#aegon x plus size reader

[prettyblondguys]

String Along part 1

Aegon x plus size reader, I've been listening to String Along by Ricky Nelson on repeat lol Part 2 here

Warnings: lots of talk of sex/sexual acts, minors DNI, mentions of masturbation, mentions of ejaculation, Aegon being a flirty slut. Proofreading is for cowards.

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You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't swell at the attention, at the way Prince Aegon's lips brushed against your ear, whispering sinful little remarks to you, about your body, about what he'd like to do to you, what he thinks about late at night. It caused a fire to burn bright inside you, one you'd always have to take care of yourself, alone in your chambers, imagining him above you, cropped blond locks framing his face as he did all of the carnal things he talked about. But that's all he does, day after day. Throwing just enough pecks and winks your way to keep you interested, to keep you at his heels, making him feel important and sought after, and taking his leave from you whenever he grew bored.

So when his hand found your lower back as you stood near some ladies of the court, and he leaned towards you, you'd had enough. Turning your head away from him, his words die on his lips before they even begin, eyes widening before a smirk spreads across his handsome face. He steps closer to you and takes hold of your waist, his breath hot against your neck.

"You look good enough to eat, my darling."

He thinks this is a game, the thought angers you, Well, let's play then, shall we? You let out an uninterested hum and pull away, excusing yourself from present company and walking towards the other side of the room, the gears in your head turning as you begin to form the rules of this game. You need not look behind you, you can feel his eyes burning holes into your back. The room is filled with lords and ladies, all gathered to celebrate Princess Helaena's Name Day, colorful gowns and tunics of the most expensive materials, flowing silks and delicate laces, and hairstyles that would've made you snicker as a child, back when you'd spend your days following after Aegon, trailing behind him like a lost puppy desperate for a shred of his attention. You suppose that's why he still toyed with you this way, knowing how quickly you melted from his affections. But you were not a child anymore, you desired more than cheek kisses, and you have grown tired of empty promises of pleasure, you wanted action. No, you needed it. Your fingers could no longer suffice.

"Why do you flee from me, pet?" His words send a shiver down your spine, strong hands taking hold of your plump hips, not caring if anyone sees him acting so brazenly, "You do not grow shy at my words, do you?" By the gods.

"No, My Prince," you manage to say in a calm, unbothered voice, still refusing to look back at him, "for that is all they are - words. Hollow and empty."

You lock eyes with Aemond, standing off by himself. You raise your hand in greeting, watching as his eye flickers from you to Aegon, the corner of his mouth turning up as you brush Aegon's hands off of you and walk towards his brother.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He whisper shouts after you, growing tired of your game. Too bad, he started it.

"Prince Aemond."

"Lady Y/n," you and he weren't exactly close, but growing up around the Red Keep as the child of a councilman, you had somewhat become friends, discussing history and languages with him when you weren't chasing after his older sibling. 

"My brother does not look pleased with you." And he doesn't, turning to throw glances at you as he ignores Helaena speaking enthusiastically about something.

"He will get over it." You say, causing Aemond to chuckle as you shrug.

"What has he done now? I apologize if he has said anything untoward, you know he overindulges with drink."

You smile at his concern, quickly dismissing it. "No, it's nothing. I just… I'm just…"

He watches you closely, noticing the way you keep looking towards Aegon, as if making sure he's still looking at you, and it all falls into place for him.

"Ah, I see," he says, suppressing a smile, "it is time for the pursued to do the pursuing." You nod, a blush rising to your cheeks from embarrassment, suddenly realizing how childish you were being. That is, until Aemond offers you his hand, a glint of mischief in his eye. He sees the confusion on your face and reaches for your hand, holding it gingerly in his, "I enjoy antagonizing my brother more than I detest dancing." He leads you to where others are dancing, and you take one last glance at Aegon, who's staring daggers at where your hands join, fists balled at his side. Good.

Aemond places his hand on your upper back as you awkwardly sway and turn, having to reach quite a bit because of your height difference to comfortably lay your hand on his shoulder.

"I am glad you aren't chasing after him anymore," he says, his back rigid and straight, visibly uncomfortable, "it is very unbecoming of a lady."

You snort, knowing your reasons for the sudden change were much more unbecoming. You both continue your strange dance, limbs at odd angles and feet shuffling ungracefully.

"Do you think it's working?" You ask, nonchalantly looking around, but not seeing your prince anywhere. Leaning down until his cheek rests against yours, he whispers, barely audible, "Yes."

"Hello brother," you jump at the voice suddenly beside you, dripping with poorly hidden anger, "might I steal her for a bit?" Aegon doesn't wait for an answer, grabbing your hand and drawing you away from an amused Aemond, placing his hand dangerously low on your back, pulling you flush against him.

"Are you having fun?" He purrs into your ear, guiding you across the floor in turns and twirls, surprisingly more skilled at this than his brother.

"Have I told you how delicious you look tonight? I haven't been able to keep my eyes off of you." I know.

"You might have mentioned it," you slowly reply, worried his closeness will weaken your resolve, "but then again it is hard to remember all of the things you say, there is so much." There you go. He snickers against your neck, warm breath tickling your skin as he lets his lips hover over your soft jawline. "Well, try not to forget this, hm?" His mouth beside your ear, he squeezes you closer to him, "Tonight when I retire to my chambers, I'm going to think of how you look in this moment, how that dress can barely contain your succulent breasts, how they spill over the top just begging to be worshiped. I'm going to think about how the fabric stretches over your curves, how it shows every crease and dip on your body. I'm going to think of you, of how you feel pressed against me right now, and I'm going to imagine it's you stroking my cock, laid bare beneath me, bringing me to release. And I'm going to imagine cumming all over those pretty, soft thighs of yours." Oh gods. He kisses your cheek, leaning back with faked innocence as a grin spreads across his face. "Think you can remember that?"

You've forgotten how to breathe, forgotten how to do anything but stare into his lilac eyes, shining with triumph.

Say something.

Your face flushes when you feel your arousal pooling between your legs.

Say something.

You swallow hard, eyes flickering down to his lips, pulled back in a shiteating grin. That does it.

SAY SOMETHING.

You push softly against his chest, giving yourself the much needed distance required to think, his hands falling to his sides. You meet his gaze and compose yourself, not willing to lose this game.

"Well," you say, clasping your hands together in front of you to stop them from shaking, "let me know when you grow tired of only imagining." You turn on your heel and walk towards a group of ladies, quickly falling into conversation with them, mustering every last ounce of self control to not turn around to see the look on his face, the look you know is there, one of surprise and, more importantly, lust. 

Checkmate.

[aegons-queen-rhaella]

Heyy! Which Yandere Hotd character you think might be into a chubby reader? I don't see any yandere ff with a chubby reader and I would love your opinions and thoughts 👀 Btw I love your blog it's amazing 🖤

Thank you so much!

I am not really a fanfic blog even though I might reblog the occasional fanfic but if I did write fanfic I think Aegon wouldn't mind a chubby reader. His favorite things are booze, food, Sunfyre, and women.

He adores curves all day!

[aegonification]

18+ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐌𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐧!𝐀𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐓𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

༇ : masterlist

𝗮𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗰𝗵𝘂𝗯𝗯𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝘂𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗶𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗳𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲; 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝗱𝗴𝘆 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘁𝘀 )𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺) 𝗶𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗼𝘂𝘁𝗳𝗶𝘁𝘀.

𝗰𝗿𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗲𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗹𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲;

𝗽𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗵𝘂𝗴𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗻𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝘀, 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗼𝗻;

𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝘄𝗼 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀.

𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝘀𝗸𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘂𝗹𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲, 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝘂𝗽 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗯𝗲𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗶𝗻 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰. “𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦？ 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦？ 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘪𝘵， 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦．”

𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗳𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝘂𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂; 𝗽𝘂𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝗷𝗶𝗴𝗴𝗹𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗮𝘀 𝗵𝗲 𝗸𝗲𝗲𝗽𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗱.

𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗶𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗲𝘁𝘀 𝗮 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗼𝗳𝗳, 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗽 𝗮𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗽 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘀 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗰 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗮𝗻𝘀.

𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗽, 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗿𝗼𝗮𝗺 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗴𝗿𝗶𝗽 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝘂𝗺𝗺𝘆 𝗿𝗼𝗹𝗹𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝘁𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗹𝗼𝗱𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗺, 𝗱𝗿𝗶𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝘂𝘀𝘀𝘆. “𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬， 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺， 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘮 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵．” 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗱𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗶𝘀 𝗮 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗳𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗰𝘂𝗻𝘁, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝗽𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗴-𝘀𝗽𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝗱𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀 𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗵. “𝘕𝘰， 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘤𝘶𝘮 𝘺𝘦𝘵 𝘈𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘯， 𝘮𝘮𝘮， 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳．”

𝗮𝗲𝗴𝗼𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗮𝘆 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘄𝗿𝗮𝗽 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗺𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘀.

𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗲𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗯𝗶𝗴 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗿𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗺𝗯𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁, 𝗽𝗹𝘂𝘀𝗵𝘆 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆--𝘂𝗻𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲, 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗲𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿.

𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗺𝗯𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝗺 𝗶𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗮𝗳𝗲 𝘀𝗽𝗮𝗰𝗲.

[written-in-flowers]

Not me turning my one shot into a series because my idea of Aegon surprising Baratheon!reader on her birthday suddenly spiraled into his spoiling her and showering her with love and lots of PDA. Not to mention, sprinkles of smut in between. Don't wanna give any spoilers, but there's a play, a picnic, and a tour of Aegon’s favorite place in the city (besides the brothels and no child fighting rings included).

[lady-ashfade]

My plans:

Working on requests! So hang tight!

Also might be working on a small cute drabble for Aegon with his wife. Him being a caring husband and a good man, he’s going to take care of his pregnant girl.

Also … @ms-fade is going to work on some more smut stuff so if you wanna check that out. (They’re taking requests!)

Also for my stranger things follows don’t think I forgot: Regret and guilt, forgive or forget. Idk when I’m work on it but I haven’t forgotten it!

[arcielee]

Hae iksā

Summary: Aemond has been tasked to find himself a wife. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Reader Word Count: 3.8k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, grinding, p in v, overstimulation, loss of virginity implied, fat phobic comments are made and a Lannister acts like a cunt. Author's Note: Hey everyone! This story is based on this request:

And I took inspiration from the prompt from @writings-of-a-hufflepuff 💜 Thank you so much to my beloved beta reader @annikin-im-panicin for your insight, for your help, Ilysm 💜 Valyrian translations: Hae iksā is as you are, Sȳz riña is good girl 😈 Dividers by @saradika 💜

You never expected to catch the eye of Prince Aemond Targaryen, much less be wrapped in his arms as you both glided across the polished dance floor. It was a moment that came from the fairy tales with how he swept you away with his graceful lead. 

It felt surreal to think how this was the very same prince whose notoriety began with the first bloodshed that inevitably threw the realm into civil war, and how it solidified when he brought it all to an end with his victory in what was now known as the Battle Above Gods Eye. He continued his regency until his brother, King Aegon II, had healed enough to ascend the Iron Throne once again. 

The king decreed that the title Protector of the Realm remain seeded to Aemond, a new namesake that shadowed the last whispers of kinslayer. With his heroism now renowned, and ballads created to commemorate his bravery, it was the king who suggested that Aemond continue his bloodline. 

There was the announcement of a grandiose festivity which began to breathe life back into Westeros’ economy, with ravens sent to every noble house, extending an invitation to every eligible noble lady. 

This was how you came to King’s Landing. 

It was the possibility of any bloodline to knit within the Targaryen dynasty that your father could not deny, and you were soon boarded onto a ship to Lannisport, taking a carriage with your septa to follow the Goldroad to the capital, your House flag and its embroidered kraken whipping in the air. 

With your travels, your septa reiterated your purpose, an almost daily affirmation repeated, but your mind was also aware of all the ladies that would be in attendance and the probability of a moment alone with the prince was… well, not something that you would hold your breath for.  

In truth, you were actually excited to visit the capital, the opportunity to meet and befriend the other noble ladies, though this optimism soon soured after your arrival. Road wearied, you were ushered by your septa and handmaidens assigned, washed and dressed in one of the many gowns stitched for this occasion: a bodice tightened to flatten your soft stomach and your chest pressed up for display. Though your whines were ignored as the corset strings were pulled, you felt rejuvenated, albeit breathless, when you were finally escorted to meet with the bevy of nobility from every kingdom, dressed in their finery and their murmured pleasantries. 

At first you were aglow with the socializing prospect, though your excitement withered when you realized the quiet that washed over, the cruel curl of their lips as their eyes narrowed, their brows raised in mockery. Any attempt you made at conversing was met with an echo of patronizing response, but it was the hurtful comment of the Lady Lannister who boldly spoke, “I suppose even a swine wrapped in silk is allowed their chance,” that made you excuse yourself, slipping away to wander the corridors until you found an ornate oak doors propped open, leading into the athenaeum. 

Here you found your salvation amongst the rows of shelving, your unshed tears drying while your fingertips brushed over the leatherbound spines. 

“Have I been found?”

It was as if your soul ripped away from your body, flooded with the burning realization that you were not alone. 

Prince Aemond Targaryen was tucked away in a window seat, a book resting on his lap. Though his expression remained severe, his tone did not indicate if truly was annoyed with your presence. Instead, he watched you, his lavender eye flitting with curiosity, perhaps, while his sapphire stone reflected in the sunlight that poured through the bay window. 

“Forgive me, I had only wished for a moment alone before I was paraded as a prize to be won…” 

This made you laugh, your hand quick to clamp over your mouth to muffle the sound, and you would have sworn you saw the flicker of amusement wash over his sharp features. “My apologies, your grace, I had not meant to impose,” and you blushed from his steady gaze. “I also am hoping for some solace with a good book, though I find myself on which to choose with this selection at hand…” 

What you had not expected was Aemond pushing to stand up, towering over your steps as he took it upon himself to walk you up and down the shelving, taking the time to point out his personal favorites and listening when you spotted your own. When you finally settled on Iron and Rubies, you noticed his brow knit with his question. “Warrior women?” 

“I must learn if I am expected to survive this–” and you paused on the word choice, bevy of bitches, held back by your good propriety, caged behind your teeth, and instead you chose to say, “–these festivities being held in your honor.”

The prince was watching you carefully as if he did not believe your words, but he did not press and instead offered a smile. It was warm, it was genuine, and you tucked this moment away in the pages of the book in your hands. 

But moments like these would repeat itself through the sennight, with your days finding its repetition: it began with a parade of skirts that flounced to capture the attention of Prince Aemond, with their indifference towards you allowing you to slip away and return to the library. 

Every day you found him awaiting you, a question poised on his lips about your opinions on the book you were reading, or sharing his complaints of the tasteless tactics shown by the ladies in attendance. You saw the loneliness that haunted the severity of his expression held, like a mask worn to keep everyone at bay; there was a pain hinted with the little he would share when you two were alone, and his confidence in you made your heart soar. 

You could not help but cherish this time shared, your wit striving to hear his laughter which would weave into your heart, this intimacy writing itself in the marrow of your bones. You already knew you would revisit these memories when you grew old and gray, all too aware that the prince would still be expected to take a wife by the end of the week. 

It soon came to the final night and his grace, King Aegon, had called for two sets of minstrels to be rotated for a continuous play of jovial melodies that the guests could dance too. The night swelled with the clash of instruments resonating  through the arched ceiling, of laughter and the clinking of crockery as every mouth partook in the feast that took a month to prepare. 

When you arrived, you were nearly ambushed by the very same Lady Lannister, pulling at your arm, almost pinching at the flesh shown past your quarter sleeve as she pulled you aside. “I am aware of your dalliance with the prince, Lady Greyjoy,” she began with a tone that struck cold against the length of your spine. “I am aware of your…friendship with Prince Aemond and feel compelled to impart some advice.” 

Your back was to the celebration, the sounds of the lords invited trying to capture the attention of the ladies who were searching for the silver haired prince muffled in this moment. Your eyes narrowed onto her. “What advice would that be?” 

