sleep?â
âVery well,â you admit, sitting back on your haunches, âGods. Itâs late.â
Aemond hums in agreement, watching you stretch your arms above your head, revealing a sliver of your stomach. He reaches out, unable to help himself, placing a hand on your hip. You drop your arms, smiling at him lovingly.Â
âDo you feel better?â he asks.
âMhmm,â you answer, scooting closer, âI happen to have the best boyfriend.â
âOh, do you?â he asks, tugging you closer by your thigh.Â
You spread your legs, letting him drag you across his lap until youâre straddling his waist. Leaning forward, you nuzzle against his neck, placing soft kisses along his throat as you wrap your arms around him. Aemond releases a soft groan, his hands palming the swell of your ass and you wiggle against him, getting as close as possible.Â
One of his hands snakes underneath your sweater, his large palm pressing into the small of your back. A shiver rolls down your spine and you swivel your hips against him.
âBabyâŠâ he murmurs, turning his face toward you and placing a kiss on your cheek.
âWhat?â you murmur, nipping the pale skin of his throat. Aemondâs hand runs up and down your back, the other gripping your thigh. You can feel him growing harder beneath you; the increasing pressure between your legs growing with every shift of your hips against his.
âI should put you to bed,â he groans as you press your lips against the cool metal of his chain, âFuck issa hÄedar dĆna (my sweet girl).â Â Â Â Â
You smile, dragging your lips to meet his in a slow, sensual kiss. Once Aemond starts slipping into High Valyrian, you know youâve got him where you want him. His lips are soft and warm against your own as you continue to kiss him at an unhurried pace, simply enjoying being close to him.Â
You sigh as his lips move down, tracing the curve of your jaw and finding a home below your ear, kissing the sensitive spot there as you drag your nails across his scalp.
âTell me what you need, gevie,â he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear.
 âNeed you, Aem,â you tell him, âPlease, just need you.â
âShhh I know, I know,â he gently coos, âIâll take care of you issa jorrÄelagon (my love).â Â
You and Aemond stay up much longer than anticipated, finally retiring to your shared bedroom as the first beams of sunlight begin to trickle through your windows. When you wake youâre snuggled against Aemond, the blankets cradling you both in a warm cocoon.Â
âIâve called out for you,â Aemond tells you as youâre pressed against his chest, âYouâre going to spend the whole day in bed.â
âAemond,â you giggle, âI canât possibly be that lazy-â
âOh yes you can,â he insists, arms tightening around you, âIâve called out as well. So youâve nothing to worry about.â He places a kiss on your head before hovering on top of you.Â
âNow,â he says, head dipping to kiss your collarbone, âLetâs quiet that beautiful brain of yours, shall we?â
âOh?â you breathe as he continues to kiss up your neck, âAnd how do you plan to do that?â
Aemond hums against you, and you can feel his grin.
âWell, weâve got all day to find out, havenât we?â
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note: this was so fun to revisit and explore DIF!Aegon my beloved! remember this guy? Well here he is! Enjoy loves!
âFuck, stop stop!â Aegon says, tearing the headphones from his ears.
Helaena frowns at him from her spot outside the recording booth. Her silver hair has been plaited down her back, silver mirror ball earrings catching the light as she looks up. She presses the intercom and speaks into the mic.
âWhatâs wrong?â she asks, rubbing her temple.
âIt justâŠ.shit,â Aegon says, running a hand through his hair, âIt feels weirdâŠlike Iâm gonna have a fucking heart attack or something.â
Aegonâs never sung sober.Â
He is approaching his year mark this time around. The longest heâd ever gone. Helaena wonât let him forget. Sheâs always been the most supportive; thatâs why Aegon agreed to this in the first place.
âItâs a part of recovery,â Helaena had told him, the first time heâd relapsed.Â
Three months out of treatment. Heâd never felt lower. Of course, with Helaenaâs help heâd gotten right back on the wagon. Alicent had made a few calls and he was back in detox. You need to find different ways of coping with stress. Stress. Yeah. That was it.Â
In and out. Up and down. In and out.Â
But that was then and this was now. He was tired of feeling this way.
âTake five,â Helaena tells him, giving him an encouraging nod.Â
Aegon breathes deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes shut. He can hear Helaena enter the booth, moments before her hands wrap around him, embracing him in a tight hug. Her face squished against his back, nose pressing in between his shoulder blades.
âIâm sorry,â Aegon says, voice thick with emotion. He can feel the tears gathering behind his eyes and he refuses to open them, âI didnât think-â
âItâs alright,â Helaena murmurs, releasing him and rubbing a comforting hand across his back, âDonât you dare apologize to me.â
Aegon bites his tongue, nearly wanting to apologize yet again.Â
There was nothing like Aegon and Helaena singing together. Their voices complimented each other perfectly. It was one of the reasons Dracarys became so huge. One of the reasons Aegon agreed to record with Helaena again. There was no coming back for the band; after everything went down in flames nearly two years ago, Aegon had hung up his microphone for good.Â
But when Helaena tentatively broached the subject of re-recording one of the first songs theyâd performed for a limited release, it was hard to refuse her. And though Aegon hated to admit it, he missed making music. He had been forced into it by his grandfather when he was a child, and though there were rarely any happy memories surrounding his music, there was still some familiar comfort.Â
Aegon always craved a drink when he sang. Lyrics and liquor leave the same cloying aftertaste in his mouth. He sighs, breathing heavily as Helaena rests against him.
âI know youâre trying to be kind,â she murmurs, still rubbing circles on his back, âBut you really donât have to do this.â
âI want to,â Aegon insists, âJust- just give me a minute.â
Helaena nods, pulling away from him. She moves across the small booth, the wide arms of her green shirt ghosting behind her as she does.Â
âIâm going to grab us some lunch,â she tells him, âWhat dâyou want?â
âWhatever youâre having,â Aegon grumbles, sitting on the provided stool.
âDoubt you want a harvest bowl,â Helaena says, cocking an eyebrow at him. Aegon groans.Â
âWould it kill you to eat something other than rabbit food?â Aegon teases, rubbing his eyes and cracking a small smile.
âA burger it is then,â Helaena says, leaving the room.Â
Aegon sighs, removing the headphones from his neck and letting them rest on the microphone in front of him. He glances over at the instruments. The guitar, the bass, the drumset. Ghosts that wonât disappear.Â
The door creaks open and Aegon turns, surprised at how quickly Helaena has returned. Sheâs got a terrible habit of never leaving a room with everything she came in with. Helaena leaves a trail of breadcrumbs wherever she goes, her belongings strewn about every room she enters. Â
âForget your keys?â he calls but is greeted by someone who is not his sister.
A girl stands, wide-eyed, holding a stack of papers in her arms and a camera bag slung across her shoulder. Sheâs pretty. Very pretty, Aegon notes to himself.Â
âSorry,â she says, looking sheepishly toward the floor, âWeâve got this space reserved for half past three.â
Aegon glances at his watch. Shit. Heâd wasted Helaenaâs afternoon.
âRight,â he says, hurrying to gather himself, âSorry.â
âItâs no problem,â she says, smiling politely.Â
Aegon moves to exit just as she enters, and they get stuck in an awkward dance trying to let the other pass. She chuckles nervously, the sound ringing in Aegonâs head like bells. Like music.Â
He pauses as she squeezes by him, watching her drop her things and take out her camera.Â
âYou a musician?â Aegon asks, leaning against the doorframe.
âGods no,â she says, checking the settings of her camera, âJust a photographer. You know The Iron Fleet?âÂ
Aegon nods, recognizing the name of the rising heavy metal band. Theyâre good, very good. A little rowdy from what heâs seen splashed across the tabloids, but who is he to judge?
âTheyâre my next shoot. Wanted some shots in the studio,â she tells him, glancing up. She tells him her name, though Aegon is a bit distracted by her eyes; bright and framed with long lashes.Â
âIâm-â
âI know who you are,â she interrupts, before pressing her lips together tightly and shaking her head, âSorry, that was rude. I just- I knew Dracarys thatâs all.â
âOh,â Aegon says, feeling his face burn with embarrassment, âYou donât have the best impression of me then.â
âNot the worst either,â she tells him, flashing a crooked smile.Â
You donât even know the worst of it, Aegon thinks to himself. There it is again, forming in his stomach, that feeling of guilt. The wave of regret grows so big it threatens to drown him completely if he allows it. He swallows the lump forming in his throat.Â
She seems to notice his discomfort and glances away, back down at her camera.
âDo you want to see something?â she asks, beckoning him forward with a nod of her head.
Aegon walks over slowly, his hands in his pockets. Heâs feeling anxious now, and if his hands arenât balled into tight fists heâll bite his fingernails until they bleed.Â
âThis was a few nights ago,â she says, showing him a photo of the lead singer of The Iron Fleet, mid-smashing his guitar to pieces onstage.
âSeven hells,â he murmurs, leaning closer to see, âThatâs a great shot.â
âThanks! Thought a shard of guitar was going to take my eye out,â she says with a chuckle, âBut I got it! Firefly Weekly paid my rent for that shot.â
Aegon raises an eyebrow, âImpressive.â
âCheers,â she answers, âWhat were you up to?â
âOh I wasâŠit was nothing,â Aegon says, scratching the back of his neck.
âHmm,â she says, âWere you singing?â
âTrying to, I suppose,â Aegon answers, âItâs beenâŠâ Fuck. How does he even begin to explain this to a stranger? A pretty stranger nonetheless. âItâs been a while.â
Aegon never used to struggle talking to women. Charming them. Seducing them into bed with him. It was like a game almost, thatâs how easy it was. Collecting them like charms on a bracelet. The past swirls down the drain in his mind much like his old stash of booze. Itâs a whole new ballgame now. And itâs been fucking hard to learn the rules.
âYeah,â she agrees, as if she knows exactly what heâs talking about, âIâm glad youâre doing better.â
âThank you,â he says, meaning it completely. He doesnât know what heâs done to win her kindness, but he appreciates it.
The studio doors open and the members of The Iron Fleet begin to pour in. Aegon smiles awkwardly, shuffling backward toward the door. Heâll wait for Helaena outside.Â
âMaybe Iâll see you around?â the girl calls, just as heâs slipping out the door.
Aegon pauses, looking back at her.
âYeah,â he answers, âIâll see you around.â
âDo you ever sing?â Aegon says, sitting and pulling the guitar onto his lap.
She moves to join him, sitting on the stool in front of him. Theyâve been playing this game for a while now, running into each other at the studio. Each day, Aegon sings a little more; the music coming back to life within him.Â
âA little bit,â she admits, her cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink, âJust for fun though, nothing serious. Iâm not a musician.âÂ
Aegon snorts, dismissing her put-down. He reaches for his notebook and licks his thumb, flipping through the pages.Â
âI bet you sound lovely. Here,â he murmurs, finding the page he was looking for.
She takes it from his hand, reading the chicken scratch handwriting as he begins to strum a few chords. Aegonâs hands are steady as he plays. The guitar is an extra limb, the sweet sound of music filling the booth. He nods, encouraging her. She straightens, clearing her throat, eyes scanning the page before she begins.Â
Thereâs a monster in my bedroom
A beast beneath the boardsÂ
He comes out when I am lonelyÂ
Summoned by the chords-
That I play on my guitar in the silence of my room
Empty bottleÂ
Bad decisions
Anger taken out on you
She pauses, looking up at him. Aegon nods to continue, still strumming his guitar. He remembers writing it. He remembers everything. She clears her throat.Â
Here it comes, the burden on my brow
It lies heavy, it is weighted
My bed becomes my shroud
Here Iâll lie, for the rest of my days
Withering and rottedÂ
Ivory flesh turns to grayÂ
She stops as Aegon finishes, meeting her eyes.
âItâs very sad,â she comments, âBeautiful, really, but terribly sad.â
âThatâs one of mine,â Aegon says, bringing his thumb to his mouth, and chewing on the skin. A nervous habit.Â
âI didnât know you wrote,â she says.
âHelaena usually,â he comments, watching her hands hold the notebook, âBut yeah.â
âItâs good,â she tells him, handing him his notebook, âReally good, Aegon. You have a gift.â
âItâs been wasted,â he says with a dark chuckle.
âNot entirely,â she tells him, and he meets her eyes once more, âLife is full of second chances.â
âYou sing beautifully,â Aegon compliments, not so subtly trying to get the attention off of him, âYou sure youâre not in a band?â
She laughs, amusement evident in her eyes.Â
âYouâre trying to distract me,â she teases.
âYouâre starting to know me well,â he tells her, feeling his chest tighten with longing.
Heâs been struggling with women ever sinceâŠ.well ever since his last relationship. He was in such a bad place, mentally, emotionally, and physically. Ever since then, ever since fully understanding how he treated his last partner. Well, Aegon doesnât know if heâs even worthy of love anymore.
Ever since then.
Ever since her.
âYour thoughts are loud, Mr. Tortured Artist,â she teases, tearing him from his thoughts.
He blinks, giving her a cheeky grin.Â
âSorry. Just reminiscing,â he says softly.
âAbout what?âÂ
âA different life,â he tells her, âA different me.â
âI like this Aegon,â she tells him, smiling softly.Â
âTheyâre one and the same, Iâm afraid.â
âYes,â she agrees, âBut this one knows something the other doesnât.â
Aegonâs eyebrows knit together and he looks at her curiously.
âWhatâs that?â
âThings will get better.â
Aegon chuckles, âStill not completely sure thatâs true.â
They sit in silence once more. Itâs not uncomfortable, and Aegon doesnât shy away from her gaze.Â
âDo you want to talk about it?â she asks.Â
It. No, not it.Â
Her.Â
Aegon swallows. Therapy, AA, group. Theyâve all heard it. Everyone has. And each time itâs like opening a wound that never properly healed.Â
âMaybe another time,â he suggests, and she nods in agreement.
âShall I sing another Aegon original?â she teases, flipping through the pages. Her eyebrows scrunch together, âWhat is The Pink Dread?â
âYouâve ruined it- oh my gods-â
Aegon freezes, hands leaving the computer as he holds them above his head, eyes wide.
âShit, really? No, youâre joking shit!â Aegon says, panicking.
She laughs, swatting his shoulder as he sits frozen.
âIâm kidding, idiot, but youâve completely fucked the color correction,â she informs him, tilting the laptop towards herself and correcting his mistake.
âThis is complicated,â Aegon tells her and she hums in response.
âYouâre just thick.â
âRude!â
Aegon watches her as she snickers, fiddling with the computer until the image looks better. Aegon purses his lips. Perhaps she had a point, it looks a lot better now.Â
âWe should get out of the studio,â Aegon suggests.Â
Sheâs clicking through different photos on her laptop as he says this, munching on leftover french fries from the takeout Aegon had brought her. He knew she was working on editing some photos, and while he and Helaena didnât have plans to record, he stopped by anyway. It was becoming somewhat of a routine.Â
She turns her head, raising an eyebrow at him. âAnd go where?â
âSomewhere,â Aegon says, leaning back in his chair, âI want my picture taken.â
She smiles at him endearingly. Sheâs grown rather fond of their afternoons together. Aegon is easy to be around, there are no awkward or forced moments between them. Itâs natural. Carefree.Â
âOh do you now?â she says with a giggle.Â
When she laughs, Aegon canât help but smile. He leans forward, resting his chin in the palms of his hands.
âCan you do one like those weird baby pictures? Where their bodies are all swaddled up and their heads look massive.â
She laughs again and Aegon swears he feels his heart grow in size. His smile widens as she shakes her head, taking a sip of water.Â
âA portrait then?â she asks, closing her laptop, âJust you?âÂ
âIf youâll have me,â Aegon says, before an idea pops into his head, âActually, I have someone else who would love to be a model.â
âSunfyre down!â Aegon yells, just as his energetic golden tackles her to the ground, âShit- oh shit sorry heâs excited!â
But sheâs laughing hysterically as Sunfyre licks her cheeks, his tail wagging furiously as her arms wrap around him. Theyâd chosen a nearby park for the shoot; sheâd been confident that the changing colors of the autumn leaves would be the perfect backdrop.
âItâs okay!â she giggles, turning her head away from the dogâs tongue, âSuch a good by Sunfyre!â
âHeâs a brute,â Aegon argues as Sunfyre seats himself in her lap on the ground, âOh câmon youâre not a fucking lapdog-â Sunfyre barks at the comment, smiling up at his owner.
Sheâs laughing all the while, legs crushed by the happy golden. âReally, itâs alright Egg-â
Aegon squats next to them, patting Sunfyreâs head.Â
âMy sister calls me that,â he says, cheeks slightly flushed. Sheâs still giggling, laughter pouring from her lips like music.Â
âSorry, just slipped out-â
âNo no, shit! That wasnât--I wasnât,â he sighs, shaking his head, âI like it.â
Sunfyre is panting between them as they lock eyes. She smiles at Aegon, warmth creeping onto her cheeks. Aegonâs cheeks are pink from the cold autumn air, and the tip of his nose is as well.Â
âYeah?â
âYeah,â he says, grinning, âNow, letâs get some of those photos, yeah?â
It takes a while, Sunfyre is not the most patient model, but eventually, she gets some photos of the two of them.Â
âThere,â she says, showing him as they sit next to one another on a bench. Sunfyre lays on a bed of orange and red leaves, eyes closed, âYouâve got your holiday card for this year sorted. Make sure to send me one.â
âCourse,â Aegon says, his knee bouncing nervously, âThank you, for real. This wasâŠfun.â
She smiles at him, âYeah, I had fun too.â Â
Aegonâs stomach flips pleasantly as she smiles at him.Â
âIâve got this family thing coming up. I was just ... .I was wonderingâŠ..Would you maybe like to be my date?â he asks, scratching the back of his neck.
