aegontaargaryens

[aegontaargaryens]

people don’t realize how bad it’s acc gonna be that hotd is still filming amid the writers strike… it means no rewrites during filming, basically no show-runner, improvised lines/acts will be discouraged bc they won’t be able to rewrite responses/encourage improvised lines - season 2 is NOT going to be good

[aegontaargaryens]

what lives in the dark.

In the middle of the Godswood of Winterfell lives a creature that appears at midnight with the full moon, but you and your boyfriend were too stubborn to believe it.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Werewolf!Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader.

TAGS/TW – smut (breeding/creampie, p in v, cunninglus, size kink, squirting, and praise), dubcon/noncon, infidelity(?, hunter/pray dynamics, lowborn!reader, feral!cregan. if something is missing pls let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE – so, this story contains a bit of omegaverse dynamics bc Cregan is a werewolf, but only basic aspects like the rut and knotting. It took me a while to write this actually, but i hope you all enjoy it!! also, thanks to my beautiful wifey @targbarbie for being my beta reader, love you to the moon and to saturn🤍

WORD COUNT – 4.792

GENERAL TAG LIST – @borikenlove @melsunshine @clairacassidy @satansdarlin @aelora-a @cullenswife @ilikeitbetterangsty @jvpit3rs

FEEDBACK , SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!

"I'm starting to regret this."

Your voice came out as a whisper, almost being silenced by the sounds of the nightlife of the Godswood. The darkness surrounding you was scary enough to spook away to the bravest of men, and yet your lover decided that it was worth the try. You were barely able to see the stars in the sky, for the trees did not allow you to have a clear view. The moonlight was dim, the only thing that helped you to see was the candles on your hands.

"Just a few more rounds and we'll get back home," your lover promised, holding your hand and guiding you deeper into the woods.

A quick look at him was all you needed to start to feel unsure, not safe. He was not tall, one or two inches taller than you, his body was slim and skinny, and he certainly was not the greatest of fighters. He was the son of a stableman, the closest thing to battle he had experienced was when a horse almost kicked his gut. And yet, he believed to be brave and strong enough to submerge into the darkness of the woods.

Even when the whispers say that every full moon, a howling creature appears. The northerns usually hide in the safety of their homes when this time of the month arrives, but there you were, following your lover into the craziest thing you have done in your life. Oh, how stupid you were.

"My love, I don't think this is a good idea," you insisted, already being paranoid with the whistling sound of the wind, "this is not safe, please, let's just go home."

He didn't listen, so you froze in your place. Once he realized you were not moving, he turned around and pressed his lips with disapproval, almost looking mad at you for stopping his adventure, but you were not going to bend, you wanted to go back. Your instinct was yelling for you to turn around and run.

"I want to go home," you said sternly, firmly expressing your annoyance and slight fear.

"Love-"

"No," you interrupted him, "it's enough. This is stupidly dangerous, I don't want to do this anymore, I want to-"

His lips pressed against yours, silencing you as he pushed you against a tree. His hands went to your rear, cupping your arse and stealing a small gasp from your mouth. You squirmed under his touch, accidentally brushing your thigh against him and causing a moan to slip out of his lips.

Almost immediately, you pushed him away.

"Stop this!" you grunted, "what are you doing?"

"Trying to calm you down, that's what I'm doing," he said with a smirk, and you could not help but to roll your eyes as he came closer to your lips once again.

"I want to go home," you demanded.

"I want to make you mine," he muttered, going to attack your lips once again.

His hands cupped your face in order to retain your position between his body and the tree behind you. You moved your face, and with a single push you managed to get him away from you. He groaned, angry and upset, but you decided to ignore his furrowed expression as you turned around and started to walk away.

"Wait!" you heard him yelling, but you didn't stop, "My love, please, wait!"

"I'm going home with or without you," you answered, keeping your pace steady and firm.

"You can get lost, the Godswood is too big!"

"I'll find the way out," you assured him.

You didn't turn around, but you knew he was walking right behind you because you were able to hear the leaves cracking under his shoes. Your breath became unsteady as you started to get slightly tired of walking, and you couldn't find the weirwood tree that would make you know you were going in the right direction.

Trying to look at the sky to see if the star could help you with your orientation, you realize that the crown of the abundant trees were covering almost the whole sky, leaving you with nothing that showed you where you were going. You cursed yourself on the low, losing your pride and turning around to finally face your lover and ask him to guide you through the forest.

But he wasn't there. No one was, actually. As soon as you turned around, you were able to hear a movement in the trees and bushes, and the only thing in front of you was darkness. The candle in your hand was soon to be extinct, for the wax was already fully melting in the cup. You started to feel genuine and pure fear, you were alone, in the woods during the full moon. Nothing good will come out of this, of that you were certain.

The sudden movement of the trees put you on alert. You swallowed hard as your body tensed, stiff as a rock. You tried to remain quiet, thinking that perhaps if the thing that was out there did not hear you then you would be safe. Your shaky breath became a bit too loud for your liking as you slowly started to move backwards, resisting the imminent urge to run away.

And then you saw it, two yellowish spheres that were seen hiding behind a tree not so far from you. Your lower lip trembled, and when you heard it grunting, you knew you should run.

The candle, the only thing that provided you with light, fell from your hand and was turned off by the traces of snow in the ground. You were staring at it, and it was staring right back at you. You could recognize a tall and big shape, almost too big to be human… no man you have known was that tall, and that's how you knew you were in the presence of the frightening beast the northern tales tell you about.

You saw it move, and before it could come out from its hiding spot, you found yourself running away, completely blinded by the darkness surrounding you, and the panic and adrenaline of the moment. Your hands were grasping your skirts, lifting them up so it was easier for you to move between bushes and branches.

It was almost impossible for you to know whether you were going for the right path or not. The adrenaline of the moment led you where your instinct would take you, and with a bit of luck, you managed to arrive at the center of the Godswood, where the Weirwood Tree was standing. Its fallen red leaves were decorating the white snow, and you finally were able to see beyond your own hands.

You looked up, and the stars were shining bright, the moon giving you the light you needed to realize where you were standing. You fell to your knees in front of the carved face, and you started to pray for your safety, cursing the name of your lover who had no remorse in leaving you to go by yourself.

You noticed you were crying once you touched your face and felt your soaked cheeks. Whines and cries were heard in the quietness of the night, your body shaking with fear as you were looking at your surroundings like a paranoid.

The sound of a branch being stepped on was heard, and your eyes quickly saw the tall frame of a man. You felt relief, a weight taken off your shoulders as you stood up and sighed. He walked slowly, getting closer to you, and once he was close enough you were able to identify him as Lord Stark.

A tall, handsome man that you had the chance to meet a few times around Winterfell; now you were seeing him as your salvation from the terror that was starting to consume you.

Of course the panic in your mind did not allow you to notice his bright yellow eyes.

"Lord Stark," you breathlessly said, standing up to face him. His tall frame in front of you, your eyes looking up at his face. "What a relief…"

He remained silent, your eyes kept wandering around going from his face to your surroundings just to make sure the thing didn't follow you to that place. Once he reached your side, you felt some sense of calmness and peace.

"We need to go back, I intended to go back but I got lost in my way and I couldn't- this is not safe, we must go now!"

You saw his shoulders move as he took a deep breath and his intense haze was on you, examining your body from head to toe. Suddenly, your demeanor changed, and the feeling of safety was no longer there. Your body tensed, staring at his eyes only to notice the color of them, and how big his pupils were.

Then, you knew you were fucked.

In a pathetic attempt to run away, you tried to turn around, but big hands wrapped your waist and placed you against the tree. His body pressed against you, and you sensed his scent; he smelled of wet dirt and sweat, but there were still traces of his cologne in his skin; a sign that there was still a man behind those predatory eyes.

"My Lord-"

"Your smell…" he interrupts your whines, tears falling down your cheeks once again. His voice came out as low and raspy, almost in an animalistic tone that made you freeze with fear, "I could smell you from miles away, sweet doe." His nose buried in the crook of your neck, you whimpered, closing your eyes, "so inviting, so tempting… so arousing."

His tongue traveled in your soft skin, leaving a trace of saliva on you, causing chills down your spine. Your lower lip shook as you took a deep breath. Soon you were able to feel his teeth brushing against your neck, biting gently without the intention of leaving marks behind; he just wanted to taste your sweetness. But, of course, that was not enough for him.

"I wonder how you taste," he purred, his fingers collected some of the tears that had fallen down your warm face before he licked them out of his digits. A groan escaped from his lips, his eyes were closed, that tiny, little taste from you sent him over the edge. "I bet you are so sweet… your scent tells me you are."

"P-please…" You pointlessly begged him, feeling his hands going down to reach your skirts and starting to lift it up. You could've ran away, but you were frozen in that position; back against the holy tree, and your chest pressed against his.

"How dare you ask me to stop?" He scoffed, "you've been spreading the smell of your arousal around the woods, and you expect me to control myself and let you go?" He clicked his tongue, his fingers slipping between your legs until he reached your warmth. He hummed, delighted to feel some of your slick covering his thick, big fingers. "I usually hold myself back, but you have made it impossible… I'm acting as if I'm going through my rut, but in reality it's all you." He spoke, grunting as he leaned impossibly closer and his finger played with your sensitive bud. "You wanted this, did you not? You came here because you knew I was going to be here-"

"No… no, I didn't know, please!" You cried out, whimpering in the low as he rubbed his raspy fingertips against you, "I- I didn't-"

"Sh, sh…" he silenced you, his free hand wrapping around your neck as he pulled back and led you to the ground. He forced you to kneel, squeezing your throat in a subtle but demanding way, and you were too scared to even dare to go against his wishes. "You are a terrible liar, my sweet doe."

Somehow you ended up laying in the ground, your body on top of a bed of fallen leaves covered by the traces that the snow had left in them. Your back soon was wet because of the melting snow, and a cold shiver ran down your spine. Cregan forced you to spread your legs, positioning himself between them as he towered your body with his. He leaned closer and harshly bit your lip; the gesture was so careless that it made you cry out loud. However, there was no point in screaming, you were too far to be heard by someone from the town. Your only option was to close your eyes, pray and cry in silence until everything was over.

His big hands grabbed the back of your knees and forced them against your chest. The cold breeze smacked against your bare cunt and you whined due the sensation. Inevitably, you clenched your walls and he was able to perceive it, his bright, yellow eyes sparkled with the sight as he sighed. A smug smirk appeared on face, giving him a wicked look on his devilish features; such a view made you feel fear once again, but also made you sense some familiar feeling in your gut.

"Oh, fuck-" he said, shifting his position until his face was right in front lf your cunt. "Look at this… so fucking pretty."

He moved his hands, one of them was big –and strong– enough to hold your legs up. His free hand went to your folds, spreading them without shame as he took a closer look. He managed to see your little clit, already getting swollen for the stimulation he was providing you, and your hole… so eager and desperate to be filled up by him. He leaned even closer, his nose almost brushing against your pearl. He took a deep breath.

"Gods be good," he moaned. His mouth dropped open as he panted, his heavy breathing smacking against your wetness. Your hips twitched and you hiccuped, not even sure of what you were feeling at that moment, "just let me have a taste of you before I knot you."

Before you realized, his both hands were on your arse, his thumbs spreading your lips as his thick, warm and raspy tongue lapped onto your soaking cunt. Your eyes rolled to the back of your hand almost immediately as you tried to move away from him, but his hands were too strong and you could barely shake under his frame.

He had absolutely no shame in devouring you. His saliva dripping from his tongue and slipping down your arse as he moaned and whined against your sensitive skin. You tasted so fucking good, better than any other sweet or desert he had ever eaten before. Your soft whimpers and cries were edging him to the point where his mind felt numb with pleasure and lust. He could not help but feel the pleasuring pain growing inside his pants to such an extent that he started to cry out of the ache.

Your hands were on his hair, doing actions that did not have a clear intention; you were pulling it to keep him away from you, but at the same time, your hips could not stop following his hungry mouth. It is as if your body was asking for something you cannot quite comprehend, your lover has never pleasured in this way before… Cregan was the first person who dared to kiss such a private part of your body. It felt different, and it felt so fucking good.

