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redheadspark · 24 hours

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can i have benedict bridgerton x reader prompt #24

A/N - This is great for Benedict, thanks for requesting this

Pebble

Summary - After an argument, you think of the worst. Benedict, however, proves you wrong.

Warnings - Angst with a hint of fluff at the end.

You hated this, seeing the door shut in front of you. It was a clear sign that your significant other who was on the otherside of the door was still mad. At least to you it was a sign.

You and Benedict rarely fought, and when you did it would be something very small and mundane. Nearly a small spat really and nothing else to worry about, which was clear evidence of your marriage and your love for one another. You two deeply loved each other, going through your own trials and tribulations as a couple before and after your marriage.

But this, this scared you.

Benedict rarely fought with you, it was not in his nature. He had an aloof soul that was a contrast to your own stubbornness. It was not new, you need to be right from time to time. A constant struggle on your end since you would get yourself in trouble from time to time as a young lady. But Benedict never saw that as a bad thing, he saw the true sweetness that you had and the love you had for him. You would always reel in your emotions and your hard-headedness when it would get too far. Benedict was always your anchor, making sure you didn’t go overboard or too far. You found that to be a blessing, a true blessing in your life.

So now that you and Benedict had a fight, and you felt like the worst wife on the planet.

You were about to tap on the door with your knuckles, thinking of the worst and that Benedict was still fuming at you for how you were going down his throat and spraying him with your words. Your heart was pounding, and your head was replaying all the nasty things you said to him that you knew weren’t true and were all lies.

Yet suddenly, the door was thrown open and Benedict stood in front of you.

His eyes were wide and almost calm, no longer looking angry as he did moments before. He actually looked rather calm and collected, which threw you off as he scanned your face. You were suddenly overwhelmed with all that was said, all of the mean things that came out of your mouth, and all of the resentment that was festering inside of you that was unlashed on your kind and loving husband.

Within a second, you were crying and hiding your face in your hands.

“Darling,” You heard him say, then wrapping you in his arms and tucking you into his arms. You breathe him in as you cried, the tears shitting his shirt while his own fingers were rubbing along your shoulders and upper back. This was not what you expected from your husband, yet again you were expecting him to reprimand you which was not in his nature at all. But for him to hug you, to make you feel safe as you wept in guilt, it surprised you and scared you at the same time.

“I’m sorry,” you hiccuped in his chest, feeling him kiss the top of your head as you were now clinging onto him and shaking from the tears, “I-I-I didn’t m-m-mean any of it—“

“It’s okay,” he hummed against your head, you freezing in his hold as his voice was sounding so calm and sure. It shocked you to hear that from him, making you look up from your spot and see him look down at you with fondness in his eyes.

“I said…all of those things to you!” You tried to explain to him, knowing you were in the wrong in the fight, “None of it was true, and you didn’t deserve any of it,”

“My love,” He cooed, leaning down to frame your face in his hands, The tears on your cheeks and the wide eyes you were giving him, Benedict could see the pain and sense it. You were always so strong and confident in who you were and in how you carried yourself. But that also came at a price with your hardheadedness and need to be right constantly. It was not what you wanted to inflict on your husband, the one person who showed you true love.

Yet you did, and it felt beyond terrible.

“It’s in the past now, okay?” He asked you calmly, brushing away the tears with his thumbs and giving you a sweet smile, “I know you never meant any of those words, and I know this fight we had is nothing we cannot put behind us.”

“Even after—“ You were about to question him some more, not understanding how he could let it go and not be angry with you. But he silenced you with a kiss, a soothing kiss that made your mind go blank. He had that way with you when he would kiss you, able to let you get out of your head for a brief moment. It was one of the great things you adored about Benedict, his way of making you feel loved with a simple kiss. And even then, when you were feeling low while wearing a tear-stained dress and having a battered heart, Benedict never walked away from you.

He pulled away and nuzzled your noses together, his eyes still so soft with him and his face along your jawline feeling beyond delicate like he was holding a jewel, “I love you far too much to let an argument stop us,”

His selfless and caring heart was far too massive, and to hear he was willing to forget about the fight, to let it float away in the wind and no longer fester in it, made you love him all the more. You considered yourself so lucky to have him love you, to feel that love every day when you two would fall asleep in each other’s arms. There were more positive days than negative, and Benedict only proved it now letting a fight simply evaporate and not fester.

“I think we should turn in for the night,” he explained to you, though you rose a brow to him.

“What about our dinner with your family?” You asked, seeing him shrug as he laced your fingers together lovingly.

“I’m sure my mother won’t mind us missing one family meal, we can always go next week. Besides, I would rather be with the love of my life and enjoy my evening with her,” He explained, seeing you finally smiling for the first time that night. Benedict showed you how to not let a single argument or fight to rip your love apart or make you think the worst. Deep down you knew that he still loved you, that he knew you still loved him.

This was merely a small pebble in a river, not a boulder.

The End

May Prompt Session

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton #writing #fanfiction #bridgerton netflix #bridgerton season 3

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ladykailitha · 2 days

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Icarus Part 9

Hello and welcome back to this wonderful fic! Like I've said before having a set schedule for each story got hard and I've resorted to posting on vibes alone.

This week's vibes are all over the place because of the pain in my elbow. It's getting better but it's taking every ounce of self-control and self-preservation I have not write as many words a day as I can to make up for lost time and slowly work my way back up to my old schedule so I don't re-injure it.

But as I've said, if you want to see a specific work more often, drop me an ask and I'll see what I can do.

Here we have Eddie being a sweetheart and Steve and his friends being dorks.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

NDAs were such a large part of Steve’s life he couldn’t remember a time he didn’t have them. For everything.

Even producers had to sign them before they could even breathe in the direction of The Fallen in the recording studio.

It was an exhausting but necessary part of his life. Just like the locked room in his apartment.

Shane and Spence had done an amazing job with Steve’s little notebook of song material. And shocker, only two of them were love songs. Most of the rest of the songs were about trying to survive in a world you had to hide.

He knew that a lot of critics would tell them to lose the masks if it bothered them so much, but at this point Steve didn’t care. They were working on their third album in three years and he was fucking tired.

“Again, from the top,” the producer said into the com. “Abbadon you got a little pitchy on the second line. Watch it. Astraeus, you’re coming in too early. It’s duh-ba-ba-dun and then you come in. You’re coming in on the first ba.”

Steve and Shane nodded and they began again.