âAegon Targaryen,â she says, smirking slightly, âAre you asking me on a date?â
âI mean, you could come as my friend,â he hurries his answer, nervous heâs made a mistake, âThatâs alright too, I just like hanging out with you and your company would be great.â Heâs rambling he can tell, gods heâs so fucking nervous. âAnd my family is fucking nuts. Like not crazy how everyone says haha my family is crazy, like actually crazy.â Shit. Shit, heâs not selling it, her eyes are wide, oh gods sheâs regretting ever meeting-- âUm, I mean theyâre notâŠ.Iâm not..â
âEgg,â she says softly, placing her hand over his, stopping his knee from vigorously bouncing, âIâd love to be your date.â
âYeah?â he asks, sighing in relief, âYou mean it?â
She smiles, leaning forward and pressing her lips against his. Itâs soft, itâs sweet, and it sends Aegonâs heart racing. He brings a hand to cup her cheek, deepening the kiss.Â
When she pulls away, theyâre both smiling shyly at one another. The hand that rested on his remains, and she laced her fingers through his.
âSo,â she says, breaking the silence, âWhat kind of family gathering? Should I be prepared for blood rituals and sacrifices?â
Aegon barks out a laugh.
âHardly,â he says, squeezing her hand, âItâs nothing too exciting. My kid brotherâs engagement party.â
âThatâs wonderful,â she says, âA wedding, how exciting! You must be so happy for him.â
Aegon smiles, lost in thought, taking a moment before he answers. The past couple of years flash through his mind; faded memories.
âYeah,â he says smiling fondly, âI really am.â
note: oh me oh my.....an engagement party oneshot in the future perhaps? đ€ hope you enjoyed this trip down memory lane!
main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter
summary: The culmination of the haunting of Harrenhal. Secrets are revealed.
word count: 4.3k
warnings: ANGST, grief, possession, mentions and descriptions of death, suffocation, claustrophobia, car accident resulting in death, home invasion, ghosts, spooky things, fighting, blood, spiders
note: some things are revealed, and some are left for you to rattle around with and ponder! Happy Halloween my loves! đ đ»
banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange! thank you again for making this for me, I've appreciated it so much!
The drive home is filled with comfortable silence. The rain has changed from a torrential downpour to a light drizzle; steam rising off the blacktop curling toward the sky like smoke. The back of the car is full of shopping bags. It was hard to choose only one doll, and Aemond was insistent that Jaehaera should have one of her choosing; thus resulting in the purchase of one of each.Â
It was past suppertime by the time youâd returned to the grounds, the sky turning a pale purple as the sun sank over the horizon.Â
The house was quiet as you entered. Aemond hurried himself upstairs to check on Helaena and you made yourself busy in the kitchen. You found some leftovers and plated them before putting on the kettle.Â
You turn at the sound of footsteps. Aemondâs eye is wide, and he nods as you acknowledge him.Â
âEverything alright?â you ask, and he nods again more forcefully.
âYes, sheâs just with Maelor now in her room,â he tells you, âJaehaera is in the nursery. EverythingâsâŠalright.â He says it like he canât believe itâs true.
âSit,â you tell him, âYou should eat.â
Aemond does as heâs told, sitting in a chair and rubbing his face.Â
âIâm so relieved,â he admits, âI didnâtâŠI was a bit unsureâŠâ Aemond sighs then, leaning back in his chair, âWell she hasnât been keen to interact with him sinceâŠ.â
âSince Jaehaerys,â you finish his sentence for him.
âYes,â he agrees, âSince Jaehaerys.â
How much do you push? Youâre not even sure what this means now that you and Aemond have slept together. How much should you know? You place a plate in front of him, before sitting down at the table as well.
How much do you want to know?
âWhat happened to him?â you ask, nervous to broach the subject.
Youâd read a bit online about what had happened, but there were little details made public. About anything to be honest. The Targaryens were quite secretive.Â
âHelaenaâŠ.â Aemond begins, âIt was terrible. A home invasion. It happened right in front of herâŠâ Aemond sighs, âI just want her to be safe. Iâve never been more scared than on that night. I thought Iâd lost them all.â
Aemond rubs a hand over his face, closing his eyes.
âHe thought he was hiding,â Aemond says softly, âLike a game. Helaena told him to go hide and he did. ButâŠâ Aemond swallows before continuing, âNo one could find him. Long after the police had been there. Not until.â
Nausea rolls through you, discomfort sitting like a weight in your stomach.Â
âWhere was he?â
âHeâd gotten into the attic somehow, locked himself in a chest,â Aemond says, wiping a tear escaping his eye, âThe coroner said heâd most likely fallen asleep. That the lack of oxygen wasnâtâŠit wasnât a painful way to go.â
You canât help the small, pained gasp that leaves you and you rush to cover your mouth with your hand, tears welling in your eyes. Just picturing little Jaehaera, you canât even imagine something like that happening to her.Â
âAnd it was so soon after Alys,â he admits, âI wasnât..I wasnât myself. I donât think I could have survived it. If HelaenaâŠâ
âAlysâŠ.she was pregnant, wasnât she?â you ask, speaking very slowly.
Aemond gives you a curt nod, fingers tapping the table.
âShe was,â he admits, âWe werenâtâŠ.it wasnât planned. But we were happy.â
You listen to him talk, focusing on the movement of his mouth.Â
âCar accident,â he murmurs, answering your unspoken question.
You nod slightly as he raises his eyes to see your reaction. There is no need to press any further on the subject of Alys. You can tell he still cares for her, that the wound has not healed.Â
âWhen I brought the children hereâŠthe first timeâŠthe girl before you, Floris,â he begins, and you nod for him to continue, âThatâs when Alys first showed herself. I thought if she had Jaehaera to look after, sheâd be content.â
The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. Moments of confusion begin to click in your mind, the realization chilling.Â
âShe was, for a while,â Aemond tells you, deeply sighing, âI didnât realize sheâdâŠtake over Floris until she tried...well,â He pauses a moment, wetting his lips before glancing up at you, âIâm sure you can imagine what happened.â
âOh,â you answer, cheeks warming, âAnd did you..â
âNo!" he answers quickly, "Seven hells I was embarrassed,â Aemond says, his own cheeks turning pink, âI had no feelings for her, nor her any for me. The poor girl was humiliated when she realized what Alys had tried to make her do. Left the following morning with little more than a resignation note scribbled on a napkin.â
âWhat does she want?â you ask, referring to his dead wife.
âI just thinkâŠâ Aemond trails off, his eyes lost in thought, âI think sheâs lonely. I think most of the spirits trapped here are.â
âAnd yet you mean to sell.â
âWhat would you have me do?â Aemond asks, resting his hand over his mouth, his elbow against the table.
You hold his gaze, unsure of how to answer.Â
Lights shine into the kitchen, along with the sound of gravel crunching beneath tires. Someone pulled in the driveway.
âSomeoneâs here,â Aemond murmurs, standing.
He goes to the front door and you stay behind, cleaning up the plates.Â
Voices soon grow louder as you clear the table. Not quite yelling, but raising in volume. Youâre able to catch just pieces of the conversation; Aemond and someone else.
âSheâs owed it,â Daemonâs voice makes your blood run cold, âMore than you.â
âAlys was my wife,â Aemond argues, âThis is what she wanted. Iâm respecting her wishes.â
âItâs rather convenient that all those documents were lost,â Daemon continues, âHarwin wanted this place to go to Rhaenyra. To the boys.â
âThen he should have made the arrangements beforeâŠâ
âYes,â Daemon says slowly, âI suppose he should have. However, it is rather curious. He returns to Harrenhal House to get his will squared away and thenâŠâ Daemon trails off.
âWhat are you implying?â Aemond asks cooly.
âIâm only being curious,â Daemon insists, a playful edge to his voice, âThough Iâm sure youâll get a pretty penny for this old place. Ghosts and all.â
Aemond doesnât answer, and you hear Daemon bark out a sharp laugh.
âCome now, lÄkianna (nephew), have a sense of humor.â
âI want you gone,â Aemond quips.
âYes, well, we all want things, donât we?â Daemon asks, the smile evident in his tone.Â
You take another step and a floorboard creaks causing you to wince.Â
âAh. Thatâll be your little friend,â Daemon muses, missing nothing, âBut before I take my leave, Rhaenyra asked about Helaena.â
âSheâs fine,â Aemond snaps, âIâm taking care of her.â
You back up into the kitchen at the sound of footsteps. Daemon appears not a moment later, a half smile on his face. Heâs dressed in a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Aemond stands behind him in the doorway, watching closely.Â
âKettle on?â Daemon asks you, violet eyes narrowed. You give him a curt nod. âBe a dear, wonât you?â
You glance at Aemond, meeting his eyes. He looks exhausted but tilts his chin giving you the silent go-ahead. Turning from Daemon you grab a mug and prepare him a cup of tea. Daemon walks around the kitchen as you do so; you can feel his presence behind you. Aemond remains in the doorway his hands curled into anxious fists at his side. You try not to let your hands tremble as you offer the cup to Daemon, turning away from the counter.Â
He takes it, offering a small smile in return as he sips from the steaming cup.Â
âSheâd be better off with Rhaenyra,â Daemon says, not ready to end the previous conversation, âNot like your crowd could keep anyone safe-â
Aemond lurches forward, smashing Daemonâs cup from his hand and sending it to the floor. It shatters and pieces of the mug explode against the kitchen floor. Daemon merely smiles, as though the display was nothing more than a childâs tantrum.Â
âDo you deny it?â Daemon taunts, âBe angry all you want; I only speak the truth.â
âOut,â Aemond hisses.
Daemon smiles crookedly, fire in his violet eyes. They stare at each other, neither refusing to back down first. Theyâre quite similar, youâve noticed. Perhaps they once got along.
âThe deed to the house,â Daemon tells him, âThen Iâll go.â
âYouâll go now,â Aemond says, grabbing Daemon by the shirt, and dragging him towards the door.Â
âAemond!â you yell, as they push through the front door.Â
Daemon laughs as he pushes him, holding his hands out in feigned surrender. Youâre almost sure Daemon could stop him if he truly wanted to; the older man is built with more muscle, less lithe and lean than Aemond is. You follow close behind as they make it out the door and down the front steps.
âStop it!â
The two men continue fighting; they tumble down into the front yard, the rain-soaked grass causing them to lose their footing. The air is misty, the rain falling gently, steadily.Â
Itâs a blur of fists and silver hair, Daemonâs fist connects with the side of Aemondâs head and red explodes into the air like drops of rain. His ring has cut Aemondâs temple, blood trickling down the side of his face, a brilliant scarlet against porcelain flesh.Â
âStop it!â you yell, but the men ignore you continuing their fighting.
Aemond grapples with Daemon, spitting at him as he manages to wriggle out of his grip. You watch as Aemond gets the upper hand, his fist connecting with Daemonâs face. Thereâs blood on his hands, blood on his rain-soaked shirt and he keeps punching him again, again, again.
âAemond!â you yell, your voice raw.
His eyes snap up, looking at you standing in the rain watching him. Daemon laughs below him, a slow giggle that grows in volume.Â
Aemond rises off the ground, running a hand over his slicked hair and walking toward you.
âIâm sorry,â he murmurs, âIâm sorry---â You wrap your arms around him, holding his lean form against you, hand pressed to the back of his head.Â
âItâs alright,â you tell him, âItâs alright.â
You stand there holding him as Daemon sits up, spitting a wad of blood and saliva into the ground as he stands. Rain soaks through your clothes, Aemondâs head heavy against your shoulder.Â
âThis isnât over,â Daemon says begrudgingly, walking over to his car, âIf you wonât sign it over, sheâll put in an offer herself. And HelaenaâŠ.â Daemon clicks his tongue, âGive her my regards.â
Daemon runs a hand over his hair, opening the door to his car before starting the engine. The tires crunch against the gravel as he speeds off.
âYouâre freezing,â Aemond says. Youâd hardly noticed youâd started shivering, your teeth rattling against each other. Aemondâs body pressed against yours, the only warmth you feel. Aemond takes your hands in his, squeezing gently. âGo upstairs, make sure Helaena is still alright?â
You force a nod, unable to stop your shaking. Your eyes are locked on his face, at the drying blood on the right side. Raindrops gather around the congealing blood, pink tears rolling down his cheek and onto his neck.
âIâll get cleaned up,â he says softly, âLetâs go inside.â
You head up the stairs, hurrying to Helaenaâs room as Aemond returns to the kitchen. You give the door a gentle knock before opening without a response from within. Perhaps sheâs sleeping.
The room is dark, moonlight streaming in through the windows.Â
âHelaena!â you call, stepping forward but stopping yourself.
She stands on her balcony, her silver hair blowing softly behind her. The rain sprinkles into the room, pearly dew drops gathering on the hardwood floor like glass marbles. The gate of the railing is thrown wide open so that if she took a step forward she would plummet to the ground below. Your heart hammers in your chest, adrenaline warming you even though youâre soaked to the bone.Â
âShhh,â Helaena murmurs, pointing to the bassinet that balances on the railing. Maelor is sound asleep within it. A breeze rolls through and you shiver.
âHelaena,â you say more softly, struggling to keep your voice even.
âHeâs sleeping,â she says, staring at Maelor, âIsnât he lovely?â
You take a cautious step forward, your shoes squelching as you do so.Â
âItâs cold, Hel,â you say, struggling to keep your voice light and even, âWhy donât you come inside?â
She ignores you, still gazing at her sleeping son.Â
âHe looks so much like him,â she muses, brushing some soft hair, âHe sleeps better. Jaehaerys never slept this easy as a baby.â She smiles softly, the back of her fingers almost stroking his cheek, âSo soft. Perfect. A little angel, donât you think?â
You nod, unable to speak, your throat tight with fear. Helaena hums happily and Maelor softly coos in his sleep, his fists raised above his head.Â
âHe should stay like this,â Helaena murmurs, âJust safe, happy. He doesn't have a care in the world.â Her fingers dance along his face, not quite touching him, âThereâs so much pain ahead of him. So much hurt. Scraped knees, broken bones. Loss. Heartbreak.â She laughs quietly, still swaying in the wind. âI can fix that.â
Fear stabs through you like a knife between your ribs. âHel..â
âI can,â she says, eyes meeting yours, âRight now. Spare him any of that. Isnât that what a mother should do? Protect her baby from harm?â
You swallow.
âI donât want him to hurt,â she says, tears streaming down her face, âThatâs all.â
âI know,â you tell her, âAnd you can try, and you can love him and hold him, and teach him, butâŠyou canât control the world.â
âBut I can control this,â she insists, âRight now. I can choose.â
âHelaena,â you beg, âYou donât want this, not really. You want your baby to live. You want Maelor to have a life.â
Her lip wobbles, and tears spill down her cheeks soaking the fabric of her nightgown.
âBut ... .butâŠI donât wish this pain. Why?â she asks, looking at you suddenly, âWhy canât it stop?â
âThatâs the price we pay,â you tell her, âThatâs the deal you make with the world.â
âRotten luck,â she says, laughing bitterly, âThis family is cursed. We brought him into the world with a sword hanging above his head. Itâs only a matter of time beforeâŠâ Helaena winces, pressing her palm against her head, âMy headâŠ.â she says, voice breaking softly, âIt always hurts.â
âMaybe heâll break it,â you insist, âGenerational curses donât have to go on forever. The cycle can end.â
âI suppose,â Helaena muses, giving you a wry smile, âYou have lots of hope.â
âI donât--â
âItâs good,â she interrupts, âAemond does too. Youâre good for him. He has eyesâŠthough I donât think he can see.â She turns and steps inside.
You take a hesitant step forward reaching to take Maelor, steadying the bassinet as it wobbles. Helaena allows it, walking past you into the room as you scoop the sleeping babe into your arms.Â
âThis feels familiar,â Helaena says, glancing back at the balcony. A breeze rolls through, making you shiver, but Helaena stands unmoving. âLikeâŠitâs happened before.â
âWhat do you mean?â
âI want a book,â Helaena muses, ignoring your question, walking toward the door, âIâd like a different story.â She leaves her bedroom door open as she turns down the hall in the direction of the library.Â
You steady yourself, taking a deep breath before walking to the nursery. Jaehaera isnât in her bed when you arrive. A chill rolls through you. You place Maelor in his crib, closing the nursery door. A giggle is heard then, echoing through the hall.
âJaehaera?â you call, walking slowly down the hall.