Soon, your legs were wrapped around his head as he pulled your hips up. His mouth sucking on your clit and slurping your juices, your moans becoming as loud as screams. Your mind confused with the overwhelming sensation your body was experiencing, completely numb as a response for the unbeknownst feeling growing inside your belly.

Stammering, mumbling and cries were the only thing that left your mouth, for you were unable to put words together to form coherent sentences that express whatever you were feeling at the moment. It was completely new, you were feeling fire running through your veins that intensified with each movement of his skilful tongue against your folds. You felt your skin burning, sweat covering your shape as you kept struggling to move; your chest moving fastly, your nails digging in his skull, and your hips humping his face.

You melted under his arms as a sudden feeling washed you over with such an intensity that your vision became blurry. Black spots appeared in your eyes as you gasped loudly, you felt a certain relief followed by wet sounds that made Cregan whine even louder than you. His tongue collected all of your cum, seizing the sweet taste of your release as you were too numb to even realize what had just happened.

"Your cunt is so fucking wet right now," he growled. His tone made you wake up from the cloud of ecstasy you were in. It was lower, barely human. An animalistic demeanor was seen on his predatory eyes as he examined your shaky body under him. Your juices and the traces of his saliva made his chin glistened under the moonlight, such an obscene view to witness, so sinful, so shameful. "You pretend you don't like this but look at you, you came so fucking hard on my mouth, sweet doe… I want to drink from this cunt forever."

He let go of you just so his hands would reach his pants. You held your weight over your shoulders and while you looked at him struggling to get rid of the bothering fabric, you saw the perfect opportunity to attempt an escape. A stupid action, that's certain.

Your shaky legs were not much helpful as you turned to crawl away from him. Your knees being scratched by the branches on the floor as you cried your way out of that place. A big hand was wrapped around your ankle and dragged you backwards until you felt his hardened cock hitting your arse cheeks. His hands fell at each side of your hips and you cried at the impact as your arms failed to keep your body up.

Soon he grabbed a fist of your hair and pulled you back until his mouth was beside your ear. You felt his length between your folds, and he slowly started to rub against you, your poor, abused clit throbbed due to this action and a moan left your lips. You were able to perceive his anger in his heavy breathing as he tightened his grip in your hair, your head falling backwards until it was against his shoulder.

"Don't you dare to do that again," he whispered in your ear, his voice growling, so raspy that it did not even feel human anymore. "Don't make me hurt you, sweet doe."

You felt your nose itching as the tears started to escape from your eyes, though you were confused about the reason behind them. Pleasure, pain, fear. All emotions that overwhelmed your senses and confused your mind as Cregan's hands touched your body without shame at all. Such a devilish act had you wondering what you have done to deserve it, or if your lover will ever forgive you for this adulterous sin.

"I'm going to make you mine," he said, "I'm going to fill you with my cum and make you my mate and you will take it."

"P-please, no…" you mumbled, sobbing already as he kept fucking your thighs. "J-just let me- let me go, please."

"Why would I do that?" He asked, his words being followed by a moan, "I've tasted you already, my sweet thing… How am I supposed to let you go after I've become addicted to the way you taste? To the way your sweet cries beg me to keep going. Oh, my doe, you're asking me something completely impossible."

"I won't tell anyone, please… please, m-my lord-"

A loud chuckle was heard, echoing in the open space and causing you shivers down your spine. You soon felt his fat, thick head brushing against your drenching entrance and he slowly started to push inside of your tight walls. Your eyes widened as his thick cock spreaded your insides in such a painful way that made your mouth drop open for the intrusion.

"S-stop!" You yelped, trying to move your hips away, but his hips were impossibly strong, "It hurts! Please, stop!"

"Sh, sh… it's okay," he cooed, his voice shaking and unsteady, "just take it, doe, feel my cock spreading you open… Your cunt is so fucking tight."

"S-so big… Gods!" You cried out. "Please!"

"It's okay," he repeated, using the same tone as before. Hisses leaving his lips as he sinks deeper into you, "you need to get used to me, sweetling. I plan to fuck this little pussy every day from now on."

Your eyes clenched shut as he pushed harder until you were able to feel his heavy sack against your skin. Cregan pushed your head down until your cheek was pressed against the dried leaves in the ground. Your arse up in the air gave him the perfect view of your tight hole greedily receiving his cock. You would say it hurted you, but your cunt was taking him so well, eager for more.

He started to move, slowly at first, he wanted to make sure you were able to feel every inch of his pulsing cock, every vein in it. Your walls would squeeze him tightly, clenching around him everytime he would bury himself inside you. Your mouth remained open, and your eyes remained closed. He was filling you up so well.

The sound of your wetness was heard even when your moans were getting louder. It was such an obscene view, the way he would slowly pound against you just so he can watch how your creamy cunt left his length soaking with your juices. His eyes were fixated on that part of your body, bewitched by the scene, completely lost in the feeling and the rush of lust running through his veins. His big hands spreaded your arse cheeks just so he can have a better view; his animalistic side took over him as soon as he saw your tight hole greedily clenching, as if it was begging to be filled too.

His nails dug into the skin of your hips, and soon his thrust became harder. He kept the same velocity as before, just that now he made them deeper and stronger. You started to get used to the way he would move, the fact that he started slow made you adjust to his size and actually find some pleasure in his thrust. Your hands gripped the dirt under your body as you were desperately looking for something to hold on to. His pounding getting wilder with each passing second, as if he was growing desperate to feel you again as soon as he could.

You found yourself enjoying it, and feeling guilty about it… your lover was somewhere around the woods, wandering around the acres trying to discover something new. But then something happened, the mere thought of him finding you like this, with Cregan's cock buried in the deepest spot of your cunt, make you drool and clench around the man that was restlessly fucking you. Cregan hummed as your walls tightened around him, and that would only make him go faster.

"You finally are starting to enjoy this, aren't you, my doe?" he teased, squeezing the soft skin of your arse before slapping it, "I'm gonna make you my sweet little mate, darling, I'm never going to get tired of fucking this tiny little hole of yours."

"Mhm… I- I…" you intended to say something, but nothing would come out, he fucked you dumb.

"I'm going to breed you, sweet thing, I'll- fuck," he interrupted his words with a loud groan as he looked down, "I'll make sure to fill you up with my seed every fucking night until you're swollen with my pups."

The way he spoke to you, so shamelessly and unhinged, made you get even more aroused. The thought of being used by him once again stopped making you feel scared, and started to make you feel excited. Your mind sent you images of how good it would feel to have his load dripping from your cunt. But you were not supposed to be enjoying this, you were supposed to be scared, screaming out of fear, not pleasure. This was so wrong.

But it felt so fucking good.

"I will knot you, I will claim you as mine forever," he panted, fastening his pace to an animalistic speed. "I will claim this delicious cunt of yours every fucking night only to make you remember to whom you belong to."

"Yes…" you softly said, barely audible. But Cregan was able to hear it, and that only made him go harder, faster, deeper.

"Yes?" He chuckled, a moan escaping his lips soon after, "Say it."

You drooled under his touch, moaning uncontrollably loud as he kept moving without stopping any second. The sound of your bodies slapping against each other grew louder, both of you were consumed by the desire and lust that you did not care for anything anymore. Your mind went foggy again, and the same feeling was installed in your gut as you desperately tried to move your hips against his.

"Say it!" he repeated, thrusting harder. His sack smacking against your clit, adding more stimulation that made your legs shake.

"Please…" you managed to say, a thin, weak voice that was barely heard. "Oh! Gods, yes!"

"Look how desperate you are for my knot now, my sweet doe," he mockingly laughed, breathing heavily and grunting, "I knew you wanted this as much as I did."

"F-fill me…" you cried out, your cheek bruised with the movement against the rough dirt under you, "oh, yes! yes, please!"

"You're mine now, remember that, little one."

Those were his last words before he started to moan and groan as loud as you. His sweet and obscene sounds were making you wetter, your slick falling to the ground as you felt the head of his thick cock kissing your insides each time he would bury himself in you. He managed to find that sweet spot inside of you, and once his moans turned higher, you felt him stretching you even more.

You froze as you felt him spreading you so much that you thought it would rip you apart. The delicious mixture between the pain and pleasure made you come undone almost immediately; your cum gushing out of your cunt as your vision became blurry and your whole body shook. You soaked him completely, even staining your dress in the process. The pleasure was overwhelming, like flames wrapping your body and making it burn.

It became worse, because Cregan was too focused on searching for his own release that he did not realize how overstimulated you were. You bit your lip so hard that drops of blood fell down on it, Cregan's length going in and out of your abused cunt as rolled his eyes and gasped loudly.

Suddenly, you felt the warmth of his cum painting your walls as you mewled under him. Your hips were still twitching, your legs shaking, and your face soaked with tears of genuine pleasure. Cregan thrust a few times before his knot swelled so much that he was not able to move anymore. Your lower belly had a bump now, as strings of his release filled your insides. You felt so good.

"Take it all," he grunted, "you're mine now, you belong to me…"

He leaned over, leaving soft and careful kisses on your clothed back as his hands roamed around your trembling body. Your dress was still covering those parts of your body, but you were still able to feel how hot his skin was. He was burning, and you were melting in his arms. He started to whisper soft words, but some of them were almost impossible to understand. His soft touch was a big contrast to his prior actions, but you were not complaining.

"So good," he praised you, "so fucking good. You took me so well, such a good little girl you are."

"M-my lord…" you tiredly said, your eyes closing by themselves as a sudden tiredness washed over your body.

"Sh, don't say anything…" he cooed to you, "just go to sleep, my sweet doe, I'll keep you safe forever."

And for some reason, you believed him. The last thing you felt before passing out, was Cregan pulling out, and his seed quickly falling down from you.

Inevitably, and drunk by pleasure, you smiled.

[aegontaargaryens]

𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 (𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝗺) 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗲

𝗔𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗱 𝗧𝗮𝗿𝗴𝗮𝗿𝘆𝗲𝗻 𝘅 𝗪𝗶𝗳𝗲! 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗚𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁

(the title is a lyric from 'me and my husband' by mitski)

(A/N): hello there, lovelies!

I swear this is the last fic for a bit of time, but I just was eager to write both this concept and the tom one, so I had to get to it, while pretending I can be on holiday while I have to do a whole lot.

this is because we were discussing about aemond fucking with the light off, only.

as always, pls consider leaving me a comment or a reblog, if you enjoyed this, aside from the usual red hearts!

also this is a bit inspired by the myth of psyche and amore, because I am a nerd.

have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: your marriage to prince aemond was meant to be happy, but it isn't and what is worst is your inability to procreate, but everything change as you wake up with somebody in-between your legs.

You startled, although there was a hazy sensation in you as the windows had been closed all around your room and darkness engulfed you fully, both making you anxious of the setting around you but also slurring your movements till one hand found a hand of hair and then proceeded down a face. 

It was only when you felt the eyepatch in your hand that you felt reassured although you didn’t understand why your husband would be kneeling between your legs.

And why was your dress halfway raised.

WARNINGS: 18+ minors don't interact, dark themes, dub-con (reader is tricked into believing it's aemond), non-consensual somnophilia, oral sex (female receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up), slight breeding kink, titty sucking, very fucked up dynamics, the queer customs of the targ, unhappy marriage, infidelity, slight angst, afab character - she/her pronouns, mention of erectile disfunction, slight incest, dead dove do not eat.

Your marriage to Aemond Targaryen had proved itself to be a huge fiasco, in the three months of lawful union that you had been enduring with shame at your barren womb and awkward encounters.

You had hold up much hope for a possible sweet future, as you thought the prince to be handsome and educated, traits that didn’t come often in husbands.

Even more in arranged marriages.

Still, all your expectations had been disrupted by your first wedding night, when you had been laid out in bed, legs lightly spread awaiting to be bred as it was proper.

But it appeared that the prince hadn’t been able to raise at occasion, as you had lowered your head to find his …member painfully soft. It regarded you with almost disdain and not soon after, Aemond had fled your matrimonial chambers, leaving you cold and alone.

