how would the cameron family react to rafe dating a pogue
found a girl my parents love - r.c
pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)
Ps: ward's not a monster in this, just an asshole sometimes, bc my boy rafe deserves a better father figure. also, didn’t know if this request was for this couple but i felt like it fitted them perfectly so here we are again 🫶🏻🤗
Rafe selfishly wanted to keep you a secret for as long as he could.
Not because he was ashamed of you—not even close. You were his, the only person who actually got him. That part of him he never let anyone see, not his family, not his boys.
It was complicated, though, and his family didn't do "complicated" well. Especially not with a pogue. His dad would flip if he knew he was dating someone he hadn’t been personally introduced to before.
The bartender from the club, of all people. The one they’d see serving drinks to them all summer, like you didn’t exist outside those moments. That was the thing though, you did exist, more than anyone he’d ever known. You were real. That’s why he wanted to keep it just for himself. It was his one thing that no one else could touch, could ruin. Topper knew, sure, but he wasn’t going to run his mouth to Sarah after she broke his heart.
So yeah, he held on to it, kept you away from the world that would tear it down before it even had a chance to really breathe. Until Weezie stumbled into your date at the ice cream shop.
He remembered the way his heart stopped when he saw her walk in. Of all places. Of all the people. She looked at him with wide brown eyes, then at you, and then back to him like she’d just walked in on something she wasn’t supposed to see.
And honestly? She did.
“What the hell are you doing here, Weeze?” he snapped, more out of panic than anger.
"Uh? Getting ice cream?" Her face lit up, a huge grin stretching across her cheeks. “What are you doing here? And with her?” She looked at you, her excitement bubbling over before Rafe could get a word in. “Oh my God, this is so cool! You’re dating her? Like, for real?”
You smiled awkwardly, sensing the tension rolling off him. He looked like he was seconds away from shitting himself. He could’ve killed Weezie right then and there. But instead, he just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well… don’t tell anyone, alright?”
“Are you kidding?” Weezie practically bounced. “I won’t say a word. Scout’s honor.” She shot you a smile before turning to leave. “But like, this is so cool.”
He scowled at her, “Stop being creepy.”
You slapped his chest, scolding him “Be nice.”
“Oh, I like her!”
She kept her word. For a little while, at least.
A few weeks later, they were all sitting around the dinner table—Ward, Sarah, Rafe, and Weezie. Rose was out doing whatever the fuck she did with her friends. Everything was going fine until Weezie, mid-conversation about nothing important, let it slip.
“I saw Rafe and his girlfriend the other day,” she said, just like it was no big deal.
Girlfriend.
Rafe froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Sarah looked like she’d just been smacked in the face.
“Girlfriend?” Sarah’s voice went up an octave. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”
He shot Weezie a look that could shove her ten feet under, but it was too late. She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake.
Ward raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “You got something to share with the family, son?”
Rafe cleared his throat, putting his fork down, already working up a sweat. He knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. And honestly?
Maybe it was time to stop hiding. He glanced at Sarah, who still looked at him like he was from outer space, then at his dad. He’d always given him shit about girls, all these big speeches about how none of them were ever worth bringing home unless he was serious.
Well, he was serious.
“Yeah,” Rafe muttered, meeting his dad’s eyes. “I’ve been seeing someone.”
Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Who?”
“She’s a pogue!”
Rafe closed his eyes, sighing as Weezie blurted the most important piece of information out. She really just dropped the biggest bomb in the most casual way possible. His dad’s expression didn’t change much, but Sarah? She was fully in shock, her jaw practically hitting the table.
“A Pogue?” Sarah repeated, like she couldn’t believe the words even existed in the same sentence as Rafe. “Are you serious? In this lifetime?”
He shot her a glare. “Yeah, a Pogue. What, is that some kind of crime?”
“What?” She shrieked, “You gave me so much shit when I dated John B!”
He clenched his jaw, his patience hanging by a thread. Of course she was going to bring up John B. She couldn’t let anything go. “That was different,” he snapped.
Sarah scoffed, folding her arms “Different? How exactly?”
Rafe rolled his eyes. “Because John B’s a dirtbag who had you sneaking around doing God knows what. This is—” he stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “This is different, okay? She’s not like him.”
“So, it’s okay when you date a Pogue? Got it.”
“To be fair,” Weezie chimed in, “John B smelled like shit.”
He couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips, even though the last thing he wanted to do was encourage her. Sarah shot Weezie a death glare, clearly not amused.
“Language,” Ward warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you girls? No swearing at the table.”
The room fell silent, everyone looking at Rafe like they were waiting for him to say something. His dad didn’t even look mad—if anything, he looked weirdly intrigued.
“So,” Ward said slowly, his gaze locking onto Rafe’s. “You’re serious about her then? Serious enough for me to meet her?”
Rafe swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”
“Alright. Let’s make that happen then.”
He blinked, completely thrown off. “What?”
Ward’s response was calm, almost too calm. “If you’re serious about this girl, then it’s time I meet her.”
Rafe just stared at him, unsure if he’d heard that right. His dad wasn’t angry? Was he impressed? Or was this some kind of setup?
“You... wanna meet her?” he repeated, like he needed the words to make sense.
His dad’s expression wasn’t the usual stone wall of judgment. “I’ve always said if it’s not serious, don’t bother bringing her around. You’re saying she’s important to you, right?”
“Uh, yeah…” Rafe’s voice trailed off, still half-expecting this to somehow turn into a lecture or some Ward Cameron test. “She is.”
He nodded, like he was already planning it. “Alright then, set it up. I’ll meet her.”
He couldn’t tell if this was a win or if he’d just walked into something he wasn’t prepared for. His whole plan was to avoid this exact conversation. He looked across the table, expecting Sarah to be just as blindsided as he was, but she was still stuck on one detail.
“You’re dating a Pogue,” she muttered, shaking her head like she couldn’t get past that fact. “I just… wow.”
Rafe shot her a glare. “Get over it.”
Weezie, always the little instigator, grinned. “She was cool.”
“Okay, so… when do I get to meet her?” Sarah’s brown eyes widened with curiosity. “Is she cute? What’s she like?”
This wasn’t how he thought the night was going to go at all.
An hour later, he was lying in bed, staring at his phone, his mind still spinning from dinner. He pulled up your contact, hesitating for a second before hitting the FaceTime button. The screen flashed for a moment, and then there you were, all cozy in your own bed, unaware of what was about to hit.
“Hi baby,” you chirped, clearly happy to see him, “What’s up? You look stressed.”
Rafe rubbed his face, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, well, uh—something happened at dinner tonight.”
Your face scrunched up in confusion, tilting the phone closer to you. “What? Did Sarah say something dumb again?”
“Nah, worse,” he muttered. “Weezie... Weezie kinda let it slip. About us.”
Your eyes widened immediately. “Wait, what? She told them?!”
“Yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle at the memory of the whole dinner spiraling out of control. “Just dropped it casually like it was no big deal. Sarah freaked out, and my dad—" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “He wants to meet you.”
For a second, you didn’t say anything. You just blinked, processing his words.
“Wait... Ward Cameron wants to meet me? As in, your dad?”
“Yeah,” He mumbled, almost sheepishly. “He’s all, ‘If you’re serious, I should meet her,’ or some shit. Like it’s no big deal.”
You sat up straight, your heart racing. “Rafe, that is a big deal! What the hell do you mean he wants to meet me?!” Your voice rose, panic starting to take over. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think about having to meet your dad. I figured we’d just— I don’t know—figure it out later!”
Rafe winced, knowing this would freak you out. He tried to keep his voice calm, even though he wasn’t exactly calm himself. “Baby, it’s not like tomorrow or anything. We can plan it out.”
But you were already spiraling. “Your dad’s gonna take one look at me— What if he hates me? What if he tells you I’m not worth it, and then—” you paused, your voice breaking slightly, “What if you start to believe him?”
His stomach clenched at your words. He sat up, the phone now held closer to his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. What are you even talking about?”
You bit your lip, your thoughts running wild. “I mean... what if he convinces you that I’m not good enough? What if you start seeing me differently? You know how your dad is—he could talk you out of this, talk you out of us.”
Rafe shook his head, almost angry that you’d even think that way. “Are you serious right now? No way in hell is that happening. I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks. You’re the one I’m with because I want to be with you.”
You sighed, your nerves still rattled. “But what if he tries to get in your head? You always talk about how much pressure he puts on you. What if he—”
He cut you off, his voice firm, assertive. “Look, I’m serious about you. I told him that tonight. It doesn’t matter what he says, because you’re the one I love. No one’s changing my mind about that. Not even Ward fucking Cameron.” His eyes softened a little. “I already met your sister. This is just the next step, yeah? It’s us. We’re solid.”
“I think I’m gonna throw up.”
He hated this—hated that the idea of meeting his dad was making you feel like this, but he couldn’t blame you. Ward was intimidating even on his best days, and this was not going to be one of those days.
“You’re not gonna throw up,” he said, trying to calm you down, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.
You shook your head, running a hand through your bed hair. “What if I say something dumb? What if I screw up, and he hates me, and then everything goes downhill? I’m not, like... your people. You know that.”
His jaw clenched, hating the way you thought of yourself like that. “Don’t say that,” he scolded, “You’re exactly my people. You’re my person.”
“Yeah, but—”
“No ‘buts.’” He cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me. My dad’s opinion doesn’t change anything. He’s not gonna make me see you any differently. You’re still gonna be the same girl I’m crazy about, no matter what he says or doesn’t say. Got it?”
You took a deep breath, trying to believe him. “It’s just—I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t fit into that world, and what if he sees that right away?”
He hated that you felt this way, hated that his dad had this kind of power hanging over the two of you. “You don’t need to fit into his world, okay? You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters.”
Your lips quivered, and for a second, he thought you might start crying. He could feel the panic rolling off of you through the phone, and it hit him hard—he hadn’t realized just how terrified you were of this.