“My dear girl, I truly believe your stocky size would have you better suited for a broodmare,” her painted lips continued with a sneer. “A comely lord, of course, for your status sake…” 

“Shall I gift her your tongue?”

You had barely processed her insult when his distinct timbre cut through as sharp as the blade of Dark Sister which hung at his side. You saw how the Lannister girl pale before she turned towards the prince, falling into a curtsy so deep, that her knees nearly touched the marble floor. 

“Your grace,” her spiteful tongue now stammered her words, “I was unaware that you had arrived–” 

“Or perhaps I should have her fed to Vhagar so she can no longer offend my sight?” He interrupted, his gaze settled on you alone, watching for your response. 

There was a sense of exhilaration that trilled your spine with this momentary power he presented so flippantly in this moment. You could not stop your smile. “There is no need, your grace. I would much prefer a dance than to sour the belly of a dragon.” 

He then reached for your hand, his large palm enveloping yours to tuck into the crook of his arm and leading you out to the dance floor. Here, he showed that the grace he held with a blade translated seamlessly with the waltz, and your head swam with the close proximity to him, of the woodsy amber musk that held onto his doublet. 

You then burned with the realization that every set of eyes were trained to watch, to gawk at how tenderly he held you in his arms. 

I suppose even a swine wrapped in silk is allowed their chance.

When it ended, you curtsied, quick to escape out to an enclave, to be met by the night and fresh sea air that rolled from the Blackwater Bay, the crash of waves muting the party you left behind. Your hand pressed to your chest, your heart beating against your bones, and you focused on slow, deep breaths. 

“Are you all right?” 

Your blood began to rise to the surface as you spun on your heel to face the prince. He was dressed in black, sleek and tailored to his leane frame with his house sigil embroidered onto his chest and a cape draped across his broad shoulders with a forest green underlay that peeked with the breeze. He was poised, his arms knitted behind and rested on his lower back, his silver hair glowing in the silver moonlight. 

You looked back over the bannister, your grip tightening on the stone. “Please, your grace, you have done more than enough for me this night–” 

“Aemond,” his low tone halted your words and you looked back to see his large hand pressed to his chest. “Please, my lady, with how well we have gotten to know one another, I would wish that you would call me by my name.” 

You could not help your incredulous noise to his request. “Forgive me, Aemond,” and the emphasis added on his name caused his lips to curl upwards, “but I am confused as to what game you are playing. We are both aware of what is expected of you–” 

“That I am to find a wife,” he again interrupted. 

Your lips pressed into a line, barring the frustration that threatened to spill, exasperated by his amusement that seemed to replace his usual stoicism. “Aemond,” your voice was strained, “I have truly enjoyed our time together, but now I must implore that you find your formidable wife as is expected, as I am certain she must exist,” and your hand waved flippantly back towards the entryway that led into the hall, into the sea of skirts swarming, “somewhere within the Keep.” 

“I have already, Lady Greyjoy.” 

You did not dare meet with his gaze, your eyes dropping to watch his leather boots take slow steps to where you were rooted on the terrace. It was something inevitable, something that you knew would happen, but still his words began to burn into your chest. “Oh. Then may I be the first to offer my congratulations.” 

His amusement was still apparent in his tone. “For myself or for you?”

You blinked. “Aemond, you could not possibly pick…” and you faded away, still mulling over his words. 

“Would it have ever occurred to you that I find all of you attractive?” Aemond pressed closer, his arm reaching, and you allowed him to take your hand, watching his slender fingers curl to hold, his thumb running along your knuckles.  “I would not pick and choose parts of you that I love, and just ignore the rest. I find that you, as a whole, are exactly what I have been hoping for,” and a sly smile played on his lips, “in a formidable wife.” 

It tore the air from your lungs, but his warmth kept you grounded in this moment. “Love,” was all you could manage. It was not a question, but you were unbelieving still. 

He leaned forward, the silk spill of his hair, his gaze locked onto you. “Yes,” his finger touched the underside of your chin, holding your attention. “I believe it began from the moment we met in the library, but it has become a certainty as we continued to cross paths. If you would have me,” you now noticed the pink stain to his cheeks, “I wish to announce that you would become my wife.” 

“Me?” You felt numb from his confession, from the nip of the cold air. 

He hummed again, stepping ever closer. “Yes. I love you,” and you could feel the warmth of his breath fanning your cheeks, “just as you are.”

With the announcement of your betrothal, the Red Keep was emptied of the excess nobles to begin preparations. Your fingers felt numb when you wrote the letter to your father: Prince Aemond Targaryen has chosen me to be his wife. The freedom you once shared in the library was now monitored under a spyglass; Aemond remained respectful, of course, though you noticed how his touch lingered, his palm pressed to your lower back or his lips to your knuckles with his kiss. 

His subtle gestures were for you alone and it left you wanting more.

The ceremony was intimate with only his family and your septa present. You felt dazed from the attention shown that day, scrubbed raw and hair prepared, the corset tightened around your silk chemise before your heavy gown was placed over. Your ears burned as your septa tried to prepare what wifely duties would be expected, a trepidation curling at the base of your spine.

The vows were exchanged with a chaste kiss, and soon your fingers were tucking into the crook of his arm, his large palm covering your own as he escorted you towards the marital chambers, a party in tow. It was then you saw the dragon that thrummed beneath when his voice commanded the room to empty, finally leaving you alone with your husband. 

There was a moment and he stepped further into the now empty room, while a bashfulness crept into your bones, your hands trembling to remove the cloak as your eyes fell towards the bed made. You were now painfully aware of the intimacy that would be required and your eyes dared to look over to Aemond. 

He was already bare from the waist up, his doublet and tunic removed and draped over one of the chairs, his hands pausing at the laces of his trousers when his gaze met with yours. He pursed his lips a moment, his neck bobbing. “Would you…like me to help you undress?” 

You were choked on your breath with the sight of Aemond, as he seemed to be carved from marble, lean and lithe and marred by silver scars of the battles won, decorating across his chest. He was waiting, the gleam of the candlelight on the sapphire placed in his scarred socket, and when you gave a shy nod you saw the shimmer of his hair that spilled over his shoulders with his slow steps to close the space between you. 

Your eyes fell to the lines that cut into his hips, dipping below the waistband of his trousers that rested on his slender waist; your eyes widened at the laces already loosened, at his bulge that strained against the crotch.  

Aemond was now close enough to touch, his hands warm as always, returning your attention to his bicolored gaze. You were burning with his heady gaze, from the fire you knew to be knitted with the ichor of his veins. He leaned forward until his brow touched with your own, your breathing a sweet exchange with the scent of the Dornish wine served. 

“I would not wish to hurt you,” his hum punctuating his pause, his vow to you, “I will go with whatever pace that you set.”

And so you kissed him. 

Aemond hummed again, his lips soft and sweet and so very warm against yours. It was not chaste like in the chapel and you dared to deepen the kiss, feeling his grin against your mouth and his clever tongue curling to taste.

You gasped softly and his arms wrapped to pull you flushed to his chest, enveloping you in his warmth, in his woodsy musk of sandalwood and ash. A heat began to pool at your lower back, slowly permeating throughout, sending your heart aflutter. When he pulled away, you could not control the small noise you made and it was met with an almost roguish grin, his hand taking yours to lead you to the bed. 

Aemond turned to face you and you nearly choked on your nerves as his fingers began to gently unfasten the latches and laces confining you within your gown, pulling away the layers until all that remained was your chemise and the smallclothes worn under. Your arms folded across your chest to shield, to shy away, but he was quick to wrap his large hand around your wrist, pulling lightly until your arms dropped back to your sides.

It was then that you noticed the black that eclipsed the lavender of his eye. 

“Gevie,” he breathed, closing the space once more to capture your mouth. His kiss devoured you, his passion pouring into you and you were all too willing to drown. His hands roamed to peel away the remaining layers, a red stain to his sharp features and his lips kiss-swollen and parted as he looked over your nakedness. 

 “Gevie,” he repeated, pulling you to lay back onto the bed. 

You sunk into the pillows and he climbed on top, now bare himself, his tongue relentless to lave every curve, every roll of your skin showing until the heat prickling began to consume you, his love bites flushing their dark plumes against your skin. You writhed beneath him, breathless and flushed, before he finally settled between your thighs, his fingers dimpling with his hold. 

His exhale tickled the warmth that pooled between, and then Aemond pressed forward to place an intimate kiss to the bloom above your entrance. Your lips parted with a wordless cry as his tongue began to taste, his low groan reverberating your bones beneath. 

“Just as sweet as I imagined,” he murmured between your folds and you were burning with how his clever tongue now pulled you towards an unknown edge. 

You gasped, louder than before, with the gentle prod of his fingers that were slick with his spit, curling with purpose within your velvet walls. You nearly cried out as sparks of white danced in front of your eyes, the heat that had been pooling now coursing throughout and returning to tighten in your lower abdomen. 

Aemond continued his ministrations, his tone growing husky with his encouragement, “Yes, my sweet wife, just like that,” as your pleasure began to spill, pulsing around his fingers that continued to coax you through your completion. 

It was otherworldly and you only felt grounded with the welcomed heat that permeated from Aemond, feeling him shift to slot his slender waist between your thighs. You cant your hips to cradle him in your hips and Aemond lowered to press his length against your silken folds with a delicious pressure that had you shudder. 

He swallowed your soft whimper with a sweet kiss, his hands roaming to hold you close for the slow rut of his hips against you. You felt raw from your prior release, and the mixture of pleasure and pain was now amplified when his head dipped lower, his kisses tickling and tasting the sheen of sweet across your chest and neck. 

“Aemond,” you gasped and he hummed again, his perpetual smirk playing across his lips that captured your own again. 

His mouth trailed your cheek, pressing to the soft divot below your jaw, and the rekindled heat began to lick at your spine, spreading in response. “Are you all right,” he murmured against your skin and you could only nod an eager yes, your words gone along with the trepidation from before, wiped away with his mouth and his tongue. 

This earnestness seemed to please him and his low timbre praised you. “Sȳz riña,” and you burned with embarrassment for being unfamiliar to the foreign tongue he spoke so sweetly to you. 

His arm then moved between and you felt a blunt pressure at your entrance. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades, beckoning him forward, and he followed with his gentle thrusts, pushing slowly past the slight resistance and sinking into your wet warmth. 

You sighed when he fully sheathed, a pleasant stretch to accommodate his girth, and only when he saw your contentment did Aemond relax, melting against your softness. His head tucked into the curve of your neck, his low groan chorused your sweet sounds to this new sensation. 

Aemond then stilled, waiting until your hands moved to cup his jaw, your thumb careful to trace, and you whispered words, “I am fine.” You assured him, you begged him for more, and he responded with a slow rut against you. 

Your pleasure began to build with his pace, a passion that was rooted even deeper, and your thighs lifted to tighten around his waist, your soft cries encouraging him to quicken. Aemond snapped his hips against yours, and your pleasure began to expand, returning with the flutter of your walls as he continued, hitting a spot within that has your swearing that the stars now shone bright above the marital bed. 

It consumed you both, with your tears pearling in the corners of your eyes and Aemond following after, his thrusts sloppy as he spilled inside of you. 

You both stretched onto the mattress, flushed and spent, a comfortable silence punctuated with the crackle of candles that had been lit in the bedchamber. After he caught his breath did Aemond move to grab you, pulling you against his chest, his fingers trailing over to follow the length of your spine and back, his sweet murmured concern for your wellbeing. 

You felt flustered from his attention, promising him that you felt fine, that it was nothing more than a delicious, dull ache between your thighs.

His large hand then cupped the side of your face, his chin tilting forward to press a kiss to your hairline. “Gevie,” Aemond hummed, a low rumble in his chest. 

You could not help but ask him. “What is that word?”

His thumb stroked your cheek with his translation, “Beautiful.” It was stated as if it was the most obvious thing, your chest swelling with an emotion, bursting at the seams as he kissed your lips again. 

Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @black-dread @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @theobjectofyourire @troublesomesnitch @hb8301 @snowprincesa1 @namelesslosers @darylandbethfanforever9 @helaelaemond

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[plus-size-reader]

Loyalty

Aemond Targaryen x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 3628 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader is closer to Aegon, which is unacceptable to Aemond, who is in love with her and always has been

(Disclaimer: I despise the brutality against women used as a plot device for 'entertainment' so any SA or ickiness regarding Aegon doesn't exist in my universe. He's still a burden on the realm and uber pathetic tho)

—————————————————————————————————

You had always cared for Aegon.

He could be challenging sometimes, you knew that better than anyone, but that didn’t change the fact that he was important to you. As children, he would share his toys with you and tell you stories of worlds far beyond this one.

Things changed as you got older, of course, but he was still Aegon. It didn’t matter how crass, cruel, or drunk he got.

He was your truest friend, and that meant that you were willing to put up with certain things for his sake.

At this moment, for example, you were listening to him drunkenly ramble about battle strategy and knights he figured he could best in combat over dinner. Did you particularly care about either of those things? Of course not.

…but Aegon did, so you listened all the same.

Just as the rest of his family did, because like it or not, he was the firstborn son and this kingdom was his to inherit.

One member of his family, in particular, was less than thrilled with this arrangement. At the other end of the table sat Aemond, the second son of King Viserys Targaryen, drinking from his own goblet to keep the bile from rising in his throat.

You had to be kidding.

Did you truly find his brother that interesting? It wasn’t possible that you actually believed him capable of besting Sir Harwin Strong in hand-to-hand combat. Aegon could hardly stand on his own most of the time.

He would die in a fight like that, and Aemond knew you were clever enough to know that. Still, you said nothing as he continued his rant.

You just kept listening, with a soft smile playing at your lips, as if his idiot brother wasn’t an embarrassment to his bloodline.

“I know for certain that I could have been a knight, the best knight there ever was” Aegon spouted, slurring his words lightly toward their end and earning a soft giggle from you as you imagined what that would look like.

It was a lie.

Aegon didn’t have what it took to be a knight by any stretch of the imagination but your laughter wasn’t so much about what he said. More than anything, it was about Aegon. He was drunk, as he so often was, but in moments like these, it didn’t matter.

This was how he’d been as a boy too, and that was the part that amused you. The slight glimpses of the dreamer he’d been before the world had robbed him of his right to dream.

Before he’d turned into nothing more than a man, seeking out his own pleasures, even at the expense of every other.

“I think I would quite like to see that” you mused, sipping from your own cup, though you weren’t anywhere near as under the influence as he was. You had been nursing the same goblet all night, one cup for Aegon’s seven.

It wasn’t really a challenge, but like he so often did, Aegon took it as one anyway.

“I would venture I could even beat Aemond, if he’d be brave enough to face me,” he added, shooting his brother a look that did sort of alarm you. It was beyond harmless musings about the knights of the realm and famed warriors.

This was a bit more personal, and you didn’t like where it was heading. “I could even cover an eye, make it fair for him”

Naturally, in his drunken state, Aegon’s movements were clumsy and rash but the implications when his left hand came up to cover his eye were just as impactful as they would have been if they’d been delivered sober.

You were silent for a moment, your gaze shifting between the future King’s lopsided grin and the sharp glare of his younger brother.

He knew that he’d been insulted, and you didn’t expect him to forgive it, but shot him a look anyway. It was small, but the message was clear.

You were asking him to ignore his brother’s ill conceived attempt at humor.

“Alright, perhaps you should slow down, Aegon” you suggested finally, resting your hand gingerly on his wrist, all but forcing the cup in his hand back to the table’s surface the moment he once again attempted to lift it to his mouth.

He had already been drinking most of the day and as the sun slowly retreated from the sky, it was certainly time to stop. Your fear for what he’d do if he didn’t was only furthering your insistence.

Not that you could make that clear outright.