Humiliated by such an act, you had sought out your mother, who had been tender with you but also extremely strict on the fact that somehow you had displeased the prince, igniting a series of varied attempt to seduce him, which involved things as uncomfortable as dripping honey between your legs to better up the smell and taste. 

Or one time your mother had pushed you into a dress with a corset that had you passing out halfway through the dinner, as it was supposed to push forward your breasts.

Nothing got the prince to look at you and now three months in your marriage, the absence of any news about your conjugal visits made everybody around you especially nosy, as they wished to lay suggestion after suggestion in yours and Aemond’s ear, while neither of you wished such a thing.

Still, men looked at the prince with pity, while you were regarded with disdain and suspect and that specific night, you had grown humiliated enough that as the prince withdrew his weight from you after having tried to clumsily enter you, you had turned so abruptly that surprise shone on his single eye, while the missing one was covered by the ever-present eyepatch.

You had readied yourself to be patient and sweet with him, as you knew that ladies at court thought him a monster and such a belief must have hit his own ears. 

Still, it didn’t give him a right to further humiliate you with half-assed attempts at your conjugal life, avoiding you aside the night when he sought you out for another failure.

“I have had enough”.

He backed away from you, although your tone was far frailer than you had thought while you rehearsed such a speech in your mind.

“… I have been humiliated enough, and I won’t stand for any further humiliation!”.

“It wasn’t my intention, my lady” he blubbered up with his eyes downcast, while you pushed down your nightgown to cover the little part of body he had exposed for the act “… I shall take my leave and not both…”.

“It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?”.

You didn’t mean to be bitter and thinking back onto it, you’d have chastised yourself for having spoken so freely with the prince,

“… when it doesn’t work out for you, you simply run off. You aren’t the one who must deal with the consequences of your failures”.

You expected be struck, although the prince hadn’t ever touched you – not even in a gentle way as a hand on your waist or a kiss to your cheek – but it seemed that you had been the one hitting him as his face scrunched up in a strange mix of surprise and hurt.

Then he ducked his head and turned around, as you were all too used, although only when you washed the sweat of his mixed with your own, you realized what you had said to none other than a prince of the realm.

You’d be lucky if you were to be divorced the following day, and you could see already your head on a spike for having dared to mention the prince’s shortcomings, although they were true. 

You had barely slept the following day and anxiously sent your maids to see where the prince was, having them invite him in your chambers as you thought that an apology might make up for it.

Still, you were informed that the prince had left King’s Landing and you felt sick at the thought of further waiting for your execution believing such a suspense part of your own punishment and although you were too anxious to even think of sleeping, you passed out quickly after lunch and woke up to the feeling of somebody between your thighs.

You startled, although there was a hazy sensation in you as the windows had been closed all around your room and darkness engulfed you fully, both making you anxious of the setting around you but also slurring your movements till one hand found a hand of hair and then proceeded down a face. 

It was only when you felt the eyepatch in your hand that you felt reassured although you didn’t understand why your husband would be kneeling between your legs.

And why was your dress halfway raised.

Certainly, whenever you tried to consummate your wedding, he’d raise your clothes but swiftly and what little he needed to penetrate you. 

No, this time it was leisurely as his hands further bunched up your gown over your legs; they were fat fingers, and you felt the coldness of the ring at the pinky, making you shiver as you asked explanation for what was happening.

Did he wish to spank you as an unruly child? 

Or he’d have finally taken what was rightfully his?

You didn’t know and wouldn’t have known as you were shushed by a low hum, once you tried speaking, and all too soon your small clothes were ripped from you with a ferocity that made you choke up and call out his name, while your hands steadied in thick hair and pulled lightly.

You didn’t understand what was happening till you found an angry mouth to your mound and all too soon slurping noises could be heard while the anonymity of the darkness confused you about where you were and where you ended. 

Where your body fused with the man licking you between your legs, an act that you hadn’t ever thought Aemond would do, although you had caught whisper of it.

Many men did it to their wives to have them relax further for the penetration and you thought that it might be the reason why he was doing it: you had somehow spurred him on with your cutting words and tight edges of the previous days, as you breathed in relief at the chance of not being punished. 

But being rewarded.

As much as the prince might be licking you to open you up, there was a clear desperation in the way he ate your mound, as it couldn’t be described in any other way: kitten licks touched a point inside of you that got you to roll your lips to chase further friction as he brought his mouth away and you could feel the smirk of his lips whenever he went to suck your fold in his mouth. 

One at the time, releasing them with a solid ‘pop’.

He dug his own tongue across the tight ring of muscles that got you to moan loudly while a hand came to your mouth to cover it, as such sounds – or so you had been told by a lady at court – made you seem like a loose woman and no man enjoyed such a thing. 

Still, your hand was ripped away with such anger from your mouth and you were left in shock as a grunt made it clear you weren’t to shield yourself.

As if this wasn’t enough, fingers dug deep inside of you and you moaned louder.

When your husband breeched inside of you, it didn’t hurt as they said: it was uncomfortable and a tight fit, as prince Aemond seemed endowed in body as well as in attributes.

He filled you fully to the point that you thought of feeling him in the back of your throat as he bullied that specific point inside of you and his hand caressed your naked pearl, which he had exposed with his other hand.

By the end of the action, you were drenched.

At least five peaks had been ripped out of you, with an interval of around fifteen minutes, in which your beloved would come to your chest and after having pawed at it desperately, he had gotten your breasts out of their encasement and exposed to his lips.

It seemed almost a dirty action, but it brought you comfort as you hazily embraced him in the darkness that surrounded you and during which you fell asleep, waking up the morning after with a soreness between your legs – although the sticky mix of your fluids had been thoroughly cleared while you slept – but there was a lull in your step as you sought out your husband.

This time you sat closer at breakfast, and he looked almost welcoming, putting his book down to join you swiftly in conversation as he asked you how you had slept, and you felt yourself flustered in admitting to him that ‘you hadn’t ever slept better’.

In the following three months, what had seemed like a marriage on the verge of a failure turned into a success, as not only your relationship with your husband warmed up considerably but also – somehow – you were getting bred on the regular as he came as often as he could in your apartment, whenever you’d be halfway through asleep, with the curtains closed and no light coming in the room.

One time you had tried to reach out for a candle as one of your earrings - during your vigorous love-making - had fallen down under the bed and you had wished to look for it, but Aemond had stopped you, his teeth biting down your shoulders, as he had pushed himself into you with one swift thrust, as you had been by now molded for him.

Since then, you had understood that the darkness was a necessary condition for your coupling, as you could only guess that the prince had somehow some complex about his appearance. You didn’t wish to irk him, not when the solution to your problems had been found and after your third month of your predicament you missed your moonblood, announcing your pregnancy.

You and Aemond were as in love as you could be – a bit clumsy and silly with such a new feeling – but you enjoyed the walks with him and when he’d be reading to your unborn child although you barely showed any trace of your pregnancy. 

Only one time he had had a weird behavior when talking about your child: you had been talking about baby names and you had both grown to the conclusion that it’d be better to wait for them to be born.

Obviously, you had then asked your husband whether he’d have preferred a daughter or a son, as you knew that sons would have been preferable to strengthen his bloodline, but somehow the thought of a daughter didn’t displease neither you nor him, as he spoke:

‘A little girl with her mother’s traits’ he had informed you, his hand gently threading itself in your hair and softly gripping it without hurting you, as if he wished to examine the color and texture ‘… no other thing would make me happier’.

‘Then I shall wish for a son with his father’s appearance and personality’ and already Aemond had tensed up underneath you, but you hadn’t been attentive at his body-language ‘… brave and kind, smart and moderate’.

Aemond had then changed the subject swiftly enough to be abrupt and you had thought simply that he didn’t enjoy the discussion of a son, or he was simply modest in his vanity, refusing to accept your compliments. 

Either way you hadn’t questioned his behavior and neither the need for secrecy or the fact that when he took you and pushed himself onto you, he seemed bigger and shorter than what he looked in the light.

Still, the darkness made you hazy and measures were the last thing you thought when beneath Aemond.

Or so, you thought till the day that with a few ladies of the court, you found yourself breeching onto rather spicy discussions as they highlighted your growing belly a proof of your husband’s prowess and they wished to know how the prince in bed was, in the typical gossip manner of women.

You had refused to disclose any intimate detail, but with encouragement you had told them the romantic aspects of it, embellishing the vulgar and crass aspect of it that got you gushing, but only when you had revealed that your husband always fucked you with the candles blown, a few gazes had started to be shared.

‘Don’t you think it’s strange, my princess?’ a young lady had commented, while the others nodded and a sensation of uneasiness had hit you as if you had said something that you shouldn’t have ‘I may be… silly, but I’d wish to see the eyes of the man who… well… who is loving me’.

‘There’s no loving in what happens between a husband and a wife’ and older lady chastised her with a light smirk, as she turned to you again ‘… but it is indeed strange, my princess…’.

‘I just… I just think that the prince doesn’t feel… comfortable with his appearance’ you tried to explain, thinking yourself somehow disgusting for divulging so easily your husband’s secrets so out in the open ‘… I don’t … well…’.

The ladies had pitifully let the argument go, but you had still your curiosity.

So, that night you devised a plan: usually after the act, Aemond would fall asleep immediately curled out to you so tightly that you often forgot where he began and where you ended, oftentimes with his lips on your sore breasts.

You had hidden a candle within reach and lighted it up swiftly as you wished not to alert Aemond, although the man had a heavy sleep and nothing could wake him up, aside the promise of the sweet nectar between your thighs.

You wondered how he’d be gone each morning but assumed that servants came to call him to his duty.

And yet, it wasn’t your husband that you found in your bed that night, once the candle shone the light on the bed, but his older brother, prince Aegon.

You couldn’t believe your eyes and for a moment believed that the depraved prince might have just chosen to lay beside you as an umpteenth act of his depravity, till slowly things started to make sense as you saw an eyepatch swiftly discarded to him, the light reddish signs of it adorning Aegon’s eye from the side where Aemond missed his own.

This explained why your husband always felt bigger to you, as Aegon was indeed chubbier than Aemond’s lithe body and what you had thought to be a simple play of darkness was instead the truth.

This way, you were brought to the realization that it wasn’t your husband who had laid by your side during those nights, but his brother.

And he was, inevitably, the child of the babe in your belly.

This explained Aemond’s bad taste at the mention that your child might take after him, as they wouldn’t have. Not when he wasn’t the father of the child you carried.

The shock got through you and accidentally you didn’t notice a drop of oiled wax fall lightly till Aegon hissed brutally, his eyes shooting open as the pain flew through his body and after a moment of confusion and pained annoyance, he finally realized what had hit him.

And that you stood over him, faced morphed in shock still, as he realized that you had come into the small secret between him and his brother. A purr left his mouth as his eyes slithered in pure amusement before he muttered:

“You finally discovered our little secret”.

You didn’t care that Aegon trailed after you butt naked, if not for the sheets that he clutched around him as you exited your chambers to reach Aemond’s private own, slamming the door open with enough intensity that your husband almost fell from his chair, before turning to chastise you for the unnecessary violence.

Or so he had thought, till he noticed your disheveled appearance: your nightgown fell flush against your protruding stomach and your eyes were tousled by sleep and other activities, whose sole memory brought you to shiver and not for the coldness in the room, while Aegon joined you in the room as well and any doubt fled your husband’s mind.

“How could you…” you spoke harshly, although your voice felt choked and while Aemond moved out of the desk, it was his brother who put a hand over your shoulder to ease you. The gesture just made you angrier as you turned to Aegon “… your… your wife…”.

You felt the bile rise in your throat and you dry-heaved with no shame as you felt yourself fold in two, under the disgust of what those men had pushed you through. 

You thought about your dear sister, Helaena, who had been a welcoming presence and how freely you had bedded her own husband, although you hadn’t known better.

The pleasure you had felt now seemed almost comical, as well as the creature in your belly, their innocence being the sole excuse to the sins of their parents.

“At ease, wife” such a name made you push away Aemond as he neared to help you up, while Aegon gently shielded you from the impact at your own force “… think about the child!”.

“A child whose father isn’t who he said to be!” you shouted in his face.

Although the sole thought of such a secret being let out petrified you, you wished somehow, with satisfaction, that you wanted everybody to know that it hadn’t been your fault.