“What if he really doesn’t think I’m good enough for you?” You whispered, almost like you were scared to say it out loud.
Rafe’s heart clenched, and without thinking, he shot up out of bed, pacing his room like he needed to burn off the frustration
“You’re more than good enough for me.”
Your breath hitched, and you looked away for a second like you were trying to compose yourself.
“I just don’t want him to—I don’t know? To make you feel like you have to choose between me and your family.”
He stopped pacing, his grip tightening on the phone. “If it ever came to that? I’d choose you. Every fucking time.”
You blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Rafe—”
“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off again. “I’m not letting my dad, or anyone else, get in the way. I don’t care if he’s Ward Cameron or the president of the United States. He’s not gonna run my life, and he sure as hell isn’t gonna ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you. And nothing my dad says or thinks is gonna change that. Ever.”
Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall over. Not because you were scared anymore, but because of him. Because of how much he cared. How much he loved you, even when you were spiraling.
He was staring at the screen, concern written all over his face, brows furrowing, "Wait, are you crying?" His voice softened, like he wasn’t sure how to handle you like this, but he knew he wanted to. He needed to.
You quickly rubbed at your eyes, laughing to try and cover up the tears, "No, no, I just— got something in my eye." Your laugh was shaky, and you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.
He didn’t say anything for a second, just watched you with that loving look of his that made you want to bawl your eyes out even harder. He saw right through you. He always did.
“You know,” he finally said, “You don’t have to worry about all that shit. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”
And that’s when you almost lost it. Because wow. No one had ever said something like that to you before, not until him. Never like that, like he really meant it, like you were the most important thing in his world.
You sniffed, trying to laugh it off again, but it just came out all soft and broken. “I’m just—” you paused, not even sure how to explain how you were feeling, “I’m not used to this. Like, you... caring this much. Loving me like this.”
Rafe’s eyes softened, and he leaned a little closer to the screen, “I’m not stopping.”
“I know. I love you too.”
It was real now.
Meeting the Camerons wasn’t something you could avoid anymore, but at least you knew you had Rafe, a hundred percent.
“You still freaking out?” he asked, though his tone was lighter, like he knew the answer.
“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’ll get over it.”
“Good,” he said, his smirk returning. “Because I kinda need you around.”
“Kinda?”
He grinned, dimples framing his face, “Okay, a lot.”
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Rafe hadn’t said a word the entire drive, which was already freaking you out more than you wanted to admit. His knuckles were white, tight around the steering wheel. His jaw was locked, teeth grinding together and you’d caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye at least three times in the past minute.
Your heart was hammering, stomach in knots, and you were starting to wonder if you might actually throw up by the time you got to Tannyhill.
“Baby, seriously, if we crash into a tree ‘cause you’re having a silent meltdown over there, that’s not gonna help either of us.”
He blinked, finally loosening his grip on the wheel. “Sorry. I’m just—fuck, I don’t know.”
You tried to smile, but it felt weak. “Yeah, me too. I feel like I’m walking into some kind of corporate job interview I didn’t apply for.”
Rafe snorted. “Yeah, except the CEO’s a control freak and the company’s, I don’t know, cursed or something.”
That made you laugh, a short, nervous laugh, but still. You appreciated the attempt at humor, even if the nerves in your stomach weren’t going anywhere.
“So, uh... game plan?” you asked, half-joking, but mostly serious. “Am I supposed to shake his hand? Call him Mr. Cameron? Or is it more of a ‘hey, what’s up, Ward?’ situation?”
Rafe finally cracked a grin, shaking his head. “God, I don’t know. Don’t call him Ward; that might send him into some power trip. But definitely don’t call him Mr. Cameron either, ‘cause that’ll just make it weird.”
“Great, so I’ll just go with ‘Hi’ and hope I don’t trip over my own feet.”
“Perfect,” Rafe deadpanned, glancing over at you, “Just be yourself. He’s not as bad as you think. Mostly.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Mostly?”
Rafe’s lips pressed together. "He's not gonna throw you out or anything. And if he does, we’re leaving together. But Sarah...”
“Sarah,” you groaned, leaning your head back against the seat. You’d barely met Sarah, and from what you could tell, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about Rafe’s choice in girlfriends.
“Just don’t let her get to you,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s just mad because I used to make John B’s life a living hell.”
“Define hell.”
Rafe smirked, his fingers still interlaced with yours. "I mean, I threw him off a boat once," he said casually, like that wasn’t one of the most insane things you’d ever heard.
You blinked. “You what?”
He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, like it was no big deal. “He was running his mouth about me."
You stared at him in disbelief, “And you think I’m the one who needs to be worried?”
He laughed, finally loosening up a little, “Relax, baby. I’m not throwing you off anything.”
“So she’s not mad about me? She’s just mad about the double standard?”
“Yeah.”
That made it a little easier to breathe.
The silence settled back in for a moment as you pulled up to Tannyhill. The sight of the massive estate took your breath away. You couldn’t help but feel like you were entering a completely different world now that you were here—a world that wasn’t exactly built for you.
Rafe must’ve noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of your seat a little tighter because he let out a long breath.
“Hey, it’s just a dinner. We eat, we talk, we leave. It’s not like they’re gonna put you under a microscope.”
You gave him a side-eye. “You know, I wasn’t nervous until you said that.”
He grinned sheepishly. “Shit. Sorry.”
The car came to a stop, and you could see the flicker of lights through the windows of the house. The pressure in your chest was building, but Rafe turned toward you, his hand cupping your face.
“Listen,” his blue eyes locked on yours, “I don’t care what happens in there. You’ve got me. If anyone makes you feel like you don’t belong, we’re out. Promise.”
You swallowed hard, nodding as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”
“I’m serious,” he continued, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “One word and I’ll get you out.”
You kissed his palm, “I know.”
“Okay.” he muttered, then pulled away, giving one final deep breath before turning off the ignition. “Let’s get this over with.”
You both stepped out of the car, Rafe knocked once, and within seconds, it swung open to reveal Sarah standing there in all her kook-with-pogue -tendencies glory.
“Well, well,” she smirked, eyes narrowing at you two.
Rafe shot her a sharp look, “Knock it off.”
She rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let you in. “I’m kidding. Kinda.” She turned her attention to you, and you could feel her sizing you up, looking completely unfazed as she led the two of you further into the house. "Dad’s in the study. He’s waiting."
Your heart skipped a beat at that. Waiting? What did that even mean?
Rafe must have felt your nerves spike because he reached for your hand again, squeezing it as you followed Sarah down the long hallway.
The house felt even bigger on the inside, with its high ceilings and fancy decor. You felt out of place. But then you peeked over at Rafe, and something about the way he held your hand made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you did belong.
At least to him.
Sarah finally stopped outside a large wooden door, turning to you with an exaggerated sigh.
"Good luck.”
Rafe hesitated for a second, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "You ready?"
No. Absolutely not. But you nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let’s do this."
He pushed open the door, and there he was.
Ward Cameron, sitting behind a massive oak desk, looking as powerful and intimidating as ever. His eyes flicked up from whatever paperwork he was working on, settling on you with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Rafe," Ward said, his voice smooth and controlled, before turning his gaze to you. "And you must be... her."
You swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. "Yeah, that’s me. Hi, Mr. Cameron."
You immediately regretted it. Mr. Cameron? It sounded too formal, too awkward.
Ward didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he looked amused. He stood up, coming around the desk to get a better look at you. His eyes scanned over you briefly, but it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look you’d expected. Instead, it felt more like... curiosity.
"So, you’re the girl my son’s been so serious about."
You nodded, wanting to be anywhere but stuck in that claustrophobic room despite its size, "That’s me.”
He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked between you and Rafe, “I hear you’re working at the Country Club.”
It wasn’t really a question—more like he already knew everything about you. Oh. You didn’t like that, knowing that someone else was snooping around for dirt on you. At least it sounded like that was the plan.
You managed a nod, trying to keep your voice from sounding too hushed. “Yeah, I’ve been working there for a while.”
His expression didn’t really give anything away, but the way he looked at you, was unnerving. Rafe’s hand squeezed yours, reminding you that, no matter what, he had your back. One word and you were out.
“Good,” Ward finally said, “I like that you work.” He sneaked a stern look at your boyfriend before turning his attention back to you. “He could use some of that drive.”
Wait. What?
You hadn’t expected that. You thought maybe he’d grill you or give you the whole ‘what are your intentions with my son’routine. But no, he was... complimenting you? It had to be some kind of set up.
“Dad—” Rafe started, clearly not expecting that either, but Ward cut him off with a raised hand.
“No, seriously.” His eyes were back on you, and there was almost a smile there, like he was actually impressed. “It’s a good quality. I respect people who work hard, people who don’t just expect things to be handed to them. And from what I’ve heard, you’re one of those people.”
You didn’t even know what to say.
Ward Cameron? Complimenting you? Was this real life? You’d walked in here prepared for a full-on interrogation, and instead, he was... encouraging.
“I just hope some of that rubs off on my son,” Ward added, shooting Rafe a look, and you swore there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “He could stand to work a little harder. He’s always been a bit lazy.”
You bit back a laugh, glancing over at Rafe. He was glaring at his dad, but you could tell he wasn’t really pissed, just...embarrassed. You found it endearing.
“Thanks, Dad,” Rafe mumbled.
“I like it. Maybe you’ll inspire him to work a little harder.”
You blinked. Wait, was this actually happening? Did Ward Cameron, of all people, just say he liked you? This whole night felt like it was gonna be a disaster, and now... maybe it wasn’t gonna be so bad. You hoped so.
You really wanted his family to like you, you felt like you owned him at least trying.
“You know," Ward began, "I wasn't always the man you see standing here today." His voice took on a reflective tone, and you could sense the change in the atmosphere as he prepared to tell his story. "I grew up on the Cut, just like a lot of those kids you see around he, like you,” Ward said, almost casually, but you could tell it wasn’t a casual thing for him. "Back then, I didn’t have much. But I worked my ass off to get out of that place. I didn’t have a name, no wealth behind me. What I have now? I built that from the ground up. No one handed me anything."
