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flowerandblood · 2 months

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The Lost Haven (7/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, manipulation (partly unintentional), violent description of suicide attempt (blood), injection of a sleeping drug, violence, imprisoning, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He could have become a father.

Could was the key word in his life: he could do a lot of things theoretically, but for the most part the line between what was accessible to him and what was not was clearly drawn.

He couldn't escape the world that was consuming him.

He couldn't change who he was.

He couldn't marry his niece, at least in the light of social morality.

But he could become the father of her child because she hadn't taken the pill.

This news thrilled him so much that for a moment he forgot that his own father was dead.

And the complications that came with it.

Looking at his body in the morgue, he thought that perhaps a good thing had happened: Viserys looked sick and tired, his face expressing relief.

He was with his first wife now, the one he really loved, he thought with regret, and felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing his niece's face in his mind then, as she laid beneath him, panting loudly, seared, warm and wet only for him.

He grunted, shifting from foot to foot, recognising that he shouldn't be thinking about it right now.

Only Rhaenyra, Helaena and his mother wept over his body.

Neither he nor Aegon shed a single tear.

The next day he felt excited like a small child and terrified at the same time: it was the first time he was to see the University from the inside, to talk to the professor and on top of that, to see her, again.

If it worked out, they would study together.

Perhaps they would even go on excavations, just like when they were children.

Maybe there was some part of their lives that they could get back.

He texted her that he would come and was relieved when he spotted her silhouette waiting for him in the car park. As soon as he stepped out of the car he felt uncertainty and fear, wondering if this was a good idea.

What if his grandfather found out?

If he was putting her and himself in danger?

He involuntarily reached into the pocket of his jacket, wanting to soothe himself with a cigarette.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said, furrowing her brow, making his hand drop in a gesture of helplessness and impatience.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She sighed, ignoring his tone and demeanour, moving ahead.

He had to admit that the whole campus impressed him: the lawns and the huge park around which the gigantic nineteenth-century brick building towered were full of students sitting on the grass, reading books and talking to each other.

They had no worries except their exams, he thought regretfully, concluding that they didn't even know how lucky they were.

The conversation with the professor was overwhelming for him: he had never been able to find himself talking to strangers, even less so when he couldn't leave or defend himself when he heard a difficult question.

The man sitting in front of him was not a man transporting cocaine by ship, but an old man with big glasses who was telling him that if he were able to participate in the excavations, part-time studies would be possible for him.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." Said the professor and stood up, nodding, letting them know that their meeting was over.

"Is that it?" He asked in disbelief, looking at her with big eyes, wondering if it was a joke, but she only smiled.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

As they left, he felt discomfort at the thought that he didn't know how to act. He guessed that he had interrupted her class and should leave, but that meant there was no telling when he would see her again.

He wanted to simply spend some time with her, but he didn't know how.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He said offhandedly, glancing at the poster hanging on the wall right next to him, hiding his hands in his trousers so she wouldn't see them tremble.

She blinked and looked at him, surprised.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She muttered quietly, as if embarrassed. He felt an unpleasant sting of disappointment at her words and in a subconscious reflex he wanted to hurt her because of it, if only a little, to be sure she felt what he felt.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He asked with a sneer, glancing at her, but the smirk disappeared from his face when he noticed the way she looked at him.

She was angry and bored.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes." She said coldly, and he froze, thinking he was an awful person.

How could he forget about it, say something so ill-considered after what had happened to her?

He suddenly realised how it worked in his mind, how he reacted involuntarily to pain wanting to automatically cause it to another person, even if they didn't deserve it.

This thought terrified him.

Some part of him wanted to make it up to her, to prove that there was a part of him that wanted to change.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He asked, feigning indifference, involuntarily scratching his chin, unable to look her in the face.

"Larys Strong."

He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

He looked at her, feeling how slowly a picture that seemed to him to be just scattered shards suddenly came together, the fact that Larys had dragged her there was never supposed to be an accident, and his grandfather knew about it.

This is the last time you interfere in their affairs.

They hoped she'd call for Daemon.

That, knowing his explosive nature, there would be a shootout in which they would kill her step-father before Viserys died, so that he and his half-sister's businesses could then be easily taken over.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed out, feeling that he was breathing heavily through his mouth, that his hands were clenched into fists, that his heart was pounding like mad.

Only after a moment did he realise that his niece was looking at him with big eyes, horrified that what was happening in his mind had not escaped her attention.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said, making him feel a squeeze in his heart for some reason.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He mouthed, realising only after a moment that he sounded like a little boy. She shook her head, as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?"

He watched as she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, praying that she would agree, that she would not abandon him, that she would not leave him in the dark room that was his heart.

His little lamp.

Yes, he thought, feeling a pleasant, gentle warmth in his chest.

That's what she was to him.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She decided at last, distraught and tired, making him swallow loudly with relief as he looked down at her.

He wanted to touch her.

He wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, but it seemed inappropriate.

Not after what he'd done to her.

"Can I touch your hand?" He asked in a trembling voice, feeling like an idiot, a weak, quivering child begging for a moment's attention, a moment's tenderness.

She looked at him in a way from which his throat tightened with affection, her hand extended towards him made him grasp it in his own.

He watched, breathing hard, elated as his fingers entwined with hers in a pleasant, soft embrace, her skin warm, smooth and soft, exactly as he remembered it.

He felt both moved and aroused at the same time by this sight, by the feeling of her bare body in a way that was not purely sexual, yet so intimate, private, reserved only for someone close to her.

"Walk me out." He whispered.

To his delight, she didn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. He couldn't find the words to say goodbye or thank her for what she'd done, feeling only shame, so he just got in the car and drove away.

He knew it was wrong.

He knew it was wrong and he couldn't stop.

The forbidden fruit tempts most, he remembered her words and swallowed hard, driving ahead in silence, wondering if that was indeed all this was about.

The thought that maybe not terrified him, because it meant that there would be no moment in his life when he could let her go, allowing her to live at last.

It meant that he would devour her, choke her in his own darkness.

The next day, everyone was nervous: the meeting with the notary was going to be groundbreaking. Otto was certain that Viserys had divided his wealth equally between each of his children, which would mean that Rhaenyra's share would also belong to Daemon.

"I don't think he would leave his daughter the brothels or the clubs where the crimes took place to avoid burdening her. This means that a real estate company and our money laundering business could fall to her. We will have to make steps to take it over, peacefully or not." Said his grandfather when he spotted him standing by his car alone having a cigarette.

He nodded, feeling discomfort and uncertainty, not knowing what he should answer.

"You are not yourself since the death of your father. What's happening to you?" Otto asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, making him press his lips together in displeasure.

Another fucking interrogation?

"I'm tired." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette impatiently, looking at his family home, wondering if his father would take it away from his mother.

"Where were you the night he died? When Aegon woke up, you were not in the room."

He froze in mid-motion, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble, his heart and stomach clenched in fear.

He couldn't remember if he had ever felt peace.

Maybe then, that night, when he felt the warmth of her body and fell asleep beside her, drunk and happy, he thought with regret.

"With my niece."

Otto laughed low, shaking his head.

"This is no time for jokes, Aemond. I don't want you to hide anything from me." He said slowly and calmly, as if trying to explain something to a small child.

He looked at him in a way from which his grandfather's expression changed, twisting in a grimace of shock and disbelief.

"Good God. What did you do to her?" He mouthed.

He grinned involuntarily at his question in a way from which Otto swallowed hard and clenched his eyes.

"Have you completely lost your mind? What has that poor girl done to you, hm? What if she tells her parents, accuses you in front of everyone? For God's sake, you're her uncle." He hissed quietly, stepping close to him and looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear him.

For some reason his dismay, his disgust, his disappointment gave him satisfaction.

The fact that he was arousing such feelings in him and other people seemed to him the most natural state he knew.

"We were just talking. About the past and the future." He lied, knowing that his grandfather didn't believe him, that he'd seen in his gaze what he'd done to her, what he'd done to her twice, and how fucking pleasurable it had been for him.

He decided that he wouldn't try to explain to him that she had peaked with him each time.

He wouldn't believe him anyway.

"We'll talk later." He hissed as his mother, Helaena and Aegon came out of their house, saying they were ready.

When they arrived Daemon and Rhaenyra were already waiting for them inside in a large, spacious office with windows overlooking the great city skyline. The notary greeted them, offered them coffee and tea, and then showed them to their seats.

He tried not to look at Daemon, feeling his gaze on him, knowing what he thought of him and that he had every right to do so.

He felt bad about it, but fuck, he wanted to be close to her and have a family with her.

He wanted to be able to love her.

Just her, just this one time in his life.

Was he asking for so much?

The notary, in the presence of the lawyers of both parties, unsealed the envelope in which was secured his father's last will, which he knew he had consulted with his grandfather.

Nevertheless, he felt anxious, felt the cold sweat on his back, a complete, tense silence all around them.

And then he began to read.

"I, Viserys Targaryen, present my last will as follows. I bequeath our family home to my wife, Alicent Targaryen, which will belong to her until her death, and then pass according to her will to one of our children. I bequeath all my other estates and properties to my children Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron to be shared equally between them. All of my investments and all premises under my business that I owned I pass to my daughter, Rhaenyra."

He stared at him dully, feeling as if he had gone completely deaf, his heart beginning to pound like mad as his hand clenched into a fist, his grandfather beside him twisting in his chair, shocked.

"This is some kind of misunderstanding." Otto said, on the other side Daemon laughed out loud, hiding his face with his hands.

He mocked them, he thought.

His father had mocked them for the last time.

He didn't understand why he felt tears burning under his eyelids, why his lips were trembling, why he expected anything else.

His appreciation, his trust, a gesture that would indicate that he understood what he was doing to ensure the well-being of their family.

Did he really think that he was taking money out of people by force, that he was cutting their faces to please his grandfather?

Yet it meant nothing.

Everything he did, everything he became apparently only made his father disgusted.

Because he was disgusting.

They all were.

"Unbelievable. We're not going to leave it like that. I'm sure this is Daemon's doing. FUCK!" Growled his grandfather, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, slapping his palms against the dashboard of his car.

He drove ahead, feeling a complete emptiness, feeling neither disappointment nor anger, wondering if he should pull over and hit one of the trees.

He wanted his father to see him as a cold, unbreakable man, one who would always defend his and his family's interests, one who could make sacrifices.

And he didn't even notice it.

All the wicked things he did turned out to be worthless.

He destroyed himself for nothing.

He had nothing.

In his mind, in his heart, in his wallet.

A fucking property by the sea.

"We will attack their family. If our clients find out, no one in the industry will care about us. We have to show strength, we have to act." Otto said, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

We will attack their family.

We have to act.

His grandfather called a meeting in his office, which was to be attended by him, his brother and his mother. He paced around the room gesticulating, speaking quickly, Aegon as well as his mother sat in their seats flooded with tears.

He thought they looked pathetic.

"We need to give him a warning. Force him to come out with another, more acceptable offer for us." Said Otto, circling the room with his hands placed on his hips, analysing everything.

"You saw him. He laughed. He knows that he won." Mumbled Aegon, all swollen from crying.

Otto stopped and pressed his lips together.

"Leave me and Aemond alone." He said finally, making him freeze, his heart pounding like crazy.

Some premonition told him what he would want from him even before it left his mouth.

He was not mistaken, and as soon as his mother and brother left, his grandfather began to speak.

"Does Rhaenyra's daughter trust you?"

He stared dully ahead, answering him with a protracted, uncomfortable silence, feeling like throwing up for some reason.

"Aemond."

"No."

"No, what?"

"Don't drag her into this."

His grandfather pressed his lips together, leaning over him, resting his hands on his armrests.

"She's been dragged into this for a long time. If we don't take our chances, someone else will." He said calmly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.

"You knew."

"What?"

"That Larys had plans for her."

"I knew that he would act. Daemon's presence on the scene isn't to his liking."

"He put a fucking rape pill into her drink." He said coldly, clenching his hands into fists.

"It wasn't about rape there, at least that's my opinion. However, now, if he sends his people to her University, I cannot vouch for what will happen to her. With us she will be safe. We would lock her in a room in our house for a few days and treat her with respect as if she were our guest. My issue is with Daemon and Rhaenyra, not with her. Her harm is not my desire."

He looked at him, feeling a void in his mind, no longer knowing for himself what he thought of this, what was right and what was not.

"Are you going to let everything you've worked so hard for be taken away from you? For this man to laugh in our faces? What are we to use to maintain the estates your father left you? Even if we sell some of it, how many years will it last? We have to think about our future. I trust you to do the right thing."

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, thinking with disbelief that if he didn't, the part of himself that he had lost, that he had killed to become who he was, would turn out to be a sacrifice in vain.

Some part of him naively wanted to believe that she would understand.

"Only me and Helaena will have access to her room. I will be by her side the entire time, and my duties for that period will be taken over by someone else."

Otto smiled in a way from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy."

He looked at his phone, at the message he'd sent her while sitting in his car two streets from her house, wondering how he could be doing this to her.

She wanted to help him change, she made an attempt.

Perhaps she was pregnant.

Hundreds of feelings mixed in his head, fear, grief, disgust, sadness, hatred and despair devoured him from the inside, forming one black mass from his thoughts.

She's not coming, he thought with a strange calmness.

She was not naive.

Daemon had certainly warned her not to trust them.

He'll return home and tell his grandfather that it just didn't work out.

But what will happen to them then?

They will have nothing to buy new goods with, or they will buy them, but they will have to raise their prices.

They will stop being competitive in the business.

They will lose customers.

They will go out of the game.

They will cease to count.

They will have no way to pay the police.

They will go to prison.

He shuddered, hearing rustling and someone's footsteps, his eyes big when he saw her breathless, flushed figure, her dark, loose hair in disarray.

She looked so beautiful.

He opened the door, unable to believe that she'd run away for him, just for him, watching as she pulled her backpack down quickly and handed it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but he only looked at her lips, parted in accelerated breath, soft and full.

He thought with horror that he wanted to feel her.

He wanted to be reassured.

He wanted to make love to her.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

Her gaze full of warmth, affection and trust, her parted lips, her hand that allowed him to pull her closer made him feel like his cock would explode with desire.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He praised her when she sat on his lap at last, closing the door behind her. He slided his hands to his belt, panting hard, releasing his fat, long erection, leaking with desire at the mere sight of her.

He could only watch in disbelief as she took off her shorts, wordlessly allowing her to guide the thick, glistening head of his manhood against her slit, all pulsing with heat, slowly sinking it into her body.

He gasped at the ease with which she welcomed him into her warm, moist interior, how simple and proper it seemed.

It made him forget for a moment who he was and what he was supposed to do.

All that mattered was her, her face, her eyes, her forehead pressed against his, her warm buttocks under his fingers, her swollen, sweet lips, her slick tongue invading between his teeth, her little cunt that convulsed around his throbbing cock in ecstasy.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, unable to express otherwise how good she made him feel, why his hips were pounding into her so fast and so greedily, why he couldn't slow down, why he wanted it so desperately.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, making him gasp, pleasant, tickling warmth in his lower abdomen.

Her soaked pussy squeezed and sucked him inside, making him pant loudly into her puffy lips, feeling his whole body grow hot, in some subconscious, natural reflex returning to where he felt good, where he felt safe: back deep, deep inside her.

He knew it wasn't just about sex: there was too much tenderness in in their movements, the touch of their hands too thoughtful and too gentle, too soft, their embrace too close, too intimate, their moans too helpless, too vulnerable.

"– Aemond –" She mewled into his throat on the brink of orgasm, bringing her clenching, moist, fleshy walls to the point where he felt a squeeze in his testicles, indicating that he was close too.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, listening to what he was doing to her, to his own niece, how loudly her sweet, little cunt clicked as he rooted into her again and again, how perfect she squeezed his cock, how warm she was, how wet she was, for him, only for him.

"– where? –" He muttered, wanting to be more responsible this time, slamming into her with a quick, sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, helplessly chasing his own fulfillment that he so desperately needed.

He didn't want to hurt her.

Never.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She breathed out and something in her words, in the way she said them made his body quiver as he reached his peak inside her, panting hard along with her. He gasped, resting his head against the backrest, trying to be quiet, feeling their bodies pulsate and shiver against each other.

He snuggled her face to his neck, feeling a wonderful pleasure and relief as his warm seed filled her insides at last, her scent, her closeness, her hot, pulsing interior calming him.

It felt so good.

So right.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, stroking her bare buttock with one hand, sliding the other between the seat and the gearbox, feeling the needle syringe under his fingers, from which he slipped the cap.

I'm sorry.

He heard her draw in a loud breath at his words, but he didn't let her answer.

He was afraid he would change his mind then.

"– forgive me –" He mumbled in trembling voice, heartbroken, her body tensed all over as he jabbed the needle into her neck and let the sleeping drug spread through her insides.

She whined quietly, terrified and surprised, reminding him of a small, innocent animal. He embraced her, feeling the remedy take effect after a moment, and her body relaxed in his embrace, a faint, weak cry escaping from her lips.

I'm sorry.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl –" He hushed her tenderly, feeling his whole body tremble as tears of shame, disgust and regret ran down his cheeks along with the knowledge of what he had just done to her, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

He used her because she trusted him, because she wanted to help him, because she really cared about him.

He sobbed quietly, closing his eyes, and cuddled his face against her neck, feeling her fall asleep, thinking that he wanted to take it back, that it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, that he just wanted her to forgive him.

Maybe he could carry her home?

Leave her at the gate and run away?

But what if someone found her unconscious, what if she fell ill from the cold, what if someone abused her in his absence, hurt her?

He realised that there was no way back.

Despite this realisation, he treated her body with gentleness and tenderness: he lifted her and slid out of her slowly, placing her shorts over her hips, laying her on the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. He took the unruly strands of hair from her face with his trembling hand, looking at her through tears, whooping with his own cry.

He thought she would never forgive him for this.

When he got home he went inside through the back door, carrying her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He told his bodyguards that no one was to disturb him, ordering them to inform his grandfather that everything was sorted out.

