#said about a character from 2 years ago

[harvestmoth]

hi i just read sae’s event and mgs. ow

[clownowo]

been replaying the Portal series I think this is where its heading

[kyouka-supremacy]

(´･ᴗ･ ` )

[sortanonymous]

Wait, they're making another one? Oh-kaaayyyy... Not holding my breath, but hopefully it's at least better than the $h!tshow that was the second movie. (Even if that "version" of Silver is still there.) If it's any consolation, I don't know how much Sega is involved with the Sonic movies, but if it's a good bit, then maybe they can help out! At the very least, there's this amazing comment under the reveal teaser. (GOLDEN ISLAND MENTIONED)

[residentialsinyomakai]

Its so funny thinking about the different things people know me as in the yokai watch fandom. That one person who loves Babblong. The Roughraff guy. The one who drew way too much Casanuva at one point. The one with the goofy aus. One of the three (3) McKraken fans. Or when I used to be a Zote Hollow Knight/Captain Charlie Pikmin account (if you know me from those days DAMN)

[sonknuxadow]

i feel like a movie shadow voice actor reveal might happen soon and i feel like their choice is either gonna be really good or really bad with no in between

[lanayrutower]

i'm about to throw hands with this yt poll.

this is the zelda version of that twitter butch post to me.

[angryborzois]

Finished OFF...that was so messed up

[wordstome]

how c.ai works and why it's unethical

Okay, since the AI discourse is happening again, I want to make this very clear, because a few weeks ago I had to explain to a (well meaning) person in the community how AI works. I'm going to be addressing people who are maybe younger or aren't familiar with the latest type of "AI", not people who purposely devalue the work of creatives and/or are shills.

The name "Artificial Intelligence" is a bit misleading when it comes to things like AI chatbots. When you think of AI, you think of a robot, and you might think that by making a chatbot you're simply programming a robot to talk about something you want them to talk about, and it's similar to an rp partner. But with current technology, that's not how AI works. For a breakdown on how AI is programmed, CGP grey made a great video about this several years ago (he updated the title and thumbnail recently)

I HIGHLY HIGHLY recommend you watch this because CGP Grey is good at explaining, but the tl;dr for this post is this: bots are made with a metric shit-ton of data. In C.AI's case, the data is writing. Stolen writing, usually scraped fanfiction.

How do we know chatbots are stealing from fanfiction writers? It knows what omegaverse is [SOURCE] (it's a Wired article, put it in incognito mode if it won't let you read it), and when a Reddit user asked a chatbot to write a story about "Steve", it automatically wrote about characters named "Bucky" and "Tony" [SOURCE].

I also said this in the tags of a previous reblog, but when you're talking to C.AI bots, it's also taking your writing and using it in its algorithm: which seems fine until you realize 1. They're using your work uncredited 2. It's not staying private, they're using your work to make their service better, a service they're trying to make money off of.

"But Bucca," you might say. "Human writers work like that too. We read books and other fanfictions and that's how we come up with material for roleplay or fanfiction."

Well, what's the difference between plagiarism and original writing? The answer is that plagiarism is taking what someone else has made and simply editing it or mixing it up to look original. You didn't do any thinking yourself. C.AI doesn't "think" because it's not a brain, it takes all the fanfiction it was taught on, mixes it up with whatever topic you've given it, and generates a response like in old-timey mysteries where somebody cuts a bunch of letters out of magazines and pastes them together to write a letter.

(And might I remind you, people can't monetize their fanfiction the way C.AI is trying to monetize itself. Authors are very lax about fanfiction nowadays: we've come a long way since the Anne Rice days of terror. But this issue is cropping back up again with BookTok complaining that they can't pay someone else for bound copies of fanfiction. Don't do that either.)

Bottom line, here are the problems with using things like C.AI:

It is using material it doesn't have permission to use and doesn't credit anybody. Not only is it ethically wrong, but AI is already beginning to contend with copyright issues.

C.AI sucks at its job anyway. It's not good at basic story structure like building tension, and can't even remember things you've told it. I've also seen many instances of bots saying triggering or disgusting things that deeply upset the user. You don't get that with properly trigger tagged fanworks.

Your work and your time put into the app can be taken away from you at any moment and used to make money for someone else. I can't tell you how many times I've seen people who use AI panic about accidentally deleting a bot that they spent hours conversing with. Your time and effort is so much more stable and well-preserved if you wrote a fanfiction or roleplayed with someone and saved the chatlogs. The company that owns and runs C.AI can not only use whatever you've written as they see fit, they can take your shit away on a whim, either on purpose or by accident due to the nature of the Internet.

DON'T USE C.AI, OR AT THE VERY BARE MINIMUM DO NOT DO THE AI'S WORK FOR IT BY STEALING OTHER PEOPLES' WORK TO PUT INTO IT. Writing fanfiction is a communal labor of love. We share it with each other for free for the love of the original work and ideas we share. Not only can AI not replicate this, but it shouldn't.

(also, this goes without saying, but this entire post also applies to ai art)

[igotanidea]

Stuck: Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader

A/N: seriously, I almost titled this chapter "idiot" , XD (and that's also the spoiler alert XD)

part 1 to too much

part 2 : not enough

part 3 : almost there

***

One year ago

„When will you get those irrational thoughts out of your head Y/N?”

“What irrational thoughts?”

“About marriage out of love. No such thing exist in the world, my dear and if you do not start living in reality you shall become a spinster!”

“Mother!” Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the harsh and unjust words. She was still so young and to almost be called an old maid—

“Do not raise your voice young lady. You shall marry this season otherwise you would be putting our noble house in a very compromising position.”

“But-“

“Ah! Do not object your mother Y/N. You’ll do as I say. I know what’s best for you and you shall follow the lead. And that is precisely why you’ll accept when Lord Bridgerton proposes to you.”

“Lord Bridgerton!? Which one!?”

“The viscount, dear.” Her mother fluttered her fan imperiously. “Lord Anthony Bridgerton.”

“There is no possibility that I-“

“Hush!”

“Mother I –“

“You’ll say yes.” The tone of voice became much more commanding, leaving no space for discussion. It was like Y/N’s fate has already been decided.

“And why shall I? Because the viscount has decided he has enough pleasantries exchanged with modistes and actresses and other ladies free of the burden of the title. Because mighty Lord Bridgerton decided it is time to tie bounds with a young noble lady, who will be naïve and foolish enough to look at his antics without as much as a blink of an eye. Who will – dear lord – bear him an heir to the title and be the perfect little wife he would order around.”

“Y/N Y/L/N!” her mother raised from the chaise longue with cheeks flushed due to her daughter impertinence. “You will accept the proposal!”

“I will not!”

“Your father has already made the appropriate commitments!”

“Commitments!?”

“You shall be courted like a young lady should and get married in the fall.”

“Mother!”

“It has been decided. Now, you go and make yourself presentable. Lord Bridgerton has announced his visit in the afternoon.”

***

The visit was a disaster, to use the light words.

It was clear as day that neither Anthony nor Y/N were fully content with this arrangement and subconsciously tried to discourage the other. That way, when one of them would actually break it off, said one would be to blame for the disgrace, that would undeniably fall on both families.

However-

Despite some many character discrepancies they were both pertinacious and individualistic, ready to go the greatest length to have one’s own way. Neither of them was even thinking of surrendering easily.

Therefore, during his first appointment as a suitor Anthony was met with cold stares, minimum exchange of words and very noticeable distance on his future bride’s part.

Immediately matching the atmosphere and repaying in kind, only doubled in intensity.

Getting burned with the tea in response.

Causing a lot of havoc, many fake words of apologies and even more words of assurance that is must have been an unfortunate accident and he holds no grudge.

For obvious reason the time spend in L/N;s household was cut extremely short and Y/N was send to bed without supper to think about her erratic behavior.

Next few visits were no better.

Especially not the one when Anthony and Y/N were to reveal to a wide audience the nature of their acquaintance by strolling on the promenade, beaming with happiness due to their soon-to-be marriage.

“Dear lord, you are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony hissed in Y/N’s ear grabbing her arm with a bit more force than needed “Smile.”

She put on a fake grin when they were passing by some familiar face, but as soon as the woman was gone she turned to Anthony throwing daggers at him.

“Giving me orders already, Lord Bridgerton?”

“Hopefully you can be tempered if we start getting you used to it this early.”

“Oh! Perhaps it should be you to change the perspective my lord. See the real face of a lady you decided to meet at the altar?”

“And here I though your wonderful mother raised you better.”

“Do not dare speak of my mother the ill way!” she almost yelled, almost yanking her hand free from his grip, stopping the walk and challenging him to do something reckless.

“Forgive me.” He became serious in an instant and the words of apologies actually seemed honest. “You are right, I overstepped.”

“Thank you.” She responded with a deep sigh. God knows how much it took for her to stay calm. Regardless of the on-going conflict and differences in views between Y/N and her mother, the young woman would never let anyone offend her family. Not even Lord Bridgerton. And he should know that straight away.

“Perhaps we have started off the wrong foot, Lady Y/L/N.”

“I believe so. Seemingly we have a way to bring out the worst in each other, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Is that a way to tell me I have already seen you on your lowest behavior?”

“Compliments, Lord Bridgerton, you have endured my greatest efforts to cause you dispiritedness.” Despite herself she let out a chuckle.

“I am known for my endurance even in the least favorable circumstances.”

“I shall keep on my efforts, nonetheless.”

“I am deeply convinced that this will be the case”

***

Dearest gentle reader,

It has come to this writer’s attention that the affection between Viscount Bridgerton and young lady Y/L/N is in full bloom.

Despite the initial misunderstandings and noble behavior, that hasn't deceived any member of the ton, even if have been well played, recent news and observation has shown that maybe there's less pretending and more truth to it. 

Much to the ton’s discombobulation, young pair has been seen laughing together while the viscount resorted to courting in the way that resemble his late father and Lady Violet Bridgerton manner.

This writer daresay that no elite member would have ever do as much as dream of Lord Anthony Bridgerton picking meadow flowers for his chosen one while walking in the fields, away from prying eyes. Neither anyone would ever think about the forever dreamer lady Y/l/n actually so close to fulfilling her dream of marrying out of love. Irrational thoughts, as someone may put.

It is yet to be decided whether the on-going courtship between lord Bridgerton and lady Y/L/N will be a source of impending scandal in the society or whether those two will actually succeed in keeping this lovable atmosphere for following years.

After all – real love is not easily found and even less easily kept once the obstacles arise.

***

Now.

“You are to be enthusiastic.” Anthony murmured taking Y/N;s arm and bowing to the passing nobles “Smile.”

Those words brought back some memories and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the history that was in fact repeating itself.

“What is so funny?”

“Your memory does seem so be failing my lord. Won’t you remember the last situation when you told me to express my happiness and contentment to the ton?”

“I—” Anthony cut off, letting out a deep, frustrated sigh.

“Seem like you do after all.”

“Y/N…”

“Been a while since I had to pretend I was content though, given the fact that I truly was, of late.” The hint of sadness and melancholy was not to miss and did not make it easier for Anthony to pursue on the apologies he was tirelessly pursuing.

“Y/N…”

“Good job on choosing the right name since the person, whose hand you are now holding for display seem to be too much for you, my lord. To say the full truth I am fairly surprised you chased me here instead of focusing on spending time with one of your-“

“Don’t you finish that sentence.”