Rafe, who had been quiet up until now, let out a small, barely audible sigh, shifting uncomfortably beside you. You took a quick glance at him and caught the unmistakable eye-roll he tried to hide.
Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Ward had given this speech. But at the same time, you could tell he was relieved that his dad wasn’t tearing into you. That had to count for something, right?
Ward, oblivious or perhaps just unfazed by his son’s reaction, continued, his voice gaining momentum like he was giving you some kind of motivational speech. "It wasn’t easy. There were plenty of times when I could’ve given up, but I didn’t. I pushed through, made connections, took risks. That’s how you get ahead. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes. Now look where I am—" He gestured around at the lavish room, the estate itself practically a testament to his success. "I built an empire. Something real. Something that can last."
You nodded politely, unsure if you were supposed to say something. Rafe’s obvious eye-rolling and silent huffs of frustration beside you made it clear that he’d heard all this a hundred times before. He shifted in his seat, crossing his arms, clearly waiting for his dad to wrap it up.
But Ward wasn’t done yet. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The point is," he said, his tone softening a little, "I respect people who are willing to work for what they want. I see that in you. It’s not about where you start—it’s about where you’re going."
Rafe let out a short, quiet breath that you might’ve missed if you weren’t sitting right next to him. He shot you a small, knowing smile, almost like he was apologizing for the speech but also relieved that Ward wasn’t being an asshole.
You squeezed his hand under the table. At least his dad wasn’t tearing you down.
"Thanks, Mr. Cameron," you said, finally finding your voice. "I really appreciate that."
He nodded, seeming satisfied with himself. "Just remember," he added, his voice lowering as if he was giving you some kind of life lesson, "Hard work pays off. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll get somewhere. Don’t ever settle, not even for him.”
“Thanks again.”
Rafe looked like he was about to explode from how much he was holding back, but he just gave you a quick wink as if to say, Yeah, this is typical dad, but hey—he likes you, so we’re good.
Ward clapped his hands together, the moment of sincerity quickly passing. "Alright, well, I think dinner’s ready. Shall we?"
He strode ahead, leading the way out of the study and toward the dining room, leaving you and Rafe a few steps behind. The moment he was out of earshot, you looked up at Rave, “You think we’re good?”
He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes, his tone all teasing. “Baby, I think he might build you a pedestal.”
You couldn’t help but snort, trying to keep your voice down as you followed Ward. “Really? After that ‘self-made empire’ speech?”
He rolled his eyes dramatically, giving you a knowing look. “Trust me, if you got through that and he didn’t start questioning your entire existence, you’re golden. The man sees himself in anyone who works hard enough to breathe without permission.”
You bit back a laugh, gripping his hand as you walked down the long hallway. “Yeah, I was getting that vibe.”
His grin grew wider, his thumb skimming over your knuckles. “And look, usually, it’s a full-blown interrogation by now. You’re good.”
You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised. “Really?”
Rafe nodded. “Oh yeah. Sarah’s brought home guys before and it was... rough.” He shook his head, “He actually likes you. That’s rare.”
Maybe things with the Camerons were actually going to be okay.
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Cruel Summer (03/10)
Against the Tide
pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader
summary: at Crown's family tensions rise and you keep running into a person you shouldn't talk to. but both he and you can't help testing the waters.
words: 9.3k
thank you to @peachysunrize for being my beta reader, she also helped me in the previous chapter and I forgot to mention her, but finally here she is. love you bestie!❤
previous part • series masterlist
I am so excited for you to read this chapter! from the next chapters onwards, what we have been waiting for begins (forbidden love)🤭 and I want to thank you once again for all the support you are giving to the story, you guys are amazing and you don't know how much I appreciate it🙏🏻 now enjoy!
warnings: half smut, language.
Sunset's Pier stretches along the boardwalk, a vibrant and lively place, especially on summer evenings.
In the distance, waves break gently against the pier and shore pillars, while palm trees sway in the cool ocean breeze.
Wooden planks creak under the feet of visitors, while the smell of the sea and freshly made food fills the air.
The stores lining the pier are clearly divided, some full of luxury, with glittering windows displaying designer dresses and accessories. And there are other more modest stores, where prices are more affordable.
Or as it would be technically said among the locals of Sunset's: stores for the rich and stores for the poor.
After an exhausting afternoon trying to surf with the boys, Alysanne drags you into the stores, excited to find something nice for tonight's party.
The two of you walk between shop windows, exploring the options, especially in the stores where you can both afford to shop. But Alysanne stops in front of one of the more expensive stores.
You watch as she gawks at a blue bikini on display on the mannequin, the color as deep as the ocean at sunset.
"Look at this!" she exclaims excitedly, almost pressing her face against the glass, "It would be perfect for tonight's party. If only I had the money to buy it," she murmurs between excited and disappointed.
You smile, understanding the desire. The bikini is really beautiful but it is obvious that the price must be very high.
"Don't you have any savings?" you ask her.
"No," she laments, "I used it to fix my phone, did you forget? I can't afford to buy a new one so I have to fix the one I already have."
"Well, I guess I—
A high-pitched laugh interrupts the conversation and when you both turn around, you instantly recognize the people.
Perfectly coiffed black hair and shiny red hair. All those impeccably dressed girls, with expensive handbags, gold accessories and designer sunglasses; Baratheon and Lannister.
But you distinguish precisely Floris Baratheon, Aemond's girlfriend.
All of them in a group watch you both with a mocking face for two things; for being in front of a store like this and for being longing for the beautiful blue bikini.
And even though they don't know you, it doesn't matter that they bother you for the radar of recognizing poor people, because the difference between you and Alysanne is too big compared to them, who can afford to shop here.
Especially since the top you are wearing at the moment is torn on one side. You don't see much but they've already seen it, as well as inspecting your dirty, old tennis shoes.
"Do you really think you can buy anything here?" speaks precisely Floris with a venomous tone, with a sneer as he looks at the bikini and then at both of you, "It's a shame you can only look. Not everyone has the privilege of affording something so nice."
"Yeah, maybe someday you can get it... in the next millennium sales."
They laugh among themselves, clearly enjoying the moment of superiority. And you clench your jaw, annoyed, especially as you watch Alysanne lower her gaze in humiliation.
"Excuse me, do we know you?" you inquire.
You obviously know them, but you won't indulge them.
"Oh dear, everyone here knows us, especially me," Floris says superiorly, adjusting her sunglasses.
"Even your kind know who we are," Cerelle also speaks with clear contempt.
Alysanne regains her composure and you instantly notice.
"Yes, we know you are such a bunch of idiotic, shallow people for thinking that the price of clothing defines someone."
"Some of us have more important things in life than spending money on something so insignificant," you too stand up for yourself and your people.
They all let out a laugh, where Floris takes a step toward you.
“Yeah, sure. The poor always find an excuse to justify their misery. How pathetic and sad," she feigns an exaggerated pout.
"I'd rather be poor than be as empty as you," Alysanne next to you snaps at her.
She arches an eyebrow at her, amused and clearly entertained, as she folds her arms in her arrogant attitude.
"Empty, huh? Well, it's better to be empty than desperate, like you two. Keep dreaming of things you can never have. But don't worry, being poor and living on the filthy side of town, dreaming is free."
"And who do you think you are huh?" Alysanne lunges at her, "You think because you are rich I can't break your face or what?"
You quickly stop her holding her by the arm, worried and of course, Floris recoils back with a frightened face and her friends don't take long to instantly surround her, shielding her as if they were her wall of protection.
"Not so talkative and brave now huh!?"
"Hey, Aly," you hold her back, "Stop it. It's not worth it."
Floris and all of them look at you both with despise.
"See? They're all savages," she says without again getting too close.
"Oh yes, very savage, just because we're defending ourselves from you making fun of us and making us less," Alysanne tells her firmly and in a defiant tone, "But you can't even defend yourself. So I advise you to talk less or I'll break that pretty rich girl face of yours."
It is clear that Floris wants to say more mean words, but she stops when she notices someone else walking towards the group, completely oblivious to the situation and you also recognize this person; Helaena Targaryen.
She with her usual calm, appears near you, but stops just in front of another nearby store, casually observing a clothing through the glass without noticing the tensions.
And you curiously notice how Floris, upon seeing her, remains silent for a moment. Then you guess that she doesn't want to show her true colors in front of her sister-in-law.
"Let's go," she orders in a lower and less confident tone than before.
Her friends obey without another word and begin to walk away, but not before giving your cousin a last contemptuous and disdainful glance at your side.
And you too, of course.
Helaena also leaves with them as they approach her, her silver hair shining in the sunlight and moving with impeccable grace.
Alysanne lets out a frustrated sigh next to you, still angry.
"I can't believe those idiots think they have the right to treat us like this. And all because of what? For not being rich like them?" she inquires in disbelief, "Do you realize how stupid that is?"
"Let them stay in their bubble," you mutter, feeling just as irritated, "We're not rich but we're better people than they are."
Alysanne takes a deep breath, shaking off the adrenaline of the moment, then you both go your own way, trying not to let this thing that happened ruin your day.
Especially since you have another party tonight, unfortunately with those girls, but it's not like you're going to be with them.
And just as ten o'clock at night falls, Cregan's car and the excited shouts of the guys rushing you to get into the car can be heard practically all over the street.
Alysanne again shushes them, as your uncle and aunt are asleep, as well as most likely the neighbors, and you both quickly get into the car amidst laughter and scolding of the guys.
Then Cregan's car speeds up and soon all of you are walking into the Crown's side.
The party is as always; on the beach. And it's everything you'd expect being among the rich. The DJ can't miss, the clean beach, the pier, the yachts and the smell of alcohol mixed with the sea breeze, among other substances.
Tonight you decide not to focus on the people around you and together with the guys, sit on the white sand, while Cregan and Sam go for as many beers and bottles of champagne as possible.
