#King Quilt Covers

[thenarrativefoil]

i found the exact same silk quilt i currently have, but it's less worn AND red and IT WAS ONLY $80 im head over heels holy fuck i've been looking for a new one going on three years now.

[tranceindia123]

Know about mattress restoration that identify the sublime cues

A restful night's sleep is the foundation of a life well lived. But what happens if your mattress, which was previously a reliable source of sleep every night, is no longer living up to your expectations? As lovers of fine bed linens made with meticulous attention to detail, we at Trance Home Linen think a restful night's sleep is an investment in overall well-being. It's only sometimes obvious when a mattress needs to be upgraded, though. Does your mattress make a lot of noise? These noise disruptions can cause more than simply annoyance; they may indicate structural damage to the mattress and interfere with your sleep pattern. Has the core of your once-supportive mattress grown an unsightly valley? This dip could cause aches and pains and compromise normal spinal alignment. Allergies may be made worse by dust mites, which are minute organisms that live in mattresses.

[hungariangoosedown365]

HunGoose is a Hungarian company which produces the highest quality goose down comforters and pillows found anywhere in the world. Our products are legendary the finest Hungarian goose down comforters and pillows that money can buy. They are products that will give you many years of warmth, comfort, and luxury. Our company has 300 years of experience manufacturing goose down pillows and bedding. So the products you are about to enjoy are made with trusted expertise, generously filled, hand-harvested Hungarian white goose down, as well as textiles crafted in Germany from fine Egyptian cotton. 

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[thelinenhall]

Double Sided Duvet Cover with 2 Pillowcases | bedding set | bed linen | king Queen Twin full

European Flax grown in France and stonewashed to give you that Soft & Sleep in feel. Our 200GSM, OEKO-TEX linen fabric in is extra special. This bedding would not pill, gets softer over time and is environment friendly. Basically it is Perfect in almost every way and we can't wait for you to improve the quality of your sleep with our signature French linen. We truly advocate our beautiful French linen that will have you waking up-happy, ready to enjoy your other life enriching pursuits as you go about your day.

Why European Flax? 1. The Fabric is anti-bacterial, Cool in summer and cozy in winter your new linen bedding will keep you comfy year-round. 2. Plus, It uses less water to cultivate and is one of the most sustainable fibers on the planet. 3. Deliciously soft and supple, It is an experience that our customers have described as " life-changing" and we trend to agree with them.

Put simply, We do linen, better.

Sizing Chart(DUVET COVER) USA TWIN 68x90" USA TWIN XL 68x95" USA DOUBLE/FULL 76x90" USA KING 90x104" USA QUEEN 90x90" USA CALIFORNIA KING 96x108"

AUSTRALIA SINGLE 140x210cm AUSTRALIA DOUBLE 180x210cm AUSTRALIA KING 240x210cm AUSTRALIA QUEEN 210x210cm

UK SINGLE 135x200cm UK DOUBLE 200x200cm UK KING 225x220cm UK SUPERKING 260x220cm

EUROPIAN SINGLE 150x200cm EUROPIAN DOUBLE 200x200cm EUROPIAN KING 240x220cm EUROPIAN SUPERKING 260x220cm

(Pillowcases) USA KING 26x26" USA KING XL 26x26" USA QUEEN 26x26" USA STANDARD 20x26" USA EURO 26x26"

EUROPIAN 50x70cm EUROPIAN 50x80cm EUROPIAN 65x65cm EUROPIAN 40x80cm EUROPIAN 80x80cm

AUS KING 50x90cm AUS QUEEN 50x80cm AUS EURO 65x65cm

[fairmaiden8]

The Proper Sizing of Your Quilt Cover Matters More Than You Think - Here's Why

Introducing the King Size Quilt Cover, a staple in many homes across Australia. But did you know that the sizing matters more than just having enough space for your body? In this blog post, we will explore why choosing the right quilt cover size is crucial to getting a good night’s sleep and how it can affect your overall well-being. Is a Doona the Same as a Quilt? While doonas are often referred…

[sophie-looks-at-stuff]

The Dragon and the Dragon-less

Pairing: Aemond x Strong niece reader

Summary: The night Aemond had lost his eye, his sweet niece was the only one to provide him any sense of comfort. Many years later, when she returns to Kings Landing with her family, what should become of the two? ;)

Warnings: bad ship terminology (idk boats y'all sorry), Rhaenyra being kind of a bad mom (love her tho), Targcest/incest, softer Aemond, smut in the dragon pits, this one is kind of long haha

AN: Hey y'all! Since my first fic seemed to be received so well (thanks so much to everyone for that:) I decided to write another one! I'm staying on the Aemond train since I've never left it since day one haha. Let me know tho if there are any requests!

PS: I haven't gone through and totally edited this so don't mind the spelling or grammar issues if there are any!!

It had been awful, you remembered hearing the screaming and shouting from your chambers. The screeching having woken you up from a rather pleasant dream about eating cake–

In nothing but your night clothes, and a quilt draped around your shoulders, you padded down the chilly hallways of Dragonstone. 