"Aemond?" He heard his mother's voice behind him and stopped in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder with big eyes.

His mother was looking at him with her mouth open, disbelief and horror in her gaze.

"– Aemond – what is she doing here? –" She muttered, placing her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down, breathing loudly as if she were going into some kind of panic attack.

"– we'll sort it out, Mum – don't worry –" He whispered. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– you kidnapped an innocent child –" She said with regret and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

She was disgusted with him.

He understood her.

He longed for her to think of him like that.

He desired to suffer.

"– yes –"

He took her to the room where he had spent his entire youth until he moved into his flat and laid her gently on his bed, sitting down beside her, covering her carefully with the duvet. His hand rose slowly and hesitantly to finally stroke her soft hair, her face calm, immersed in deep sleep.

Vhagar, whom he had taken with him from his place, rose from the floor and ran up to them, sniffing him and the newcomer he had laid in his bed.

"– good girl – you will watch over her with me now, hm? –" He asked, stroking her soft fur.

Vhagar squealed, shifting from paw to paw beside him, concerned, as if she sensed that her sleeping state was not natural, something in her scent, in the drug he had given her made his dog restless.

Even she knew what he had done to her, he thought with regret.

He pulled off his shoes and placed them on the ground, laying down beside his niece, putting his arm around her. He pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply her scent, letting his fingers run over the soft skin of her cheek, thinking that he was surely doing this for the last time in his life.

He felt a sting in his heart at that thought, his eyebrows arched in pain as he pressed her body against his, weaving his hand into her hair, burying her head in his neck, trying to calm himself.

"– I will always watch over you –"

In the morning he was awakened by her babbling: she was mumbling something under her breath, her hand clenched on the material of his black Tshirt, he could feel her trying to stand.

"– shhh – lie down – don't get up –" He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling only horror, only despair, only shame.

She would never forgive him for this.

"– where – mghmm –" She muttered, involuntarily falling into his arms again, recognising him and his scent, her fingers closed on his back, snuggling into him in a tender embrace from which he felt his body begin to quiver.

"– easy – easy, little one –" He said, kissing the top of her head again and again, her hair wonderfully soft and smooth under his hand.

"– what's happened? –" She asked, and he remained silent, as he had no idea what to answer her.

His lack of words clearly worried her, for she raised herself on her arm again: she looked around, her gaze hazy, dreamy, her brow furrowed as she did not recognise where she was.

"– Aemond – what's going on? –" She asked wearily, slowly understanding that something was wrong, her breathing louder and heavier, her eyes large and filled with fear.

He lifted himself onto his arm, moving closer to her, his free hand stroking her cheek as he pressed his forehead to her temple.

"– forgive me –" He whispered in a weak, trembling voice, thinking he sounded pathetic.

She sucked in a deep breath and squealed, covering her mouth with her hand as if trying to stop the sound, her eyelids clenched shut as she cried out loud, bursting into tears.

"– oh, baby –" He muttered pleadingly, kissing her red, plump cheek, embracing her tightly despite her hands trying to push him away. "– it will only last a few days, I promise –"

She pulled out of his embrace, moving away to the other end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes, catching her head with her hands as if she couldn't believe what was happening, her mouth parted wide in a heavy, terrified breath.

"– I – I let you – you touched me, and then you – oh God – oh my God, no no no no no no –" She whimpered hiding her head between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to create a fortress, and he could only sit and watch, trying to remember that he needed to breathe.

"– we just need to talk to Daemon – I promise no one will hurt you –" He muttered quickly, but it seemed to him that she wasn't listening to him, plunged into complete hysteria.

"– I helped you – I ran away for you – I brought you books just as you asked – so why did you do this to me? –" She mumbled out, choking on her own tears, her fingers clenched on her hair as if she wanted to rip it out.

He felt like he was drowning, like he was sinking deeper and deeper to the depths with every breath.

"– I know – I know, baby, I'm so sorry – but my father left us no choice – fuck, I know you understand me –" He choked out with difficulty, looking at her hopefully, for some reason naively believing that she would find justification in her heart for his horrible act.

She, however, looked at him dully and froze, her trembling hands raised at the level of her cheeks, her lips parted in a half-breath.

He was sure that she was going to say something, that she was going to shout in his face that she hated him, that he was a monster, a nobody, a disgusting creature, everything that he so needed to hear in order to find himself in the state to which he always returned in the end.

She, however, turned her back to him, hugging her body and face to the wall, tucking her legs under her chin and froze so still.

"– Rhaenys? – please – please, say something – I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear –" He mumbled, trying to touch her calf, but she flinched and moved further away from him, as if his touch had burned her.

He burst into sobs, thinking that her silence, her wordless rejection was worse than any word from her, and he was like a child who longed for the parent he had failed to look at him with a sympathetic eye again.

"– please – please, say something –"

But she said nothing.

For the next few days she did not look at him, she did not answer his questions, and when he tried to touch her she moved as far away as possible, hiding her head between her knees.

He took away her phone out of fear that she would try to contact someone and all the things out of his room that she could use to hurt herself or others.

She ate and drank only the things Helaena brought her.

When he tried to feed her, she would snatch things from his hand and throw them at the wall.

On the one hand he felt rage at that moment, a subconscious need to hurt and punish her, and on the other he felt relieved because he wanted to suffer, because he knew he deserved it.

"– you have to eat –" He sighed, looking indifferently at the big stain of soup on the wall and the shards of the broken bowl thinking it was them.

Like the shards that couldn't be put back together again.

"– what did it feel like, cutting their faces? – did you feel like the Mighty Vhagar then? –"

Her voice, cold and harsh surprised him and made his heart stand in his throat, his body stop breathing for a moment, as if expressing its desire to die of shame.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling that he was trembling, and met her gaze, sad, tired, aloof, embittered.

"– I had no choice –"

Lie.

"– you are lying –" She stated dispassionately. "– I don't want to see or hear you – I want you to pretend that you don't exist, just like you did with me for eight years – you're good at it –"

He lowered his gaze, feeling a complete void in his mind at her words, and got out of bed, kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl as if nothing had happened.

The only being she touched was Vhagar.

He watched from the sidelines as these two slowly established a relationship with each other. His niece would reach out to her, lying on his bed, and his dog would lean out and sniff her from afar without touching her, looking at her with big eyes.

Vhagar did not like strangers and was fussy, but apparently her calm approach and the fact that she did not impose herself on her made his dog express interest in her. When she would get up to reach for one of his books on the shelf, Vhagar would rise and follow her, keeping an appropriate distance, looking at her curiously.

She would lie down in her place only when his niece sat back down on the bed.

He first saw them lying together when he came home late one evening. He had shopped for her, bought her favourite sweets knowing that she would not eat them anyway, and when he walked into the room he saw her lying with Vhagar on her dog bed.

She was crying and cuddling into her fur as if she was a big teddy bear, and his dog, despite the fact that she usually got up at the sight of him, just looked at him with big eyes, not moving from her place.

Something about the sight broke him, and although he knelt down next to his niece and wanted to touch her back, he stopped mid-motion when he heard his dog growl at him for the first time in his life.

She knew.

Daemon and Rhaenyra's fury was great: the very next morning after it turned out that she had disappeared there had been an incident at one of their clubs, where his sister's husband had stormed in with her son and several men, threatening to shoot everyone present if he did not find out where his daughter was.

As planned, it was relayed to him that their child was safe and that Otto was waiting for contact from him when he had cooled down to discuss everything calmly.

As proof that they were not lying, they gave him her backpack – the same one in which she had brought him books.

Due to what happened, after his father's body was burned, there was only a short funeral ceremony in the cemetery, attended only by his mother and sister: his grandfather was afraid that Daemon's men, who had been watching them all the time, would lead to a shooting if they appeared there even for a moment.

Despite his niece's reluctance, he spent his days in her presence, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the room where he slept at night. He knew she didn't want to feel him next to her, but he preferred not to leave her alone knowing how frightened she was.

He suggested several times that they could go out together for a walk in the garden, but she didn't even look at him.

She was simultaneously closer and further away from him than ever before.

One night he was roused from sleep by someone's scream: he pulled himself up on the mattress, involuntarily reaching for the penknife in his sweatpants and looked around the room, only after a moment noticing her shivering figure sitting on his bed.

He sighed quietly and swallowed hard, trying to calm himself.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" He whispered, and she twitched at his words, turning towards him, looking at him with big eyes, all drenched in tears.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He muttered, but she answered nothing, her lips parted in a heavy breath, her fingers clenched on the sheets.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered, rising slowly from his seat, tentatively approaching the bed. She raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture and moved away a little, but when he sat down next to her and raised his arm she didn't push him away.

Slowly he placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin reassuringly, with the other cuddling her face into his neck.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –"

She was silent, and he prayed that this moment, her warm body in his embrace, his nose snuggled into her soft, fragrant hair, would last forever.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out finally, startling him, his stomach knotted tight in discomfort and horror.

"– no – don't say that – it won't take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, forcing himself to be calm, stroking her shoulder and back with one hand, the other combing his fingers through her hair, rocking her in his arms like a small child.

"– you broke my heart –"

Her words, the way she said them, what they meant made him gasp aloud, trying not to burst into a sudden sob of despair and grief.

He had broken her.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, tentatively kissing her warm temple, her cheekbone, her ear, everything that was familiar to him, beloved to him, his.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

"– I don't believe you –"

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, feeling a sort of high-pitched, trembling squeal come from his throat as if he were a little girl, tears one by one began to run down his cheeks to the top of her head, his fingers tightening on her delicate flesh.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, sinking his face into her soft, warm cheek, feeling that he was not the only one who was crying.

Her body trembled in the embrace of his arms, her small hands clenched on his shirt in a gesture that testified at once to her anger and her suffering from which his heart was breaking.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She howled into the skin of his neck, and he burst out sobbing at her words, not knowing how he could react differently to what she had said.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, cuddling her tightly into him, placing loud, wet, hot kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck, her arms, leaving sticky, wet marks on it.

He heard her sigh full of pain and pleasure, feeling with shame that his erection swelled all over and hardened, pulsing painfully under the material of his sweatpants, betraying how much he longed for her, how much he yearned for her.

Her quiet moan surged through the skin of his neck as his broad hand slipped lower, sliding tentatively under the material of her shirt, touching her naked back at last, her bare skin, making them both tremble, breathing heavier and louder.

"– I love you –" He assured her, running his fingertips over the wonderfully smooth skin of her back, making goosebumps appear in the places he ran his fingers over. Her body snuggled into him tighter, allowing him to feel her breasts hidden under her tshirt against his chest.

"– you hurt me –" She sobbed through her tears in a breaking voice, at which his lips clung even harder to her shoulder, his kisses even more greedy and wet as his lips again and again brushed and teased the delicate structure of her skin.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, feeling lust and desire pulsing through every nook and cranny of his body, filling his lower abdomen with a pleasurable, tickling tension from which his heart pounded like mad.

He moaned helplessly when he finally felt her warm, puffy lips brush his neck, her cheeks wet from tears as his hand pressed her closer.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He mumbled out, wanting only to feel her again, without her being just an empty part of an incomplete whole.

However, as his hand tentatively slid from her back to her buttock, she pulled away from him suddenly as if burned, hugging her back to the wall and shook her head.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out loudly, looking at him with big, terrified eyes. He shook his head, heartbroken, leaning down, placing quick, warm kisses on her bare knee, stroking her calf with his palm.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She blurted out, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly. He swallowed hard and shook his head again, shocked, understanding how far her lack of trust went and who she now saw him as.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like his whole face had swollen from tears.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out and turned her back to him, hugging herself to the wall again exactly as she did then, the first time, making him whimper, choking on his own tears. He pressed his face against her back, wailing loudly, his fingers clenched on her waist.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined like an animal into her shirt and heard her weep loudly, but she answered him nothing.

However, she did not push him away or tell him to step back, so he fell asleep cuddled into her body, and the next day she again did not speak to him or look at him as if this conversation had never happened.

In her presence he cried all the time and didn't even hide it anymore.

Looking at her, he saw exactly as if in the reflection of a mirror who he had become and what he had sacrificed.

However, it turned out that his grandfather was partly right in his assumptions: Daemon just wanted to kill them all, but his wife didn't feel like risking her daughter's life for a fortune and was willing to talk to them if they let her see her.

"– tomorrow you will go with us to meet your parents – perhaps we will come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, swallowing hard, standing over her small figure sitting on the sill of his window, looking out at the setting sun.

Her profile was gentle and pleasant, her eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes large and bright, her lips seemed wonderfully soft, full and sweet, made only to be caressed.

She closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, and did not even bestow a single glance on him.

He prepared himself for the fact that she would answer him nothing and wanted to sit down on the mattress, going back to reading one of the textbooks she had brought him, but he froze when he heard her voice.

"I'd like to take a bath." She said.

He swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Of course. I'll call Helaena." He replied, wanting to go out into the corridor.

They never left her alone.

For her own safety.

"No." She said and looked at him.

"I want ten minutes alone."

He looked at her, feeling anxiety and doubt in his heart, but he couldn't say no to her.

"Very well. I'll wait by the door."

She nodded and stood up, taking the towel that belonged to her from the chair and went outside. He followed her, walking towards the bathroom next to his room – she looked at him with frustration as he took the key out of the lock and shook his head.

"No. I won't come inside, but I won't let you lock yourself in." He said. She swallowed hard and nodded, and he closed the door behind her.

He leaned against the stair railing, hearing the sound of pouring water, and looked at his watch, sighing heavily.

Ten minutes, no more.

He heard her step into the bath and closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps this was just another ordeal they had to wait through together.

He wanted to believe that she had seen his sadness, shame and remorse, that by his behaviour and calmness he had proved to her that he was capable of being different, for her, only for her.

However, ten minutes passed, then eleven, and she still did not come out of the water.

He didn't want to invade her privacy and make her uncomfortable, but he felt impatient and became concerned that he didn't hear any movement in the room. He walked closer and knocked, sighing heavily.

"– Rhaenys – time's up –" He said matter-of-factly. He pressed his lips together when he heard no sound on the other side and knocked a second time, louder this time.

"– Rhaenys – please –" He sighed, running his hand over his face, deciding that whether she wanted it or not, he had to do it.

"– I'm coming inside – cover yourself –" He said, grabbing the door handle and stepped into the room.

It seemed to him that what he saw before him was some kind of frame from a film, not reality: the snow-white tiles around her head and dark hair, her half-open eyelids and mouth, her hands lying on the edge of the tub, her slit wrists and the crimson water in which she lay, his sister's T-shirt on her body.

He looked down and saw a tiny blade from a bookbinding knife lying on the floor.

For a moment he just stared at it, afraid to move, thinking it wasn't really happening.

"– Rhaenys? –" He muttered, approaching her slowly, but she didn't even flinch, staring ahead as if she was thoughts somewhere far away.

"– Rhaenys, what have you done? –" He mumbled as if he was afraid that if he said the words too loudly they would turn out to be true, and yet it could not be true.

"– God, baby – oh my fucking God –" He whined, pulling her by the shoulders out of the water with a loud splash of red liquid that spilled out.

He sat down on the floor, placing her between his legs, letting her head and back rest against his chest, his fingers tightening on her wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"– baby, what have you done? – hm? – what have you done? –" He whispered to her ear in a trembling voice, kissing her soft, warm face, feeling the initial shock begin to be replaced by a growing panic and the realisation that this was really happening.

He began to breathe loudly, as he always did when he was terrified and when he needed help calling out to the only person he trusted.

"– MUM! – MUM, HELP ME! –" He shouted like a helpless, broken child and burst into tears, clasping his fingers tighter on her wrists, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"– oh God, oh God, oh, God, no, no no no, please, baby, please, please, don't leave me –" He whimpered, rocking her in his arms, cradling her to himself, again and again kissing her bare shoulder, her long neck, her sweet cheek.

He heard someone run up the stairs, the screams of his mother and sister at the sight they saw before their eyes made him look at them.

"– Mum –"

Even though he knew his grandfather would be furious, he and his mother called the ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, she provisionally bandaged her hands together with Helaena, as well as dressed her in a clean shirt and underwear.

He did not let her out of his arms for a second, and when the ambulance arrived he told his mother that he would go with her.

He looked at her as he sat in the car, feeling his hands were sticky with her blood, thinking it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

She just wanted to run away, she just wanted to go home, but she didn't know how.

He made her do this.

When they arrived at the hospital it turned out that her condition was critical: because of how little she had eaten she had become anaemic and needed a quick blood transfusion.

"– take mine –" He said without thinking, and when the doctor asked him what blood type he had, it turned out that he and she had the same.

He could have done something that mattered.

He could have saved her.

He held her hand, lying on the bed beside him, staring dully at the ceiling, the other clenched again and again on the soft ball as he watched his blood fill the plastic bag.

When the doctor came inside, he asked him about what he had been thinking about for a long time.

"– there's – there's a possibility she's pregnant – and –" He mumbled, not knowing how to put it into words. The man looked at him, surprised.

"– she's definitely not pregnant – the tests didn't show it –" The doctor replied, and he swallowed hard, feeling for some reason a great disappointment and sadness.

If he became the father of her child, he could be a part of her life.

He would have an excuse to talk to her, to see her.

He tightened his fingers around hers, stroking her soft skin with his thumb, trying not to cry, thinking he deserved it.

What child would want to be born into such a world?

When it was all over he informed the doctors who they should contact, giving them his half-sister's phone number. Before he left the room, he handed her back her phone and slipped a letter into her locker, which he wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper with a pen the nurse had lent him.

For his own conscience he waited in the distance, watching as Daemon's Mercedes pulled into the car park, he and Rhaenyra ran inside the building without noticing him. He sighed heavily and licked his lower lip, glancing at his phone, seeing twenty missed calls from his grandfather. He dialled his number and put the phone to his ear, feeling strangely calm and relaxed.

"She's alive?" He heard Otto's voice on the other end.

"Yes." He replied dispassionately.