“Oh, I shall not, god forbid. I shall keep the pretenses as any lady married into a good family will.” She send the brightest smile to some kids that were running around, preached by their parents, holding her walls up.

At this point, mockery and distancing herself from the entire unfortunate events, if not fight, was the only way to prevent the emotional and mental breakdown and falling into tears. She was hurt. She was deeply hurt on a level she never thought existed. Anthony’s behavior hit precisely in all the sensitive spots, leaving her overthinking and wailing inside. Reminding her of all the years in her family’s household, being forced to act according to the standards, which she constantly broke, defying all the rules of ossified society and paying a heavy price for being herself despite the odds.

Being called too much, constantly.

Until she met Eloise, which was freeing. Y/N could finally feel like herself, spending a lot of time with Bridgertons.

And then meeting Anthony.

And actually creating a happy story with him, believing she would once and for all be free of the typecasting and tag putting.

But he started behaving in the same way to which she was exposed her entire life.

Too much.

Not enough.

And it made her angry.

“Please do forgive me for not easily being shaped in the wife you want me to be.”

“Shaped? I never wanted you any different!”

“Is that so?” she raised an eyebrow teasingly and it got her furious glance of her husband’s and the tightening bruising grip on her wrist. “you’re hurting me. Again.” The emphasis put on the last word actually made Anthony realize that he was not made of stone, but the words he wished to say were not coming easily.

“Y/N…” he clenched his jaw. She was mocking and challenging him even now, when he was trying to admit he was wrong and trying to apologize for the wrongdoings.

“Yes, my lord?” she took a step back, smiling in that light way that made him even more furious.

 “I believe you wanted to spend time on an intellectual conversation with my sister. Forgive me-“ he bowed in a distant manner reserved for strangers rather than spouses “-for being as impertinent to interrupt ladies’ time. I shall withdraw and leave you to continue on your – surely important- exchange”

And with those words, much to the shock of not only Y/N, but also Benedict and Eloise, who were still following them, Anthony bowed again and started walking away, raising clouds of dust due to the speed with which he rushed off from the place where he left his beloved wife.

Feeling the weight of failure and heartbreak on his shoulders, without a single way to make up for his mistake and keeping the face of a viscount at the same time.

Convinced that she hated him and there was no way to regain her favor and affection.

next part (finale!) : Just right

@pietrawebster @chrissisheadisinclouds @fuzzym4m4 @gloomysel @urfavnoirette @dd122004dd @milkbummm @bevstofu @taniasethi @syraxnyra @christinabae @pandoraneverland @bevstofu @topguncultleader @jana-jaeynneee @myaa21212121 @ziarah @cat-lockwood @leaf-rose-thorn @elissanatok @lily3450 @nervousmumbling @budugu @frickin-bats @sillyfreakfanparty @amberpanda99 @nycthophiliaa @myaa21212121 @bananaadeleigate @everybodystaycalm @fmhcatt @sankareatheundead @cat-lockwood @1potato2rulethemall

[wasitforrevenge]

oh sweetheart

pairing: boxer! ellie williams x f reader au

word count: 1.9k

rating: 18+

warnings: boxer!ellie, drinking, smoking, cursing, creepy guy but ellie comes to ur defense!! ellie has lots of tattoos, fighting, threats, idk if im missing anything (no character description or anything specific)

summary: you didn't expect to meet her on this night out.

authors notes: hi friends! this is my first time writing and posting on here hopefully you enjoy, please reblog, like or follow! lets be mutuals :) anyways feedback and constructive criticism is always welcome and appreciated! ellie williams has me on my hands and knees!!! i hope you enjoy! i like the idea of making this a series if it works out and ppl like it, so pls let m know!! thank you :)

PART 1 | part 2

series masterlist <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

READ: this account stands with palestine, and so— i require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.

loud. everything is loud. the smell of sweat and blood stains the air around you. the sounds of people cheering and shouting towards the center of the large room. the lights are buzzing above you as you are walking into the entrance of the shitty run down gym your brother, jesse, and his girlfriend, dina, ended up dragging you to tonight.

you didn't mind coming along with him but this wasn't what you expected to be doing tonight. after a long shitty week of unpacking your new apartment, you kinda just wanted to end up a hole in the wall bar and drink your stress away but he had other plans. which including watching grown men beat the shit of each other for their cut at the end of the night.

it was intimidating, walking through the crowds of people you didn't know until you finally make it to where his friends were waiting for you guys. they were sitting at a table with a clear shot of the fight which was surprising since the whole place seemed to have more people in it then it could fit. you make your way awkwardly to the empty seats saying a gentle "hello guys" to your brothers friends who you didn't knowl. you sat next to dina as jesse made his way to the bar with your drink orders.

after you graduated highschool, you moved to new york and spend 4 years there working in a small cafe you lived above but now at the start of the summer, still not sure what you should be doing with your life. now you're 22 and you've moved to the city of jackson to be closer to your older brother and his girlfriend. you were excited to start fresh in a place where no one knew you yet, you were ready to leave your old life and those toxic things in the past. but you wondered if it was even possible.

you spend the next hour talking with dina and catching up on the things that have happened since you moved, "have you started looking for jobs yet?" she asked as you both sipped on the second drink of the night that jesse went and brought back a bit ago. you've only met a couple times in person since they started dating about 2 years ago but you loved her, she was making this night a lot better. "not much luck yet, i don't know what to do, luckily i have some time to figure something out." you responded. she went to say something but then the loud speakers around the room started blaring music and the countdown to the match that was about to start.

jesse tapped dinas shoulder to go watch with the rest of them. dinas eyes met yours and asked, "are you coming up?" you started getting nervous as the people started getting louder and crowding towards the center ring and told her that you'll stay here and watch. they both nodded and said they'd be back when it was over.

you took this opportunity to finally go get some fresh air since the crowd isn't all over anymore and it was a straight shot to the door you came in, you walked over to the side of the building, definitely feeling the drinks you had, you let your back rest against the concrete wall, finally cooling you down on this hot summer night. there's people standing outside talking but they payed no attention to you. you stayed against the wall as you pull out the cigarette pack from the pocket of your thin dark green jacket and the lighter out of your back pocket in your jean shorts. you cursed yourself for not buying more but its a bad habit and you know it. you pulled one out and put it in your lips as you brought the lighter up and took a drag, finally letting the anxiety go as you stared off into the sky.

"excuse me miss, you shouldn't be out here alone, a beautiful girl like you," a man with a rough voice said but you didn't move to look, suddenly wishing you never left your apartment to begin with, "hello i'm talking to you, its not nice to ignore people, ya know," he slurred his words as he spoke. you turned your head as you went to tell him to leave you alone but instead, he was standing in front of you before you knew it you dropped your smoke and now he's practically cornered you.

he was so close you could smell the alcohol on his breathe as he spoke again, "now are you gonna talk to-" you leaned away from him as he was interrupted by the sound of a door opening a few feet away, he looked towards it but then turned back to you just as quick, almost touching you as he went to speak again but he was beat to it.

"get off her." you didn't even realize the door had opened until you heard her.

the man looked back towards the door to the figure in the light, he squinted and when he got a good look, he suddenly backed off and put his hands up. "hey hey i wasn't doing nothin- it was nothing!" he shouted back to whoever was next to the still open door, light shining into the alley.

the door slams and the light fades as the figure walks closer towards you and your eyes meet the deep green eyes of the person who just saved you as she turned to the man who was just cornering you against the wall.

"it doesn't look like nothing, i mean, really? you're fucking joking right?" she questioned him as she looked him right in the eyes.

"i said it was nothing- she was flirting with me and-" he was cut off as she laughed loudly. "yeah you're full of shit, get the fuck out of here and don't let me see you again or you'll regret it." she said as she stepped closer towards him, almost at the same height, he looked scared of her. "okay, okay- fuck 'm leaving!" he slurred one last time as he turned around and headed the opposite way of the run down gym.

you stood there as the interaction happened, not sure what to do or say yet, you were silent as he walked off, and those green eyes met yours again and you saw her lips moving as she was speaking but you caught nothing she said. "hey, you okay there?" she asked you as she went to stand in front of you, looking you up and down, checking if you're psychically okay while she gave you a second to process before she asked you again.

"hey sweetheart, you okay?" she asked and grabbed your arm, not in a way that the man would have but like she was actually making sure you were okay, and this time you finally heard her.

"h- yes im okay, just- fuck- yes thank you." you said finally getting a good look at her now that she's up close and touching you. her eyes were greener than you thought, her short auburn hair with some pulled back into a bun, the big moth tattoo wrapped around her right forearm that was still holding onto yours, other tattoos littered her arms and some poking out under her t-shirt she was wearing. she was so close to you and it sent butterflies through your body. now is not the time, you thought to yourself.

"are you sure- 'm sorry that happened, fuck him." she said roughly, not towards you but him.

"its okay, thank- thank you for helping me" you said gently to the girl who was still looking into your eyes. you had been so focused on hers that you didn't even see the tiny scars, small healing cuts and the bruises that were fading until you looked over her face again.

"yeah of course, are you here alone?" she asked you curiously still holding on to you, you weren't even phased by it. you told her you were here with your brother and she nodded her head towards the door, "lets get you back to him before anything else happens sweetheart" she said as she guided you to the door, hand on your back, as you swallowed and went first.

suddenly all the sounds that you had not realized you had been blocking begin again, smells of the sweaty bodies surround you again and you felt too hot, either because of her or the summer heat trapped in here. once you made it inside, she moved her hand off the small of your back and told her to go find your brother and to get home safe. when she walked away, you realized you didn't even know her name.

you saw dina, sitting along with a few of jesses friends and made your way over to her. the match must've ended while you were outside. you walked through the gym to sit back down, moving carefully to avoid touching anyone. once you made it to the table, dina wondered where you had ran off too. "oh just went out to get some fresh air," you said back to her smiling, not wanting her to worry. she told you jesse went to get more drinks and after the encounter outside, you needed it.

jesse came back a few moments later, holding a round of shots for you three. "here you ladies go," he spoke with a happy look on his face. you smiled slightly back and took the glass as dina laughed at him. you took the shot, trying to forget what happened outside with the man but not what happened with her. you wondered if you would see her again. is she here to watch? could she work at the bar? is she here with friends too? your thoughts were interrupted by an announcement over the speaks that the final match was gonna start soon.

dina and jesse were telling you, "its the last one tonight and the last ones are always the best so lets go!" you would rather sit and order another drink, but what if something else happened cause you were alone? so reluctantly you got up with them and got closer to the middle ring, you heard the loud speakers announcing the boxers as they entered the ring. you weren't even paying attention, nothing could stop your mind racing with thoughts about the girl outside.

you shake yourself out of the trance when dina reaches over to you to touch your hands that were shaking but you didn't even realize, you look to her and give her smile that she returns, then she looks back to the ring and you turn your head to follow her eyes to the center. and your breathe caught.

thats her.

thats the girl who saved you outside.

the girl with her hands wrapped in tape and the mouthguard in.

the girl who wondered if she'd ever see you again either, not that you knew that, but she hoped it wasn't the last time.

you wondered what she thought as you both stared back at each other. you heard the coach start the countdown. you just watched her.