“ – it was my sons who were attacked!” You hear your mother yell. Concerned you took a few more steps forward, finally able to make out the scene before you. Your mother and your brothers to one side, while Alicent and her boys on the other, the fire raging in the hearth between them. 

Your wide lilac eyes meet those of your stepfather, Prince Daemon, he reaches a hand out towards you as if to say “Come here”. Your feet did not move, rooted to the spot, eyes glancing around the room once more. You see something you hadn’t noticed before, Aemond, in the corner of the room, surrounded by maesters. A hand over his eye, thick, sticky fluid oozing from between his small fingers. Gasping, your own hands fly to cover your lips, perhaps to muffle the noise, or maybe to tame the scream building in your throat. Aemond’s healthy eye meets yours, pain, sadness but most of all fury over taking his features. 

Just then your mother turns to meet you, her gaze worried and frantic, “My sweet girl! You should return to your chambers this is no sight for you dearest,” her hand, also bloody you notice, rests above her heart.

“Mother, w-what has happened? Aemond, h-he, is he alright–” You begin to question, Daemon takes a step towards you and you take one forward into the room. Your concerned gaze flits over to Aemond once more. Despite the fire in the hearth, the chill of the room has set into your bones, causing you to pull the quilt tighter around your shoulders. 

“Come now byka zaldrīzes (little dragon) let us return you to your quarters. Aemond will be fine,” Your father attempts to comfort you. Maybe you are too tired to argue, or too shocked, your mind still attempting to comprehend what has happened. But you let your father guide you back to your chambers, the quilt trailing behind you like a cloak. 

With a lullaby and a pat on the head, Daemon bids you good night once more. Closing the door softly behind him, his heavy footsteps receding off into the distance, presumably back to your mother and brothers. It feels like hours as you stare at the ceiling, listening, straining your ears for even just a morsel of information. But the halls beyond your door remain as silent as the grave. The chill in your bones is stubborn, making you shiver. Sitting up and swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you wrap the quilt around your shoulders once again. As silently as possible, you open the door, the hall is empty save for the torches lining the walls. You’re bathed in the fiery orange glow as you step fully into the hall. 

You’re not quite sure where your feet carry you until you turn the corner and are met with Ser Criston Cole. His tall stature taking up the door frame of the young prince's room, his gold cloak behind him like an inverse shadow. It’s not until you come to stand in front of him that he addresses you. 

“Princess, you should not be here. You should return to your chambers,” He looks down his nose at you. Your knuckles turn white from the tight grip you have on the quilt.

“Please, Ser, I must see the Prince. What has happened to him? I must know if he is alright–” 

“Your brothers have maimed him. Who’s to say you aren’t here to do the same? Perhaps your whore of a –” The door behind him creaks a bit, one of the maesters appears in its place. Bloodied rags and a needle are held in his hands. He sighs “The prince says she may pass Ser Cole,”

With one last look of annoyance and a warning mumbled under his breath, the knight lets you pass. The room is dark, lit only by a few candles on the bedside table. Aemond’s hunched form lays on the bed, the blankets up to his chin. As you make your way closer you can see the true horror of what has happened this evening. Where his eye once was, now lays only marred flesh, red and angry, the stitches pull at the swollen skin. You gasp, shocked, a sick feeling settling into the pit of your stomach.

“Ugly isn’t it?” Aemond asks you, bitterness lacing his voice. As he speaks you make your way to his side, sitting lightly on the bed, next to his hip. Your small hand searching for his under the covers, to comfort him, or maybe to warm your own. 

“H-how did this happen? Who could possibly have–”

“Your brothers. Lucerys stole my eye. But an eye for a dragon is a fair price to pay is it not niece?” A proud, sad smile graces his features. While your brothers had dragons since they were but babes, you were not as lucky. Syrax had not laid a full nest, and your mother had decided it was best to give your brothers the two eggs. All the while you have remained dragonless. 

“Vhagar is now mine, and on the morrow, we shall leave this wretched place. And I will fly on dragon back to the Red Keep.” His singular lilac eye meets yours. “I promise you, sweet niece, one day I shall take you for a ride on dragon back. Show you the freedom that comes with it,” His previously bloodied fingers intertwined with yours. 

“I would like that very much uncle,” Looking down at your joined hands, a small smile of your own matching his. 

— — — — — — —

The waters of the sea lap against the side of the ship, the slap against the wood echoing around you. Overpowered only by the screeching of your family's dragons above you. Alone, you ride on this ship, well alone save for the ship hands and captain assigned by your father. Still, at the age of nine and ten, you remain dragonless, made to travel to the Red Keep by boat.