"Thank God. Why didn't you call for me? You ruined everything. Our doctor would have taken care of it. You…" He continued, but he hung up, not feeling like listening to his smart-ass bullshit.

His mother picked him up from the hospital.

"How is she? Will she survive? Have you contacted Rhaenyra?" She asked quickly as they set off, afraid that anyone would notice them.

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, looking at the road with empty eyes.

"I gave her contact details to the hospital staff. They arrived, I saw it with my own eyes. She's safe now." He explained.

His mother breathed out loud, her big brown eyes simultaneously terrified and full of relief.

"You did the right thing, Aemond. No money is worth it. This poor girl." She muttered, shaking her head, trying not to cry and concentrate on driving.

"I destroyed her."

Alicent looked at him, then back at the road, her mouth open slightly in an accelerated breath.

"What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his brow arch in pain and shame.

"I went to her room the night my father died. We had sex, Mum." He muttered in a breaking voice, covering his face with his hand and burst out crying like a little boy.

His mother sighed loudly, shocked, twisting restlessly in her seat.

"– but – why – did she – did she want this? –" She asked in a trembling voice full of terror, indicating that she really believed he might have raped her.

He was not surprised.

"– yes – but I don't think that makes it look any better –" He mumbled, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, leaning his head forward.

"– we did it twice – and then a third time before I –" He didn't finish and cried out loudly, making his mother breathe heavily as if she was in the same state as him.

"– oh my God – oh my God, Aemond, what have you done – she's your niece –" She choked out finally.

"– I know, Mum –" He mumbled, running his fingers over his face, thinking he already understood where her desire to end her life and this perpetual sense of unfulfillment and emptiness came from.

"– me too – I'm no saint either –" She muttered finally, looking up at him with big eyes. "– me and Criston –"

He swallowed hard and shook his head, recognising that it wasn't the same.

"– I know, Mum – you won't hear a word of condemnation from me –"

His mother drew a loud breath and wept, as if she felt both relieved and sad at the same time.

"– nor will you hear them from me, son – since you both wanted it, it was simply a mistake of youth – you are both lost and have sought comfort – but it must not happen again – do you understand? – for your sake and hers –" She said with confidence and conviction that this was the best possible decision.

"– I keep thinking about her – since that holiday eight years ago – I've tried, but I can't stop –" He choked out at last, wiping his red cheek, feeling as if he were ten years old again, complaining to her that someone had beaten him up at school.

Alicent ran her hand over her face before placing her palm over his.

"– sometimes – sometimes we have to leave certain things to ourselves – the shameful desires of our hearts – and fulfil them when no one sees – do you understand? –" She asked in a trembling voice, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

"It is not love itself that is sin –" She said finally. "– but what we do with it."

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katyawooga · 20 days

Text

sevika week – day two, to fix you

sevika's been battered and bruised before, but not like this.

just for some extra money between the two of you living in the undercity together, you took up a simple bartending and waitressing job at the last drop. earlier tonight, a pink-haired girl with what looked like oversized hextech gloves walked into the bar, glaring at sevika. she ordered everyone out, including you. especially you.

hours had passed and she hadn't come home. to say the very least, you were worried. you anxiously looked out the window of your shared apartment, and you could've sworn that you saw silco's daughter dragging the now-unconscious pink-haired girl out of the bar an hour ago, but no sevika.

the only places she hung around was your apartment, the bar, or silco's office. that's the only other place she could be.

upon entering, doing everything you could not to be seen, you opened the door to the infamous office and saw sevika struggling to light her cigar while sitting in the corner of the couch.

"vika?" you murmured, padding your way into the musty space and getting a better look at your lover. sevika had scrapes and bruises already starting to form on her human arm and face, and the absence of her mechanical arm was what caught your attention.

"oh my god..." you covered your mouth, eyes widening at the torn wires, the scraped metal, and the bright purple shimmer dripping from the tubing and staining the couch and her clothes. you sat down on the coffee table in front of her and placed a hand on her knee. it made you tear up how she flinched from your gentle touch.

"what happened to you?"

her silence, apart from the quiet grunts of shifting on the couch and the clicking of her lighter sparking and failing, was heavy.

"what's there to say?" she mumbled, her soft-spoken side coming through in this vulnerable moment. "you can see what happened."

you knew you shouldn't the one shedding tears, sevika was the one that got her arm ripped clean off, not you. but you just couldn't help but feel everything for your lover.

"we don't have to talk about i–"

"yeah, an' we won't."

she finally got her cigar lit after her grand efforts and she dropped her lighter on the wooden floor with a thud. you looked down at the scarred metal zippo before looking back up to meet her eyes.

"can you at least lemme help you? i'm sure i can fix something."

you were no tech wiz, you were far from it, but because of sevika's habits, you had gotten pretty good with a needle and thread, disinfectant, and some hello kitty bandaids.

despite her shitty mood and terribly low morale, she gave a curt nod and groaned to sit up a little straighter. she gestured with her human arm to where the first aid was in the office, and you were surprised there was any first aid at all.

"where's the worst damage?" you sat back down on the coffee table between her legs, leaning forward while dabbing some gauze with alcohol. "besides the, uh... y'know."

sevika almost laughed, a slight smile gracing her full, dark lips for a moment.

"the gash on my good arm," she husked out, taking a lengthy drag from her cigar before setting it down so you could work your mediocre medical magic.

your lover hissed and swore and whispered many a profanity under her breath every single time something stung or pricked or bled. she was tough, but not immune to pain.

"you're about as fixed as i can get you," you murmured with a gentle smile after tending to sevika's every need, even the wounds she didn't want to bother you with. "what'll you do about the arm, though?"

she scoffed a quick laugh, your heart melting at the genuine smile from her. you'd never tell her how much you loved that teensy little tooth gap of hers.

"what are the chances i get silco's kid to tinker somethin' up for me?" she asked, moving over on the couch to make room for you. she slung her human arm around your shoulder and tucked you in close, pressing the smallest kiss to your temple.

"you're persuasive, mamí. i'm sure she'd cooperate."

@sevikaweek

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika fanfic #sevika week #arcane x reader #lesbian #dee's drabbles

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joelalorian · 3 months

Text

Fall Into Me - Chapter Eleven: Fall Into Me and I'll Catch You Darlin'

dbf!joel x f!reader | WC: 5k | E 18+ mdni

Series Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. Lots of feelings. Joel is his own warning. Angst/despair, fluff, smut - this chapter has the works. Please excuse my lack of medical knowledge. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname used only by her dad and Joel uses various terms of endearment (darlin', sweetheart, etc.).

This is it, folks, the final chapter! Just the epilogue left now. Thank you for coming along on this ride with me. I have fallen in love with this little family and I hope you have as well.

Moodboard by the lovely @mrsmando. Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Chapter Ten | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Four days. Joel hadn’t left your bedside in four days, so immovable that the nurses took pity on him and asked an orderly to setup a cot for him in your hospital room.

You still hadn’t regained consciousness and Joel was losing his god damned mind over it.

The list of your injuries a mile long, among them a bunch of broken things – ankle, nose, ribs, wrist. That’s what you were right now, broken, and you had a hard road to recovery ahead of you. Joel agonized over your condition, freaking out when you had to go back into surgery shortly after coming out of it the first time. He’d barely laid eyes on you before they hauled you away again, machines beeping chaotically at whatever went wrong. You developed a hemorrhage, the doctor later told him, but they caught it in time.

Joel hadn’t stopped crying in four days, except for a brief time when Sarah was discharged. He held her for hours, trying his best not to smother or hurt her as she sat on his lap next to your bed. Aside from a purple cast on Sarah’s broken wrist, her limited injuries were already healing. Joel’s worry over his sweet little girl lessened a bit and he trusted Tommy, your dad, and your best friend, Emily, to watch over her while he sat vigil at your bedside. They brought Sarah by to see you twice a day, every day so far. Still, you hadn’t woken up.

He lost it the first time Sarah saw you lying there, barely recognizable from the injuries you sustained. Face bruised and swollen, body wrapped in casts or dressings. Sarah worried that you were dying, nearly inconsolable at the thought that you might die, might leave her, and her dad, forever. She couldn’t handle it, the thought of losing the only mom she’d ever known, ever wanted.

Joel had to leave the room at his daughter’s visceral expression of the pain she felt, her inconsolable weeping a reflection of his own anguish. He left Tommy to deal with it, and slid down the wall in the hallway, just a little way down from your room, shoulders shaking from the strength of his own sobs as the sound of Sarah’s caterwauling carried through the air. JB was the only one who could reach him through his pain, the understanding of one father for another as they both shed endless tears over you. He sat next to Joel, right there in the hallway, and wept with him, whispering words of praise of how strong you were, how much you loved them all, how you would pull through.

Joel fought hard to believe those words, to trust in JB’s hope as he was quickly losing his. He raged inside at how unfair life could be until he exhausted himself emotionally and fell into a dreamless daze in the cot next to you. When the sun rose above the horizon, he stopped trying to sleep, stopped pretending that he could while you remained unconscious.

“Come on, son. Go home and shower, take a nap in a real bed. You haven’t slept in days. I’ll watch over Spud, and you’ll be my first call if anything happens,” JB insisted the morning of day 5 at the sight of heavy bags beneath the younger man’s eyes.

Opening his mouth to argue, to adamantly refuse, Joel snapped it shut at the concerned look on your dad’s face. He gave into the exhaustion then, all the fight fleeing him, and he stood with shoulders hunched. He was completely deflated, emotionally and physically. “Ok, you’re right. I at least need a shower.”

“That you do. I could smell you down the hall.” Joel’s lips twitched at JB’s comedic effort, but he didn’t have it in him to smile or laugh. “Go on, git. Emily’s at your house with Sarah. She’ll stay while you nap – please try to get some sleep. I don’t want to see you for at least three hours, ya hear me, son?”

Joel nodded and kissed the small spot on your face free of bruising, slinking from the room with one last glance over his shoulder at you. He noticed how your dad kept calling him son – a new development since the accident and it warmed his heart in a way that he sorely needed during this torturous time.

The drive home a blur, his limbs functioning on muscle memory alone, Joel stumbled through the front door of his home with just enough energy to great Emily and Sarah.

“Joel!” Emily exclaimed, jumping from her spot on the couch to pull him into a tight hug. She adored him from the first second you introduced them, finding the man dreamy in that way that was a perfect match for you. It tore her apart to see him falling to pieces over your current condition. “JB commanded that I send you right to bed. Give Sarah a kiss then git goin’.”

Too drained to be disgruntled about being given orders in his own house, he swept Sarah up with tired limbs, ever mindful of her cast. “Hey baby girl. I love you. Have you been good for Miss Emily?”

“Yes, Daddy, I’m always good. Is she any better?” Sarah asked in her sweet, young voice that pulled taut at his heartstrings.

“Not yet,” Joel choked on the words, unable to fight the tears stinging the back of his eyes at his daughter’s worried face. He set her down on the couch before trudging up the stairs. Aching to climb into bed – as empty and cold as it would be without you – but he jumped into the shower first to wash the past few days away.

If only it was that easy.

Joel collapsed on the unmade bed, barely managing to throw a pair of sleep pants on after the quick shower. He was dead asleep seconds after his head hit the pillow.

An hour later, he pried his eyes open, clutching to the warm body clinging to him. For a brief moment, his mind thought it just another normal morning waking up to you at his side. Reality crashed down on him, hard, before he even had the chance to enjoy the thought. Sarah’s frame clung to him like a spider monkey in her sleep. She must have joined him for a nap at some point and was still out cold.

Her steady breathing lulled him back to sleep for another couple hours until Emily woke him with a shout. Joel bolted upright at the echo of his name, heart thumbing in his chest as he jostled Sarah in the process.

“Joel!” Emily called again as she reached the top of the stairs and peeked into his bedroom. “She’s awake!”

Mind still fighting through the fog to wake up, he stared at your best friend with owlish eyes.

“JB just called. She’s awake! You gotta get back to the hospital!” Emily stepped fully into the room, tossing a pair of jeans and a tee shirt at him to get him moving.

“Dad!” Sarah’s uninjured hand nudging him into action as she exclaimed. “Can I come with you?”

Finally, Joel’s mind kicked into gear. You were awake. He had to see you, but first, he needed to get dressed. “Not yet, baby girl. Lemme see how she’s doing and maybe you can see her tomorrow. We don’t want to overwhelm her, okay?”

Flopping back onto the mattress with a pout, Sarah muttered, “Okay,” as Joel eased out of bed with a groan.

It started with muscle twitches. Fingers flexing. A small grimace creasing your battered face. The process to consciousness was a daunting one that ended with fighting against the intubation tube. Even once a nurse came in and removed the tube, you still fought to come fully back to yourself.

“Dad?” Throat dry and raw, you could do little more than croak despite the rising panic. Your eyes darted around the room in confusion, landing first on your dad before taking in the plain white walls and clinical equipment. You were in the hospital, that much was obvious, but you couldn’t recall why. A thick fog wove through your mind, leaving you trying to make sense of anything, everything.

“Hey Spud. Sleeping beauty finally awakens,” your dad teased, his voice gentle but, even with a foggy brain, you picked up on the worried undertone.

“What happened?” It hurt to talk but you needed to know.

“You don’t remember? Of course you don’t, you got a pretty good knock to the head,” he muttered half to himself before tenderly taking your hand between both of his. “You and Sarah were hit by a drunk driver. Does that ring a bell?”

Like a light bulb coming on, things came back to you, brightening the dark corners of your memory. The ride home from school, going to get ice cream, the sudden and unexpected impact as you proceeded through a green light, the car rolling once, twice, then… nothing. With the memory came your brain’s recognition of pain and your body’s aches made themselves well known.

Everything hurt.

Seriously, it hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, to lie still. It hurt to just fucking exist.

“Oh my God, Sarah? Is she okay? Where is she? Where is Joel?” You glanced around the room as if waiting for them jump out from behind something, the panic returning as you gulped for air.

“Calm down, honey. The little nugget is okay. She’s home, Emily’s watching over her now. Joel’s on his way back. I’ll let him tell you how she is, but just know that she’s fine.” JB spoke in short, clipped sentences, not wanting to overwhelm you further, one grizzled hand stroking your hair back like he did when you were sick as a kid.

You tried to sit up but abandoned that idea the moment the room spun, the throbbing pain too much. Fuck, your face hurt like hell.

“Don’t do that, Spud. While Sarah might be okay, you were seriously injured. I’ll let the doctor explain when he comes in, but you shouldn’t try moving or anything just yet. You’re pretty banged up,” he explained softly.

You met your dad’s eyes, and you could see at once the toll your condition took on him. You had so many questions, but you couldn’t process them quite yet. The pair of you sat quietly for a little while until the doctor joined you, explaining the laundry list of injuries you sustained. No wonder everything hurt. They gave you more medicine for the pain now that you regained consciousness – you couldn’t believe you were out for so long – and things started to make more sense in your brain.

You’d be stuck in the hospital for a few more days before the doctor would even think about discharging you. As much as hospitals sucked, you knew it best you stay put when you couldn’t even sit up with collapsing back in pain.

Joel burst into the room shortly after the doctor left. Sipping at a cup of water your dad held for you, you nearly choked at the sight of him. You’d never seen him look so disheveled, so run down, his normal scruff grown out into a near full beard after a week of not shaving, eyes bloodshot and sunken, curls a messy, wild halo around his head.

“Oh darlin’,” Joel said as you attempted to smile at him. The bandages covering portions of your face and the swelling from the repaired break in your nose made it hard, but your eyes sparkled with happiness at the sight of him.

“Hi Joel,” you croaked in return.

He practically launched himself at your side, knocking JB out of the way so he could sit bedside. Hands hovering, afraid to touch, tears glistened in his eyes. “I was so fuckin’ scared. Thought I was gonna lose you.”

Tears sprung to your own dry eyes as the fingers of your uninjured hand tangled with his. The mere tickle of tears in your nose was damn near excruciating. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!”

Startled, Joel’s dark chocolate eyes searched your face, completely baffled. “Darlin’, what? What in the world are you sorry for? You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You blubbered as Joel and your dad stared at you bewildered. “I almost got Sarah killed!”

Joel cracked a smile then, the first one in nearly a week, before leaning forward to place a tender kiss upon your chapped lips. “The hell you did. You didn’t do anything but take care of her. None of this was your fault, sweetheart.”

You couldn’t shake the guilt though, not even days later when the doctor discharged you. Sweet, little Sarah waited for you with a bright smile and a mylar ballon that read Welcome Home as Joel and JB helped you into the house. The sight of the purple cast on her right wrist wiped the smile from your face. How could Joel not see that this was all your fault?

You could hardly hug the girl as guilt overwhelmed you.

Emily and Tommy stood behind Sarah as you wobbled through the front door, smiles not hiding the winces at the healing trauma on your face. Emily could tell at once that you were on the verge of breaking down, unable to take your eyes from the healing contusions on Sarah’s adorable face or the cast on her wrist.

Stepping forward, Emily pulled you into a hug, ever mindful of your healing ribs and incisions. “It’s so good to see you awake and in one piece!” she whispered in your ear. “None of this was your fault, you know that right?”

She knew you too well. You choked on a sob, burying your head in her shoulder for several minutes until you had your emotions back under control.

“Do you wanna sign my cast? Daddy got special markers for it! I wouldn’t let anyone else sign it before you came home.” Sarah held a silver Sharpie up for you, flashing those puppy dog eyes at you. Unable to deny her, you took the marker with a trembling hand and drew a heart on the topside of the cast, your name scrawled sloppily beneath it.

Delighted, Sarah handed Joel the marker next and, with a quick glance at you, printed his name above the heart you drew, adding Sarah’s next to yours so that it now read Joel hearts you & Sarah. The tears returned when both Sarah and Joel gazed at you with unabashed affection.

Perhaps they really did not blame you for the accident, for Sarah’s broken wrist, for all that you put them through in the past week and a half. You weren’t sure if you deserved their love, but you basked in it, allowing it to wash over you and heal your soul.