Steve’s brain thought it was going to melt out of his ears. He had a test for his certification after today’s session in the studio and he was sure all the information would have leaked out by then.

But apparently Steve’s brain went on autopilot taking the test, and not only did he pass, he passed with full marks.

Spence clapped Steve shoulder. “Hey, man if this whole rockstar gig ever falls apart, you should come be an EMT with me.”

Steve grinned back. That wasn’t a bad idea actually. With his lifeguard training and his affinity for thinking well under pressure, it really was the ideal job.

“I might just take you up on that.”

They broke up for the day and as Steve was putting away his guitar his phone rang.

“Hey, Eds,” he greeted.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Eddie replied. “How did your test go?”

“I aced it!” Steve said, bouncing on the tips of his toes in excitement.

“What?” Eddie cried. “Baby, that’s so amazing! We’ll definitely go out tonight and celebrate. But that’s not the reason I’m calling.”

“Oh?” Steve asked.

“How far are you guys into the album?” Eddie asked, hesitantly.

Steve frowned for a moment. He looked over at Spence and Hopper. They had all had a really rough session today and it had become almost grueling in a way that the other two albums never felt.

“Not as far as we’d like,” Steve admitted. If anyone knew what they were going through it was Eddie.

“I’m sorry, babe,” Eddie commiserated. “Would it be better to continue at it or take break touring?”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. It would be nice to actually take time with the album and not push it out as quickly as possible.

“A break for sure,” Steve murmured. “We’re on our third album in three years, and even though we just got back from a tour, it was less exhausting than being in the studio right now.”

Eddie was silent for a moment. “Have you thought about changing the studio you’re working in? Sometimes a change of scenery can help.”

“I guess we could try,” Steve muttered. “I just didn’t think we had that kind of pull with the record label yet. I’ll call Robin later and see what she can do.”

Eddie hummed in agreement. “So the reason I was asking, babe, is that they have given us a choice of two sets of dates. One that would start at the beginning of the new year and one that would start next summer. And since we’re taking you with us, our management is going to coordinate with yours.”

“Oh.”

Steve wasn’t sure which he would prefer, if he was being honest. “Can I talk to my boys and get back to you on that?”

“Sure thing, Stevie,” Eddie said fondly. “You can tell all about what you guys decided when we meet up for drinks tonight, how does that sound?”

Steve let out a little sigh of relief. “Yeah, that sounds great, Eds. Text me the details.”

“You’ve got it!” Eddie said and then they both said their goodbyes and hang up.

More work, Steve thought mournfully. He didn’t want more work. He was tired and miserable and he should have been happy. The record was liking the album so far, they were about to go on tour with the biggest metal band in the world, he was dating Eddie. Why wasn’t he happy?

He put his head in his hands and forced himself to breathe. He knew that a lot of what he was feeling was being forced to wait when he didn’t want to.

That even if he was out as Abbadon, he couldn’t be out with Eddie. Both of their labels would have literal bitch fits. They could be out to their friends, but as far as the media went, that was off limits. Being bisexual or gay was better now, but it could still tank their careers if they came out with actual same sex partners. Steve’s career especially, new as it was.

Steve let out a low shuddering breath. This whole masked identities shit was tough. He didn’t know how those other bands could handle it. Maybe the difference was that their families knew. He honestly didn’t know.

But he had chosen to walk down this road. When they first started playing and getting turned away by how they looked, they chose to not change themselves, but to become someone else. And it worked and he really couldn’t argue with the results.

Steve loved his job. He loved that he got be in a band with his best friends and that his platonic soulmate was their manager. He loved getting out there on stage and singing his heart out. But it was hard sometimes.

He pulled out his phone and called Robin. “Hey, what are the label’s requirement on getting this album done? Like does it have to be at this studio with this producer?”

“One sec,” Robin said, pulling it up on her computer. She scanned the document complete with searching for key words. “Doesn’t look like it. Why? What’s up?”

“You know how we’ve hit a wall in the studio?” Steve asked around chewing on his thumb.

She scoffed. Of course she knew. “And you’re thinking a change of venue might help or at the very least a new producer?”

“Yeah...” Steve said. “Eddie suggested it, but I wasn’t sure if we had that kind of clout with the record label.”

Robin was quiet on the line, but Steve could feel the cogs in her head turn. “I’ll get on it.”

“Thanks,” he said, breathing out a sigh of relief. “Did Eddie’s label send over the tour dates?”

“Let’s see...” she hummed. “Yup! I’m reading through them... and I’m guessing you to talk with everyone before making a final decision?”

“Right in one,” Steve said. “Preferably with whether or not we get someone else in to produce.”

“You’ve got it, babe,” she said. “Does this have a deadline?”

“Eddie said he would like to know by tonight,” he said, “but I can tell him we’re still working things out and that’s we’ll get back to him.”

“That would be ideal, yes.”

Steve huffed out a laugh. “I’ll still talk to the boys and at least get a feel for what they’re thinking even if we can’t shift producers or studio.”

“Sounds good,” Robin said. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I learn anything.”

He hung up and pulled up the group chat and messaged his friends to meet at his place. He had stuff he wanted to talk with them regarding upcoming tour dates.

Simon and Shane texted back immediately. Spence had left them on read for about fifteen minutes before responding with a question about how long they would be.

And then the ribbing began.

-Oohh...you with that girl?- Shane

-He totally is!!- Simon

-Pics or it didn’t happen- Steve

-Pics!- Simon

-Yeah, man, is she cute?- Shane

-Why do you care, Shane? You’re gay- Spence

-Because like a flower I can appreciate the feminine form, even if I don’t want to fuck it- Shane

Pic comes in of Spence on his couch with a gorgeous dark-skinned woman with soulful eyes and long black hair.

-Meet Nadia

-Lucky guy!- Simon

-That’s quite the flower :P- Shane

-Yeahhh...I’m sorry, man, as much as I would like to let you stay with your lady love, we really need to talk. Business. :(

-I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. I love my job. -Spence

-lol! You keep telling yourself that and maybe one day I’ll believe you- Shane

-GASP! Spence doesn’t love us! :’(- Simon

-Damn it. Fine I love you all- Spence

-Simon uses sad emoji against Spence, it’s super effective! (pokeball emoji)- Steve

-Meet at my place as soon as you can- Steve

There was the usual chorus of affirmative responses and Steve set down his phone.

He looked up at the ceiling as he huffed out a sigh. His friends were on the way, Robin was trying to fix the problem with them hitting a brick wall making their album, and Eddie was supportive.