That you had been unaware of the trick you had played.

“… let me go and don’t touch me! You disgust me! You both!”.

You finally settled on the floor with your legs spread open and your nightgown lightly raising, and much to your surprise, Aegon was quick to join you and Aemond just shook his head before matching your postures on the opposite side.

The anger in your chest simmered with pure tiredness as you felt the baby kick at your own unrest.

“I told you that it’d be a better thing if you had discussed” it seemed strange that it was the depraved older boy that chastised the chaste younger one “… if only you hadn’t been that prideful…”.

“The matter is done” Aemond shot him down solemnly searching your gaze as you were solely able to look forward “… but you must know, sweet wife, that it wasn’t in my intention to hurt you”.

“It isn’t the hurt I have come here for” you replied promptly, as you turned harshly to him, your eyes shining with anger and cutting deep as Aemond had at least the decency to lower his head “… it’s the injury and insult that you pushed upon your wife. Upon Aegon’s own! Your own sister!”.

“In my brother’s defense, although I didn’t think that I’d ever say it…”.

This time it was Aegon that spoke, his voice strangely somber although it still held his teasing tilt.

“… he meant the best for you. As for my sister… well, fear not Helaena much prefers it when I don’t indulge in our marital bed…”.

“So, you thought to slither in my own” you shot back with disbelief at his perversion. 

You had known that the Targaryens had queer customs, but certainly this went much further than that.

“… why? At least I am owed an explanation, am I not?”.

Aemond still lowered his head, and it again came onto Aegon to speak in his brother’s favor, as he readjusted the single sheet around his naked body.

“Aemond can’t bed you, dear good-sister” he spoke with a lilt of insult and Aemond lightly reprimanded him with an ‘Aegon’, although he didn’t deny the claim. Instead, he lowered his head as you turned to him “… can’t get it up… don’t know why…”.

“It has never been possible for me to feel…” Aemond bit his lower lip before continuing “… aroused. Not around, not around other ladies”.

“Or men” Aegon sufficed, being promptly hit by his brother’s feet on the thigh at his tease “… just had to clarify with how this family works…”.

“So, you thought that Aegon would be the man for the mission?” you taunted Aemond, as suddenly everything seemed to connect in your head “… I…”.

“You spoke about the need for an heir and for me to stop disgracing” Aemond threw back to you, your own words and you couldn’t help but growl at his poor attempt to shift the blame “… I didn’t… I sought out a solution that would benefit us all”.

“Imagine my surprise when my righteous brother came to ask me to fuck his wife”.

Aegon’s tone surprised you and you turned to him with utter indignation, while Aemond protested that ‘it hadn’t been like that’.

“… well, yeah you didn’t word it, but you mentioned that you had noticed how I looked at your sweet wife…”.

A strange tendril of something that you could only describe as arousal ruptured through you as the older prince’s eyes settled onto you and you were suddenly remembered of the way you had felt a gaze onto you at the family meals, only now realizing it was Aegon chasing after you.

“… I asked him how the married life was treating him” Aegon went on as you fought against the instinct of simply covering your ears as you didn’t wish any further lurid detail, although there was a part of you who wished to know the truth “… as he seemed all wound up. Suggested that he bedded you and have you an heir, as that’s what got mother to stop bothering me and Helaena”.

“He told me of his difficulty, and I suggested something plain and easy”.

“For him to father our children” Aemond finally assumed again the responsibility of this.

“… with your permission” it seemed strange that the perverted brother was the one interested in your consent “… I told him that he should have sought it out”.

“And I told him that you wouldn’t have accepted it” Aemond shot back, his eyes lowering in shame, as he admitted his involvement “… it’d have to happen just for a child and then we’d be free…”.

And then he’d never have you taste the wonders of the conjugal bed.

Somehow that pissed you even more or the treachery against you.

“I wouldn’t have ever accepted it because this is improper!” you shot up as you screamed as well, facing both brothers “… you willingly and knowingly tricked me into something I wasn’t aware of and now… now I carry the consequence of your sins”.

Silence fell after your accusations and in all truth a question formed in your mind.

“How do we go on from here?” the thought of the future made you feel even ditzier than the revelation “… what… what am I supposed to do? Now that… I know”.

“How I see it you have two options, lady wife” Aemond spoke meticulously, and you didn’t deny that the mention of your status to him made you eager to listen “… you can go back to your family. Stay there for the pregnancy and for the rest, raising our child without the perversion of these walls…”.

“Your family won’t let me go that easily” you stated as you weren’t pregnant with a Targaryen, but also, you’d have a possible spare to Aegon’s own heirs and knowing the truth, your child might be a bastard, but he held a better claim to the throne than had your child been Aemond’s “… no way”.

“I’ll handle my family” Aemond said it with enough conviction that you believed him, although he had just proved to be able to betray you fully.

“And what is the second option?” Aegon spoke more curious than you “… it’s a bit too late for moontea…”.

“… the second option is staying here and continue with the knowledge of it”.

Your eyes met Aemond with utter incredulity at the thought that your life could continue as it went.

“… I don’t … I enjoy our conversations and I know you enjoy bedding Aegon. I made peace with it”.

“I enjoyed it because I thought it was you!” you shot back, hearing Aegon bitter chuckle “… my rightful husband”.

“Who can’t satisfy you” Aegon pipped in, as you turned to him flustered “… I know the way you blossom underneath me. How the tension moves away when I ent…”.

“We have a good thing” Aemond spoke “… it isn’t proper and neither it can be brought to the public, but our deal satisfies you, obviously. You are with child, an heir to me that I’ll recognize as my own, although it isn’t. You enjoy me as a husband and Aegon as a bedmate to fill my shortcomings”.

Said like this, it seemed almost as some idyllic portrait, and you held Aemond’s gaze as he went on.

“It can be like this, and nothing has to change” and he then touched his chest where his family crest was threaded “… the dragon has three heads, doesn’t it”.

And it hit you that you had by now grown used to this and that although it’d have been proper to distance yourself from this entire situation as it wasn’t only unfair to you, but also improper had it ever gotten out, you had grown too dependent onto your tender actions with Aemond and onto Aegon’s touch.

Still, you couldn’t forgive them. At least not for them.

“I’ll stay”.

Both boys seemed relieved as you turned away from them, only now realizing the ruckus you were in and the shame at such a state.

“… but neither of you is to come close to me before the end of my pregnancy”.

And without even ascertaining that they had understood, you moved away swiftly, not catching the quick whisper of Aegon to his brother.

“I bet she won’t last even a month, without us”.

And in all truth, you lasted a month and a week before the pregnancy cravings got to you.

[aegontaargaryens]

Daemon Targaryen in 1x04: King of the Narrow Sea

[aegontaargaryens]

Are we getting a part 2 of of love and duty? 👀

eventually i promise 😭

[aegontaargaryens]

[aegontaargaryens]

The Snow in the Moonlight

Cregan Stark x Reader

Summary: Longing for your husband while he is far away, you seek solace by the Weirwood Tree where you were married.

Part 3 of the Musical-Inspired One Shot Series

Listening to the song isn't required but I do encourage it cause it's gorgeous!

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Angst, pining, ambiguous ending, some fluff, Cregan Stark is a hottie, Dance of The Dragons mention and other related things

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: My first time writing Cregan oops. Also not sorry about the Arnas faceclaim because LOOK AT HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

dividers by @firefly-graphics

During the day, you were the Lady of Winterfell, proper and strong, always with your head held high and your hair knotted neatly at the back of your neck. In the nights, however, you were a lonely woman, mournful and quiet, who ached for her husband. 

When you were first betrothed to the young Warden of the North, Cregan Stark, your mother was beside herself with joy. 

As the Targaryen Civil War raged on in the South, your options for husbands had become unexpectedly limited, and a proposal from a Stark was the best match a Northern girl could hope for, even in the best of circumstances.

He wrote you letters in scratchy, scrawled ink, some of the words smeared from his hand dragging over them before they'd dried. You guessed, based on the smudges, that he was left-handed, a fact that made you oddly giddy. You liked to trace over them with the tip of your finger, imagining what it might be like to hold those same hands.

You only actually met Lord Stark a handful of times before he marched south with his men to fight for the Dragon Queen, Rhaenyra Targaryen, but you’d found yourself immediately infatuated with him. Although he was large and rugged, with an admittedly intimidating air, his gray eyes were soft, almost childlike, and his smile made your heart twist in your chest. 

“My Lady,”  he had greeted you when you first arrived in Winterfell, “I am honored to meet you. Your portrait was beautiful, but I must say, it pales in comparison to the sight of you in the flesh.”

Oh, how your head spun at his sweet words, your pulse thrumming in your veins as you smiled up at him shyly. 

“My Lord,” you had murmured, dipping your head in deference. “It is I who is honored. I have most enjoyed your letters, though your spoken words seem to be just as poetic.”

Now, your heart only throbs with longing. You were certain that the way you felt when he looked upon you was what love felt like, and to have him so cruelly taken from you only days after your wedding caused you more pain than you thought someone’s absence could. Even now, your chest felt hollow, and your eyes were ringed from lack of sleep from the long nights you stayed awake, weeping, and terrified that he might never return. 

Tonight was no different, and rather than lie in your cold martial bed and stare at the ceiling, you decided to go for a walk. It was late, and no ladies in waiting or well-intentioned handmaidens would be around to bother you. As quietly as you could, you donned your heavy fur-lined cloak, stockings, and boots and crept down the hall, sneaking past the few guards and maesters that remained awake. 

When, at last, you made your way outside, you sighed softly in relief. The frost-ridden air stung in your lungs, but you didn’t mind. The faint ache was a reminder that you were alive. That the world kept on turning, even though it felt to you as though it had stopped the day your husband rode out the gates of Winterfell. 

Beneath the light of the moon, the snow glittered like a million tiny gems, seeming almost to glow. It crunched softly beneath your boots as you walked, steps disturbing its crisp, untouched surface. 

You glance up at the moon, admiring its cold, faraway beauty. There was not a cloud in the sky tonight, and your view of it and the twinkling stars dotting the night sky was unobscured. You were not sure how anyone could sleep on such a night–they were all dozing while such glory hung directly above their heads.

Perhaps Cregan would have admired the sight by your side were he here. You did not know if he cared for such things, but the version of him you held in your head certainly did. 

At last, you reach your destination: the Weirwood Tree in front of which you and Lord Cregan said your vows all those weeks ago. You stand before its broad trunk, reverently tracing your fingertips over the face etched into the bark. 

“I swear to honor and protect you, my dear wife, until the end of my days,” he’d stated before the gathering of lords and ladies. His hands had been rough, callused, and dwarfed your own in size. His grey eyes were warm and steady, and any fear you'd had about your union was a distant memory. 

You were scarcely aware of your own vows, your blood rushing in your ears and drowning out everything except the sound of your heartbeat. Cregan had smiled at you though, so they must not have been as terrible as you feared they might be. 

Then, he kissed you, slow and firm, his lips sure where yours trembled. 

You sank to your knees before the tree, the snow crunching softly at the impact, the cold radiating through your cloak and nightdress. Suppressing a shiver, you stared at the face of the tree, considering its gnarled features before you spoke.

“Please,” you whispered, your breath forming a cloud before you, “bring him home to me.” 

Some distant, childish part of your mind hoped that the tree might reply. Might promise to deliver on what you asked of it. Instead, it stares back, unmoved and unchanged. 

You stay there on your knees for some time, your chest tight from the frost-laden breaths you draw, your eyes welling from the cold. Eventually, your knees begin to grow numb, and you force yourself to stand, stumbling back toward the fortress reluctantly. 

“I will return to you, wife. I swear it,” Cregan had said before he mounted his horse. I do not fear death, but I have no intention of doing so just yet.” 

He’d smiled at you with that gentle, boyish grin of his, and you'd tried to return it, but you knew it did not meet your eyes. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips and then your forehead and squeezed your hands one last time. 

For a moment, time stood still, and you tried with all your might to commit the feeling of his lips, rough and sweet, on yours to memory. 

Then he was gone.

You did not know when or if he would return to you as he'd promised. There was no way to be sure, save for the infrequent ravens that delivered his letters to you. 