Six weeks of convalescing at home under the tender care of Joel and Sarah, and you finally felt like yourself again, emotionally, and physically. It took a while, but Joel managed to convince you to set free the irrational guilt you felt over the accident, aided by the news that the drunk driver pleaded guilty.

Wanting to celebrate your recovery and the removal of your and Sarah’s casts, Joel planned a small gathering for July 4th. Just the Millers, JB, Emily and her husband, and Maria – the attorney Tommy fell head over heels for last year finally gave into his advances and they were happily living together now. She was a gem and fell right in with the group, giving as good as she got.

“Darlin’, just put that down, I’ll get it,” Joel insisted as you pulled a plate full of raw steaks from the fridge.

“Joel, I’m not a delicate little flower who will break under the weight of a few steaks,” you teased lovingly. Placing the plate on the counter, you turned to Joel and slipped your arms around his neck. Fingers threading through his curls, you pulled his head down, pressing your lips to his. “I love you.”

Joel’s large hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass as the kiss intensified. “Mmmm, I love you, darlin’,” his deep voice rumbled against your mouth. A knock sounded on the front door as he placed another kiss on your lips. “Now, let me take care of this while you welcome our guests.”

Before long, everyone gathered in the backyard. Your dad, Joel, and Emily’s husband Ed stood around the grill while Joel cooked the steaks and Sarah showed off her swimming skills to Maria and Tommy. You and Emily sat on the patio with glasses of sangria just watching everyone you love.

“I know I’ve said it a million times already but thank you again for being there for them after the accident,” you said as you watched Joel manning the grill with confidence. “I know it couldn’t have been easy and I just want you to know that I appreciate you.”

“Always, that’s what friends are for.” Emily smiled at you. “You really got somethin’ good here, you know. That man, he was a complete wreck while you were in the hospital. And that little girl, she worships the ground you walk on. Those two would do anything for you and I know you would do anything for them.”

You heard from your dad how hard Joel struggled while you were in the hospital, how he barely slept, refused to leave your side. Emily reiterated it all and you knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that you would have done the same if anything happened to him or Sarah.

“I don’t know how I got so lucky,” you said after taking a sip of the fruity red wine concoction. “I can’t imagine my life without them in it.”

“That’s good, really good.” Too busy making googly eyes at Joel, you missed the knowing look Emily shot you.

“She can’t keep her eyes off you, son,” JB teased. “You ready to do the thing?”

“What thing is that?” Ed asked curiously.

“Imma ask her to marry me,” Joel mumbled, already feeling a little nervous. “I got the ring in my pocket, just waiting for the right moment.”

“Good on ya, man!” Ed replied. Turning to JB, he added, “I take it he has your blessing?”

Nodding, JB grinned at his future son-in-law as he replied, “He sure as hell does. I couldn’t have asked for a better man to take care of my little Spud.”

A flush rose along Joel’s neck and moved onto his cheeks at the praise. “Alright, alright. Let’s not talk about it anymore. I don’t wanna risk her overhearing something. I want it to be a surprise.”

The other two men nodded in understanding. “Just one last thing,” Ed said. “You should ask her during the fireworks. I brought my good camera; I’ll make sure to get great shots of it for you and the fireworks will just add to the ambiance.”

The steaks were grilled to perfection, Joel nailing that medium rare sear that you loved, and Maria’s macaroni salad was a hit. Once everyone devoured their food, you jumped into the pool, letting the water ease the lingering ache in your bones while your dad and Emily insisted on helping Joel clean up. Before long, everyone else joined you in floating around to kill time before the town’s fireworks show began. The house was perfectly situated to see them from a distance, so you didn’t have to fight the traffic to find parking in town to see the show.

Drinking in the sight of Joel shirtless, swim trunks sitting low on his hips, you licked your lips hungrily. He dove into the deep end of the pool, swimming underwater until he reached you in the shallow end. Popping up next to you, he slicked his wet curls back from his forehead with a grin. Fuck, he was handsome.

“Hey beautiful,” Joel greeted. “Enjoying yourself?”

Smile so broad your cheeks hurt, you nodded. “Today has been wonderful, thank you, Joel. This was exactly what I needed.”

“I’d do anything for you, darlin’. You know that, right?” he implored, pulling you close so that you could wrap your legs around his waist beneath the water’s surface. “I’ve never been so in love before. You have completely changed my world.”

“I could say the same about you, babe.”

“The fireworks are gonna start soon. Watch to watch them from the patio?”

“Sure,” you replied. So caught up in Joel, you didn’t notice everyone watching you both with broad smiles as the two of you climbed out of the pool.

Settling into one of the cushioned outdoor chairs, the soft glow of the string lights from that special date all those months ago glistening on your damp skin. Joel moved his chair closer and sat, holding his right hand out for yours, he grinned when you twined your fingers with his.

Suddenly, Tommy appeared in front of you both, carrying a fresh glass of sangria for you and an ice-cold beer for Joel. “Here you both go.”

“Thanks Tommy,” you said gratefully.

“You ready?” he asked, his dark eyes glowing warmly in the low lighting.

“For the fireworks?” you replied, slightly confused. “You bet!”

Tommy smiled indulgently, sharing a look with Joel before moving to the poolside to help his girlfriend out of the water.

Glancing around at your friends and family, you found everyone watching the two of you. You had the feeling something was up, that there was something you were missing. Before you could dwell on it, the first bursts of light exploded in the sky, the whistling boom echoing distantly.

Mesmerized by the show, oohing and ahhing with everyone, you didn’t see Joel slip from his seat to kneel next to you. As the finale began, he said your name, drawing your attention away from the sky.

An audible gasp left your lips as he gazed at you, love lighting up his tanned features. Your eyes darted around the yard to find everyone watching you instead of the fireworks, Ed snapping away with that fancy camera of his.

“Joel, what—” you began breathlessly before he cut you off.

“Do you remember that song we danced to, right here in the yard, beneath these very lights?” His smooth voice gave no hints of the nervous energy flowing beneath his skin.

You nodded, recalling the memory fondly. “That was a beautiful night.”

“It was, and I hope to have many more just like it with you.” Still kneeling, he reached his left hand into his pocket and your breath hitched. Your heart nearly dropped when you merely pulled his phone out, tapping at the screen until music began to play in the background.

Taking your hands in his, Joel began to sing along, his deep voice the perfect contrast to the artist’s.

“On the day that I met you,

The world had just spit me out.

On my way to the bottom

Sure I’d never be found.

Then you saw me for me

Made me believe in myself.

On the day that I met

It all turned around.”

Tears stung the back of your eyes, but for the first time in weeks, they were tears of happiness, not pain or guilt. You clutched at Joel as he went to pull his right hand free, and he chuckled.

“I fall more in love with you every single day. I don’t know how I ever got to be this lucky, to find someone like you, who fits so perfectly, so seamlessly into mine and Sarah’s lives.”

You finally loosened your grip so he could pull his right hand free, digging into the zippered pocket as you swiped at the tears coursing down your face.

“You are the woman of my dreams, the one I was sure didn’t exist until I met you. If I promise to fall for you over and over again, will you promise to be my wife, to be Sarah’s mom, to love us from now until forever?”

Gazing into his dark, gorgeous eyes, misty with tears of his own, you nodded. “Yes, yes. A million times, yes, Joel. I’d love to be your wife and Sarah’s mom.”

You were sobbing as he beamed, slipping a beautiful, understated princess cut diamond ring on your finger. It fit perfectly and your heart swelled, the love in you threatening to spill over, to burst straight from your chest. “Joel, it’s so beautiful!”

Joel stood, pulling you with him until your feet left the ground and he spun you in a circle once, twice, before setting you down on solid ground. You lurched forward, sealing your love, your promise with a heated kiss.

As if they hadn’t all witnessed every second of what just happened, Joel looked over at everyone and declared, “She said yes!”

The small group of your favorite people made a racket with their whoops and whistles, JB shouting above the rest, “About fuckin’ time, son!”

Unable to contain herself for another second – she had been incredibly patient, after all, letting her dad do the asking instead of her – Sarah burst from Tommy’s grasp, launching herself at you. Joel helped you sweep her up for a tight hug.

“It’s official now, right?” Sarah questioned, nearly vibrating with excitement. “You’re gonna be my mom now. I finally get to have a mom and not just any mom, but you. The best one I could have asked for.”

Just when you thought the tears ebbed away, the waterworks started once again. “Oh, my sweet, perfect girl. I promise to try my best to be worthy of such an honor. I couldn’t have asked for a better girl to go on this adventure with.”

“This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever witnessed,” Emily said, her voice catching as tears ran down her cheeks as well.

“Agreed,” Maria chimed in with a sniffle and Tommy pulled her close with a dumb grin spreading across his face. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he thought about how he’d propose when the time came.

You and Joel couldn’t keep your hands off each other once Sarah went to bed and everyone left. Your need for each other was too mighty to fight, not that either of you wanted too anyway. He treated you like glass the past six weeks, afraid to hurt you, to aggravate your injuries. You understood, but that didn’t stop the desire, the need for him and it frustrated you that he would not give in. Now that you were mostly healed, you wanted him to make love to you like he used to.

Readying yourselves for bed, you climbed onto the mattress, straddling Joel’s hips where he laid back against the pillows. Half hard already at the mere sight of you naked before him, he grasped your hips to grind your core down on him.

“I need you, my love. I need to feel you inside me. It’s been too long,” your voice a breathy whine against his mouth, your lips touching but not yet kissing. “Let me ride you.”

“Fuck, darlin’,” Joel gasped as you shifted against his now fully hardened cock. “Take what you want, sweetheart.” He watched with lust blown eyes as you slid his sleep pants down his hips, and he kicked them off to lay in a pile at the bottom of the bed.

So wet and needy, you didn’t even need foreplay. Sealing your mouth to his, you swallowed his groan as you slid down on his cock. Pausing for a moment once he was balls deep inside you, fingers threaded through his luscious curls, you sighed in contentment.

“I feel so fucking full, Joel,” you moaned, finally starting to move. “I’ve missed this so much.”

Joel gazed at you, completely enraptured and unable to speak. The words stuck in his throat, he just watched you move on him, his hips shifting upwards to meet your movements. It felt so good he knew he wouldn’t last long, shifting his hand between you to pluck at your clit as you rode him.

“Come for me, darlin’. I need to feel you come apart around me,” the words burst from deep in his chest, dripping with need as he got closer to the edge. Thumb moving frantically against your clit in that way that drove you crazy, he made you come apart within minutes.

“Fuck, Joel!” you gasped, burying your face in his shoulder, biting down on the flesh to stifle your moans. Waves of pleasure washed over you so strong you couldn’t move your hips anymore. Joel took over, thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm as your walls fluttered around him.

You sunk your teeth further into the meat of his trapezius, the shock of pain like a bolt of lightning straight to his cock. His movements grew sloppy as his balls tightened and he came with a guttural growl, sucking at your neck as rope after rope of cum splashed inside you.

Breathless and satiated, you stayed in place, allowing the aftershocks to roll through you both. You brought your hands up to cup his face, the patchy scruff of his beard tickling your palms. The diamond ring on your left hand sparkled in the dim lighting and you grinned down at Joel, so full of love.

He pulled you down to lay with him, his softening cock slipped out of you in the process, and you both ignored the mess as you cuddled together.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” You felt the words rumble from deep in his chest as he spoke them, pulling you impossibly closer until your sweaty skin melded to his. “I fuckin’ love you, darlin.”

Smiling sleepily, you murmured your love for him, your excitement over being engaged, the beauty of the ring he chose for you, until you fell asleep mid-sentence.

Your dreams were no match for the life you and Joel were creating together.

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x female reader #the last of us #tlou #dbf!joel #pedro pascal #idiots in love #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #fic: fall into me

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deliciousangelfestival · 3 months

Text

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 13

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

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Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

“You look just like Ophelia.” The way he said it sounded like he was missing the past. Then it clicked for you immediately: Patrick was your mom's ex-boyfriend.

Bucky, tinged with curiosity and something else, asked, “So you're that Patrick that Cassandra mentioned?”

You were flabbergasted, your mouth hanging open in surprise. Realizing that the person in front of you was your mother's ex-lover and the Patrick, your grandma often mentioned was overwhelming. It meant Patrick was deeply engraved in her mind.

Patrick smiled warmly at the familiar name. “Nana Cassie? How is she?”

You responded, “She's fine, but she has dementia.”

The word 'dementia' erased the smile from Patrick's face. He put his hand on his lips, murmuring, “A lot has changed since I left.”

Then, realizing his lapse in manners, he looked at everyone. “How rude of me. Please, sit down.”

“I can't help but ask, did you want to meet me because I'm Ophelia's daughter?” you inquired.

Patrick nodded, his eyes reflecting a deep sadness. “I swore I would never come back to this country. But when I saw the new leader of Velari, and you looked so much like her… I had to.”

You sensed the agony and darkness in his voice every time he mentioned your mom. It was more than you'd ever seen in your father, that jerk. Even at Ophelia's funeral, he hadn’t shed a single tear.

“Seems like you miss her,” you said softly.

“I do. All the time,” Patrick replied, his voice heavy with emotion.

You crossed your arms. “If you loved her, why weren't you with her?”

Patrick looked at you in silence for a moment before taking a sip of the tea provided by the butler. He put down the teacup gently, his fingers tracing the rim.

“Twenty-five years ago, I would have laughed if someone told me I’d be enjoying an expensive tea inside a mansion,” Patrick said, his tone wistful.

You tilted your head, clearly puzzled.

Patrick noticed your confusion and explained, “I was dirt poor. I’m the child of the gardener who used to take care of the flowers at your grandparents' house. Your grandparents were kind enough to let me and my dad stay in the guest house.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at this revelation.

“Your grandfather was strict, a man of action rather than words. Your grandma, Cassie, was an angel. And Ophelia…” Patrick paused, looking out the window, lost in memories.

“She was my first friend, my partner, my soul mate, and the love of my life,” Patrick continued, his voice filled with longing.

He went on to describe how his love story with Ophelia began as a close friendship. They were inseparable, but their love couldn't continue because of their different social statuses.

Your grandfather discovered their relationship and objected fiercely. Being a military man, he didn't hesitate to give Patrick a harsh lesson. Patrick was beaten and kicked out of the house, his body weak and bruised—a clear warning for Ophelia to end the relationship.

Around the same time, the Sinclairs proposed an engagement that would benefit the family business, further complicating things.

Patrick’s eyes glistened with unshed tears as he recounted the painful past. You could feel the depth of his sorrow and the love he still harbored for your mother.

When Ophelia and Jonathan first met, it was a meeting between two vastly different people. Jonathan was cold and reserved, a man of few words. Ophelia, on the other hand, was sweet and timid, unable to say no to her father’s demands. Cassandra, Ophelia’s mother, knew the marriage would be colder than Antarctica, but she couldn’t speak against her husband; his word was absolute.

To cope with the situation, Cassandra began designing clothes and eventually started the fashion line, Velari. She and Ophelia found solace in creating garments, and the small tailor shop they opened became their sanctuary.

Ophelia and Jonathan got married and started a family after you were born. Your existence brought light to Ophelia's life. But one day, Patrick reappeared, determined to rescue Ophelia from her loveless marriage. When your grandfather and Jonathan discovered Patrick’s intentions, they responded violently, nearly killing him.

This incident shattered the already fragile relationship between Ophelia and Jonathan. The marriage became irreparably broken, but Ophelia managed to endure it, thanks to you, Cassandra, and Velari. However, the ultimate betrayal came when she discovered Jonathan’s affair with his secretary, Genevieve, and learned he had a daughter three years younger than you.

This heartbreak, disappointment, and regret devastated Ophelia. She had sacrificed her love for Patrick for a marriage that gave her nothing but pain. If she had fought harder, she could have been with the man who truly loved her.

Ophelia’s death crushed Cassandra with guilt. She blamed herself for not saving her daughter. If she had stood up to her husband and been content with their life, Ophelia might still be alive, happily married to Patrick, who would have been a loving husband and father.

Your grandfather, burdened by his daughter’s death and his wife’s subsequent loss of joy, began to blame himself. The ultimate betrayal came when he discovered that the Sinclairs, his in-laws, had tried to sabotage his business. Jonathan’s actions cost Ophelia her life and nearly destroyed the family business, leading to your grandfather’s heart attack and leaving this world.

After being beaten, Patrick started from the bottom, working tirelessly to earn money. When he finally succeeded, he was devastated to learn that Ophelia had passed away. With nothing left for him in the country, he left for Europe, where he met Rowan Barnes at a business conference, and the two became friends.

When Rowan mentioned that Bucky was getting engaged to the daughter of Sinclair, Patrick immediately warned him not to fully trust them. Recently, Rowan told him that Bucky had canceled the engagement and had become close to another daughter of Sinclair.

Patrick sighed and asked, “What’s the difference between this one and the other?”

Rowan replied, “This is the legitimate daughter who was kicked out by Jonathan.”

The word ‘kicked out’ resonated with Patrick, who had been expelled many times in his youth. He wondered if this first daughter could be Ophelia’s child. But why didn’t she live with her father?

He had so many questions and started asking around. What he discovered broke him and made his blood boil. Though he shared no blood with you, he knew you were Ophelia’s treasure. She had always wanted a daughter.

Patrick looked at you with sorrow and warmth, wondering if he and Ophelia had run away together and married, would they have had a daughter who looked like you?

“I arrived too late. But if you let me, I’ll be the biggest support you could ever ask for,” Patrick said, his voice filled with earnestness.

When he said that, Rowan raised an eyebrow, wondering if you knew who Patrick was. He was one of the most sought-after clients in the investment world, with assets that made investment managers fight to have him as a client.

Patrick’s face lit up when he heard your gratitude. “Thank you.”

You offered, “Do you want to see my grandma? I’m sure she will be happy to meet you.”

Patrick’s eyes softened, and a nostalgic smile spread across his face. “That would be great. I miss her.”

The room was filled with a mixture of relief and anticipation as Patrick’s offer hung in the air, a promise of support and a connection to the past.