It helped that Spence was dating now, too. They could commiserate about their love lives.

Simon hated that while he could get girls as Asmodeus but not as himself he swore off dating until he found someone who liked him for him and not just because he was a rock god.

Shane just liked having fun. Wherever that took him. Usually gay bars with lots of booze and dancing.

They weren’t “rich and famous” enough for the wild parties and shit. At least not yet. They were getting a lot traction with their second major album though so that was probably going to change fast.

Steve just glad that he would have Eddie and Robin holding his hand though this.

He looked over at the contract on his table and sighed. Like Spence, he really did love his job. And he knew that there were hundreds of bands wishing to be in his shoes.

He could do this.

He was, after all Abbadon, lead singer of The Fallen and he knew how to do this shit.

****

Tag List:

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie

@chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @danili666 @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach

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@thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners

@thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade

@cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #rockstar steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar au

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heavywithourbabies · 5 hours

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“Fill me” She had texted him with the photo. She had been so pleased with herself. The angle was perfect. The finger biting was sexy but cute. Her pert tits on display with just enough of her pussy on showing to entice him. She had wondered if she should have shaved before hand and decided to dismiss it. A little bit of hair was, in her mind “kind of classy”. She would send these photos to him with similar messages to drive him wild. “Breed me?” , “ Cum and claim me” , and when she sent a particularly lewd photo of herself spread wide she added “Breed me daddy.” At 24 she was having the time of her life dating a man ten years older than her. Old enough to have a few gray hairs popping up but still in good shape and able to make her legs shake in bed. She had never told any of her previous boyfriends her breeding kink but when he divulged his pregnancy fetish she thought it was a perfect match. She could finally indulge the itch that she had never been able to fully scratch before. It was everything she wanted, passing out with his seed dripping out of her, a safe way to finally play…..until she started feeling sick at random times and for no obvious reason.

Her breasts began to feel sore and she couldn’t help but notice her pants felt just a little bit tighter. After the second missed period she went to the doctor who confirmed what she had been silently dreading. Somehow her birth control had failed. Congratulations. There’s a little bun in the oven. She cried in the doctors office while her boyfriend gently comforted her. He would take care of her. He would be there every step of the way. She couldn’t help but notice how many teeth he was showing when he smiled and said “You’ll look beautiful carrying my baby.”

She soon found out it was babies. Not baby. And that there was a big difference between having a breeding kink and a pregnancy fetish

“Fill me” She had texted. 8 and a half months later she regretted those words.

She could barely breathe with the weight of her achingly full womb and tits pressing down on her as she was on her back with him fucking her for the third time that day. She was exhausted and every inch of her new ample body ached. Her once pert breasts could now could only be described as bloated, uncomfortably full from the pregnancy and breast milk. So tender she couldn’t help but wince a little as the full flesh clapped against her globe of a belly with his thrusts. It might have just be in her head but she could almost swear she could hear milk slosh around inside of her chest when she moved. Both of the babies were wide awake from all the rocking and her gravid belly was quivering with their movements. She was so tired and swore there was no way she could possibly cum while feeling this huge and uncomfortable but over and over her own body betrayed her as she felt the waves of pleasure run through her and begin to peak again. She almost wanted to beg for him to stop. It felt good but her poor sex was so swollen and tight it was now almost painful when she came. “Please - “ She tried to say as the dam broke and she felt herself contract around his iron hard cock and gush all over him. That was new and unwelcome as well. Almost every night she would fall asleep a sopping mess, too tired to lift her now fat ass up to try and clean up the mess. Just as she started to come down just enough she heard him groan and his cock twitch inside of tender walls. “Oh noooo” She began to moan as she felt him spurt one thick hot rope after another and her body reacted in kind, flooding the two of them all over again.

He lay there with his arms wrapped around her monstrous belly, trying to soothe his babies as she tried to catch her breath. Why did she ever play with fire like this?

“God, I love you like this” he whispered in her ear and she couldn’t help but get goosebumps. “After the girls are born and we can…. I’m going to fill you again.“

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lily-fics-11 · 1 day

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The Girl Next Door: Chapter 6 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

Fic master post here

Tag list: @avocifera, @academiareid, @fictionalgap @dynsdiary @sndixz @athenalive @lamoobsessions @eloud12

(feel free to comment to be added to taglist)

The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes

Chapter 6

Isabel and Brittany question you about Hazel. Your best friends can’t help but try and push you and Hazel together, and it seems to be getting to your head. It almost seems like Hazel is treating you like more than a friend?

Word count: 4.2k

CW: Profanities, not beta read

It’s Saturday night, at Brittany’s house, with her and Isabel. Brittany is painting your nails your favorite color when she notices the beaded bracelet on your wrist.

“H?” she questions. “Why the letter H?”

“Oh. The H. It’s for Hazel, actually,” you explain, avoiding eye contact and praying your face isn’t flushed.

“Are you guys like-” Isabel starts with clear excitement but you cut her off. “No, it's not like that. Like at all. Not even a little. We were always best friends, and now we are again.”

“Ok, fine, I guess. But we had no idea you two even knew each other until like a week ago. What happened between you guys because I’ve literally never seen you two interact with each other before now? Did you do something? Did she do something? Was it the both of you? Whatever happened had to have been bad, so why are things ok all of the sudden?” Isabel looks both confused and concerned. It makes sense why your best friend would be unsure of what to make of this confusing situation. You don’t even fully understand it yourself.

You take a deep breath before coming clean. “I’ve been in love with Hazel since middle school. But right when I realized I had feelings for her, she pushed me away, and I never knew why. I was in so much pain so I forced myself to move on. Make new friends, and eventually get into a relationship. But even though I had convinced myself otherwise, I’ve been in love with her the whole time. I found her bloody in the locker room after fight club one day and I couldn’t just leave her there like that. We ended up talking and reconnecting. I eventually confronted her, so she explained everything to me. I don’t want to share stories that aren’t mine to tell, but I will say that she just thought she was doing what was best for me. She apologized and I couldn’t help but forgive her. I know that Hazel never meant to hurt me, and I love her too much to pass up the opportunity to have her back in my life. All those years it felt like a piece of me was missing, and I finally had a chance to put things back together. I don’t have her the way that I want her, but it’s so much better than not having her at all.”

“Oh, wow.” Brittany takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry. I had no idea you had been through all of that. But are you sure that this is worth it? Hazel is a sweetheart, and she would never do anything to hurt you on purpose, but are you going to be hurting yourself?”