The giggling continues, along with the sound of running feet. Suddenly, the hair on the back of your neck rises and you turn.
Alys is in front of you, her green eyes bright. Shock pours through you, fear running through your veins like ice water.
âIâm sorry,â she says quickly, âI didnâtâŠâ
You take an unconscious step back, adrenaline spiking at the perceived threat.Â
âI didnât mean to frighten you,â she says softly, âI just thought..â She trails off, âHeâs been meaning to leave for some time. I tried to make him stayâŠeven with Helaena..â Alys shakes her head, âI thought if we could have a baby. Our baby. I just wanted him to stay, thatâs all.â
Tears began to well in your eyes.Â
âHe canât go,â she tells you, âNot the way he wants to.â
âWhat do you mean?â you ask.
Alys grimaces.Â
âHe canât leave the way he wants,â she repeats, slowing her words.
What? âBut Alys,â you tell her, âI donât understand..please..â
âYou know,â she tells you, backing up into the darkness until her glowing green eyes are all you can seeâgreen flames in the darkness. âYouâre clever. Help him see.â
Help him see.
Help him see what? But Alys has gone, evaporating into darkness.  Â
He canât leave the way he wants to.
You walk down the hall, turning into the library. It appears to be empty and you crane your head around the darkened corners of the room, your mind spinning.Â
He canât leave the way he wants to.
âHelaena?â you call.
The way he wants to.
âJaehaera?â
Aemond calls your name and you turn as he enters the library, his pace brisk.
âCome on,â he says, grabbing your hand, âGrab the baby. And Jaehaera, weâre leaving.â
He pulls you forward, and you nearly lose your footing, his hand holding yours tightly.
âNow?â you ask, your tone concerned.Â
âWeâll stay somewhere in town,â he says, âItâll be fine for a little while, then Iâll call my mother and figure something out with the house.â His voice borders on hysterical, âWeâve got to get them out. Weâve gotta get out now. Before something happens.â
âBefore what happens?â you question. He canât leave the way he wants. âAemond wait, stop--âÂ
âWhat?â he says pausing, âIâll get Helaena and weâll go. Itâs you and me.â He places his hands on your cheeks. âWeâll all be alright.â
His eyes are wide and heâs breathing heavily. You place your hands on top of his.
âSomethingâs wrong,â you tell him, âSomethingâs not right, we canât.â
âWhy?â Aemond says, âWe can, I promise you we can let⊠let's just go-â
âAemond-â
âDidnât I tell you?â
Your eyes snap towards the door at the sound of her voice. Helaena stands in the doorway, her hair and nightgown dry. Her eyes are softer, a small smile on her face.Â
âHeâs so hopeful,â she says softly, as Aemond watches her, âEven now.â
A chill rolls down your spine as she walks into the room. Even the way she walks is whimsical like sheâs floating rather than walking.Â
âHel-â you begin, but your throat grows tight with emotion.
âDonât,â she says softly, âItâs alright. I wasnât sure before butâŠhe knows. I think heâs known for some time.â
He knows Iâm dead, she means.Â
âHe just doesnât want to believe it.â
This feels familiar, sheâd said when standing on her balcony.
It all makes sense.Â
Dead from the beginning.
âI used to have so many dreams about this place,â she muses, looking up toward the ceiling, âSo much suffering within these walls. Death lives within the foundation of this house. It is no wonder things are this way. When I came hereâŠ.â she trails off, wetting her lips, âEverything was loud. So loud in my head. Louder than it had ever been before.â
âYou died,â you tell her, piecing the story together, âWhen youâŠwhen you first came to Harrenhal.â Helaena smiles at you softly, her eyes sad.Â
âIt was too loud,â she says softly, âI was grieving. It all was too much.â
âAemond said it wasnât youâŠ..the screaming that night in the hallâŠbut it was, wasnât it?â
She doesnât answer, her eyes just continue to flicker between you and her younger brother.
âHelaena,â Aemond says, speaking softly, âIâm so sorry. I shouldâveâŠI shouldâve-â
âShhhh valonqar,â she says, stepping forward, stroking his cheek, âThere was nothing you could have done.â
âI didnât want this,â Aemond insists, âI just wanted...I just wanted you to be safe.â
âI am,â Helaena insists, âIâm safe. Itâs so quiet now.â She looks up at the night sky, smiling to herself. âMy head isnât as loud.âÂ
âHow can that be?â Aemond asks.
âAlys meant well,â Helaena tells him, pursing her lips, âShe only meant to keep you here.â
âAlys,â you realize aloud, âIt was her?â
âSometimes ... .she'd get in my headâŠmeddle about,â Helaena says softly, âSometimesâŠ.itâs easy to forget. Time isnât really the same now. I would walk for hours, waking up so confused.â Her voice trails off before she turns to you. âYouâll look after them. All of them.â
You nod. Of course, you will.Â
âHelaenaâŠ.â you say softly, âBut howâŠâ
âIâd always been sensitive, even in life,â she says softly, âKepa called me his dreamer. It followed me in death as well I suppose.â She meets your eyes. âI donât know who used me to speak with you. Someone here. Another spirit is not ready to show itself. Or perhaps they just donât want to.â She sighs
You nod, unable to speak.
âI donât want to leave you here,â Aemond says, âI donâtâŠI canât do this without you.â
âItâs alright,â Helaena says, touching his cheek, âIâm here.â She presses a hand to his chest, and he places his on top of hers. âIâm with you. Do you remember what mother always said to us?â
âThe invisible string,â Aemond whispers.
âIt follows the people we love, connects us,â Helaena says softly, âWhenever you think of me, you pull on that, and no matter where I am, Iâll know. I am not gone. Itâs just different now. But Iâll always be with you.â She smiles, âAvy jorrÄelan.â
Aemond smiles through his tears, a soft laugh breaking through. He kisses the back of his sisterâs hand.Â
âAvy jorrÄelan,â he says softly, âSo much, Helaena, so much.â
Helaena smiles softly at the sound of her daughterâs voice. Jaehaera enters the library, eyes widening at the sight. Helaena walks over to her, kneeling.
âItâs time for me to go,â she says softly.
âI donât want you to,â Jaehara says, her voice small, âAlys saidâŠshe said we could all stay.â
âNo,â Helaena says, voice soft but firm, âNo, you, my sweet girl, must go.â She brushes some hair from Jaehaeraâs face, tears welling in her eyes, âThere is so much world for you to see. So much life for you to live.â
âBut what about you?â Jaehaera asks, tears falling down her cheeks, âWhat about you muña?â
Helaena smiles through her tears, her voice breaking, âMy journey ends here.â
âNo!â Jaehaera insists, stomping her foot.
Helaena presses a hand to her heart, bringing the other to Jaehaeraâs. A soft gasp escapes your lips as you inhale a ragged breath and Aemond takes your hand in his. You hadnât realized you were crying as well until he wiped a tear from your cheek.
âI am always with you,â she says softly, âDo you hear me? Always.â
Jaehaera places her hand on top of Helaenaâs nodding despite her tears. Helaena pulls her close, embracing her tightly, kissing the top of her head, and smoothing her hair. She whispers something you do not catch.Â
Jaehaera kisses her motherâs cheek before hurrying over to you. She hugs your legs, holding on tightly.Â
âLet Rhaenyra have the house,â Helaena tells Aemond, âTell Daemon. If it is Harrenhal they truly want, give it to them. This family has seen enough fighting for a lifetime.â
Aemond lowers his head.Â
Helaena turns suddenly, eyes bright.
âI hear him again,â she says smiling, âHe likes to hide, but I always find him.â She turns back to you all one final time, âWeâll be okay Aemond. Alys and I, weâll look after one another. Be happy.â
Aemond stifles a sob and Helaena is gone. Jaehaera clings to you, pressing further against you and the three of you sink to the floor, holding onto one another.Â
A Few Weeks Later
Summerhall house is bright; the walls of the first floor are made entirely of windows that overlook the mountains and the Dornish Marches. The air is turning colder with the promise of autumn, but that hasnât stopped Jaehaera from playing outdoors.
A soft meow makes you glance down as Morghul rubs against your calf. The black kitten meows once more before softly padding down the steps and into the grass. She appeared to Jaehaera soon after relocating to Summerhal, never straying far from her side.
A swing hangs from a large oak tree and she loves to play on it. Though now she rests below the trunk of the tree. Youâll check on her in a moment, once Maelorâs eyes flutter shut and you pass him into Aemondâs arms.Â
You rise from your seat on the porch and walk down the steps. The grass is warm and soft under your bare feet. The afternoon sunlight bathes the yard in warm golden light.
âEverything alright?â you ask Jaehaera who simply smiles, showing you what sheâd found.
âA spider,â she says, âIâm not afraid of them anymore.â
âNo?â
âMuña wouldnât want me to be afraid.â
You smile, watching as she releases the creature against the trunk of the tree, watching as it scurries away.Â
âNo,â you agree, placing a kiss on top of Jaehaeraâs head, âI suppose she wouldnât.â
Jaehaera returns to her swing and asks you to push her. You agree, letting her laughter wash over you. You understand Helaena more and more each day. You only want them to be happy, only want them to be safe and loved.
The world may be full of unknowns, but you and Aemond are not. Here, with you they are safe, they are loved.
This may be enough.
note: As always when I finish a series thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! For reading my work, for your lovely reblogs, and for your thoughtful comments, I cannot thank you enough for your love and support! This has been an absolute blast to write and share with you! Until next time besties, I love you all so much, and Happy Halloween! đ
main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter
summary ~ Staying away from Aemond is harder than you anticipated, especially with a meddling witchy dead ex-wife.
word count: 3.8k
warnings: NSFW/MDNI ~ kissing, grinding, fingering, p in v, spicy dreams, nipple play, spooky stuff, blood, ghosts, screaming
note: why is it always raining in my fics? because I said so that's why
banner made by the fantastic @ewanmitchellcrumbs, ilysm ange!
The sunlight pours into your room, warming the soft silk sheets you sleep in. They wrap around your naked flesh soft as butter and you hum contentedly, turning on your side. Itâs so cozy, and you nuzzle your face against the pillows breathing in the scent of the fresh linen.Â
You have to be dreaming.
Youâre sleeping naked. What? Youâve never done that here; it's too unpredictable with Helaenaâs condition, and the children. The sheets are never this soft, never this warm. Thereâs never someoneâs hand trailing a path down your naked shoulder, in between your shoulder blades down to cup the swell of your ass.
Your eyes flutter but do not open. That hand trails back up your spine sending delicious shivers down your body. A deep groan echoes behind you.
Youâre dreaming.
Aemond hums against you, pressing his lips to the skin of your throat, nibbling right below your ear. His hand snakes around under the covers, caressing your lower stomach drawing patterns along the smooth skin. Youâre aching for him, drenched for him, arching your back to press against the hardness that pokes your rear.Â
Another set of hands is on you. Smaller, just as warm, palms smooth as they caress your skin.
It doesnât make any sense.
Then your eyes open as a manicured hand cups your cheeks, dragging your head forward. The woman in front of you is naked, with dark hair around her face, and long lashes framing bright green eyes. She smiles and you recognize her from the pictures online. Alys pulls you in for a sensual kiss, her tongue caressing your lower lip as you sigh into her mouth.Â
You can feel Aemond behind you, as his hand wraps around your hip, dipping between your legs and brushing against your clit. Your legs spasm as he caresses you, Alys bringing a hand down to join him, breaching you with two slender fingers as he continues to massage your clit. Your head falls back against his shoulder as Alys kisses down your neck, latching her lips around your taut nipple sucking hard.
âSheâs all ready for you,â Alys murmurs against you, âTake her, take her now.â
Aemondâs teeth find purchase against the junction of your neck and shoulder and you cry out, grinding your hips desperately against Alysâs hand.
âYou want this?â Aemond gasps, fisting his length, pumping it harshly, âY/N tell me.â
Alys slows her fingers, removing them from your aching center leaving you feeling disparagingly empty. You whimper as Aemond kisses your neck, turning your cheek towards him.Â
âShe does,â Alys insists, pinching your breasts, nibbling up to your neck, âSay it.â
âYes,â you breathe, and Alys reaches down, lifting your leg and hitching it against her waist, spreading you wide for Aemond.
You can feel him drag the fat head of his cock along your folds, feel Alys press her breasts against yours, nipples rubbing together as you thrash between them. Alys hand snakes between your legs replacing Aemondâs, circling your clit with the pads of her fingers; nimble hands winding the coil of pleasure in your belly tighter and tighter.Â
âPlease, please--â you beg, one hand wrapped around Aemondâs neck, the other holding Alys close. Your voice is raw and desperate. Youâre aching for him, clenching around nothing; heâs so close to slipping inside you, you can feel the fat head of his cock poking your entrance. Crying out in anticipation your nails claw against his neck; you need him so desperately.Â
âYes, yes, there!â Alys says, green eyes bright as fire, âAemondâŠnow.â
âWitch.â
Someone else has spoken. Someone whose voice you cannot place. You awake with a start, gasping for air covered in a cold sweat.Â
Your room is dark. The sheets are cold.Â
The house creaks and groans.Â
Shaking your head you try to rid yourself of the dream youâve had, though the wetness between your thighs makes it rather difficult. You have to get out of the room, if you stay youâll keep thinking about it.
Gods that dream.
Was that another one of Alysâs tricks? Or was this your own mind, longing for him? You donât stay in bed any longer to find out, even with the ache that resides between your thighs.Â
Stumbling out of bed you throw open the door and enter the dimly lit hallway. Itâs barely sunrise, and the morning light is still just starting to creep over the horizon. What surprises you is Aemond standing at the other end of the hall, looking as though heâd just woken from sleep as well. A sharp pang of desire washes through you as you lock eyes with him.Â
Oh gods.
Hunger lingers in his gaze, in the way he wets his lips; a vein on his neck jumps. Your thighs clench together and his eyes fall to your legs as though he can sense it.Â
Heâs dreamt about it too.
Not one more second goes by before heâs walking toward you, slamming his lips against yours. Aemondâs hands stay locked on you; one large hand gripping your hip, thumb smoothing the exposed skin while his other hand holds the back of your neck. He pushes you against the wall, caging you against it with his hips, pressing into you. You moan into his mouth at the feeling of the hardness between his legs.Â
Gods, heâs so hard.
A pathetic whimper escapes your lips as he continues to kiss you, greedily accepting the little noises you award him. His hands climb higher, prying your arms from around him and pressing them into the wall above your head.Â
Lips, teeth, tongues. Itâs just him. Just Aemond all around you, burning brightly as your skin prickles with desire. Aemondâs lips move to your neck, sucking and kissing leaving bruises no doubt.Â
Your eyes flutter open, catching a shadow at the end of the hall.
âAemond,â you whisper, mustering all the strength you have.
âYes,â he groans, nose dragging up the side of your neck. Your eyes roll back as his teeth sink into the flesh of your earlobe.Â
âWe canât,â you tell him, âWeâre not supposed to-â
His lips freeze as he pauses. His nose slides down the side of your neck and you can feel his warm breath against your shoulder as he struggles to compose himself.Â
âFuck,â he murmurs, against your neck. He releases your hands, âIâm sorry-â
âDonât be,â you assure him as he steps away, âIt was me too.â
âIâŠI had,â he trails off, but catches your eye once more, âYou too?â
âYeah,â you tell me, âMe too.â
You glance to your left. The shadow has disappeared. A relieved sigh leaves you, though the ache between your legs does not.Â
âBreakfast?â you suggest, and Aemond nods in agreement, following you down the hall. He holds onto your hand the entire time.
The rest of the day goes smoothly, as long as Aemond and you keep your distance. As soon as you get near each other, it's as though lightning is crackling between you. He brushed behind you in the kitchen as youâd cleaned the dishes and youâd let one drop, splashing suds onto your stomach.Â
Later, youâd assisted Jaehaera with her piano practice and heâd sat beside you both, long fingers brushing against yours, the veins on the back of his hands protruding as he plucked the chords of Clair de Lune. Heâd pushed the bench back with a start, quickly exiting the room.
Torture.Â
This was torture.Â
After putting Jaehaera to bed that night, you contemplated locking yourself in your room for the remainder of the night. Surely the safest option. Aemond was like a walking aphrodisiac, you craved him whenever he was in the room.
Walking down the hall, you turned the corner, heading toward your room when the lights on the walls flickered. You stopped short, breath catching in your throat. The lights flickered once more. Goosebumps rise on your forearms.
âAlys,â you spoke aloud, to the empty hall before you, âIâm going to bed.â
You tried to sound firm, but the shaking of your voice couldnât be helped. The lights flicker once more. Harrenhal is an old house, and this hall is windowless. If they go out, youâll be left in complete darkness. Itâs only dark. But a voice in the back of your head said something different.Â
The lights flicker and your throat tightens, mouth going dry. You can make it to your room. Youâve been here a while, you know the way.
They flicker again, taking longer to turn on. Youâre left in darkness for a few breaths.Â
You know the way.