Still, you often fantasized that he would come today, or perhaps, that he already had. Maybe he was in your chambers, sitting by the fireplace waiting for you, and you'd simply forgotten he was there.

Main Tag List:

@chompchompluke @osferthsbussy @girlwith-thepearlearring @prettyblondguys @chrispumpkin @babyblue711 @crownedtargaryen @skikikikiikhhjuuh @randomdragonfires @brianochka @schniiipsel @partypoison00 @targaryenbrainrot @hotdapologist @aiyaiy @melsunshine @urlocalavenderhazestan @beiigegalx @fan-goddess @namelesslosers @watercolorskyy

[aegontaargaryens]

im just a normal girl . i sit near a body of water and immediately experience the entire range of human emotions

[aegontaargaryens]

High Score

Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Modern AU)

Summary: You've started to develop a thing for your best friend's hands...

Rating: Explicit/18+

Warnings: NSFW/Minors DNI, gamer!aemond (gaemond???), friends to lovers, fluff and smut, pussy AND titty slapping, titty sucking, dry humping, praise, degradation, teasing, fingering, oral (f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected sex but reader has an IUD so it's still pretty much protected, hand kink, size kink, begging, profanity, creampie, ummmm I think that's it!

Word Count: 4.6k

A/N: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LIL SHORDDY @osferthsbussy!!! ILYSM & I feel so very lucky to have met you via this godforsaken website 🥰🫶🏻

I hope this ruins your day (positive)

Shout out to Aegon Knows Best by @valeskafics for putting the idea of gamer!Aemond (and gray sweatpants) into my brain. If you haven't read it yet, you SHOULD

Dividers by @hotdapologist

Let's go whores!!

You and Aemond had been friends since the first day of college classes when he'd awkwardly asked if he could sit by you in your Communications 101 lecture. He'd been on the scrawny side then–tall and gangly, with no control over his long limbs–and wore some oversized band t-shirt that he was practically drowning in.

Although he'd been a bit awkward and reserved at first, you quickly learned that he was ridiculously intelligent with a dry sense of humor and a sarcastic wit that never failed to make you laugh, even on your worst days. By the end of that semester, he was one of your best friends, and you wouldn't have had it any other way. 

Now, four years later, you were both recently graduated, out of relationships, and had far too much time on your hands. 

Aemond had been single for almost a year now–his toxic on again off again relationship with an older grad student had finally gone down in flames (which you totally weren't secretly elated about), and he 'didn't do' dating apps–while you were a few months out of your most recent situationship with the jackass you had been seeing for the better part of the last year.

Both of your most recent relationships had been tumultuous at best, and neither one of you was exactly eager to jump back into the dating scene. Instead, you opted to spend your time with each other. 

Since graduating a month ago, you'd watched all of Death Note (Aemond's choice) and three full seasons of Love Island (your pick), watched Aemond play through countless different video games, and built upon your already-established friendship. He was the kind of person you could just sit in the same room with and both be on your phones and still have a good time just being in each other's presence. You were together nearly every day; more often than not, you'd spend the night at one another's apartments. 

The time you'd spent with him was fun, you wouldn't deny that, but it also came with a shocking and catastrophic realization on your end: nerdy, awkward Aemond Targaryen was fucking hot now.

You weren't sure exactly when it had happened. All you knew was that suddenly his shirts stretched tightly across newly formed chest muscles, and his silvery hair was neatly trimmed and tidy. Most devastating of all, though?

His hands. His stupid, big hands. 

They were massive, with long slender fingers–he really should have stuck with the piano lessons he told you his mom put him in as a kid, honestly. The outline of his veins that were visible across the backs of them, however, was what drove you the craziest. You weren’t sure what it was about them–they were literally just veins–and yet they had you feeling two steps away from utterly feral every time you focused on them for too long. 

In spite of his newfound attractiveness, Aemond was still very much a nerd–he could wax poetic about history for hours on end and spent more time watching anime and playing video games than he did outside.

Unfortunately for you, that meant hanging out with him was usually one on one time with no other person as a buffer to keep you from going off the deep end and trying to do something stupid like suck him off while he played Call of Duty. Still, you weren’t exactly going to say no to hanging out with one of your best friends, no matter how inappropriate your thoughts were–which brought you to today. 

You and Aemond originally planned to go out and see a movie–something in public for once–but when it started raining, you opted to just stay at his place and chill as you most often did. Aemond sat dressed in a pair of grey sweats and a worn-out King’s Landing University t-shirt, half-hunched over on the couch, elbows on his knees and his tongue poking out from between his lips in concentration as he focused on the screen.

You pretended to watch whatever stupid mission he was playing on the TV screen but in reality? You were staring at his fucking hands. Again. 

His fingers were curled around the controller, gripping it lightly, thumbs dancing over the buttons as he maneuvered through a particularly tricky part of the map with ease. You couldn't help but imagine those fingers pressed inside  you, one of his thumbs circling your clit the way he did with the controller sticks when he adjusted his camera view–

You breathe in deeply in an attempt to steady yourself, pressing your thighs together tightly, a flood of arousal coursing through you at your shameful thoughts. 

Aemond glanced your way briefly, shooting you a curious look.

“You okay?” he quipped lightly, cocking a pale eyebrow at you.

“All good!” you replied, your voice coming out far more high-pitched than you intended, making you wince at how false it sounded. “I'm fine,” you insist, forcing what you hope is an innocent expression in his direction.

"Are you sure?” Aemond pressed, tilting his head curiously. “You seem…tense,” He is half ignoring his game now, and his distraction causes him to be shot down.

“Oh, fuck me!” he swears loudly, tossing the controller to the side on the couch and dragging a hand over his face as he slouches back against the cushions. He picks it back up again with a groan and clicks through the menu, queuing up another game, all the while stealing glances at you. 

You found your eyes drawn to his hands again– it was becoming a major issue how turned on you were by them, really. You're jerked from your reverie by the sound of Aemond clearing his throat.

"Something wrong with my hands?” he flicks his gaze between your face and his fingers, the barest hint of realization beginning to creep onto his countenance. On top of everything else, it appeared you evidently were not subtle. Internally, you cursed yourself.

“No, sorry, I just, um… I'm just impressed by how quick you are with your reaction time?” Your excuse comes out more like a question, and you can't tell if he buys it based on how unreadable his expression is. He has always had a frighteningly good poker face.

“Want me to teach you?” he offers after a beat, the corner of his mouth tipping up into a faint, teasing smile. “Not to brag or anything, but I did teach my little cousin, Luke, everything he knows.” 

You know perfectly well how to play, and he knew that too, but under the guise of innocence that you were clinging to, you nod.

“C’mere then,” he grins impishly, extending a hand to beckon you over to his side, his bicep stretching the arm of his t-shirt ever so slightly. He really needed to invest in some new clothes. 

Fucking hell.

You scoot toward him, doing your utmost to keep your expression light and playful, snagging the controller from him. His fingers brush against yours ever so slightly, sending an involuntary wave of heat to your core, and you bite down on the inside of your cheek to ground yourself. 

All your efforts go entirely out the window when he reaches an arm around you and covers your hands with his on the warm plastic, brushing his thumbs against yours. He's so much larger than you, his frame all but swallowing yours in his embrace, such as it was. The heat of his body radiates through his shirt against your back, the muscles of his chest pressed firmly against you, so close that you can feel his heartbeat.

He smells like cucumber soap and fresh laundry detergent, and his hands look even larger in comparison to yours, his fingers threading over your own, making you feel dizzy. You want to feel them between your legs.

“Alright, ready?” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. You swallow heavily, eyes fixated on the controls, and force yourself to take a deep breath.

“Yeah,” you manage to squeak out. He chuckles, the vibration of his laugh thrumming against your back, and he guides your thumb to press 'play'.

He talks you through the controls, helping you to move around the map, aiming your gun for you, and taking out a few enemies. It's a wonder you manage that at all, even with him guiding you–his body engulfs yours, leaning into you a bit more insistently. There's no way he doesn't know what he's doing right now, and the thought sends a thrill down your spine as he makes your character peek around a corner to check for opponents.

“There you go, good girl,” he hums as you shoot down another player, winning the game. His arms tighten around you ever so slightly, his thumbs stroking the backs of your hands absentmindedly. You have to physically bite down on your lip to keep from moaning outright. 

“Well done, I'm impressed,” he comments, removing his arms from you, much to your displeasure. He pats your knee lightly in encouragement, grinning down at you as your gaze is drawn–once again–to his annoyingly large hand. 

“It was only because I had you guiding me,” you're going for a nonchalant response, but your voice comes out breathy, almost lusty.  

“You should play with me more often,” his smile when he says it is innocent enough, but you can see a suggestive glint in his good eye. Your cheeks grow hot at the suggestion, which comes off a lot lewder, given that his palm is still pressed against the bare skin on your lower thigh. 

“You keep looking at my hands,” he comments idly when you don't reply, flexing his fingers against you. 

“Do I?” you squeak, your question soured by the fact that you had to drag your gaze from his hand to look him in the eye.

“Yeah,” he hums. “I'm starting to think you like them,” his voice drips with barely concealed amusement, leaning in closer toward you, eye searching your face for a reaction to his accusation.

“That’s ridiculous,” you answer far too quickly, eyes wide. “They’re just hands. Why would I like your hands? Shut up,” even to yourself, you sound incredibly childish, and you wince slightly at your word choice. 

“Yeah,” Aemond agrees, his warm palm sliding slowly up your thigh, fingers squeezing lightly. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out–why would you like my hands?” He moves closer to you, eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes, waiting to see if you would pull away. You stay rooted to the spot, your heart pounding in your chest. 

“You tell me,” you challenge, though your resolve not to give in is decreasing by the second. “You’re the one who suggested it so…”

“Hm,” his hand stops just below the hem of your shorts, and he leans closer, his nose nearly brushing yours. It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him right now, and the only thing holding you back is the fear that kissing one of your closest friends might ruin what you already had. 

“I think,” he purrs, “that you’ve been imagining me using these hands on you,” he wets his lips with the tip of his tongue. “I think you’ve been wondering what it would feel like to have them on your thighs,” he squeezes yours for emphasis, “on your hips,” he moves his opposite hand to grip yours, turning you further to face him, “and on your wet little pussy.”

You whimper softly at the last suggestion, arousal pooling at your center, glancing down at his lips briefly and leaning forward unconsciously, your nose bumping his. 

“Yeah, you have been imagining that,” he chuckles and closes what distance remains between the two of you, pulling you into a searing kiss. 

You respond immediately, a surprised little squeak escaping you against his lips and a hand flying to his shoulder, the other pressed to his chest, curled tightly into the soft material of his shirt. 

Aemond wastes no time pulling you over onto his lap, settling you against his already-apparent bulge in the gray sweatpants he wears, snickering into your mouth at the quiet moan it elicits from you. He takes your lower lip in his teeth, biting softly before slipping his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss, the hand on your thigh sliding back behind you to grab your ass. 

He’s an annoyingly good kisser, half-devouring you, his lips moving against yours, tongue tracing down the roof of your mouth teasingly. His other hand sneaks its way under your shirt, squeezing at your breast, his hips jerking up against yours. You can barely keep up with his pace, your head spinning with delirious pleasure at how utterly sinful his touch feels against you, and you slip a hand into his soft, silver hair, caressing his scalp as you return his attentions with equal fervor. 

Your free hand slips up his shirt, fingers trailing over the flexing muscles of his abdomen, up to his chest, enjoying the way he shudders with delight under your touch. He breaks the kiss momentarily, yanking your little white t-shirt up over your head and throwing it carelessly onto the floor, his lips claiming yours again the second it’s out of the way. Your bra isn’t far behind, sailing across the room after some minimal struggling with the clasp, both of his hands moving to take hold of your tits. 

Aemond leans back, eye raking over your chest hungrily, dragging a thumb over your nipple, gaze glowing in admiration. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, ducking his head to engulf your nipple in his warm, waiting mouth, fingers trailing down your sides to grip your hips, grinding you down on his hardened cock. Your mouth drops open in an “o” shape, a wanton cry tumbling from your parted lips, his flickering tongue against your hardened bud making your pussy clench desperately. 