You run a hand through your hair and take a moment to think about it. This is kind of insane. You could potentially do some major damage to yourself. But there is nothing you want more than Hazel. “That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”

“Well if that’s the case I’m really happy for you. You guys would be so cute together.” Isabel claps enthusiastically.

You shake your head no at her. “Isabel, please, don’t get my hopes up like that. I have no reason to believe that she feels the same way about me. If anything I’ve got far more evidence for her not seeing me like that. I think she’s just happy to be friends again.”

“Hazel mentions you in the notes like all the time. Like way more than anyone else.” Brittany grins mischievously. You raise an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“The notes she takes every meeting and emails to everyone. Do you not get them?”

You wrinkle your nose and furrow your eyebrows. “I get them. I never noticed it. I'm sure you guys are exaggerating and didn’t even think about it until now.”

Brittany laughs. “We have been suspicious since the first time we saw you guys together. Do you not know what you look like when you look at her? Haven’t you seen the way that she looks at you?”

Isabel is quick to add “you guys started driving to school together even though you love your alone time, and remember that night you hung out at her house? You didn’t answer your phone for hours and that is so unlike you.”

Before you even get a chance to defend yourself Brittany throws at you what she believes to be some hard hitting evidence. “I have seen you guys fight each other. The sexual tension is so obvious. I have never seen two people pin each other to the ground so much. Especially not with that hungry look in their eyes.”

You are at a loss for words, so you close your eyes and flop backwards to lay down. Isabel pokes your leg. You don’t open your eyes but that doesn’t stop her from asking “were you there the day we were talking about celebrity crushes?”

“Nope.” You hear her giggle. “Well I didn’t make the connection until now, but you know that actress that everyone says you look like? That’s Hazel’s celebrity crush.”

You open your eyes and sit up, feeling defeated. “I’m sure it is just a coincidence.”

“You can believe what you want, but I’m still going to be shipping you guys so hard!” Isabel squeals.

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

Isabel and Brittany were not kidding when they said they would be rooting for you and Hazel. You appreciate their enthusiasm, but you would be mortified if Hazel noticed them giggling and watching you stand next to each other at the next fight club meeting. Isabel and Brittany’s eyes light up when you and Hazel are paired up for a fight. Your friend's stares were burning holes into the back of your head when you were on the ground straddling Hazel’s waist. This is only going to feed into their delusions. It seems useless at this point to hope they keep their eagerness in check.

It didn't take long for them to try and set you and Hazel up with each other, they took the first chance they got. You were unaware of their scheming until they approached you and Hazel at the end of fight club to see if you guys would want to get ice cream all together. “A little sweet treat before we all have to study for that math test tomorrow,” Isabel offers with a smile.

Brittany makes an excuse to take you with her in her car. “You forgot your shirt at my house, I need to give it back to you.” There was no shirt. Brittany just wanted to prepare you for what definitely isn’t a date, even though she seems to think it is.

Brittany glances over at you while she is driving. “Do you want to fix your hair?” She asks.

You squint your eyes at her. “Uhh.. why?”

She playfully rolls her eyes. “Don’t you want to look nice for your date with Hazel?”

That makes you laugh. “Brittany, it’s not a date if she doesn’t know that it’s a date.”

“You know what I mean. I have a hair brush in the glove box. There’s also some lipstick in there if you want to use it.”

“I’m not going to try and impress a girl who doesn’t want to be impressed”

“But isn’t it worth trying?” Without answering you pull the brush and lipstick out of the glove box and flip down the mirror.

Upon arrival, you and Brittany meet up with Hazel and Isabel before going inside. You enter first and approach the counter to order. After scanning your options you tell your friends “I can’t decide between cookies and cream and chocolate chip cookie dough.”

“Hey same!” Hazel smiles at you.

“If neither of you can decide between them, why don’t you just get both and share?” Isabel teases. God Isabel, right in front of Hazel?

“Oh… I, uh…” you begin but Hazel cuts you off. “Sounds like a good idea, right?” she asks expectantly. You just nod and force a smile. As much as you have protested it, you would love for this to be a date. But it's not, and you need to keep your expectations in check. Once the ice cream Hazel had ordered for the two of you is ready, you pull out your wallet only for her to step in front of you and pay for the whole thing without even asking. You blush and look away, accidentally making eye contact with Brittany who mouths “date” to you. Your palm meets your forehead. You really are grateful that your friends are trying to help you out, but you are going to have to explain to them that getting your hopes up will only make things worse in the end.

You intentionally sit next to Hazel, it will feel less romantic than being across from her. Not being able to stare longingly into her eyes is for the best. However, that didn’t keep you from questioning Hazel’s every move. Yes you were sharing food, but why did she sit so close to you? Seats nearly touching, practically shoulder to shoulder, knees brushing up against each other if moving more than an inch. Even worse, why did she put her arm around the back of your chair everytime she sat back to talk? Hazel talks a lot. If you weren't paying attention she would do it without you realizing and her arm would end up slung around your shoulders. You would sit there, absolutely mortified, while Isabel and Brittany failed to contain their excitement, though Hazel was none the wiser. You did your best to avoid looking over at her, that award winning smile and warm gaze far too easy to get lost in.

About halfway through the bowls of ice cream Hazel excuses herself to the bathroom.

Once Hazel is out of earshot Isabel slams her hands on the table and leans forwards. “Sooooooo…”

“So what?” You sigh.

“Come on, you know what she means,” Brittany crosses her arms and grins.

You put your hands up in the air like you have been cornered by the police. “I can’t say that I know what you guys are talking about.”

“This date!” The two yell in unison.

“Oh my god guys, could you please keep it down? I hate to break it to you, but if Hazel and I are on a date, then you two are on a date with each other. Just two best friends, eating some ice cream, that's all.”

“You are sharing ice cream!” Isabel exclaims, gesturing to the bowl in front of you.

You run your hands through your hair. “Because you suggested it.”

Brittany points to Hazel’s chair. “You guys are sitting so close together.”

“Well we're sharing the ice cream.”

“She keeps putting her arm around you!” Brittany sounds exasperated.

“You can’t ignore the way she looks at you!” Isabel pleads.

You put your hands down on the table in an attempt to further assert yourself. “If you keep getting my hopes up it's going to hurt even worse when she finally gets a girlfriend or in some other way makes it clear that she doesn't feel the same way.”

