#aemond targrayen

[sapphire-writes]

A Second Chance

pairing: Aemond x Reader request: Hello! Sorry to bother you but i have a little idea that came from all the reblogs you recently made! basically Aemond is away so Alicent requests that reader! Comes back after a long time to the red keep because she wants to see her boy happy 🥺 of course its just a simple start but would love to see nice Alicent helping his baby ~ anonymous

warnings: none! this has the tiniest amount of angst but mostly fluff word count: 1.4k note: loved this, loved writing emotional Aemond & your messages are NEVER ever a bother! 💚 masterlist

“I was ever so sorry to hear of the death of your lord husband, Lady (Y/N),” Alicent said, giving you a look full of a mother’s compassion, “and so unfortunate he should leave you so quickly after you wed.”

You take a sip from your cup. The Queen had invited you to the capital and you had been delighted to return. Ever since you arrived your eyes had been searching for Aemond.

You had both left on such harsh terms those several years ago when your betrothal had been announced. You had been missing him for years, feeling as though a very piece of your own heart had been missing. 

“Thank you, your grace,” you tell her, speaking softly.

Your lord husband had been a kind man. Married to you as an alliance for your families and that was all. He was nearly twice your age, but he had been sweet to you. 

“My son has missed your presence,” Alicent tells you. 

“I was hoping to see the prince,” you said, heart rate increasing. 

Alicent nods, looking off to the side. Your smile falters as the realization washes over you at her hesitant glance.

“Aemond does not know I am here,” you tell her. It is a statement, not a question. 

Alicent struggles to keep the smile on her face. She brought her hand to yours, squeezing it gently. 

“I thought perhaps we shall surprise him,” she says softly.

“I do not think he wishes to see me,” you tell her, and feel a slash of pain in your heart. The wound is still fresh, though the years had passed. 

“Tell them not to let me go,” you had begged him, chasing him down an empty corridor. 

The one-eyed prince had stopped his long strides turning to face you. 

“Tell them you wish to marry me,” you had begged.

Aemond had been silent for many moments. 

“I cannot tell them what is not true.”

You remembered it as though it had happened yesterday. The cold look in his eye, so unlike that of which he usually awarded you. None of the kindness you had grown to love. 

“He does,” Alicent insists, “he has been terribly lonely these past years. Growing more resentful each day. I worry about him.”

In truth, you had never stopped thinking of Aemond. He plagued your thoughts at every moment. 

You blink away the tears that gather in your eyes.

“He shall be returning soon,” Alicent tells you, “join us for supper tonight, please.”

Her thumb continues to stroke the back of your hand, a hopeful look is in her eyes. You nod in agreement. 

Aemond remembered watching you go, the way your eyes had filled with tears. The look of betrayal on your face. That most of all. That has haunted most of his days since your departure. 

In truth, he had wished to marry you. But duty is often in conflict with matters of the heart. And duty demanded he remained unwed. 

And though it pained him to do so, he had to let you go. 

Aemond walks quickly to his chambers, eager to bathe and dress before joining his mother for dinner. The days have been long, and there is no feeling like that of being home. 

He hisses as he lowers himself into the tub, the hot water nipping at his pale skin. Aemond wishes to be done quickly, he doesn’t like being alone with his thoughts. He finds himself constantly training, reading, researching, and doing anything to distract himself from the constant thoughts that plague him.

You. 

It has been years since he last saw you since you last spoke. He supposed you must have several children by now. This did not make him sad, he hoped you had children to brighten your life. 

Aemond readied himself before making his way to his mother’s chambers. It was to be a small affair for supper that evening, as Aegon was entertaining some guests from the west. 

“Aemond,” Alicent said, as he arrived. She embraced her son whom she had not seen in several months. 

“It is good to see you, mother,” he said.

“I have missed you,” she told him, “I have invited a guest for dinner..”

“A guest?” Aemond questions, as the door opens. 

He turns and his breath catches in his throat as he sees you in the doorway. Your eyes are wide as you take him in. Aemond looks good, taller perhaps if that is possible. Leaner, the entirety of him is ropey muscles. He is handsome as ever, eyepatch securely covering his ruined eye. Aemond’s lips part.

“Hello Aemond,” you say softly smiling. 

“Lady (Y/N) has agreed to join us for supper, isn’t that lovely?” Alicent says, placing a hand on her son’s arm. 

Aemond jerks his head in a nod causing Alicent to smile. 

“I shall be but a moment,” she says, starting toward the door. She stops to caress your cheek, before leaving the room, the door clicking shut behind her. 

You inhale a shaky breath. 

“Are you well?” you ask as Aemond continues to stare, a rather innocent expression on his normally harsh face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks, his voice hoarse. You wet your lips wringing your hands together. 

“Your mother invited me to the capital,” you tell him, “I did not know you had no part in the invitation.”

“My mother?” Aemond said, shaking his head. Of course, his mother. The hopeless romantic who always wanted more for her children than the hand she had been dealt. You nod. 

“She wished to offer her condolences,” you continue, walking towards the fireplace. You reach for a grape that lays on a golden tray. Aemond’s brow furrows.

“Condolences?” he asks, watching you pop the grape into your mouth. You chuckle.

“Shall you speak in questions all evening, my prince?” you tease before answering his question.

“My late husband has passed,” you inform him. A moment of pause lingers between you. 

“I am sorry to hear that,” Aemond says, “I do hope your children are weathering alright?”