Your brothers claim to Driftmark had come into question, prompting the visit back to your old home. You hadn’t been back here since–

Your mother and father had determined it best to keep the family at Dragonstone after Aemond lost his eye. Although you had always suspected part of the reasoning for that was your mothers fear of retribution from Alicent for what your brother had done. Perhaps it was a long time coming though, your brothers as well as Aegon had picked on Aemond ruthlessly for years prior to that night. You had been spared only by the simple facts that you were a little girl, and just weren’t in there presence as much. Despite your pleas to join in the yard for training you had been denied, and turned towards the library instead to study “things more befit for your station” as your mother had put it.

“We shall dock shortly Princess,” the ship captain’s voice drifted to you from behind the wheel. You stood on the platform with him, looking beyond the masthead, you see Syrax and Caraxes land in the dragon pits. You sigh, it looks like you’ll arrive alone at the Red Keep, not expecting your mother to wait for you. Her and Daemon needed to prepare for the events of tomorrow. 

Arriving at the Keep felt haunting, the lack of a welcome only contributing to that fact. Once docked, you were met by a singular carriage and it’s driver. The captain had assured you that your belongings were to be delivered to your chambers shortly. For all your fathers faults he did have good trust and faith in those he employed. The ship’s captain had been with your families since you were a girl. He and yourself not unfamiliar with these lonesome journeys. 

The gates of the Red Keep came into view as you rolled over the bumpy roads of Kings Landing. Gold Cloaks lined the gate’s walls, closing the massive gate doors behind you, shutting you in, locking you within the castle grounds. The carriage comes to a jumpy halt, the driver offering you his hand as you disembark your ride. Your fingers slip into his as your boots squelch in the mud below you, the clanging of swords and metal meet your ears. 

“Nephews, have you come to train?” A voice says, one you could not recognize. From across the yard you see your brothers, you wave to them, hoping to catch their eye. Luke turns his head towards you, a small smile playing at his lips. Noticing this, the source of the voice follows his gaze, a singular lilac eye meeting yours.

“Niece, how you have grown–” Aemond’s lone eye takes in your figure. My how you’ve grown indeed. Last time he had seen you you barely came up to his chin, your silver locks a messs contained in small braids. The flush that never seemed to leave your cheeks remained however. You had grown taller, still standing shorter than himself, which he finds excites him a bit. More than it should perhaps. You had grown into yourself in a way that was very pleasing to his eye, your face fuller and lovely. Your curves soft and plush, inviting him to touch and caress them. 

“Uncle,” you offer him a small curtsey. You can hear Jace scoff, as if annoyed by the action. Wanting yo say more, but not knowing what, you continue to look at one another. Your own eyes take in your uncle, he had grown taller, much taller. His muscles lean and corded beneath his tunic. His silver hair almost as long as yours, is pulled back slightly in a braid. Some hanging free, escaping their confines during his sparring. His eye was now covered in an eyepatch, made of black leather, the tops and bottoms of the scar still visible even with it on. 

The arrival of another carriage turns your gaze to the left, where you yourself had arrived only moments ago. Vaemond Valaryon steps out of the carriage and into the yard, sparing a glance at the Prince and your brothers. A look of disgust crosses his face as he lays his eyes on Luke. 

— — — — — — —

The meeting to question Lucerys’ claim to Driftmark is long and dull, at least in the beginning. Mustering his limited remaining strength your grandsire had sat the thrown. Disputing Otto and Alicent in their claims. He looks horrible you think. His skin looks to be gray and sloughing off of his bones. The Stranger would be coming for him soon. It is not until Vaemond brings into question your brother’s parentage once again, that the apprehensive peace shatters. 

“And she is a–”

“Say it,” your father’s hand that rests on the hilt of Dark Sister tightens, knuckles whitening. 

“ – a WHORE!” In one swift blow, Daemon sends Vaemond’s head rolling across the floor of the throne room. Blood trailed behind the appendage like a snail’s trail. The room is filled with gasps and short screams. Your own eyes widened looking at the head on the stone floor before you. By no means are you unfamiliar with your father's violent nature, and nor should the rest of the court. 

“Let him keep his tongue,” Daemon wipes the blood off of his blade, stepping back, sheathing the sword once more. 

As if some kind of magic pulls you, you lift your eyes from Vaemonds severed head and meet those of your uncle. A smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, he looks to be well entertained by the violent display. Caught in your staring, Aemond’s gaze rises to meet your own, his smirk widening into a more sadistic smile. 

“Now, for the final order of business. A more pleasant way to end this affair,” the king says, his mellow voice carrying across the stone-lined room. “I am blessed by the Gods to have such a large family, but it appears that the Gods hope to bless us some more,” It was becoming increasingly more clear that Alicent’s love for The Seven has bled not just into the castle but its people as well.  You think maybe it gives the king something comforting in his final days. 

“My son, Aemond, a fine warrior and scholar,” Aemond stands rigid and straight, uncomfortable with the new attention from his father. “And my granddaughter, if your mother had not already claimed the title of Realms Delight then it would be most certainly passed to you.” Your cheeks flush a bright pink, warmth rising to the tips of your ears. 