Then there is nothing but darkness.Â
The sound of your breathing is all you can hear before you take a step forward causing the floorboards to creak. You hold your hands out slightly in front of you, nearly blind as your eyes struggle to adjust. Itâs only dark. Jaehaera is afraid of the dark. You were afraid of the dark as a child, you hated it so much.Â
A sound behind you causes you to lurch toward the wall, hands finding purchase against it. That was a floorboard. Someone is there. Someone is standing behind you. Â
âAemond?â you whisper, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end.
There is no answer. You can feel someone's presence. Someoneâs eyes watching you.Â
âHelâŠHelaena?â you whisper into the darkness. Your hand shakes and you press it harder against the wall.Â
The palms of your hands are sweating, nearly sliding down the wall.Â
âHello?â you whisper, more of a desperate whimper.
Your hands slip, the walls slick with your sweat. Wait. You pull your right hand from the wall turning it, curling your fingers inward. Your hand is wet. Not sweat. Something drips down the wall, covering the back of your left hand. Something else.Â
The strong scent of copper floods your nose and fills your mouth. You pull your hand away, a small noise of terrified discomfort leaving your lips. Your hands shake as the lights flicker back on, illuminating the hall.Â
Eyes wide you glance at your red-stained hands. You glance at the walls and watch as thick ruby rivers flood down the wallpaper pooling onto the wood floor. Blood. The walls are bleeding. It's pooling all around you as you shake, coating the bottom of your shoes and as you back up you slip, slamming against the floor.Â
Hot. Sticky. Metallic. Blood.
The screams of Harrenhal are yours that night. Itâs guttural and panicked; a raw sound that makes your stomach clench with the force of it and your eyes squeeze shut. As soon as all the air has exited your lungs, and you gasp for breath preparing to scream once more, you open your eyes.Â
Youâre on the floor.Â
The lights are on.Â
No blood.
Just your hair matted to your neck and face with nervous sweat, and your trembling limbs and an ache in your tailbone from your fall. Wildly you glance around, examining the faded teal wallpaper. You swallow, swearing you still taste it. Still smell it. But it's gone.Â
Your breathing is shallow but you force yourself to stand on shaky legs. Hurrying down the hall you round the corner and nearly run into someone. Your heart stops beating, and you clutch your chest, fighting another scream.
âSeven hells!â you squeak. Sheâs in her nightgown, her feet bare, silvery hair flowing freely around her face, âHelaena! You scared me--â
âWhat are you doing here?â she asks, her voice flat. Struggling to regulate your breathing, you frown at her. Helaenaâs violet eyes are different, thereâs something else present there. Her lips are firmly pressed together, her chin held high.Â
âWhat?â
âWhat are you doing here?â she repeats, âDo you have no semblance for your own safety?â
Your blood runs cold.
âWho are you?â
âThat witch will try again,â Helaena continues, âAnd sheâs likely to get what she wants. Sheâs as persistent in life as in death.â
âWhat do you mean? Was that Alys?â you ask, confusion making your head throb.Â
There was so much blood.
âThe girl before you at least had a head on her shoulders. She left rather quickly once she found out about this place,â Helaena--or not really Helaena--says, âOff to a place with kinder ghosts I suppose.â
âWhat does that mean? Why wonât you tell me anything?â you ask.Â
âThis one,â she says, tapping her head, âSmarter than the lot of you. Sadder. Itâs a pityâŠâ she trails off, looking into the distance and humming to herself.
She blinks, eyes still cold as she grabs your hand in hers, âLeave this house.â Her hand is cold. Aemond always runs so hot. The children as well. Itâs unusual. Like all Targareyns should run warm.Â
A floorboard creaks, alerting you of another presence. Supernatural or not, that is the real question. You turn still holding Helaenaâs hand on your own.Â
You turn around, just as Helaena releases your arm. Jaehaera stands in her nightgown. Her eyes are wide as she looks up at her mother. Helaena brushes by you, dropping your hand and kneeling in front of Jaehaera.
âSheâll be back soon,â Helaena answers, brushing some hair from Jaehaeraâs face, âCome now, you do not have time for tears.â
Jaehaera sniffles, and takes a deep breath.Â
âYouâre a very brave girl,â Helaena continues.
âI donât want to be brave anymore,â Jaehaera admits, âI wish there wasnât anything to be brave about.â
Helaena nods, humming in agreement.Â
âIâm afraid youâre going to have to be brave a little while longer. Do you think you can do that?â she asks.Â
A tear rolls down Jaehaeraâs cheek, but she nods all the same. Helaena pats her head before standing and turning back to face you.Â
Who are you? You donât ask your question out loud.Â
She says nothing, only stares before her body goes rigid, eyes rolling back in her head. Thankfully, you leap forward just as she goes limp and catches her crumpling form, the pair of you falling to the floor.Â
âJaehaera, go get Aemond,â you tell her, holding Helaena tight, âGo!â
Jaehaera turns on her heel, walking quickly down the hall and out of sight.
After the events in the hall, Aemond had helped Helaena back into bed. Sheâd woken slightly, trapped somewhere between dreams and reality, clutching his hand.Â
âAemond--â
âShh, donât speak,â heâd told her, as you stood in the doorway.
âI donâtâŠI canâtâŠâ
âItâs alright,â Aemond insists.
âSomething is wrong,â she whimpered, âI donâtâŠI keep seeing-â
âEverything is alright,â he insists, stroking her head.
âItâs so loud,â she softly cries, tears dripping down her cheeks, âIn my head..my head.â
âI donât want..you have to listen,â she murmurs, sleep overtaking her, âI need ... .you can't ... .understand?â
âI understand,â he assures her, though his expression is pained and confused, âDonât worry, I understand.â
âThe eye. The dragon,â she mumbles, eyes fully closed, âDonâtâŠdonât go.â
You can hear Jaehaeraâs feet padding down the hall and take that as your cue to leave. Shutting the door, you intercept her before she reaches her motherâs door.
âYou should be in bed,â you tell her, forcing a smile on your face.
âI canât,â she cries, âNot without my doll.â
âTomorrow,â you assure her, âIâll go into town and get you one.â
Jaehara cries in your arms until eventually drifting to sleep. You stay in the nursery with her, wide awake until the sun begins to peak over the horizon.Â
Aemond offers to drive you to town. It makes sense since youâre without a car. It also appears he doesnât want to be alone. No matter the risk, he clings to your side throughout the day escorting you and the children to each of your daily activities.Â
You go in the late afternoon when Jaehaera has just begun her afternoon lessons and Maelor is taking his afternoon nap. Youâd argued it didnât make sense for him to join you at first, that no one would be watching Maelor.Â
âIâll watch him,â Helaena has offered. Youâd looked at her questioningly, remembering the previous night. Goosebumps prickled on your skin. âIâd like to.â
âYou would?â Aemond asked, his eyes wide with wonder, âAreâŠare you sure?â
She looks better, as though sheâd slept an awful long time. Her violet eyes were hers once more, but you couldnât help but wonder who had been in her place the previous night.Â
Leave this house.
âYes,â Helaena said nodding, âIâm sure.â
That witch will try again.
And so, Aemond and you headed into town. The weather was still terrible as you entered, fat drops of rain hitting the car so hard it sounded like hail. The wipers are struggling to keep up, and the headlights of his car barely slice through the thick fog that rolls off of the pavement.
âAemondâŠâ you ask cautiously, watching his knuckles turn white against the wheel. He is clearly still upset from the events of the previous night, heâd barely spoken as youâd begun to drive. âAemond pull over.â
He listens after a moment of gritting his teeth. He pulls over to the side of the road, turns the car off, and rests his face against his hands. The rain sounds thunderous as it slams against the car.Â
âAemond?â you ask again, bringing your hand to his face, and turning his chin toward you.Â
Thatâs when you notice the stream of tears running down his face.
âOh, Aemond..â
âIâm sorry,â he says gruffly, pulling his face away from your hand. He rubs at his eyes, at his cheeks.
âYouâve nothing to be sorry for,â you assure him.
âI didnâtâŠ.fuck,â he says gruffly, âI just..Helaena hasnât wanted to be alone with the children inâŠsinceâŠâ he trails off, his voice choked with tears, âI have so much hope for her. That sheâs getting better, that she..that she can move on.â
You listen intently, chest tightening at his words.
âI just want her to be safe,â he says with a sigh, âThatâs all. Just happy and safe.â
Your heart breaks for him. All he wants in the world is for his sister to be okay. For her children to be alright.Â
âYouâre human, Aemond. And youâre trying your best. Thatâs all you can do.â
âI worry sheâll never be happy again. I justâŠI wish my best were enough,â he admits, his voice cracking with the final word.
You reach for his opposite hand, squeezing it. Heâs warm, his palm rough against your own.Â
âItâs more than enough,â you insist, âAemond, it is.â
He turns his cheek against your hand, kissing your palm. The action is so affectionate it steals your breath.
âThank you,â he says, eyes watching you closely, âIâŠIâve been thinking. AboutâŠâ He trails off. What was he going to say?
The dream. The kiss. You. Just you, always you.
He says your name, it leaves his lips like a prayer. Like heâs found salvation in the syllables of your name. His eyes map your face, memorizing every inch.
âAemondâŠâ you begin, not even sure what you want, what youâre asking.
âYes,â he breathes, inching closer until you feel his breath on your face, his hand caressing your cheek mirroring the actions of your own on his face, âGevie..â
âWhat does it mean?â you ask, âJaehaera never told me.â
âBeautiful,â he tells you, âSo beautiful.â
Then heâs kissing you, his mouth warm and soft, his lips molding perfectly against your own.
Youâre unclipping your seatbelt. Heâs pushing back his seat, removing his own as you climb into his lap. Your knees stick to the leather seats you press yourself against him, grinding against his lap. Youâre far from the house, nearly in town. Itâs just you and him.Â
Aemond. Just Aemond.Â
You struggle out of your pants, his hand cupping your hot center, long fingers dipping through your soaked folds and spreading you open. Your hands fiddle with his belt, heart hammering against your chest as he presses kisses to your cheek, your jaw, your chin, your clavicle. Every piece of exposed flesh his hot mouth can press against. You rip the top of his shirt open, exposing his chest.Â
Gods yes.Â
Your hand wraps around him, easing his achingly hard member out of his pants. Aemond sits back, jaw slacking as his hands grip your hips while you sink down on top of him. Your mouth falls open at the sensation of him stretching you out, and your hips settle against his.
âGods,â you whimper, walls pulsating around him, trying desperately to adjust to his thick girth.Â
Aemondâs face and chest are flushed, his lips parted as your nails dig against the nape of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair. His hips buck up against yours as you lift your own, a desperate attempt to keep himself fully sheathed in your warmth.
âPlease,â he whispers, hands holding your face, lips brushing against yours, âOh..fuck you feel good.â
âItâs okay,â you murmur, kissing him softly, rolling your hips against him, keeping him buried to the hilt inside of you.
A breathy groan escapes him and you keep moving, slowly rocking against him letting the head of his cock rub against the spongy part of your walls that has you clenching around him. The sounds in the car are wet, borderline obscene as you ride him.Â
Fire pools in your belly, building slowly and purposefully with every roll of your hips. His breathing is shallow and ragged, matching your own as you kiss one another desperately. The windows are fogged, the air hot and heavy between you; you can feel sweat beading on your neck, sticky forehead pressed against his as he gazes at you through half-lidded eyes. His violet eye wide with wonder, with tenderness as you whine at a particularly pleasurable nudge against your g-spot.Â
Legs shuddering, Aemond presses a kiss against your jaw, below your ear, down your neck. Heâs everywhere, heâs all-consuming, and when his hand snakes between your conjoined bodies to toy with your clit you tremble against him; clinging onto him for dear life you fall apart with a strangled cry, pussy constricting against him.Â
Aemondâs hands hold your hips, moving you with purpose as he chases his own release. Your legs ache with exertion but you force yourself to move as the remnants of your orgasm tingle throughout your limbs. With a choked whimper, Aemondâs cock twitches against your velvety walls, the warmth of his cum flooding you.
You sit in comfortable silence, the sound of the rain beginning to ebb. He keeps kissing you, and you push some hair from his forehead, placing a kiss there as you do. His arms hold you tight keeping you molded against him.
Just you and Aemond.Â
Aemond and you.
note: hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them).
ONE PART LEFT coming Halloween! đ
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summary ~ Aemond tells you everything.
word count: 4.0k
warnings: NSFW/MDNI ~ dubcon (possession), kissing, grinding, spooky stuff, thunderstorms, mentions of death, themes of loss
note: I'd say we're halfway through our spooky adventure! smh I can't believe it! I hope you enjoy loves!
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âI want to know everything.â
The kettle whistles noisily before you remove it from the burner. Aemond sits in his usual spot clad in checkered pajama pants and a gray cotton t-shirt. You wonder how he isnât cold, your bare arms are covered in goosebumps and you wish youâd grabbed a sweatshirt before leading him down to the kitchen.Â
Thereâs a constant unearthly chill in this house. You set the tea in front of him, his fingers brushing against yours as you sit beside him.Â
âHarrenhal,â he says softly, as a floorboard creaks overhead. You both glance up at the ceiling, watching as the chandelier trembles, the crystals reflecting the dim kitchen light.Â
Youâve seen it happen before when people walk upstairs; when little Jaehaera runs down the hall, when workers are moving down the hallways. The hour is late now, the workers have gone home, and little Jaehaera is tucked safely in her bed.Â
The floorboards above creak, regardless of the truth.Â
âWeâre not the only ones here,â you slowly begin, eyes falling back to Aemondâs face, âWeâre not the only ones in Harrenhal. Are we?â
Aemond is silent for a moment.
âNo,â he says softly, âWe arenât.â
Tea turns to coffee as the sky lightens.Â
And Aemond tells you everything.Â
âGhosts,â you breathe, âButâŠthatâs not possible.â
âIt is,â Aemond insists, âThere is something here. Some energyâŠ.the locals are right when they call this place cursed. Tragedy befalls anyone who holds it.â
Your skill prickles with goosebumps. Aemond holds it. What tragedy will befall him? You think of Alys, of the sudden death of his wife.Â
Perhaps his tragedy has already unfolded.Â
âIt was Harren, last night,â Aemond tells you, âAnd his sons, I presume. The original manor was burnt to the bare bones after they created it. With him and his sons inside of it. A terrible fire.â
A chill runs through you at the memory.
âIâve encountered them before. Theyâre rather harmless,â Aemond continues, âSimply walking the halls throughout the night. Others are not as pleasant, butâŠharmless. For the most part.â He pauses, glancing up at you.
The hair on the back of your neck stands at attention.
âWhat others?â you ask, though youâre unsure if you want the answer.Â
âThe ones Iâve encountered throughout my time here,â Aemond sighs, rubbing his eyes. The ring on his hand catches your eye; stamped with the Targaryen crest.
Youâd see another just like it. Daemonâs face flashes across your mind.
âYour uncle was here,â you tell him, watching as his spine straightens, his shoulders tense, âHe knows about them too I presume? He said some things---Iâm sorryâŠ.it was when you were away, I nearly forgot-â
âWhat did he want?â Aemond interrupts, staring at you with a renewed fire in his eye.
âHe just wanted to speak with you,â you tell him.
âDid he bother you? Was he inappropriate?â
âHe was a bit flirtatious, thatâs all,â you assure him, cheeks warming at the memory.Â
Aemond bristles at that, his hand clenching into a fist. Your stomach flips with embarrassment, the burning sensation on your cheeks spreading down your neck.
âI apologize for that,â he says cooly, âHeâs a vile creature.â
You place your hand on top of his fist, âItâs alright.â
Aemondâs gaze softens, and he places his opposite hand on top of yours. You lose yourself in the sensation of his hand on yours for a moment, a pleasant swooping sensation in your lower stomach. You hold his gaze, desire burning hot in your belly. Itâs you who looks away first, feeling embarrassed about the intense longing you feel for your employer. You shouldnât be thinking like this.
âWho was screaming?â you ask, bringing the conversation back to the ghosts.
You can almost hear it still, the sound of screaming echoing in your mind. Youâre not sure if youâll ever be able to forget, even when Harrenhal is simply a memory. Aemond only stares.
âI donât know,â he says finally, âIâm notâŠsure.â
You donât know which answer youâd hoped for but find that the one Aemond gives brings you no comfort.Â
Jaehaera hates thunderstorms.Â
This is mostly due to the fact that the nursery has a balcony with French doors overlooking the Godâs Eye and backyard. When it is sunny, warm rays light the room making it appear bathed in gold. But when it rains, water is hurled violently against the glass echoing throughout the room.
The nursery also has a closet on the opposite side of the room; the doors are made of mirrors. The room was once used as a dance studio, you could tell the moment youâd stepped inside. The wood floors are scuffed from years of use. You canât help but wonder who danced there. Â
This is exactly why Jaehaera insisted on a sleepover in the main living room that night. She suggested it during dinner when thunderclouds were just starting to roll in and turn the sky an eerie gray color.Â
âI like it,â Helaena spoke, surprising you, âLetâs have a proper campout.â
So you found yourselves dragging blankets and pillows down the stairs into the living room, assembling a blanket fort with Aemondâs help, and sitting inside of it. The small space was rather cramped with the three of you inside; baby Maelor was already sound asleep in his bassinet.