He releases your nipple from his mouth, turning his attention to the other, one hand darting to pinch at the abandoned spit-soaked peak, humming against you in approval. The reverberation of the soft noise makes you gasp, arching against him as he sucks at the pretty little bud of your breast. 

“Aemond,” you sigh, gripping tighter at his hair, holding him to your chest, enraptured by the sensation. He circles your nipple with the tip of his tongue while he suckles at it, clearly enjoying the reactions you’re giving him, palming your other breast roughly. 

He pulls his mouth away with a lewd “pop” and reaches back to grab the collar of his shirt, yanking it off with one hand, baring his torso to your enthusiastic gaze. 

“Perfect fucking tits,” he growls, smacking at one lightly before he surges back up to capture your lips in another starved kiss, shifting the pair of you so you’re lying on your back before him, allowing him to slot himself between your soft thighs, rolling his hips insistently against your clothed center. 

He slips a hand down the front of your shorts, cupping your sex in his broad hand, fingers pressed to your dripping core through the fabric of your arousal-soaked panties. 

“Did my hands get you this wet, baby?” he croons, a teasing edge creeping into his voice. You only moan in response, drawing a pleased chuckle from him as he trails his tongue down your neck, pausing at the juncture between it and your shoulder to bite at the tender skin lightly, sucking at the spot to leave a bruise behind. 

“Aw, come on,” you can feel his smirk against your neck. “Use your words.”

“Fucking–yes…fuck, they did–” you cry out, bucking your hips against his palm, seeking any friction he would give you. 

“That’s what I thought,” he preens, sitting back to tuck his fingers into the waist of your shorts, dragging them down your legs. “Let’s put them to good use then, hm?” he coos. 

“Please,” you respond weakly. He grins at you wolfishly, pulling off your panties swiftly, and reaches up, placing two fingers against your lips. 

“Be a good girl and get them ready for me then, will you?”  he prompts, his smile taking on a condescending edge. You don’t hesitate to open your mouth, allowing his fingers inside and sucking, your tongue swirling around them eagerly. 

“Fuck, you’re desperate, aren’t you?” he taunts, eye locked on where your lips part around his long fingers. “If I’d known, I would've given you this a long time ago,” he pulls his spit-slicked fingers from your rounded mouth. “I guess we’ll just have to make up for lost time.”

Aemond leans down again, littering your neck and chest with hot kisses, dragging his fingers through your dripping folds, teasing at your entrance but refusing to put them inside you fully. Slowly, he trails them upward to your aching clit, just barely brushing over it before making his way back down. He repeats the action several more times, spreading a mix of your spit and slick up and down until you’re whimpering below him, tears pricking in your eyes from how achingly turned on he’s making you. 

“Aw, baby,” he presses a soft kiss to your lips, “don’t cry, I’ll give you what you need. Here–” You moan as he finally pushes a finger into your throbbing cunt, sinking in, down to his knuckle and curling the digit to brush the little rough spot inside you. He sets a torturously slow pace, adding a second finger after a few moments, the delicious stretch making you keen. 

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, leaning down to kiss you. “This little pussy is gonna feel so good wrapped around my cock.” You whine, bucking your hips against his fingers, desperately seeking more. He sits back on his haunches, eye trained to where his digits are buried inside you, releasing an appreciative hiss through his gritted teeth. 

“I can see the appeal of my fingers now,” he admits lowly, glancing up at your face for a moment. “C’mere, look,” he beckons you with his free hand, and you sit up halfway on your elbows, following his gaze down to where he’s fucking you with his fingers. “They do look damn good like this,” he grunts. 

He’s right–they look fucking glorious, thrusting in and out of your weeping cunt, glistening with your slick, squelching loudly with each plunge inside you. You whimper, not daring to take your eyes from the sight, each deep curl of his fingers fanning the flames growing deep in your belly, your entire body burning from his touch alone. 

“Seven Hells,” you mewl, legs trembling, your muscles tensing, your brows knitted in pleasure.

“Mm,” Aemond smirks. “Lie back, love, I’ve got you,” you do as he says, and he lowers himself down, his face pressed between your thighs, his mouth settling on your cunt, a satisfied moan rumbling in his chest as he starts moving his tongue against your clit. 

You’d had decent–even good–sex before, but nothing in the world could have prepared you for this. He moves the flat of his tongue back and forth across your bud, massaging the little bundle steadily, smoothly, until you’re all but grinding against his face, the only sounds you’re capable of being tiny broken cries of rapture as he drags you closer and closer to orgasm. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Aemond–” you squeal, blissed out of your mind as he crooks his fingers right, lapping at your clit like a man starved, groaning against your pussy deliriously. He withdraws his fingers, swapping places with his tongue, rubbing your clit intently as he plunges the warm, wet muscle into your entrance, fucking you with it, his eye locked on your face, watching your pleasured expressions with unbridled glee. 

“Gonna cum for me?” he asks, his voice dripping with honey. You nod wildly, your peak fast approaching, growing closer, closer, closer, and just like that, he’s gone. 

You sit up on your elbows, a frustrated, strangled cry ripping from your throat, half-angry at his denial of the delicious peak that was just about to overtake you. 

“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he grins at you roguishly, standing to rid himself of his sweats, which were stained with both your arousal and his pre-cum. “I want you to cum on my cock.” All you can do is let out a whimper at that, your eyes wide with shock and eagerness. 

He tugs off his sweatpants and boxers in one go, revealing himself to you in all his glory. His cock is pale, like the rest of him, with a dusting of silvery hair to match what adorns his chest around the base of it. It’s long, thick, and fully hard, the tip reddened and weeping beads of precum, and you don’t think you’ve ever wanted to suck someone off so badly, but he seems to have other plans. 

“Let me get a condom,” he rasps. He moves to hurry to his bedroom in search of one, but you stop him before he can take more than a step. 

“I’m clean,” you blurt out, “and I have an IUD–we don’t need one.” He moans loudly at your admission, grasping his length at the base and pumping it a few times as he lowers himself above you. 

“You’re sure?” he growls, his eye dark with insatiable, all-consuming lust. You’ve never said “yes” so quickly in your life. 

“You want me to fuck you real bad, huh? Want me to stretch you out on this big dick?” he hums, raking his gaze over your completely bare body, swiping his thumb over the head of his cock, collecting the pre-cum that has gathered there. You whine in response, and he purses his lips, displeased by your answer.

“What did I say earlier?” he growls, delivering a sharp slap to your throbbing pussy. “Use your words. Tell me how much you need me.”

“Aemond, please,” you all but sob, “please fuck me, I need it–I need your cock inside me, plea–” you’re cut off abruptly by him sheathing himself in you fully, a protracted, rough moan erupting from his chest as he sinks in, down to the hilt. You cry out, overwhelmed by how impossibly full you feel, your head falling back against the couch cushions heavily, gasping out at the delicious intrusion. 

“Fuck, you’re…so big,” you huff weakly, breaths coming out in short little pants. He’s so massive, so deep inside you that you feel like you’re being taken apart, your cunt fluttering helplessly around his length. No shitty one-night stand or situationship came anywhere near how mind-numbingly exquisite he felt, and he hadn’t even started moving yet.

You were fucking done for. 

He takes his time as he begins thrusting into you, varying his angle until he finds the spot inside you that makes you gasp every time the swollen head of him brushes against it. When he finds it, though? You swear you can see a switch flip behind his eye. 

Hands planted on either side of your head, he begins to fuck you in earnest, capturing your moans in a needy, messy kiss, his hips slapping against yours audibly. You can feel yourself flutter around him, a fresh flood of arousal gushing from you as his length drags over your sweet spot again and again. You don’t bother trying to hold in your cries of pleasure, letting them fall from you freely, breaking off sharply every time his cock slams inside you, knocking the wind from your lungs. 

“This sweet…little…pussy,” Aemond snarls against your lips, spurred on by the way you’re wailing for him. “Clenching around me…so tight…” he’s scarcely coherent, just spitting out whatever filthy words come to mind, his lips parted, eye heavily lidded in ecstasy. “Wanted this…for so long–fuck–” He slips a hand between your bodies, caressing your bud in tight little circles, groaning deep in his throat when you tighten around him involuntarily. 

You feel as though you’re slowly losing your mind, your brain wiped blank except for the overwhelming waves of pleasure coursing through your veins with each roll of his hips, each swipe of his thumb over your sensitive little pearl. 

“Look at you,” he breathes, staring down at you greedily. “Making such a mess on my cock…so desperate for me…I’d almost say it was pathetic if you weren’t making me feel…so…good.”

He draws out nearly all the way, leaving just his tip nestled inside you before he fucks back in, harsh and fast, punctuating each word with a deep thrust, sharp wails escaping you with every thrust he gives you. 

“Taking me so well,” he growls, pressing his face against your neck, continuing to mumble a string of praises against your skin. You dig your nails into his shoulder blades, your legs wrapped around his waist as his thrusts pick up in pace again, the wet smacking noises of your fucking rising in volume. 

You're achingly close to your climax, and if Aemond's increasingly erratic thrusts were anything to go by, so was he.

“Please, oh—I’m gonna–fuck,” you ramble brokenly, clinging onto him for dear life, your sweat-slick chest pressed to his.

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?” he grunts, his length twitching deep inside you. “Do it then, let that little pussy make a mess on my cock,” he coaxes, fingers insistently caressing your bud, biting down on your shoulder with a guttural groan. 

The tightness in your gut snaps at last, and you arch up, eyes scrunching closed in bliss, your mouth hanging open stupidly as you're drowned in euphoria. Burning pleasure overtakes all of your senses, one last loud, debauched cry ripping from you as you shake, at last coming apart around him, pussy tight around his wonderfully thick length. 

“Oh shit–so fucking–” Aemond drives into you sloppily, panting against your neck as his hips stutter, spilling his hot cum inside you, slamming in one last time and holding himself there, buried deep in your pulsing cunt. You whine at the feeling of him filling you, your hips jerking slightly, the sensation almost too much to bear. 

“Fuck,” he breathes raggedly against your shoulder, lips tickling at your skin. After a beat, he leans up, kissing you again before he pulls out.

“Don't move,” he murmurs, “let me clean you up,” he reaches to the side table, grabs a wad of tissues, and wipes his spend from between your thighs, biting back a moan at the sight of it leaking out of you. 

He discards the tissues and returns to you, pulling his sweats back on and handing you your panties. You take them, a bolt of worry coursing through you–was this a one-time thing? Was your friendship ruined now?

Apparently, your distress is visible on your face because Aemond reaches over and grabs your knee gently, rubbing his thumb in slow circles.

“Hey,” Aemond says softly, moving closer to you. “Stop overthinking,” he grins, pressing his forehead to yours. “We don't have to talk about it now, but I…I may have had a bit of a thing for you for a while,”  he brushes his nose against yours lightly. 

Relief floods through you at his confession, though you do feel slightly embarrassed by how easily he's able to read you. 

“Oh,” you manage to say.

“‘Oh,’ is right,” he chuckles faintly, pressing his lips to yours. “You're good. We're good, okay?”

You nod in confirmation, your cheeks burning, your heart thundering wildly. 

He grins, leaning back and tugging you to his chest, his arm a comforting weight wrapped around you. Extending his free hand before you both, he flexes his fingers, examining them thoughtfully.

“So,” he comments idly. “My hands, huh?”

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@aemvnd @paprikaquinn @persephonerinyes @dreamlandcreations @yentroucnagol @doingfondue @shesjustanothergeek @hb8301 @doublesparrows @boundlessfantasy @buglyberry @diosademuerte @lauftivy @kezibear @boofy1998 @elegantsplendour

BOLD means I could not tag you. If you'd like to be tagged in future fics, drop a comment or send me an ask/dm and I'll be more than happy to add you!

[aegontaargaryens]

[aegontaargaryens]

"Things Have Changed" - Alpha!Aemond Targaryen x Omega Niece!Reader, Side Alpha!Aegon Targaryen II x Omega Niece!Reader

A/N: a request from my beloved @silverwinged hehe i hope this lives up to your expectations my darling ❤️

Summary: You see your alpha uncles for the first time in years when you and your family return to King's Landing to settle the matter of Luke's inheritance. And your heat hits you harder than ever before...