Alysanne is also not in the mood to be inspecting and lusting after Pandora accessories on all the rich girls that are here. So the two of you relax.
Chase lights the bonfire in the center and pretty soon everyone is drinking, talking and laughing, enjoying the party and nothing else.
Every now and then some guys come up to greet Cregan, who greets them back without much enthusiasm and returns to the group, where you notice how attentive he is especially to Alysanne.
You don't say anything and just continue drinking, laughing at the guys' jokes and burning a few marshmallows, when then... you feel it.
A piercing look on your face.
You don't doubt it's a girl inspecting you, so you don't think anything of it at first. But then... it's as if that look burns you and wants to see through you, sending shivers through your whole body.
You look around, just out of curiosity, but when you raise your gaze absentmindedly towards the direction of the yachts, to the part of the deck specifically, your eyes meet piercing blue eyes.
Then you see him.
Aemond Targaryen.
Time seems to stand still and you feel more of the weight of his gaze, that same weight you felt last night on the pier, when he caught you.
You also feel a surge of nerves course through your body, with your heart racing as you remember the night before. It's not fear, but it's something close to it.
Because now he's caught you here too, at a party of his people, at Crown's.
And the weird thing is that you didn't expect it and you feel so silly about the fact. How could you not think that he would be here and that the two of you would probably see each other after last night?
Even though it's no longer a probability, he's seeing you right now and sees what you're doing; pretending to be one of them.
You watch as his gaze briefly sweeps over the guys you're with and honestly... you don't know how to feel about it. Technically, you're not doing anything wrong here either, are you?
‘Then why do you feel so embarrassed?’
His piercing eye again focuses on you and you, for some strange reason, don't look away and neither does he. It's as if the two of you are caught in a game you can't avoid.
No one seems to notice the silent exchange between the two of you, except you and him. But you know that talking to him, getting close to him in public, is impossible.
You know it and you know he knows it too. It's like a law in Sunset's among its locals but more specifically among those your age; the rich and the poor can't be friends.
You bite the inside of your cheek, even without both of you looking away, where both of you are too far away to say anything to each other, but the looks say it all.
Then, it is he who looks away when Floris holds his face and kisses him softly on the lips, claiming his attention. You feel a sting of something pinch your stomach and you force yourself to stop focusing on him as well.
You try to refocus on what the guys around you are saying, but you can't, not now that he's here too.
You didn't tell anyone about what happened last night with him on his pier, because nothing really bad happened, except the fact that you almost got caught.
It was just a conversation with the son of the richest man in the whole country and heir to his fortune, nothing more.
Although the memory has followed you ever since.
Unable to help yourself, you look at him again, where you see him surrounded by his friends and also distinguish his brother, Aegon. And of course, Floris, sitting on his lap.
He is no longer watching you but you wonder what he might be thinking now that he has seen you here too.
'Probably nothing.'
You think, since for him, what happened on the pier was just a conversation, a small slip in which you both sought some solace and nothing more, an insignificant moment.
What else could he think of having shared his time with a Black Waves girl?
You let out a long breath and your eyes roam his features, as the same thoughts from last night return to your mind when you were also slyly admiring him.
'He is so handsome.'
You think as you also admire his short silver hair and see a silver chain peeking out from between the collar part of his shirt, with that simple accessory making him look so ridiculously good.
But you cannot pass Floris Baratheon unnoticed, on his lap, talking to him and leaving from time to time some kisses on his lips or on his cheek.
You shake your head, clearly being impossible, since he belongs to a world that is not yours, to a social class that would see you as an intruder if you even tried to approach.
So you can only think that what happened on the pier was just a one-time thing, a quirk and a moment that you must now bury in oblivion.
Aemond Targaryen, as a child, does not remember a single moment when his family did not attract attention.
He does not remember a single moment where his mother did not ask him, as well as his siblings, to accompany her and his father to an event in the town for work and simply to see them all together as a perfect and powerful family.
He has forgotten the countless times where his father, Viserys, introduces him and his siblings to his associates and all those important people more as trophies than as what they really are; his children.
With Aegon the introduction is brief, for after all, no one expected his first eldest son not to follow in his same footsteps as his older first daughter did, Rhaenyra.
But Aemond knows that Aegon is... uncontrollable.
As a teenager he began to show signs that he didn't want to go into business or anything like it or anything relatively formal.
As much as his mother, Alicent, and even his own father and grandfather Otto tried to scold, persuade and convince him, it only caused Aegon to back away from the idea and start doing whatever he pleased.
For him only desire has always been to simply live life and find out what he really wants.
Then there is Helaena, who followed the same path as Aegon but in a more controlled way and with different aspirations to life though just as flattering, which is to study marine biology.
And finally there is him, Aemond Targaryen.
He saw the whole process of his older brothers in deciding not to devote himself to the business or rather empire that his father has built. With Aegon it all turned out to be a disaster but Helaena was more persuasive.
So someone had to do it, follow in his father's footsteps as Rhaenyra did, but this time a man, a son and that had to be him.
Daeron still lacked time to decide and grow up some more. So he watched as his father began to despair and have fights with his mother and everyone at home for not being able to choose the aspirations and decisions of his children.
So it was he who calmed the storm at home when he announced that he would apply to college to study business management to carry on the Targaryen legacy, just like Rhaenyra.
His father was overjoyed, as was his mother and for the first time, in that small moment, Aemond felt that he was finally receiving that recognition and appreciation from him.
But then he realized that it was never worth it.
After searching for so long for a way for his father to finally see him for what he is, his son, when that moment came it wasn't worth it and it didn't make him feel any better.
Because Aemond knows deep down that only his father was happy for him out of convenience, to mold him to how he wants and because that way, he is just another piece on his board.
And it became quite clear to him the moment his father expressed his idea about the Baratheon's.
Viserys, even with all he has and having an advisor at his side like his grandfather Otto, wants more.
And Borros Baratheon is that more by being the owner of the most important commercial fleet operating along the entire Pacific coast of all. Viserys needs to transport freight for its big company, which is what Borros does.
Viserys needs freight for his great enterprise, which is what Borros is all about. But Borros Baratheon is a difficult and greedy man who also wants more, even to Viserys Targaryen himself.
So he and his entire team focus on an easier target that will get him to the finish line; his daughter, Floris.
Any of his daughters would have sufficed, but considering Floris is about the same age as Aemond and his father had already seen her get her hopes up for him at events, it was the perfect idea.
At first Aemond refused. For the moment he had no intention with any girl, especially any of the Baratheon sister’s. But his father insisted.
Viserys explained to him how much he needed such a partnership and asked him to start asking her out to eventually formalize and make the deal with his father easier.
Aemond tried to help him find other alternatives, tried to make him understand that he didn't want nor could he play with Floris' feelings in that way to achieve a partnership.
But none of that helped.
His mother sided with his father, with the difference that she was more sensible on the subject and asked him to try and take the time to get to know her, that maybe he might really like her.
So he had to give in and before long, he was in a formal relationship with Floris Baratheon.
And now this is his life.
Not that much has changed, but there are these fights at home between her mother and father because there's really no love between them.
There's also fighting between his father and his siblings over the choice of what they really want to do with their lives while they're all attending events to pretend to be this perfect family that they are.
And he's in a relationship with a person he doesn't really want to be with and as soon as the summer is over, he's going off to college to study with pressure and expectations on his shoulders for a degree he doesn't really want to study.
But as anyone in Sunset's would think, both Crown's and Black Waves; the Targaryens are perfect.
“Hey.”
A voice pulls him out of his thoughts and he looks up as he sees Aegon approaching him, shorts on, sandals, a white t-shirt, sunglasses and phone in hand.
"I was looking all over for you. What are you doing?"
He lets out a long breath and closes his book to place it back on the shelf.
"What do you want?"
"Get dressed. We have a party tonight," he lets him know, then starts typing on his phone.
"Another one?" he asks with a serious look on his face.
"What?" he becomes indignant, shrugging, "Come on, it's summer. And everyone will be there. Cassandra told me Floris is going."
"I don't want to go."
He looks at him with a frown.
"What are you talking about?" he asks him blankly, "You're going to stay here reading these stupid books all summer? You're going to college for another two months!"
"Helaena and Daeron will go with you, I don't understand why you want me to go too," he tells him grumpily, choosing another of the many books in the library.
"Helaena is sick and Daeron promised to stay with her to watch movies," he tells him as if were the gravest sins in the world, "Come on, man. Come with me. And I won't ask you for anything again, this will be the last time, I promise."
"That's what you always say, like I don't know you," he says as he picks up a book and sets it on the table, "You're just so fucking annoying."
Aegon lets out a frustrated groan.
"Come on, don't be like that. You'll have more time to read and be doing these boring things you like to do," he tries to convince him, pointing to the books.
But Aemond says nothing to him and, of course, Aegon starts to throw his tantrum.
"Aemond," he complains, "Come on, please."
And the sound of his voice is already starting to annoy him, especially being in the library.
“Aegon—
"Come on," he interrupts him, insistent, "I really don't want to stay here and listen to dad yelling and fighting with mom all night, man."
Aemond lets out a long breath again and with nonchalant movements watches his brother over his shoulder, looking serious and now slowly becoming resigned.
And soon enough, they are both already in his car, driving towards the Lannister house.
Normally he wouldn't have agreed to come, but he recognizes that Aegon is right and the truth is that he doesn't want to stay at home listening to his parents' quarrels either.
Even though his house is huge, the shouting echoes through the halls, and then his father in all his anger goes against Aegon as well, where Helaena intervenes, then Daeron and finally him to try to calm the waters.
And he's tired of it.
Just last night another one of those fights happened, his mother was almost in tears and Helaena too, while Aegon and his father were shouting all the worst things possible at each other.
And that's why he decided to go to the pier after he failed to fall asleep.
As he drives, his gaze softens as he remembers you.
He still doesn't understand how a girl like you, from Black Waves, for a whole year was going to his family's pier at midnight without being discovered.