Bucky, who had been standing quietly beside you, felt a surge of protectiveness. He didn’t like how Patrick looked at you for too long, feeling jealous. He took your hand in his, his grip firm but gentle, as if to remind Patrick that you weren’t alone.

Patrick noticed this and chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with understanding. “It seems you have a good protector here,” he said, nodding toward Bucky.

You squeezed Bucky’s hand, grateful for his presence. “Yes, I do.”

☎️☎️☎️☎️☎️

After the meeting with Patrick, you learned so many things about your mother that you had never heard from your father. It seemed like she didn’t exist in his mind anymore.

When you got home, you felt like your life had become so much better after meeting Bucky, even though you hadn’t been polite toward him initially. Life works in mysterious ways.

‘Ring.’

You saw the caller ID and rolled your eyes when you realized it was Jonathan.

“What?” you snapped.

“Is this how you address your dad?” Jonathan's voice dripped with disapproval.

You gritted your teeth. The audacity of this man who neglected you and still wanted you to address him politely. “Your majesty, what honor do I have to receive a call from heaven?” you retorted sarcastically.

You could hear his voice grumble on the other end. “I heard you met someone today.”

He meant that someone must be Patrick. “I met so many people today. I also almost got kidnapped. Did you know that?” you shot back, your voice tinged with annoyance.

“Kidnapped? I guess you’re safe because you can answer your phone,” Jonathan replied dismissively.

You sighed, feeling a mix of frustration and anger. “What do you want? I have to bury my abductor in the backyard.”

“Stay away from him,” Jonathan ordered.

You flinched. Why did he say that? Then it clicked. Was your father jealous?

“He’s a great person. I understand why my mother loved him so much,” you said, pushing his buttons.

Your tease hit the mark. “I’m your father. Not him! Remember that!” Jonathan's voice was filled with fury.

The call ended abruptly. You stared at your phone, shaking your head. Sometimes you wondered if you and he were really related.

The apple does fall far from the tree, you thought. Especially with you and Jonathan.

That's what people would think. If one day they heard that you weren’t Jonathan’s natural daughter, they would believe it.

But no. Even if you wished Jonathan wasn’t your father, DNA said otherwise. He was your father. It was the hardest pill you had to swallow every day.

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asumofwords · 1 year

Text

The Sublet - Roommate!AU

Warnings: She/her pronouns, slow burn, angst. Tags will be added as the fic goes along. Angst, death, mourning, funeral, fluff, smut, daddy kink, breath play, spanking, slapping, fingering, face fucking, degradation, gagging, deep throating, dumbification, edging, creampie, crying, dacryphilia, dirty talking, name calling, rough handling, sadomasochist, sadism, spitting, spitplay, squirt, the correct method of choking, drugs (weed), alcohol, smoking.

Pairings: Modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: Living with Helaena Targaryen was one of the best decisions you had ever made. Meeting at university, the two of you became thick as thieves and quickly best friends, moving into a flat together. But what will happen when Helaena has to leave, and her quiet, brooding, brother moves in?

Notes: Another monstrous chapter sitting at 10+k, because when I said this series was going to only be 15 chapters I meant it hahaha. Goodness, gracious me, here we are. We have come to the end of this series! Thank you so much for all your love and support this whole way through! I hope that you have enjoyed it, and I hope I did the ending some sort of realistic justice. I shall be getting onto my requests now hehehe, anyway, ENJOY! <3

Final Chapter: Stay

Waking that morning, you had not expected to be met with what you were. You had thought that the day would be spent with some awkward, uncertain glances cast Aemond’s way, with the others casting theirs towards you both. Then perhaps you would talk again.

Or fuck.

Or both.

Your little traitorous brain hoped for both.

But no, that's not what you woke up to that morning. You woke up to a nightmare come true. And although all had prepared for it for years, and in fact, the reason why all were back at the Red Keep, it still came as a bombshell that shook the family to its very core.

Viserys was dead.

Gone peacefully in his sleep, found by none other than his doting eldest daughter and wife.

You had woken to the bedroom door shutting, a peak of Criston Cole’s hair in the crack of the door. Helaena stood frozen by it, swaying slightly on her feet before she walked over to the bed and sat down, staring at the far wall.

“Hel?” You sat up, hand coming to touch your best friends shoulder, “What's happened?”

Fear of the unknown settled into your gut.

Her lavender eyes turned to you.

“He’s dead.”

The Keep was in disarray.

Rhaenyra and Daemon were in shambles, having lost a father and brother all in one. It was a most terrible thing to witness. You felt grief yourself for your friends, and for the family as a whole as they moved through the motions of his death, his leaving of their worlds. You felt akin to an invasive species as you sat amongst them, foreign, displaced, unfitting in their neat yet disturbed world.

Lucerys and Jacerys were grieving with their mother and step-father, the twins joining them. As for the other children of Viserys? That was another story.

Amongst the four of them, there was not a single tear shed for their father, bar Aegon in the early light of the morning, stained cheeks hidden in the shadows, red rimmed eyes, and a tiredness that no young man should have at his age, pulling down at his shoulders. But he had swallowed it quickly and quietly as he had for his whole life and went outside to smoke.

You couldn’t however account for Aemond, as he was nowhere to be seen.

Sitting in the gazebo with the three silver haired siblings, you tried to offer condolences, a shoulder to cry on if needed, but all were content to grieve in their own way; Aegon smoking yet another joint, Daeron texting someone animatedly, and Helaena, simply staying quiet and composed beside you.

It wasn’t what you had expected for people to have just lost their father, but you supposed that everyone grieves in their own ways, theirs being much different to your own.

Helaena stood from where she had sat, dressed in all black, something you had not once seen her wear, a stark change to the bright colours that she usually donned. Perhaps this was her way of showing her grief. Her mourning.

Her loss.

“Walk with me.” She said quietly, and you nodded, jumping up as you grasped her hand, letting her lead you down the garden to look at the various plants and trees that were in a part of a gated garden entrance.

Greenery of all sizes, shapes, and colours grew beautifully, small little plaques beneath identifying their scientific name. The Red Keep's garden had some of the rarest of flowers and trees in the whole of the realm. It even had the famed Winter Rose’s from the North in a special greenhouse that kept them in below freezing temperatures.

It was still early in the day, the sun only just rising to its peak as you walked together in silence, your hand in hers as you followed her lead, looking at the shrubs and immense show of wealth. If it weren’t for the reason of your walk, you would have been more animated upon seeing some rare and beautiful orchids, perfectly potted and healthy.

Your steps crunched along the cobblestoned path, twisting around to an extended part of the estate that you hadn’t been to. There, in front of you, was a most beautiful sight to behold.

Ruby red leaves sprouted out of ashen branches, twisting upwards towards the sky.

A Weirwood tree.

And a very old one by the looks of it.

“The Godswood.” Helaena explained to you, taking you closer to it.

You were so entranced by its incredible beauty, thinking of how Cregan's description of his back home didn't do it justice, that you hadn’t even noticed the man that sat amongst its roots, leant back on the trunk.

Aemond Targaryen sat beneath the branches and leaves of a tree that had been a symbol of the Old Gods to his family for hundreds of years. One leg was stretched out in front of him, whilst the other was bent, his long arms crossed over the top of his knee lazily.

He watched you as you came towards him, words caught in your throat.

The light that peaked through the tips of the branches shimmered down on his pale hair, causing it to glimmer with each parting of the leaves from the breeze that rolled through. His face looked flat, emotionless.

Blank.

Helaena’s hand slipped away from yours and you turned to look at her. She gave you a soft smile, before she walked away without a word, leaving you in the small Godswood courtyard with her brother.

You stood for a moment or two, the both of you watching each other before your legs pulled you towards him. You moved to sit beside the long limbed man, pulling your knees up to your chest as you kept your eyes straight ahead, not wanting to make him feel overcrowded, or as if he was being observed. Instead, you hoped that your presence was, at least, the tiniest bit of comfort if he needed it.

You weren’t sure what to do or say as you sat together, both staring off into the distance as the soft rustling of leaves moved overhead. If not for the death that had occurred in the early hours of the morning, the day would have been beautiful.

It was like that for a while, just the both of you. Basking in each others company silently, and yet you felt the need to do more. To say more. To show him more. To show him that you cared, to try and rebuild that bridge that had been torched between the two of you, in the way he had attempted to last night.

You felt guilt knowing that he would have woken up to not only an empty bed, but the news of the death of his father in a Keep he didn’t want to be in, surrounded by people he so desperately tried to avoid.

Tendons and veins pulled beneath the skin of Aemond pale hand as he rubbed a thumb and forefinger together atop his knee.

It was always his hands. Something you had learned rather quickly about him. His hands always moved when in thought, when irritated, lost, or angry.

Any strong emotion caused the man to fidget.

It was a habit that he shared with Helaena, no doubt inherited by their mother.

With no other way to convey what you were feeling, you lifted your hand and placed it atop his. His hand was warm, and twitched beneath yours. Aemond, without wasting a second, flipped his over and held onto yours tightly, threading his fingers through yours atop his knee.

Silence stretched forever until-

“I don’t mourn him.” Aemond’s voice moved with the breeze, soft and quiet, gently carried away from the courtyard, and you felt a pull of sorrow for him deep within your chest.

“We weren’t ever close. Cole was more a father to me than him.” There was a hollowness to his words which you would argue was grief, until he continued, “I don’t grieve the man he was, I grieve the father he could have been to me. The father he should have been to me. Something that I never had.”

Tears prickled in your eyes for him.

Gods.

Why had life been so cruel to this man?

A soft chuckle floated from his lips, a stark difference to his demeanour before, “I used to try so hard to impress him when I was young. Studied, learnt our traditional tongue before any of my other siblings did, and even then, it wasn’t enough for him. I was never enough for him. He was sick, yes,” Frustration bled from his shoulders, tense and closed in, “But he had more time for them than us.”

There was the anger.

Sorrow.

Spite.

Aemond Targaryen had felt he had been in his nephews shadow his whole life.

And it showed.

“It was worse for Aegon. First son and all. A shiny new toy for Viserys before his expectations became too high for Egg and he rebelled. Then nothing he would do could impress the man.”

You squeezed his hand tightly, shuffling across the hard roots of the tree to get closer to him, leaning your shoulder heavily against his, so he could feel your weight, so he could feel the heat of your body. To comfort him, to be there for him, all while not being smothering.

“I’m sorry, Aemond.”

He shook his head, long strand of silver falling over his shoulder as he looked at you, “Don’t be.”

Silence fell over you again, and you watched as a lone red leaf, pointed sides and all, slowly drifted from above the two of you down onto the grassy ground below. It swooped from side to side, spinning gently before soundlessly falling amongst green blades.

You didn’t want him to be alone.

You didn’t want him to feel isolated.

And in your restless, sleepless night, you had thought about him.

“It’s going to be okay.” You whispered, and watched as he turned his head to look back at you, his lone eye searching your face.

Your thumb soothed over his gently, your words having more than one meaning.

His bottom lip was pulled into his mouth by his teeth, and then his voice came up and out from deep within his chest as he gazed at you intensely, clouded eye unmoving, and the sun shining down onto his scarred side of his face.

“Stay.” He asked you for the very first time.

A stark opposite to all the times you had uttered that word to him.

Asked him to stay with you.

It was first time he spoke that four lettered word to you, beneath the crimson leaves of the ancient Godswood in a home that he had grown in.

You heeded his request.

Together, you sat beneath the branches and looked up through them, side by side in a wordless promise to each other.

Stay.

The next few days were a whirlwind. The funeral was held on the grounds of the estate, people from all over flying in to say their goodbyes to the patriarch of House Targaryen.

At first you had asked Helaena if you could go back home, not wanting to intrude on her families grief, but she had insisted, no, begged for you to stay for the funeral.

And so you had.

It was an intense and sad ordeal, but not once did you leave Helaena or Aemond’s side. You stuck by them both, and he always came to you.

Crossing the kitchen to come to you. Crossing the dining table outside to come to you. Crossing the hall to come to Helaena’s room and sit on the bed with the two of you, happy to be just in your presence and not say a thing.

Aegon had silently cried at the funeral. The only child of Alicent to do so. You had watched as fat tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, eyes cast at the coffin of his father, as his mother stood stoically beside him.

Alicent Hightower had cried softly when she had read the eulogy, then followed by Rhaenyra and Daemon's. It was the only time that you felt you would ever see the pair look out of their usual controlled demeanour.

After the funeral, there was the service, where all came to Rhaenyra and Alicent to offer their condolences, the two women standing side by side in all black. At one point, you had watched as Alicent’s pinky reached out, searching for Rhaenyra’s hand. It had curled against the other woman’s, and you watched as the other tilted her head slightly in shock, before she made a larger move, and curled her hand directly around the auburn haired woman’s beside her.

It was days after the funeral before all of you were back together again, side by side.

It had been a long day, longer than the last, and the night had bled into the sky in a deep purple before turning to its deeper shade of blue. Aegon had done rounds, going to each and every room to tell all to meet him down at the pool for some well needed drinks.

Aemond had been sat at Helaena’s vanity watching the two of you sit on the bed and softly giggle at a message Sara had sent her, your silver haired friend more intent on moving forward than looking back.

Hand in Helaena’s, you led her and Aemond down to the pool, not bothering to put swimmers on.

It was dark outside, the usual lights strung about the garden having been turned off, the only source of light coming from the moon, the stars, and the smaller lights that edged around the pools perimeter.

The others were already there, you having seemingly been the last pitstop, passing around popped bottles of champagne, wine and beer. There was the sweet, dank smell of Aegon’s weed again in the air, the short haired man leant back on his elbows as he looked up at the sky, bottle of Moët in one hand.

It was awkward at first, what with Jacaerys and Aemond’s outburst the last time you were all together before the funeral, but before long, and with the help of your trusty liquid courage, all seemed to melt into the numb feeling that the alcohol brought them.

You laid back in one of the armchairs, Helaena, between your legs, head resting on your stomach as you brushed the silver strands away from her face as she looked up at the stars. Aemond watched from beside you, having pulled over one of the other poolside chairs.

The twins, and the brown haired boys were sat at the waters edge with Aegon, their legs dangling into the pool as they swung them softly back and forth, drinking and talking quietly amongst themselves.

Daeron, having disappeared for a moment, came back with his speaker, softly playing music through it to fill the gentle quiet that surrounded you all.

It was soft, calm, and peaceful enough for such a tumultuous time, and as the night got longer, and bottles of alcohol became drained, blunts were passed, and inhibitions were lowered, smiles and laughter were shared amongst all.

Even Aemond.

But that stillness was disturbed when the tipsy, brown haired Lucerys stood and faced everyone, bottle of red wine in hand. The smiles dissipated, and a serious energy floated amongst everyone again.

“I want to make a toast.” The young man said with drunken confidence, thrusting out the wine bottle towards Aegon, “To Viserys.”

Jacaerys lifted his beer towards his younger brother, the twins following suit with their cans of fruity mixer.

Lucerys’ eyes fell on Aemond, before his lips pulled down solemnly, turning away to roam his gaze on everyone else, “He wasn’t a perfect man-”

Aemond quietly scoffed beside you.

“-But if it wasn’t for him, none of us would be here.”

Aegon hummed in agreement, sipping deeply from his almost empty bottle of Moët.

Lucerys’s gaze fell to you as he scratched the back of his neck, “Except you, Y/n. You’d still be here. Well, not here here. But you’d still-“

“-Alright, move it on.” Baela joked lovingly at him as he began to ramble.

Straightening his posture, Luc thrust his wine up to the sky, “To Viserys.”

All lifted their drinks up to toast, bar Aemond, hands bringing wine to their lips, beer to their mouths, or champagne to their tongues. You offered Aemond a small, sad smile, and he returned it, sipping at his beer in thought.

It wasn’t a full toast per-say like the others, but he drank in the mans honour regardless.

A large palm opened up towards you, pale fingers lazily spread in offering. You looked at his long digits, signet ring on one.

“Come here.” Aemond hummed, gentle look in his eye.

Helaena pulled herself from your lap and looked at her brother, “I thought you’d never ask!” She chirped playfully, and he rolled his eye at her.

A small giggle fell from your lips as you looked at his hand again. Still outstretched towards you in front of everyone.

In front of everyone.

Your heart raced in your chest as you stood, placing your hand in his, the warmth of his palm spreading up your arm as you moved over to Aemond, who pulled you between his long legs in a similar way you had done with Helaena. His legs were bent on either side of you with your back against his chest. You felt his chin dip to rest at the top of your head, and a warmth spread through your chest like wildfire.

Helaena smiled at your warmly as Aegon craned his neck backwards to look at the two of you.

“How long has this been going on?” He teased, glassy eyes narrowing on the both of you.

Lucerys, who had sat back down beside his brother after his toast, turned around with Jacaerys to observe. And when their heads turned, the others followed.

Heat rose in your cheeks and you felt a sudden shyness at it all. The urge to hide was strong.

But really, what was this?

You didn’t know.

But it was something.

Something more than before.

But still, you didn’t have an answer, so you moved to respond.

“Oh, we’re n-“

“-A while. I was just a dick about it.” Aemond interrupted you, and your heart soared.

Did he -

Did he just-

Did he just confirm your thoughts?

Did he just validate your feelings?

Answer all your burning questions that had kept you awake at night?

A while.

That implied that this was more.

That this had always been more.

That this was solid.

That this was-

“So that’s why you wouldn’t fuck me.” Aegon pouted, smirk pulling at his lips.

Aemond sighed heavily behind you, “That and the fact that you’re utterly repulsive.”

Aegon’s mouth dropped open as he stared at his brother, “You wound me! I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who haven’t found me repulsive.”

“Too many, if you ask me.” Helaena snickered.

Aegon flicked his joint at his sister, standing straight as he looked down at everyone.

“Good thing I didn't ask you. I’ll have you know I’m polyglamourous.” Hands on his hips.

“Polyamorous.” Daeron corrected his brother.

Aegon grinned, victory in his cheeks, “I meant what I said.”