Word Count: 3,224

Rating: 18+, Minors DNI

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, canon typical INCEST, a/b/o dynamics, p in v sex, unprotected sex, exhibitionism/voyeurism, cucking i guess, breeding kink, tiddy sucking my beloved, finger sucking, male masturbation

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Driftmark. Inheritance. Succession.

All of these words go in through one ear and out the other as your mother and stepfather speak to each other. Luke’s claim has been threatened. You must go to make your case that he is set to inherit Driftmark.

You grab Jace’s hand, your beloved twin and betrothed, squeezing tightly. Though you do not harbor any romantic feelings for him nor he for you, you know he cares for you deeply and will be a good husband to you, a good king. He may be a beta, and thereby you may never be fully satisfied with your marital life, but you think you will be quite content being joined with him in matrimony. He’s your dearest friend, after all. 

Jace looks at you, worried, “What is it, dear sister?”

“My heat is due to begin soon,” you say quietly, “But mayhaps it will not happen? I’m a bit nervous, Jace…”

Jace presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, smiling at you, “I will protect you from any untoward alphas present if it does, do not worry.”

You find yourself wondering just who said untoward alphas there could be. Surely Jace does not think that Aegon and Aemond have ill intentions toward you? They were never anything but sweet toward you in your childhood. Always offering for you to sit beside them at meals, offering to take you on walks in the gardens. In fact, they often bickered over who got your attention. Your young uncles adore you, at least as far as you know.

When you arrive in King’s Landing, you’re happy in truth that you’re not greeted by all of the royal family. You wish to go to your old chambers, to sink into the plush comforter and hide yourself away from the world.

But no, Jace insists on dragging you to the training courtyard, where you used to watch the boys train. Those days seem so far away now, so carefree. You remember the long days you’d spend sitting in the Godswood with Aemond, talking about your plans to claim your own dragons one day, since neither of the eggs placed in your cradles hatched. Sometimes you’d chase butterflies in the gardens with Helaena. Other days, you, Aegon, Jace, and Luke would sneak into the kitchens, gorging yourselves on lemon cakes and other such delicacies.

While there was certainly conflict between some of the boys, and certainly between your mothers, your childhood in King’s Landing was a happy one. So, beyond the fact that your heat will be beginning any moment now, you’re quite excited at the thought of seeing Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena again.

As Luke tells Jace about his worries about the whole situation, you pull your younger brother into a warm embrace, your scent calming him as you press an almost maternal kiss to his forehead, “Don’t worry, little Luke. Everything will be just fine.”

Jace nods, “She’s right. Now come on, let’s see what all that fuss is about, hm?”

You two walk over towards where someone is training. You see that one of the fighters is none other than Ser Criston Cole, wincing slightly. The man has always given you a bit of a strange feeling whenever you’re near him, though you can’t quite put your finger on why. You just have an instinct that he’s one to stay away from.

But the other…

You see your Uncle Aemond, and he nearly takes your breath away. His long, platinum hair, his sharp jawline, the curve of his chin, his strong nose, his brilliant blue eye… And gods, when did he become so tall? He practically towers over you now… But the most exhilarating thing about it all is his scent. The only alpha you’ve been around for the last few years is Daemon, and being mated to your mother, his scent isn’t overpowering to you like that of an unmated alpha. Especially one who seems like he’s about to go into a rut.

One like Aemond.

As if he senses your presence, he turns to face you and your brothers. He greets them, asking if they’ve come to train. But his eye never leaves your form. You feel your breathing grow uneven, the heat rising to your cheeks as his gaze moves languidly over your form.

“Perzītsos,” Aemond murmurs, taking your hand in his, bowing and brushing his lips over your knuckles, “I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you.”

Little flame. What he’d always called you.

You swallow thickly, your heartbeat racing, “Uncle. I’m glad to see you too,” you pause, “You’ve presented as an alpha then?”

“And you as an omega,” the corner of his lip curves up, “How very interesting.”

Aemond remembers the last time he saw you, just after he lost his eye. Neither he nor Aegon had yet presented, nor had you. You had held his hand as he was tended to, despite his mother’s insistence that you leave, that it was your brother who caused all this. Aemond had not cared and demanded that you be allowed to remain at his side. He remembers the feeling of you hugging him goodbye as you once again walked out of his life, not three weeks after coming back into it.

And now, here you are. Standing in front of him. A woman grown. An omega. Aegon and Aemond both presented soon after their return from Driftmark, both alphas. With no suitable omegas in sight, Aegon was married off to Helaena, a beta. Aemond, however, resisted his mother’s attempts at matching him with some Baratheon omega.

He knew from a young age that it was you he wanted. Omega or not. Your presentation? It just means that the gods see the two of you as a perfect match as far as he is concerned.

But, there’s one obstacle Aemond foresees, and that would be his brother. Bonded to Helaena, and though loyal to his mate, never fully satisfied without having an omega, what his body calls for. He knows when Aegon sees you, he’s going to want to have you.

After the hearing, where Daemon so deftly severs Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s head from his body, Aegon approaches you. You gaze up at him, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. Aegon is no less beautiful than Aemond, simply in a different way. Aegon’s features, slightly more rounded and gentle, his eyes almost doe-like, remind you almost of an angel, or at least how artists imagine them. They both have an unearthly beauty about them, and as you look between the two, you know that you’re in trouble. Especially when you feel that familiar warmth, deep in your stomach…

You quickly make your escape from the throne room, running all the way to your chambers, clutching at your stomach. Your heat is here and you need to get as far away from everyone as possible. You call for Maester Mellos to send you some herbs to suppress your symptoms, your mother coming in and comforting you, running a hand through your hair, whispering how strong you are, how you’ll get through this heat just as you have all the others.

But this time is very, very different. This time, there are two alphas lying in wait to claim their little omega.

When you manage to pull yourself together enough to make yourself presentable for dinner, you take Jace’s arm, walking into the dining hall, clinging to his side, his benign scent soothing you. He squeezes your hand again, telling you that the moment you wish to leave, he will escort you away from the dinner table.

When you walk into the room, Aegon and Aemond exchange a look. Despite the suppressants, despite your best efforts at hiding what’s happening, they can pick up on your scent, intensified by your heat, cloyingly sweet to any non alpha, but to an alpha? Gods, you smell fucking irresistible. You are seated between Aegon and your twin, still gripping Jace’s hand for dear life, Aegon’s scent nearly driving you mad.

At the other end of the table, Aemond’s eye continuously finds you, raking over your face, the way the bodice of your dress enhances your cleavage oh so perfectly, the way your eyes seem to sparkle in the torchlight. He glances at Aegon, who is already attempting to speak to you, it would seem.

“You know how the act is done in principle?” Aegon questions his nephew, making you turn to him with confusion, “Where to put your cock and all that?”

Hearing Aegon say that word in his deep voice alone sends a shiver up and down your spine. You cross and uncross your legs, desperate for some form of relief from the fire that licks at your belly, slick nearly spilling down your thighs. And Aegon knows it. He holds his fork a bit too tightly as he stares at you, his tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Gods, you wonder what that tongue would feel like-

Jace seems to notice your apparent discomfort and rests a hand on your leg, making you let out a quiet little whimper. He turns to you, surprised, before seeing the way your cheeks seem flushed, your pupils dilated, a thin sheen of sweat coating your face.

“Sister, are you-”

“I need to go,” you manage to whisper, “Jace, I need to get out of here right now.”

He nods, taking you by the hand and pulling you away from the dining table, feeling your hand shaking in his as he does. As you walk by Aemond, your gaze locks with his for the briefest of moments, his eye flashing with some emotion unknown to you. But it makes your heart beat even faster, impossibly so. Jace gently pulls you away, ushering you to your chambers, saying he’ll send a septa to tend to you.

Your dress feels much too constricting for your body and you quickly remove it, clawing at your throat, unsure of what this feeling burning inside of you is. You’ve been in heat before, but it’s never been anything like this. This is almost agonizing, like your entire being is on fire and you can’t think of anything to quench it except…

No, you’re promised to Jace. He may be a beta, but he’s your brother and a good man. You think about calling him back for a moment, walking over to the door and opening it, where you see Aegon and Aemond standing, laying in wait like hungry wolves who’ve just found a wounded animal.

“Niece,” Aegon coos, taking your face in his hands, “Are you alright? You look positively flushed, you poor little thing.”

You gaze up into his lilac eyes, his presence and Aemond’s being almost too much for you to bear in this state. You lean into his touch without realizing it until you see him smirking down at you. Like you’ve just played into his hands. He and Aemond step into your room, ever the concerned uncles, urging you to sit at the foot of your bed.

“Now as we understand it,” Aegon hums, “You are meant to marry Jace, is that right, little omega?”

You nod, pressing your thighs together, laying your hands in your lap, “Yes, that’s correct.”

“So formal with us, sweet girl?” Aegon’s voice taunts you as he pulls up a chair, sitting just before you, “And we used to be so close.”

“Things are different now-”

“Are they?” Aemond speaks, his tone of voice surprising you; he isn’t the cool, collected Aemond you’ve always thought him to be, rather he sounds angered, “Things are not so different for me, little omega. I want you now just as I have always wanted you.”

A shiver goes up and down your spine as he crosses the room in two long steps, taking a seat beside you on the bed. You keep your gaze firmly on the ground until Aemond takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently turning you to face him. He moves his thumb to run over your lower lip, making you let out a quiet gasp.

“You want me too,” Aemond murmurs, “I can feel it. You’re in heat, little omega. You’re suffering. Allow me to ease your burden.”

“How?” you whisper, gazing at him, “Aemond?”

“Let me claim you,” he leans in to brush his lips over your neck, “Let me show you what it is that you truly need…”

You whimper against his touch, barely managing to ask, “What about Aegon?”

“Aegon is claimed,” Aemond gives Aegon a sharp glare, “Beta or not, Helaena is his mate. You, however, are not yet mated to Jace. And I have waited all these years to have you in my arms again. I won’t let you go this time, my little omega. I can’t.”

And his lips come crashing down onto yours, pulling you into his embrace as though he has no desire to ever let go of you. Your hands move to tangle in his long hair, moaning against his mouth, the heat in your stomach somewhat abating if only for the moment. Aemond’s lips feel so perfect against yours, so soft and yet he kisses you so fiercely, so passionately, that it feels as though he takes the very breath from your lungs.

“She’s in heat, little brother,” the two of you hear Aegon speak up, “Give her your knot. It’s the only thing that will ease her pain, isn’t it?”

Aemond turns to look at you, barely holding himself back, waiting for you to give your approval. You give him a small nod, pulling him back to you, taking the initiative and kissing him again.

“Need you, Aemond,” you breathe, “Need you, alpha.”

And that’s all the encouragement he needs. Aegon smirks as he watches the two of you, a mess of tangled limbs, as Aemond manages to move himself away for a moment, only to rid himself of his clothes. You remain in your shift, a flimsy thing that barely covers any of your form from him and he easily manages to rip in half, his oncoming rut giving him the strength to do so.

Aemond’s eye greedily takes in every inch of your bare flesh, looking you over as if you’re the most beautiful thing he’s seen in his entire life. And in his mind? You are. You lay on the bed, fully bare to him as he stands, fully bare to you. Aegon speaks up, attempting to give his younger brother instructions on what to do with you. Aemond turns back and glares at him.

“Would you shut your mouth and just sit there quietly? Otherwise, you can forget being allowed to watch.”

Aemond’s words send a rush of excitement through you as he moves to lay down on top of you, kissing your lips before moving to your neck, his teeth grazing over your mating gland, and for a moment, you think he’s going to bite you there. But he doesn’t, kissing a trail down to your breasts, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue languidly moving across the pebbled peak, making you let out a low moan of his name. Aegon watches the two of you with interest as he continues stroking his cock, watching your face twist in pleasure.

Aemond moves two of his fingers to your lips, pushing them inside your mouth, “Suck,” he murmurs against your skin, “I need to get your tight little cunt ready for me.”