He doesn't understand how you did it either and he's not sure he wants to know. He was about to call security, of that he has no doubt, especially considering the robberies some of his neighbors suffered.
Because that's what he first thought, that you were a thief and he was trying to do something with his yacht.
However, it was something in your fear and pleading, perhaps also that you didn't have something suspicious on hand to try to do harm and the sincerity in your gaze after silently evaluate you that he saw to finally understand that you weren't doing anything wrong.
It was bad to cross over private property but other than that, he saw you earlier, before he approached from a distance, sitting on the edge of the pier looking out over the horizon.
But he still had to make sure and it all turned out very interesting.
That you were on his pier, risking that you could be caught, simply because that place gives you peace and quiet, caught his attention.
It seemed... unusual. Something out of the ordinary. Maybe because you're a Black Waves girl.
But still, it's something he's not used to hearing from others in appreciating something so simple and plain but so meaningful to that person.
And being there with you... everything in his mind disappeared.
All his excessive thoughts, frustrations, pressures, expectations and stress disappeared for a moment, which is very difficult for him to do in the midst of all the storm in his mind.
And strangely, because he shouldn't have, he spent a nice time with you, an unknown Black Waves girl, even if he didn't show it much at the time.
He doubts that was a good idea, to let you stay and still tell you that you can keep going to thepier. But technically... nothing bad happened.
And doubt that I'll ever see you again, last night was just a coincidence, besides that shouldn't happen, right?
In the town where you both live, a poor girl and a rich man can't even be friends. And much less he can afford something like that because of his family name.
Again his thoughts are interrupted as they enter the area where the Lannisters live and Aegon immediately chatter excitedly about how amazing the party looks.
And soon enough the two find themselves walking onto the beach and onto the Lannister dock.
It's the same as always, there's really nothing new, just decorations, DJ, open bar with bottles of vodka, wine and champagne as well as beer, cocktails and the smell of cigarettes and weed in the salty air.
All the people are dancing and getting drunk, as well as there are other people having mini bonfires, drinking and burning marshmallows.
When a group of people catches Aegon's eye on one of the yachts, he takes no time at all to drag him along with him.
And just like that he meets Floris, who greets him very happily with a hug and a kiss on his lips, which he tries to reciprocate as genuinely as possible.
Aegon goes off to find a girl to stick his tongue down her throat and he stays on the yacht with Floris and his friends.
Quickly some of his friends offer him drinks to cheer him up and he declines as he has to drive, so he only chooses to light a cigarette, wanting the night to pass quickly.
And so the hours pass, with nothing really interesting going on around him and Floris sitting on his lap, trying to keep up with her to also try to be a good boyfriend.
But all he wants to do is go home.
"Are you okay?"
Floris' voice brings him out of his thoughts and he turns his head towards her, where she watches him with a small smile on her lips and with one of her hands starting to stroke his short silver hair.
"Yeah," he tells her in a low murmur, then takes another sip from the only bottle of beer he'll be drinking tonight.
"Are you sure? I didn't even know you were coming. I texted you and you didn't respond," she says making a pout.
And he avoids looking instantly annoyed.
It's not that Floris is a bad girl, she really tries because she really loves him. But he doesn't feel the same and doubts he ever will, though he tries.
"Yeah, you're right, sorry, I was busy in the library," he explains briefly.
"At the library?" she repeats confused, "Why?"
"I'm getting a head start on reading books for college," he again explains as briefly as possible.
Luckily she doesn't say anything more on the subject but continues to sit on his lap and try to get him to talk, even though he's not really having any of that right now but he doesn't want to be rude to her either.
So when she starts talking to one of her friends, he looks in all directions, scanning the party without again finding anything interesting.
But then in the midst of analysis he sees it.
Or rather he sees you.
A few meters below him on the sand, confused, he immediately recognizes you, sitting among a group of guys and a girl with a bottle of beer in hand, laughing and talking to all of them.
And again he wonders; what are you doing here?
And you can't blame him, he really doesn't get it, it was surprising enough seeing you on his pier, in the most exclusive and private area of all Crown's as to also see you here, on the Lannister's pier, a Black Waves girl mixed up as if you were one of them.
He sweeps his gaze over all the guys you're with and is more surprised to see you talking and laughing with Cregan Stark.
Then he gets it all.
He's the one who gives you access, as well as your friends and that girl you're with, who he assumes must be your cousin from what you told him last night, all except Cregan belonging to Black Waves.
And there you are, again not hurting anybody, but pretending to belong to Crown's.
All the guys you're with are certainly having a great time and so are you, while he again focuses on Cregan, from whom he honestly expected it.
He doesn't include himself much with the guys from his part of town, sometimes he talks to him or Helaena, but nothing more. Now he knows why.
And somehow he can't take his eye off you.
He watches you curiously, analyzing you, seeing that you have guts, just like your cousin and your friends, to take risks like this.
At any moment anyone could expose you if they watch you too much, but you don't seem to care about that, nor do the others.
And then, his gaze meets yours.
He sees you freeze for a moment, as if you are once again trapped by him, which actually you are and he, for some reason, doesn't look away and neither do you.
Memories of last night invade him again and he can guess how you must be thinking about it too.
But he can also guess how you again feel exposed and how terribly nervous you must feel. As if you are afraid that he, now that he has seen you here too, will expose you once and for all.
But it is as if it were a game of stares, as neither of them look away from each other. It's not as if they can talk, the distance is too much, also considering that he is on top of a yacht.
But what if this were not the case? Would the two of you talk?
Aemond knows perfectly well that they wouldn't.
"Hey, did you hear what I said, babe?"
Floris makes him turn his gaze away from you to focus on her as he feels her turn from his cheek with her hand towards her to plant a soft kiss on his lips, wanting his full attention.
And he awkwardly reciprocates as his attention is still on you.
But he forces himself to take that attention away from you, especially as he still has Floris sitting on his lap with both arms around his neck, glued to him.
And it's here that he assumes, as you do, though he doesn't know it, that what happened last night was just a one-time thing, two people seeking refuge from the world on the pier one night.
But that's all.
The two of you must not know each other, you can't talk or be seen together, mostly because of different social classes, which leads to pretending that the two of you don't know each other and haven't spoken to each other even once.
And what happened that night, on the pier, didn't happen.
A pile of dishes are placed in front of him on the table in the huge back garden of his house which is basically on the shore of the beach, having a spectacular view of the ocean, the beach, the pier, the cliffs around and also the huge houses of his neighbors.
His mother thanks the cooks, who retire and leave his mother, father and him alone.
Aegon must still be asleep, Daeron too because he probably stayed up watching movies with Helaena all nigth who is still very ill. So he is the only one who joins the breakfast.
He looks carefully at a message from Rhaenyra, which is accompanied by two PDF books.
'These books helped me a lot when I first started studying, you can read them if you want to before you go to uni so you have an idea of everything you will learn.'
Aemond reviews both books, both over 400 pages, being very dense material and being exactly what awaits him at college, but he also knows it's important.
He runs a hand down his neck and responds to her text.
'Thank you, Rhae.'
Ever since his older sister knew he would be going into business as well, she's been supporting him.
It's not like from the beginning the two of them had a good relationship, especially since she's the daughter of their father's first wife and there was no first-rate bond, neither with him nor with her other siblings.
But now that she has a family and he has matured enough, at least more than Aegon, that relationship has slowly begun to be forged and maintained.
Besides he is grateful to receive genuine support. Especially from her, already an expert on the subject and with whom he will probably lead the Targaryen empire in the future.
"Are you going to have breakfast, son?"
His mother's soft voice causes him to look away from his phone screen and set it aside, having no interest in responding to messages from Floris or a few of his friends who were with him last night at the party.
"Yeah, sorry."
He tries to catch up with their pace, making himself his cup of coffee the way he likes it.
"Rhaenyra tells me you're planning to take a management course in the middle of summer, son," his father says, catching his attention, "Is that true?"
And he doesn't ask it in a bad way, on the contrary, it surprises Aemond to see how he has pride in his eyes.
"Yeah, well... I think they'll do me good before I go to college."
"Yes, very good idea," Alicent says, watching him proudly as she notices all his dedication to his study, as it has always been.
"Oh yes, of course," Viserys agrees, without hesitation, "Have you found the right course yet?"
"I'm still working on it."
"But..." he frowns slightly, watching him not entirely convinced, "How are things going with that girl... uh... Floris?"
He immediately feels an uncomfortable sensation in his lower abdomen, stirring in his chair as he runs a hand over the back of his neck, biting the inside of his cheek and trying to maintain a normal appearance.
"Good," he replies briefly, without looking at him, "Everything's fine."
"Yeah?" he asks seeing his reaction, "You've been hanging out with her?"
"We were together last night," he says without wanting to go into details, wanting to get that topic over with.
And Alicent also sees how his son is starting to react.
"Floris usually comes in often during the day," she tells her husband in a soft tone with a cup of coffee in her hands, "You don't see her because you're at work."
"Well, that's good to know," he says pleased, though not entirely satisfied, turning his focus back to him, "I fully support the idea of the course, it will definitely do you good but... you can't neglect that girl. Your relationship with her is very advantageous to the company and very soon her father and I will start having meetings."
He brings a hand to the back of his neck again, staring at a fixed point on the table as he presses his lips together, controlling his emotions and what he really wants to say to him.
His mother stares at him, alert, not wanting him and his father to have fights too. But it is clear that he too is already reaching his limit.
However, Aemond knows that he has more self-control, besides he's already into all of this, so he has no choice but to accept, again, what his father tells him.
"Is that what you want me to do?" he asks him in a low tone, honestly feeling tired.
"Of course," his father states sternly, as if it were obvious, "We must have all the most suitable people possible in the company. And the Baratheon's are crucial to our expansion."
Aemond looks up, but says nothing, because he already knows the speech. The Baratheon's, power, family and company.
"Yes but that really isn't the most important thing," his mother interjects again, "After all, Floris is a very nice and pretty girl. I can tell she really cares about you, son."