Helaena was quiet the majority of the time, besides when she was quietly humming to herself. She seemed happy though from what you could tell. As happy as Helaena could be. She always had an air of melancholia around her.Â
âI have a story,â Helaena says.Â
It is the first time sheâs spoken that evening. Jaehaera stands behind Aemond braiding his hair as she often does. She glances at her mother, giving her a toothy grin.Â
âA long time ago,â Helaena begins, her eyes looking somewhere far off, âThere was a girl dressed in green locked away in a castle.â
âI like castles,â Jaehaera comments, continuing to braid Aemondâs hair.
âShe was young and beautiful, and very, very sad,â Helaena continued, âShe wed the king, and became a queen. It was everything a girl should want. But she didnât want it at all.â
You watch Helaena as she taps her nails against the cup of tea she holds. Theyâre painted silver; Jaehaeraâs doing. The paint is chipped around her thumbs already. A nervous habit youâd noticed.Â
âWhy not?â Jaehaera asks, her nose scrunched as she pouts, âIâd like to be a queen.â
âShe was in love with the princess, you see, and never wanted the old king. But he took her anyway because that is what men in power do. They take pretty little girls and keep them locked away.â
âDid she have children?â Jaehaera asks.
âShe did. Many. She loved them all dearly. Beautiful children they were, and they were all taken from her. She outlived them all,â Helaena continues, âMad with grief, the queen locked herself away this time.â
Helaena sips from her cup, a smile twitching on her lips.
âI never understood Daisy before having a child,â she muses, switching away from her story, âBefore having a girl. I hope sheâll be a fool.â
A shiver rolls down your spine as Helaena locks eyes with you.
âI like a lot of books,â Aemond says, the top of his cheeks turning pink as he reaches behind him and lifts a giggling Jaehaera into the air as he stands, âItâs late, zaldrÄ«zÄ«tsos. Time for bed.â
âIâm not tired,â Jaehaera insists, though she echoes her motherâs yawn. Â
You all exit the fort, Helaena retiring to the couch. She lays on her back, stretching like a cat.Â
âMhmm,â Aemond says, depositing her into Helaenaâs arms on the couch.
He tucks them both in, turning the remainder of the lights off before joining you on the makeshift mattresses on the floor. You can only see the outline of him in the darkness; the curve of his nose, the twinkling of his eye.Â
âIs Helaena alright?â you whisper, and he presses a finger to your lips.
âYes,â he breathes, thumb tracing your lower lip, âThank you, for doing this.â
âOf course,â you whisper, barely breathing as his finger traces down your chin, âAre you tired?â
âNo,â he says softly, his hand sliding down the curve of your neck, âIâm a bit of an insomniac.â
Your breathing becomes labored as his thumb strokes your collarbone. You wish youâd worn something else, not the ratty old band t-shirt youâd chosen paired with some sleep shorts.
âOh,â you say, unsure of how else to answer him.Â
Your thoughts scramble when he touches you, as though his touch short circuits the wiring in your brain. He says your name then, so softly you almost miss it. Heâs close enough to kiss, all you need to do is lean forward and his nose will bump against your own.
His hand falls from you. Eyes adjusted to the dark, you watch as his tongue darts out wetting his lower lip.Â
âAemond,â you say softly, and he reaches for you again, this time lacing his fingers through yours, âWill we be alright down here?â
His eye flickers around your face, his fingers tightening in your grip.
âI wonât let anything happen,â he assures, âTo any of us.â
You choose to believe him. He sounds so certain, he truly believes it. Thereâs not a doubt in your mind that he wouldnât do everything in his power to protect Helaena. Jaehaera. Maelor.
You.
You rub your thumb against the smooth skin of the back of his hand and soon your eyes grow heavy as sleep overtakes you.Â
You wake in the middle of the night, closer to morning than to midnight. The sky is still black as ink, the sounds of rain splattering against the many windows. There is no room for stars, the entire night sky is blacked out by rain clouds.Â
Jaehara snores contentedly next to you, wrapped up in her motherâs embrace. Helaenaâs sleeping form curls into her daughter, holding her in a cocoon of warmth. Mother and daughter look incredibly alike; both share the same nose and soft pout, their fair brows relaxed in sleep. The bassinet next to them holds a sleeping Maelor, his tiny nose scrunched as he dreams.Â
You sit up from your spot on the floor, looking around the dark room. Itâs hard to see anything before the room is illuminated by a flash of lightning. Aemond is no longer beside you. The room descends into darkness once more, and goosebumps rise on your arms as a chill enters the room. Helaena stirs in her sleep, pulling Jaehaera closer. A motherâs unconscious need to keep her daughter close.
Lightning flashes and the room is lit once more, a shadow dancing near the stairs.Â
âAemond?â you half whisper, as thunder booms through the sky.
The thunder is not as loud as it was earlier that night; the storm must be moving out. You rise from the floor, letting the blankets fall to a pile at your feet. Itâs cold, much colder now that youâre in your sleep shorts and T-shirt. You move toward the staircase, around the corner, and down toward the kitchen. Perhaps heâs making tea.
When you enter the kitchen, itâs empty. No kettle whistling, no lamp, and no Aemond. A noise behind you causes you to turn.
Thereâs that shadow again.
âAemond?â you call, louder this time. A small smile appears on your face.
Could he be playing a trick on you? Nervousness stirs in your belly, and you decide to follow, exiting the kitchen. You walk up the stairs, watching as the shadow dips down the left hallway, towards his study.Â
Warmth floods through you, desire lodging in your stomach. It spreads through your limbs thick like honey, like youâre floating down the hall instead of walking. Your head buzzes, thoughts fuzzy as you reach for the handle of the door, opening it.Â
Aemond looks up from his papers, a surprised look on his face as you close the door, pressing your back up against it. Youâve never been here before. The room is cozy. Warm. How can it be so warm when the rest of the house is so cold?
âYou were gone,â you tell him, though it's phrased more like a question.
âI told you, Iâm an insomniac,â he says, the corner of his lips quirking into a smile, âDid you miss me?â
âI always miss you when youâre away,â you tell him, surprised at the words that leave your mouth, the raw honesty behind them.
Aemondâs lips part, and his lashes flutter at your confession. You walk deeper into the room, letting your hand trail across the spine of the many books that decorate his shelves.Â
âYouâre always away,â you tell him, tingling with anticipation, âI never see you anymore.â
âWhat do you mean?â he asks, as you turn to face him.
âThis room,â you muse, âItâs like the heart of the house. WarmâŠtucked away.â
His cheeks are flushed, eyes focused on your face rather than the generous amount of thigh youâre showing. You glance down at your chest, watching your breasts rise and fall as you breathe then bring your eyes back to him.Â
You walk towards him, still tracing the spines of the books that line his shelves. Your hand drops as you round the corner of his desk. Aemond has pushed himself from behind his desk, still seated in the large leather chair, his legs spread wide. His lips are parted, watching you in awe.Â
âI just want you close,â you admit, stepping forward between his legs.
Aemond tenses as you place your knees on either side of his waist and straddle his lap. He groans as you sit, resting your weight against him.
âY/NâŠ.â Aemond says, holding his hands up in surrender; he wonât meet your eyes.
You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, lacing your fingers together.Â
âDonât you want me?â you whisper, tendrils of your hair tickling his sharp cheekbones.Â
Aemond looks up then, eyes meeting yours and you watch his resolve crumble. He lowers his hands to your waist, before letting them rest at the junction of your hip and thighs. The air between you is heavy, your ears are ringing as you connect his mouth to yours.Â
Fire burns brightly in your chest, warming your whole body as he kisses you. He tastes just like youâd dreamed he would; spearmint and tea, and something else that is entirely him. Rolling your hips against him you grind against the hardness forming between his legs. Gods he feels big.
You moan into his mouth, your mind happily buzzing as he squeezes the swell of your ass. His kiss is like a drug, like pure heaven racing through your veins. Your limbs are heavy, thoughts scattered and hazy.Â
Thatâs it. âFuck me,â you whisper, nails digging into his scalp, nipping at his lower lip before sucking it between your own.Â
Itâs bold, itâs lewd.
Itâs not you.
Aemond groans, lifting you from his lap as he stands, and places you on his desk. You continue to kiss him, to tear at his button-down like a marionette on a string. Something is wrong. Nothing is wrong, just like that.
âGods, youâre incredible,â he breathes, and you want to scream, to tell him to wait, not like this.
Not when it's not you. Not when your body is here, but your mind is not. It feels good though, yes? The puppetmaster continues plucking your strings, making you smile coyly at him.
âMy Aemond,â you whisper, hands dipping below the waistline of his pants.Â
Aemond freezes, pulling back from you. You tilt your head to the side as he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. His eyes are searching, no longer clouded with lust. Your nails scrape against the smooth flesh of his lower abdomen, legs still locked behind his waist.Â
âWhyâd you stop?â your lips form the words, but itâs not you.Â
Aemondâs face hardens, and he wets his lips as he releases your face. He brings his hands to your calves, unlocking them from around his waist. Gently, he places his hands on your wrists, removing them from his pants.Â
âAlys, weâve talked about this,â he says softly, taking a step back.
Suddenly, the feelings of sleep are greater, and your eyelids are heavy yet they remain open. Youâre aware youâre still talking, still moving, but someone else is controlling it. Itâs as though youâre hearing the conversation from a different room like youâve stepped out of yourself for a moment.Â
âBut sheâs perfect, Aemond,â your voice says, âAnd you like her, I know you do. I see the way you look at her. Touch her.â
âLet her go,â he says, voice almost a whisper, âAlysâŠ.please.â
She reaches for him, using your arms. Itâs like youâre moving through molasses, though you can sense her desperation, her need for him.Â
âWe can have a baby now,â she insists, your voice breaking as she speaks, âOne of our very own.â
âYou have little Jaehaera-â
âI want my own, Aemond, you promised me!â
âThat was before, Alys. Now youâreâŠâ he lets the sentence trail off, âThings are different now.â
She brings your hand to cup your breast, and you watch Aemondâs eye flicker toward the movement.
âSheâs perfect,â she tells him, âAnd sheâs so sweet, so wet for you, my love. You should feel how much she wants you.â
âStop,â Aemond says, clenching his hands into fists.
âShe aches for you. Not just physically,â Alys insists, âI can feel it all, here in her head.â
âI said enough!â Aemond yells, followed by a clap of thunder.Â
Alys doesnât flinch, you can feel her unyielding strength inside of you. She tilts your chin higher, hand dropping from your breast.Â
âSheâs different than the other one,â Alys insists, âYou didnât even like that girl-â
âYouâd no right to do that to Floris,â Aemond says, running a hand through his hair, âShe was a sweet girl--â
âSweet,â Alys scoffs, âWeak. Youâve gone soft, havenât you?â She cocks your head to the side. âDo you not love me anymore?â she asks, her voice cold as ice.
âYou know that isnât true--â
âI donât mind sharing--â
âYouâre dead, Alys.â
Sheâs silent then, and your chest tightens with the agony she feels at his words. Aemondâs gaze is pained, his seeing-eye glassy with tears.Â
âRelease her-â
âI miss you,â she says, reaching for him, âThatâs all. Is that so hard to believe?â She chuckles utterly. âI just want our baby.â
âItâs not how it is supposed to be, Alys,â he says, taking the hand she offers, âIâm so sorry.â
âYouâre always sorry,â she says, her voice trembling, âJust give me what I want.â
âI canât do that,â Aemond says, âLet her go.â
Alys holds his hand a moment more. You feel a tear roll down your cheek leaving a hot stream behind. Then your limbs go rigid before all the tension in your body releases. Your head drops forward, limbs sagging into Aemondâs arms.
âItâs alright,â he says, lifting you into his arms bridal style, âIâve got you.â
The feeling of sleep is different now; youâre groggy as though youâd just woken from a nap. Leaning into his chest, you press your face against his shoulder. Spearmint, aftershave, and tea. He smells so good. Your eyelids are heavy as he walks down the hallway. You canât hear the rain anymore. Has it stopped?
âAem-â
âShh donât speak,â he says, placing you in bed.Â
Youâre in your room. Here already? That was fast.
âWhat happened?â you ask, throat raw, mouth dry.
âItâs alright,â he tells you, laying his hand against your forehead.Â
You welcome the heat. Youâre so cold.
âThe heartâŠ.â you murmur.
âWhat?â
âThe heart of the house,â you mumble, âItâs coldâŠâ
Aemond pulls your blankets around you, tucking you in tightly sitting beside you on the bed.Â
âWhat was that?â you ask, as Aemondâs hand strokes your cheek.
âIt was just Alys,â he assures you.
You sit up then, the sleepiness leaving your body rather quickly as though someone had poured ice water down your back. The sheets fall around your waist and Aemond sighs disapprovingly as your eyebrows knit together. His hand falls from your cheek, resting on your bent leg.Â
âAlys,â you repeat, âYour wife.â
âYes.â
âShe made meâŠ.â your cheeks warm, âDidâŠdid weâŠ?â
âNo,â Aemond assures, shaking his head, âNo we only kissed.â
You can feel him still, the ache returning between your thighs. His violet eye watches you closely as does the sightless milky one. Heâs reading every microexpression on your face like the pages of a book.Â
âIâm sorry-â
âWhatever are you sorry for, dĆna hÄedar?â he says, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.
âThat weâŠthat when we kissedâŠâ you murmur, looking down, cheeks blazing with embarrassment, âThat itâŠ.that it wasnât me.â
Aemond rubs circles on your knee, watching the movement. The room is silent for a moment apart from your steady breathing. There is an ache between your eyes, deep in your skull that youâll no doubt need to sleep off.Â
âWe should rectify that,â Aemond says softly, âIf youâd like.â
Your lips part as you meet his eyes again. Heâs watching you so carefully, as though you may run from the grounds at any moment never to be seen again.Â
But youâd made your choice. And you intended to stick to it.
âYes,â you breathe, leaning forward, âIâd like to.â
âThen itâs settled,â he murmurs, leaning forward. Your eyes flutter shut as his nose bumps against yours causing you to gasp softly, lips parting even more, âItâs only right.â
You can feel his lips against yours as he speaks; just brushing slightly.
âI agree,â you say breathlessly, and he closes the gap, pressing his lips firmly against yours, his hand cupping the back of your neck.Â
Your hand fists his shirt as you kiss him, his mouth hot and greedy against yours. His lips, his perfect lips fit against yours so perfectly, and he turns his head slipping his tongue into your waiting mouth.Â
Gods you want him. You want him so badly youâre trembling with need. Aemond leans forward then, pressing you back against the bed, kissing you all the while. Your hands claw at him until his hands lace through yours, pressing them back against the mattress. He murmurs your name, lips trailing down the side of your throat. Yes, yes, yes.Â
âAemond!â you gasp, pushing at him suddenly.Â
He tears his lips from yours, standing immediately as you gasp for breath. The pair of you stare at each other wide-eyed, trying to catch your bearings.Â
âSheâs here,â Aemond says, voice hoarse.
âI donât know,â you tell him honestly, âIt felt like she mayâŠcome back.â
âFuck,â Aemond growls, âFuck!â
You wet your lips, wanting nothing more than to hold him. Aemond leans against the bedpost, lost in thought.
âWe have to be careful,â he says, âOn the grounds. Sheâll tryâŠshe doesnât know what sheâs doing.â You can hear the love he holds for her in his voice, even now. âShe just wanted a baby.â
âItâs alright,â you tell him, âWeâll be careful. We wonâtâŠ.â your sentence trails off.Â
âYes,â Aemond agrees, âNot long now. The house will go quickly once itâs on the market. Summerhal house is waiting for us.â
You force a small smile.
âNo ghosts?â you ask.Â
Aemondâs returning smile mirrors your own.
âNo promises,â he says softly, âGet some sleep.â
âWhat about Helaena? And the childrenâŠâ
âIâll go to them,â he says, walking forward, placing a kiss on your forehead, âYou rest.â
âGoodnight Aemond,â you call as he exits your room.
âGoodnight,â he says softly, the door clicking shut behind him.
You lay on the bed, your body trembling. The rain begins once more, the sound of thunder returning. It may be the rain, youâre not sure, but as you drift off to sleep you swear you hear the soft sounds of a woman crying somewhere in Harrenhal.
note: hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them).
if you would like to be tagged in this series, please let me know!
Do No Harm part 3 || masterlist || previous part || next part
pairing: doctor!Aemond Targaryen x doctor!Reader
summary: You haven't spoken to Aemond. Tensions rise between the two of you and come to a head at the arrival of a disruptive patient.
word count: 6.1k
disclaimer: yall, I am not a doctor, I am simply a Grey's Anatomy stan. If something is off or incorrect please just suspend your disbelief! I am trying my best to make it as accurate as possible but its just for fun!!
warnings below the cut!
warnings: NSFW mdni medical terminology, use of needles, discussion around addiction (specifically alcohol, rehab, recovery), fighting, blood, punching, explicit sex (p in v) fingering, oral (fem receiving), creampie, praise, dirty talk, spanking, language
dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics
note: here it is! long-awaited, thank you for being so patient as my brain jumps around đ hope you enjoy it!!