...5

...4

...3

...2

as the buzzer started, she smiled directly at you then turned to throw the first punch.

[juniperskye]

Let’s start over.

Sneak peek: Aaron and Reader were together back when she was finishing her bachelor’s degree. It went on for a bit until Aaron started to pull away – after confronting him, you called things off. Years later you return to Quantico to streamline the new child crimes unit which will work directly with the BAU. Aaron is surprised to see you and asks you to dinner…some shocking secrets are revealed. (There are timeline edits to this story to fit my vision okay?!)

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5301

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, keeping a child a secret, Hotch not being the best partner (past), description of BAU and other FBI units – some canon typical subject matter, OC’s Nora (child) Theo and Leila (agents), mention of hospitals, and mention of febrile seizure, mention of Jack, mention of Haley (their relationship timeline was adjusted to make this work – they separated when Jack was like 2-3 y/o) let me know if I missed any!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

** 5 Years Ago, **

“Aaron would you please just tell me what’s going on!” You pleaded.

“Nothing. I told you to just drop it. Nothing is wrong.” Aaron snapped.

Things had been like this for the past few weeks. Aaron was being short with you, snippy about menial things that had never bothered him before. You couldn’t figure out what was going on, it had truly begun to weigh heavily on your relationship.

“We both know that’s bullshit. Why won’t you just talk to me?” You were practically begging him at this point.

“Jesus Christ, would you just let it the fuck go. I said I don’t want to talk. Why is that so hard for you to understand?” Aaron shouted. “Maybe Dave was right.” He mumbled.

“Right about what?” Your voice came out much smaller than intended.

“Maybe you’re too young, too immature. You just don’t understand the stress I’m under.” Aaron huffed out a sigh.

Aaron and you had been together for nearly two years. Initially it had been more of a fling due to the fact that he was teaching a course you were taking to complete your bachelor’s degree. He and you took things to the next level once you’d graduated and now you were about to complete your master’s degree. You loved Aaron, but with how things had been going for the last few months, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough.

“I don’t know if I can do this anymore.” You whispered.

“So what?  We get in a little fight and you’re going to throw a tantrum?” Aaron spat pure venom.

“A tantrum?” You said, exasperated. “Aaron I’m not a toddler kicking and screaming because I am not getting my way. I’m a grown ass woman asking for some healthy communication in our relationship. We haven’t had a real conversation in months, and I don’t think I can go on like this.” You gasped, the realization finally hitting you…this had to end.

“Sweetheart, we can work this out. I’m sorry okay?” Aaron reached for you.

“No…” You took a retreating step, your back making contact with the back of your sofa. “I think it’s too late Aaron. And honestly it’s rich that you called me immature, when you are so emotionally stunted. You refuse to act your own age and talk things through. Instead, you bottle things up and push away anyone who cares about you. I won’t be your punching bag anymore, I have too much respect for myself.” Your tears had finally broken free, trailing down your cheeks clouded with black from your mascara.

“So that’s it then? We’re done?” Aaron scoffed.

“I guess that’s it.” You gasped.

With that, Aaron grabbed his bag and left. Pausing for a second, before shaking his head and making his leave. The moment you heard the lock click, your knees gave out and you collapsed to the floor as sobs ripped through your body. You laid there for what felt like days, broken and devastated by the loss of what you presumed was your forever. He was gone and you’d have to move on, something you weren’t sure was possible in that moment.

** Present Day **

“Hello? … This is she … Oh! Director Cruz … yes I am getting everything ready. … I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity, truly. … Of course, thank you. … Alright, I will see you Monday. … Thank you … Bye.” You were practically buzzing as you hung up the phone.

“Was that bossman?” Hestia questioned.

“Yes it was! He was checking in and making sure I have everything I need before I start on Monday!” You gushed.

“I can’t believe you are moving back to Virginia. I am going to miss you so, so much!” Hestia whined.

“I am going to miss you too! But it’ll only be like a month until you join me…right?” You inquired.

“Yes! My lease is up then and as long as you’re still cool with us staying with you guys until we find our own place, we will be there!” She explained.

“Ummm of course you guys can stay with us! Free childcare…I’d be an idiot to pass that up!” You laughed as Hestia threw a pillow at you.

You were actively packing up your life and preparing to move back to Virginia. You hadn’t been back there in nearly five years. After breaking things off with Aaron and completing your master’s degree, you’d looked into PhD programs around the U.S. and had ultimately decided on the child psychology program at Colombia University, and while New York wasn’t too far from Virgina, it at least put space between you and Aaron. 

About eight months after you and Aaron had broken things off, Nora had come as quite a surprise. Despite the shock that was brought on by your pregnancy, Nora had become the greatest gift you could’ve asked for. Having Hestia around to make up for your lack in baby daddy had brought the two of you incredibly close together.

You had met Hestia in a pretty unconventional way, she was one year into her residency for general surgery, and you had appendicitis. So, she worked hand-in-hand with the surgeon who removed your appendix, and well, the rest had been history. She’s been with you through everything in the last four years, most importantly, she’s helped you raise Nora. You’d been sure to repay the favor, especially within the last year…Hestia’s mom had passed, leaving her 15-year-old sister in her care. The four of you had become your own little family.

“So, what’s your plan tomorrow?” Hestia asked.

“Oh, my parents flew in last week and they drove most of my stuff down on Tuesday. My mom said she wanted it to be set up for us, so we’d be able to move right in, especially since I start work immediately. So, I am just getting the last few things together today and we will head down tomorrow, and I guess we will finish getting everything set up this weekend. They’re staying with me, pretty much until you and Selene can come out. They don’t want me to have to put Nora in daycare.” You explained.

“Aw, I’m so glad they’re able to do that! I know by then you’ll be ready to have them out of your hair, but it is nice that you won’t have to leave her with strangers right away.” Hestia patted your leg. “I do have a question for you though…are you at all worried about running into your ex?”

“I don’t even know if he still works there Hes, it’s a huge place. Who’s to say we even see each other at all?” You shrug.

“You are so full of shit!” Hestia laughs. “Don’t act like you didn’t check to see if he’s still there.”

“Ugh! Yes he’s still the unit chief of the BAU! Of course I looked. And yes. I am terrified, Director Cruz said my unit will most likely work with the BAU more than any other team and I’m not sure I can handle that.” You groaned.

“You can’t avoid him forever babe. Are you going to tell him about Nora?”

“Hes, I don’t even know how I would begin to tell him.” You shook your head. “We ended horribly and she’s four now. What if he freaks out?”

“I mean he might. Hon, you have to tell him, she’s his daughter you know… I don’t think there’s an easy way to do it. Like it’s gonna be ugly no matter what. But at least you’re telling him.” Hestia reasons.

You knew she was right, you had to tell Aaron about Nora, but honestly it could wait. You had an entire unit to run, and you couldn’t let your fear of seeing him and having that conversation distract you from the important work you’d be doing.

Monday came far too quickly. Your parents had been a huge help, and the house was almost completely unpacked. Nora had settled in well with them being there with you both, and you were incredibly grateful to them for supporting you.

You had gotten up early to make breakfast and eat with Nora before heading into the office. When you walked into the FBI building, you made your way to the front desk to get your ID and then headed to the director’s office.

“Welcome! We are so glad to have you and your team joining us at the FBI. Child crimes is something that has needed an official unit for far too long, I am just happy to have you leading it.” Director Cruz greeted you.

“Thank you Director, it is truly an honor to have been asked to lead this team. From my understanding, Theo and Leila will be here tomorrow to begin officially.”

“That’s correct. I want to go over some logistics with you before I show you to your office. As of right now your team will just be the three of you, if we see a need to expand, we will. I am going to assign you and your agents each a specific unit for if you are needed in more than one place. You will be the point person for the Behavioral Analysis Unit and the Sex Crimes Unit, Leila will take point with Violent Crimes and Theo will take point with Cybercrimes. I anticipate that your team will work closest with the BAU and SCU.” Director Cruz explained.

“That all sounds good sir. Are the Unit Chiefs of these departments all aware of our arrival? I just want to ensure they will be prepared to work with us and that there won’t be too much pushback.” You posed.

“I understand. Yes, they have all been informed of your team’s arrival and I have made it very clear that their cooperation is nonnegotiable. At the end of the day, we all have the same goal, so hopefully there will be very little pushback from our agents.” Director Cruz reassured you. “Are you ready to see your office now?”

“Yes sir, thank you.”

Stepping off the elevator onto the sixth floor, you immediately took note of the directory sign listing that the BAU was housed on this floor. It made your stomach churn, knowing that you would most definitely see Aaron every day… not to mention in like the next few minutes.

“Okay so, through this door here is where the BAU is, as I mentioned before. There are two open desks down in the bullpen there for Theo and Leila, and your office is just there. You will be between agents Hotchner and Rossi.” Director Cruz noted as you entered your office. “I’d like to introduce you to agent Hotchner before I let you settle in; I think it is important given how frequently you’ll be working together.”

“Of course, sir.” You nodded.

The ten steps it took to get from your office to his felt like an eternity. You felt sick knowing that you’d have to face the man that had broken you all those years ago. You may have ended things with him officially, but he had truly ended it when he decided that you weren’t worthy of communicating with. At this point you were just hoping that he’d grown up in that area, because you really needed him to take the news of Nora well.

“Agent Hotchner, I have the new child crimes unit chief here for you to meet.” And before Director Cruz could give Aaron your name, it escaped his own lips, framed by his shocked expression. “Oh, you two know each other?”

“Agent Hotchner was a guest lecturer for one of my undergrad courses. He was my inspiration for entering this field.” You supplied.

It wasn’t a total lie…

“Yes, she was a bright student. I’m not surprised to see that she made it to the FBI.” Aaron added.

“Alright then, I will leave you to catch up then.” With that, the Director made his way back to his office.

“How um…how are you?” Aaron inquired.

“I’m well Aaron. I don’t really think anymore small talk is necessary. I should go get settled into my office.” You huffed out a breath before exiting the room.

You made sure to take your time getting settled. Placing some personal things out on your desk and shelves. You had a few plants, some of your favorite pens, some file folders, you hung up your degrees, you organized your psychology books on the shelves along with some law books, and the last, most important detail was a framed photo of you and Nora that you sat next to your lamp.

The day had sped by as you made yourself comfortable on the couch in your office while reading through some emails from other units and some case files of theirs from previous cases to see how they typically ran things. You had been trekking along just fine until a quite knock broke your concentration. Looking up, you weren’t entirely surprised to see it was Aaron standing there.

“I just wanted to check in and see how you were doing. It’s almost eight.” Aaron informed you.

“Oh shit! I didn’t even realize!” You scrambled to check your phone.

“I know that you said small talk wasn’t necessary, and I agree. I would however really like to take you to dinner to catch up, and maybe I can explain some things.” Aaron requested.

“Oh, I um. I’m not sure that’s a good idea…I uh-”

“Please. I really need to explain myself, for how awful I was back then. No excuses, just maybe it’ll help you see my point of view. I’ve worked on myself a lot since then.” Aaron pleaded.

“I have to make a call first.” You conceded.

“Of course. I’ll give you some privacy.” He exited your office.

You quickly called your mom, letting her know that you were going to dinner with a coworker, asking her to take care of the remainder of Nora’s bedtime routine. You also had to inform her you wouldn’t need to be picked up. After which you spoke to Nora wishing her a good night and giving her a kiss through the phone. You then gathered your belongings and met Aaron in the bullpen.