Aemond’s hand rubbed up and down your thigh soothingly as the night moved on, goosebumps rising on your flesh with each stroke of his long fingers. His chest was warm against your back, and you felt that you could fall asleep from where you were.

Helaena squealed at her phone loudly, breaking you from your fatigued thoughts.

“What is it?” You turned to face her, watching as a large grin pulled at her lips.

“Sara got us tickets to see the Phantom of the Opera!”

“What!”

“Yes!” She shook her phone in her hand whilst she screamed in excitement, “I can’t believe she remembered!”

Aemond chuckled from behind you, chest vibrating against your back, “Of course she'd remember. She’s in love with you.”

Your best friend suddenly became shy, a blush rising on her cheeks rapidly, turning them a bright red that even in the darkness of the night, you could see, “I know that. I just can’t believe it.”

“I’m jealous. Ask her where my ticket is.” You teased, “So I guess this means I’ll be seeing more of Sara again?”

Helaena gave you a knowing smirk, and you gave her one right back.

You were happy for her.

Really happy.

They were perfect for each other. And you always knew that they would get back together again. That and Helaena always told you so, and Helaena was never wrong.

Aegon having come round to where you sat, snatched his sisters bottle of Prosecco, downing the remainder in one gulp, a refreshed and exaggerated gasp filling the air as he ruffled her hair, a growl and swat of a hand coming for his arm which he dodged last second.

Aegon giggled, running around the rim of the pool, shoes kicked in one direction, socks thrown in the other, shirt torn from his back in one yank, and then came his pants. Your eyes widened as Aegon stripped himself nude before jumping into the pool with a yell.

He emerged from the cool water with a flick of his wet hair laughing, sending a hand splashing towards the twins and he smiled, “Come onnnn, live a little! Get in!”

Baela and Rhaena gave each other a shared look before standing, stripping themselves of their clothes before jumping in, hand in hand.

Before you knew it, you were all stripped bare, splashing about in the pool laughing and swimming around.

Even Aemond.

His cheeks were pulled taut by the grin plastered to his face as he swam towards you, tickling your sides as you screamed for backup from Baela and Rhaena, who swam towards you, a flurry of splashes and squeals until his large palms rose above the water and conceded.

Aegon pulled another spliff from the side of the pool and passed it around, and although it was dark, and you couldn’t see the details of anyones bodies, you still felt slightly shy in knowing that not only were you naked, but you were naked with a certain someone pressed up against your back.

At one point, you could have sworn you felt his cock twitch against the cheek of your ass, but you shrugged it off, going to the others as they tossed a ball like piggy in the middle back and forth, little Lucerys in the centre trying to jump up to catch it with all his might.

Eventually the water grew cold, and as you swam to sip at some of Baela’s drink, Aemond slid from behind you, hand wrapping around your waist. Heat spread through you as you felt him press up against you, mouth beside your ear.

“I think it's time for bed, don’t you?” He whispered hoarsely.

You bit your lip turning your head to try and sneak a peak at him, but was interrupted by a loud and obnoxious wolf whistle.

Aegon grinned at you both, “No fucking in mummy’s pool.”

“Ugh, Aegon. What the fuck.” Helaena grimaced.

A laugh exploded from your lips as you turned to look at Aemond, who was chewing the inside of his cheek, desperate to hide the smirk that was rising on his face.

“Come on.” He urged you, tilting his head to outside of the pool.

You climbed out with his help, getting dressed, all the while Aegon continued to whistle at the two of you and make obscene noises. But it was short lived as Helaena pushed Aegon’s head under water with all her weight, Jacaerys and Luc clapping in laughter.

You saw this as your out and grabbed Aemond’s hand, racing him through the Keep in fits of giggles until you reached his room, anticipation strumming in your gut. You watched as he shut the door behind him, turning to face you. His hair was wet, much like yours, and he advanced on you slowly, energy bouncing around inside of you.

“Come here.” He beckoned you with a finger, soft smirk on his lips.

You shook your head at him cheekily, “Nuh uh.”

His head tilted as he looked at you, “Please.”

Your feet carried you towards him, a magnetic pull dragging your chest to his. He smiled warmly down at you, cupping your cheek with one hand as the other dragged a wet strand of hair away from your face.

“Beautiful.” He praised you, before dipping his head down to kiss you.

Aemond bent slightly as your arms wrapped around his neck, large hands wrapping around your thighs as he hoisted you up into his arms, carrying you towards the bed as you didn’t once break the kiss.

It wasn’t hurried like the last time.

It wasn’t frenzied.

This time, you took your time with each other.

Aemond stripped you of your wet clothes and brought you to your peak on his tongue, his name whispered from your mouth like a prayer. He hovered above you as he slid in, watching the way your mouth opened and brows furrowed at the stretch, his lips pressing sweet kisses to the side of your face as he slowly moved through your folds, the tip of his cock rubbing against every point within you.

“So fucking beautiful.” He praised you as you fell apart once again on his cock, walls gripping his length tightly as you keened and whined, hands gripping the sheets for dear life as he smiled sweetly at you.

This was a side of Aemond you hadn’t seen before, and a side you hoped to see more.

He came with a quiet moan of your name, head dipping down into the crux of your neck as he planted kiss after kiss there.

You spent the rest of your night together curled in each others embrace, falling asleep with one word echoing in your mind.

Stay.

Waking up in a dark green and black room was disorientating at first, probably exacerbated by the steady strumming of a slight hangover in the back of your mind. But the warmth of two strong arms wrapped around you, and the familiar scent of Aemond that filled the space between, reminded you of where you were, and who you were with.

Your eyes opened as you looked up at him. His good eye still shut, chest rising and falling slowly.

Everything had happened so fast.

It was as if a match had been lit and set you both ablaze. The two of you burning together hotly, in more ways than one. Your tempers. Your stubbornness, but more importantly, your desire to be with one another.

It was different with him.

Unlike anyone else before.

Passionate.

Fiery.

All encompassing.

And you relished in it.

Relished in the fact that not only was it real, not only tangible, but Aemond had made it open last night as he had pulled you into his lap in front of everyone, and verbally confirmed what had been happening all along.

You weren’t ‘Helaena’s roommate’.

You were more.

You knew that now.

His confession for his love for you however, was something that the two of you would dissect on a later date. But right now? You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel the same way. Didn’t feel the same pull in your heart towards him when he would smile, or laugh, or just look at you. Or how your body would be set alight with even just a touch of his hand.

Aemond Targaryen had you well and truly under his spell.

And there was no other place you’d rather be.

Aemond shifted beside you, eye blinking open sleepily before he looked down at you.

“Morning.” His voice crackled with sleep, mouth opening in a small yawn before he pressed a kiss to the top of your forehead.

Your heart raced in your chest.

“Morning.”

Aemond squeezed you to him tighter as he stretched out the fatigue in his limbs, a whiny grunt escaping his lips.

That was noise you hadn’t heard before.

He sounded content.

Comfortable.

Safe.

But there was still one final thing.

You wanted to be sure that last night wasn’t just a drunken little display, or a declaration emboldened by the grief around the others tainted by possessiveness against Jacaerys.

“What happens now?” You asked quietly, watching as he blinked at you again.

“Whatever happens, happens.” His voice was deep, lulling you into a calm, “But I know I want to be with you.”

Here it was.

“Are you sure?” Your eyes searched his face.

This was it.

His last chance to back out.

His last chance to say no.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You couldn’t contain the grin that creeped on your face, hands pulling him down into a relieved kiss, pouring your adoration and care for him into it as much as you could.

He returned it equally with fever.

Heat ran through you as you pressed yourself closer to him, gasping into his mouth as you felt his cock twitch against your thigh. Aemond groaned into the kiss but pulled away.

You looked at him in confusion.

“Come on, we got to have breakfast with the others.”

You whined, plopping back into the pillows with a huff, “I don’t want to.”

Aemond chuckled from beside you, sitting up in the bed as he ripped the sheets away from your body, exposing your naked form. You rolled over onto your stomach, hiding your face in the pillow as you whined.

Two light smacks landed on the cheek of your ass, and you cried out in surprise, “Come on, grumpy.” He teased, “I’ll give you what you want after. But first, we need to eat.”

At the promise of getting what you wanted, you rolled out of bed, begrudgingly, looking at your semi wet pile of clothes in disgust.

You could do a run down the hall to Helaena’s room, but you could also be spotted running nude through the estate, which to you, didn’t seem appropriate considering the funeral held there only a few days past.

Aemond must have noticed your predicament, “Here.” He came over to you, handing you one of his black shirts and those grey sweats you loved so much.

You threw them on, the top coming down to your mid thigh. The pants however, didn’t stay up, and kept sliding down your legs no matter how much you tightened the strings or rolled them at your hips.

Aemond laughed at you as you stepped out of the pants and threw them at him in a huff.

“I need pants.” You whined, searching his room.

“Would prefer it if you didn’t.” He raised a brow at you.

Your core clenched around nothing as you looked at him, his stance challenging you to obey.

So this is the game he wanted to play.

Smirking, you turned to the door, opening it up, “Come on. We will be late.”

You left without looking back, not getting to see the way Aemond’s tongue poked into his cheek, watching you trot out of his room clad in his shirt.

Only his shirt.

The others were seated at the table outside picking at the spread. They all greeted you both as you moved sit down, except Aegon, who’s head was in his arms atop the table as he groaned dramatically and loudly for all to hear.

“Is he alright?” You asked Helaena, watching as she rolled her eyes at her older brothers antics.

“He’s fine. He’s just a drama Queen.”

“Drama King.” He grumbled back.

You ate together for a while before catching Helaena’s attention, it wasn’t something you wished to do, but it was something you had to nonetheless.

You had to go home, and what was more, you had to go back to work.

“Hel, is Criston around today?” You asked, plopping a sweet piece of watermelon into your mouth.

“I think so. Mum’s home today. Why?” Her head leant against her hand as she twirled one of her dragonfly earrings in between her fingers.

“I have to go back to work. I’ve used far too much of your mothers generosity, and uni starts back up next week.”

Helaena sat up straighter, “Holy shit, that’s next week?”

You nodded, “Yep. Not looking forward to Orwyle’s Citadel History class. Man could bore you to tears. I think I’ve actually cried once or twice.” You joked, rolling around a slice of starfruit on your plate before plopping it into your mouth, enjoying the sweet nectar that coated your tongue.

“Are you going to take Rhaenyra’s offer?” Helaena asked, eyes flitting from you and then to Aemond.

“What offer?” Came the grumbling groan of Aegon, his head lifting momentarily to look at you.

If he wasn’t speaking and breathing in front of you, you would have mistaken the man for being dead. Dark rings sat beneath his eyes, and his pale skin had a sallow dullness to it that made him look almost grey.

“Rhaenyra offered her a job at her firm.” Helaena confirmed.

Aegon grunted, dropping his head back into his arms.

“I didn’t know she offered you a job.” Aemond looked at you from the side, brows pulling slightly.

Why did you feel a slight stab guilt in not telling him?

But how could you have?

It had been a whirlwind since she spoke to you.

The offer.

Aemond returning.

Your spat.

Your make up.

Viserys’ death.

It didn’t seem like the right thing to bring up at that time, and if you were being truly honest, you hadn’t even thought of it since his arrival.

“I didn’t have the chance to tell you with everything that’s happened.”

Aemond hummed, and so you continued, turning to face Helaena, “I think so. I need to give it a proper thought when I get home though.”

Helaena nodded at you, “I’ll speak to Cole after breakfast.” She promised, and resumed her eating.

You thanked her with a smile before doing the same.

“You should take it.”

His words came as a surprise.

You placed your fork back onto the plate as you looked at the man at your side. His face was honest and open, there wasn’t a sneer or grimace, or even the straight line that his lips did when he was upset.

He was being genuine.

You brows twitched as you wordlessly urged him to continue.

“My sister, despite everything, is a hard worker. She’ll look after you and make sure you’re taken care of. Besides, her firm is likely more your style anyway.”

“What do you mean by that?” You probed casually, trying to hide your real intrigue behind another piece of fruit in your mouth.

“More…” Aemond thought for a second, and then it came with a cheeky smirk, “Woman led.”

Helaena stayed true to her word and had Cole come to take you home, or at least, back to the private runway where that sleek jet picked you up once again.

You said your goodbyes to all, giving everyone a tight squeeze, especially Alicent Hightower, who you thanked for her endless generosity in having you there at such a tough time.

However, you wouldn’t be going home alone. Aemond was coming with you, citing the need to be with you, and the need to get away from a place he hated.

When you moved to say your goodbyes to your best friend, you asked her when she would be back with you, mind wondering when you would need to part ways with Aemond's presence.

“I’m going to stay here for the next month." She told you, "I’ve already emailed uni.”

“The next month?” You felt sadness in your chest. Another month without your best friend.

You were going to miss her.

“Yeah,” She kicked at the gravel at her feet, “Mum needs me here for the solicitors and the Will and Testimony reading.”

“Oh? Are you going to be okay?”

Helaena pulled you in for a hug and whispered into your ear, “I’m going to be taken away in a straight jacket by the end of this.” Before pulling back to smile again, cheekier this time, “Besides, I’m sure Aemond will keep you company.”

His smooth voice came from beside you, “I have no plans on leaving.”

The flight home was quick with his company, and on more than one occasion, you had to swat his hands away from you as he whispered the chance of joining the mile high club in his mothers jet.

It felt good to be home as you stepped through the front door, dropping your keys in the empty bowl, followed by the sound of Aemond dropping his in beside it.

It made you smile, the familiar scent of your apartment, the soft glow of light, it's tidiness perfect for your arrival home. You turned back, grin tugging on your lips to look at the man behind you, only to see him looking at you hungrily.

You continued forward, butterflied erupting in your stomach as you felt the warmth of his gaze behind you. You dropped your bags in the lounge room and stretched your arms up high, the day dress you were wearing sliding up your thighs.

Aemond watched you with a hooded eye, and the heat you had felt that morning came back tenfold.

And then you remembered.

“You didn’t make do on your promise.” You smirked.

Aemond raised a brow at you as he dropped his bags next to yours, hands flexing at his side, urging you to elaborate.

“You said you’d give me what I want after breakfast." You purred, "It’s past lunch.”

The silver haired man’s lip twitched as he looked at you, tongue in cheek, “Look whose gotten all bratty the moment we get home.”

Home.

The word sent heat straight to your core.

“Not my fault you're a liar.” You teased back, feeling confident to push him now that you knew where you stood. Now that you were home, away from his family, away from it all. It was now just the two of you.

You and him.

“A liar?”

“Uh huh.”

“Did I say when I would?”

You brows furrowed, “After breakfast.”

“And is lunch not after breakfast?”

Your eyes narrowed at him.

“Dick.”

Aemond’s demeanour changed entirely, posture straightening which gave him an extra inch of height. He looked down his nose at you as he watched you take a smirking step back, “Come here.”

You had to push down the flurry of excitement that almost unleashed a giggle into the room, “Make me.”

Your chest rose and fell sharply as you watched Aemond take a slow step towards you, and then another.

“Last chance, baby. Come here.”

"No."

Spinning on your heel you ran towards your room, Aemond's boots beating on the floorboards behind you coming closer. Hands wrapped around your waist and pulled you up, squeal erupting from your chest as you tried to wriggle out of his grip.

“That was very naughty of you.” His voice whispered hoarsely at your ear from behind, hot breath fanning down your neck.

You stifled a whimper as his fingers dug into your skin before he threw you down onto the bed, face first. Your hands flew outwards, catching yourself as your hips hit the end of the bed. Aemond was on you in an instant, pawing at your dress as he ripped it off of you.

“This what you want, huh? Want me to put you in your place? Little brat.”

Your hands moved behind you to tried to slap his arms as he yanked your panties down your legs in one long swoop. Aemond tutted from behind you as he kicked your legs apart, your lip caught in your teeth as you tried not to whimper.

“Look at you. Already soaked. Such a dirty little slut, aren’t you?”

His hand cast down onto the flesh of your ass and you cried out, back arching as the delicious sting spread through your skin. He pulled your cheeks apart roughly and spat onto your dripping entrance.

“Filthy little fuck hole.” Aemond growled, and you mewled as you felt his spit run between your thighs and drip down onto the floor below.

His fingers smeared his spit into your folds, parting them easily as he looked down at you and cooed, your head craning back to watch him as he chuckled darkly, “What am I going to do with you, hm? You want me to fuck this pretty little pussy, baby?”

Your legs tried to shut so that you could apply pressure with the squeezing of your thighs, but Aemond's legs were in the way, preventing you from getting any release of the tingling that spread through your aching centre.

“Please.” You murmured, pouting at him the best you could in the hopes that it would entice him to take you right then and there.

Another chuckle rumbled in his chest as he let one long finger circle around your entrance, the tip of it just barely pushing inside before it came back out again, teasing you.

“I don’t think you deserve it.” He hummed.

“Please, Aemond.”

“Not my name, sweetheart.”

A shiver ran down your spine, your eyes sliding shut, “Please daddy.”

The warmth from his body disappeared as he stepped back, your eyes opening to find him looking down at you with a stern face. Your heart raced in your chest, his height towering over you, dominance dripping from his every fibre of his being.

“Kneel.”

Gods be good.

Your eyes widened as you stared at him, his hands coming to undo his belt buckle slowly, watching as you didn’t move. He pulled the belt slowly from the loops, to soft flipp loud in the room. The belt dropped to the floor with a thud.

“I said,” Aemond moved quicker than you could react, grabbing a fist full of your hair and dragging you off of the bed onto your knees, “Kneel.”

The wooden floor bit into the skin on your knees sharply, but it was dull in comparison to the sheer desire to be ravaged by the man in front of you.

Long fingers slowly dragged down the zipper of his pants, opening it with languid movements as he kept his eye completely and utterly upon your face.

“Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You watched as he pulled his hard length from his briefs, running his fist from base to top slowly, the tip leaking a drop of precum that he smeared down his shaft.

Aemond hummed, “What? Can’t talk now?”

You shook your head defiantly as he took a step closer, “I’m going to ask you one last time,” His voice grew deeper, darker, and it added to the slick that was settling in the crux of your thighs, “Were you being bratty to get a reaction?”