Itâs been a few days since your ultimatum with Aemond.Â
No texts.Â
No calls.Â
You pass each other in the halls and avoid eye contact, brushing past him close enough that if you extended your little finger youâd be sure to brush against the back of his hand.
You werenât going to chase him.Â
Youâd told him what you wanted. Told him youâd wanted him. And he had stayed silent. If that was the end of you and him, so be it.
But that didnât mean it wasnât killing you inside. Watching him day in and day out walking through the halls of Citadel General in those stupid blue scrubs that he somehow wore like he was strutting down a runway not the hallway of a hospital.Â
It didnât help that observations often included surgeries he was a part of. Aemond was a model resident, often asked to assist the attendants. And he was hard to miss, always wearing his signature scrub cap with little dragons peppered all over it, mid-flight. Youâd catch him glancing up at the viewing gallery, peering up over his mask every now and then. You never caught his eye, he was much too quick for that.Â
âSwitch with me,â youâd begged that afternoon after Baratheon had informed you of the plan to observe Dr. Coleâs surgery. There was no way Aemond wouldn't be there, Dr. Cole had chosen him as an obvious favorite.Â
Youâd been catching up on notes with Cory for the past ten minutes, the pair of you both trying to shove food in your mouths before your pagers inevitably went off.Â
Labs. Observation. Notes. Scut work.
The never-ending revolving schedule of your internship.Â
Cory reaches into her bag of salt and vinegar chips, clicking her mouse furiously, her brows pinched together in concentration.Â
âI canât,â she says through a mouthful, âBesides, youâve already done this lab. If I donât get these hours by the end of the week Iâm about to take Jaceâs place as Baratheonâs least favorite.â
You groan in frustration, letting your head rest against the keyboard of your computer. Nettles pops her head into the room, frowning at you both, âWhatâs wrong with her?â
Cory shrugs and you turn your head to face Nettles.Â
Beep beep!
Cory groans, checking her pager, âShit, I gotta go,â she says, crushing her chip bag and logging out of the computer before heading out of the room, âSorry again, Y/N!â
You mumble something along the lines of donât worry about it just as she disappears from sight. Nettles raises her eyebrows.
âMcDreamy?â she asks, and you continue to pout, âDamn. Dick is so good we should change his name to McDick.â
âYou suck,â you tell her, but you canât stop your smile, âDefinitely not your best work.â
âMcOrgasm? Iâm still thinking of one that truly encompasses the distress heâs causing you. Dr. Cum?â she makes a face, âOkay ew. Definitely not Dr. Cum.â
You groan, putting your face in your hands, âWhat am I going to do?â
Nettles walks towards you, slapping the back of your head. You lift your head, mouth open in shock, palming the place she slapped.
âHey! I was recently concussed!â
âAnd apparently it scrambled your brains more than we thought!â she snaps, âSee what youâre not going to do is spend your days moping over Dr. Sexy. I donât care how good his dick was. You are a doctor. You are an insanely smart woman and you are in your internship.â
Nettles lowers herself to your height, taking your hands in hers.Â
âHe is very dreamy,â she says, her brown eyes empathetic, âBut this is your time to shine. Not his. Heâs not this important.â
It hurts---gods does it hurt---but sheâs right. And you know it. Youâve been through situations like this before. Youâve gotten through things like this, and worse. Smiling at Nettles you squeeze her hands.
âThank you.â
âMhmm,â she says, smiling, âAlways here for a reality check. Youâre the sun, babe.â
You smile back at her, âIâm the sun.â
âDamn right,â she says, chuckling, âHowâs Cece doing?â
âShe was discharged this morning,â you tell her, beaming with pride, âJust finished her last round of antibiotics and her labs are clear. Iâm working on her note now.â
Nettles plops down in Coryâs seat, reaching into the chip bag she left behind. Her hand comes out empty and she frowns.Â
Jace opens the door, looking rather sweaty and discombobulated. Heâs been running around the most, trying to get on Barartheonâs good side.Â
âHey,â he says, out of breath, âCan you guys help me in the pit?â
âNo can do,â Nettles says, âWeâve got observation soon.â
You nod agreeing, but become curious noticing Jaceâs panicked expression.
âWhy whatâs wrong?â you ask.
âJustâŠfive minutes,â Jace says, âPlease, I need someone. And I canât find Sara and Cory--I just need someone, please.â
You turn to Nettles.
âThe pit?â she asks, raising an eyebrow at you, âReally?â
âTell Baratheon Iâll be there as soon as I can,â you tell her, âBesides, maybe itâs a good case.â
âGirl,â Nettles says, sighing and shaking her head.
âI just really need your help,â Jace says, leading you through the emergency room, weaving between nurses and patients, âItâs just thatâŠI mean I didnât know the other day but nowâŠâ
âDidnât know what?â you ask as he stops outside a curtain.
â-- heâs back again and family members--,â Jace says, brown eyes wide, âWeâre not supposed to work on family members.â
Your eyebrows concave together in confusion when suddenly the curtain pulls back. A man is lying in the hospital bed, a halo of platinum hair cascading onto the pillow he lays on. His eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, a lazy grin appearing on his face as he gives you a once-over.
âNephew,â he sing-songs, giggling, âYou brought me a present!â
Jace sighs, pulling the curtain from his grasp. Wait a minute. Nephew? Your eyes scan the giggling man as Jace snaps something at him. The silvery hair, the violet eyes. Seven hells.
How many Targaryens are there?
âExcuse me?â
âHeâs kidding,â Jace says, forcing a smile and turning to his uncle, âYouâre kidding.â
His uncle shakes his head, lower lip jutting out in a pout, âIâve never told a joke in my life. Sheâs pretty Jacey, well done.â
Your cheeks burn at the compliment, at the way his eyes cascade down your body. Youâve never felt more exposed in simple scrubs.Â
âStop calling me that,â Jace snaps, cheeks reddening.
âI didnât know you had it in you, Jacey boy,â he croons, âThought Baela had taken your balls when she dumped your ass--â
âFunnier every time I see you, Aegon,â Jace interrupts, closing the curtain once more.Â
Aegonâs mouth drops open in surprise before heâs hidden from sight. You raise an eyebrow at Jace, folding your arms across your chest.Â
âHeâs harmless,â Jace assures you, âPlease, please just help get him out of here as soon as possible.â
âWell, thatâs sort of difficult when we donât know whatâs wrong--â
âI know whatâs wrong.â
You frown, raising an eyebrow at him, âYou know?â
âYeah, heâs fucking drunk. Heâs always drunk. Just give him a banana bag, let him sober up, and get him out of here,â Jace instructs.
âHow do you know heâs drunk?â
âConsidering the fact he hasnât been sober since I was eight years old, itâs not hard to guess,â Jace tells you, âHeâs been to more rehab programs than I can count. Trust me on this.â
âIâm still going to have to do some labs,â you tell him, not willing to go against protocol.
âThatâs fine, do what you have to do justâŠkeep him out of the way,â Jace pleads, eyes widening as though heâd just remembered something very important, âAnd donât let Aemond know heâs here.â
Your gut tightens at the mention of Aemond.
âWhy not?â
âJust donât. Itâs better for everyone if no one knows Aegon is here,â Jace finishes, âThank you, I owe you big time.â
âYeah you do,â you confirm, and then Jace hurries out of sight, eager to escape the pit.
The curtain opens once more and you turn, meeting the curious gaze of Aegon Targaryen. You try to stop the scowl that threatens to overtake your face as he grins widely, a mischievous look in his eyes.Â
âOw!â
âWill you hold still!â
âYouâre killing me!â
âStop being so dramatic!â
âIt hurts!â
âIt wonât hurt if you stay still, Aegon!â
Aegon throws his opposite arm over his eyes as you attempt to find a vein for the third time. Heâs too squirmy, too anxious that as soon as the needle pierces his ivory skin heâs flinching away and howling.Â
âIâve seen children do better than you,â you grumble, and he gasps in feigned shock.
âThey let you torture children?â
âHush!â you insist, and to your relief, heâs able to stay still as you start the IV, âThere you go. See? That wasnât so hard.â
Aegon peaks over his arm, glancing down at the tubes as you assemble them properly, making sure the drip is even. He frowns as you release the tourniquet.Â
âI bruise like a peach,â he mumbles.
âSounds like you need more iron in your diet,â you tell him, walking to the other side of his bed. You need to take his blood pressure and begin wrapping the band around his arm.Â
âCan I have something for the pain?â he asks.
âNo, you may not.â
âNot even Tylenol?â
âNo.â
âHells,â he mumbles, âYou should know, I enjoy it when women are mean to me, it turns it on.â
âOf course it does.â
âMhmm. I eat that shit up.â
Youâve been trying not to look at his face for too long. If you look at Aegon, youâll start thinking about Aemond.Â
Youâve been trying very hard not to think about Aemond.
They donât really look alike, despite the matching hair and eye color. Though heâs sitting down you can tell Aegon has none of Aemondâs height. Heâs soft whereas Aemond is sharp. Their mouths may be the most similar thing about them, both awarded beautifully pouty lips made to be kissed.Â
âWhatâs on your mind, doc?â Aegon says, eyes narrowing.
âNothing.â
âYouâre lying, Iâm very perceptive,â Aegon insists, âCome on tell me. What is it? Doctor drama? Boyfriend drama?â Your face must give something away when he asks, because his eyes light up, âBoyfriend drama.â
Itâs no use, you can feel your face heating up, âI donât have a boyfriend.â
âFuck off.â
Your head snaps up at him, and you remove the blood pressure sleeve. Discarding it in favor of your stethoscope you place the end against his chest.
âBreathe in.â
âDâyou have a girlfriend then?â he relentlessly continues.
âNo.â
âA fuck buddy?â
âHells,â you mumble in frustration, trying to listen to his heartbeat.Â
âPlease tell me it isnât my nephew,â Aegon says, making a face.
âWhat?â you answer, far too quickly, âNo! Seven hells, Jace and I are friends! And I do not sleep with colleagues.â
âEveryone sleeps with colleagues,â Aegon argues, âHow else do you meet people?â
âThat working well for you?â
âOh I donât work,â he answers, âThatâs boring.â
You choke back a laugh. The man truly is ridiculous.
âAlright then. Well, youâre all set once youâre done with your fluids weâll check your vitals again and send you on your way,â you tell him, making a note in his chart, âI can have the nurses reach out to some detox programs if youâre interested.â
âIâm not.â
âLook, I understand a bit of your history from what Jace shared. But you should know, recovery isnât linear, and relapse is completely normal-â
âI havenât relapsed.â
You blink.Â
âYour BAC was 1.06,â you inform him, âThatâs more than a little buzzed.â
âI havenât had a drink since Nyra birthed her last gremlin,â he insists, not elaborating on who Nyra was, âIâm just like this.â
Your eyebrows knit together. He could be lying, you know that. Addiction is one hell of a disease.Â
âDonât look at me like that,â he groans.
âLike what?â
âLike you donât believe me.â
Youâre silent for a moment, just staring into his violet eyes.Â
âYour blood--â
âFuck the labs,â he groans, âThey always come back like that. I havenât taken anything. I havenât drank anything. Believe me, Iâd be much more obvious.â
âHow so?â
âWell for starters, a pretty little thing like you wouldnât be so far away,â he comments, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, âI donât know why this happens. I think my body got so used to being fucked up, it just does it on its own now.â
âYouâre being serious,â you comment, and he nods.
It goes against everything youâve learned in med school, and in residency thus far. Your pager beeps and you glance at it. Itâs Nettles. Youâre supposed to be joining her soon.Â
When you hear hooves, think horses, not zebras.Â
You chew your bottom lip. Aegon raises a brow, already looking better with the intake of fluids.Â
Fuck it.Â
You quickly page Nettles, and let her know youâre needed longer in the pit. Hopefully, Baratheon doesnât kill you for this.Â
Weâre going with the zebras.Â
âOkay so Iâm going to send the sample to the lab and see what comes back,â you inform Aegon, âAnd if youâre being honest with me, we should have some answers for you.â
Aegon swings his legs over the side of the bed.Â
âWhy would I lie?â
You want to roll your eyes, but youâre sure if you do in his presence once more theyâll fall out of your skull. He gives you a cheeky grin as he notices your exasperation.Â
âPeople lie all the time,â you tell him.
âTo you?â Aegon asks, snatching your hand is his, âNever, princess.â
You hear Nettles suddenly, her voice flowing through the ER and your stomach turns. Surely, it's Dr. Baratheon coming to reprimand you for missing observation to spend time in the pit âtrolling for surgeries.â The curtain opens then, and to your horror, itâs Aemond who has discovered you rather than Dr. Baratheon.Â
His eyes fall to your face first before he turns to Aegon. His gaze drops to your interlocked hands. Something washes over him, his expression cold and calculating.Â
âOut,â he says, voice quiet as death.Â
Aegon chuckles, but you can hear the nervousness heâs trying to hide. You can see it in the way he wets his lips, the way he pulls his hand from yours.
âBroâŠâ
âOut, now,â Aemond repeats, âDonât make me drag you out in front of all these people.â
âCareful now,â Aegon says, standing, âyou know how mummy feels about you getting your hands dirty--â
Aemond steps forward, hands fisting Aegonâs shirt and dragging him forward. Your eyes widen in shock and Nettles yelps as Aemond pushes past her, dragging Aegon with him.Â
The display has gathered the attention of several nurses and patients as Aemond continues to drag him through the ambulance entrance and out the automatic doors. You and Nettles remain closely on their heels as they exit the hospital.
Aemond releases his hold, sending Aegon stumbling into the road.Â
âSeven hells!â Nettles says, a shocked expression on her face.Â
Aegon laughs maniacally, bending over with his hands on his knees. He shakes his head several times, like a dog before looking up.
âGo home,â Aemond says, flexing his hand.
âWhereâs that?â
âWherever youâve been staying I suppose,â Aemond quips.
Aegon is panting, staring at his brother.
âIâd like to see Helaena.â
âThatâs not happening.â
âHelaena!â he yells at the sky, âSheâs my sister, I know she wants to see me.â
âYouâre not shaking her down for any more fucking money,â Aemond says, his voice louder this time, making you flinch, âGo home, Aegon.â
Aegon wets his lips, running a hand through his hair. His eyes meet yours.Â
âYouâll call me? With the results?â he asks, and Aemond snorts.
âAnother STI screening?â Aemond snarks.Â
Aegonâs tongue pokes his cheek, an angry smile on his face.Â
âGotta make sure Iâm all clear before saddling up with a fit bird,â he taunts, eyes falling on you as he says it, grabbing his crotch for emphasis.Â
Aemond lurches forward his hand connecting with Aegonâs cheek. Nettles and you both scream as Aemond jumps back, Aegon spitting a mix of blood and saliva on the ground. He laughs again, smiling with bloody teeth.Â
âGet him cleaned up and get him out of here,â Aemond instructs Nettles, before heading back inside and leaving the three of you standing there.
Aegonâs lip is split, along with a cut on his cheekbone. He spits again, wiping his face and nodding at you.
âNo boyfriend eh?â he says, grinning. Your face flushes.Â
âI wasnât lying.â
His grin widens.
âOne of us is,â he says, referencing your earlier conversation, âGuess weâll find out who.â
Nettles approaches him, and he winces. She turns to you.
âYou should go see if heâs okay,â she says, nodding to the doors.Â
You run back inside leaving Nettles and Aegon, your eyes searching for Aemond. Hurrying to the nurses' station, they inform you which direction he took off in. A nervous sweat breaks out on the back of your neck as you hurry down the hallway. You spot him then, taller than everyone else, watching as he ducks into an on-call room.Â
Quickening your pace you follow him inside. Itâs quiet as you close the door, besides the sound of a noise machine echoing white noise in the dimly lit space. There are two beds in this room; truly the on-call rooms are in such sorry states. Small twin mattresses with paper-thin sheets and pillows that may as well be pieces of foam.Â
Aemond sits on the bed to the left, his head resting in his hands. You close the blinds on the door, flipping the sign that says âBoth Beds Occupiedâ along with flicking the lock. You donât think heâll want to be disturbed.
âAemond,â you say softly. He doesnât move. The knuckles of his right hand are bloody.Â
Taking a step closer, you watch his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breaths heâs taking. Anxiety churns in your stomach, and you take a step back, placing your hand on the handle of the door.
âIâll just leave you--â
âDonât,â Aemond speaks quietly for the first time, raising his head. His gaze softens, his eyes somewhat glassy. âPlease donât go.â
Your heart starts to race, but you nod, stepping back toward him. Sitting beside him the bed creaks; you cross your ankles and place your hands on the edge of the bed. Aemond rests his chin on his hands, arms propped on his knees. The pair of you sit in silence for several moments. It begins to rain outside, fat droplets of water beating against the window.Â
âYou should get that looked at,â you finally say, nodding at his hand.Â
Aemond merely hums in response, flexing his fingers.Â
âSeriously, youâre a surgeon,â you continue, âWhat are you thinking, throwing punches like that?â
Aemond glances at his hand, curling and uncurling his fingers, âHe brings out the worst in me.â
âYour brother.â
âMhmm,â he answers, shaking his hand. Itâs not as bad as it looks, thankfully. He could have done some serious damage.