“Y/N’s right, it’s about time for everyone to turn in” Alicent agreed, shooting you a thankful glance as she stood from the table, glad that she didn’t have to step in. The King had already gone back to his chambers, and with her leaving, everyone else was sure to follow suit.

Alicent had always been glad for the bond you shared with Aegon, though she didn’t understand it, especially in moments like this.

You were probably the only person who could have ever gotten him to do as you asked without the tantrum that normally followed. “Goodnight, your Grace” you called, watching as she and Helena retreated from the room, leaving you, Aegon and his brother alone in the room.

In the back of your mind, you were aware that Aemond was still watching you, his blue eye unwavering as he studied you, but you didn’t have time to figure out why.

Not before his brother once again pulled your attention to him instead.

“I’m not finished” Aegon tried, bringing the chalice back to his lips only for Aemond to scoff over your shoulder.

He would truly never understand how his brother had managed to survive this long, much less maintain his place in line for the throne. He had no real business being there, and he wouldn’t, if it hadn’t been for his birthright.

Though that would just be among the list of things Aemond didn’t understand, like why you were so determined to take such good care of his pathetic brother, when you got nothing back in return.

Aegon would never show you the same courtesy, not in the way he would, had he been in his place.

“Yes you are, it’s time for bed” you spoke softly to your oldest friend, but your eyes had found their way across the table to Aemond and his now sour attitude.

It was no secret that he and his brother didn’t exactly get along, but you didn’t understand what had happened tonight that was any more irksome to him than any other night. It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d insulted him, and it wouldn’t be the last.

Every night with Aegon was essentially the same, and no one was more used to that than Aemond was. Not even you.

“Will you take me?” the firstborn asked, that twisted smirk finding its way onto his face once more as he grinned, never ceasing his drinking even as he spoke about being done drinking.

Normally, one of the servant girls would be tasked with trying to get the future King to his chambers, but between his cheery mood this evening and the silent appreciation you’d gotten from the Queen, you figured you were up to the task tonight.

“If you promise to behave, I will take you” you agreed, finally reaching over to snag his cup from him completely, the stem held delicately between your fingers.

Again, Aemond found himself swallowing back more than just wine as he watched the scene in front of him unfold.

Did the two of you really have to do this every night? Aegon was married after all, and if his mother had anything to say about it, you would be too, soon enough.

It was so far beneath you.

In Aemond’s opinion, his ridiculous brother could live a thousand lifetimes and never deserve a moment of your time, but clearly, his believing that wasn’t enough to convince you. At this point, he feared nothing would.

“Are you serious?” he finally called out, not even bothering to hide the ugly tone in his voice. It was practically dripping with emotions, but whether that was jealousy or disgust, he wasn’t sure.

Perhaps it was some mix of both.

“About what?” you hummed, your focus not leaving his brother even as you spoke to Aemond, ignoring the clear upset in his voice in favor of getting the future King to his feet.

Because even when he was speaking directly to you, Aegon was all you could ever give your attention to.

Aegon was basically dead weight when he drank like this, and it was going to be quite the task for you to get him into bed without accident. Not that the servant girls complained, each and every night when they took the job.

They simply did what needed to be done, and you weren’t about to be any different. Those girls deserved a break from his drunken antics for once.

“I could get someone to do that for you. It isn’t your job to make sure he gets to bed” This time, Aemond was sure to monitor the venom in his voice, fully aware that it wasn’t getting him anywhere anyway.

If Aegon had spoken to you like that, you would have stopped everything to assess its origin, but from Aemond, it was almost as if he hadn’t opened his mouth at all.

Why he even bothered at all at this point, he wasn’t sure.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” you assured, draping the blonde’s arm over your shoulders and heading toward the door without a second look at his brother. The second son, the man who dreamed of taking care of you instead of forcing you to care for his every need.

The man who had been hopelessly pining over you for all the years you’d known him, but who you’d never once actually seen.

Left all alone at the table.

~

You were able to move quietly through the halls, finding Aegon much less drunk than you’d originally assumed once he got to his feet. His steps were clunky, and he’d been whisper-yelling in Valyrian at you the entire time, but he wasn’t totally helpless.

He’d had enough to fully give up on the pretense of his birthright, but not enough to be slobbering on your shoulder, which you had enough cause to be thankful for. In the past, he’d not been so gracious.

“Alright, go to sleep now Aegon,” you cooed, pulling the covers up over him and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head. “In the morning, we can take a walk around the garden”

The only answer to your suggestion came in the form of gentle snoring, which made you smile in spite of yourself as you left the room.

It seemed to you that the only time the prince got any peace was when he slept. He hadn’t always been that way, but as the days passed, you found it harder and harder to ignore the way the world was changing him.

You weren’t blind to the truth.

It was just as obvious to you that Aegon was a disaster as it was to everyone else. You knew that he was a coward and a fool and that the care you had for him was the only thing keeping you from sharing the ire for him that so many others felt.

You knew that, but the truth remained that he was your oldest friend and you loved him for that, despite his many flaws.

You were many things, and loyal seemed to be chief among them, even if sometimes you wondered if your faith in him was misplaced. Would Aegon be a good King? You weren’t sure, but you knew that you would be by his side until the day he proved undeserving.

The Lord’s chamber door closed softly behind you and gave way to a long dark hallway, which you maneuvered expertly. You had taken the walk between your chambers and Aegon’s a thousand times and you knew it like the back of your hand.

Still, you couldn’t account for everything.

For example, you never could have expected to be grabbed from your path until it happened, and you found yourself standing in an adjacent room instead of the long expanse of the hallway. You couldn’t see it that well, with only the moonlight streaming in through the window available to help orient yourself.

It wasn’t an altogether distinctive space at first glance, but it didn’t take you long to place it anyway.

The grasp your kidnapper had on your arms remained, even as the moments ticked by, and while it wasn’t tight or uncomfortable, it gave away the perpetrator in an instant.

Aemond.

No one else was capable of so much selfish aggression while also maintaining such a tight composure. No one else would have cause to take you from the hall, and certainly no one else would have the gull to do so.

Still, for whatever reason, apparently the blonde had decided to snatch you from your normal path and was now just holding you here, a foul look on his usually handsome face.

“Care to explain yourself, my Lord?” you scoffed, removing your arms from his grip as gently as you could, and trying to figure out what could have possibly gotten into him.

It didn’t make any sense.

Never had he attempted something like this before, and you couldn’t work out what was going on, no matter how hard you tried.

“My problem? My problem is that you couldn’t possibly be more of a fool” he started, essentially ignoring your justified response in favor of his own feelings.

He couldn’t watch it anymore.

It was bad enough that his brother was a bumbling idiot without any care for history or culture, or any actual skill. He couldn’t have the throne, the realm, and the affections of you.

That would simply be too much.

Especially when he deserved it so much more. .

“What are you talking about? How much did you have to drink tonight?” you wondered. You were used to Aemond being moody, and he could be unpredictable sometimes but never had he put his hands on you like this. Never had he spoken to you in such a way.

It didn’t make sense, and if you were being honest, you didn’t like it. This was something you wouldn’t have given a second thought coming from Aegon, but here, with Aemond in front of you, it confused you.

Aemond scoffed, clearly not finding your care for his well-being as endearing now that it was aimed at him. Even an hour earlier, he would have been thrilled to have even an ounce of your affection, but not now.

Now, it was almost an insult.

He was so tired of being the second son, and the second in line for everything. Just once, he wanted someone to pick him over his idiot brother.

“Not nearly enough. Perhaps if I drank more, you’d actually look me in the eye”

That got your attention.

You were silent for a moment as you considered his words, and what they could possibly mean in regards to this conversation.

It was an obvious jab at his brother, but it still didn’t help you understand what all this was about and you were torn. You didn’t know how long you were supposed to let this go on or how you were supposed to react.

On one hand, you never would have wanted Aemond to be upset but on the other, you couldn’t exactly explain being alone together in the dark, in the middle of the night.

It wasn’t technically allowed considering that you were both unmarried, and while the Queen was fond of you, you were certain she wouldn’t like this.

You sighed, taking in the distance, or lack therefore, of space between the two of you before you finally broke your silence. “Aemond, enough of this, what has you so upset?”

Your voice was soft as you spoke, hoping to get him to calm down enough to actually speak to you. He had always been the more rational of the brothers and he was certainly better at communicating.

It was one of your favorite things about him, but right now, he sounded like Aegon and you didn’t like that one bit either.

You put up with Aegon out of care for him and hope for the kind young boy you had once known him to be, but Aemond was better than that. You enjoyed his company, and the time you spent together was time you treasured.

You didn’t understand why he was so angry with you tonight.

“I don’t understand why you love him when he treats you so poorly. What has he ever done to deserve your affections?” he wondered, his tone matching yours almost instantly.

It hadn’t been his intention to yell at you, and it certainly wasn’t something he wanted to do, but one man could only take so much. At some point, he had to make it so that you saw who he was, and what he had to offer you.

Of course, Aemond would have preferred a heartfelt declaration of his feelings, in a room where he could actually see the sparkling of your eyes instead of this, but it was no matter.

Even if it had to be like this, little more than a hushed whisper under the cover of darkness, all that mattered was that you heard him.

…and what choice did you have after something like that? What had Aegon done to deserve your affections? You weren’t sure.

Granted, if you’d had time to think about it, you may have had a reason. You may have been able to explain the many reasons you’d chosen him as your closest friend but right now, you couldn’t think of a single thing.

All you could focus on was the way Aemond was peering down at you with so much intensity and the way his right hand had slowly snuck back up to your wrist at your side, fiddling with the fabric trim of your sleeve.

All you could see, and feel, was him in a way you’d never experienced before.

“I don’t know,'' you muttered finally, feeling a bit pathetic as you willed your brain to work properly. You had never once been stunned into silence by the presence of another person before, and it didn’t make any sense.

What had changed? You didn’t know. Apparently, in this moment, you didn’t know much of anything but instead of mocking you as Aegon would have, Aemond simply nodded.

That was what he thought.

You were so used to being devoted to his brother, and had been for so many years, that you didn’t even know why that was. You were so busy constantly doting on him, and dealing with his every thought and feeling that you didn’t realize it was meaningless.

“I could be so much more for you, if you’d only let me” Aemond’s words surrounded you the moment he spoke them, and like the crashing of waves, you realized what this was.

He wasn’t angry at all.

Aemond was hurt.

All this time, he was under the impression that the reason you remained by Aegon’s side was because of a longing, forever to be unfulfilled, but that couldn’t be more wrong.

You did not love Aegon, and it was not Aegon who made you feel as if you could breathe for the first time in all your life.

That title belonged to another, though he had clearly been just as blind to the truth as you had before now.

“I do care much for Aegon. He’s one of my oldest friends, but I have no desire to be with him,” you clarified, feeling the need to get that out in the open first and foremost. Getting a bit braver, you took his wandering hand in your own, giving it a testing squeeze.

It was so strange, knowing someone so well and not at all, all in the same moment.

Aemond tensed slightly at the touch, almost as if you’d struck him, largely because this wasn’t what he’d expected at all. In truth, he hadn’t had much time to consider anything at all regarding this conversation, but he never would have predicted this, not with all the time in the world.

“What do you desire?” he asked, his tone barely audible and inconceivably small as he tried to wrap his mind around how he’d gotten to this point.

You, the one he’d always dreamed of, were so close and yet still so far away. He felt as if he were to breathe, he may ruin it all, and that just wasn’t worth the risk.

Gingerly, you collected your thoughts, for once deciding to let your own desires out way those of everyone else.

Aegon didn’t matter, the opinions of the nobility didn’t matter, and really, Aemond didn’t either. In this moment, all that mattered was you and what you truly desired, stripped bare of all other things.

“I quite think I’d like to be cared for, for a while” you hummed, your voice equal parts certain and wavering as you tried to take a role you’d never known a day in your life.

If Aemond meant as he said, he would take care of you and that was something you desperately wanted. You just weren’t used to asking for the things you wanted, or even, needed. It wasn’t something someone of your standing had ever known.

…But, perhaps it was time to change all that.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Childish Love

HEADCANON

PAIRING: Modern!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Childhood Friends AU]

WORDS: 2,104.

SUMMARY: Growing up as childhood friends to lovers with Aegon ii would look something like this... 

WARNINGS: fluff, angst, overprotective!Aegon, NSFW, smut, breeding kink, praise kink, slight innocence kink, p in v, female receiving. 

A/N - to the incredible anon(s) that sent in those AMAZING asks/prompts about modern!Aegon, you have inspired this and it’s dedicated to you all!!! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate the engagement, seriously <3 

You first met Aegon as a shy, little girl, at the mere age of 5. He was a just few years older than you.

The story differs between Aegon and yourself, depending on who is asked.

He hates how you recount it, finding it humiliating, however no matter how hard he tried to deny it, your version is technically the truth.

It was a normal day on the playground, although today the swing set that you’d normally go to was already occupied by a boy, much larger in size than you.

You shrugged it off thinking it was a one time coincidence, and yet each day that went by he kept showing up on your favourite swing.

You had grown annoyed to the point you actually shoved him off with all your might, causing him to fall face first to the ground, a bloody graze on his knee.

No one else was close around to witness it unfold, and as he turned to see who it was that had abruptly pushed him off, he did not expect to see you standing there ever so...Innocently. 

You remember the pure shock on his face as if it only happened yesterday, and from then you’d always tease him about it.

He didn’t get angry at you nor did he retaliate back: instead he watched as you seated yourself on the swing set, and began to slowly sway.

After that incident, he would always excuse himself off if you wanted to play, and any other child that tried to rush you, he would deal with.

And still, no words exchanged between you, so Aegon resumed his normal ways.

Although, you started to follow him around now mindlessly, like a lost pup. Constantly by his side, he never questioned you directly, although his school friends found it rather unusual.

They began to taunt you one day, only to be harshly shut down by Aegon himself. And following that, you found the courage to speak, just a faint whisper of a “thank you” escaped your mouth, though it was enough of a sign for Aegon to take initiative.

As you began to grow alongside one another, you both found that you were polar opposites, although most of the time it worked in your favours.

Aegon was quite social and popular, constantly invited to parties and gatherings, you on the other hand, remained reserved, studious and shy. Only engaging in some conversation with people more acquired to your tastes... Aegon’s crowd were not your favourite, and he knew this. 

He admired that you did not force him to change, as you genuinely liked him for his natural, organic self, and vice versa. 

His family would always remain in awe as to how he even managed to land a companion like you, always remained a mystery as to how your friendship lasted through the ages.

His family deeply admired you, always inviting you over for their own family gatherings, you were part of the Targaryen crew. Alicent and Rhaenyra considered you their own daughters, constantly on Aegon’s back that if he ever harmed or bothered you, they'd have his head (figuratively speaking, of course). 

Regardless, Aegon took you everywhere with him (even if he was not permitted a plus one, for many of his friends knew that you would be the lucky girl), he did not care. 

As children, Aegon did not think much of your appearance, however as you grew into the stunning, young woman at present, he began to see you in a very different light.

Ultimately, because of this Aegon grew to become very overprotective of you. 

He noticed how guys looked at you, hunger flashed in their eyes, and it made him livid, he swore he could feel his blood boil, as his body tensed in anger. 

Initially in the early stages of the friendship, Aegon’s feelings was limited to just friends, nothing more. And yet now, now he was desperate for you to be his, completely.

On the other hand, your feelings for Aegon as children was always a simple crush. As you matured, and caught the eyes of many young suitors, your understanding of attraction began to alter. Although undeniably, no man could ever come close to how dear Aegon meant to you. 

No one in the world could nor would ever possibly amount to know you as well as Aegon did, and yet you never acted in your feelings, hesitant to be met with unrequited love. 

Despite, becoming slightly more open and extroverted, with Aegon you always found yourself to be meek and shy, blushing and giddy whenever he showed an ounce of affection towards you. 