Brittany looks so disappointed. “We wouldn’t be trying to set you guys up if we didn't think there was something there.”

“I want this so bad,” slips out of your mouth as wild fantasies dance through your head.

“Maybe it's time that you give this a chance,” Isabel timidly suggests.

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it, but only if she took the lead,” you admit, nervously twisting your bracelet and averting your eyes.

Isabel and Brittany’s eyes wander behind you, so with panicked eyes you sharply run your hand past your throat, signaling that this conversation is officially being cut off.

Even though there is no way she could have known what had been discussed while she was gone, you are paranoid that Hazel somehow heard everything. You worry that the feelings left behind are written all over your face. Fortunately, nothing goes wrong as you all finish eating.

After cleaning up you are the only one to sit back down at the table. The other girls look at you, confused. You tilt your head back and groan. “I do not want to go home and study for this test. It's going to be miserable.”

“Well how much have you studied so far?” Hazel questions.

“Not enough,” you sigh. Hazel steps towards you and takes your hand. You can’t even imagine how unfortunate the look on your face is right now. She pulls you up to your feet. “Just think,” she tries to encourage you,”by this time tomorrow it will be over, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you are right.” You concede, expecting her to let go of your hand at that point, but she doesn't. Hazel holds your hand all the way to the car, and doesn’t let go until she has opened up the passenger side door and you have made yourself comfortable.

You can hardly believe it, but maybe Isabel and Brittany are onto something? Like this is absolutely mind boggling and insane. Is this even possible, or a mere delusion? Furthermore, are you actually starting to get your hopes up? You are playing a dangerous game, but you reap what you sow.

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Last night you studied like your life depended on it, and it was exhausting. In the morning you hit the snooze button as many times as you can without the risk of being late, sacrificing a part of your morning routine each time you slammed on the button to make the blaring noise stop. In the end you walked out the door without a stitch of makeup in the sweatpants and sweatshirt you wore to bed.

You meet Hazel in your driveway. When you unlock the car’s doors she gets in right away. You open the door but stop to groan and pout. “I really don’t want to do this,” you whine to Hazel and she smiles and shakes her head. “Oh neither do I.”

“Then why don’t we just skip? We could stay home and binge watch something,” you suggest, half serious and half not.

Hazel sighs. “I literally couldn’t want anything more.” Your breath hitches. “But, we both studied so much that it would be a waste to miss the test. Not to mention that your mom would kill the both of us if she found out that we skipped school.” Hazel leans over the center console and reaches her hand towards you. You take it and let her pull you into the car. You are very aware of how you keep finding your hand in hers. Are you unhappy about this test? Obviously. Are you slightly exaggerating because it means Hazel might hold your hand? That’s not even a question.

You hesitate to start the car, so Hazel gently places her hand on your thigh. She tilts her head to the side, carefully observing you with a dreamy look in her eyes. Her hand placement was more than enough to snap you out of your mood. But the way she was looking at you? That just might make you risk it all. You fight off the urge to lean over and steal a kiss from the girl you love.

When you turn the key in the ignition you are expecting Hazel to pull away, so you are pleasantly surprised when she doesn’t. Previously, you would have shied away from moments like these, but Isabel and Brittany have really gotten inside of your head.

“If you want you can come hang out at my place after school. We can watch an old movie.” Hazel proposes.

You look over and meet her gaze and a smile spreads across your face. “I would love that.”

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

Hazel catches up with you on the way out of class after your test, putting her arm around your shoulders, causing a shock to your system. Though it’s a pleasant surprise, it isn’t easy to play it cool.

“So, how do you think you did?” Hazel smiles at you, looking at your… lips? You look down at your feet because you fear internal combustion, though still able to feel Hazel’s lingering gaze.

You are so nervous that you stutter when you answer her question. “I-I um think I actually d-did well. How about you?”

“I’m going to be honest, I was a little distracted. I was thinking about, well, things. But I still think I managed to pull it off.” Despite her claims of having been distracted, she sounds rather excited and you can’t miss the opportunity to see that look on her face, so your eyes wander back up to meet hers. That cute goofy smile is more than enough to put all the stress from this test behind you. In all honesty, Hazel could erase just about anything from your mind. You know that your own expression must be mirroring hers. “Well I’m glad that you made it through okay.”

Hazel nods at you. “I’ve got to go but I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah of course.”

Hazel pulls away from you, running her hand down your arm. The light graze of her fingertips momentarily lingers on your hand before finally drifting away and waving as she walks off. Hazel continues to look back at you until she stumbles into someone and has to turn her attention ahead of her.

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

When you get to Hazel’s house Mrs. Callahan is delighted to see you, and invites you to sit down with her. Hazel rolls her eyes and leans against the doorway with her arms crossed. You smirk as an image of what Hazel would look like doing THE lean crosses your mind. When you sit down next to Mrs. Callahan she slides a magazine over to you.

“I want you to have this. You don’t have to look at it now, but there is a spread that starts on page 17, it’s from one of my favorite designers and every outfit would look absolutely amazing on you! Check it out when you get the chance and definitely keep this in mind the next time you want to do some shopping.” Mrs. Callahan is beaming at you. Hazel has always been a tomboy so she loved talking about fashion with you and would join you and your mom on shopping trips.

You thank her and then Hazel clears her throat, so you start to get up.

“Can I ask you a quick question?” Mrs. Callahan asks.

“Of course.”

She leans and whispers, just low enough for Hazel not to be able to hear, “you’ve put that ex girlfriend of yours behind you, correct?”

Your eyes widen, taken off guard by the personal question. “Oh yeah, she's no longer a part of my life,” you explain, doing your best to keep your voice down because it’s clear she wants this conversation to be private.

Mrs. Callahan looks satisfied and you can only assume that your mother had divulged the details of your tumultuous relationship. She continues with her hushed tone “you deserve much better than the way that girl treated you, honey. I don’t think you will have to look too far to find the right girl for you.”

“We should head upstairs,” Hazel calls over impatiently.

“I’m actually heading out now. I won’t be back until pretty late.” Mrs. Callahan informs you. Hazel grumbles a goodbye and you wave before she walks out the door.

“I’m going to put my stuff in my room, I’ll be right back,” she tells you before disappearing up the stairs.

After entering the living room a feeling of nostalgia washes over you. There are so many memories here of blanket forts, movie nights, and playing games. After leaving your things in the corner you sit down all the way to the side of the couch, right up against the arm rest. It’s not long before Hazel appears in front of you, “Do you know what you want to watch?” You suggest a movie and Hazel thinks it’s a great idea.