âIâm sorry. Jace told meâŠwell Iâm just sorry.â
âItâs alright. Someone has to treat him. Iâm sorry if he was inappropriate to you.â
âItâs alright,â you assure him, âWe donât get to choose how patients behave.â
âAegon can be a lot. Take it from someone who knows him rather well.â
âNoted.â
You sit in silence some more. The sky outside has begun to turn dark as clouds roll in, the sound of thunder audible in the distance. A storm is looming.
âIâve missed you,â he says so softly you almost donât catch it.
Your hands dig into the side of the bed, your heart pounding against your ribs making your chest feel painfully tight.
âDonât-â
âY/N..â
âPlease Aemond,â you cut him off, eyes watery, âPlease. Donât say that if you donât mean it.â
âI do mean it,â he insists, turning his head toward you, âItâs justâŠY/N that day I didnât give you an answer. And you deserve one. I like you. I like you so much. Youâre an incredibly intelligent person, funny, adorable, andâŠâ he trails off, shaking his head slightly as he chuckles to himself.Â
âAnd what?â
âAnd that scares the shit out of me. I havenât felt this way in a long time. I wasnât expecting you. When I moved here I just planned on keeping my head down and thenâŠ.then there was you,â he looked away, his eyes lit up in wonder, âI saw you in that bar, and it was like the sun came out.âÂ
Your lips part, your stomach flutters pleasantly at his words, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. He glances at you shyly, the tips of his ears tinged pink.
âAnd then I saw you here and youâre an intern, at the beginning of your residency I justâŠ.I mess things up. I donât want to mess things up for you. Or with you.â
You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his, âOkay.â
âButâŠI miss you. I miss talking to you, kissing you,â Aemond continues, the top of his cheeks turning pink, matching his ears, âYou asked me if Iâm in or out. I didnât answer, and I should have. Iâm all in.â
âAemondâŠâ
âIf youâll have me,â he adds, âIf youâŠif you want to give this a try.â
You smile at him softly.
âItâs all I wanted from the start.â
Aemond smiles, leaning toward you and connecting his lips to yours. You sigh against his mouth, as his hand snakes around the back of your neck, keeping you from going anywhere. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips, and you part them eagerly accepting the warm muscle into your mouth.Â
Your hands bury themselves in his scrubs as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. His opposite hand reaches for your waist, sliding down to rest on the meat of your thigh. He rubs soothing circles there for a moment, before gripping you hard and pulling you on top of him.Â
You straddle his waist as he scoots backward, pressing his back flat against the wall. He breaks the kiss for only a moment, tugging your blue scrub top over your head, before desperately chasing your lips once more. Shivering in the cool air, your nipples harden in your bra. You almost wish youâd worn something a little sexier, the plain black bra making you feel underdressed.Â
Aemond eyes your tits like a madman as his skilled hands eagerly unclasp your bra, pulling it from your torso.Â
âShould we be doing this--â you gasp, grinding against the hardness between his thighs.Â
âYes, yes we should,â he says, kissing you once more before pausing, his eyebrows knitting together, âUnless you donât want..â
âNo! I mean--fuck, yes, yes we should and I want to,â you whimper as his teeth graze against your neck, âBut I mean, hereâŠâ Aemond continues his attention to your neck, his perfect mouth nipping and sucking the sensitive skin.
âNo oneâs coming,â he murmurs, âYou locked the door, yes?â
You nod, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.
âThatâs a good girl,â he murmurs, groaning as you clench your fists, tugging at his hair.
He catches your lips once more and you arch your back, pressing yourself against him trying to get as close as humanly possible. Moaning against his mouth he chuckles softly, the sound reverberating against you.Â
âShh,â he croons, brushing some hair from your face, âYou have to be quiet.â He nips your lower lip as he says it, smoothing his tongue along where he bit, âSomething you have trouble with, I recall.â
Your cheeks warm at the memory of your first night together, the puddle heâd turned you into with such little effort. Lashes fluttering, you look up at him as he admires you.
âYouâll have to remind me,â you tease, earning a growl from him as he flips you onto your back beginning to pull your scrub pants from your body.
Eager to assist, you kick wildly trying to get the soft material off. Aemond catches your right calf in his large hand, trying to avoid being kicked.
âCareful,â he chuckles, pressing a hot kiss to your calf, helping you out of your scrubs, shoes, and underwear.Â
âSorry,â you manage to say through your giggles as he tosses the ball of clothes toward the opposite bed, âWeâre a bit uneven now, wouldnât you agree?â
Grinning, Aemond pulls his scrub top from his body as thunder crashes outside. The sky has darkened considerably and lightning flashes, illuminating the room. Aemondâs hands travel up your calves, hooking against your knees as he cocks an eyebrow at you.Â
âBetter?â
Your eyes trace down his exposed front following the planes of his chest, the chiseled outline of his abdominal muscles. You swallow, feeling yourself clench as your gaze rests on the outline of his hard bulge.
Nodding, you take your lower lip between your teeth, dragging your gaze back to his face. Aemondâs breathing is heavy as he sits on his haunches, eyes raking down your naked body.
âFuck youâre beautiful,â he breathes appreciatively, âGodsâŠâ He lets one hand move up your body, fingers dancing against the skin of your waist, up the side of your ribs to your breast. He explores higher and higher until with a desperate whine you reach up pulling him toward you.
You could kiss him forever.
You want to kiss him forever.Â
The hand that rests on your leg curls inward, stroking the soft flesh of your inner thigh before inching higher. Your breathing has started to turn to pants as Aemond lets one of his long fingers part through your silky folds, spreading your arousal.Â
âSeven hells,â he groans, swirling his finger against your clit, âAll this for me?â
âMhmm,â you tell him, biting your lip and trembling against him already.
Aemond only smirks, that familiar look of confidence in his eye, âUse your words, baby.â
âYes,â you tell him, as the tip of his finger sinks inside of you, âFuck-- just for you.â
âThatâs my good girl,â he praises, pushing further inside of you, stretching you out on his forefinger. A second finger soon joins and he scissors the digits against your fluttering walls.
Youâre trying to be quiet---really you are trying--- but it feels too good. Heâs too precise with his movements, too insistent on bullying that sensitive rough patch that causes your eyes to roll back in your head. âAemondâŠI canât--â
âShhh baby, I know, it feels too good to be quiet, huh?â he says, voice full of mock sympathy, âDonât worry, Iâll make you cum really quick, let me take care of you, yeah?â
You nod furiously, a choked moan escaping you as Aemond presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Moving away from you, he keeps up his relentless pace with his fingers as he slides onto his stomach on the bed. Your eyes widen as Aemond glances up at you from between your legs, a cheeky smile on his handsome face.Â
âAem----oh fuck!â your concern is short-lived as Aemond presses his mouth against you.
His tongue traces lazy circles over your clit, groaning, âHells, I missed this sweet little pussy,â he mumbles, taking the sensitive button between his lips and suctioning around it.Â
Throwing your head back against the pillows, your back arches, and your mouth opens in a silent scream. The rain continues to pour outside, the drumming against the window matching that of your racing heart.Â
âOh yeah, I know thatâs so good, huh?â Aemond mumbles between licks of your clit, his free hand snaking upwards to grope at your breasts, âFuck you look so prettyâŠall whiny and desperate.â
He curls his fingers as he says it, massaging the tender spot inside of you causing your pussy to spasm against his fingers. His tongue traces nonsensical patterns around your clit, his lips sucking and releasing causing lewd wet noises to echo through the room.
âNext time,â he murmurs a quiet promise, âNext time, when Iâve got lots of timeâŠweâll see how long I can keep you like this.â His fingers pinch your right nipple, tweaking it harshly.
Your belly tenses, muscles constricting against his fingers as he returns his sweet torture on your clit, and you finish with a muffled sob as you turn your head, pressing your mouth against your shoulder. Aemond murmurs soft praises, talking you through your orgasm as your legs shake around him.Â
âFuck, fuckfuckfuck,â you hiss through your teeth as he slowly pulls his fingers from your fluttering pussy, bringing them to his mouth.Â
You watch, wide-eyed as he sucks the lengthy digits, moaning at the taste of you.
âTurn around baby,â he says, sitting up, âPut your face in the pillow.â
Shakily, you turn on your hands and knees, before letting yourself fall to your forearms. Aemond slides his hand down your back, admiring the curve of your spine, spreading your cheeks wide.Â
âGoddamn,â he murmurs, slapping your cheeks, causing you to yelp, âSorry, couldnât help myself.â
âYouâre an ass man?â you tease, looking back over your shoulder.
âIâm a âyouâ man,â he argues, grabbing his length and sliding it against your folds, âNow be a good girl, and let me take care of you.â The fat head of his cock pokes at your entrance.
âPlease,â you breathe as he starts to slide in. Aemond pauses, groaning slightly.
âFuck baby, you canât say that all sweet right now,â he growls, âWe donât have time.â
âPlease, put it in,â you whimper, cheek pressed against the pillow, drool forming a wet patch under your cheek.
Aemondâs hand cracks down on your ass once more, âBe a good girl you little brat.â
You whimper, your begging ceasing as he slides fully inside your tight, wet heat. The stretch of his fingers was nothing compared to his thick cock. Your walls tense around him, pulsating around his thick length as he bottoms out. Rocking backward, he slides nearly all the way out before thrusting back in.Â
Electricity bursts through your veins, pleasure crackling through your limbs like the lightning outside of the window. The force of his thrusts sends your face deep into the pillow, muffling the sharp cries of pleasure you emit. You couldnât stop if you wanted to, it feels too fucking good, the head of his cock rubbing ceaselessly against your g-spot as he ruts against you; heâs grunting softly, muttering praises all the while, his fingers digging into your hips.Â
âFuck,â he gasps as your knees slide down, legs shaking so bad youâre unable to keep them upright, âItâs okay baby, just relax I got you.â
Your legs bend against the mattress, thighs splayed, hip flexors burning with the deep stretch it awards you. Aemond never relents, just continues to slap his hips against the softness of your ass, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out, in and out.
âAemond,â you moan, âFuck it feels--â
âYeah?â he groans, âHowâs it feel baby?â
âS-sâgood, Aem, fuck, itâs so good,â you whimper, hands fisting the sheets, the bed shaking with every harsh thrust.Â
The bed grinds against your sensitive nipples and clit sending sparks of pleasure burning through you.
âGonna make this pussy feel so good,â he says, leaning some of his weight on top of you, his face next to yours, âGonna take you home after our shifts, youâd like that, yeah?â His arms hold him up, propped on either side of your head.Â
âYes, fuck please,â you agree, turning your face, and feeling him press a kiss to your shoulder blade.
âGonna have you ride my face,â he promises, dragging his nose between your shoulder blades, âWanna make that pussy feel so good, till you canât fucking take it anymore.â
âFuck Aemond,â you shiver with delight at his filthy words, at the promise of a repeat of the first night youâd been together. A promise of more.Â
âMissed you too much,â he murmurs against your shoulder, sending warmth pooling in your belly, âNeed you close to me.â
âI missed you,â you whimper, âFuck, need you so bad.â
âIâm all yours,â he says, nearly whimpering himself, âFuck baby, youâre so tight, feel so good clenching around my cock.â
âYeah?â you ask, lifting your head slightly, and glancing back through hooded eyes.
Aemond maneuvers himself, leaning to capture your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss as he continues to pound into you.Â
âFuckâŠ.câmon baby, one more time,â Aemond encourages as heat winds a tight coil of pleasure in your belly, âCanât have my baby only cumming once, now can I? Come on, thatâs a good girl.â
The pitch of your cries increases and you slam your face against the pillow to muffle your strangled cry as your whole body tense, pussy constricting like a vice around his cock as you come. Itâs intense, it burns with a brutal passion that paints stars behind your eyelids.Â
Aemondâs thrusts become sloppier and with a few more slaps of his hips, you feel his cock pulsate inside of you and the warmth release of his cum filling you up. You turn your cheek from the pillow, your body tingling with the remnants of your orgasm as you suck in a breath. Gently, Aemond pulls out of you, peppering kisses down the length of your spine as he does so.Â
You hum happily as he slides out, placing his hands under your thighs and maneuvering you out of the frog-like position you were previously in. Your hip flexors ache, but itâs a good pain--well worth being fucked into the mattress. Aemond turns you on your back, brushing some hair from your sweaty forehead.Â
âHey there,â he says softly. The room is quiet, the rain has stopped. âAre you alright?â
âI donât know if Iâll ever walk right again,â you tell him with a content sigh, âbut that aside, Iâd say Iâm more than alright.â
Aemond chuckles, thumb smoothing your cheekbone, making you lean into his gentle touch.Â
âHold on,â he murmurs, standing up, walking to the adjacent bathroom, and flicking on the light.Â
You watch him walk away, admiring his ass. Heâs got a rather nice one. You hear him turn the water on and a moment later he returns with a washcloth. Not trusting yourself to stand, you simply spread your legs and let him clean up the remains of your combined releases. Your hips jerk as he carefully brushes against your swollen clit causing him to release a breathy laugh.
Beep beep!
The noise snaps you both out of your post-coital bliss bubble and you hurry to find your clothes. Aemond reaches for his pager, desperate to get his scrubs on.Â
Beep beep!
Itâs your pager this time. Shit, Baratheon must be pissed.Â
Both of you scramble, switching scrub tops as Aemond accidentally tries to put on yours, causing you to erupt into a fit of laughter that is only stopped when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a heated kiss.Â
âStop, stop,â you beg, pushing against his hard chest, âShit we have to go.â
âOne more--â
âYouâre insatiable--â
âOh Iâll show you insatiable,â he says, lips tugging upwards in a smirk, âYou just wait until tonight.â
Your cheeks burn as you yank on your bottoms, fixing your hair. Sex hair is not an option, not when Baratheon will be up in arms about your disappearance. Glancing at your pager, you read what it says before clipping it to your waist.Â
âOkay, I gotta go,â you tell him, shoving your feet into your sneakers.
âMeet me in the lobby? When youâre done?â he asks, unable to hide his smile as you walk to the door on trembling legs.
âOkay,â you tell him, leaning forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, âAnd we could get dinner?âÂ
âAnything you want,â he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, âAnythingâ another kiss, âAtâ and another one, âall.â
You hum happily, placing your hand over his, your entire body warming with his affection.
âIâll see you then,â you tell him, unwillingly pulling away and unlocking the door.
You leave first, Aemond leaving a few moments later. Watching as he fixes the collar of his scrubs, you find yourself beaming. Aemond turns, catching your eye before turning down the hall, a small smile playing on his lips.
Gods, this is going to be a long shift.
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summary ~ You begin to adapt to the unusual events of Harrenhal and your mysterious host. An unexpected guest arrives.
warnings below the cut for your convenience
warnings ~ spooky ghostly stuff, spiders
note: and so begins our spooky adventure! I hope you enjoy it!
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You lay in bed, tossing and turning for several hours waiting for another scream to inevitably pierce through the now silent halls of Harrenhal house.Â
Your eyes are too heavy, and you drift into a dreamless sleep. The belly full of tea must have helped soothe your nerves. Or perhaps it was more your time spent with the stoic head of the house.Â
It is Maelorâs cry that wakes you the following morning, rather than his motherâs, through the baby monitor on your nightstand. You hear his small gurgles as he wakes, hungry for his morning bottle. Grabbing the monitor, you jump out of bed to head toward the nursery.Â
As you walk down the hallway, the door opens and Jaehaera stands dressed in a pink dress, her hair done in two braids down the side of her head.Â
âBeat you!â she says, grinning like the Cheshire cat.Â
âHowâd you get ready so quickly?â you comment, smile slightly faltering, âAnd how did you do your h--â
âCome on Miss Gevie, breakfast is my favorite meal of the day!â she sings, brushing past you and towards the hallway.
âJaeha--- um--- I have to get Maelor!â you call, as she disappears around the corner her braids swinging behind her, âOkayâŠ.you head down!â
The day starts with a simple breakfast of oatmeal and eggs--Jaehaera is first to inform you that the only way to eat eggs is sunny side up. Aemond joins you but only for a cup of coffee. You notice he prefers it black. He doesnât speak to you, listening intently to Jaehaera as she chatters away. Then Jaehaera begins her morning lessons when her tutor arrives promptly at nine. A kind older woman who awards you a tight smile when she introduces herself.
You hold Maelor against your hip as he babbles, walking through the main foyer and toward the library. Several workers have arrived, and youâve seen Aemond directing them to different areas of the house throughout the morning. Heâs present in the library, sitting at the oak desk when you enter. Â
âSleep well?â he asks, as he notices you enter the library. His eye flickers to Maelor in your arms.Â
Rising from his seat, he closes a folder of papers before rounding the side of the desk. He walks closer to you, lifting his hand toward Maelor. The baby grabs Aemondâs forefinger with his pudgy fist.