Aegon would definitely instigate many confrontations and find himself in brutal physical altercations with guys that even made a pass at you: he even started one with a lad that he felt stared far too long at you for his liking. 

You hated how battered and bruised Aegon would be following these, and urged him to have some self-control. You felt that Aegon had no right to intervene with whom you spoke with for whatever reason. Although the more you contemplated the matter, you felt he actually did. And if you were being brutally honest with yourself, you rather liked the attention he now gave you, convinced he no longer saw you as the same little girl in the playground nor as a ‘sister’, although something more. 

Aegon did (secretly) love the attention from your part that he received, after such fights. The way you tended to his wounds, and went above and beyond, nurturing him and healing him back to good health. It made him feral to see you so maternal.

Aegon definitely loved to spoil you. His family were quite wealthy, so his gifts were often grand, materialistic and expensive, whereas yours generally leant towards the sentimental side.

You loved making photo albums, and making collages of your trips and adventures with Aegon growing up (definitely not planning to show your future children of their parents in their youth). 

Aegon would gift you with identical, gold chains for your 22nd Birthday, yours had his initial ‘A’, whereas his had yours. 

Aegon would even gift you a promise ring, and this basically confirmed to you his feelings, as you both openly talked about how you felt, into the long hours of the night.

You found yourself becoming more clingy and needy for him, always attached to him whenever you had the chance. 

He did not mind nor was he ever irritated by it: he thrived off it. 

The way you’d either play with the bulky, metal rings on his fingers or buried yourself in his arm, or held him from behind, as he spoke with his friends. You never engaged in their conversation, and he much preferred it that way. 

Although, you had grown to dislike many of his female companions, for some you’d noticed especially at parties where Aegon was susceptible to being tipsy, would try to sway him with their ‘charm.’ 

You would always intervene in a timely manner, finding yourself comfortably seated on his lap, as you allowed him to indulge himself, whether he was nibbling your neck leaving a wet trail of soft kisses, or even a naughty hickey. 

In the morrow or whenever Aegon would recover from his hangover, you would persuade him to ditch said friends, and he wouldn't question it. Whatever you wanted, you got. 

Aegon struggled to say no to you. 

Throughout these years, Aegon did try to contain his carnal urges of wanting to take some advantage of you. Although you always made it difficult for him, he was often torn between being good and decent or being fucking feral.

Though now that you were exclusive with one another, he could please himself whenever and however, although he made sure he was careful with you, and that it was special. 

He knew he was your first (and last, as he decided appropriately), he was experienced and could tell by the anxious look on your face, that even though it was only him, your Aegon… You were nervous.   

With the other girls in his past, he never grew any real attachment, nor did he ever commit to a proper relationship (he would fuck them whilst envisioning you in his mind, even go so far as to lose himself in the moment, moaning your name, he could care less).

He was very tender with you, although once he knew you were comfortable with sex, his true nature began to peak through. 

He never before was into aftercare, although took pride in it with you. He was a bit uncertain of what to do, although he did what he could and overtime he improved. 

Seeing your naked, bare body for the first time, was definitely a moment that took his breath away. You were perfect. 

Even though he'd never actually been with you before, he knew his way around a woman’s body. 

The way he held you, lifted you, pleased you, it was divine, although he could be sloppy and aggressive at times. 

You guys would use protection, for the sake of his family, although Aegon always argued there was no point, for he knew he wanted to have children with you, so why not start now?

The boy loved to cockwarm you, always moaning how your cunt was made only for him, even though you struggled to take him all in.

His dick wasn't too long although it was very thick and girthy, always stretching your walls out, the pain was there although it was bearable and soon became pleasurable as he eased himself in slowly. 

Aegon was obsessed with your tits, the way they'd bounce as you rode him, as he loved to see you on top occasionally, and he had a soft spot for your ass to, the way he could squeeze, spank and even bite them. 

He always praised you in the bedroom, calling you his “princess”, how perfect you were and that you were too good for him, “I don't deserve you at all, but I’m never letting you go.” 

You often joked outside the bedroom, calling Aegon “Daddy” as he always gave you instructions on what you can and can’t do, always so protective when it came to boys, that it seeped into the sex.

The moment it slipped out so sultry, with an innocent, sheepish look on your face when you called him “Daddy”, he pulled your face up to look directly at him, firmly holding you by the jaw as his thrusts became slower, more intense, as he tried to shove himself deeper. 

“Say it again.” 

Like mentioned previously, Aegon knew he wanted to have children with you. He craved it. The thought of you pregnant, tits large and tender ready with milk for the babe, as your belly swelled with his child inside, drove him mad. The fact that it would be evidence of him having defiled you, made his cock twitch with excitement. 

“All in good time, my love,” You would innocently tease Aegon.

You guys often had talks of the future in bed together, as you laid naked against his chest, his arm wrapped around your warm, exhausted body. 

Aegon usually was always tired after sex, although if you remained awake, he would too. 

In the mornings, he loved waking up to see you in his clothes, and did not mind that you would occasionally steal his jumpers and t-shirts. He actually encouraged you to wear it publicly, to send a message that you were his. 

In college, Aegon was always at your dorm or with you in the library, he never wanted you venturing the male dorm rooms. He lacked focus in his academic studies, although admired watching you. 

You would definitely help him with assignments, notes and exams, and in return he would spoil you through material means or just some good sex. 

He’d definitely would fuck you in the library: loved tormenting you, holding back your screams and moans, as you collapsed under his touch. If he got bored whilst you were studying, he’d even finger you under the desk, watching you vulnerably squirm, suppressing the urge to helplessly moan his name, wanting to beg for his cock. 

HE fucking LOVES IT!

Aegon did not mind your friends (specifically the female ones), although they did not like him. They thought of him possessive and controlling, although you tried to reassure them countless times, that was not the case. 

They struggled to believe it, although eventually surmised that you were genuinely happy with him. 

Nonetheless, Aegon was destined to be yours as you were his, the moment you’d met in your childhood. Love like this was rare, and thus, you both pledged to cherish it forever with each other. 

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

✨💫 NAVIGATION 💫✨

About me:

My name is Christina, I'm 20+, and I love Halloween, makeup of all genre, horror movies, 2000s rom-coms, writing, cats...and Taylor Swift more than anything. I'm a creative person at heart and share personality type with Kat Strattford and Wednesday Addams. I've been writing since I read the Twilight books and currently write for Scream, Wednesday, TSITP, Marvel, and more

☆ My taglists form here

☆ My 2024 prompt list is here and you can send requests here at any time

Who I write for:

MCU characters (Peter Parker + Loki Laufeyson) | Masterpost

Teen Wolf (Stiles Stilinski + Derek Hale) | Masterpost

Outer Banks (JJ Maybank + Rafe Cameron) | Masterpost special fandom prompt list

Jess Mariano (Gilmore Girls) | Masterlist

Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon (Daemon Targaryen + Aemond Targaryen + Aegon II Targaryen + Jacaerys Velrayon (NEW) + Jon Snow) | Masterpost special fandom prompt list NEW

Wednesday (Xavier Thorpe + Ajax Petropolus + Wednesday Addams) | Masterlist

Marcus Baker (Ginny & Georgia) | Masterpost

Scream (Ethan Landry + Chad Meeks Martin + Mindy Meeks Martin + Tara Carpenter + Billy Loomis + Charlie Walker + Amber Freeman) | Masterpost special fandom prompt list

The summer I turned pretty (Conrad Fisher + Jeremiah Fisher) | Masterpost

Tate Langdon (American Horror Story: Murder House) | Masterpost

Young!Coriolanus Snow (Hunger Games) | Masterpost special fandom prompt list ** crossed fandoms/characters are on hold

REQUESTS RULES

I have the ability to deny and delete any requests I don't want to write

If the request is from a list, adding the quote with the number helps me a lot (I have more than one list and it gets confusing for me)

I don’t have a set word count for requests, but I try to keep them between 0.5k - 1k

Do not send me the exact same request you sent to many other writers. If see it, I'll then delete it

Smut is allowed, and welcomed

I WILL NOT WRITE

These NSFW themes — feet fetish, a/b/o, innocent!reader , humiliation/degrading kink, water sport, graphic SA or anything non-con (unless it’s part of a ‘game’)

RPF (real people fiction)

Romanticization of mental health (eating disorders, depression, any type of self harm, etc.)

Anything yandere related

Anything involving someone being sick or periods

Peter x Tony (romantically) or any form of incest (with the exception of GoT and HotD)

Pregnancies / main characters being a parent

male!reader

nb!reader or gn!reader (nothing against it, I just wouldn’t want to write it wrong)

male!reader

black!reader or plus size!reader (nothing against it, I just would want to offend anyone by writing something I don’t know about)

[b00kdiary]

Beautiful creature

Aemond x Plus size reader

Aemond and the reader are in a game of cat and mouse, where predator hunts prey. He doesn't care who she is, or where she is from, he doesn't care what anyone else thinks. He wants her.

Warning: The series will contain swearing, violence, body issues, and sexual content (mature 18+)

Part I

Part II here

Part III here

Masterlist (Aemond Targaryen)

Y/n Tyrell had never been so nervous in her life.

Never as nervous as she padded through the corridors of the Red Keep, her clasped hands fidgeting endlessly and her heart beating so loud she could hear it in her ears. Y/n followed Otto Hightower silently, barely taking in the artwork and archaic architecture, her mind too busy with the endless scenarios of how her life here would unfold.

She imagined either being attacked and assaulted by the repulsive Prince Aegon or being cut into tiny pieces by the terrifying Prince Aemond.

Her stomach twisted at either option.

The Tyrells were no cowards, and she had been raised with as much wit and fire as any of her brothers. Yet that fire seemed to fizzle out at the reality that she was one girl, only 17 and in this pit of dragons without anyone she knew or loved.

The Hand of the King gave her an encouraging half-smile as he glanced back at her and despite her best efforts, she could just about manage to curve one slight corner of her lip. He frowned, his face full of pity as if he, better than most, knew the tendencies of the family she would now serve.

They curved around another bend and soon stopped before a mahogany door, varying flowers of beauty and smell gathered on either side.

Princess Helaena’s room.

Otto knocked softly, and as he did, Y/n gathered her strength, her hands going by her side, her chin raising slightly and her back straightening. She inhaled once, exhaled and repeated the action silently twice more before that door was creaking open and they entered.

The room was simple, not particularly extravagant, and not what Y/n had expected of the Princess. But at noticing the children’s toys and cribs, she realised that this was probably the only place the Princess felt real peace.

She stopped before the two chaises, Otto had gone to stand beside his daughter, The Queen and Helaena.

“Halaena, Alicent… may I introduce Lady Y/n Tyrell- she will be your new lady-in waiting” He smiles and y/n curtsy, her hand lifting the simple brown satin dress as she lowered her head.

When y/n’s eyes lift, Helaena is grinning, her bright teeth on display and blue eyes glistening as she clasps her hands before her in joy. “It is a great pleasure for myself and my family that you would consider me worthy, my Queen” Y/n said gently, and Alicent’s eyes softened as she observed the girl.

“The pleasure is ours, there is none other than the heart of Highgarden who would be a greater ally and friend for my daughter” Alicent smiled and Y/n’s lip curved, her cheeks tinting at the old name.

She was the Heart of Highgarden, beloved by her people.

Before Y/n could speak Helaena squeaked, rushing forward and before y/n could part her lips in greeting, the Princess pulled her into a suffocating hug. “I so look forward to another woman’s company” She mumbled against the dark auburn ringlets of Y/n's hair.

 Y/n relaxed, her arms lightly hugging back, happy that at least one of the Targaryen was not a monster.

Y/n pulled away and the two girls grinned, already quite the team to watch out for.

“You’re going to love the Red Keep, I can show you all my favourite-“ Helaena was cut off by a raspy and deep voice.

A male voice.

“Aemond, Aegon” Helaena smiled in greeting, her bright eyes lifting past Y/n’s shoulder. She stiffened, her body going rigid and goosebumps rising as she rasped out a tight breath at the first meeting with the Princes.

She turned, her eyes down and chin lowered slightly as she bowed “My Princes” Y/n muttered softly in greeting, only their silence meeting her back. She raised, her breath shallow as she lifted her chin to meet their eyes.

One enrapturing sapphire blue eye and a dark brown leather patch immediately caught her attention.

Prince Aemond.

She swallowed at his intense gaze, the passive mask he wore revealing nothing. Y/n was struck by his beauty, he’d been described as being near monstrous in tales, ‘Aemond one- eye’ they called him and yet he was anything but unattractive.

Not with the soft and silken silver hair, creamy white skin and chiselled and defined cheekbones and jaw. Even the eye patch, as terrifying as it was, enhanced his beauty in the most sinister way.

No, this man was gorgeous and not at all what she had been expecting.

And the raise of his brow and slight vicious curve of his lips indicated he knew exactly what Y/n was thinking as she beheld him.

She blanched but not before Aegon muttered, soft and barely audible “Look at the tits and ass on her, she’d be a fine fuck- heavier than I like, but still…”. Y/n stiffened, her breath cutting out at the lewd and obscene words.

Aemond’s lips thinned as he ignored his brothers' feral smirk and disgusting sentiment and as his eyes dragged to Y/n and then lowered over her body, completely unreadable, she felt the desire to hide behind Helaena, tears clawing at her eyes at the judgement he was making.

“Heavier than I like.”

Y/n knew she didn’t look like other ladies, she wasn’t ugly, she knew that and yet her size was something she had endured her entire life. Y/n was of average height but was curvier than most women in Westeros.

Her thighs, pillowy and riddled with cellulite touched and rubbed when she walked, her hips flared and had dips on either side and her stomach had rolls, not just one or two but enough that sometimes these tight and laced dressed felt like shoving herself into a cupboard.

Y/n had been doted on for her face; the soft tan skin, mesmerising hazel eyes, an upturned nose and full lips and her thick, flowing long hair that was the envy of Highgarden.

Too bad that she was ‘too heavy’ they’d say after all of that positivity.

Y/n bit back her anger and frustration, her sadness, and lowered her eyes from Prince Aemond’s scrutiny, gathering herself.

“This is Lady Y/n Tyrell” Helaena stated beside her, and she raised her face slightly to smile at her, the gaze of a certain Prince burning into Y/n as she watched her new friend. “She will be my new lady- in- waiting and I expect a very good friend, so be nice” She warned, though not that frighteningly.

Aegon snorted, and Y/n glanced towards that savage face “Oh, I’ll be very nice” he purred, his eyes dark with a twisted sense of male satisfaction as if already knew how easy this would be. Y/n grimaced, her hands clasping at her sides, her nails biting into her palm.

The pain was a welcome distraction.

Prince Aemond stepped forward swiftly, his figure shadowing Aegon before blocking him from Y/n’s view entirely.

She shrunk slightly at the feel of his body heat, the fire of the Targaryen line in his blood. With weariness, Y/n locked eyes with the Prince.

His expression did not change from nonchalance and yet, there, right there, in that singular blue eye, Y/n could see the fascination, the intrigue of a predator eyeing its new prey.

“Welcome to Kings Landing, Lady Tyrell” Aemond rasped, so low and smooth that it ran over Y/n’s body like a cool wind.

He noticed the imperceivable shiver that ran over her and one corner of his lip lifted like he liked the effect he had on her.

Y/n knew that this would not be good.

***

It had been 6 months since Y/n had arrived at Kings Landing and began helping Princess Helaena.

Six months of surprising peace and joy, she came to very much adore and admire the Princess- she respected her strength as a mother and daughter, came to love her weirdness and insect obsession and even came to heed the warning to the odd ‘prophecies’ that she’d randomly blurt out.

Her initial fear had practically disappeared.

Prince Aegon did not make true to his promise, thank the Gods. Not only did he not ‘be very nice’ to Y/n but he made it a point to avoid her, barely looking at her or even speaking to her. It would have been a miracle by most standards if a certain silver-haired, one-eyed Prince hadn’t been there.