“This family has been divided for quite some time, I tend to rectify that. Aemond, my son, and my granddaughter the princess, shall be married,” The reactions around the room are mixed, some people applaud, some cover their shock with their hands. Wide, prying eyes jump between you and Aemond. You dare a look in his direction, he is still staring, the smile gone from his face now. Confusion, shock, anger? You cannot tell but it is not sweet, and it is not kind.

A wave of confidence washes over you as you step forward, “What is the meaning of this? Why have I not had any indication of this until now?!” You feel your mother’s hand grasp your elbow, urging you to stand beside her, silently. “It is the wish of your grandsire, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon). He is dying, do not fight him,” Your head whips aside, meeting her eyes, eyes filled with sadness. Did she know of this? Did she approve of this? Your father would not meet your eyes, nor your brothers, Jace toeing at an invisible stone on the floor. Did they all know, except for you? 

You tear your elbow from your mother’s grasp, she opens her mouth to speak once more, but your back is already turned. Your feet lead you towards the grand door. You had to leave, you needed to be anywhere else but here. Your chest tightens, your breathing ragged. Not with sadness or grief, no, but with anger and fury. You feel as though you could breathe fire as the dragons do. An angered scream tears past your lips, reverberating off of the stone walls of the Red Keep. 

— — — — — — —

You had decided it best to skip the family feast. And a good thing too, unbeknownst to you it had gone horribly. Lucerys mocking Aemond over the roasted pig, Aemond's “final tribute” to his Strong nephews. No, instead you had taken your dinner in the library, back amongst your beloved books. The sun had set an hour or two ago now, the torches along the halls lit. You didn’t know how late it was, you had been much too absorbed in your novel Lady Coryanne Wylde, A Cautionary Tale for Young Girls. 

The wax on the candles had burned low, and your wine had turned cold. It was time to retire. Taking the book with you, you began to make your way toward your chambers, your old chambers. The last time you had slept there you had been but a girl. As you turn the corner you are met with a hard wall of warm, corded muscle. Your book tumbling to the ground. A pair of strong hands plant themselves on your shoulders, to steady you. 

“Careful niece, someone might think you are up to no good, wandering the corridors, at night–alone” The smile from earlier returns to his lips, and just then, he notices the book on the floor. His smile becoming impossibly wider, you don’t think you’ve ever really seen Aemond smile, not like this anyway. It’s nice, you think to yourself.

“What’s this dear niece,” he bends down to pick up the novel, his slim fingers sifting through the pages, his eyebrows lifting. “Well, well, who would have thought–”

“Give that back!” You reach to snatch it from him, like a child, but he just holds it higher over his head. “Tell you what, I made a promise to you. Do you remember?” Of course, you remembered, you still thought about it sometimes, but all hope of fulfilling it had left you.

“Yes–” it came out more hoarse than you had intended. Your hand frozen, outstretched, Aemond still held the book over his head. 

“Come with me to meet Vhagar, for a ride,” he leaned closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “Come taste the freedom of the skies with me niece.” He had tucked the book behind his back. Aemond wasn’t a man who typically waited for an answer, nor was he one who liked when people disagreed with him. He’d throw you over his shoulder if he must. Even though his hatred for your family ran deep, he could never seem to hate you. You had endeared yourself to him time and time again as children, but the night he lost his eye. The night you visited him, the only one not angry, the only one not repulsed by his face. He knew then that he could never hate you, no matter how hard he’d tried. 

Words had suddenly failed you, your tongue dry. You simply nodded instead. In response, Aemond straightened to his full, imposing height, and turning without a word, he began his stride down the hall, towards the dragon pits. You followed him, but neither of you spoke, the halls of the Red Keep filled with an odd sort of comfortable silence. His hair had grown longer, much longer, and he walked with a sense of confidence that hadn’t been there before. 

The night air was chill, a slight breeze blew through your hair, tousling the strands. You were glad you had worn a gown with longer sleeves, it must be chilly up in the clouds. Aemond was sporting his riding clothes, the leather over his tunic reaching his wrists. He looked good, really good, you thought to yourself. The flush from earlier returning to your cheeks, as well as the warmth in the tips of your ears. 

Aemond comes to a stop before the pits, waiting for you, the book still behind his back, taunting you. You suppose that was his insurance policy in case you had said no to joining him. You can only imagine your father's reaction to seeing you read such debauchery. You were his sweet little girl after all…

“Come now niece, no harm shall come to you while I am near,” He held his hand out to you, and you slipped your fingers between his. His hands are much smoother than the ship captains from earlier, you thought. His hand was warm, the blood of the dragon coursing through his veins. The sound of beating wings from up above drew you out of your daze. A dark shadow crossed over the pair of you, coming to land only several passes in front of you. Vhagar stood proud and strong, if not slightly tired. Her form was weathered by time and battle. It’s a blessing from the Gods that she can still take to the skies as she does. 