You eagerly do as he asks, taking his fingers in your mouth, your tongue swirling across the digits, coating them with your spit. Aemond nods, pulling his hand away, moving his fingers to graze over your sensitive cunt, already wet with your slick.

“She’s already so wet for me, brother,” Aemond smirks, not taking his eye off of you, “I hardly think I’ll even need to prepare her. It’s like she’s been waiting to be stuffed full of my knot, isn’t that right, little omega?”

Aegon tugs at his cock, watching the two of you as Aemond slowly sheathes himself inside you. The quiet mewl you let out as you feel him slip inside you is almost enough to set both alphas over the edge. Aemond was right, with how wet you were, you easily took his cock into you. Aemond presses a kiss to your forehead, his hands moving to hold yours, an intimate gesture, making your eyes flutter shut as he begins thrusting into you, the head of his cock deep inside your cunt, brushing against your sweet spot with every move. You can barely even think, no coherent thought in your mind save for his name.

Aemond, alpha. Aemond, your alpha.

You gently move one of your hands from his, earning a concerned frown from the man, which you quickly assuage by removing his eyepatch, placing it on your bedside table.

“You needn’t hide yourself from me, my alpha, I think you’re beautiful…”

Aemond lets out a low grown at your words, pressing his lips against yours yet again, holding your hands as he ruts against you with abandon, bringing you closer and closer to your peak. You hear the sounds of Aegon’s low moans as he watches the two of you, Aemond’s cock disappearing inside you over and over, listening to the little mewls you let out.

“Going to fill you up, little one, watch you grow round with my pups. Have everyone know that you belong to me,” he hisses into your ear, squeezing your hands gently as he continues fucking you, “Do you want that, little omega?”

“Yes,” you sob out, your legs wrapping around him, “I want to be filled by you over and over, Aemond. I need you.”

“Going to breed you, little omega,” Aemond says through gritted teeth, his eye focused intently on your face, screwed up in pleasure, “Going to fill you with my seed, knot you over and over again…”

You reach your peak just before Aemond does, squeezing around his cock impossibly tight as you do, triggering his own release, his knot growing inside you, holding you to him, your bodies entwined, his seed sure to quicken in your womb.

Aemond stares at you for a long moment, his hand cupping your cheek as he peppers kisses all over your face, saying how perfect you were, asking if you’re alright. You nod before speaking softly.

“Will you claim me now?”

“Do you wish me to?” Aemond questions, his lips moving toward your scenting gland, “Once I do this, little omega, I cannot take it back.”

“Yes, Aemond,” you nod, presenting your neck to him, “I’m sure.”

He smiles and bites down on your neck, effectively sealing the bond between the two of you. It’s an emotional experience, the two of you feeling a new level of connection with each other as he moves to rest his forehead against yours.

“We will marry within the fortnight,” Aemond declares, kissing you tenderly, “Is that acceptable to you?”

“I’ll be a witness to the bedding-”

“Shut up, Aegon!” the two of you yell at him in unison, looking at each other and giggling.

Yes, Aemond thinks to himself, you were right.

Things are different now.

But only because now, you belong to each other.

[aegontaargaryens]

My husband and I developed a theory so please play along and tell me where you are in birth order (oldest, middle, youngest, only) and if you think having siblings is overall a positive or negative thing.

[aegontaargaryens]

Cousin!

[aegontaargaryens]

Matt Smith in House of the Dragon (1.10) as Daemon Targaryen

[aegontaargaryens]

It was in that moment…Aegon knew he fucked up.

[aegontaargaryens]

"It's A Match" - Intro (HotD Characters x Reader), Tinder AU

A/N: love interests will be added per request hehe. so far, there is aegon, aemond, jace, cregan, and daemon! ❤️

Summary: Your best friend convinces you to redownload Tinder after a breakup.

TW: afab reader, she/her pronouns, profanity, innuendo, mentions of a breakup, mentions of alcohol consumption

Word Count: 1,735 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Your best friend Maris told you that the first step to getting over any breakup is to get under someone else. So, like any good best friend, she grabs your phone, while you’re busy scarfing down all the ice cream there is in your fridge, and begins setting up your profile. You give her an annoyed look but answer all the questions she wants, sighing to yourself as you turn your attention back to “The Notebook” playing on your TV. 

“I hate this movie,” you mutter, “They both die. So stupid.”

Maris rolls her eyes and tosses your phone at you, “Come on, let’s see what kind of prospects you have on this thing. Get swiping, baby girl.”

You open your phone and begin swiping through. The first profile that catches your eye is one that, very clearly, belongs to a fuck boy.

His fucking snap is the first thing on his profile. What kind of self-respecting twenty six year old has their snap on their Tinder bio?

You almost swipe left, but then you read the last part of his bio. It makes you giggle, at least, so you swipe right and continue looking through the sea of eligible bachelors in King’s Landing. Maris pours both of you a glass of whine and the Tinder search continues.

Apparently it takes all kinds to make the world go round, as evidenced by Criston, a bodyguard, asking for “no thots”.

Seven fucking hells, some of these guys are such assholes. 

Also, not to mention the actual child who has somehow managed to create an account for himself.

Genuinely, you do not understand how a fourteen year old got on this app. He should be at home working on his algebra homework or something, not cruising the internet for a hookup. It’s mildly disturbing.

Then, you get a nice one.

The guy has a shirtless picture up which is kind of douchey, sure, but he seems sweet, judging by his bio. Plus he’s gorgeous and he went to Dragonstone U, which means he has to have at least some brains. You swipe right on him pretty quickly, continuing on with your task.

You and Maris get a bit tipsy and end up falling asleep on the sofa, still swiping through the cesspool that is Tinder.

When you wake up, you get the notification that you have several matches. You feel pretty excited, if not slightly hungover, and begin scrolling through the names. Some of these are guys you remember seeing last night and really liking. So, you start off with the NHL player, Cregan.

You: hi :)

You follow it up with a gif of Obi Wan saying “hello there”.

Cregan appears to be online and immediately shoots you a message.

Cregan: Hi :) Wow, I was really hoping we would match, this is awesome. And you’re a Star Wars fan???!!! I feel so lucky!!!

His enthusiasm and excitement makes you grin to yourself as you begin texting him a bit more.

You: which star wars character would you compare yourself to out of curiosity?

Cregan: Awww man, good question! I’d have to say Luke. I don’t think I’m as cool as Han or Obi, but I’m also not annoying like Ani lol. Who would you compare yourself to?

You: hmm… i wish i was a leia… but i’d say i’m definitely padme coded

Cregan: Well, I had a MASSIVE crush on Padme, so that absolutely tracks :) 

Oh my gods, this guy is so fucking sweet? And apparently he’s an NHL player? You cannot fucking deal with this right now. You chat with him for a little while longer before he says he has to hit the gym, but he’d love to talk to you more once he’s done working out.

You scroll through the rest of your new matches before seeing that the kid from the other day has popped up again, and has apparently used his Tinder Platinum subscription to message you before matching. You have to hold back a laugh, but also a slight gag, while reading the message before quickly blocking him, not wanting to converse with an actual child.

Luke: I’m cold. Can I use your thighs as earmuffs?

Of course you black out the name and send it to Maris, telling her what the fuck just happened, the two of you sharing a good laugh about the whole thing.

The next message you see is from one of the guys you swiped on last night, the model. You smile as you see that he, too, has super liked you. The thought of it makes you smile as you open his message.

Jace: Okay, first of all, HI! Second of all, you are so gorgeous OMG :D 

You: why thank you, coming from a model that’s high praise lol

Jace: Part time model actually!! My mom is actually the queen so she’s grooming me to take over :D 

Your eyes go wide. What the actual fuck, did you just match with Jacaerys fucking Velaryon?! You google his photos and your jaw drops in surprise. It’s him. The prince. On Tinder nonetheless. You’ve never really been into gossip about the royal family, so you don’t know too much about them, but this is kind of trippy.

You: uh isn’t it like a national security risk for you to be on a dating app?

Jace: Mayyyyybe. But it’s the reason I’m talking to you rn so it’s worth it :D 

Okay, this guy? Fucking adorable. You continue chatting with him as well for a little while before he tells you he has to attend a state dinner with his mom, stepdad, and apparently, Joe Biden. That throws you for a bit of a loop.

You: cool, uh, tell joe i said hi i guess?

Jace: Maybe next time you can come with me :D TTYL!

Okay… Holy fuck.

Anyway.

You move on to the next match, feeling pretty pleased with yourself and it’s barely nine in the morning. You don’t have work today, so you’re pretty content to catch up on your shows and flirt with handsome online strangers.

You decide to chat with the fuckboy, Aegon, from yesterday, seeing his message waiting for a response.

Aegon: What are you doing tonight besides me?

You: do you begin all your conversations this way?

Aegon: On this app, I’m gonna go for the honesty route and say yeah, as a matter of fact, I do

Aegon: I think you like it tho

You: meh

Aegon: Aw, come on, Princess, don’t treat me so cold. I could show you the time of your life

You: you’ve definitely got a lot of confidence. I have to give you that i guess

Aegon: C’mon, gorgeous, I know that’s not all you wanna give me 😏

You: okay, gn

Aegon: Awww, come on!!!!! Come back, it was a joke, Princess!

You: gn :) 

Aegon: It’s 9:12AM, I know you’re not going to sleep, baby

You: maybe i like napping

Aegon: Come over to my place and we can nap… Like non sexually

Aegon: I’m a neglected child, my therapist says I require love and affection

You can’t help but burst into laughter at this fucking guy. In his own way, he’s kind of… Adorable?

You: i can’t today, but maybe we can meet up for drinks or something this weekend

Aegon: Aha! I knew you were into me

You: seven fucking hells bro you’re gonna make me regret asking

Aegon: You on snap?

You: yeah, but are you gonna send me a dick pic if i add you?

Aegon: Ha ha. I’m not THAT annoying

You give him your snap username and immediately receive a picture of him.

You: you surf?

Aegon: I do, I do. Maybe you can hop on my board sometime…

You: GN LMAOOOOOOO

You: nah that’s really cool tho, i’ve always wanted to surf :)

Aegon: Well, how about… Instead of drinks… You and I hit Blackwater Beach this weekend and catch some waves? I can teach you :) 

You: you know what? that sounds awesome actually!

Aegon: It’s a date, Princess

You bite your lip, holding back a smile as he asks you to send him a selfie on Snap, well, practically fucking begs you. And when you do, the plethora of emojis you receive are a major confidence boost.

You move on to talk to one more match before closing your phone and actually trying to be productive. You remember giggling about this guy and his totally douchey bio with Maris.

Why do you even have Tinder if you’re going to be such an asshole?

You decide to send the first message, curious to see if he’s really such a massive asshole.

You: good morning! any fun plans for the weekend? :) 

He responds after a solid ten seconds, surprising you.

Aemond: Why? You planning on stalking me?

You: yeah, how’d you know? I’m in my joe goldberg era. I’ll be wherever you are with my lil baseball cap and sunglasses

Aemond doesn’t reply for a few minutes, but when he does, it makes you smile.

Aemond: Sorry, it took me a minute to stop laughing.

Aemond: So, what are you doing on Tinder, if I may ask? Are you looking for something casual or serious?

You: in all honesty? I don’t really know yet. I just went through a breakup from a long-term relationship and i’m probably not looking to jump into anything serious right away, but if the vibe is there, i wouldn’t be opposed to it

Aemond: I appreciate your honesty. I’m in a bit of a similar situation.

You decide to be a bit cheeky and send him a gif.

Aemond: You’re… Surprisingly funny. Would you maybe like to meet up for coffee sometime?

You: yeah, sounds fun :)

You: you’re a grad student right? what field?

Aemond: I graduated with a BA in history and philosophy and I’m currently pursuing an MA in both.

You: damn… going places i see

Aemond: The only place I want to be going is away from my fucking family

You: ha! we’ve all been there, bud

And after a bit longer of chatting and setting a date to get coffee, you sign off.

Two dates, four conversations. Your first week post-breakup is going pretty fucking well!

Then, your phone goes off one more time.

You tap on the new match to see who it is.

Holy fucking shit.

[aegontaargaryens]

i am literally begging hbo for a crumb on cregan stark like begging