She takes a seat in the center of the couch, as if to give you some space, while also testing the waters of trying to get close to you. You aren’t quite sure how you feel about this yet, but decide to live in the moment. While looking at the tv, out of the corner of your eye, you see that Hazel is watching you. She looks a little dazed, eyes soft, biting her lip. When you look over to her she quickly snaps her head towards the tv.

The movie is lighthearted but anytime you and Hazel look at each other the eye contact is intense. Whether you are laughing at a joke or reciting a quote in unison you kept getting caught up in the moment. The part of the movie you were reacting to would pass, but you would still be gazing into her beautiful eyes, and she would be staring right back. Then, the two of you would realize what you were doing and regain your composure.

You start to feel cold so you get up to get the sweatshirt you have in your backpack.

“Where are you going?” Hazel questions, and you peer over your shoulder at her. There is disappointment in her eyes, seeing you walk away.

“Just grabbing my sweatshirt,” you reassure her.

“Are you cold?” She asks, looking concerned, and you nod your head.

“I’ve got a blanket right here, if you want to use that instead,” Hazel offers, gesturing to a blanket hanging over the back of the couch.

“Uh, sure. Thanks.” You take your spot back on the couch and Hazel passes you the blanket.

“I think I’m actually cold too, would you mind sharing?” She inquires, fixing her hair even though it looks fine.

You blink rapidly, a little taken back. “No, not at all.”

“Is it ok if I, uh, sit a little closer? It would be easier to share,” Hazel asks, looking down and fidgeting with one of her rings.

You nod your head at her once again, feeling nervously excited. Hazel slides over and when she said close she meant close, she left no space between the two of you. Shaky hands drape the blanket across your laps. You feel your heart pounding in every part of your body. Isabel and Brittany’s idealistic thinking has infected your brain. Should you make a move to see how she reacts or wait and see if she does? You decide to wait and see if she takes any initiative. You meant it when you said you wanted

Hazel doesn’t leave you waiting for long. She rests her arm behind you, on the back of the couch, like she is inviting you into her. You obviously take the bait. There was no space to close between you but you lean your weight into her and rest your head on her shoulder. Hazel then wraps her arm around your waist, holding you against her. It all feels like a dream, breathing in her scent, feeling the warmth of her body next to yours. You are buzzing from the way her hand is firmly planted on your waist. Her voice is like a melody and her laugh is like a warm hug. You savor every moment with her.

After the movie is over, and you are getting ready to go, Hazel puts her hand on your arm. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what did my mom whisper to you earlier?”

“Oh, she just asked about my ex.”

“She asked you about what?”

“My ex.”

“Sorry, I heard you the first time, I just can’t believe she would bring that up, I told her not to.” Hazel sighs.

“What do you mean that you told her not to? Have you been discussing my love life Hazel Callahan?” You laugh at her. You aren’t mad, just intrigued.

“Your mom had told my mom about your break up, so she came to me to try and get more information. She was really worried about whether or not you were ok. I told her that I wasn’t totally sure, because we hadn’t talked much about it. But she knows that I wanted us to be, uh, friends again, so she was very hopeful that you were in the right place for us to start a- I mean start over. My mom would bring you up from time to time over the years, hoping we would be friends again. When I explained to her that it was hard to tell whether or not you were also in, uh, the right place for that, she told me that we are meant to be, I guess friends, so the opportunity would present itself.”

You smile, feeling a flush across your face, knowing that Hazel has always intended to get you back in her life.

“Well, I am doing ok. I know a lot has happened between us, but I have a feeling that things are going to work out the way they are supposed to.”

#hazel callahan #hazelcallahan #bottoms hazel #hazel bottoms #hazel callahan blurb #hazel callahan bottoms #hazel callahan brainrot #hazel callahan x you #hazel callahan fanfiction #hazel callahan imagine #hazel callahan x reader #hazel x reader #hazelfanfic #hazel callahan fic #hazel callahan fluff #hazel callahan x fem reader #hazel callahan x fem!reader #hazel from bottoms #hazel callahan headcanons

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aemonds-fire · 2 days

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The Sapphire Spell Ghost Aemond x Female Reader Part Six - The Kinslayer Lives

Can a spell cast by Alys long ago bring Aemond Targaryen back to life centuries later in Westeros? When the remains of the Kinslayer are found and put on display in a Cabinet of Curiosities, the ghost of Aemond discovers the proprietor’s beautiful daughter is the only person who can see or hear him.

Dark Ghost Aemond x Female / Slow Build / Dark Romance

Word Count: 3329

Chapter Warnings: Angst

The Sapphire Spell Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

You’ve been in your room all day, sobbing, broken with grief and guilt.

When your father still hadn’t arisen past time for breakfast, your housekeeper knocked on his door to check if he was alright. Worried when she received no answer, she hesitantly entered the room and found him still in bed. Alarmed to find him with his eyes open but not breathing, the housekeeper immediately summoned your father's physician.

The physician determined angina pectoris to be the cause of death; in layman's terms, his heart failed. Why, he could not say for sure. Over exertion, mental strain, or possibly an unknown defect of the heart, he speculated.

But you thought you knew why. You had never seen him so angry as he was last night. Some of the servants heard him yelling at you; they knew you had done something terrible to enrage him like that. ‘This was your fault,’ you tell yourself.

Not wanting to face anyone, you stayed in your room, refusing to eat and suffering through bouts of heartbreaking sobbing.

You couldn’t even summon the will to go and see Aemond, though a part of you sorely wishes he could comfort you, wanting simply to be held while you cried out your sorrow.

You remember little of that first day without your father—just endless tears. Only when you learn that your father's solicitor is coming to discuss his affairs do you force yourself to get out of bed and dress.

The solicitor is a kind and soft-spoken man, as well as a longtime friend of your father's. Seeing your distraught state, he tries to console you by assuring you that arrangements according to your father’s wishes have already been made so you wouldn’t have the burden of making decisions. He informs you that the funeral will take place in two days.

Before leaving, he encourages you to rest and eat, promising to return to escort you to the funeral.

You still do not wish to face anyone, not even your beloved staff, some of whom you’ve known since childhood, choosing to remain in your room. You’ve stopped crying for now, feeling that you have no more tears and wishing for numbness to take over.

Only when it is past midnight and sleep continues to elude you do you quietly don a robe and shawl and slip over to the museum, desperately seeking solace.