Aemond drew you nearer to her, your hand still held tightly in his, like all those years ago. “Give her a pat, she won’t bite, not unless I tell her to,” He chuckled a bit at his own joke, your eyes widening slightly, making him laugh all the more. “No need to be frightened, she’s quite gentle actually,” He guided your hand up to the beast's snout, his fingers had moved to circle your wrists, making the action easier. Your hand lay splayed out before you against Vhagar’s scales, her skin impossibly hot. The hand on your wrists moves to cover your own on the dragon. From behind you, Aemonds other hand rests on your waist lightly, like a whisper on the wind. Mayhaps this marriage won’t be too bad after all? Your anger from earlier was not directed at him you realize, but rather at the other members of your family. You were never pleased when things were kept from you when you were lied to. You like his hand there, you like it a lot, it provides you a sense of comfort and security as you stand before this large beast. You wonder how his calloused hands would feel elsewhere…

Aemond retracts his hand, yours following closely behind, you can still feel the heat of Vhagar’s scales on the skin of your palms. You begin to be tugged backward in the direction of Vhagar’s saddle. Aemond motions for you to begin climbing the ropes that lead to the mount, he follows behind you; prepared to catch you should the need arise. The saddle is less like a saddle and more like a small chariot on top of the dragon. It comfortably seats the two of you, and could even squeeze in a third. 

Aemond positions you in front of him, his legs caging yours, his arms reaching around the front of you to grasp onto the reigns. “Are you ready?” The question is whispered to you, his lips brushing your ear once more as he speaks. You rather like this position, the warmth radiating off of his body will surely keep you warm above the clouds. 

“Yes, yes I think I am,” Your own hands come up to rest atop his, surely just to steady yourself, and not at all because you were becoming increasingly more desperate to touch or be touched by the man behind you. 

“Sōvēs Vhagar!” Aemond pulls back and yells into the night air, sparring your delicate eardrums. The beast below you growls and jolts into action. She takes a few long strides before beginning to beat her wings, as she takes off into the crisp night air. 

Eyes glued shut you think you yell out a little yelp of initial fear and surprise. Aemond’s legs press tighter down on your own as if to reassure you that you are safe with him and his dragon. As Vhagar evens out her flying, coasting just above the clouds, you dare to open your eyes. Behind you, Aemond cannot stop the smile from spreading across his lips, he cannot see your face but he hopes it is a happy one. He’ll take you out flying every day that you are married if it will make you happy. He would burn the world down if it meant he could keep you safe and happy. To make you his. 

Truthfully he wasn’t all that surprised by his father’s announcement of your betrothal. As a boy, even before the incident, he had asked his mother and grandsire, Otto, what lords would court you, and if any would be good enough for a princess. It wasn’t until after he lost his eye that he first breached the subject of marriage to his mother. He’d told her he deserved it, that after all the pain he had gone through, it was only fair for him to spend his life beside someone whom he cared so deeply for. At the time his mother had just given him a kiss on the forehead saying “Perhaps one day, we shall see,” A sad smile had crossed her face then.

He’d given up on the hope of marrying for love after that. The ladies of court found him elusive and repulsive, opting to flirt with his brother, despite his marriage to Helaena. A few moons ago, Aegon had made a jest at Aemond’s expense, something about being tied to a Strong for all eternity. He had ignored it, deeming it nothing more than one of his brother's drunken comments. However, after the events of today, it seems he was not jesting after all.

Aemond is broken out of his thoughts by a lovely, bubbly sound. You’re laughing, your arms spread wide, fingers splayed out letting the wind rush through them. He immediately goes to grasp your waist, his legs still caged around yours, steading you, anchoring you to him and the saddle. 

“What the sweet Hells are you doing?! Put your hands back on the reigns!” He exclaims. You giggle some more, the wind drying your teeth as you smile. 

“I cannot uncle! You were right, this is marvelous! I feel as though I could rule the world from up here!” He had never seen anyone as dazzling as you were in this moment. Vhagar gave a slight jolt as she began to descend back downwards, causing you to jump forward a bit, hands grasping the reigns once more.

“I told you – “ He murmurs against your hair, placing a small kiss on your head. After another moment Aemond begins to guide Vhagar back towards the dragon pits. There’s a strain in his trousers he can ignore no longer. Years of pent-up desire and want boiling over. Ever the gentleman, he assists you in descending the beast. This time he goes first, his hand in yours as he helps you with the final jump down. 

“That was incredible, uncle that was truly –” Aemond uses his grip on your hand to tug you forward, clutching you to his chest, his lips meeting yours. You gasp into his mouth, surprised by the boldness of his actions. Before you are given the opportunity to reciprocate, he pulls away, a slight frown on his face.

“My apologies, I should not have–” 

“Yes, you should have actually. Why did you stop, I was quite enjoying myself,” You pull on the collar of his tunic, tugging his chapped lips back down to yours. Aemond uses his taller stature to guide you back up against a pillar within the pits. The two of you made only out of sight by half of a pillar, and Vhagar’s sleeping form. 