“So, I don’t have my car. My parents are in town, they helped me move, so I left my car with them.” You explained sheepishly.

“No worries, if you’re comfortable with it, I can drive us. I can take you home after as well.” Aaron offered.

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.” You offered a gentle smile.

Aaron gestured you to the elevator and you made your way down to the parking garage. Aaron, ever the gentleman made sure to open the car door for you, both in the garage and again at the restaurant. There was a tinge of sadness that flooded your mind as you noticed where Aaron took you.

It had been your go to for date nights back when you were together. It was a recommendation from Dave – who you couldn’t help but feel a bit of resentment toward given the “too young” comment. You wondered if Aaron brought you here on purpose, and he must’ve picked up on your thought.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I drove us here. I guess it was muscle memory.” He shook his head.

“It’s okay. I’ve missed the food honestly.” You let out a little chuckle.

“I have too. I uh, I haven’t been here since we ended.” Aaron’s voice trailed off toward the end of his statement.

You were relieved that the night hadn’t been filled with awkward silence. It had, however, been a lot of catching up while Aaron avoided the main reason he brought you here and you avoided talking about Nora. You were both saved by the waiter when he came by to get your order.

“Would you like to see the wine list?”

“No thank you. I’ll just have water.” You were quick to answer.

“Water is fine for me also.” Aaron added.

“Are you ready to order your entrees then?”

“I will have the Mezzi Rigatoni, and she will have the Ricotta Cavatelli.” Aaron declared.

The waiter nodded and walked off. You couldn’t help but look at Aaron with a bit of shock. It is what you always ordered, so you couldn’t be mad, but it felt foreign and all too familiar at the same time. He always ordered for you when you used to go out, he used to know you better than you knew yourself…but that was then.

“I’m so sorry – I don’t know why I did that” Aaron was quick to apologize “Maybe coming here was a bad idea. It’s all too familiar.”

“It’s okay Aaron. I was going to order it anyway. Maybe we should talk about why we’re here.” You suggested.

“Of course. I want to explicitly state that I am not trying to make excuses for how I acted then, because I know I was horrible to you in the end. I do just want to give you some insight as to what I was going through at that time. I really want to communicate now what I didn’t then.” He began.

You nodded for him to continue as the waiter brought your food and drinks.  

“So, you know that Haley and I divorced before you and I got together officially. Well once you and I became serious and my time was either spent at work or with you and Jack, Haley didn’t seem to like that. She uh, she tried to fight me for primary custody of Jack.” Aaron explained.

“What? Aaron why didn’t you tell me?”

“Honestly, because I knew you’d take a step back in our relationship. I knew that with how selfless you are, you’d offer to back off and give me more time with Jack and I didn’t want that. I wanted to have you and Jack, so I kept it to myself. Which broke us anyway.” He concluded.

“I really wish you would’ve told me; things may have been different Aaron. I am glad you’re telling me now though.” You desperately wanted to reach for his hand but ultimately decided against it.

Now was as good a time as any, you had to tell him about Nora. He confessed something and it was your turn. And just as you were about to open your mouth, a shrill ring sounded from Aaron’s coat pocket.

“Hotchner. Yes…CCU as well? Yes – I’m with their unit chief now. We’re on our way.” Aaron hung up the phone and looked over at you. “Is your team here in Virginia?”

“Yes, they’re not meant to start until tomorrow.” You provided.

“Call them in, we have a case. Time is of the essence.” Aaron signaled for the check.

The two of you contacted your respective teams as you made your way back to the car. Aaron once again opened your door for you and drove you back to the office. You texted your parents and informed them of the case and asked your mom to let Nora know you’d be home as soon as you could.

30 minutes later you were on a private jet to Chicago with your team and the entirety of the BAU. You had unintentionally sat beside Aaron and began going over the case details with everyone. Aaron had begun explaining the preliminary profile, and you couldn’t help but chime in. Everyone was watching how the two of you riffed and bounced ideas off of one another so naturally.

“Just a reminder, there are new protocols for entry into the crime scene when we are locating the children. We need to follow those exactly to ensure we don’t harm these children more so than they are already. If you have any questions about those procedures feel free to ask me or my agents.” You instructed.

“Right. Now for assignments, Dave, JJ and Theo I’d like you to interview the family of the latest victim –”

“Molly Leland.” You corrected.

“Apologies. Dave, JJ, Theo go to the Leland’s and find out anything you can. Morgan, Prentiss and Leila, you three go to the abduction site, I want to ensure CSU didn’t miss anything. And Reid you’ll be with us at the station to start on the geographical profile.” Aaron finished, gesturing to the two of you.

Six days. It had been six days, and you still hadn’t made any progress on this case. Another child had gone missing, and things were incredibly tense. Both teams had been in the designated room within the precinct going over theories.

“I think we’re looking at this all wrong…” Leila began, “I think the person abducting these kids is younger than initially profiled.”

“Given their disorganization and the lack of consistent victimology, I’d say that’s a pretty plausible theory.” Spencer validated.

“Okay, Leila what were you thinking?” You inquired.

“What if it is a teenager? My thoughts were a kid who grew up in foster care – hence the random victimology. They just want siblings, and that’s why there aren’t any bodies.”  Leila suggested.

“I think she’s onto something. If it was a young adult who was newly alone in the world, they’d be looking to find people to surround themselves with.” Morgan continued.

“Garcia, run a search for kids that just aged out of group homes and foster care.” Aaron called to their technical analyst.

“Within the geographical limits I just sent over to you.” Spencer added.

When your phone rang, you excused yourself from the room, answering the call from your mom. You could immediately tell something was wrong given the slight lilt to her voice.

“Mom, what’s wrong?...Why do you need the children’s Tylenol. … Fever? What’s her temperature? … 103? MOM! You need to take her to the ER. … I’m serious! … I’m coming home. … Yes! … I’ll be there as soon as I can. … Take her straight to Bethesda. …Ok. Bye.”

You turned and jumped in surprise at Aaron standing there behind you.

“I just came to let you know we’re splitting up to check out a few leads. Is everything okay?” He asked.

You could tell he had more questions and that he’d more than likely heard the entirety of your conversation but was holding back in asking them.

“Um no. My daughter is sick. She has a pretty high fever. I uh, I need to get home.” You panicked.

“Okay. We will get you home then. I’ll send the teams out and I will make some calls. For now, just try to stay positive okay?” Aaron had always been the calm in the storm.

He sent three separate groups out to find the unsub and had made a few calls back to the director to get you on an emergency flight home. He went as far as to drive you to the hotel and then to the hangar.

“Aaron.”

“Get home to your daughter.” He offered a small smile.

“Thank you.”

Leila had texted to update you that they had caught the unsub and would be heading home in the next hour or so. You had been grateful that the team had successfully closed the case. What was killing you, was the state of your baby girl. She had an excessively high fever, and it just wouldn’t break.

“Miss, there’s someone here to see you.” The nurse informed you.

You looked over at your mom who gave you a nod and you exited the room. Following the nurse to the waiting room, you were surprised to see Aaron standing there.

“I just wanted to see how she’s doing, and how you are.” He declared.

“I um. I’m…” You couldn’t help but break down.

Aaron immediately pulled you into his arms and moved you both over to a couch in the waiting area. He let his hand brush over your hair and whispered reassurances to you. The two of you sat like this for a while before you slowly pulled away.

“Sorry. She just has this fever, and it won’t break, and they don’t know what’s wrong.”

“Sweetheart it’s okay. She will be okay.” Aaron grabbed your hand.

A moment went by and then an alarm sounded. Your gaze shot up as you watched medical staff make their way to Nora’s room. You got up and ran to her room, with Aaron hot on your heels.

“What’s happening? What is going on? Somebody tell me what is going on!” You were practically shouting as Aaron pulled you from the room.

Your mom was pacing in the hallway as Aaron held you back from storming back in. It was killing him to see you this distraught.

“It was a febrile seizure. This can happen when children have such a high fever. We’ve given her a sedative to try and help her rest and we pushed some more Tylenol to aid in breaking the fever.” The doctor explained.

“Is she going to be okay?” You questioned.

“We’re doing everything we can. A nurse will be by soon to take her temperature again.” The doctor walked away.

“I’m going to go find your dad. That way you two can have some privacy.” Your mom said pulling you into a hug.

“This is Nora.” You told Aaron as you ran your hand over her forehead, brushing her curls away from her face.

“She’s beautiful.” He complimented.

You sat in silence for a bit with him just watching Nora. You could tell part of him was itching to ask, but you also knew that Nora was a bit small for her age so he couldn’t be sure that she was his. This moment of avoidance was terminated the second the billing staff came in to get all of your information.

“Hey there, I wanted to confirm all of the info for billing. Do you have your driver’s license and insurance card?” The staff requested.

“Yes, here it is.” You passed her the card.

She filled in all of your information, clicking away on her keyboard while the rest of the room sat with a looming silence. You could feel the question coming. You had been an idiot to give Nora her father’s last name.

“Okay and can you confirm the patient’s name and date of birth for me?”

“Yes, it’s uh…Nora Leigh Hotchner. That’s H-O-T-C-H-N-E-R. Date of birth is 10/4/2019.” You could feel Aaron’s gaze burning into you.

“Alright, here are those cards back. Thank you.” She made her leave.

“Seriously?”

“Aaron, let me explain.”

“Not here.” He motioned toward Nora.

He swiftly made his way out of the room, and you were quick to follow. In noticing your parents, you signaled for them to sit with Nora as you practically chased after Aaron. He didn’t stop until he was in a private waiting room, it was only then that he turned to face you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s mine? And what, you didn’t think to tell me…I don’t know, FOUR YEARS AGO?” Aaron was fuming.

A part of you understood his response, but another part of you was furious that he wasn’t allowing you to explain before flying off the handle.

“Don’t yell at me. If we’re going to do this, we will talk like adults. I will not sit here and allow you to berate me.” You held your ground.

“Okay.”

“I found out I was pregnant after I left for New York. And at that point Aaron, I was so devastated by our breakup, and I just didn’t think I could be around you. I know that’s not fair, but I had thought you and I were forever and then we’d just ended. I was going to tell you last week at dinner, but then we got called in. Aaron I am so sorry, and I know that doesn’t make up for the time you’ve lost, but I also need you to know that I did what I felt like I had to do.” You let your gaze fall to the floor in guilt.

“I understand. I’m not happy, but I get it.” He reached for your hand.

You accepted the gesture and furthered it by pulling him into an embrace. He wrapped his arms around you and rested his head atop your own.

“I’ve told her about you.” You whispered.

“What?”

“I’ve told her about you. She’s seen pictures and heard stories. She knows you Aaron.”

He held you a little tighter and you nuzzled a little closer. After a few moments he suggested that you both get back to your girl. You both sat with her all night, letting your parents go home. At three in the morning, the night nurse gave you the good news, her fever had finally broken. The next day, Aaron drove the two of you home, leaving with a scheduled family day where you would introduce Jack and Nora. You had also discussed talking to the kids about their birthday party (since their birthday’s are only 3 days apart). With Jack turning seven and Nora turning 5 in a little more than a month, you wanted to plan something big for the two of them.