Signs are posted on the doors, informing the public that the museum is closed until further notice. Walking through the collection, there seems to be a gloominess here, as if the items your father collected and treasured are aware of his loss. You wonder if this can ever be a happy place for you again.

Aemond is waiting for you at the top of the stairs, watching your approach with concern on his face. “I wanted to come looking for you. I’ve been worried.”

“Aemond, he’s gone” is all you can cry out; just speaking of it brings a fresh swell of tears.

Staying by your side, encouraging you to sit on a nearby bench, “I know. I…felt something. And I overheard some of the workers talking.” He stammers a bit with his half-truth, painfully aware that he is the true cause of your grief. “I am truly sorry.”

Barely able to look at him through your tears, you cry, “It’s all my fault.”

He lowers himself so that you are eye-to-eye. “Look at me. Do not blame yourself; it was not your fault,” he insists. “He was angry with me. He only wanted to protect you. If anyone is to blame, it is me.”

Yearning for any easing of your pain, you wish you could fall into a warm embrace, but all you can feel is his icy chill surrounding you as your tears continue to flow. He stays with you while you cry out your grief, murmuring reassurances to you. Eventually, your sobs wane, leaving you with tear-swollen eyes and an aching head.

“I’m sorry for going on like this. I just feel so alone right now,” you lament between sniffles, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“You are not alone, nor will you be,” he whispers to you. “I wish I could do more for you right now, but unfortunately I cannot in this state."

Nodding your head slightly, “I can bring the sapphire to you, but the next two days will be difficult for me. I will have to receive guests, and then there will be my father’s funeral.” You sigh as the thought of it fills you with sadness. “But I want to be here if you need my help.”

“Then we will wait until after the funeral,” he decides. "I've waited this long," he reassured you with a gentle smile. "I can wait a little longer."

The two of you quickly form a plan, settling on the evening after the funeral, when you have an excuse to give your household and museum staff time off to mourn, and you can plead tiredness and grief to give you time alone.

You feel grateful to have him with you. Despite how vehemently your father was against your trying to help Aemond, you are determined to aid him. You believe no one should have to suffer what he has. Though his legacy may paint him as a killer, you have spent hours with him, growing quite fond of him.

“Thank you; I do not wish to burden you any further,” he insists. “Now you should go and rest.”

Feeling exhausted, you only nod in agreement, though you wish you didn’t have to leave him.

As you head towards the staircase, Aemond says, “I am sorry for your pain, but everything will be alright.”

Thankfully, you do sleep through the night and wake up feeling a little stronger. It still feels like there is a hole in your heart, but you now believe you will somehow get through it. You let the housekeeper and cook fuss over you, trying to persuade you to eat breakfast. You manage to eat a little, though the food has no taste.

The next day and a half passes with you simply going through the motions of what is expected of you. You somehow manage to get through the funeral without breaking down and sobbing like a child, but the effort leaves you exhausted. You already informed your staff they could take the rest of the week off, with pay, to mourn. Despite their misgivings, they heed your plea for time alone. Your father's solicitor, who is also concerned about leaving you on your own, is the last to leave. Finally, you convince him that you simply need time.

Once you have the house to yourself, you gather a few items, including the sapphire, and make your way to the museum.

Filled with nervous trepidation, you meet Aemond near the glass casket holding his remains. You brought some of your father’s clothes and a blanket with you, which you set nearby. He and Aemond were about the same height, though your father was more burly in build.

“Aemond, do you have any idea of what will happen or how this might work?”

Still staring at his bones, he quietly says, “No, I do not.”

“I’m worried for you. What if it doesn't work, or something goes wrong?"

“You know I have to try."

Nodding your head, you accept the fact that he is determined to do this, despite the uncertainty or the risk. Your hands shake as you unlock the casket's lid to open it.

Aemond gives you a determined look before telling you, “Once you have placed the sapphire, I want you to leave. Go back to your home and stay there."

"No, I should stay here. What if you need my help?”

He now shakes his head at you and argues, "I don't know how this will work or what it might look like. I don’t know how long it might take.” Pleading with his eye, “Please go; if it works, I will come to you.”

You agree to do as he asks, not wanting your final time together to be an argument like it was with your father. But holding the sapphire in your trembling hand, you are suddenly overcome with apprehension. You cannot stop staring at him, thinking that you cannot lose someone else this soon and that there are so many things left unsaid between you.

As if he can read your mind, Aemond smiles and says, ”Do not worry. We will talk when this is done.”

After placing the bright blue gem in the eye socket of Prince Aemond Targaryen’s skull, you turn and reluctantly head back down the staircase.

It is still dark out when you wake up after dozing off on the couch in the parlor. When you check the time, you realize it's the middle of the night. Feeling stiff from sleeping awkwardly, you stand, trying to stretch the kinks out of your muscles.

After leaving the museum, you tried to occupy your mind while you waited, but it was no use. You worried and paced; you stopped yourself several times from going back to him. Even though neither one of you has any clue as to how long this may take, you are worried because it has been hours since you left him.

Unable to wait any longer, though fearful of what you might find, you climb the grand staircase to find Aemond. You gasp as you view his display, realizing that the glass case, which has housed his remains for months, is empty, and some of the clothes you brought lie scattered on the floor. When you see no sign of him, you call out his name.

A faint groan to your left gets your attention. Your eyes go wide with shock when you see a figure with long tousled hair, wrapped in a blanket, huddled against the wall. Crying out his name again, you rush to his side, kneeling on the floor next to him. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you feel flesh and bone beneath the blanket.

“Aemond, are you alright? You ask frantically, worried about finding him in this state.

“Yes, I’m alright.” His reply is weak, and his voice is raspy. Even turning his head toward you appears to be an effort for him. “I have no strength,” he murmurs.

Unable to stop yourself, you rest your palm against his sharp jawline while your eyes take in his face. The first thing you notice is the warmth of his skin instead of the chilling cold whenever you were near him. You can see the blue sapphire fitted in place of his missing eye, as well as the old scar that runs from his forehead down to his cheek.

When you brush a few locks of hair off his face, he gives you a soft smile. His hand reaches up to find yours, weakly wrapping his long fingers around your smaller, more delicate one. You are captivated by the sight of life in his eye, the pinkness of his lips against his pale skin, and his subtle masculine scent.

Stunned that the inconceivable has really happened, you can’t hold back the soft giggle of pure happiness that escapes your lips. “It worked. I can’t believe it,” you whisper in awe.