“And what if I were to take you, right here? Right now? Like a scene from your debaucherous novel,” He exclaims, his lips moving, forming a trail from your jaw down to your collarbone. Surely leaving marks, and love bites as he goes. Oh if only his brother could see him now, he thinks that perhaps Aegon would congratulate him on finally “getting it wet”. 

His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer to him. He was everywhere, all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. The smell of the oils used to wash his hair filled your nostrils, the smokiness from Vhagar had made a home in the threads of his clothes. You’re nearly positive that you must smell similar, you’ll need to get your gown cleaned certainly. 

Your hands began to fumble with the belt of his trousers, your fingers making clumsy work of the buckle. Aemond pulls away only for a moment to assist you, then he begins to work on the strings of your corset. His movements were desperate and quick, neither of you having the patience to wait much longer. All the while his lips never left your skin. You feel him smile against your skin as Vhagar makes a slight noise of annoyance at your escapades. Somehow between your messy kisses, your skirts had been rucked up to your hips, Aemond’s deft fingers making contact with your small clothes. 

“You’re rather wet dear niece. Do I rile you up so huh? I wonder how wet you’ll be with my cock inside your sweet cunt,” He says that last bit almost more so to himself rather than you. In response, a small whimper escapes your lips. Aemond looks up to meet your eyes. A certain twinkle reflects at you from his. 

“Another night I shall spend hours ravishing you, but I need to be inside you, now.” He gives his cock a few strokes, preparing himself. Your eyes widen at the sight, his shaft long and thick, his head red and leaking arousal. It was, invigorating, knowing that you could illicit such a response from him. With a delicate kiss to your lips and one final look of permission, Aemond sheathes himself inside you. Your warm walls squeeze him perfectly, welcoming him in. Gods he could stay right here like this forever. 

“ – move. Aemond Gods move please,” You begged him, your walls had adjusted to him. Feeling wonderful and full. He began slow, his thrusts taking on a rhythmic flow. Aemond tucks his face into the crook of your neck, smelling your hair, his grunts and groans in your ear. You drag your nails down his clothed back, perhaps next time you’ll be able to fully leave your marks on his skin. Thank the Gods Vhagar had decided to remain put, it would ruin your honor should anyone find you like this; even though your virtue was promised to him already.

“Fuck– I don’t know if I’ll be able to last much longer ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved). You are just too perfect–” He cuts himself off with a grunt.

“Finish then, let go Aemond, let got for me please, I–” You beg him, you need it just as much as he does.

“Not before you ñuha jorrāeliarzy (my beloved).” Aemond moves down to circle your clit, sending a shockwave of pleasure up your spine. The pace of his thrusts picked up, your hands remained looped around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.

“Aemond, oh Aemond, Gods I’m gonna–” The words that left your mouth made hardly any sense. The words and phrases twist and turn into a bizarre hymn to your betrothed. 

“Cum, cum for me Jorrāelagon (love), give yourself over to me–” Aemond begged you. His lips biting and nipping at the flesh of your neck. On his command, a wave of pleasure washes over you, like the seas crashing into the shores of Driftmark. You remember drifting off to sleep as a girl to the lullaby of the sea. Aemond’s own release follows closely after your own. Still nestled inside of you, he rests his forehead against yours, sighing contentedly. 

“You know, when I was a boy, I had asked my mother to ask Rhaenyra for your hand. I had begged her actually,” He chuckles a bit at his anecdote.

“Did you?” You laugh along with him, less at the story and more so at the ridiculousness of your current situation. You feel him nod, his forehead brushing against yours as he does so. 

“Well,” you say in response, “ I had always wanted a dragon of my own. I had begged my mother actually”, you imitate Aemond’s words, giggling a bit as you do, “but now I need not ask any longer. For I have my very own dragon right here.” You place a kiss on his nose as you say this.

“Well my love, no longer shall you be dragonless, not as long as I am around anyways,” Aemond reassures you. He supposed he had two dragons now as well, with Vhagar he would burn the world down, but you gave him a reason to do so. With fire and blood he would protect you, love you, for that is the way of the dragon, that is the way of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your beloved betrothed. 

Tag List:

@ helaenaluvr  @ anukulee

[hrsports1]

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[planetlinen1]

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[luxebedding]

Buy King size Quilt Covers Online to Ensure Your Quilt Last Longer

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[tranceindia123]

IDENTIFYING THE SUBLIME CUES A MATTRESS RESTORATION IS DUE

A restful night's sleep is the foundation of a life well lived. But what happens if your mattress, which was previously a reliable source of sleep every night, is no longer living up to your expectations? As lovers of fine bed linens made with meticulous attention to detail, we at Trance Home Linen think a restful night's sleep is an investment in overall well-being. It's only sometimes obvious when a mattress needs to be upgraded, though. Does your mattress make a lot of noise? These noise disruptions can cause more than simply annoyance; they may indicate structural damage to the mattress and interfere with your sleep pattern. Has the core of your once-supportive mattress grown an unsightly valley? This dip could cause aches and pains and compromise normal spinal alignment. Allergies may be made worse by dust mites, which are minute organisms that live in mattresses.