He can't help but purse his lips at that comment. He knows Floris isn't a bad girl but she's not exactly nice either. And that doesn't change the fact that he's not interested in her.
"Yes and for that very reason you must not ruin things with her," his father insists, "We have to partner with her father and you can't let her slip through your fingers."
"Viserys," his mother calls out to him with mild reproach.
"You know how important this is, Alicent," he begins to say with reproach in his tone, "I have already lost hope in Aegon. It seems he will never change and will be a good-for-nothing for the rest of his life, taking nothing seriously."
"Don't talk about your son like that," his mother scolds him.
"I'm not going to live forever and someone has to take over the company and support this family. But that doesn't matter to him in the least," he continues, "Daeron is still young and I'm thankful that at least Aemond has taken the same direction as Rhaenyra and me."
Aemond says nothing as his mother continues to reproach, annoyed to hear how Viserys refers to her children, especially Aegon.
And he remains silent, fed up with these discussions, family pressures, expectations and being the only one of his children whom his father seems to trust.
And the worst thing is that he can't say anything, because he knows very well that his father considers him as his last resort and in a way... he doesn't want to fail him and he doesn't want everything in his family to explode.
Even if it means he has to sacrifice his own life for the good of the family, he has to do this and it's not worth arguing with his father because it's no use and he's not going to change his mind.
His father starts to raise his voice, his mother too and he ends up going to his room with his morning already ruined, annoyed, tired and grumpy.
And when he tries to distract himself, to occupy himself with his own personal matters so as not to think too much, just at that moment Floris comes to visit.
Just now he doesn't have the capacity to want to be around her, or anyone in general, he just wants peace and quiet, but considering the conversation he had with his father, he is not able to ask her as nicely as possible to come another day.
"I was with Cerelle at my house but I got too bored, even though I told her to meet me tonight at the beach."
She begins to talk as she starts pacing all around his room he just sits there with his desk in front of him and a few books open.
"I also talked to Royce, he said he would be coming for a visit soon. My dad is still mad at him for leaving but I'm sure he'll get over it. I also heard that Jeyne wants to have a party the next week and..."
And so he listens to her voice continuously, talking about everything she did and didn't do in her day, while he puts a hand to his forehead and lets out a long breath, trying not to sound irritated.
"Oh and I went to the mall with Cerelle. I bought a beautiful bag and clothes for our trip to Hawaii," she says excitedly, "My dad has already arranged everything and my family is so excited for you to come with us. I'm also..."
Her voice slowly fades slowly, becoming a distant murmur, as he sinks deeper into his seat and stares at a spot in his room.
His brow furrows and his mind drifts further away from the conversation.
He can't find a way to tell her to stop talking without looking rude and frustrated, but the last thing he wants to do is listen to her right now and the last thing he wanted was for her to show up at his house this day.
He has enough going on in his family lately, especially with his father and he's not in the mood to be dealing with people right now.
He's fed up with everything and all he wants is to be alone while a wave of mental exhaustion washes over him. He wants to get away from everyone for a moment, to have no one bother him so he can have peace and quiet.
"Aemond."
The hand on his shoulder and the voice so close to him brings him back to reality. He blinks and raises his gaze to Floris, who watches him in confusion.
"Are you listening to me?"
"Yes," he says awkwardly and clears his throat, "Sorry," he says, turning his gaze to the front and stirring in his chair.
But she raises her hand towards him, placing it gently on his cheek and Aemond tenses immediately, as she forces him to look at her again gently but firmly enough.
"Are you sure? Are you okay?" she asks him genuinely concerned, "You didn't seem to be listening to me."
"Yes I was and I'm fine, don't worry," he tells her trying to sound convincing.
But Floris is having none of it.
"Is it because of your father or college?"
The silence that follows is palpable as he averts his gaze and removes his hand from her face with a nonchalant gesture. He says nothing but it's clear she's hit the nail on the head.
And Floris lets out a long, resigned sigh, already expecting that. For it is so typical of him not to confide his thoughts and feelings to her.
She's tired of her own boyfriend raising this constant wall between the two of them, where he doesn't want to open up to her. It hasn't been long since the two started dating but still, despite being a couple, there is no trust.
"Aemond," she murmurs his name softly and unexpectedly takes a seat on his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
"Floris," he calls her name awkwardly as well, trying to shake her off, "Wait, I don't—
"You know you can talk to me about anything," she interrupts him, her tone insistent but with a gentleness that she hopes will soften the situation, "I mean...I'm your girlfriend and I'm here for you whenever you need something, talk or anything."
He lets out a long sigh, feeling the weight of her insistence and the firmness with which she remains sitting on him.
The feeling of oppression invades him, both physically and emotionally.
"It's not... I don't..." he tries to speak, "Look, it's not that I don't want to tell you, but..." he gets frustrated, not finding the words or even the will to talk to her, "It's a lot of things."
"You can tell me," she insists, "Come on, babe. I just want to help you," she says as she begins to stroke his hair.
He close his eye for a moment, his patience quickly wearing thin.
"I don't want to talk," he makes it clear to her in a cold, resigned, tired tone.
She shrugs.
"Then we won't," she says simply, accepting that, "But I want you to understand that I'm here for you."
"Yes, I know," he says without even looking at her, running a hand through his hair.
"We can always do other things," she mentions with a certain tone that Aemond understands instantly.
And before he can do anything, she is already kissing him.
The kiss starts slow and soft, while he has difficulties to reciprocate at first, but Floris doesn't stop and pulls the back of his neck towards her, deepening the kiss.
And he with all the mental chaos he has, tries to reciprocate as best he can, trying to forget at least for a moment.
Floris' hands begin to move down, sliding her fingers slowly over his chest while her other hand gently stroke his hair. Aemond tries to lose himself in the sensation, in the moment and let himself go, so he places both hands on her waist.
She begins to move slightly on top of him, her breathing becoming more agitated and her tongue making its way between his lips, wanting more.
He tries to keep up with her and when Floris begins to rub her center against him, his body responds automatically, letting out a slight grunt without stopping the kiss.
Floris' need is evident and when she brings one of her hands to the edge of his shirt and pulls away from his lips, she watches him with full intent and desire in her gaze, her lips red and swollen.
"I want you now," she murmurs against his lips.
He doesn't say anything, just watches her, truly not so sure. But then he thinks: fuck it.
He's tired and exhausted from carrying the weight of everything around him. He just wants to forget, if only for a few moments. So when Floris starts to take off his shirt, he allows it.
She kisses him again with more intensity and he responds with more fervor than before.
Her hands begin to roam all over his naked torso and he stands up, both hands on her thighs, leading her towards his bed.
Soon Floris is on top of him again and feels a spark of electricity run through his skin as her hands touch the edge of his shorts, but before that happens, she slowly pulls down the straps of her dress.
Aemond watches her wordlessly, with his dark eye and indecipherable expression, as Floris complacently takes her time, enjoying every second, wanting him to desire her.
The straps fall and the top of her summer dress slides off, revealing her breasts. Aemond swallows hard, a mixture of desire and bewilderment passing through his body.
She leans into him again to kiss him, as she takes one of his hands and places it on her breast, prompting him to caress her.
He does so, almost mechanically, trying to let himself go and lose himself in the moment, as she rubs herself against him again, making him more aware of how he begins to get hard, his breathing hitching.
But when Floris' hand descends and slips under his shorts, touching him, it is as if his mind wakes up and sends an alert throughout his body.
Suddenly, he stops kissing her and takes her hand roughly, stopping her. Floris watches him confused and half-naked on top of him, still shaken and not understanding anything.
"Aemond?"
He closes his eye tightly and lets out a deep sigh, shaking his head and bringing a hand to his forehead, clenching his jaw.
"Fuck," he mutters.
"What's wrong?" Floris asks him without understanding what has changed so suddenly.
But he doesn't answer, just shakes his head again and pulls her hand away, to also gently brush her off of him.
"I'm sorry," he says softly.
Floris watches him from his bed, still with confusion on her face and quickly adjusts her dress, covering her naked body.
Her breathing is still rapid, but not so much from desire, but from the feeling of rejection that is infiltrating her. And again, for an instant, she thought this would never happen again.
But here they are, him pulling her away and her heart broken again by the humiliation.
"It's been a while," she murmurs, lowering her gaze, “Y-you don't..." her lips tremble, "You don't touch me."
He doesn't look at her, he can't.
"I know. I'm sorry," he says in a low tone, the apology falling with a tone of resignation.
He picks up his T-shirt that's on the floor and puts it on, bringing a hand to his hair, ruffling it in frustration. And Floris watches him still completely confused.
"I just don't get it," she insists, "We're a couple. We should... be okay, I don't know," she says confused, "And I don't understand you. You don't talk to me, Aemond."
Aemond rubs his forehead, the pressure behind his eyes growing. He doesn't know how to explain, doesn't know how to put into words all the thoughts that suffocate him.
And he can't tell her that he doesn't really want to be with her either.
"I need to go," he says flatly.
"What?" she moves quickly, catching his arm, "No, please don't go," she tells him, her tone full of pleading, "I think we should talk."
"I can't, Floris. Not now."
Without trying to be abrupt, he releases his grip and Floris, unmoving, watches him as he takes his phone and car keys without another word.
And he walks away, leaving her alone in his room.
He has no doubt that he will be in trouble for this later, maybe she will mention what happened to her sisters, eventually it will reach her father's ears about her having problems with their relationship and then it will reach his father's ears, demanding explanations from him.
He's not supposed to let her get out of his hands, as his father says, but now he really doesn't care about that.
He doesn't want to be with her and he shouldn't have let that happen. He should have stopped everything the moment she started kissing him.
Sex has been off the table for a while now. He has only slept with her once, when they both started dating for the first time.
He barely remembers it. It was after they both went to a party. He drank a little more than he normally does and assumes that's why what happened at her house happened.