You hear him breathe a deep sigh, slightly nodding his head. “Thank the gods, it worked.”

“How do you feel?”

“I still feel weak, but I’m alright.”

With your shock wearing off a bit, more practical concerns come to mind. “We need to get you next door. Can you get up?”

Nodding yes, Aemond manages to get to his feet with your assistance, though he continues to lean against the wall for support. As he stands, the blanket slips down, revealing that he is bare-chested. Unaccustomed to seeing a man in any state of undress, you quickly try to avert your eyes, feeling flustered.

“My apologies; I tried to dress, but I felt so weak. I needed to rest for a moment.”

Hoping the warm flush you feel creeping across your skin isn’t too obvious, you try to reply lightly, “It’s alright; at least you managed to get the trousers on.” Risking a glance at him, trying to focus your eyes on his face, you ask, “Can you walk?”

Leaning on you, with his arm around your shoulders and your arm around his waist, the two of you slowly make your way to the residence. As he struggles with the exertion, you find yourself torn between fear of him falling and the sensation of his bare skin beneath your hand. Finally, when you make it to the parlor, you help him ease down on the couch and leave him to rest while you fetch a shirt and slippers for him to put on.

You help him put on the shirt, but not before taking in the soft-looking patch of blond hair in the center of his chest, faded old scars against the paleness of his skin, and his long, lean torso. With your ladylike manner becoming more ruffled by the sight of him, you hurry off to make him some tea.

When you return to the parlor, you have a tray with tea and a plate of food for him. Sitting on the couch with him, careful to maintain a proper distance, you pour two cups, and you feel the need to ask again, “How do you feel?”

He pauses for a moment before answering, running his fingers on the couch's velvet, fascinated by the texture. “Better, though I fear it may take some time for my strength to come back,” he answered distractedly. You watch him look around the room, then at you. “Everything looks so different. To be able to touch things..." He shakes his head, struggling to put his feelings into words.

“I’m sure it will take some time to get used to everything,” you tell him. You take a sip of your tea, trying to reign in your swirling emotions. You’ve sat and talked with Aemond as a ghost for hours, coming to feel quite comfortable in his presence. But being around him as a living, breathing man now makes you feel awkward and a bit on edge.

Aemond is quiet while he drinks his tea and tries some of the different foods on the plate. You weren't sure what to bring him, so you kept it simple, giving him some biscuits, cheeses, and fruit to start with. You can’t help but smile watching him savor the flavors and textures, and the light meal seems to be helping him.

When he’s finished with everything on the plate, he leans back with a satisfied smile on his face. “That was the most delicious food I’ve ever had.” When he turns to look at you, his smile turns into a happy grin.

You can’t help but chuckle at him. “I’m sure you’ve had far better than that, but I’m glad you enjoyed it."

“I’ve mostly forgotten the taste of food; it’s like I’m experiencing it for the first time. Everything feels new to me. I’m not sure if I am making any sense.”

Right now, it's easy to let his wonder and joy in life's simplest aspects sweep you away. And you try to push aside the thought that has creeped into your mind about your beloved father.

Aemond sees your face dim with your sorrow and extends his hand to you, not taking yours, but waiting for you to accept his overture.

You waver for a second before placing your hand in his, knowing that physical contact with him will stir more sentiments in your already tumultuous state, but still craving comfort from your pain.

“Forgive me, I haven’t thought to ask how you are doing with all of this.” His soft spoken voice sounding so soothing to your ears.

For a second, you wonder how the simple act of someone holding your hand can stir so many different feelings inside you.

“My sweet lady, tell me what you are thinking.”

His question unintentionally brings tears to your eyes. “I was imagining my father being here, seeing you alive. He would be inundating you with questions right now; his curiosity was endless.”

Your words are like a knife twisting in his gut. Seeing tears spill from your eyes, Aemond presses his lips together tightly, not trusting himself to speak. He cautiously eases closer to you in a silent offer of consolation.

You cannot resist the urge to lean upon him, resting your head against his shoulder and sobbing. Though you thought you had cried out all of your tears in the days prior, a new flood flows down your cheeks. Whether it’s your grief, the insanity of bringing a ghost back to life, or your growing attachment to him, you do not know or care at this point. You surrender to his embrace and cling to him desperately.

He patiently waits until your sobs subside before tilting your chin up to look at him. “I am with you now, and I will always be with you,” he murmurs before gently pressing his lips to your forehead, letting them linger there for a moment before pulling back with a sigh. “I think you need to rest now.”

Having been awake most of the night, you know your tiredness is playing a part in your very emotional state. Wiping your eyes, you reluctantly ease yourself from his arms.

“You are probably right. I should try to sleep for a bit,” you agree. “Will you be alright?”

“I will be fine. I am feeling stronger already,” he assures you.

Aemond insists on seeing you to your room. Along the way, you show him the guest bedroom, which will be his, and repeatedly ask if he needs anything before you lie down.

“I am no longer helpless, and I can manage on my own for a few hours,” he tells you with a smile as he sees you to the door of your bedroom. “Now please rest.”

After you are in your room, Aemond goes to his guest room. Though he feels stronger than he did, he knows he has not regained his full strength yet. He sits on the edge of the soft bed, looking around at the room's wooden furnishings. He runs his hands over the blankets, trying to remember the feeling of sleeping in a comfortable bed.

Now that he is alone, he allows himself to think of you and what he has done. ‘Hundreds of years later, and you are still the same impetuous boy,' he tells himself with a mirthless smile. ‘This feels like Luke all over again.’

Leaning forward, Aemond rests his head in his hands in frustration. It truly hurts him to see you grieving so much, and it hurts him even more to know that he took someone dear from you. Something he never had, a loving father.

But your father made one fatal mistake; he threatened the one thing that truly stoked terror in him.

“I swear by the Seven, I will have your bones crated up, put on a ship, and dropped into the Narrow Sea if I have to, to protect my daughter from you."

Years spent at the bottom of the lake, fully aware but helpless, was a fate worse than death, one he would not endure again.

When he made that threat, something snapped inside, just like when Luke came to Storm’s End. Then it was the first opportunity to collect payment on a debt owed, and he impulsively seized the chance to quell the rage that had long simmered in him.

Killing your father was just as impulsive and perhaps unnecessary. And now, it is a secret you must never know, because after centuries, he has finally been given the chance to rewrite his legacy, and he intends to have you by his side as his queen.

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