[starrystevie]

eddie isn't sure when steve becomes a synonym for safe. isn't sure how someone he actively avoided in crowded hallways morphs into a pair of eyes he seeks out when things are too much. isn't sure what it is about steve harrington that has him gravitating towards a once was king. it just suddenly is.

steve's a steady hand on his shoulder, a gentle nudge with the toe of his shoe to get him up and moving. he's a barely there smile reassuring him that things are okay, will be okay, could be okay if they keep trying to get to whatever okay could be.

steve's there for all of them, he always has been. he's the one that every single one of their ragtag bunch runs to in their own ways because steve's strong in his own way and can take away bits of their pain and fear and hide it behind his armor so it can't hurt them anymore.

but he's different for eddie. he's more quiet, more sturdy. what would be smiles for el and a crass joke for dustin and a carefully crafted hug for robin is soft silence for eddie. maybe it's because he's the tiniest bit younger than eddie, maybe it's because he's newer, maybe it's because he put eddie back together with strong hands and an even stronger will and saw the quivering underbelly that he hides away from everyone with wide grins and overwhelming flair.

everyone except steve, apparently.

whatever it is, eddie searches for it with every chance he can. he slides closer to steve when crowds get too loud looking between their feet to make sure he isn't too close but can still feel the heat radiating off of his bare arms. he looks up to see steve's eyes on him when eddie's gone quiet, throwing him a small smile and hoping it catches. he holds onto steve's quiet acceptance of a shitty mixtape in the car when eddie needs loud, needs angry, because he feels loud, feels angry.

but then it changes.

whatever they used to be isn't a factor anymore. whatever they used to be starts to bleed into steve's fingertips against bare skin, feeling his heartbeat through paper thin veins like he's trying to remind himself that eddie made it. that he himself made sure that eddie made it.

eddie does know when that change happens, though. knows when they go from never touching to always touching. knows when it changes from the steve and eddie that are two separate thoughts to the steveandeddie that can only ever be said within the same breath.

it's just that he was so tired and steve was sitting on his ratty little twin bed in his ratty big city apartment and steve was safe. steve meant safe. steve was the hands that held him together in a nightmare world and the air in his lungs when he couldn't breathe on his own.

so it all seemed to make sense for him to crawl onto the bed, rucking up the well worn quilt that he stole from wayne under his bony knees, and settle his head onto the legs that carried him out of the upside down into a world where steve was a security blanket in and of himself.

and as eddie stared up at the ceiling with his curls draped over steve's lap, he felt when it all clicked. felt the thighs he was laying on tense and then fall, felt the hand holding crumpled magazine pages come to rest gently on his chest, palm covering his racing heart. but most of all he felt when steve looked at him, gaze landing on his face and covering him like a balm over a burn.

he looked back, because eddie always looks when steve needs him, and quickly realized he was steve's safe, too. eddie might not be sure when steve becomes a synonym for safe, but that doesn't matter. not anymore. not when eddie can be that for him, too. not when he can learn what steve needs and when he needs it. he's a joke when steve's mind starts spiraling. he's the loud of a shitty mixtape to make him smile as he sings off key when they drive. he's a hand in his hair, pulling him in to rest against his chest when there's bats and russian doctors and max's broken body clouding his vision.

eddie still crawls into his lap when he feels that bone tiredness pulling at his limbs. steve still shoves his face into eddie's chest when he has to clear away the ghosts hiding in his eyes. they still let their fingertips brush over pulse points when they need little reminders. and when they need to be wrapped up by each other, held together with hands that are gentle and unspoken promises, eddie knows they'll both go with open arms.

because they make each other feel loved, make each other feel real, make each other feel safe.

[fairmaiden8]

King Size Quilt: Everything You Need to Know About the Ultimate Bedding Option

When it comes to bedding, there’s nothing quite like a king size quilt. With its generous dimensions and luxurious feel, this type of bedding is perfect for those who want to indulge in comfort and style at the same time. But what exactly makes a king size quilt so special? And how can you choose the right one for your needs? Let’s take a closer look. Introduction The first thing to know about…

[fetish4juggalos]

Bed time with Gotham villans

I haven’t posted anything recently and thought in light of 2023 coming to a start I’d post something for the new year even though we’re 6 months into it :3

I apologize in advance for both grammatical errors and spelling errors:)

Oswald Cobblepot

I can imagine oswald being a very wild sleeper. Like the kind that can go to sleep on the opposite side of the bed and end up with their leg over you with their arms wrapped around you

Probably has alot of night terrors specially about his mom and dad. Loud random screams in the middle of the night will be a common occurrence for you

Goes to sleep in a full pajama set with night cap and slippers:)

Blanket hog all the way, constantly kicking you in the back, cuddling into you, ect.