Aemond.

Y/n had pretended like she hadn’t noticed, but she had. 

She saw the way that Aegon would eye Aemond nervously whenever you were in the room and for whatever reason near him, she saw how he’d make any excuse to leave as swiftly as possible and she certainly saw that terrifying and world-ending glare that Aemond would throw Aegon as soon as she was near.

The kind of glare that promised a painful death should he say or do anything.

He was protecting her and she had no idea why.

A part of her wanted to think that he did it out of the goodness of his heart, not willing to allow another woman to be preyed upon by his brother. And yet, Y/n knew, she knew that the most likely and evident reality was that he didn’t want Aegon hunting you because Aemond had already called dibs.

You were his to play with.

For the last few months, he rarely spoke to her, besides a few purred good mornings and hello’s or a silken and raspy goodnight or goodbye. He did it on purpose, liking, living off her reaction, that warm tint that filled her cheeks and the stuttered reply Y/n would give in response.

He would stare too.

A brand on her face and body, immovable and indomitable as Y/n moved around. It began as she prepared the Princesses things around her chambers, he would stare- sit beside his sister and listen to her endless tales but his eyes would never once leave her.

Then one visit to his sisters' chambers turned to two visits, then three and then suddenly every corner she turned, every room she entered, everywhere, the Prince was.

Watching her.

He’d smirk, so subtle that most wouldn’t be able to tell and he’d lean back, spreading his strong legs apart and laying his wrist against the muscle of this thigh as he held his cup. The movement was agile, particularly smooth and one that made her mind spread with damning thoughts.

A part of her enjoyed it, it was a harmless game not nearly as horrific as she had feared.

 She’d find herself looking forward to her interactions with the Prince; the gentle graze of his calloused hands as he’d take a wine cup from her, the way he’d smile softly and his eyes would widen when she and Helaena would talk and laugh in his presence and she began to very much like the way his eyes would wonder her body, glowing with something that looked like awe and hunger, like the idea of every curve, dip and roll was a never-ending temptation.

But Y/n knew not to be stupid, Prince Aemond was attractive, rich and powerful and she was certain he had his fair share of wealthy, skinny, perfect ladies throwing themselves at his feet.

He was not fawning and lusting over a heavily curved lady in waiting.

Y/n was scolding herself over such thoughts as she hurried through the corridors of the Red Keep, her rosy lips down turned and eyes focused upon the floor, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of the Prince.

So preoccupied that she hurtled face-first into a hard chest. She hissed, recoiling back and nearly tripping over backwards if not for the strong and capable grip that reached around her waist and helped her back up.

She sighed shakily, “Thank you-“ She paused at that one eye sparkling down at her. 

She froze before the Prince, the feeling of his warm and rough hand against her waist like fire, scorching through her clothes into her body. His chest was brushing against her breasts and her body felt electric at the warmth and sturdiness of him.

She was pressed up against the Prince and from the darkness that clouded his expression and the possessive grip of his fingers on her skirts, she knew this was too far.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, recoiling backwards and Aemond’s face fell as his hand slipped from her waist “My Prince, my apologies, I should’ve been looking, I am so-“

“Lady Y/n” He cut off deeply, his voice echoing off the walls. “You needn’t apologise, it was an honest mistake, I am just glad that you weren’t harmed by my bruteness”. Y/n gaped, heat rising in her neck as she clasped her hand before her yet again, fiddling with nerves.

“Thank you, my Prince, for the… the help” Y/n stuttered out, and he gave a lazy smirk at that bashful look.

He exhaled, his face and body relaxing as he moved closer and leaned beside the wall, inches from her. “Tell me, what or who” He whispered, “Had you so consumed that you didn’t hear my footsteps coming?” His eye glinted, his arms folding over and brow-raising, taunting her as if already knew the answer.

“I-“ Y/n stopped, inhaling and exhaling briskly before she straightened her back “I was going over my lists for Princess Helaena, the ball tonight shall be busy and there are lots to be done,” Y/n said, her words smooth and flowing sentence and she felt herself relax in comfort with the Prince.

He realised that comfort and a small, appreciative smile graced his lips, even as he perked up.

“Yes, this ball” He rolled his eye and Y/n giggled at the look of disdain on his face. His face lightened at that light and breathy sound.

“You don’t enjoy balls? Surely a Prince would be partial to booze and women” She teased, surprising even herself, but particularly surprising Aemond, that sharpness of tone hitting him at the word ‘women’.

A dark, almost feline smirk appeared, his head leaning lower and closer, so close she could feel the cool caress of his breath against her cheek.

“I couldn’t imagine I’d care much for the other women, not if you are there” He mumbled, soft and seductive, and y/ns breasts tightened and her body throbbed at the tone. She blushed, and Aemond merely chuckles in reply, his fingers coming forward and twisting into the soft curl of one strand of loose hair.

“That is a sweet sentiment, My prince” his hand tightened at the title as if he liked the way it sounded on her lips “But the other fine ladies of Westeros will have to do since I will not be in attendance”.

His hand stopped his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?” He asks and y/n sighs, shrugging indifferently.

“I am Helaena’s Lady in waiting, not a Princess or something similar, it’s not a ball for me” She states softly, trying not to let the disappointment shine too brightly in her eyes.

“You’re the Lady of Highgarden, of Tyrell blood and a member of our Court,” Aemond said roughly, his hands now folded sternly over his chest again, his eye bright with frustration at her, at the low opinion she held of herself.

“That is very kind, My Prince, but I doubt many would share that sentiment” She smiles in appreciation, “Besides it’s far too late, I couldn’t find anything to wear. I am content to curl up with a book in my chambers”.

He shakes his head, a frown on his lips “If the issue is a dress, then-“

“Aemond! Y/n!” Helaena calls.

Y/n instantly steps back from the close bubble that she had found herself and the Prince in, before turning and beaming as Helaena waltzes over with a kind smile.

“Princess” Y/n greets.

“I was beginning to wonder what had happened, you’d been gone so long,” She says, stopping beside her.

“That would be my fault sister, the Lady and I had gotten too caught up in our conversation,” Aemond says smoothly, a small curved smile on his face as he looks at his dear sister, “She’s very… beguiling” He purrs, his eye twinkling with amusement as Y/n duck her head, biting her lip at his words.

“That she is” Helaena grins, not particularly in tune with the tension that was spiralling from the two people beside her.

“We should go, Princess, there’s much to prepare before tonight” Y/n states softly and Helaena merely nods before smiling up at her little brothers and walking away.

Y/n looks at the Prince, his face now more contemplative and bows her head slightly in respect “My Prince, I hope the ball and its people please you” She mumbles out and with a shaky breath, Y/n walks away.

His eyes burned into her back the entire time.

***

Y/n paced through the Princess's room, different garments and silks in her hand as she tidied and organised, knowing that the Princess would prefer a neater space when getting ready for tonight.

Her mind had been flustered with thoughts of the Prince for hours, her mind plagued by the feeling of his hand on her body, the amusement and desire rippling through his face and the sweet caress of words he had breathed against her as he toyed with her hair.

She had to yet again remind herself of the game- it was not real, it was all just fun.

He didn’t find her attractive and he certainly wouldn’t choose her in a room full of beautiful, thin Westeri women.

Sighing, Y/n swiftly grabbed the cotton and silks she was holding and placed them into the cabinet, barely acknowledging the creaking floorboards and door opening and closing, anticipating Helaena arriving soon to decide her outfit for tonight.

“Helaena, the gold silks just came in from-“ She started as she turned, jumping in surprise as Aemond stood before her, poised and straight, his eyes dancing over her “My Prince, I thought you were your sister… what can I help you with?”

Aemond nodded, stepping forward with a mischievous glint in his sapphire eye. “I brought you something” He states simply, his hand rounding from his back to present the simple black box he was holding, a blue ribbon wrapped over it.

Y/n frowned in confusion, but seeing the glint in Aemond’s eye, she hesitantly grabbed the softbox, gently unfurling the ribbon and taking off the lid.

She nearly gasped.

“My Prince” She started “ I couldn’t-“ She looked up wide-eyed and then back down to the beautiful cream and silver gown, the material the softest and most expensive of silks. “This is far too much, I cannot accept-“

“Your Prince demands it,” Aemond says shrugging and definitive, his body now perched against the tabletop, his face showing that he won’t take no for an answer.

“But-“ She stops as he growls lowly, a grave expression overcoming his face, a warning to not test him.

“I-“ she swallows, bowing her head “Thank you, My Prince, it’s a truly beautiful gown” Y/n mutters quietly in earnest and Aemond’s face seems to melt at the sight.

“You needed something equal to your beauty, something that was as breathtaking and damning as you” He replied quietly, standing up from his leaning position.

“Damning?” She questioned with a cocked head, her brows pulling together. He chuckled, marching over in quick paces and standing before her so close they touched.

“So very damning” He whispered in reply, his eyes trailing over Y/n’s eyes, and nose and then stopping at her mouth. Y/n barely breathed as he watched her, his eyes debating and fighting within himself.

But she desperately wished she was brave enough to rise onto her toes and make the choice for him.

But instead, he sighed, a long and frustrated one before he inched back slightly, collecting himself. “I have something else” He smiled and Y/n watched in awe as he pulled out a chain, long and thin and at the very end lay a pendant the shape of an eye, a sapphire blue orb practically glowing in the middle.

“It’s… gorgeous ” Y/n stuttered, so softly it was barely audible. Aemond smiled, genuine as he watched her marvel at the piece, even as she hesitated at accepting. “I’m not sure I deserve something too expensive and lovely, My Prince”

“Nonsense” He tutted, dismissing her words with a harsh frown. His hand came to her waist and she gasped as his grip tightened on the flesh and he manoeuvred her body around, her back now against his chest.

“Beautiful creatures deserve beautiful things” He murmured as Y/n looked over her shoulder and merely nodded once in meek acceptance, her heart stuttering in her chest.

Aemond’s touch was electric as he ran his hand up from Y/n’s hip bone over her waist and scrapped by the sides of her breast, she nearly seized at the whisper of his touch as it grazed up to her neck. He paused, the only sounds heard were the heavy breathing of Y/n and surprisingly the uneven puffs of air that escaped the Prince as his fingers lingered on the skin of her collarbone and shoulder.

Y/n shivered as, with gentle and calloused hands, Aemond pushed the long, curled locks of dark hair across her shoulder and left it all gathered on her left shoulder, exposing the column of her neck.

She gasped at the cold press of his fingers down her neck and blushed with embarrassment at the icy chuckle that escaped the Prince's mouth and reverberated against her back, his heated chest pressed firmly against her.

He leant down, and with the most precise and intimate intention, ever so softly, so soft it was as if he hadn’t done it, ran his nose and lips across the pane of her outstretched neck and in almost unconsciousness, Y/n angled her head to allow him better access.

The Prince hummed in approval as he pressed his lips against her collar, inhaling her scent and getting drunk off the feeling. “So fucking damning” he muttered, spitting the words harshly, as if in anger and lust and all things good and bad. Y/n groaned, melting against him, her mind clouding over at that hard pressure against the curve of her ass, even as Aemond snarled with barely held restraint.

Good god, she felt like she was going to combust.

“My Prince” Y/n whispered, her eyes fluttering and breathing uneven “Someone could come in, this isn’t-“ She sighed at his hands enclosing her waist, and despite that second of fear as he encircled her stomach, his touch had her too overwhelmed to worry.

“Hmm” he considered lowly, lifting his head from y/ns neck and reluctantly loosening his hands from her waist, she nearly dragged him back, missing his touch instantly. “I promised myself I would contain myself with you, my love”

My love.

She nearly buckled under the sheer pleasure that the nickname gave her.

“But it seems you’re far harder to avoid than I had anticipated” He growls, shaking his head. Y/n gulps, her chest heaving as she pants. Aemond sighed, their bodies loosening as he finally lifts the necklace before her and with hands so gentle, like he thought she’d break, he clasped the necklace around her.

His fingers were hot on her skin as he brushed over the line of the thin chain around her neck and she turned to him, to show him the final result. He groaned slightly, low and predatory noise at the back of his throat as his eyes lowered to where the pendant sat, nestled just between her breasts.

He ran one finger absentmindedly down the middle of her chest, stopping right at the centre of that sapphire-blue orb.

The orb that resembled his eye so meticulously.

Y/n breathed, in and out, in and out, even as he stared down at her with want and need and even as his long and ringed finger idly touched the sensitive skin of her breasts.

“Thank you, My Prince” Y/n breathed out, the rasp of her voice dragging the Prince's attention back to her and he smirked, victorious.

“Find me at the ball, my love” and with those final uttered words, he stalked away.

[prettyblondguys]

String Along pt 2

IT'S HERE BABES! Part 2 with Aegon and our lovely plus sized reader. Takes places directly after part 1 :) Reblogs are very appreciated!

Warnings: SMUT. PURE FILTHY SMUT. Minors DNI. Fingering, oral (f recieving), P in V, LOTS of overstimulation - painful overstimulation, crying during sex, praise kink, ejaculation, hand job. I think that's it? Proofreading goes against my religious beliefs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The festivities had lasted well into the night, and you were feeling drained by the time you found yourself walking down the corridors to your room, itching to discard your dress and relax under the covers. Hearing footsteps close behind you, you turn to see Aegon hurrying to catch up.

"Lady Y/n," he greets you, eyes scanning over you before looking straight ahead, keeping pace with you.

"My Prince," you keep your gaze forward, "I thought you had retired to your chambers earlier tonight."

"Oh, were you paying that much attention to me after all?" You can practically hear the smirk, but you don't react, you had already made it clear that you were done with his empty flirting. 

"My apologies," Out of the corner of your eye you see him look at you as he goes on, "you must be tired, I will save my teasing for tomorrow." You sigh, He still doesn't get it? 

"I am afraid I shall be too tired for it tomorrow as well, and the day after that and so on." You both reach your door and you go to open it when you feel his hand wrap around your wrist, not tight, but enough to get you to look at him.

He stares down at where you touch, his thumb gently rubbing across your skin. Stepping closer to you until your back is against the door, his lilac eyes slowly sweep up your body until they meet yours, burning with something you had only ever hoped to see in them, desire. You can feel the heat radiating off of him in waves, his face so close to yours that his breath warms your skin as he whispers,

"Are you too tired even for company?" He slips his fingers down your wrist until they hold yours, feeling like a flame in the palm of your hand. You can't help the shudder that runs through your body as you shake your head 'no', heart beating out of your chest when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours, before finally kissing you.

The kiss isn't hard or rough, but it steals the breath from your lungs anyway, leaning into him to try and deepen it, hands grabbing the front of his tunic as his find rest on your hips, kneading the doughy flesh through the fabric of your dress. He closes the gap between your bodies, pressing himself against you with a moan. You pull away needing air, staring in awe at how evident his need is, his pupils blown with lust and lips parted as he softly pants, reaching one hand up to cup your soft cheek, searching your eyes for something. 

"Are you certain you want this?" Are you serious? You nod your head furiously before crashing your lips to his, 

"Quite certain," you mumble against his lips, reaching behind you to open the door, the two of you shuffling backwards into your room and shutting it behind you. Aegon leaves searing kisses down your jaw and neck, a burning trail all the way down to your ample chest, straining against the plunging neckline. He pauses, reaching both hands up to cup your breasts, groaning as he leans down and shoves his face between them, teeth nipping at the flesh and placing wet kisses over the bites as he begins mumbling unintelligible praises against your skin. You feel heat start to build in your lower regions, moaning when he slowly kisses his way back up, taking your hand and pressing it to the front of his pants, holding it firm so you can feel how hard he is.

"See what you do to me? Hm?" He asks you, eyes closing with a sigh when you start palming him through the fabric.

"Do you still think I mean none of the things I say?"