** One Month Later **

“Okay, the bounce house is set up and the petting zoo guy just arrived. Where should he set up?” Penelope asked.

“On the southeast side!” Dave hollered.

You were setting up the last of the hors d’oeuvres, while the members of both the CCU and BAU helped get Dave’s backyard set up for the kids birthday party. You were so incredibly grateful for this family you’d come to have.

“We’re here with cake!” Hestia announced.

“Hes! Selene! Hey guys, you can set that up on that round table over there.” You pointed.

Selene came over and gave you a hug, you snuck a snack into her hand and nodded over to your bag.

“My iPad is in there with the Twilight movies all downloaded. Dave has a sitting room down the hall to the right.” You winked at her.

“Thanks mom!” Selene said hugging you once more before heading off.

“Do you have another kid I don’t know about?” Aaron joked, wrapping his arms around you from behind.

“Ha ha! No, Selene just calls me mom. We’ve both taken care of her since their mom passed, but it became an inside joke that I acted as the mom to Nora, Selene and Hestia.” You huffed a laugh.

“It’s true!” Hestia confirmed, before taking a case of juice boxes outside to the cooler.

“You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to it.” Aaron murmured, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Opposed to what?” You giggled.

“More kids.”

“Aaron! We only just got back together, and we are at our children’s birthday party! Behave yourself.” You hissed.

“I know, but this time around, I’m not letting you go. I plan on marrying you and I just want you to know that I’m open to more children, one day, when and if you’re ready.” He punctuates it with a kiss to your lips.

“Well, I’m open to it too. And whenever you ask, my answer is yes Aaron. You’ve proven to me that you’ve grown since we ended before and I can’t stand the thought of going without you again so, I’m in this, for as long as you’ll have me.” You kissed him once more before carrying a tray outside to the party.

Aaron smiled and grabbed his phone, opening it to check the status of his order. There on his screen was confirmation that your ring had been customized, made, sized, quality checked, and would be shipping out soon.

He couldn’t wait to spend forever with you.

[humanpurposes]

August

Part 2: Tell Me What You Want

You and Aemond are getting closer. Things aren't so hostile but there's a new kind of tension between you and it's starting to get unbearable.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader // Modern AU

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist // Read on AO3

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected p in v sex, sexual tension, competitive siblings

Words: 8k

A/n: thank u for waiting everyone, I had a rough few weeks of character building 😙 This is a three part series so one part to go

Nights like these come straight from a song, a music video from your favourite band, a moment in a book that stays with you for weeks, months. Crackles and pops come from the fire, smoke and embers rise into an inky sky dotted with stars. In a few months you’ll be looking back on the memory, wishing you could have bottled this feeling, or let it drag its feet so it would never have to end.

The wine has gone to your head. You’re blissfully fuzzy, your mouth slightly numb, a sickly sweet taste lingering on your tongue. Helaena and Aegon are in hysterics over something Daeron has said, a joke from years ago that the siblings had all forgotten until now. Even Aemond cracks a rare smile. You’re sat beside him tonight, leaning against his arm. His hand sneaks its way onto your thigh underneath a blanket, tracing patterns on your bare skin, dangerously close to the hem of your shorts.

The light from the fire looms over his face and you watch him like you did on the beach below Dragonstone. His smile is less refined than the rest of him. You’re not sure what makes you think this. Maybe it’s because he tries to hide it and shrink into himself. Maybe it’s because his mouth is a little crooked and you’re not used to seeing his teeth. 

He turns his head to look down at you. Your heart is frantic in your chest; his nose is so close to yours. You could tilt your head a little further and capture your lips with his, but you won’t, not in front of Helaena and the others.

His eye glances across the fire at his siblings. “Ah,” he mutters under his breath, understanding your hesitation.

You allow your head to settle against his shoulder, adjusting your body, letting yourself mould into the shape of him. “This is nice,” you say with a sigh, just loud enough that only he will hear.

“Hmm,” Aemond says, the sound of his voice and the steady beat of his pulse humming through your chest and limbs. You wonder what he’s thinking about, what’s happening behind that beautiful eye.

Settled against Aemond, a different sort of tipsy ensnares you. Your eyelids are heavy, your body feels at ease. You start to worry if you don’t get to bed soon you won’t make it at all.

Aemond nudges you softly. “You’re falling asleep there, darling.”

Darling.

“I think I should go upstairs,” you mumble.

“Come on,” he says, whisking away the blanket so the mild air jabs at your skin. His body is gone, his warmth is gone, but he’s standing above the bench, holding out his hand for you to take.

When you stand you stumble a little. Aemond’s hand clasps around your wrist to steady you. Your eyes meet his and you giggle to stifle your nerves.

“Lightweight” Aegon calls.

“Piss off,” you return with a grin as Aemond walks you towards the patio doors.

Somehow your arm finds its way to become intertwined with Aemond’s. He leads the way through the gold accents, tall windows and mirrors of the west gallery, but with the light gone it takes on a gloomier, eerier air, darkness reflected into darkness, broken by the chandeliers overhead. You gaze up at the soft light and sparkling crystals. In the morning you’ll probably have an awful hangover, but for now everything around you takes on a fascinating sort of beauty. You hardly realise you’re losing your balance and falling into Aemond. 

He holds your hand as he guides you up the stairs, along the route towards the east wing. When you come to the corridor where your room is, Aemond’s arm snakes around your waist. His fingertips linger softly against your skin, above your shorts where your top has ridden up a little. You don’t mind– gods, he could do anything to you and you wouldn’t mind. 

With this thought, you look at him. Your legs move slowly but synchronised, one slow step after another. You lift a finger and trace it along the length of his nose, down to the little cleft at the tip.

He huffs a laugh. “What?”

“I like your nose,” you say.

“Thank you.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“I like you being honest.”

You both come to a halt when you reach the end of the corridor and the door to your bedroom. Aemond’s hand slips from your waist but he lingers, watching you, his eye roaming over your face. You don’t quite reach for the door handle yet.

“You didn’t have to walk me,” you say. It’s not dreadfully far to get from the garden to the moat room, and besides, you know your way around Dragonstone now.

“I didn’t have to.” Aemond takes a step into you, placing a wide palm at your side and guiding your back against the wall. He sighs slightly as he exhales and excitement floods in your gut. “Maybe I just wanted to get you alone.”

What can you possibly say to that? The lowness of his voice has rendered your mind useless. But you’ve been wondering if that’s what he thinks when he looks at you. It’s hard to tell with Aemond. His pupil is blown wide, wine, darkness, wanting. His lips are parted and each breath he takes is a gentle stroke of air on your skin.

“You could have just said,” you utter.

His hand tightens at your waist. “Now where would be the fun in that?”

His lips are curled at the corners and it’s just too inviting. He inches closer into you and like a jolt of electricity has sparked in your bloodstream, you surge into him. You melt into one another so effortlessly, lips and tongues, his hands on your sides pulling you into him, your arms around his neck and your fingertips teasing his hair.

It’s been inevitable, hasn’t it? All his smug glances, the way he catches your eye in a crowded room or across the garden. It’s pure energy, hot and visceral, every part of you overwhelmed and yet craving more.

He pauses for a breath and kisses you again, then pauses again. He makes a humming sound in his throat and squeezes your body in some kind of finality before he steps away.

You don’t understand it. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, of course you haven’t,” he says quickly. He takes a breath and runs his hand through his hair, his gorgeous, gorgeous hand. “I just… it wouldn’t be fair on you right now.”

You frown. You know you’ve pushed past your usual limit of drinking, and Aemond seems at ease, not in a state where he should be questioning his decisions. But then that probably makes him the sensible one and you haven’t realised how far gone you are.

“No, you’re right,” you say, unable to look away from his eye.

Aemond swallows thickly. “I want to, I really want to.”

“Me too,” you say, heart starting to sink, or is that just the wine?

“Gods, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you’re reaching for the collar of his t-shirt, pressing your fingertips into the fabric and the hard points of his collarbone underneath, “we can be grown ups about this.”

He curls his hand around your wrist. “We get on, don’t we?”

You shrug, hoping he’ll think you’re not that bothered. “I think so.”

“And I think we could have some fun together.”

“Fun?” 

“When we’re both in the right mind.” He lifts your hand away from his chest and brings it to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss against your knuckles. His eye stays fixed on your face, bright blue and hypnotising. You watch his lips, savouring the feeling of them against your skin. You could pull him into you, beg him to kiss you until you can’t breathe…

“Because you’re cute,” he says with a soft click of his tongue.

“Cute,” you repeat.

He leans in to peck your lips. It’s quick, nice, cute.

“Sleep well,” he says and turns away, wandering idly along the corridor. 

“You too,” you say after him, finding your voice feeble and quiet. Before he disappears from your sight you throw open the door to your bedroom and hide yourself away inside.

Back against the closed door, you breathe and clasp your fingers over your mouth to hide your smile from the empty room.

The next day you skip breakfast, needing a lie-in, some painkillers and a large glass of water, provided by Helaena knocking on your door long after you’re usually awake. 

“I didn’t think you were that bad last night,” she says, opening one of the windows.

“I’m not usually a wine drinker, maybe that’s what killed me off,” you grumble, wincing at the light she lets in. Maybe it’s the wine, maybe you just need the sleep, maybe it’s the image you’ve been replaying of Aemond’s body pressing into yours and his vague promise floating around in your head. “I think we could have some fun together…”

You snap yourself out of that pretty quickly considering his sister is perched on the edge of your bed.

“And Aemond walked you up, that was nice of him.”

Apparently there’s no escaping it. “Yeah, it was.”

“So… he was all over you in the garden last night.” When you drag yourself to sit up Helaena is looking eagerly at you.

You blurt out without even thinking, “nothing happened.” You need to get it off your chest, but saying it out loud you don’t feel especially relieved, more embarrassed.

“No of course not,” Helaena says with a mischievous grin. “But you’ve been rather friendly with each other since your little misunderstanding.”

Enough for his siblings to notice at the very least. “It’s not weird, is it?”

“Is what weird?”

You tilt your head with a pleading look. 

“Oh babe,” she says. “No, not weird at all. If anything it’s a little obvious, Aegon’s been waiting for the penny to drop for weeks.”

You cover your head with your hands and groan. For you, attraction, liking someone, has always come with a sense of humiliation. Your friends don’t get your type, and while Aemond is a little unconventional for you he fits the bill well enough, tall, smart, not too boisterous. He also just happens to be pretentious but subtle and perhaps even sweet… the more you think about him the deeper you’re digging yourself into this hole. 

Healena is clearly in hysterics but is trying not to laugh too much to spare you. “It’s cute actually, Aemond’s been a bit… well it’s nice to see him being excited about something for once.”

Once you’ve regained a bit of composure and gotten over the fluttering feeling in your chest, you say, “he kissed me last night.”

“Liar! What happened to ‘nothing happened’?”

“I thought maybe he was a bit drunk.”

“Are you joking? He looks at you like a lost puppy.”

“Please don’t tell me that.”

“No look, here’s what you do. You and him are living under the same roof for another, what, two weeks? What have you got to lose? Live a little, flirt with him, and don’t overthink it.”

If only ‘don’t overthink it’ was a sentence that could actually compute in your brain. 