Though he's probably not the best to sleep with hes definitely got the nicest bed. Like im talking king sized with silk pillow cases, and sheets with a ridiculous thread count

I imagine him having some long ass night routine or some weird night ritual he follows before bed

He's the last to get into bed and the first to fall asleep

Likes a warm glass of milk (or a lukewarm glass of alcohol) before bed because he's old fashioned

Refuses to go to sleep without you and will wait till the early hours of the morning and late hours of night for you to come to bed

Edward Nygma (pre-riddler)

Ed unsurprisingly is very pleasant to sleep with

He’s not a very calm sleeper but he isn't like incredibly wild either. Maybe a arm or leg thrown over the edge of the bed but thats about it

Has the occasional night terrors but besides that is otherwise peaceful 

Sleeps in relatively normal sleep attire. Plain shirt with pajama pants mostly

Really basic white male night time routine. shower, brush teeth, wash face and head to bed

He has a decent sleep schedule with only the occasional sleep insomnia

Likes to spend a little time playing video games or solving puzzles before bed

Edward Nygma (post-riddler)

Sleeps a lot less then pre-riddler ed

When he does sleep it’s only for a few hours and tends to have nightmares in between periods of rest

He’s not one to initiate cuddling during bed time but he won’t stop you from cuddling up next him

Will at times sleep on the couch or wherever he ends up falling asleep. Mostly up to you to make sure he gets a healthy amount of rest

Over thinks greatly before bed and ends up circling the room on a tangent or whenever an idea strikes

Sometimes breaks into your apartment just to sleep next to you or will show up and pass out on your couch

Talks and mumbles in his sleep

Victor Zsasz

Victor rarely sleeps but will lay in bed just to be next to you for a few hours before his next job

Sleeps in mostly just boxers since he takes a shower directly before he goes to bed but on off days he’ll throw on a t-shirt and lay in bed with you

Calm sleeper surprisingly

It takes a specific type of man to be able to kill someone then come home and sleep peacefully

He’s a quiet sleeper which is also why he makes such a god assassin as noise suppression is a huge part of his job

You always fall asleep first and he likes to just stare at you for long periods of time

Half drunken water bottles and glasses on the night stand at all times

I feel like he would have some kind of lengthy skin care routine before bed

Likes cuddling especially if he’s the little spoon

Wakes up at ungodly early hours of the morning

Blanket hog but just to be annoying and so that way you’ll sleep closer to him

Only really sleeps if you’re sleeping with him as he doesn’t really sleep as much as most people and probably only rests his eyes for a few hours at a time

Jervis Tetch

Jervis is very affectionate when it comes to bed time. He loves cuddling, holding you, kissing you ect.

I imagine his bed is incredibly comfortable with many multi-colored and textured throws, quilts, and blankets covering the bed. Probably decorative pillows as well in many colors and shapes

Full pajama sleep attire. Button up sleep shirt, pants, slippers, and a night hat similar to Oswald

He likes reading to you or being read bedtime stories. His current favorite (aside from obviously alice in wonderland) is the wizard of Oz

A warm glass of milk or tea before bed is essential and he always makes some before bed

Jervis is a bit of a wild sleeper but for the most part stays in one spot on the bed only kneeing you a few times and stirring in his sleep

He runs warm so he doesn’t take up a whole lot of blanket but during the summer he ends up drenched in sweat blanket or not

Wild bed head since his curls are hard to tame at times

Stays up late so he falls asleep first since he’s always exhausted and sleep deprived

Wokenup in a cold sweat a few times from the occasional nightmares relating to his sister but all he needs is you to pull him back into reality

Talks to you until he falls asleep to help him get some energy out and clear his mind. He talks to you about anything and everything until he begins to drift off

Jerome Valeska

Jerome is an incredibly wild sleeper. So much so to the point where no matter what position or side of the bed he’s on he’ll end up on the opposite side in a completely different position

Throws the blanket off and on going from hogging it to throwing it on the floor

He runs hot so his sleep attire is mostly him without a shirt and a pair of tattered pajama pants or just boxers

He doesn’t really have a night time routine to speak of or a steady schedule

Normally it’s just whenever he’s tired and wherever he’s at that determine what his sleep is going to be like and how long it lasts

He’s a big cuddler at first but because he’s such a wild sleeper he’ll probably end up letting go of you and turning to the opposite side of the bed

He’ll wake up in a bad mood if he’s not sleeping with you next to him or in his arms in the morning tho even if it’s entirely his fault

He’s a brat so it takes forever to coax him into going to bed. Plus he’s stubborn so even when you get him into bed he’ll do everything in his power to annoy you or to not fall asleep

He talks a lot in his sleep normally it’s laughter or it’s him mumbling on about his mother and the trauma he received

He has nightmares but they don’t wake him up only increase his tossing and turning and sleep talk

I feel like he sleep walks at times when he’s not knocked completely out and I can image you’ve had to bring him back to bed a few times