You shook your head.

No.

Liar.

Aemond clicked his tongue at you in disappointment before sighing loudly, “Thought you’d say that. I’ve got a better use for that mouth of yours.” One hand in your hair, he tugged you forward, “Open.”

You don’t know what it was about this man, or what he did to you to make you the way you were with him. The way he absolutely ruined every inch of your mind and thoughts, the urge to both please him and defy him coursing through you all at once, but you wouldn’t give in. No, you needed him to react, you needed him to take what he wanted from you with force.

So biting the insides of your cheeks to keep you from smiling, you defiantly kept your mouth shut as you looked up at him from your knees.

The corner of his lip twitched as he hummed at you.

The sting across your cheek came quickly and stunned you enough to open your mouth in a gasp, exactly as he had planned when he slapped you. He grabbed your jaw with the entirety of his hand and squeezed at the joint meanly, mouth falling open further in pain.

Aemond slid his cock straight into your open lips, his heady weight sitting upon your tongue as he looked down at you, still holding the base with one hand, your jaw in the other.

“There you go. Far more useful with my cock in your mouth.” He grunted, pulling out slowly as you curled your tongue upwards, running it along the underside of his shaft, pressing into the long vein that travelled along it.

Aemond began to thrust into the back of your throat, letting go of the base so that the whole length of him would slide into your mouth. His cock was salty on your tongue, hot, swollen, and heavy in your mouth as he forced you to take him as deep as it would go.

You gagged on his length, eyes watering as you shut them tightly.

Two little slaps on your cheek made your eyes open back up, staring at him as he looked down at you, “Eyes on me while I fuck this pretty little mouth of yours.”

You moaned around his length, thighs rubbing together in an attempt to relieve the tension that was building between them. But it was fruitless. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t what you needed, and what you needed was his fingers, his tongue, or his cock inside of you.

The silver haired man thrusted into your mouth the way he would into your cunt, deep, long and hard, his tip beating against the back of your throat as he used you for his own pleasure.

It was exhilarating, intoxicating, and exactly what you had wanted.

You wanted him to use you like this, to get it all out, to get out all the tension that had been hovering over him the minute he stepped into the Keep.

He needed this just as much as you did.

A thick line of saliva ran down your chin, dripping onto your thighs below as both hands wrapped around the sides and back of your skull, dragging your head up and down his length roughly. His brow was furrowed as he watched, mouth agape as he breathed shallowly and grunted.

“Look at you," He cooed down at you, "Just a hole for me to fuck. Just a little slut begging for daddy’s cock, isn’t that right?”

You hummed around his length, sucking your cheeks inwards as much as you could. Aemond hissed at the pressure, eye sliding shut momentarily as his hips stuttered.

It was a glorious sight.

You below him, looking up as his head was thrown back, ecstasy breaking out on his features as his pearly hair cascaded around his shoulders.

Your head was pulled away, length slipping from your lips as you gasped for air, a line of spit connecting you to his tip as he cooed at you.

“Open.”

You opened your mouth wider, tongue poking out for him. His cheeks hollowed and then Aemond spat onto your tongue, its warmth spreading from your mouth, all the way through your body.

You moved to shut your mouth to swallow for him like you thought he wanted, but he stopped you with a finger, pressing down on your tongue as he smeared his spit along the wet, pink muscle messily.

With little care, two fingers slid down to the back of your throat as he looked at you, your mouth still open waiting for a command. Aemond slowly fucked your throat with his fingers, grinning at the small gags that he elicited from the action, before pulling his fingers from your mouth, smearing his spit and yours across your face, the wetness sticking to your heated cheeks.

“Such a messy girl. So dirty.” He purred, lining his cock back up to your mouth which you took with ease, except this time, Aemond didn’t fuck your throat.

He slid his length all the way down your throat, cock pressing into your gag reflex and blocking off your air. Your nose met his pelvis as he looked down at you, shaking your head slightly side to side on his length.

“Hold it.” He growled, watching as a tear ran down your cheek as you tried to not cough or splutter on his length, chest heaving as you gagged, no air being able to pass through your nose.

Your head grew dizzy as you looked at him, lungs beginning to burn, but still he didn’t let you pull back. Holding you down onto him by the back of your head.

Your hands flew to his thighs for grip as you tried to pull away, but Aemond kept his cock nestled deeply in your throat.

“You can do it, pretty girl." He told you, "Five more seconds.”

Another tear slid down your cheek, the weight of him in your throat making your core flutter around nothing.

“Five.” He began to count down, watching as you squirmed below him.

“Four.” Your nails dug into his flesh harshly as you tried to keep on him, throat swallowing around him tightly in reflex, causing a shiver to roll through his body.

“Three.”

“Two.” He grunted, pulling you down harder on his length causing more tears to fall from your eyes.

“One.”

Aemond pulled you off his length, your lungs burning as you gasped in a lungful of air, spluttering and coughing at his feet.

“Good girl.” He praised, wiping the tears from your cheeks that had left wet tracks down your face.

You coughed softly, throat aching and head spinning, feeling embarrassed and aroused all in one. The head rush from lack of air was almost as intense as the head rush you got from your desire.

“Open.”

You licked your lips and swallowed doing as you were told, feeling Aemond slide his cock slowly into the back of your throat again, but this time, you inhaled a large lungful of air in preparation. He pulled your head down all the way, nose nestled into the hair at his base as he looked down at you.

“Good girl, baby. Look at you.” You moaned around his length, feeling tears in your eyes again as he nudged your gag reflex.

“Hold it.” His voice cracked, watching a tear slide down your cheek as he brushed hair away from your forehead gently, “You're going to hold it for ten this time.”

Ten.

Oh shit.

You didn't know if you could.

But you wanted to please him.

You wanted to be good for him.

“Ten.” Aemond began to count down again, pushing his hips slightly forward, making his cock go even deeper than you thought it could, throat bulging slightly from his length, your eyes widening as you squirmed below.

“Nine.”

“Eight.”

“Seven.” Your core clenched as he counted, watching through blurry eyes as he looked at you on your knees before him.

“S-ix.” He moaned, eye sliding shut as he felt your throat closing around him as your body tried to swallow the blockage that was his cock.

“Five.”

The room spun slightly and you began to shift below him, brain controlling you as it tried to pull you away to get air into your lungs instinctually.

“Four." Heat rose in your cheeks as you squirmed, head trying to move backwards from his grip.

"Stay still." He growled down at you. Despite his command, you still wriggled, slick sliding between your thighs as it began to drip down onto the floor below.

“Almost there, baby. Three.”

Your arms tried to push yourself back, pure instinct taking over, your hands on his thighs, vision in the corner of your eyes going dark.

Was he purposely counting slow?

Oh Gods.

He was.

“Two.”

You were almost there. Your fingers fisted against his thighs, and despite his face being blurred by your tears above, you couldn’t help but notice the sadistic smile that pulled at his sharp lips.

“Two and three quarters.”

Dick.

Your eyes narrowed at him, causing the man to chuckle.

“One.”

You ripped yourself away with a gasp, falling backwards onto your bum as you coughed and spluttered, drool hanging from your lips as you tried to steady your breathing.

Aemond knelt in front of you, swiping up the spit on your chin, “Good girl. Such a good girl for me - You did so well.” You keened at his praise, leaning into his hand.

Aemond helped you to stand, pulling you over onto the bed as he stripped himself bare, watching as you still fought to catch your breath, devouring him with lust filled eyes and swollen lips.

“Let's see how wet you are from me using your mouth like that, hm?”

You parted your legs on instinct, giving him view of your glistening folds.

Aemond inhaled sharply, “Look how fucking wet you are. You're dripping all over the bed.”

You nodded your head dumbly, brain feeling light as a feather. You didn’t know if it was from the lack of previous airflow, or if it was the way he was treating you, slowly sinking you down into the comfortable little space you loved to float in with him.

“Are you all dumb, baby?” He meanly cooed at you with a sadistic pout, stroking the hair atop your head.

You nodded again as he chuckled at you, running his fingers through your slick folds, the sound of him parting them obscenely wet.

“Just from being daddy’s little fuck hole?”

You moaned, pushing your centre into his hand as he swirled a digit around your swollen clit, sparks of pleasure flying up inside of you. His finger dipped inside of you, immediately crooking upwards into the spot you needed it most.

“Look at this needy little pussy sucking me in. Do you need daddy to help you?”

You moaned at him, thrusting your hips downwards onto his hand as he added another finger, beginning to fuck them inside of you.

“Use your words.”

It took whatever remaining braincell that was left inside your head to string together one measly word, “Please.”

Aemond smirked, “Please what, little dummy.”

You whined, shutting your eyes as heat flooded your cheeks.

“Come on. Use your big girl words or you won’t get anything.”

“Please, daddy. P-please fuck me.”

Aemond smiled victoriously, kissing a tear that was drying against your cheek, “There we go. That must have been real hard when you're all dumb, wasn’t it?

You whined at his teasing, and then again when he removed his fingers.

“Shh.” He hushed you, “Daddy’s going to give you just what you need.”

And he did.

Aemond slid into you immediately, aided by how wet and open you were for him. He sighed into the crook of your neck, your legs immediately wrapping around him as he began to fuck into you, slowly building up the pace.

Your breasts bounced with each thrust, his hips snapping into your own as pleasure bloomed within. You moaned and cried beneath him, his pelvis rubbing against your swollen bud with each deep and rough thrust he gave you.

“You gonna cum already? I can feel you gripping me.” He huffed, watching his length disappear into your folds.

“Please.” You wailed, hands gripping the sheets beside you tightly in your fists as you begged him with your eyes.

Aemond took pity on you and slid a hand down to your pearl, rolling it in time with his thrusts, “Come on then. Cum on my cock.”

It took four sharp thrusts before your eyes screwed shut, stars appearing behind them as you came with an earth shattering cry. Aemond fucked you through it, hips and hand not once still until you were a sobbing and slick mess beneath him.

“Fucked the brat right out of you, didn’t I? Pretty little baby.” He moaned, rutting into your centre as the sound of your arousal surrounded you, the hair at the base of his cock soaked with your release, “Just needed me to fuck you stupid, didn’t you?”

You couldn’t form any words, mouth hanging open as little whines and pants flittered off of your tongue. It was overwhelming, and the pleasure of your first peak was yet to settle, bliss sizzling and burning within your gut in a way that continued to mount as he kept rubbing your pearl.

It was almost painful.

“Give me another.” Aemond grunted, pressing his fingers against you again harder, watching as you tried to shift your hips and escape his circling digits.

But it was no use, and Aemond ripped yet another peak from you with precision, your head lulling to the side tiredly as your body was thrust up the bed with his hips. You laid limply beneath him as he continued to fuck you, lip pulled into your mouth by your teeth as you whimpered.

“Fuck.” He gritted out through his teeth, hand releasing your clit out of mercy as he gripped your hips tightly in both hands, fucking into you harder and faster than before, beating the air from your lungs with each thrust.

“Gonna fill up this little pussy.” He moaned, watching as your brows pulled together, walls fluttering around his length.

“You want me to fill this pretty pussy with my cum? Want me to fill you up?”

You nodded your head, tear leaking from the corner of your eye as he continued to rut into you rapidly, hands leaving your hips to wrap around your throat, squeezing the sides to prevent the blood flow to your head whilst allowing for air, amplifying your pleasure and making you float even further.

“Gonna cum in your cunt.” He moaned, using the grip on your neck to pull your weight down onto his cock, spearing you open with each thrust.

It was too much.

It was-

Oh Gods-

You were-

Your brain went blank as ecstasy shot through it, scrambling any thought that you had. You heard his cry as he came deep within you, his warmth filling you up, but there was a second wetness that you noticed, that soaked the sheets below you.

It took a while to come back down to yourself, held in Aemond’s arms as he brushed gentle hands over you, holding you to him. You felt warm, safe, and completely and utterly exhausted. You shifted to look up at him, watching as his eye opened to look down at you.

“Back on earth?” He asked softly, watching as you weakly smiled at him, nuzzling into his bare chest. His chuckle vibrated against your cheek.

“Come on, we got to get you cleaned up.”

You buried your head deeper into his chest, “Don’wanna.”

Lips pressed at the top of your head, “Come on. I need to change the sheets.”

This caught your attention.

Had you gotten your period?

Were you sweatier than you had thought?

You lifted your head to look at him, to which he gave you a smug little smile.

“You made quite the mess.”

You frowned, embarrassment creeping into your chest.

“Nothing bad.” He reassured you, kissing your forehead, “You ever squirted before?”

Squirted?

“As much as I love watching your mind turn and work, I’m lying in your wet patch.” He chuckled, shifting to lift you out of the bed.

Low and behold, there it was.

A large wet patch below Aemond that spread out against your sheets, proof of your pleasure and the peaks that Aemond took you too. And despite having no shame, and being roughly and thoroughly fucked not too long ago, heat still flooded your cheeks at the sight.

After lazing in bed for only an allowed moment more, Aemond helped you to the shower, your legs weak like jelly as he washed you and brushed your hair, taking off your makeup with gentle steady hands that made your heart flutter in your chest.

Ever the gentleman, he popped you on the couch as he changed your sheets, remaking your bed before he put on the load of washing. It was entirely domestic, and watching him as he moved, as he doted. on you, as he fluttered around your space which had irrevocably also became his, it only seemed to make the little part of him that had burrowed into your chest go deeper.

You ordered in that evening, getting pizza in a strange reminder of what it had been like when he first moved in. The same pizza order, the same pizza place, the same two spots on the couch as you ate.

The two of you had come a long way since then. A very long way, and in many ways, coming to a place that you would not have thought possible or even to have thought to cross your mind.

You watched his favourite movie in comfortable silence after eating your dinner, before suddenly you remembered something. You jumped up from your spot, hissing slightly at the soreness between your thighs as you ran to retrieve two spoons from the drawer, then opening the freezer door to dig around inside.

Ah.

There it was.

The forgotten tub of ice cream you had carelessly thrown inside when a certain person was in your home.

You held it triumphantly as you walked back to the couch, holding it as you would a prized jewel on show for him. Aemond chuckled at your antics as you pulled the lid clean off, offering him a spoon.

“The first dip, My Lord.” You joked, bowing your head to him.

Aemond huffed a laugh, the pressure of him digging into the tub with his spoon pushed into your wrist.

“Ñuha Riña.”

The accent sent a pulse straight to your core.

Down girl.

You dipped your spoon in after him, lifting it to your lips, “What does that mean?”

“My Lady." Aemond hummed, returning his attention back to the tv.

You savoured the ice cream, the tub becoming half full in no time as you slowly but surely demolished it together. It felt good to be at his side, to know where you both stood. To know what you both wanted, and for it to not be a secret anymore.

But you still couldn't get your mind to stop thinking about the way his tongue had rolled when speaking High Valyrian.

“Aemond?” You turned your head to look at his profile, watching as his tongue darted out to lick at his spoon.

“Hm?”

“Will you teach me?”

His brows furrowed, “Teach you what?”

“High Valyrian.” You asked him shyly, suddenly feeling like perhaps you shouldn’t have asked him that at all. Maybe he wouldn't want to teach you that. Maybe it was a family thing only.

Was that weird of you to ask?

Would it be a reminder of the tension back at home?

A reminder of his father?

Your swirling thoughts of doubt were cut short as a soft smile spread across his shape cheeks.

“Hen rhinka.” Of course.

“What does that mean?”

“You’ll have to find out, won’t you, ñuha jorrāelagon.”

My love.

That night you slept in each others embrace, fresh and warm sheets on the bed, surrounded by his scent. It was no wonder that you drifted off to sleep so easily after the romp you had had earlier, not to mention how tumultuous the days before had been.

Yet when you woke the next morning, you felt refreshed, ready for a new start.

A new day.

A new beginning.

With him.

Aemond wasn’t in bed with you, but rather than feeling any sort of panic or anxiety about his absence, you crawled out of bed and went to where you knew he would be.

Standing tall, leant against the bench, Aemond sleepily sipped from his coffee in the kitchen as he blew the smoke from his cigarette through the open window. He was clad in only black shorts, his silver hair messy and tangled, and the press of his pillow embedded in his cheek.

Hearing your approach, he turned to you and smiled.

Your stomach did flips.

“Morning.”

The familiar sound of porcelain on the bench scraped in your ear.

There, at the base of his fingers, was your steaming mug of tea.

You took it gratefully from him with a smile before sidling up to his side, leaning your head against his chest as he wrapped one arm around your shoulders pulling you closer.

“What do you want to do today?” You looked up at him, watching as he smiled down at you.

“Anything you want.”

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space-matt · 8 months

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dad!matt or dad!chris fic

a day with daddy

dad!matt.sturniolo x fem.reader

summary: what do you want more from life when you can spend a whole day with your favorites girls?

author’s note: I really hope that you’ll like it! if you all want I can make a Chris’s version ♡

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English is not my first language, if you see grammar and typing mistakes, I apologize in advance! I just ask you not to be rude to me ♡

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revised

The long-awaited moment had finally arrived: a day with dad

Matt has decided to dedicate a day every week to spend with his two daughters, whom he considers his little princesses. When he received the news of their birth from the gynecologist, he was so ecstatic that he jumped all over the room. He immediately shared the news with his brothers, Chris and Nick, and even shed a few tears of joy.

When they were born, he was so enchanted by their presence that he didn't leave them alone for a single moment. He wanted to be with them as much as possible, which led to the idea of dedicating a day to them so that you could rest.

In the morning, he woke up early to prepare breakfast for everyone.

After finishing his morning routine, the man heads to the twin room to wake up his daughters. He sits on the bed and admires them, still in disbelief that they are his own flesh and blood. Slowly, Lola, the older twin by 20 seconds, opens her eyes and sees her father in front of her. She jumps into his arms, screaming "Daddy!" loudly enough to wake up her little sister Daisy. Daisy then wakes up and greets her father with a cheerful "Good morning, Daddy!"