You’re lying in a lounger by the pool in one of your bikinis, having moved on from Crime and Punishment to Frankenstien. Your body is lathered with suncream, the scent of artificial coconut clinging to your skin. The sun makes you sweat, but you’re enjoying the position you’re in.

Then you take a breath and you smell the cigarette smoke.

You don’t move your head too obviously, your sunglasses hiding where your eyes are looking, but you see Aemond at the edge of the patio, as close as he can get to you without stepping onto the grass. He’s dressed in a black t-shirt and shorts, sunglasses perched on his nose as he watches you. Even from a distance his gaze burns into your skin, you can feel it writhing there.

You wish you could be closer, so you could hear his inhales and exhales, see the flexes of his hands as he lifts the cigarette to his lips, the pout as he blows smoke into the air. It’s intoxicating. It’s infuriating.

He disappears into the house before you’ve reached the end of your chapter. You tut to yourself, furious you hadn’t read the lines fast enough so you could accidentally run into him on your way inside. You swing your legs round and slip on your pair of sandals. “Don’t overthink it,” you whisper to yourself. So what if he looks but never comes over? So what if he left whatever this is between you as a wine-fuelled kiss outside your bedroom? When all he had to do was open the door, lay you down on the bed. You would have said yes, sober or not. Would he?

Don’t overthink it. Whatever happens happens.

You leave your towel and book by the pool, but you need a drink to fight off the dry feeling in your mouth. Or maybe you’re just restless. Maybe you need something else to do than sit around and wait.

You go into the kitchen, thankful to see there isn’t anyone around. No Criston sitting at his laptop, no Alicent leaning on his shoulder. There’s noise coming from the staff kitchen, tonight’s dinner prep, which won’t be served for a good few hours. 

In the fridge you find an array of drinks, all sorts of iced teas and flavours of lemonade all in glass bottles. You pick the first thing you see, something pink and labelled as raspberry flavoured. As you’re digging through a drawer trying to find a bottle opener, you hear a few soft footsteps against the tiled floor. There’s a faint scent of cigarettes and aftershave.

“Want some help?” Aemond says.

Conveniently, you close your fingers around the bottle opener. “No, actually, I’m all good,” you say, turning around to flick off the metal cap. 

His eye follows your hand as you place the cap and the opener down on the counter, as you bring the bottle to your lips and take a small sip so that the drink doesn’t fizz.

He’s a friendly distance from you, not close to touching you, but every muscle in your body tenses. You’re so aware of everything he does, the subtle change in his gaze, how his eye darkens as he tilts his head down to look at you, how he holds his mouth, how his nose twitches ever so slightly when he breathes.

And you’re painfully aware of how indecently dressed you are, how good you thought you looked when you last checked your reflection, a bead of sweat trailing down the side of your neck. Can he see it? Does the heat drive him to restlessness too?

“This is nice,” he says, looking over the bikini, a shade of blue that compliments your complexion perfectly. You see his hand twitch at his side. 

Is he thinking about touching you? Is he desperate to pull you in like he did the other night?

“Do you think so?” you say, leaning back on one hand against the counter, waiting for his eye to come back to yours. “You’ve never complimented any of my outfits before, Aemond.” 

His eye seems to light up when you say his name. “Doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate them.”

You take another casual sip from the bottle, watching how his throat bobs when he swallows. 

He takes another step forward. He’s testing the waters, you realise, seeing how close he can come before you squirm. You take your weight off your hand on the counter, closing the distance by just another fraction.

“Did you think about me last night?” he mutters. You’re close enough that you can hear him, even when he speaks under his breath. 

“After you left me standing outside my bedroom door?”

He raises a brow.

“Maybe I did.”

“I thought about you,” he says.

“But you didn’t do anything about it.”

With one more step he’s pressed against you, the counter digging into your lower back. Aemond puts his hand at your waist, his thumb resting on your front, not firmly, but noticeable. Your breath hitches.

Aemond smiles to himself. “I said we should both be in the right mind, and you agreed, didn’t you?” His hand trails, moving down to the waist of your bikini bottom. He slips two fingers under the fabric, sliding them up, along the conjuncture of your thigh and your hip. 

You dig your teeth into your lower lip for a moment, determined to keep your composure, desperate to deny him the satisfaction even though it’s already written all over his face. He can see you’re breathless, that your heart is racing in your chest.

The pull to him is like gravity, something that binds the world together, crushing and impossible to deny. 

He leans over your, his lips hovering by your ear, circling an arm around your middle. You can smell the beads of sweat on his neck, the scent of his shampoo, something naturally him that you think will linger in your mind for a while. “So why don’t we stop tip-toeing around each other and enjoy the rest of the summer?”

Why shouldn’t you? Really, why? It’s been so long since you felt a draw like this, since you felt wanted. He’s grovelled enough surely and something about his mask of perfection slipping to reveal something primal and reckless, excites you. Proud Aemond Targaryen, digging his hands into your flesh, grazing his lips over your ear, your jaw–

Your eyes flicker to the door. Daeron’s standing in the doorway in his tennis gear, face pink and sweat dripping from his silver hair.

Aemond notices you’ve frozen. He slowly pulls away and glances over his shoulder. His posture instantly shifts. 

“Alright, kids?” Daeron says, shoulders swaying as he walks into the kitchen.

Aemond’s standing in front of you, nudging you with his hand to keep your body concealed behind his. From over his shoulder you watch Daeron take a bottle of iced tea from the fridge. He opens the cap on the side of the counter.

“Don’t stop on my account. I’m not even here.” Daeron chugs from the glass bottle, making a smacking sound with his lips and taking a breath with a smug “ah!” when he pulls it away from his mouth.

Aemond turns to face you. “Thinks he’s so fucking funny.”

Daeron shoots you a wink. With the moment firmly crushed under his younger brother’s Asics tennis shoes and Adidas socks, you slip from Aemond’s grip.

“I’m gonna get my book,” you say.

Aemond angles his brows like he’s begging you to stay, but he lets you go out to the garden without much more of a fight.

His lingering stares and double takes are becoming more brazen now.

You sit with your parents that night at dinner. Your father tells you about the golf club on the neighbouring island of Driftmark, which Corlys Velaryon is insisting the men should all go to visit sometime this week. It’s not far, a quick journey on one of the yachts. Your mother had gone into the town today with Alicent and shows you the photos she took of some adorable clay figures of animals and seashells in a local craft shop.

This doesn’t seem to deter Aemond at all. He’s where he usually is, at the head of the table, looking over at you every so often while Helaena speaks at length to him. You catch snippets of this one-sided conversation, sea birds and prey, wingspans and something about dinosaurs?

The distance between you is starting to feel unbearable.

After dinner Aegon leads you and the others to the library where he rummages through a floor to ceiling shelf of DVDs.

You and Aemond find yourselves sat together on the same sofa, with space for an extra person between you. Helaena is elated when she finds Dreamfyre the cat curled up on one of the arm chairs, scooping her up into her arms and hugging her close to her chest like a teddy.

Daeron takes the other arm chair, his arms full of snacks. He throws a packet of salted popcorn at Aemond and it hits him on the blind side of his face. “Fuck, sorry.”

Aemond turns his head to you and gives you a pointed look. 

You tilt your head. Ignore him, you think, then realise the absolute insanity of thinking that Aemond can hear what you’re saying in your head. You huff through your nose, a smile on your face, and shuffle closer to Aemond so you can claim the popcorn. The fact that you’re sidled up to him and his arm has found its way around you to get more comfortable is a happy coincidence. 

“A-ha!” Aegon presents his finding like it’s an ancient heirloom; a copy of American Psycho. 

Helaena groans. 

“It’s a masterpiece,” Aegon insists.

“Yeah, I so want to spend my evening watching some self absorbed investment banker brutally murder women.”

“Even if he’s played by Christian Bale?”

Helaena does a double take of the DVD cover. “Put that shit on right now.”

As Patrick Bateman goes through his psychotically perfect skincare routine, does crunches to the sounds of screaming women and lodges an axe in Jared Leto’s face to ‘Hip To Be Square’, you and Aemond melt into one another. It hits you how settled you feel lying against Aemond’s chest, your ear against his ribcage so you can feel his heartbeat, your head rising and falling with his breathing. His fingers start to trace over your arm, up and down, lulling your mind until you’ve forgotten to be nervous about being so close to him, so self conscious that you might be in the wrong position, how your cheek might look slightly squashed against him.

It’s not very ‘Letterboxd enthusiast’ of you to be thinking less about the film, instead wondering if Aemond will walk you to your room tonight, if he’ll kiss you again, if he’ll ask to come into your room and shed the simple layers of your t-shirt and jeans.

You press your lips together. You haven’t touched any wine tonight, and neither has he. 

Once the credits have started rolling you sit up, noticing how stiff your body is having been in the same position for the entire length of the film. You stretch your arms out and catch Aemond looking at you, trying to hide a smile.

Aegon, Helaena and Daeron are arguing about the next film.

“Scream.”

“Aegon, please, no more horror.”

“But Matthew Lillard!”

“What?” You say, meeting Aemond’s eye.

He makes that cryptic humming sound again. “Feel like going to bed?” He says quietly.

Your stomach drops, but you want to play this cool. Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink it. “Whose?”

Aemond half smiles. “Mine.”

You make your excuses. Aemond makes his. As soon as he shuts the door to the library the boys start howling like dogs.

Your heart is racing. Every part of you is screaming at you, begging for more contact, to have that beautiful eye on you again.

“Sorry about my family,” Aemond says, running his hand through his hair. You’re trying to pinpoint the notes of his aftershave, sweet and dark, like black coffee and honey. “As you can see they’re all very good at minding their own business–”

Your hands are on the sides of his jaw, against the gentle sharpness of his silver stubble, pulling his lips into yours. 

Aemond immediately offers you his hunger. It takes you off-guard for a moment, how he grabs at your waist, pushing his body against yours so he can devour you how he wants to. His mouth moves down to your neck and you sigh without meaning to.

“Moaning for me already?” he teases, dragging his teeth over your skin.

“You fucking wish,” you say but your voice sounds utterly pathetic at the feeling of his hands on you, your hips, the backs of your thighs, cupping between your legs. “Aemond…”

“Sorry, I’m getting carried away,” he says, kissing up along your cheek and your temple. He pulls away from you, pupil blown wide in the darkened corridor, roaming your not quite flattering David Bowie t-shirt. He reaches for your hand and presses a peck against your knuckles.

You let him lead you towards the east wing, to the corridor where you’d usually part ways if you were going to your own bedrooms. Once you’ve gone past the door that would lead you back to the moat room, you start to feel lightheaded, disorientated. Somehow it feels nice.

Your heart beats more furiously with every door you pass. You don’t know which one will lead to his room, but there’s one at the very end, which he seems to be eyeing.

“Aemond?” You’ve stopped walking.

He grips your hand tighter. “Yes?”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

“Oh. No, that’s fine.”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t– don’t say sorry. Fuck, I should be the one apologising, I didn’t– I thought you wanted to?”

Seven hells, I’ve made it awkward. He hasn’t misread you, you’ve played into everything he’s given you, but something’s still holding you back. His grip on your hand is getting loose, his gaze is dropping. The moment is slipping and you can’t let it happen.

“Wait,” you say, reaching for him. Your fingers close around his forearm, slim but strong. “I don’t know, I’m not great at asking for what I want.”