And mostly it hasn't happened again because he doesn't have the interest. He doesn't feel the need with her. And just when he thinks it will finally happen when he lets himself go, in the moment he can't do it because it's feels wrong and pushes her away, leaving the action half done.
And it's not her fault, it's his doing. But he knows that if he explained it to her, she wouldn't understand.
But just like that, another new frustration joins the storm in his mind.
Now he walks towards the pier, the only place where he feels he can breathe. The sound of the waves gently breaking against the wooden pillars, which is the only thing that accompanies him as he sinks into his thoughts.
He doesn't expect anyone to follow him or look for him there. In fact, the last thing he needs is someone else demanding something from him.
For now, he doesn't want to be the perfect son, the boyfriend who should be attentive or the future heir to the family business. What he desperately wants is to escape the expectations that stifle him day after day.
He leans against the wooden stand and stares out into the deep, dark ocean, letting his mind wander, as he feels all the frustration wash over him and in an instant, he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one.
He inhales deeply, letting the smoke invade his lungs, seeking in that sensation a temporary relief from the pressure he constantly feels.
He enjoys his solitude, he has been used to it since he was a child. In many ways, he prefers it and finds it easier.
It is only now that he feels he is getting closer to his family or at least his siblings since his father has put more pressure on everyone. But he has not approached in the way he had hoped.
Aegon is not serious enough to broach the subject and evades his family in clouds of alcohol, parties and girls. Halaena is more independent and wrapped up in her own world, with her way of coping without getting swept away.
Daeron doesn't yet understand the gravity of the expectations that will one day fall on him. And Rhaenyra... she's away with her own family.
And friends... he has no friends. At least, not genuine ones. They are not people he can trust without their own interests involved.
And if he were to talk to any of them, it would be the same as with Floris; an empty conversation, full of awkward silences and expectations.
That's why at times like these, he strangely wishes he had someone to talk to. Someone who doesn't look at him with judgment or see him only as the heir who has to do his duty.
He needs someone who sees him for who he is, without expectations, without judgment. He just wants to be himself, wants to be just Aemond, without the unbearable weight of expectations.
'What would that be like?'
He wonders with genuine interest and even a certain... longing. But he knows he'll probably never know. Not with the life he has.
He inhales deeply once more, the smoke mingling with the salty wind, enjoying the fleeting respite this place affords him. Then in the midst of his peace and quiet, the wood creaks softly under the footsteps that are not his.
He frowns and looks toward the entrance to the pier, thinking maybe it must be some of the security men, but then... he sees you.
He frowns more and attentively, he watches you walk, back straight and with cautious steps, as if trying not to make noise as you walk away, unaware of the creaking wood betraying you.
Then he wonders what you are doing here and why you are leaving.
He remembers that he told you you could come back but doesn't understand why you're leaving. And before he can stop to think about what he is doing, he calls out you'r name.
"Y/N!?"
You stop immediately, your body tensing as if you've been caught doing something you shouldn't, again.
You bite your lips nervously and slowly turn to look at him, some sorrow on your face as he continues to stare at you in confusion.
And well... he's already caught you, again, first here two nights ago, yesterday at the party and now here again, so what's the point?
"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I... I didn't see you on my way over here," you explain, "And well... I thought you might want to be alone."
Your gaze focuses on his, and for a second, the whole world seems to shrink down to just the two of you, as if you were the only ones on the beach, under the dim lights of the pier.
And he doesn't say anything to you, he just watches you intently. And you take that as a sign to leave.
"I'll leave you alone," you assure him in a soft tone, starting to turn away.
And again, Aemond without thinking, decides to stop you.
"Wait," he says finally, in a soft voice, "You don't have to go."
You watch him carefully and curiously as you tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, a little unsure.
"Are you sure?"
He says nothing, just gives you a slight nod and you, hesitantly, finally take a step towards him and then another, beginning to close the distance to join him at the end of the pier.
An anticipation and excitement begins to grow within you, with the sea breeze and the sound of the waves enveloping you.
You feel a slight tension begin to grow between the two of you. It's not uncomfortable but it's not easy to ignore either. And both Aemond and you know that you are both walking on uncertain ground.
But neither of you can help it.
series taglist:
@zenka69 @strangersunghoon @deliaseastar @thefireblaze @kythefangirl25 @p45510n4f4shi0n @saturnssrings @bellaisasleep @primroseluna @tinykryptonitewerewolf @barnes70stark @tssf-imagines
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I’d be so so keen to read something about Em coming out as bisexual to Aaron (aware you’ve had an ask for this I just want to stress the interest 🫶🏼)
It’s something I struggle with myself and the validation of being bisexual is something that’s very real. It would be lovely to read something like this as something that seems realistic for Em. The way you write is so beautiful and intricate and I know you’d do a wonderful job.
For anyone else reading this - you are valid whoever you are and whoever you choose to love <3
Happy Fridayyyyy!!!
Hi bestie <3
I've been asked to do this a few times, and as a bi girl myself it is very close to my heart. I wanted to make sure I did it justice so waited until it felt right and now really does feel like the time. It is also coming to the end of Bi Visibility week, so here we are!
This feels oddly personal, almost like I'm putting out some pages of a diary out there for people to read, so I hope this is as cathartic to read for those who wanted it as it was to write.
As always, let me know what you think, I'm nervous about this one because it feels important!
-x-
The Past is Never Far
She’d told herself for years that she’d never mention it. It was, after all, not the biggest secret she had kept.
Emily and Aaron walk into an ex of hers when they are out on a date, and it prompts her to tell him something she's not told him before.
Warnings: Coming out (mentions of past bad experiences doing so)
Words: 3.2k
Read over on Ao3, or the below the cut
Emily hums contentedly as she squeezes Aaron’s hand, her eyes catching his as she looks up at him and smiles, “This is nice.”
He smiles back, relaxed and content and handsome in the fading light as he lifts her hand to kiss her knuckles, “It is,” he replies, kissing her knuckles again before he tucks their joint hands into his coat pocket to protect them from the chill in the air, “We’re near that ice cream place you like, we could get some on the way back to the car?”
Date night was something they’d established early on in their relationship. They had so little time just the two of them so it was important to them both to have this one night every month where they could have just that. Jack would spend the night at Jessica’s, often pouting that he wanted to come with them too, something Emily and Aaron would salve with love and assurances they’d all have breakfast together the next day, and the two of them would go to one of their favourite restaurants. The nice weather was fading, summer disappearing into Autumn. It was Emily’s favourite time of year. Not because her birthday was coming up, or because Jack and Aaron’s were too, but because of the cool air and the sun on her face. The ever-present reminder in the wind about the beauty of change as the colour of the leaves started to fade to orange and gold.
Aaron knew she loved this time of year, so he’d been easily convinced to go on a walk with her around the block before they returned to his car and back to their apartment. She’d moved in with him and Jack recently, the apartment that was once just theirs hers now too, and they were looking for a house. A place they could buy and call home, something they both wanted so desperately and had been denied for so long.
She smiles, leaning in so her shoulder bumps against his, “It’s too cold for ice cream.”
Aaron chuckles and kisses her temple. He stops them on the street, the hand not linked through hers on her hip as he guides her backwards so they don’t block the sidewalk. He leans in to kiss her, “You’re the one who told me it’s never too cold for ice cream,” he replies, leaning in to kiss her, stamping his lips against hers once more before he removes his hand from her hip and digs through his other pocket, smiling in victory as he pulls out a pair of her gloves, “Plus, I came prepared. Your hands won’t get cold and you can still have Rocky Road - the best of both worlds.”
She beams at him and cups his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss before she rests her forehead against his, “I love you.”
“Love you too, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the corner of her mouth before he pulls back and they continue walking down the street, content and happy in each other's company.
He buys them ice cream once they make it to the store, a double scoop of Rocky Road for her in a cone and one scoop of coffee in a tub for him. He chuckles at her as a drip of ice cream falls onto her gloves and she narrows her eyes at him, making a point of maintaining eye contact as she licks the remnants of it from the ridge of the cone, her smile wide as she watches him swallow thickly. She’s about to say something, to add to the teasing, when she hears a familiar voice behind her, one she hadn’t heard in years.
“Emily Prentiss?”
Her eyes go wide as she turns around, uncharacteristically caught out as she clears her throat, scrambling for something to say as she comes face to face with a piece of her past she hadn’t expected to see again, “Cat.”
Cat chuckles as she steps forward, pulling a still shell-shocked Emily into a hug, “I thought it was you, Em,” she says, squeezing her before she steps back, “It’s been a long time. 15 years maybe?”
“Closer to 20,” Emily laughs, the shake to it grabbing Aaron’s attention as he watches the interaction between the two women. Emily looks at him and curses herself internally for getting so flustered, “Aaron, this is Catherine Thomas, Cat, we…” she swallows thickly, her lips pressed together to keep the whole truth back, “We go way back,” she smiles as she turns to Cat, sees a spark in her eyes she hadn’t thought about in years, “Cat, this is Aaron. My boyfriend.”
Cat smiles and holds her hand out for Aaron and he shakes it, “Lovely to meet you, Aaron.”
“You too,” he replies, looking back and forth between the two women, curious at his girlfriend’s reaction, at the way her shoulders are slightly tight as she watches them interact.
“Anyway,” Cat says, looking back at Emily, “My wife is just getting some ice cream. I can’t believe you still come here after all these years.”
Emily nods, “Best ice cream in the city.”
Cat looks up at Aaron, “Emily introduced me to this place when we first met,” she says, smiling fondly at a memory that was just theirs, “And I bring my wife and kids here now too.”
Aaron smiles, “My son loves it here too.”
“Cat?”
They all turn at the sound of another woman’s voice to see her standing there with two pre-teens, both of them looking relatively irritated at being forced to spend the evening out with their parents, her expression curious as she looks at her wife. Cat nods and indicates she’ll be over in a minute before she turns back to Emily and Aaron.
“Well,” she says, “I’ve been summoned. It was good to see you, Emily. You seem well,” she hugs her again, something Emily returns, careful not to drip ice cream on her back.