He held both in his arms and gave each of them a kiss on the cheek before enter into your room. As he whispered, "Mom is still sleeping, are we going to wake her?" in a joking manner, they immediately understood with a nod and stepped out of his arms, and then screamed as they ran towards your room.

''Mummy, wake up! It's morning!!" with one click, you take them both and start tickling them, their weak point, causing the room to fill with their laughter. In the meantime, you look up and notice Matt standing on the door frame with a broad smile on his face, all thirty-two teeth showing as he looks at you. "Okay, okay, we've bothered Mom enough, now everyone has to have breakfast" he says, attracting the attention of the girls who immediately follow him like a train.

After finishing, you change into comfortable clothes and settle down on the sofa to continue watching your favorite series, which you had paused for a couple of weeks while Matt was occupied with dressing the two young ones. Suddenly, all three of them appear in front of you dressed alike, thanks to Matt's idea. You couldn't resist taking a picture to capture the adorable moment.

The morning continued after greeting you. Despite the cold, the sun sprang up, allowing you to enjoy the day as they headed towards the park.

As they walked, Matt held the hands of the little ones firmly in his own. When they reached their destination, the children spotted their cousins near the slide and ran towards them. Meanwhile, Matt approached his brother Chris.

"Did they drag you out of bed?" asked Matt with a sarcastic smile, as Chris glared at him. "Yes... I wanted to sleep a bit more, but I would do anything for them" Chris replied, turning his head towards the direction of the people who woke him up.

It was lunchtime, so they decided to walk home and then drive to McDonald's, which was the girls' favorite place. After placing their order, they enjoyed their meal at a leisurely pace, and finished it off with some ice cream.

In the meantime, you finished watching a series with an unexpected ending. Not wanting to get bored, you decided to tidy up the house, so that you could later take a nice warm bath with music in the background.

This was something you needed, as you had neglected your mental health due to all the paperwork you had to do. Thanks to these days designed by Matt, you had the opportunity to recharge your energy.

Matt and his daughters were back in the car, with their favorite songs playing at full volume. Thanks to your musical recommendations, your daughters had become obsessed with your favorite singer. Even Matt, who was initially skeptical, began to appreciate the music so much that he started humming some of the refrains and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel.

Upon arriving home, the twins eagerly ran towards you, showering you with hugs. Meanwhile, Matt collapsed onto the sofa to rest for a moment. However, a couple of hours later, he was awakened by a delightful aroma wafting from the kitchen.

"Hey babe, why didn't you wake me up? You know you don't have to do anything" Matt says with a sleepy look as he approaches you to give you a kiss. "You seemed more tired than me" you laugh, "So I let you rest a little." you continue to stir the ladle in the pan and he asks "Where are the girls?" to which you reply, "They're in their room coloring."

Matt decided to take a quick shower before dinner so that he could freshen up. Dinner ended early because the girls were excited to see the new Disney movie.

The evening ended in the best way possible - the four of you huddled together in bed with smiles on your faces.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x reader

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soapybutt17 · 5 months

Text

Do I Wanna Know?

Summary:John has blood on his hands, just as much as you did. But this was something different. He has his secret, just as much as you did in your line of work. But this was different, he has committed a war crime and the blood on his hands was something you held along your bloodied own.. Character: John Price x F!Wife!Reader. Word Count: 1,209 Chapter Warnings: Mention of Murder. Mention of Kidnapping and trauma associated with it. Mention of Survivor's guilt. Price is just a bb boi here that needs a lots of hugs and kisses. AU. Soap is alive here, but was hospitalized from the encounter.

Based on this ask:

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open || Join My Taglist || 500 Followers Celebration

John Price was a lot of things. But to this day, he would have never thought he would murder a man without an order of anyone but for his own intentions. He had blood on his hands and there were only two individuals that knew.

Laswell that had orchestrated his ability to be in the man’s office. She who had ensured that he would do his deeds and leave without anyone knowing otherwise. Laswell knew what it meant to him, how John had to fight tooth and nail with the guilt of almost losing Soap because of the mission with Makarov. It was inevitable that he had to do this, he had to kill Shepard if he wanted to ensure the safety of everyone he cares for.

Then there was you, his wife, and his most trusted partner. He could do no wrong in your eyes. How even in your hesitation for the plan he and Laswell had devised had trusted him that it would not be placed back on him when the fire begins to spread. You trusted him even when you knew it was not the right thing to do.

“Hi,” He slipped back to your shared home.

You were in your pajamas tonight, with your daughter asleep on your lap and your son cradled in your arms fighting the last ounce of strength to keep awake. He could see the tiredness in your eyes but there was a darkness in your eyes that seemed to consume you as you looked at him.

“John.”

He gave a quick nod, kissing you at the top of your head but refused to touch you just yet. He feared the metaphorical blood still in his hands needed to be washed. He refused to hold onto you or his children when it painted him still. He refused to soil the very reason why he did what he had to do.

Walking upstairs to your shared bedroom, he shed himself of his clothes, refusing to place them in the hamper as the fire place would be a better end to them. He stood bare in his own bathroom, his eyes glued onto the mirror to the sight of him. Worn and torn by the war, never hesitant to pull the trigger if it means the mission is done and over with. How it had been so easy to pull the trigger and kill Shepard. It truly scared him, what he was able to do and even if he knew it was for the greater good.

He killed a man. It wasn’t accidental, it was not in the fields nor was it due to self-defense. He murdered a man in cold blood and as the night grows on, the guilt was coming at him with full force.

How the actions—or lack thereof had become a domino effect that he was trying his best to clean up, to pick the pieces back up and move on. He should have allowed Soap to kill Makarov all those years ago. He should have never trusted someone like Graves to be involved with his team. He should have never placed you in his taskforce.

All his actions led to where he stood now. A broken man that never knew what it felt like to be this broken until he looked at the mirror. How the tears came in floods, consuming him from the inside out. He was pathetic. A captain that could not even ensure the safety of his own team.

“John.”

He turned and he did not bother to wipe away the tears as he looked at you. He was wrapped in your arms as his sobs grew louder. He was weeping for the pain and torment his actions has caused you and every single one of his team.

Soap was barely alive. You had closely escaped death from being held captive. The world was almost about to begin world war three. Everything was going to shit and he genuinely did not know what he could do to stop it all.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” You reassured stripping yourself of your clothes and pulling him into the shower.

The cold spray brought a deep shiver down his spine as it finally hit his skin. Standing in the middle of the shower, you had allowed him to wrap his arms around you as he continued to sob. All the pain of everything in his life slowly faded away as he held you in his arms.

Slowly as the tears no longer feel and he was hiccupping, you pulled away with tears in your own eyes. Your hands gently wiped the water on his face and kissed him in the cheeks and nuzzling your face against the crook of his neck.

“You did the right thing.” You assured him. “It was for the better.” You continued as you began to wash him.

Your movement was gentle—loving. You washed him with so much gentleness that he knew all too well that he didn’t deserve. He never deserved your love anymore after what he had put your through.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked him, lathering your palms with the shower gel.

“Do you want to know?” He quipped right back.

“If you want to me to know, I am more than willing to carry the weight with you, John.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He whispered holding onto your hands.

How bloodied and battered his hand was so easily cleansed by your touch. He held onto your own, intertwining them together as he pulled you in for a kiss. All the memory of the last few months momentarily faded away in your arms.

“I finally did it.” John spoke as he laid in bed with you in his arms.

All you could do was nod realizing what that had meant, what it would finally mean after all was said and done.

“Who knows what you did?” You inquired for a moment fearing the aftermath when all was said and done.

“You and Laswell. No one more.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around him. Hands rubbing against his naked skin. You felt the goose bumps litter his skin from the memory more than from your touch. You know what had caused this, knew what it was for the best.

“Johnny’s finally awake.” You whispered to him, with him finally pulling away from a moment to look at you and the tears of relief flooded him.

“That’s—that’s good to hear. How’s he holding up?”

“His head hurts and making sure Simon’s head is too while he’s looking after him.”

You hoped that even just a glimpse of good news would appease him and the guilt that weighed so heavily on his shoulders.

“I’m glad…” He trailed off, moving his body until his head nestled against the plush flesh of your chest. “I’m so glad…”

Slowly you had felt his breathing slowly calm as his grasp around you slowly loosen. You laid still from where you laid hoping that in this moment everything would finally go back for the better. For your husband’s sake and for the rest of the team that was now ghosted by everything that had anything to do with Makarov and Shepard.

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thebadboyfanclub · 2 years

Text

It Is Time (Daemon x Reader)

This is probably the softest imagine I have written and it was so much fun. I was listening to line without a hook so you get the vibe I was going for.

To be married into the Targaryen was considered a chance of a lifetime for most, however a marriage with the princess of the Summer Islands was a miracle, when (y/n)s father send the raven of her being open to wedlock Jahaerys was the first to respond, offering Daemon as a suitable husband, to align such foreign force was a must for the Targaryens, Daemon at first had retaliated, denying to part take in a loveless marriage with a woman he had never seen to just be a pawn of the king.

That quickly changed when (y/n) visited kings landing, “The diamond of the Summer islands” she was known for her bewitching nature, as she walked next to her father like she owned the place Daemon swallowed thickly at what his eyes were experiencing, it looked like she was a mystical fairy merely flowing instead of using her feet, she was a different type of beauty, a thicker frame with tanned dark skin from the place of endless summer, tall frame and curly hair, her eyes resembled that of a fox, full of mischief and secrets. The daughter of house Truefyre had brought Daemon to his knees with a single glance, once he greeted her and got a hold of her hand he felt shivers down his spine.

“It was the first time I felt like the Gods smiled down at me”

Their wedding was the talk of Westeros, (y/n) and Daemon danced the night away, whispers a of a the union growing strong took over as Daemon was seen tending to his lady wife in every way, shape and form, he was put under a spell that he never wanted to break free from.

“What is it my diamond?”

“I haven’t… bled”

“Oh…. Oh!”

Realisation hit daemon like a stone in the head, Daemon and (y/n) had been every affectionate with one another, Daemon would always have a hand touching (y/n) and there have been rumours of Daemon letting his hand slip in more inappropriate parts, how could he resist? His lady wife was the most perfect creature, his precious diamond that he held close in hopes to protect her forever.

Daemon was not a man of exaggerating declares of happiness, at the news of his wife being with his child he simply smiled and placed a kissed on her forehead before kneeling to be in the same height as her belly.

“I cannot wait to meet you little one”

(Y/n) had wished to reside to the Summer islands, away from duties and pointless dinner with backstabbing lords that would arse kiss in front of her face, her father was gracious enough to offer a castle right next to the sea shore as her wedding gift, Daemon could not deny his love such joy, he also secretly wanted to have a quiet life with his family.

As the morrows came and went (y/n) was changing by the hour, her lady nature kicked in with impeccable strength, compelling the princess to shed tears at the sight of a cat playing with her kittens, her hand was always caressing her growing belly as she sang to the babe while sitting in a swing located in a beautiful orange tree, the breeze passing through her as she rested in the shade and enjoyed the sounds of nature.

“The princess requested for deer meat with… peach jam”

Daemon found himself giving her strange requests to the cooks more than he liked to admit, it was almost a daily ritual for her to wake up in all hours of the night and beg her husband for stuff like plum juice and oysters, strawberry cake and beef meat, he would sometimes think her cravings were the reason of her sickness, although he was smarter than uttering his concern, he would simply nod and go searching for whatever she had asked for.

“I have gotten fat”

“You are with child”

“I am fat with child”

Daemon took in the scene of his wife standing as she watched herself in the mirror, she had gotten bigger as time went on but that was normal for her journey in motherhood. He had been reading a book in his bed when he puffed out a breath and stood up to approach her, (y/n) quickly went to wrap herself with her silk rob yet Daemon stopped her, on her vanity she had an open jar of cream that she would often run her belly with, it soothed her from the itching. Daemon took a small amount and gently went over the stretched skin with care.

“You are a mother, a beautiful woman that is strong enough to carry a child in her with such grace that you make it seem easy, I look at you and I see the world in those dark hues of yours”

“You are going to make me cry”

“I am going to make you happy and when the time comes and our baby is born I will be sure to let them know how infuriatingly gorgeous their mother was when you were carrying them”

“I hope it is a girl”

“I pray that it is healthy, now it is time you rest and no more talking down on your figure, the mother of my child will never be disrespected like that”

Daemon had been (y/n)s shadow, making sure she had everything her heart desires and was happy until she laid next to him with a grin, it was the only way Daemon could drift off, he wouldn’t be able to even sleep for an hour if he wasn’t certain his wife was unwell, especially now that she was risking her life for the birth of their child.

“Daemon, Daemon wake up”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“It is time”

“Oh seven hells, I’ll summon the maester”

“No, no, take me to the ocean”

“(Y/n) it is not the time to swim”

“Daemon for the love of everything that is holy, take me to the fucking ocean”

Daemon was smart enough to understand there was no room for him to protest and not to even negotiate about it, he simply took his dear wife gently in his arms as she grunted and moaned and safely let her feel the coldness of the ocean waves. (Y/n) was overcome by a sense of relief from her muscles as the water soothed the ache, washing it away with each wave, her back resting against a rock with her legs spread wide open to give the babe access.

“Now may I call the maester?”

“No, I don’t want them here”

“Why?”

“I want you to be the first one to hold it, not a bunch of people who will let me know the gender before the status of the babes health”

Daemon empathised with his love, wet nurses and maesters were known for not quite caring of anyone’s health, only to deliver the next heir of the Targaryen bloodline.

Daemon nodded mostly to himself before he kneeled so he can take a proper look and guide his wife as much as he could.

“Now I am not trained for this but I’ll do my best”

“It’s alright my sweet, I just need you to hold it when it gets here”

(Y/n) was doing a wonderful job during the entire labour, if Daemon did not know any better he would say (y/n) had gotten through labour a thousand of times, the sound of the ocean calmed her nerves and the cold water seemed to come in to use as beats of sweat appeared on her forehead, she would often ask Daemon to splash her in the face or her chest.

“Here we go my diamond, just a little more”

It had been the wee hours of the morning until the babe was released from her, relief washed over her as her legs could finally spread flat and rest. Daemon caught the babe that was greeted by the ocean first before it was finally secure in their fathers arms, the beautiful little star cried while Daemon cut the cord with his dagger.

“Is the babe alright?”

“The dragon is as strong as her mother”

“Her? A girl?”

“Indeed”

“Give her to me”

Daemon silently complied, passing the fragile little girl in her mothers arms. (Y/n) had never felt more accomplished before, she delivered her daughter right as she wished, with her husband and with the strength of the ocean.

In her land the sea goddess was also the goddess of fertility, frequently plenty of couples would bring their babes to the shore and let the water caress the babes skin as a thank you to the goddess for allowing them to expand their families, to be able to give birth right in the goddesses home was a dream for a plethora of women.

“How about Ariel?”

“An unusual name for a Targaryen, what will your dear family say?”

“I couldn’t give two shits about them, you and our precious Ariel are the beginning and the end for me”

“you have become such a poet my prince”

“How could I not? dear (y/n) you have turned my life to a living fairytale”

“Help me up please”

Daemon allowed his wife to carry the small child while he carried her, the maester along with the servants were waiting for the couples arrival back to the castle, they were aware of how sacred this moment had been for them and watched from the sidelines, praying that everything would go smoothly.

“Behold (y/n) of House Truefyre and our first born, Ariel Targaryen”

(Y/n) only giggled as Daemon puffed out his chest with pride and carried her to their chamber while all the servants beamed with joy.

“I believe we should take the babe for a bath”

“No maester Gerald I will do it”

“As you wish princess”

“My love, you should rest”

“I would rather be Caraxes next meal than allow someone else experience her first milestones instead of us”

Daemon only leaned to peck his wives lips with the utmost adoration, his diamond was meant to become a mother and he felt a certain sense of honour that she chose him to share her future with.

The servants prepared the bath for little Ariel while (y/n) and Daemon kneeled, the babes first sensation was the ocean so Ariel was peaceful as the warm water was gently washing away the salt of the waves.

“She will be a strong dragon rider, like you”

“Or a graceful princess of the summer islands, like you”

(Y/n) leaned closer to her husband as a way to express her emotions to him. It was Daemons turn to smile at her, (y/n) was everything Daemon never thought he deserved in life, sometimes he would think what would his life be if he had not married her, and the result was just grim and cold.

“We should call the wet nurses my sweet, Ariel will need to feed in a while”

“Wet nurses? Daemon this is not kings landing, we feed our babes here”

He would never imagine he could love his wife more, that is until he was part of the moment (y/n) fed Ariel, such a sacred ritual and bond with mother and daughter. (Y/n) laid comfortably in their bed after she had a scorching hot bath with her favourite scented soap which was lily flowers, Daemon had even braided her wet hair so it will be out of her face and make her feel pretty.

(Y/n) hummed a tune to their little princess, light beaming through the windows on this glorious day and their babe healthy and already loved tremendously suckling on its mothers breast, (y/n) could almost feel the women of her bloodline gather around them and bless the babe with their hands on her shoulders, resilient women who suffered through months of pain, swelling, restless nights, broke their hips for the birth, even produced milk for their children to feed, Daemon had been a warrior who had taken plenty of life’s, his wife was a warrior who created a life.

“It is time for you to rest”

“No, I don’t want to take my eyes off of her, I want to watch her breathe”

“Alright, I’ll sit right by you with Ariel as you sleep, I will watch her for you. Do you trust me with that?”

“I suppose”

Daemon did as such, sitting up in their bed holding the princess while (y/n) got comfortable with her pillow, her eyelids were already heavy but she still fought, Daemon rocking the babe without even realising how bright he was smiling at his daughter was such a gorgeous sight to miss, they were not just husband and wife now, nor prince and princess of anything, they were mother and father, parents that would offer their life for their daughter, a bond made by passion and kept by devotion and love.

She drifted off to sleep with the sound of her daughter cooing at her father, praying that her body won’t be in need of countless hours of sleep, since she looked forward to waking up and be fully capable of holding her daughter again.

Requests are open

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