You reach under his tunic and begin undoing the laces, loosening them just enough to reach in and take hold of him, marveling at the gasp he lets out as you stroke him leisurely, the way his brows furrow and his lips form a pout. You kiss him again, tongue trailing along his bottom lip for entrance, which he promptly grants, bringing one hand to the back of your head, crushing your mouths together, the other gripping your waist. You swallow each little moan and whine he releases, feeling drunk on him.

It doesn't take long for him to come apart, suddenly crying out in pleasure as you feel his warm seed spurt onto your hand, his hips slowly rocking forward. His eyes flutter open, glossy and yet still full of hunger, his cheeks flushed the prettiest shade of pink.

"Take this off," he says, tugging on the skirt of your dress, watching you like a hawk as you pull your hand back and start unlacing the front of your gown, undoing the bodice and letting it fall down your shoulders and pool around you on the floor, leaving you in nothing but your underthings. You enjoy the way he's looking at you more than you'd ever admit.

"Your turn," you say, earning a chuckle from Aegon as he unfastens the buttons on his tunic, peeling it off and tossing it to the floor before leaning down to kick of his pants and shoes, nudging your foot with his upon seeing you still had yours on, smiling as you absentmindedly oblige him, too entranced by his bare form. You place both hands to his chest, running your fingers over his collarbone and down his milky skin, explorative touches all the way down his sides and to his stomach, soft and slightly pudgy. 

By the gods, he's beautiful.

He lets his hands wander your body, the creases and folds along your sides, fingertips ghosting over the silvery stretch marks on your upper thighs and back, caressing the soft roundness of your belly. Both of you stand there, hands searching and grasping freely for who knows how long, when suddenly he's leading you towards the bed. You move to the middle and lean back, heart pounding as he crawls towards you, stopping when he's between your legs, smirk firmly set in place. "You know," He starts, hands running up and down your thighs while his eyes flicker down to the wetness seeping out and glistening on your chubby outer lips, partially hidden by hair, "the wine tonight wasn't quite sweet enough for my taste," he leans down and begins to leave wet kisses along your stomach, over the swell of your belly and the dimples near your hips, tongue swirling over the stretch marks decorating your skin while making his way lower and lower until his lips hover over your mound, coarse hairs brushing against his chin as his eyes lock with yours, "perhaps you'll satisfy my sweet tooth"

Holy fuck.

All other thoughts leave you as he licks a strip up your folds, using his fingers to hold your lips apart to taste you better, face disappearing between your legs as he hungrily drinks you down. The sounds of him moaning against you and slurping, yes, slurping up your juices would have flooded your cheeks with embarrassment if not for how absolutely phenomenal it felt, his tongue dipping towards your entrance before licking back up through your folds and over your clit, moaning when he sucks it into his mouth, your hand reaching down to grab hold of his head, tugging on his pale locks as he keeps his lips locked around your clit, tongue flicking against the pearl as his fingers begin to collect some of your wetness before plunging a digit in, grinning against your cunt when you let out a gasp at the intrusion, bucking your hips up and further into his face, chasing as much pleasure as he was willing to give you.

"Greedy little thing, aren't we?" He murmurs against you, his voice betraying the fact that he's enjoying it just as much as you are, grinding his cock into the mattress while he eats you out. The heat in your core starts spreading through your body as more arousal spills from you, the tension building and building until it snaps. You moan Aegon's name as you come, hips still raising towards his face as he moves back to your entrance, lapping up your release. You push against his head as you start to feel sensitive down there, vaguely aware of when he starts kissing up your body as you come down from your climax, nipping at the underside of your breasts before leaning up, your juices still glistening on his mouth and chin as he kisses you bruisingly, shamelessly tasting yourself on his lips. His hand comes to rest beside your head as he pulls back, the other, which had been resting on your stomach, starts to trail back down, fingers quickly enveloped by your warm, wet folds before plunging into you, drawing a groan from your lips.

His fingers thrust in and out at an agonizingly slow pace, pumping deeper into you than you had ever been able to reach yourself, his other hand stroking the side of your face as he takes in the way you squirm beneath him. "Aegon," you manage to gasp out, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit too much for you to handle, "I can't…" He tuts, slowly shaking his head.

"I think you can," He speaks soothingly, leaning down to place a kiss to your lips, "I think you've got another one in there for me," curving his fingers to brush against your most sensitive spot each time he pulls them out,  "you do, don't you pretty girl?" There's a disconnect from your mind and body as your head nods, in spite of the little whimpers of overstimulation his administrations are pulling from you.

"Yeah?" He nods with you, smiling down at the pathetic state you're in, body trembling from pleasure and tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you grip onto him, hair sticking to your forehead from sweat.

Obscene sounds fill the room as you start to feel that coil inside you tightening again, moans falling from your lips while he continues to thoroughly fuck you, skillful fingers picking up their pace when he notices the way you start moving your hips.

"Are you gonna cum?" He asks sweetly, already knowing the answer, "You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?" If his fingers weren't enough to pull you over the edge, his words sure were. The orgasm rips through you, back arching and eyes squeezing shut as every nerve in your body feels like it's being plucked like harp strings, moaning Aegon's name like a melody as he slows down, placing gentle kisses to your neck as he whispers praises to you.

"That's it, pretty girl, just like that." The feeling that washes over you is like nothing you'd ever experienced, a complete override of your senses as the entirety of your body feels like it's burning and being doused with cool water at the same time, like floating and drowning, the only thing you can do is hold onto him for dear life as your mind races to understand this pleasure.

It feels transcendent.

His lips are on yours as you start to come down from your high, hips rolling into you, his cock leaking precum onto your belly as he moans into your mouth. 

"Y/n," he whines against your lips, not caring at all how pitiful he sounds compared to how in control he was a moment ago, "I need you, please." You reach down and take hold of him, swiping your thumb over the tip, earning you a groan as you line him up to your entrance, shuddering as he sheaths himself fully inside your heat, over-stimulated from the two orgasms he had already given you. Tears begin to trickle down your face as you try to ignore the discomfort you feel everytime he slides in and out, desperately rutting into your squelching cunt as he digs his fingers into the doughy flesh of your waist, the other hand snaking up to lace his fingers with yours. You try to muffle your whimpers to no avail. He slows down, a near impossible task for him, you can tell by the strained look on his face as he rests his forehead against yours, staring down at your pained expression.

"Do you want me to stop, my dove?" My dove, the once mocking name he had come up with to poke fun at you for cooing after him, now said softly and sweetly, pouring from his parted, pink lips like honey. He leans down and kisses the stream of hot tears on your cheeks, nuzzling your nose with his, not rushing you to answer.

And for that you are very thankful, because your mind wants to tell him yes, that it's too much, that it's too painful. But your body wants something else. It wants to keep feeling his weight pressed on you, wants to keep feeling like you can't take anymore, wants to keep feeling the pain of his cock thrusting deep into you because in the midst of that pain is a small, burning pleasure growing in your core with every thrust. Your body, for some reason or another, is enjoying that pain. You stare into his eyes, wildflower hued irises full of concern. Shaking your head slowly, you bring your hand up to cup his jaw, tracing the dip in his chin. "Keep going."

He kisses you once before continuing to rut into you, albeit a bit gentler this time, resting his head in the crook of your neck while little moans fall from his lips. Bringing your free hand to the back of his head, you tangle your fingers into his cropped, pale locks, feeling the pain flooding your lower half with each snap of his hips, that small glowing ember growing as your walls start to clench around him. He grunts against your skin as his rhythm falters, his climax approaching fast as he plunges into you harder and deeper, something you wouldn't have thought was even possible if not for the pure pleasure it causes to spread through your body, the pain and ecstasy mixing together to drag you over the edge one last time. You come yelling his name loud enough for anyone passing by to hear, but you don't care. You can't care. Not when he's set your whole body on fire, legs trembling and cunt spasming deliciously around his cock as he continues to pound into you, dragging your orgasm out longer. Everything tingles as you hold onto him, your peak lessening to small but steady aftershocks when he jerks into you hard one last time, stilling with a whimper as his whole body goes rigid, spilling his seed deep inside you before letting the full weight of his body lay upon you, sucking in a deep breath. You both lay there for a while, your fingers trailing through his hair as he stays nestled in you, his softened member offering a dull yet pleasant ache. Small kisses are placed against your neck as he slowly starts to pull out, mindful of how sore you must be, moving to turn the both of you until your back is flush against his chest, the arm wrapped around you still interlaced with your fingers. A smile creeps its way to your lips as you feel his seed begin to trickle out of you.

"What happened to wanting to finish on my thighs?"

He huffs a laugh at your words, the breath tickling your neck as he presses a kiss to your shoulder, leaning forward to rest his cheek against yours.

"I suppose I'll just have to do that the next time," he says, fingers tapping and fiddling with yours.

"Next time?" The thought of him actually wanting to lay with you again had never crossed your mind, you were too busy thanking the gods for this once in a lifetime occurrence. A man like Aegon, a prince, the very image of what an angel walking among men would look like, wanting to spend his night with you even once was beyond anything you had more than dreamt about. And yet here he was, talking about the next time.

He curls his warm body around yours, giving you no need for a sheet or blanket.

"Don't tell me you're going to start teasing me now." He whispers back, "that's my job." You turn your head to find him peering at you, lilac eyes looking inquisitively into yours, the slightest furrow in his brow.

"So," you muster up the courage to say, finding it difficult to focus with his gaze on you like that, "this wasn't just...a one time thing?" Surprise floods his features, a smile tugging at the side of his mouth,

"Oh, I truly hope not, my dove." You can't help the blush that blooms on your face, made worse when he leans forward and kisses where it appears, tiny pecks to your nose and cheeks, smiling at your shy giggles.

"You know," He says after a few moments, eyes closed and head resting upon your shoulder, "this is a perfect example of why it's always good to be persistent. It has certainly worked for you."

-

-

Authors note: I wasn't intending to write a part 2, but I really wanted the sex lol. Also bare with me, I'm still new to writing smut so it's a bit iffy lol

[brightlilith]

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[lawrites]

A Softer Side

Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Female Reader

You are a Strong, and as such you have spent much time in the Red Keep with your Lord Father the Hand. After crossing paths with Aemond many times, you have forged an unlikely friendship at only ten-and-four.

This chapter is safe for all ages. There are some things that may be problematic such as a young betrothal (at 14), Targaryen incest sometimes mentioned, some self-deprecation and insults from other characters, (Especially "your" mom).

Other chapters will mention the terrible things that happen to the Strong family, Aemond's disfigurement, and once they are older may be suggestive or more. But for now they are kids and literally thinking of nothing but being happy with each other. This is more of a prologue to explain their relationship than anything, really.

I am not planning on following canon and allowing the dance to happen because this is a reader insert so like...why not be happy? Also book lore says Aemond was 10 when he lost his eye but I'm aging them up to 14 because betrothing people at 10 would be WILD. (14 is still wild but it's GOT so) Anyway, enjoy!

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You were luckier than your fellow noble girls in many ways...and yet unlucky in others. The Red Keep is your home, surrounding you with royalty of all kinds. Your mother told you before you left that it would be almost impossible not to make a good match, even at your age of ten-and-four and with your "plump" figure. No matter her words or her scoldings, it seemed like you just were inclined to be softer than others. It wasn't a crime, but for a noble girl in your time it may as well have been. You weren’t unlucky because of your softness, of course, your body is your body, but there are people that just don’t understand.

You walk just as much as the other girls, embroider, read, eat like them, and yet your body has decided that you must be bigger. In your own eyes, you suspect that it must be due to your "Stronger" genes. Yes, the daughter of someone who produced a hulking giant like Harwin and a smart, cunning whip of a man like Larys might also be unexpected in terms of body type. Lyonel was large, your mother was small, and it was only a coin toss to see which you would be.

Like your father, you seemed to retain weight in your middle. You are young, though, and according to your mother could "lose your baby weight at any day." You scoff and remind yourself that this may be the body you are in forever, which is fine by you. Either you find a lord that doesn't mind your weight or you don't, and you end up a maid. But those are the same options presented to every young girl in the kingdom, so you refuse to feel sorry for yourself.

Your father did see a lot of himself in you, though. Pitying and understanding glances thrown your way during your mother's lectures at dinner. If she ever revoked your food, your father would sneak up a plate to your room while Harwin kept watch. But with your father's position as Hand of the King, you were left alone with your mother more often than not. Eventually, you begged him to take you to the Red Keep with him, just as he did for Harwin and Larys. He could never seem to refuse you, and your mother agreed quickly as well.

Yes, you were lucky to be in the Red Keep and away from her now. It was your opinion that she wanted you out of her hair as much as you wanted out of her reach. And you did seem to come to your own when away from her. You stopped shrinking down at dinners or around others and began to straighten your back like a proper lady. The weight hasn't gone, just like you suspected, but that's alright with you. It at least keeps Aegon's interests away.

The elder son of Queen Alicent was cruel, and his face shows it each time he glances at you. He seems to hold almost a hatred towards any woman or girl that didn't fit within his type, and that decidedly includes you. Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys treat you like any other person, as their own mother has a figure like yours. But...Aemond...

Aemond was one of your best friends here. You were of similar ages and had initially met when you both waited outside the small council chamber for your fathers. Aemond would try to catch even a glimpse of Viserys as he stormed away from the meetings, while you would await your own father who would escort you either to the dining hall or your rooms depending on the time of day.

You began to speak quietly with Aemond outside the hall one day, surprised when he answered back. He is sweet, that much you can say, and soft-spoken. Many may call him reserved but you believe that to be fair after he has been ignored by his father and insulted by his brother and nephews. You began to invite him to eat with you and your own father after the meetings, wanting for him to not be as alone in the world.

He accepted the first time and would follow you with an unspoken look at each meeting from there on. He seemed to begin to open up to you and the Lord Hand, to a lesser extent. Your own father seemed to be impressed and proud of your ability to bring out a talkative and excitable side to the prince. You have always had a gift for relating to others and bringing out the best in them.

All you really had to do was observe and remember. You knew that Aemond likes to read, as you saw him under the Godswood with a book on many of your strolls, and you knew that he knows much of the history of the seven kingdoms. So, at the first dinner, you asked him about his favorite story. His eyes widened and, with a little prompting, he began to regale you of a tale of knights and princesses and nobility and dragons, of course. He said more words that night than your Lord Father had ever seen. And you listened intently, your hand on your chin and a small smile on your face. You found yourself happy when the prince was happy.

And he began to take more notice of you outside of your dinners as well...and you him, of course. He would glance up from his reading as he sat under the Godswood, waiting to catch a glimpse of you as you walked by. Eventually, he would even invite you to sit with him, asking if he could read to you. You accepted, and would sit next to him on his blanket, politely listening to his soft voice. Sometimes he would have you read to him, which gave him the ability to look openly at you as your eyes focused on the words.

It is a beautiful, peaceful moment such as that today. You are currently under the Godswood, allowing yourself to lay down by Aemond's side as he reads from a heavy tome. He seems to be taking pauses in between some paragraphs today, your eyes meeting as he glances down at you with a soft smile. You are, of course, unable to know his own thoughts, which center on how pretty you look with your hair shining in the sun, a soft, contented smile on your face. But near the end of the chapter, as he pauses once more, you glance up to see that he is not looking at you, but ahead.

You pull yourself up to rest on your elbows, shocked to see your own father and the King himself standing in the walkway, looking at the two of you. You and Aemond quickly get to your feet. He bows while mumbling out a "father" and you curtsy while welcoming his grace. Both of them have small smiles on their face, and Viserys almost seems...lighter...maybe even happier than you have seen him in a while.

They move on, leaving you and Aemond are a bit shaken. After sitting in silence for a moment, looking at each other with a slight awkwardness, Aemond slams the book closed as he moves to get up. "I-I am sorry, truly, but I must leave you now to practice." You nod with understanding, standing up and making a shoo-ing motion. "I understand, Prince, go on! Become Strong like me." You smile at him and show him your "Strong" arms by flexing. He laughs and his eyes light up with almost determination, "I-I will become S-Strong for you, you will see!"