âAs well as I could. I was nervous during the night,â you admit, cheeks warming, âJust in case anything happened again.â
Aemond hums, still watching Maelor who holds his finger hostage. The baby brings it to his mouth, gnawing on it with his gums.Â
âHeâs teething,â Aemond comments, âHopefully that wonât cause more late-night disturbances.â
âItâs alright. I know what I signed up for,â you assure him, as he pulls his hand away from Maelor, patting the baby on the head.Â
âIâm afraid youâll get more than you bargained for,â he says, eyes meeting yours, âThis isâŠa lot.â
Your eyes search his face, trying to decipher the emotions he hides. Trying to find some cracks in the armor he wears during the day. You saw some last night, in the kitchen. The walls came down, if only for a moment.
âYou need help,â you tell him, âYou canât manage this all on your own. The kids, Helaena, the houseâŠIâm here to help.â
âThe children,â he clarifies, âYouâre here to help the children.â
âAnd you,â you offer, âI meanâŠif I can be of help with anything Iâm happy to do so.â
Let me help you, you silently beg. Someone has to.
Aemond hums once more, âYouâre very kind, Miss Y/L/N.â
âJust doing my job,â you assure him, but your face continues to warm at his compliment.Â
You hold each otherâs gaze for several moments before Aemond finally looks away.Â
âI have some work to do,â he tells you, and you take it as a sign to leave him be.Â
âMaelor is about ready for a nap,â you tell him, turning on your heel to go.
You shut the door behind you, neither speaking again.
âIâll be gone for a few days,â Aemond tells you later in the week during one of your late-night chats.Â
A cup of tea at midnight has become somewhat of a tradition for both of you. Helaena wakes nearly every night. It's always the same. Screaming for the son she lost. The green and purple cups are always waiting for you in the cabinet by the stove for your inevitable journey into the kitchen.Â
âJust tying up some loose ends in Kingâs Landing,â he assures you, âHelaena should be alright. Iâve spoken with her doctor about increasing her nighttime medication.â
âAnd if she isnât?â you ask, unable to hide your nervousness at the thought of him leaving.
Aemond watches you for a moment, humming softly to himself. It does little to soothe your nerves.
Things go smoother than expected while Aemond is away. You fall into a gentle routine with Jaehaera and Maelor.Â
While Jaehaera is in her lessons you bring Maelor to Helaena. As Aemond had prepared you, Helaena refuses to hold him. She barely even looks at him. Her eyes instead are trained on your face, reading your microexpressions like the pages of a book. You and Helaena donât talk much during these visits, though you attempt to engage her in conversation.
She always joins you for lunch, after you put Maelor down for his afternoon nap. Jaehaera comes fresh from High Valyrian and chats with her mother in their native tongue.Â
Then itâs time for Jaehaeraâs afternoon lessons and you get some time for yourself as Helaena returns to her room like a bird returning to its cage.Â
Usually, you journey to the library, browsing through the collection of novels and trying not to snoop. Though you must admit, in an old house like this it's hard not to.Â
Curiosity killed the cat.
Advice you should probably heed. You glance at a desk in the library strewn with papers. Aemond has a private office, heâd told you as much when you arrived. Still, your fingers skim the papers, and you pick up a manila folder examining its contents.Â
Old documents, withered and yellowed nearly disintegrating from age. You can barely read the cursive ledger on the page. Squinting, you are able to make out the word Strong.
Satisfaction brought it back.
A loud thump causes you to drop the folder in surprise, sending pages scattering to the floor.Â
âShit,â you curse to yourself, dropping to your knees and picking up the pages, putting them back where they belong.Â
You hurry over to the window, looking outside. A red Corvette is parked, its driver missing. The noise must have been the car door slamming shut. Dusting off your knees you hurry out of the library closing the door behind you. You quicken your pace down the hall and front steps as voices echo from the kitchen.
A man stands in front of the sink clad in a three-piece suit, holding his cell phone to his ear.
âTell CorlysâŠdammit, I canât hear you,â he snaps, holding his phone in front of him, âHello?â
The call clearly drops and he sighs, âBloody service.â
You clear your throat, alerting him of your presence. He turns slowly, still looking at his phone as though he couldnât be bothered with you being there at all. A lock of silver hair falls into his eyes as he leans against the counter. A ring on his hand catches the light. Like youâd need to see the Targaryen sigil stamped on the back. You knew he was a relative the moment you saw him.
Targaryens donât camouflage well.Â
âJust a moment,â he comments, glancing up at you from his phone. He does a double-take, straightening up and slipping his phone into his back pocket, âHello.â
âSorryâŠI wasnât expecting anyone,â you tell him, watching the corner of his mouth tick upwards in a smirk.Â
Aemond does that too.
âAnd I wasnât expecting a beautiful woman to greet me,â the stranger says, âSo I suppose weâre both surprised.â
Warmth floods through you at his flirtatious tone. Heâs older--much older-- and an air of confidence encircles him like a veil of smoke.
âDaemon,â he introduces, extending his hand for you to shake, âAnd you must be the au pair.âÂ
You place your hand in his, and he grasps it firmly. His palm is rough and warm; much larger than your own. Your lips part, youâre sure you havenât taken a breath since heâs looked at you.
âMhmm,â you answer, telling him your name.
Daemon releases your hand, shaking his head slightly as he chuckles to himself. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end.
âSomething funny?â you ask, trying to keep the annoyance from your tone.
âNo, nothing. Iâve found au pairs to be particularly helpful,â he comments, laughing under his breath as though heâd told a joke, âIt just surprises me, is all.â
âWhy is it surprising?â
âAemondâs not usually the sort,â Daemon says, not clarifying any further.Â
You understand what he is implying, your cheeks growing hotter.
âAemond and I have a strictly professional relationship,â you tell him, causing him to chuckle more.
âIâm sure you do. Aemond does value his professional relationships, doesnât he?â Daemon says with his smirk growing, âAll this talk of my nephew and Iâve yet to see the man. Where is he?â
âHeâs not here.â
Daemonâs eyebrows lift toward his hairline.
âNot here?â
âHeâs away on business. Wonât be back for a few days.â
âAnd he left you, all alone?â Daemon asks, taking a step closer to you. He reaches up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You canât suppress the shiver that rolls through you.Â
âI can take care of myself,â you insist. Daemonâs scent floods your senses; teakwood, smoke, cinnamon. Intoxicating; it makes your head spin.Â
âIâm sure you can. My nephew wouldnât have hired you if he had any doubts,â Daemon murmurs, dropping his hand, âItâs not the harmless nanny he needs to worry about.â
âWhat do you mean?â
Daemon watches you like a cat toying with a mouse. His lip curls slightly, enjoying your discomfort.Â
âAre you aware of the history of this house?â Daemon asks.
âYes,â you tell him.
âWell, there you have it,â Daemon says, walking by you, âHave Aemond call me when heâs returned.â
You can hear his steps echoing down the hall, followed by the slamming of a car door. You stand in the kitchen for several moments, trying to catch your bearings when Jaehaera runs in.
âWho was that?â she asks, throwing her arms around your waist.Â
âJustâŠnothing,â you assure her, stroking her hair, âHow were your lessons?â
As Jaehaera tells you about her day, you focus on calming your racing heartbeat. You canât help but linger on what Daemon had said.
What exactly was he worried about?
Helaena Targaryen loves arachnids.Â
This becomes apparent when a spider scurries across the floral picnic blanket youâd laid out for Jaehaera.Â
Maelor sits with his thumb in his mouth rocking back and forth as though a gentle breeze may knock him onto his back. Sitting up is quite new to him. The afternoon had been going quite well before the eight-legged monster descended on the tea party. Â
âMiss Gevie! Miss Gevie!â Jaehaera screeches, launching herself off of the blanket and into your arms. Her girlish scream echoes through the backyard and she trembles against you.Â
The arachnid freezes at her movements, eight legs tensed and ready. Maelor stares at his sister, violet eyes wide before they drop to the blanket. Helaena is seated in a chair a few feet away, the large sun hat she wears partially obscuring her face.Â
âThe fresh air does her good,â Aemond had told you before he left.
Helaena dives off of her chair, knees crashing into the grass beside the picnic blanket. You comfort Jaehaera as Helaena dips her torso lower against the blanket letting her hand dance above the spider. She presses her cheek into the blanket as the spider curiously lifts two legs up toward her dancing fingers.Â
âDonât be afraid,â she murmurs, touching the tips of her fingers to the spider's outstretched legs. She stays like that for a moment, a small smile appearing on her face.Â
Maelor watches his mother, his thumb falling from his mouth.Â
âKill it!â Jaehaera demands as her mother scoops the creature into her hand.Â
Helaena rolls onto her back, the rim of her hat getting crushed beneath her. Her knees are stained green. Maelor claps his pudgy hands together letting out a gleeful squawk.Â
âWhy?â Helaena asked, looking at the creature in her palm with the fondness she no longer gives her children, âFor simply being here?â
âHeâs ugly and I hate him,â Jaehaera insists, âMake her kill it, please.â
Helaena only hums, letting the spider climb down her arm. She sounds like Aemond when she does that. Warmth bleeds down your cheeks and onto your neck. Youâd been missing him. The nights have been rather empty without your late-night chats.
Helaena turns on her side, ignoring her daughterâs pleas and releasing the spider into the grass. Once free, it takes off lost from sight almost instantly.Â
âThere,â Helaena says happily, âNo need for violence, byka jorrÄelagon.â
âKepus wouldâve killed it,â Jaehaera says, with her lower lip jutted outwards in a pout.Â
There is a shift in the energy between mother and daughter.
âWhy donât you ask him then?â Helaena says, rolling onto her back once more and closing her eyes.Â
âKepus!â Jaehaera says, pushing away from your arms and running toward the house. You watch her run, following her gaze up the stone steps until you meet Aemondâs eyes.Â
Heâs back.
She throws herself into Aemondâs arms much like she did your own, and he reaches down, scooping her up in his arms and holding her against his waist. Thereâs a swooping feeling in your stomach as he approaches, the heat returning to your cheeks.Â
âHow are my girls?â Aemond asks as he moves closer.Â
You move to the other side of the blanket, scooping Maelor in your arms as he begins to bang his fists on Helaenaâs hat.
âWeâre having a tea party,â Jaehara tells him, âMuña saved a spider. I said she should kill it.âÂ
Aemond chuckles softly at her pointed tone.Â
âYour mother would never,â he says, setting her down on the blanket, âAnd you?â
You glance up at him, surprised he addressed you, âMe?â
Aemond nods, holding your gaze, âHow are you?â
You can hear the blood rushing in your ears as he continues to stare, piercing gaze never leaving your face.Â
My girls.
âIâm well,â you answer.
Aemond joins you as you sit back on the blanket, the spider no longer disturbing your peace. Jaehaera dotes on him, she loves her uncle dearly you can tell. You return Maelor to the bassinet as his eyelids begin to droop, rocking it side to side with your hand as he begins to drift off to sleep.Â
Jaehaera places a saucer on Helaenaâs stomach before balancing a teacup on top of it. Helaena barely raises a brow as Jaehaera wedges a lemon cake onto the plate as well. Though she doesnât thank her daughter, she brings a hand to the corner of the cake, tearing off a piece and placing it in her mouth.
Aemond sits straight up, balancing a teacup on his knee as Jaehaera stands behind him, combing her fingers through his long, platinum hair and twisting small braids throughout. You hadnât realized how long he kept it, itâs usually in a bun when you see him, but now silver waves cascade down his shoulders to the middle of his back.
âWe should head inside,â Aemond mutters, âThe clouds are gathering.â
âA storm is coming tomorrow,â Helaena murmurs.
âHowâd you know?â you ask and Helaenaâs mouth ticks upwards. All Targaryens seem to have the same smirk.
âShe always knows,â Aemond says, smiling softly as his elder sister.
In sleep, someone speaks to you. Whispers in your ear, breath hot like flames licking against your flesh words you do not understand.Â
A scream pierces through the night and you awake with a start. An ache begins behind your eyes and you press the heel of your palm against your forehead. You catch your bearing, sitting up and blinking as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Realization washes over you.
Helaena.
Sheâd been taking a second dose of her sleeping medication ever since Aemond spoke with her psychiatrist. Had she missed a dose this evening? You quickly rise from your bed, not bothering to grab your robe and flinging open your door.Â
The hallway is dark, and no moonlight spilling through the windows tonight. You reach out, holding onto the wall as a guide as you move further down the hallway.Â
A shuffling noise behind you makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Your breath hitches and you turn around, staring into the dark behind you. You canât see anything, just pitch black. You shouldâve left a light on in your room, something to anchor you. Your hands begin to tingle as adrenaline speeds the beating of your heart.Â
Thereâs nothing but darkness, you assure yourself, the dark canât hurt you.
But you canât shake the feeling that as you look down the hallway, someoneâŠ.or somethingâŠis looking back.
You release a shaky breath, turning back around. Something moves toward you, this time youâre certain. And suddenly a hand covers your mouth blocking the scream that rises in your throat and slamming you into the wall. It's not too hard, just enough for your shoulder blades to make a solid thump against the wood.Â
Aemond catches your fist in his opposite hand as you attempt to strike him, pushing your wrist back against the wall above your head. Your eyes widen when you realize it's him, cheeks blazing with rage and embarrassment, your body sagging with relief.Â
His hand remains on your mouth, though for a moment youâre sure itâs your scream tearing through the halls. Your stomach drops at the agonized wail and you squeeze your eyes shut. Aemondâs hand slides down until your chin rests in the space between his thumb and forefinger. His fingers are pressed so tightly against your throat youâre sure he must be able to feel your fluttering pulse.Â
âHela--,â you begin to speak but are cut off by the return of his hand over your mouth.Â
âShhh,â Aemond insists, as your eyebrows crease with confusion.
You mumble incoherently against his palm, lips pressing against the calloused flesh. Aemond presses closer, his tall slender frame towering over you. You cease trying to talk, your thoughts muddled as the warmth of his body presses against you. Aemond dips his head so his lips rest against the shell of your ear.Â
âThatâs not Helaena.â
It would be intimate, sensual even, if it werenât for the words he spoke in that low whisper. A feeling of dread washes over you like a bucket of ice water.Â
âShh,â he says once more, his lips grazing your ear, âClose your eyes. Stay very, very still.â
You donât dare move, you donât dare speak; you simply do as youâre told, squeezing your eyes shut. Trembling against him your fingers dig into his arm while the other remains trapped in his grasp over your head. Fear burns in your belly, so hot it's as though someone is stoking a fire right in front of you.
Aemond presses closer, your breasts press against the hard planes of his chest, nipples hardening at the stimulation through the thin material of your tank top. Youâd be embarrassed if you werenât so frightened. Your heart is beating like a rabbitâs foot, and you try to listen to the sound of Aemondâs breathing in your ear as some way of grounding yourself.Â
A groan echoes from down the hall.Â
Your grip on him tightens.
âItâs alright,â Aemond murmurs, his voice barely audible, âWeâll just let them pass.â
Your breathing stops.
Let them? Let what? Let who?
The heat intensifies around you, colors bursting behind your eyelids as though someone is shining a light on the pair of you, though you donât dare open your eyes. You cling to Aemondâs command like a life raft despite your morbid curiosity.Â
You donât know how long you stay like that before the light begins to fade, the warmth leached from your skin as whatever passed you moved on. The hall is silent, your ears are ringing and all you can hear is each shaky inhalation of your breath. Itâs not enough. It feels like all the air has been sucked from the hall like youâll never breathe again.
âY/N.â
What was that?
âOpen your eyes.â
His voice. Aemondâs voice. The only thing that makes sense.
You open your eyes.
The hall is dark and you blink, adjusting. Aemond releases your hand and your arm falls, slightly sore and tingling with pins and needles from being held above your head for so long. He uncovers your mouth as well, taking a step back.
âAre you alright?â he asks, the concern evident in his voice.Â
You donât answer, frozen. Aemond cups both of your cheeks in his hands, thumbs smoothing away tears that fall. You hadnât realized youâd been crying. Aemondâs brows knit together and you bring your hands to his wrists.Â
âWhat was that?â you whisper, voice hoarse.
Aemondâs expression is pained.Â
âThere are things I havenât told you about Harrenhal,â he says softly, releasing your face.
âWhat kind of things?â
âUnpleasant ones,â he continues.
You hold his gaze. If there was ever a chance to run from the manor screaming, this was it. Aemond watches you as though he expects you to run, his hands clenched into fists at his side. You know him already, know that if you chose to leave he wouldnât follow you. Heâs used to doing things on his own. Itâs all heâs ever known.
Itâs your choice.
Aemond lifts his eyes to meet yours as you reach for his hand. His fingers release automatically at your touch and you weave them through your own, holding tightly, anchoring yourself to him.
âLetâs get some tea then,â you tell him, âI want to know everything.â
note: hope you enjoyed this chapter! as always, comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but never expected (though you will receive a forehead kiss from me if you do any of them).
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