His eye comes to yours, determined, more intense than you think you’ve seen before. “That’s alright. You can tell me, what do you want to do?”

You take a moment to consider, your eyes tracing the curve of his lips, the shape of his nose. You hold your breath so you can listen to his. You want this. You want this. You want him. “I want to kiss you more.”

He takes your hands in his, circling his thumb over the delicate skin of the inside of your wrists. “Yeah?”

“And, I want to be near you.”

He lifts your right hand and replaces his thumb with his lips. A surge of wanting shudders through your limbs. “And?”

You close your eyes and whisper. “And I want you to make me come.”

He smiles against your skin. “How do you want me to do that?”

“With your mouth,” you say. You feel his fingertips at the pulsepoint of your left wrist. You love watching his hands, you can picture them perfectly in your head. “And your fingers.”

“There’s a good girl,” he says.

Aemond steps away from you, opening the door and inviting you inside. You weren’t sure what you were expecting from his room but this seems about right, dark wood panelled walls like the rest of the rooms in the house. The curtains are wide open, overlooking the front of the house and you’re high up enough that you can see the sea, or you would in the daylight. He has bookshelves, mostly full of fantasy novels, children’s books. He explains most of these are from his summers spent here as a kid, plus a few text books, Comparative Politics, The History of Philosophy…

“The impressive collection of classics is at my place in King’s Landing.”

“I’m sure it is impressive,” you say. You wonder if you’ll ever get to see it.

He has a vanity, a hairbrush, a few bottles of aftershave, face serums and deodorant all placed neatly underneath a mirror. He has posters on the walls, all in black frames and hung in an orderly fashion, of sci-fi shows and movies and bands that were popular ten years ago. There’s another stack of shelves by the wardrobe with trophies, plaques, medals, photographs of Alicent with four silver-haired children, a certain little boy with a tennis racket in his hands, another with a fencing mask under his arm.

“I haven’t changed the room much,” he mutters.

“It’s adorable,” you say.

His arms circle around your middle, pulling you in close so he can kiss your neck again. “You’re moaning again,” he says when you let out a heavy breath.

“No I’m not, I’m just breathing.”

“Liar,” he teases. One of his hands slides along your body to your rear and he squeezes you through your jeans. 

When you catch a glimpse of a silver chain under his collar you’re suddenly insatiable. Your hands are clawing at his t-shirt and he wastes no time in pulling it off, coming back to kiss you like he cannot bear to be parted from you, and kissing him feels as perfect as it did that night when you both tasted like wine. 

You don’t care where your clothes fall, which pile of fabric is his, which is yours. He lays you down on the bed with a gentle but commanding grip on your neck. He kisses you over and over again, grinding a growing hardness between your legs against the fabric of your panties. He smothers you, his bare body sinking against yours, your lips grazing against his skin, your legs parting to make room for him, desperate for the friction. 

He works his way down, trailing his tongue along your throat, kissing your bare chest, teasing your nipples with his lips, tongue and teeth. Maybe you are moaning. The thrill of it echoes through your body and serves to stir the wanting in your belly, the tightness that’s going to drive you insane.

He keeps kissing down, pausing when he comes to your panties. He looks up at you, lips parted, your fingers starting to slip into his hair. “Look at you,” he says. “You’re so hot when you’re needy.”

He’s barely touching you and you can’t take the teasing.

He doesn’t keep you like this forever. He kisses around it, the soft skin of your inner thighs before he finally, finally pulls your underwear down your legs. He starts slowly, gently, each swipe of his tongue tortuous and divine. 

And usually your mind would wander. You’d try so hard to focus on the pleasure, think of some depraved scenario so you could actually come. Aemond commands your attention and you can’t bring yourself to look at anything other than the sight of his mouth working against your cunt, the obscene sounds he makes, the roughness of his voice when he stops to remark how wet you are, how good you’re doing for him.

Your grip of his hair tightens. You don’t worry if it will hurt him, not with the way he whines when you do, how his body jerks as he tries to grind his hips into the mattress. 

It’s too much and it’s perfect. It builds and builds until it bursts and the pleasure tears through your body. Aemond holds your legs apart to see you through it, until you’re shaking and begging him to stop.

When he lifts his head he’s as breathless as you are, his brow dewy with sweat. “How was that?”

“Good,” you say, then decide that isn’t quite enough. “Really fucking good.”

Aemond smirks. His eye stays on your face as the tip of his middle finger rests at your entrance. As soon as he slips inside, your body is weightless. You could almost laugh to yourself, all those times you’ve looked at his hands and now you know you were right. He feels good, thicker, longer than your own digits, reaching deeper than you ever could.

He makes a game out of this, seeing how he can make you react, praising every movement of your hips, every noise you make, how many times he can get you to come.

When it’s done and you can’t take any more, he lies beside you, putting his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest. You let your hand settle on his stomach, on the patch of hairs that trails down to the waist of his boxers. 

“You don’t have to…” he says, as you start to feel over his skin with your fingertips.

“Do you mind if I return the favour?” you ask, sitting up and leaning on your palm, looking down at him.

Aemond stares at your face. “Of course, as long as you want to.”

“I do,” you say,  enjoying the way his expression lightens.

You position yourself along his body and rid him of the boxers. His cock is an impressive size, a little intimidating, but you’re already craving the feeling of him in your mouth, hard and needy, especially after he’s watched you come undone so many times. 

You trail your tongue along his length, teasing over the tip and savouring the taste of him. You work him with your mouth and your hand where you can’t take him. You love the sounds he makes, his sighs and moans.

“Good girl,” he coos, “can that pretty mouth take more?”

You want to, you want him to feel good. You look up to him, trying to take more every time your mouth moves down.

Aemond watches you in wonder. He gathers your hair in one hand. “Tap my leg if it gets too much.”

You hum in agreement.

He pushes your head down. “Relax,” he utters, “fuck, just relax, you’re doing so good.”

You hardly understand how it makes you want more, the weight of him, the discomfort in your jaw, but you like it. You feel your stomach starting to tighten again.

Aemond pulls your head up and you catch your breath, quickly working your hand over his cock. He’s squirming now, pleading for release. You move your mouth to his balls and he doesn’t last long after that.

He pulls you by your hair again, prodding the tip at your lips. “Swallow it,” he growls as he slips into your mouth once more. You feel the warmth over your tongue and he comes, wincing slightly at the taste, letting it dribble from the corner of your mouth. 

You must look like a fucking mess, his cum dripping from your mouth, your hair ruffled from his grip, trying to catch your breath as his cock softens.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he utters. 

You fall asleep in his bed, your head against his chest and his arms around you. As you drift off you try not to think about the summer’s impending end, that the days are already getting shorter.

Don’t overthink it.

You think you could allow yourself to enjoy this, the light feeling in your body, the relief of being held by someone else, the sound of Aemond’s fluttering breath soothing you to a deep, dreamless sleep.

When Helaena suggested that you join her and the boys for tennis, you thought it meant you might actually get a chance to play. You and Aemond could have played a doubles match. He could have given you some pointers on your technique, and if you won he could have looked at you with that smug look of his. Or you could have gone head to head. He would have won, inevitably, but he’d be looking at you with a competitive intensity which could easily be switched into a different kind of eagerness.

You’ve not got a terrible view. Aemond’s face is dark with determination, every part of him drenched with sweat and his hands gripping the racket like it’ll purposefully try to jump out of his grasp. He grunts every time he hits the ball, and he does it with a terrifying amount of power. 

“Match point!” Aegon’s made himself comfortable in a plastic chair at the side of the court, sipping bottles of beer from a cooler box he made Daeron carry over.

At first you were worried you might have to watch Aemond lose this. Daeron started off strong. He’s young, slim, quick, but he’s running out of stamina. This is where the match turned in Aemond’s favour. He hasn’t tired out so easily. 

Daeron serves. Aemond sends the ball flying back. Daeron has to run for it but he just manages to hit it into Aemond’s court. And while Daeron’s far over on the left, Aemond hits it to the right. There’s no chance that Daeron will get it and he knows it, not even running for it. But Aemond’s hit it hard, if it’s out of the court then Daeron has another chance to win.

You all freeze. Aegon leans forward, eyes on the line and…

“In!”

“Fuck!” Daeron cries.

You and Helaena break into cheers. Aegon wipes his brow as if he’s the exhausted athlete and helps himself to another beer.

Aemond looks at you, trying not to smile. He offers his hand to Daeron but he’s having none of it.

He comes straight to you, lifting you into a spin like you’re in a rom-com.

“Why do I feel like you’ve just won Wimbledon?” you say as he sets you down.

“Please, this is more competitive than Wimbledon,” Helaena says, evidenced by the fact that Daeron has grabbed his racket and is already walking back towards the house.

“It’s a valuable lesson to learn how to lose gracefully,” Aemond insists. 

On the walk through the gardens, Aemond keeps his arm around you, even when you protest that he’s literally wet with sweat. Not that you mind, you’re in a t-shirt and some sports shorts you’ve borrowed from Helaena. It’s all very sweet, very intimate all of a sudden, after you’ve spent the last few weeks acting like you dislike each other.

It’s early evening and the sun is inching closer to the horizon. The crashing of waves surrounds Dragonstone, no matter where you stand, the tennis court, the gardens, the front drive. Helaena and Aegon announce they’re going to have a few more drinks on the patio. And Aemond leads you upstairs to his room.

The moment the door is shut his lips are on yours, hands lightly touching your jaw. Is he afraid he’ll douse you with sweat, that his hands will feel too rough on your skin, that he’ll break you somehow?

There’s a nagging feeling in your heart and in the back of your head, the overwhelming urge to be close to him, to feel him. You stumble over yourselves and you drag him towards the bed by the collar of his tank top.

He’s on top of you, palms on either side of your head, his hair falling over your forehead, keeping you flat on the mattress with his body. “Don’t get me all worked up, darling, I need to shower–”

You interrupt him with quick, needy kisses. You can’t get enough of him, the softness of his mouth, his heat, the taste of him on your tongue.

He has to drag himself away, grinning, stroking his jaw with the backs of his fingers. “You’re tempting,” he muses.

“Not tempting enough,” you say with a playful pout.

“Give me two minutes.”

“I’ll be counting.”

He huffs a laugh. “That’s a good girl.”

Your brain short circuits. In that moment you’d wait for hours if he asked you to. 

He strips off in front of you, his trainers, his top, the shorts and the pair of boxers. You sit on the edge of the bed, hypnotised as you watch his muscles and tendons flex under his skin, all his sharp edges, the contented look on his face.

He leans over you once more, kissing you lightly on your head before he disappears into his ensuite. You listen to the rush of water, the sound of his footsteps when you can catch them. You imagine him there, water running over his body, hands working some shower gel into a lather and rubbing it into his skin. 

You take shallow, steady breaths, telling yourself you’re not trying to commit the smell of his sheets to memory. But you feel comfortable here, in his bed, in his room, in this small fraction of his world. There’s only so much you know of him, the books he likes, how quiet and commanding he can be, how his mouth feels and how his brow scrunches when you make him feel good. You’re sitting amongst fragments of him now, the sports trophies, the old photos, the text books, trying to piece it all together into the man you fell asleep with last night.