He runs off, as you turn and roll your eyes at his enthusiasm, your heart feeling the warmth of content. You find yourself walking to your own practice with embroidery, humming to yourself as your shoes echo on the stones. Though it isn't as impressive as a sword, you were actually happy to be able to create something with your own hands and thread. It was frustrating at first, but like Aemond's sword fighting, you practiced.

You are proud of the progress you have made, and the other ladies like to gather and coo over your work. Currently, you have been embroidering a scene from Aemond's favorite story. The flags of the tournament were difficult to get as detailed as you wanted, but the knights are almost glinting in the sun thanks to your skill.

As you finish off a thread, you hear murmurs of "Lord Hand" and hear the clatter of rings being set down. You look up to see your father and quickly set down your work as well, rising to your feet. He smiles and grabs your shoulders. "My dear, I have a surprise for you at dinner tonight." Your face contorts in confusion as you are about to ask what, but your father shakes his head. "I cannot tell you until you join us, but I would like for you to go to your rooms and prepare yourself instead of meeting us outside the small council chambers. Put on your best dress, make sure your hair is presentable, possibly take a bath after laying in the dirt..."

He scrunches up his nose in an obvious jest and you both laugh. You nod your head, ever the dutiful daughter, and pick up your embroidery. Your own father prefers to lead you to your rooms, (with Harwin being close behind if he was available), as it gives him time to discuss your opinions of the Red Keep and your happiness as you walk. "Now, what have you been making here?" He asks as you leave the room.

You try to hide the embroidery but he snatches it from your hands. "Ah! I recognize this well. You have a talent, my dear. Or...at least I believe you do. I know not of embroidery myself." He smiles and you giggle. "But what made you so fixated on creating this scene in thread?"

You blush and look down as you continue to walk, fixating on your shoes. "Oh. Well...Prince Aemond's name-day will be here before we know it. I...I wished to have a gift for him, and so...I made him his favorite scene from his favorite story."

Your Lord Father nods as you continue to look down, his face showing almost triumph as his assumption was right. He remembers that first meal with Aemond just as well as you do. You look up to him, your hand reaching out for your work. He gently places it into your hand, and you look at it as you speak. "Will Aemond be alright if I do not meet him as usual after the small council meeting?"

Your Father smiles as he looks down at you, "Yes, I will meet him and escort him to our dining room." He places his hand on your shoulder. "Do not worry, my child, he will understand your delayed arrival soon." You nod and look up at your door as you reach your chambers. The doors swing open under your hands, and you allow yourself one glance back for reassurance at your father before you close them behind you.

You find your father had arranged for a few handmaidens and a hot bath to be ready for you, and you gladly sink into the fragrant water as your hair is quickly unbraided and gently washed. Once you are clean, you dry off and then step into your best chemise and dress. As your handmaidens braid your drying hair neatly once more, you run your hands nervously over your front, feeling your soft middle.

The handmaidens help you with the finishing touches to your look, catching flyaway hairs and wrangling them into place. They also give you just a hint of perfume your mother had sent with you, the smell reminding you of home. Once they are finished, the sun is falling behind the ocean, and you must head to dinner.

You find your own brothers standing outside your room once you exit, both Harwin and Larys looking towards you. Harwin smiles with his entire face and seems to want to give you one of his all-encompassing bear hugs, but Larys gently places a hand on his chest. "Not yet, brother. She must be presentable for the dinner." You smile gratefully at Larys, knowing that he thinks more deeply about things sometimes than Harwin.

He gives you a very cryptic glance back. It is almost a smile, but guarded. Though you spend more time with Harwin, you always enjoy time with Larys. His advice was what kept you sane in the Red Keep when whispers about your body followed you in your first few weeks. Though his struggle is much different than yours, you both are able to commiserate and get advice from the other. You worry that, as a girl of ten-and-four, you cannot even begin to give Larys any useful advice...but he sometimes seems to be comforted just by your understanding and listening ear.

He continues to give you the cryptic look as he softly speaks, "Good luck, little sister." And you hear his cane clack against the stone as he moves in the opposite direction. Harwin shakes his head a bit and grabs your shoulder in comfort, telling you that you look beautiful as you walk down the stairs and towards the hall.

"Harwin?" He glances down at you. "Why is this dinner different? Did I do something wrong?" Harwin moves to your front and kneels in front of you as he grabs your shoulders, stopping you from entering the dining room just yet. "You have done nothing of the sort." His eyes are open and loving. "You are a wonderful daughter for our father and a kind sister. Anyone would be happy to be counted amongst your acquaintances. Remember that." You nod, confusingly, as Harwin nods back and stands up. You did not notice upon first glance, but Kingsguard are stationed at the door.

They open the doors for you, and Harwin places his hand on your back to lead you into the room. Your face of confusion turns to shock as you see King Viserys where you do not expect him for the second time today. Queen Alicent is by his side at the head of the table, and a quick glance to Aemond shows his look of shock as well. (Though you do not know that he is more shocked at your beauty than his own father) You quickly curtsy as you are announced, looking to the King and Queen and doing your best to give them your Graces.

The King smiles and points to a spot next to Aemond. "Please, join us young one." You glance to your father and he nods. Usually you sit across from Aemond, but tonight would be different, it seems. You walk to your seat and are surprised to see Aemond stand up and pull it out for you. You blush, thank him, and sit down, letting him push your chair back in.

The King gives a slight toast to "new friends and the Strong bond between family" and begins to dig in. You glance to your father who has also begun to eat, taking it as your own cue to do so as well. You find a singular piece of potato that interests you, spearing it with your fork. The voice of your mother spears through you in much the same way, "Must you be so happy to eat, child? At least appear as if food holds nothing to you even if it is clear to everyone that it does."

You slowly bring it up, trying not to appear too hungry, and eat, glancing over at Aemond to see that he is also unable to eat with his usual fervor. At least you weren't alone in your lost appetite. Your father clears his throat and you look to him. "So, my dear daughter, would you like to discuss your day as usual with Aemond?" As straightforward as ever, your father. You nod but glance in what you think is an imperceptible way towards the King.

He chuckles as your eyes meet. "Oh, she is a bit frightened of me, it seems, Lyonel." You blush a bit, feeling ashamed that the King can tell. "Just pretend I am not here, child." You find yourself speaking without even thinking, "Pardon, your Grace, but that is easier said than done." You shock yourself and look down to your plate in shame, before you hear the King let out a loud, surprised laugh.

"Very well said and observed." You look up once more to see that his face is full of mischief. "Then instead, pretend that I am an old man who cares not of the manners of court for the time being." You stay quiet, causing the Queen to interject. "My dear, we are your friends here. You may discuss whatever you want freely with Aemond."

She gives you a gentle smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes as you turn from her to Aemond. He is blushing heavily at this point, and you try to very slowly and gently grab his hand in support. He looks to you and you begin to speak in a soft voice. "H-how was training today, Prince Aemond?"

He looks to you and then to his father...then down to his plate. "O-oh. Well...I was k-knocked down by Aegon once more. Many times, in fact." You feel his shame, and the urge to comfort him makes you truly forget about the King. "Aemond, that is alright. You are younger." You smile and continue, "And besides, the best knights learn from their mistakes and losses and use them to become Strong."

He turns to you in thankfulness, "S-Strong like you?" You nod, "Exactly, Strong like me!" And you pick up your arm, showing him your "muscles." He giggles and you smile and then you remember where you are. You slowly look to the King and your Father, lowering your arm and blushing at forgetting your manners and behavior. The King begins to eat again, saying through a mouthful of food, "Well, go on."

You feel so ashamed that now you are the one who cannot speak, and Aemond instead is the one who talks. "My Lady Strong, what have you done today?" He squeezes your hand and seems to be looking only at you. You inhale and respond. "Well, you know I embroider as all Ladies in court do, but that must bore a Prince such as yourself."

Aemond shakes his head. "Nothing that you do bores me, My Lady." He has slightly reddened cheeks as he continues, "You are interesting in everything that you do...to m-me that is." He smiles at you, truly this time, and you smile back.

"Well, that is good to know, My Prince." You have completely forgotten about the royalty in the room once more, basking in just talking with your dearest friend. "I will bring a nice, dusty old tome from the Maester's Library to read tomorrow at the Godswood. It should thrill you to hear about all of the proceedings of court from times of peace."

You muster up your best proper voice and continue, "Yes, and on the 12th day of millions of years ago, a King decided to have tea with his friends. They spoke at length with each other and then retired to their rooms." You collapse a bit into your normal posture and use your normal voice once more. "Quite riveting, if I am not mistaken."

Aemond truly laughs, his own thoughts away from his father watching over him. Then he looks at you with open enthusiasm. "If I am to hear about it from you, then I do not mind." He squeezes your hand once more, "You have a way of making history interesting to me."

A jarring sound of utensils being set down brings you both from your conversation, and you suddenly, again, remember that the King has been watching you with his son the whole time. You look to him apprehensively, expecting to get a lecture about respect towards history or the Prince. But instead you see his face still holds his previous smile.

"Well, it seems my Lord Hand is right once more, wouldn't you agree, my dear?" He looks to the Queen, who slowly nods. "It does appear that, though we thought him to be biased..." She glances with almost coldness at your father, "...he once again does his best to give you an accurate reading of circumstances." She looks to her son at the end of her sentence, and notices your joined hands. She seems to soften a bit, almost unable to keep up any pretense.

She looks to the King. "I say that the Strong's have been excellent allies to the court and..." She pauses, "...Lord Strong has been a decent Hand of the King these years." She gathers herself. "I await your decision, Lord Husband."

You stop for a moment...decision? But The King stands, with a bit of difficulty, and the rest of the table follows suit. He grins at his son and begins, "I believe that the best way to reward years of service and ensure continued loyalty would be the joining of House Strong and House Targaryen." He brings up his goblet in a motion for a toast, and you all follow suit. "I, Viserys Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do hereby join my own House and House Strong by betrothing mine own son Aemond Targaryen to Lady Y/N of the House Strong." Your eyes open wide in shock, unable to even move as he continues his speech, "...you will be wed once you turn ten-and-eight, and from then on you will be bound. We all hope your union to be one of joy and prosperity." He brings up his goblet to drink and everyone follows, with the exception of you and Aemond.

You glance over and him and notice that he has already been looking to you, a blush on his face. He gives you a small smile and motions to your cup. You hurriedly bring it to your lips to mirror the King's movements, and he does the same. Once the toast is finished you all sit down, the King leading in his own stead. He looks to you both and speaks, "It does seem that the two of you already have a bond of friendship."

You feel your face heating up but continue to look to the King. "You know, the best marriages are built based on not only duty, but friendship and love." The King seems to deflate then, lost in his own thoughts. The Queen worriedly holds his arm and you take hold of Aemond's hand in comfort once more.

"I-I seem to be ready to retire for the night," The King almost whispers. There have been rumors around the court of his failing health. He seems to lose himself and his energy even after the smallest of exertions. The Queen nods to the guards and they all summon around the King, ready to escort him. Viserys looks to you both once more before he leaves the room, and his eyes seem to hold such sadness as he softly speaks, "My son, treat her well."

And with that, the doors shut, leaving you, your Father, and Aemond alone once more. Your father clears his throat and calls for your brother to enter the room. Surprisingly, both Larys and Harwin enter, and they join you as you all take a seat once more. Food is brought for them, and they begin to eat, Harwin glancing between both Aemond and your own untouched plate.

Aemond seems to shrink a bit under his critical gaze, but he also looks to see that you haven't eaten much. He squeezes your hand and looks at you with imploring eyes. "My Lady, won't you eat? You cannot stay Strong without it, you know." He tries to grin but his own worry is palpable through his attempt at humor.

You shake your head in disbelief, "I-I cannot find myself able to even think of hunger at the moment after...after..." You look to him. "...So...we are to be betrothed then? Just like that?"

Aemond seems to shrink even more, releasing your hand. "I am sorry if I was not the person you had wanted." He almost whispers now. "I know that I do not even have a dragon. I cannot be the best for you."

Your eyes widen, understanding how Aemond could misunderstand your question. The pause in the sounds of cutlery against plates makes you look to your family, who had indeed stopped eating to listen in. You glare at all of them, especially at Harwin, who brings up his hands in surrender and continues to eat. The sounds give you a bit of cover.

You grab his hand gently, trying to hold it tight so he can't escape again. "My prince," you say lowly, "There is no one I would rather be with than you. I-" you pause, breathing in shakily. "...I was only worried that you would not be happy with me. I am not a great beauty nor from a Valerian House." You feel what Aemond had felt, now, wanting to draw your own hand away. "I cannot offer you what others could."

Aemond grips your hand tightly now and shakes his head. "No! No! I...I cannot think of another who has been here for me like you. Or another who I have wanted to share my time with such as you. You are my..." He pauses, "...my greatest friend. It is an honor to be betrothed."

You sigh, realizing that maybe friendship IS the best you could hope for from a Targaryen Prince in your marriage. You nod. "I agree wholeheartedly." He looks to your plate once more. "Then please eat for me, my betrothed. You deserve to be happy and taken care of. I-I will take care of you." Squeezing his hand, you take your utensils as directed. Your brother makes a disgusted sound and you look to Harwin, who rolls his eyes and pretends to gag.

You stick out your tongue at your much older brother's childish antics, and you decide that you will eat your food if for no other reason than to spite him and his disgust at your friendship with the Prince. Once finished, you stand up and announce that you will retire to your rooms. Harwin stands as well to escort you, but Aemond grabs your hand.

"Y-you wouldn't mind if I walked you there as well?" You shake your head and look to your father for approval. His face is full of such warmth and pride that it almost makes you want to run to your rooms to escape it, not used to being the center of such happy emotions. He nods, "Of course, Prince Aemond. Harwin will escort you both to my daughters chambers, where you can say goodnight."

You gently take Aemond's outstretched hand with a blush. He at least was doing his best to appear to be the perfect betrothed, and you would do the same. Though you know that it will not be difficult to try on your part. You walk in silence, mainly, Harwin occasionally chuckling lowly, causing you to glare at him. Once you reach your chambers, Aemond brings you in front of him, holding both of your hands.

He looks nervously at Harwin, and you glare up at him once more, signalling him to turn with your head. He rolls his eyes and turns his back on the two of you, crossing his arms. Aemond smiles softly at you, his eyes shining. "Would you close your eyes for me, my Lady Strong." You do, giving him a small smile in return. You feel his breath on your cheek for only a moment before his lips replace it, you eyes opening in shock as you see the Prince give you a chaste kiss on the cheek.

He pulls back and his cheeks are bright red, you bring one of your hands from his to feel your face, which is warm as well. You almost feel as if your body is made of some sort of ice that can melt into the floor when his free hand caresses your face where he kissed it. "G-goodnight, my Lady Strong."

You softly respond, "Goodnight, my Strong Prince."

He blushes, looks down, and releases your hands, allowing you to enter your room. You glance back at him once more to see him watching you intently, you wave, and close the doors behind you.

Filled with childish glee that one almost never gets to experience in a world such as the one you inhabit, you rush to your bed and grab one of the soft pillows, using it to mask your squeal of happiness. Aemond would be your Husband. Aemond would be your HUSBAND! Even if he would never love you as you him, it would be so much easier to move through life with him by your side. Your handmaiden looks on in happiness, herself, before tapping you on the shoulder.

As you babble to her about the day, acting like the child you are for the first time around her, you get ready for bed. You are so excited from thoughts of your future rushing through your head that you cannot even think to get to sleep. It is, of course, not your fault that you couldn't see the future. Perhaps if you could, you might have worked to stop what was already in motion. Though realizing it was out of your control, you might have felt dejected.