“Nice to see you too, Cat,” she says, smiling as she pulls back, her gaze falling on her family behind them, “Your family is beautiful.”
“Thank you,” Cat beams before she looks at Aaron, “Nice to meet you, Aaron.”
“Nice to meet you too,” he replies. They watch as Cat walks back to her family, gratefully taking her ice cream from her wife as she makes it to her side, saying something they can’t hear, “She seems nice.”
“Yeah,” Emily says, feeling out of sorts from the flashback to a past life, something from so long ago it felt like it had happened to someone else. A part of her she kept secret, even from Aaron, “She is.”
“Shall we go home?” He offers, his gaze on her as she smiles at him, a tenseness to it that she doesn’t hide well as her eyes meet his. She nods, shaking her head to rid herself of the feeling that had settled over her the last few minutes. The strange mix of nostalgia for her past when she was young and unburdened by responsibility and everything to come, and happiness for someone she’d once loved, all whilst she stood next to the person she knew was the love of her life, the man she’d spend the rest of her life with.
“Yeah,” she says, smiling as she presses her lips together, her focus back on her ice cream as she eats some more, “Let’s go home.”
___
She thinks about it for a couple of days.
She’d told herself for years that she’d never mention it, her relationship with Cat and the other women she’d dated over the years, because it wasn’t relevant. Since she’d come back to DC, still on uneven ground after being Lauren Reynolds and being with Ian, she’d only dated men. It wasn’t a purposeful act, not something she’d particularly tried to do, but it had happened. So it meant telling her friends, her new family, seem unimportant.
It was, after all, not the biggest secret she was keeping from them.
She’d never even told her mother. Sure that, at best, her reaction would be to tell her it was ‘just a phase.’ At worst, she was sure her mother’s rather selective catholicism would make itself known, and she didn’t want to put herself through it. Instead, she kept the few relationships she’d had with women from her, and the one time she’d met Cat she’d introduced her as a friend, something that she hadn’t known at the time would start to unravel their relationship. The first pull at the thread that held them together, Cat’s confidence in her sexuality so much stronger than Emily’s had been at the time. Cat had been out and proud the entire time she’d known her, and, in the long run, their difference in how they approached it would never have worked.
There were times when Emily had considered telling the team. When she’d make eyes at a woman across a bar when they were all out together, but she’d always chicken out, even with her tongue loosened and her cheeks warmed by tequila. People, mostly ex-boyfriends, had reacted poorly before. Either telling her that bi-sexual wasn’t a real thing, dismissing something she’d always known to be true about herself, or over-sexualising it, a familiar look in their eyes as they saw how her sexuality could benefit them.
After Paris, she decided she’d simply keep it to herself. Her friend's view of her had been changed anyway, the person they thought she was dead and gone, buried in the grave that had always been empty. She couldn’t bear to do it again, to once again change what they thought they knew about her, even for something like this, so she didn’t. Even when she started dating Aaron, sweet, kind loving, Aaron who had never been anything but supportive and unflinching whenever she told him anything she hesitated.
Ever since they’d walked into Cat, she felt the need to tell him. To uncover this last final part of herself that she’d kept hidden away. He knew everything about Ian. He knew about Rome. It was time he knew about this too.
Even though she wants to tell him, she feels nervous. A familiar kind of anxiety settles in her chest as she snuggles up on the couch with him one night, determined to not put it off any longer. Jack was in bed, safe and asleep in his room down the hall, and the TV was on, a movie they’d watched countless times before fading into the background as she sinks into her boyfriend’s side. She presses her face against his shoulder, breathing him in, breathing in the last few moments of how things were before she changed them forever.
“I need to tell you something,” she says, her words partially muffled by his shirt before she pulls back, her brows furrowed as she corrects herself, “Actually, I don’t need to tell you. But I want to.”
He watches her carefully for a moment before he nods, reaching for the remote to turn off the TV, ensuring she has all of his attention. He turns so he’s facing her, his knee skimming her thigh as she turns too, her focus on the top of the couch. She tugs nervously at a loose thread, a nervous habit he’s grateful distracts her from her cuticles. He thinks of the ring he has tucked away in his sock drawer, of how he pictures her twisting it around her finger when she is nervous or worried. He reaches out for her, frowning when she jumps ever so slightly when his hand lands on her knee. He squeezes gently, smiling even though she doesn’t look up at him.
“You can tell me anything, you know that,” he assures her, and she nods, her lips pressed together as she continues to pull at the thread on the couch.
“You…” she swallows thickly, her eyes closed as she trips over the words she’d practised in her head for days, “You remember that woman we bumped into the other day, Cat?” She asks, her eyes darting up to his face as he nods, “She…she wasn’t just a friend. She was my girlfriend. We dated for almost a year when we were both in college,” she blows out a breath, her chest shuddering with it, feeling somehow lighter and heavier at the same time with the admission, “I’m Bisexual.”
Her words hang in the air around them and she holds her breath, waiting for his reaction, unable to bring herself to look at him, worried about what she’d find.
“Thank you for telling me,” he says, his words even and calm, his softness so jarring she looks up at him fast enough it cricks her neck, a pain she barely feels as he carries on, “And thank you for trusting me - I know that can’t have been easy.”
She chokes on a humourless laugh, “Thats…that’s it?”
He smiles at her, his dimples carved out in his cheeks in a way she loves, and he squeezes her knee, “Did you…want a different reaction?”
“No,” she replies, shaking her head, choking on something she can’t name - a sound between a sob and a laugh caught in her chest, “No, not at all. I’ve just never had someone react so…well before.”
He furrows his brow, “What do you mean, sweetheart?”
She laughs bitterly and shakes her head, wiping away a tear she hadn’t expected until she felt it on her cheek, “I once had an ex-boyfriend ask me if it meant we could have a threesome,” she says, scrunching her nose up at the memory. She looks at Aaron and smiles at the pure horror on his face, his brow furrowing in indignation for a past version of her, “I broke up with him when it became very clear he already had a list of women who’d be ‘up for it’ at the ready.”
He clenches his jaw, “I’m sorry he reacted like that,” he replies, “You deserved better than that. You deserve better.”
She presses her lips together and shakes her head lovingly as more tears slip past her lash line, “Well, I have better now,” she says, playing her hand over his on her knee, linking their fingers together, “Do you have any questions?”
“Have you dated any other women?” He asks softly, curious more than anything, and she nods, running her thumb back and forth over his hand.
“Yeah, a couple of others but none as serious as my relationship with Cat. And I’ve had a few dates and drunken hook-ups,” she replies, her cheeks burning with embarrassment she knows she shouldn't feel.
“Have you always known?”
She nods, “Since I was pretty young,” she smiles her lips pressed together at the memory, “Let’s just say, The Dukes of Hazzard was a bit of an awakening. Luke Duke was hot…and so was Daisy Duke.”
He smiles and squeezes her hand, lifting it to kiss her knuckles, “What made you tell me now?”
She blows out a slow breath, “After we walked into Cat, I realised I didn’t want to hide it from you anymore. All the reasons I had for doing so suddenly didn’t make any sense.”
He pulls her into a hug, his arm tight around her as he kisses her cheek, “I’m glad you told me,” he says, smiling as she turns her head to kiss him.
“I’m glad I did too,” she replies, nudging her nose against his, “I…I was so worried it would change how you looked at me.”
He frowns and pulls back to look at her, shaking his head as he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “Never,” he assures her, “Nothing ever could. Especially this.”
She furrows her brow and tilts her head at him, “What do you mean?”
He sighs as he chooses his words carefully, “You’ve always been bi, sweetheart, right? It’s been part of who you are as long as I’ve known you, and it’s been part of you as long as I’ve loved you,” he smiles as he reaches out to wipe away a tear from her cheek, “So it doesn’t change anything because it’s always been who you are, even if you hadn’t told me.”
She leans forward, her forehead against his neck as she breathes him in again, the world the same as it had been before she’d told him, but somehow different too. His understanding of her deeper but everything else unchanged. She takes a moment to hold him close, and she plays everything he’d said back in her head. A conversation she’d remember again and again as a reminder of how much he loved her, how well he loved her. Something she thinks that, after everything, she might just deserve. She furrows her brow as she thinks about it, the way he’d said part of all those wonderful things catching in her chest. Aaron was purposeful in everything. Not calculated, but purposeful. He never said anything he didn’t mean, and she narrows her eyes at him as she pulls back.
“Wait…you said ‘even if I hadn’t told you…” she tilts her head as he clears his throat, avoiding her eye contact, “Oh my god - you knew?”
He sighs, scratching the back of his head with the hand not tangled up in hers, “Sweetheart-”
She scoffs and lightly hits his chest, her cheeks burning at the thought that she’d got herself so worked up over something he apparently already knew, “Why didn’t you say anything?”
He smiles at her indignation, catching her hand before she slaps his chest again for laughing at her. He kisses her knuckles and smiles fondly at her, disarming her ability to be annoyed at him so easily she’s annoyed at herself.
“It wasn’t my place to, Em,” he says, “It’s your story to tell.”
She knows he’s right and she huffs out a breath, her cheek against his shoulder as she pouts in a way she’d deny if he brought it up, “How the hell did you know?”
“As someone who has been in love with you for much longer than I care to admit, I paid close attention to your interactions with anyone I thought might be flirting with you,” he smiles as she tilts her head to look at him, “It didn’t take long to realise you have chemistry with literally every person you ever meet.”
She suppresses a laugh, her lips pressed together as one more wave of anxiety rolls through her, “And you don’t mind?”
He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss her, his hand on her cheek to hold her in place, “If anything, it just makes me feel even more lucky that out of everyone you could be with you chose to be with me.”
She sighs but it catches in her chest, love for him filling her lungs so fast she can’t catch her breath, “Oh, no honey,” she says, placing her hand over his on her cheek, shaking her head as he catches a tear the moment it slips free from her lashes, “I’m the lucky one.”
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