What’s his place like in King’s Landing? You bet it’s in some expensive neighbourhood, Visenya’s Hill or one of those squares by Regent’s Park. You picture marble surfaces, vintage furniture, rows and rows of books, dark wood floors, deep shades of blue and green, tall windows, maybe a bed for Vhagar.

There’s so much you want to know about him, so many questions you could ask.

The shower stops. You try to act as casually as you can and like you haven’t been restless on his bed waiting for him to come back to you.

When the door opens a cloud of steam wafts into the bedroom. Aemond has dried himself off mostly, ruffling the towel in his hair. You can taste the sweetness of the water on your tongue, and breathe in the scent of his shampoo. His eye is on you as he tosses the towel aside and approaches the bed.

He kisses you tenderly, slowly tugging away your t-shirt, then the shorts. Once you’re naked his demeanour shifts. His hands are firm on your thighs, spreading your legs apart, holding you down as he drags your panties to one side and devours you. 

You can’t stop moving but it doesn’t matter, Aemond keeps you right where he wants you, circling and pressing with his tongue where you need him. Has he remembered from last night? Has he thought about this since?

When you come undone Aemond hums lowly in his chest, pleased, satisfied, to a point. He grinds his hardened length against your bare cunt, effortless with the aftermath of your orgasm. Each push of his head against your clit sends a shockwave through your spine. He’s teasing you, you can see it on his face.

You let out a quiet noise from your throat.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Aemond says sweetly.

You try to angle your hips and rock against him, but he knows what your game is and keeps his tortuous movements steady.

“That’s not good enough, tell me what you want.”

“I want you to fuck me,” you mutter, looking away from his face.

He’s having none of that. There’s a weight on your neck, his hand, forcing your gaze back to him. “Say that again.”

He’s slowed down, any hint of pleasure is fading quickly. You can’t let it happen, you need more. “I want you to fuck me,” you say again.

Aemond leans into you, forehead against yours, breath hot against your open mouth. “Beg me for it.”

“Please,” you whisper, lips grazing over his, “please fuck me, Aemond.”

The tip of his cock slips down to your entrance. He whispers in your ear, “is no condom okay?”

You nod. “I’m on the pill.”

Without any more preamble he slowly starts to rock his hips again, inching inside. You gasp at the stretch, clinging onto his shoulders as he works himself into you. You let your forehead rest against his chin, focusing on him, the little grunts he makes as he fills you.

“So fucking tight,” he whispers. Maybe he’s just as desperate and needy as you are.

His thrusts are shallow at first, but he presses in deeper. He keeps it slow, thorough, propping himself up on his hands, letting his pelvis grind into your clit. Your legs curl around his hips to keep him close, to keep yourself open for him. 

He’s reaching so deep, then he ups his pace, fucking into you quick and hard, and you can do nothing but cling to him and take it. 

You feel yourself clench around him, letting out a strangled sort of cry.

“That’s it,” Aemond rasps in your ear, “that feels good doesn’t it?”

You utter a mindless “yeah,”

“Are you going to come for me?”

“I…” you think so, something’s tightening inside you. You can’t speak or help the moans that slip from your mouth.

“I wanna feel you come around my cock,” Aemond says, “please, sweetheart, please,”

The pleasure snaps and your whole body lurches, back arching, your nails digging into Aemond’s skin. He fucks you through it, panting and sighing until he stills. With a few more gentle thrusts you feel a warmth blooming inside of you. He pulls out slowly, leaning back on his haunches to admire his work.

There’s a quiet moment, when you’re both catching your breath. Your eyes meet and you smile at him. He’s sweating again.

You go back to your room to shower and dress for dinner. Helaena knocks on your door before you head down together, a pleasant ache between your legs that feels like a shameful secret.

“Aemond seemed happy about the tennis,” she says.

“Mm hmm,” you offer.

“So did you…”

“Seven hells, he’s your brother,” you whisper, feeling blood flush in your cheeks.

“Well obviously I don’t want details about him, but as your friend I want you to be happy and have good sex.”

You wish you could shrink into your shoulders. “Yes, it was good.”

She squeals with laughter and tickles under your chin like you’re a child. “I’m so proud of both of you,” she says.

You and Helaena sit together around the table, this time you’re next to Aemond. Daeron is opposite you, Aegon to his right, opposite Helaena. 

Alicent is keen to hear about the result of the tennis match. 

“It was a tough call,” Aegon says like a sports commentator, “going in, expectations were high for Mr Targaryen, and equally Mr Targaryen is a promising young player, as we all know well–”

Otto chuckles from the other side of the table. The rest of the table starts to become engrossed in Aegon’s retelling of events, even Viserys.

“But ultimately the younger player was worn down, and it was in fact Mr Targaryen who prevailed!”

“But, who actually won?” Alicent asks, completely lost until she sees the scowl on Daeron’s face.

“Who knew Aemond still had it in him?” Aegon says, raising a piece of steak on a fork to him like a toast, “after all those office hours, I thought you were officially a boring bastard.”

“You know Aemond,” Daeron says, “he’s full of surprises.”

You frown with a flicker of confusion. Aemond’s glaring at his younger brother. Aegon raises his brow, taking a deep drink from his wine.

“A man of many talents,” Helaena adds lightheartedly.

“Take this development for example,” Daeron says, nodding to you.

“Daeron,” his mother warns.

Anger rushes through you like a fist around your heart. “What’s so interesting about it?” you ask.

Daeron shrugs. “It’s just that Aemond’s usually into older women–”

There’s a scraping sound as Aemond rises from his chair. He doesn’t shout, or glare, or slam his fist on the table. He simply leaves.

Daeron’s smirking. Everyone else is looking at you, Aegon, Alicent, your own parents.

“You’re a fucking arse,” Helaena hisses across.

You’ve had dreams before, when something’s chasing you and you can’t run, like your legs are made of ice and you can’t convince them to move, to keep out of the reach of danger. That’s exactly how you feel now, like you’re living in a nightmare, pulse pounding in your chest, no way to escape.

You don’t wait to consider what Daeron might have meant. You get up from your chair and follow Aemond from the dining hall.

No taglist, follow @ficsbygee and turn on post notifs for updates <3

[feyd-meowtha]

Some thoughts on Dune, media literacy and the way we interact (and do not interact) with difficult topics in fiction....

Buddy, imma say this with kindness in my heart.... If this gets you 'tweaking' then you aren't gonna like the ending of Children of Dune...

On the media literacy note.... big sigh.

It is explicitly said that Feyd and Paul were meant to marry and have a child had Paul been born a girl - obviously the natural reaction is to consider what the nature/implications of that would have been. The source material is EXPLICITLY telling you that they were made for eachother, destined to be together. This is also the text EXPLICITLY telling you that this relationship would be an acceptable thing in this world. Therefore engaging with this concept is not at all a reach and is very much backed up by the source material. People are not getting this idea from nowhere.

(Also if that still offends you, they're not actually first cousins but cousins once removed and 2 seconds of thinking about the family tree would have made that obvious, not that it really matters at all in the context of this story, but it is a very easy feat of inductive reasoning)

The fact is that this is a story about ruling families and (as they almost always do) it involves a degree of incest. This is ESPECIALLY true in the world of Dune where these people are being selectively bred like show dogs to have certain genetic characteristics, I hope I do not have to patronise anyone by explaining how that works. Especially given as Reverend Mother Mohiam says this, oh, 10 pages into the first book:

People who haven't read the literature love to lecture people on literacy, funny.

So, in conclusion, if this is how you feel then, with love, Dune is not the story for you. The fact is that a degree of incest IS normalised in this universe and if you're inclined toward tedious moralising based on writers exploring difficult ideas in fiction then I'm honestly surprised you ended up here in the first place. Dune is a story that constantly presents the reader with difficult ideas and invites them to critique and analyse them for themselves, including the morality of the Bene Gesserit breeding programme. In Dune no character is morally pure, no ideology is beyond corruption and no path is free of ugly choices. As adults we can engage with these difficult topics as we wish.

*Sigh* A few years ago these people learned the term 'media literacy' and they've been insufferable ever since.

[mrsmothermaximoff]

Missed me?

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

Pairing: Stepmommy Wanda x f!reader

Tags: Stepmom x stepdaughter, fluff, daddy issues, kissing, drinking, mentions of upcoming smut

Summary: Y/N's back from college and finds out her stepmother may have missed her just as much as she did

Dinner ended after a painfully long 2 hours and you helped Wanda finish up the dishes while you two caught up. "So, did you meet anyone special over there?" The words tasted bitter in her mouth. "No, not really. Just a bunch of people who wasted my time." Wanda paused briefly after putting a plate in the sink, "Who wasted your time?" The question felt more than casual, like she demanded an answer. "Just people I thought respected me, turns out they all thought I was a joke." She frowned at you, "I don't think you're a joke, my Y/N." That nickname always left your face burning. "Thank you Wanda, I missed you." She pulled you in for an unexpected hug, one that was so rudely interrupted by your father coming to grab his 9th glass of wine.

After the dishes were done your father left upstairs to do who-knows what, and you went to your room to watch a movie with Wanda. The two of you had established a tradition of late-night movie watching about a year ago. Every Thursday Wanda comes to lay with you on your bed and you watch some cheesy laughable movie while you try to hide your giggles from your father. It was always completely innocent, until today that is.

The movie started and you both had already started your fits of laughter before you even grabbed the popcorn. Wanda was always very hospitable, so she loved setting up a series of snacks for the two of you. The movies you always watched were full of cheesy jokes and dumb humor, but this time Wanda wanted to watch something a little but more serious, a romance.

The main characters had already kissed 9 different people only 10 minutes into the movie. "I don't understand how people do it." You commented, upset by the actions of the character. "Do what?" Wanda replied. "Make-out with a bunch of random people all the time just for fun. I don't understand it. Why can't people just love one person forever? And only that person?" She began rubbing your arm softly at that last part. Your breath got caught in your throat at the sudden action. "Mhm" She agreed quietly. "M-maybe they're just lonely." You said trying to regain your thoughts. She stopped at your words, "Do you kiss a lot of people when you're lonely?" Her voice sounded softer, sadder, something you almost never hear from her. "No, but I might try it." You joked with a sad laugh, "I felt so lonely at school, for so long, I don't want to feel lonely anymore." She got quiet, when you looked up at her she was looking at you, focused. Her left hand gently caressed your head, while her right rubbed circles on your stomach. She opened her mouth, and then closed it. She did it again, and again, you anxiously waited for what she was trying to say. What could she have to say that would take this much effort? "Let me be the one you love forever, my Y/N," She whispered so boldly. "the one you always kiss, the one who kills your lonely, the one who makes you feel special every time you think you aren't." She paused, "I love you."

Your eyes filled with tears, and she pulled you into her to steal them with her lips. She softly kissed every tear that fell while she silently hoped you felt comforted by it. When they stopped falling she pulled away. "Wanda, I-" Her expression grew disappointed and saddened. "It's okay Y/N, I understand this is an interesting situation, you don't have to-" You practically threw yourself onto her smashing your lips together again. You heard her sniffle and you quickly pulled away. "Wanda?" She smiled and sniffled back more cries, "You're everything to me Y/N, I've loved you for so long and now you're finally mine." You smiled smugly back at her, "Well, there's still one thing you haven't claimed yet." She looked at you confused, "What?" You signaled for her to get closer, "my virginity."

[sugaroto]

Kapoutzidis>>>>>>>>