At least, you might have forced yourself to calm down and sleep, as it would become very difficult for you to do so in the very near future, as a deep, dark dread is approaching on the horizon. For your family, especially.

[shesjustanothergeek]

Hey besties! I'm a 21-year-old teenage girl who likes to remain anonymous on here because of her digital footprint and all that, so you can call me Geeky. I love to write for Marvel, Star Wars, House of The Dragon (specifically Aegon and Aemond), and anything about Adam Driver and his characters! I'm focused on my current fic, His Love, so that's mainly what I'm writing for now.

My requests are OPEN to anything related to the fandoms mentioned above!

Key: Complete=Finished, Ongoing=Currently Writing, WIP=Not Published But Will Be Soon

All Things Adam Driver

Living In the Moment |Jack Gladney x Fem!Reader| (complete)

Rapture |Jack Gladney x Fem!Reader| (complete)

The Most Tragic of Mistakes |Charlie Barber x Fem!Reader| (ongoing)

Ruined |Jacques le Gris x Fem!Reader| (complete)

Let Me Into Your Heart |Mafia!Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader| (ongoing)

House of The Dragon

His Love |Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader| (ongoing)

The Gods We Can Touch |Aemond Targaryen x Strong!Reader| ft. Yandere Aegon and Alicent (wip)

The Blood of Eden |Lucifer!Aemond Targaryen x Eve!Reader| (complete)

Marvel

Hunger |Venom/Eddie Brock x Plus Size!Reader| (wip)

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Updates on my requests and other writing stuff!!

I haven't been very active on here (or with my writing) for a while, so I wanted to give people a little update. stuff that i've started writing is in bold letters

Requests

Soap x plus-sized!reader in a coffeeshop AU (requested by @ghostsoapgirl) i love this request so much!!! i've written quite a bit, but need to get around to the smut part :)

Continuation on the Soap x medic!reader series (requested by anon) haven't started on this yet, but once inspiration hits me, i'll continue this series for sure!

Judith x reader fluff (requested by @levithestripper) i promise i haven't forgotten about this! love, love, love judith so i'll try to get around this soon

angsty Harwin Strong x reader (implied cheating, betrayal etc etc, requested by anon) as of now, i have mixed feelings about this one tbh... i don't really know how to get around writing this just because my first thought when thinking of a cheater is homicide, but yk... i'll get there

platonic geralt x anxious!reader (requested by @catgoblinchelly) i love this idea, and especially that it's platonic, but i've barely written three lines :')

Vikings + opinions on modern day christmas things (requested by @demon-of-the-ancient-world) by the time i post this, it'll probably be july, but i love the request!!

Geralt x sorceress!reader with these prompts: "Are you really blind enough to not see the sparkles in her eyes when she’s staring at you?” & “When I’m with you, I almost feel normal.” (requested by anon) as always, i'll probably takke creative liberties with the prompts, but omg this is gonna be so fun to write

Witcher characters x maleficent!reader (requested by anon) love the concept!

Criston Cole fucking Daemon's wife or ex-wife (requested by anon) RAHHH ANON YOUR MIND IS FUCKING GINANTAMOUS LOVE LOVE LOVE UNREALISTIC SMUT SWEEP LET'S GOOO!!!! i also cannot get this image out of my head for some reason 🧍‍♀️

vikings + ivar being a remembered figure in history (requested by anon) i love this as well!! it's such an interesting concept

Stuff that I came up with at 2am and haven't finished

Oneshot: Snowfall; Simon Riley x formerfosterkid!reader (this is getting out of hand)

Oneshost: Affair; John Price x married!reader (john price hottest dom sweep)

Stuff that I've finished but don't really wanna post (idek)

Aegon Targaryen NSFW Alphabet (i was horny i'm sorry)

Corlys Velaryon NSFW Alphabet (no excuses here, he's a GILF)

A bunch of Hand turns Loom drafts that make me want to get a lobotomy)

[arcielee]

Zȳha lyks

Summary: You find an ally with the second son of King Viserys. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Reader Word Count: 2.4k+ Warnings: AFAB Reader, fat phobia, kissing, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, overstimulation, loss of virginity implied. Author's Note: This story is based on this request:

I definitely tweaked it a bit but I hope you enjoy it.💜 Thank you to my beloved beta reader @annikin-im-panicin for your insight with this peace and to @azperja for your emojis 💜 Valyrian translations: Zȳha lyks is his peace 💜 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💜

It was your father’s ambition to weave himself in the inner circle of the crowned princess that pulled you away from Claw Isle, leaving your brother behind to step into the role vacant for House Celtigar. During your journey, your father would repeatedly impress the importance of absorbing the tutoring of the maesters, to learn of your ancestral history before it had been so diluted by the blood of Westeros…but he was also adamant that you were to take advantage of your social seating, to make worthwhile and lifelong allies while in King’s Landing. 

You were quick to note the marionette strings that Prince Aegon held, allowing the Strong bastards to hold their heads high with their snide comments on how they found you, “pleasantly plump enough,” or so they supposed. 

It cut through your skin and burrowed into your heart, but your face never betrayed your anger nor your hurt. Instead, you went to your father with your heartache but his response was almost flippant about your torment. 

“Our blood stems from the veins of Old Valyria,” your father now spoke of this as a fact, as something without any room to argue against. “They are our kinfolk and we seem destined to intertwine our blood with the blood of the dragon.” 

But on this day you pushed aside your father’s words the moment you saw Prince Aegon and his puppets shift their collective cruelty onto the second son of King Viserys, Prince Aemond Targaryen. 

He was a quiet, sullen boy, who always seemed sunkissed and kept his large, lavender eyes downcast. You saw how his pain curved his posture, a hooded melancholy draped across his slouched shoulders. He blanched as the boys retrieved the Pink Dread, his freckles stark on his porcelain skin. 

Their gibe laughter echoed within the Dragon Pit and it boiled your blood, urging your steps forward to push past the brunette pair of princes and towards the puppeteer. Aegon’s brow raised, amused with your flushed fury that was staining your features, quick to sneer his comment on how, “–perhaps this swine could be mounted in–” but it stopped once your balled fist cracked into his nose. 

Your satisfaction trilled up and down your spine with the pop of cartilage, watching as he cupped his face and the crimson that poured between his fingers. His wounded howl called back the Dragonkeepers and the White Cloaks assigned to them, all horrified at the sight. You were in trouble, undoubtedly, feeling the large hand that curled around your wrist to drag you back to your father. You dared look at Aemond, catching the upturn quirk of his mouth, the glitter in his eyes that met with your own.   

It began a bond with the foundation of a mutual disdain, a hatred that would be solidified with events at Driftmark. 

The events that followed that fateful night were flurried: the crowned princess all but fled the capital with her new husband and children, while your father decided to uproot and follow after. This had been halted by the queen’s request, behest of her daughter Princess Helaena, asking if you would remain as one of her ladies and confidants. 

It was something that could not be denied and you found yourself alone with Helaena, her first request was for you to bring a book to her brother, who had since been boarded up in his room to recover. 

“Am I to read to him?” You peered up from the cover to Helaena. “What if he does not wish to see me?” 

“I believe this book and its company would interest him,” she glowed with her sweet smile, “I believe he would enjoy the change in narration, as our maester is rather monotone,” was all that she offered. 

At first, Aemond had been hesitant of your company, bashful of the bloodied bandages that required to be tended to, but you showed to be steadfast, unflinching, but with a sense of empathy without the effortful pity that came from everyone else. You saw how he warmed as your visitations turned habitual, with you joining with his lessons and remaining when the maesters left. Helaena would slyly dismiss you for the day and this allowed Aemond to help you practice your shared ancestral tongue, or listen to whatever tome caught your attention in the library, even delving into bits of gossip or updates that pertained to his dragon. 

“Vhagar flies over once a day. I assume it is to check on you,” you informed him one afternoon, “and she rests on the outside of the city walls, overlooking the bay.” 

His cheeks pinked with his shy admittance, “I can feel her.” 

You could not help your smile in return. Whereas Helaena was always sweet and always kind to you, and even Aegon had a newfound respect in your regard, you found it was the second son of King Viserys that allowed you to find a sense of comfort that you thought had been left at home. 

Aemond recovered, as you knew he would, and you still remained at his blindside as he reacclimated to his new depth perception. He began to wear an eyepatch over his scarred socket, its wrathful red line curling above and below, along with his apprehension to the whispers of the court about the marred Targaryen prince. 

“You are the rider of Vhagar, with the blood of the dragon in your veins,” you reminded him, your own blood rising to the surface. “Pay them no mind.” 

Aemond listened to you, as he always did, focusing his determination on relearning his world with his handicap. You watched as he grew tall, his sinewy frame becoming taut under his fitted tunic and slacks, a result of the countless hours he spent training with Ser Criston. He matured with a severity etched into the marble he seemed to be chiseled from, though you still would see a perpetual smirk that would play across his lips. 

Your heart fluttered until it bruised against your breastbone when he shyly asked that you would walk on his right side. “I wish to be able to see you,” he murmured and you burned with his words. Aemond showed consideration to match his gait with your steps and you enjoyed the heat that seemed to permeate from him; his large palm would cover your own, tucking it into the crook of his arm to keep you close at his side. 

Worthwhile and lifelong allies, your father’s mantra repeated in your mind, but on his eight and tenth nameday, you felt the thrum of an unknown emotion vibrating within you with his close proximity. 

His mother had gifted him a sapphire stone that was carved to fit where his eye once been, and when he focused his bicolored gaze on you–how the blue was brought out in his lavender eye with the complement of the gemstone, its amber flecks in the shine from the candles lit–did you feel the air pull from your lungs. 

You had never cared for the vicious tittering of the noblewomen and would find yourself arguing how Aemond was handsome still, as it seemed a quality trait that most Targaryen men possessed. But in that moment, as the warmth flooded your features from his steady stare that now bore through you, you began to grasp it to be so much more for you. 

Aemond misread your reaction, flinching to pull on his eyepatch with his apology: “I would never want to offend you–” 

Your hand reached with its own volition, touching his elbow to stop him. He paused and looked at you and you took a breath before you could manage to say, “Aemond, you are beautiful.” 

You burned from your boldness that was spilling from your tongue, your realization of what began as a mutual hatred for his nephews was on the precipice of something you knew you could not ignore. 

Aemond watched you, his eye flitting over, before he tucked his eyepatch into his pocket and then offered his elbow to you. “Come, Lady Celtigar, we should not keep them waiting,” his voice low, and only then did you notice the rose hue that touched his cheeks. 

After his celebration, it would be romanticized how the prince disappeared, taking Vhagar to fly to Claw Isle and demand your hand in marriage, against the Lord Hand’s protest for a more strategic pairing. Aemond would not be deterred and he returned with the intention to have you as his wife, which you graciously accepted. The ceremony that followed was intimate, steeped in the tradition of Old Valyria and sealed with a kiss that tasted of iron. 

It was then you felt a new shyness that swept through with your muted mortification of the intimacy that was now expected of you, that Aemond would see all of you. He always seemed to take pride with how you were dressed in your finery, gowns stitched to complement your buxom figure, but you soon learned that Aemond much preferred what was beneath the silk and lace. 

That night he would show you. He relished to peel away your layers, his mouth ravenous to taste your skin, his tongue licking to follow the natural slopes of your breasts and to the valley between. Aemond was panting with his anticipation, placing hot, opened mouth kisses to cherish your every curve, with gentle nips of his teeth that left blooms of rose as he continued towards your soft stomach and lower. He savoured your taste and how your body responded, how you were breathless, flushed, writhing beneath him. 

“Aemond,” you gasped as he nestled between your plush thighs. 

He shushed you, his breath warm against your silken folds, and it tickled in a way that caused you to squeeze his head between. His pleasure spilled with a low, guttural groan that rattled your bones beneath, but he would never pull away, as you would learn.   

Your fingers combed through his silver hair as he began to tease you, sparks licking the base of your spine as he drank your essence. His gentle touch fell in tandem with his tongue, a pacing that was harmonized with your sweet sighs, only quickening with the flutter of your walls. The sparks of pleasure flashed white with your peak shuddering throughout, pulsing around his digits that remained knuckle deep, coaxing you to completion. 

When your breath finally returned, you felt him grinning against your cunt. You found the muscle strength to tilt your chin down and meet with his eye blown, the shine of you on his smug expression. “One more for me, pretty girl,” his tone was low, commanding, his lips feathering your now swollen bloom of nerves. 

You were boneless and quivering from your second release and only then did Aemond shift to move on top of you, melting against the softness of your skin, fitting in a way that you never realized before was missing from you. 

He captured your mouth, his gentle thrusts filled you, completed you, and he trembled with his own reserve until you finally begged, “Aemond, my love, please, I need you–” that he rolled his hips against you, burying to the hilt with a rhythm that grew desperate. The litany that spilled from your lips as you clung to his shoulders, the flashes returning but with color from this new pleasure rekindling deeper within you.

That night, Aemond showed you the dragon that you were always aware thrummed beneath his practiced poise, something insatiable and wanting. He played the perfect gentleman in court, though his large hands always reached to touch, to grab whenever eyes were turned. You were his peace personified, decorated with love bites of your passion shared, the lifeline to his sanity that balanced on the edge of the coin flipped by the gods. 

And it was tested when the crowned princess returned to argue for the claimant of Driftmark. 

That night, the dinner had a palpable tension that the minstrels tried to drown with their music. Aemond held his gaze, piercing, loathsome, waiting for a moment to lash out, and that moment came served on a platter: a suckling pig that crackled still from the flames it had been removed from. 

You first noticed the crass snickering of Prince Lucerys that was followed by the swell of your husband’s anger, something you quickly abated with the gentle press of your hand to his forearm as you pushed to stand. The room halted, the attention trained to you as you made show to hold up your gilded cup. “Final tribute,” your sickly sweet tone began, “to the health of our nephews…” 

You knew that Aemond was watching, his agitation holding him rigid in his seat, his curiosity browed as you continued your insincerity, stating all three of their names with emphasis, “...each of them handsome, wise,” and your lips, stained by the wine, curled upwards, “Strong.” 

It was a rippled effect: the shock of the queen, the sharp eyes of the Lord Hand, the heated glare from the other end of the room, but it did not stop you. Instead you looked for the perpetual smirk that was now playing across your husband’s mouth. 

“Come now,” you gestured again with your goblet and even Aegon, with a dark chuckle, raised his own, “let us drain our cups to these three Strong boys.” 

“I dare you to say that again.”

Aemond pushed to stand, his ire returned with a force as he moved to wall you away from Jacaerys. “You dare raise your tone to my wife,” his wrath cut with each word, the fire in his blood pouring from him. “She only meant to compliment you… or do you not think yourself Strong?” 

It ended as quick as it had begun with Jacaerys thrown across the floor and a throaty chuckle from the back of Aemond’s throat. The clash of dragons was split apart by the White Cloaks and you watched your husband with a pride blooming in your chest, knitting with the love you now realized you had always carried for him: he was truly beautiful, squared off and fearless, his severity now furrowed onto his features that showed golden from the candles lit. 

You held your head high as you walked to grab his sleeve and his attention returned to you, to your touch, though his scowl remained splayed on the sharp edges of his face. You pulled him to leave, to return towards your bedchambers; Aemond brimmed with a passion that you knew needed a release and you would forever be willing to be that vessel for your husband.

Taglist (Tumblr kindred spirits): @aaaaaamond @annikin-im-panicin @watercolorskyy @black-dread @fan-goddess @httpsdoll @theromanticegoist @assortedseaglass @amiraisgoingthruit @theoneeyedprince @babyblue711 @itbmojojoejo @girlwith-thepearlearring @lauraneedstochill @theobjectofyourire @troublesomesnitch @hb8301 @snowprincesa1 @namelesslosers @darylandbethfanforever9 @helaelaemond

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