You meet his eye, a blush beginning to creep onto your cheeks. Aemond wishes he could place his hands upon your cheeks, to feel the burning that resides underneath your smooth flesh. 

“We were not blessed with children,” you tell him, “my lord husband was not well, for the majority of our marriage.”

“Did he treat you well?” Aemond asks, voice turning to a tone of concern.

“Oh yes,” you assure him, “yes, he was very kind to me. But-”

You find yourself struggling to speak, struggling to find the right words.

“He did not love me,” you decide, “he did not desire me. It was a quiet marriage.”

Aemond is watching you carefully. How foolish he had been to let you slip from his fingers. The gods are good, they must be repaying him for his suffering in some way by returning you to him. By offering him a second chance. 

“I would,” Aemond says softly.

He walks over to you until he stands directly before you. 

“I would love you, I would desire you,” he tells you, “I do, I always have.”

Your eyes fill with tears and you shake your head. 

“You don’t have to say that-”

“I do, and I was a fool,” he continues, taking your hands in his, “I was a fool to let you leave when I loved you. I have loved you and continue to love you.”

The tears are freely flowing down your cheeks, dripping past your chin and onto the stone floor.

“There has not been a day that goes by where I do not think of you,” he continues, “there is not a corner of this world I could fly to where I did not see your face. In every passerby, in the light of the moon. You are everywhere. You are all-consuming.”

“Aemond,” you beg, not sure exactly if you wish him to stop or keep speaking. 

“I love you,” he insists, fingers digging into your waist. 

You bring your hands to his chest, pulling him towards you and connecting your mouths. The kiss is desperate and passionate, making up for the lost time. Aemond can feel the coolness from your tears caressing his face, and you start to laugh against his mouth. 

He kisses you again and again, swallowing the happy laughter that pours from your sweet lips. 

Queen Alicent stands outside the room, back pressed against the wood of the door, listening to your whispers, and laughter. She places a hand against her heart and closes her eyes, happy that her son has found the love he so longed for. 

note: hope you enjoyed I love me a good love confession, especially from our fave one-eyed prince 🥹

[undertheorangetree]

Under the God’s Eye

The Epilogue

Summary- Everyone has adjusted back to life nine months after the God’s Eye.

Warnings- MDNI 18+ NSFW. Female reader. Me once again having no idea how lawyers work. Domestic and work place fluff. Vaginal fingering. Handjob. P in V sex. Overstimulation.

Author’s Note- I lied before I wrote an epilogue. The idea came to me on my commute and I was feeling fluffy. Full chapter on AO3!

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“I managed to find the Hill files for you,” she tells Rhaenyra as she pulls the beige folder out from under her arm. “They were buried in one of Otto’s filing cabinets. How they got there, I have no idea, but…”

Rhaenyra smiles as she takes the folder from her, flipping it over and scanning through the loose leaf pages inside before giving a curt nod. “Thank you, you’re a life saver. Have you taken lunch yet?”

“Not yet.”

Another nod. “Go take your hour. I’m not sure how long we’ll be here tonight but I imagine you’re going to need it.”

There is no need to tell her twice. With a bouncy nod, she leaves Rhaenyra’s office and makes her way down the hall, sensible heels clicking against the linoleum. There’s a line of windows that lead away from Rhaenyra’s office and she steps from shadow to shadow, the spring sunshine outside leaving warm sun spots in its wake.

Her own small office is not far from Rhaenyra's and she makes a quick pit stop to fetch her water bottle and thermos from her purse before shutting the door behind her and continuing down the hall.

She has enjoyed working at Targaryen and Hightower just as much as she assumed she would these past few months. It is difficult work, to be sure. Long hours on top of her final semester at school, countless mugs of coffee, and cups of noodles late at night when she finally trudges through the door, but it is just as rewarding as she thought it would be. Truthfully, despite the difficulties that have come from working at such a high end firm, she isn't sure she could be happier. Rhaenyra is the best boss she could ask for and a perfect role model for her to work toward. They have become reliant on each other and Rhaenyra has made it a habit to come to her for what seemed to be anything and everything. It should feel more like an assistant position she thinks, but the older woman has never treated her as anything less than an equal, often asking for her opinion and taking her advice on more than one occasion.

She does not see much of Viserys Targaryen or Otto Hightower, both too occupied with their own cases to ever give her much mind, but she doesn’t mind as there is someone else she sees far more often.

Her fist raps against Aemond’s office door, listening carefully before pushing it open slowly. He’s sitting at his desk staring at his laptop screen, one hand braced next to his good eye as he squints it, likely trying to chase away blurry vision. It darts up when it catches sight of movement and the side of his mouth quirks up in a smile when he sees her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” she greets, shutting the door behind her before pressing her back against it. “What are you doing?”

He sighs, squeezing his eyes shut as he leans back in his chair. “Looking over the sales accounts for the Westerling case. It’s melting my brain.”

“You were looking at those this morning. Isn’t it time to take a break?”

He’s shaking his head almost the moment she suggests it, leaning forward again to stare into the blue light. “No. I have to sort them out before tonight or granddad will kill me.”

She purses her lips but elects to say nothing, twisting her thermos lid open and pulling the collapsible fork from the top, straightening it before digging into her leftovers from the night before. It’s lukewarm at best but she does not mind it, watching Aemond as he blinks erratically. Though she winces in sympathy at the thought of the pain in his eye, the irritation exacerbated by the strain, she knows better than to comment on it. He will not take a break regardless of what she says and so she simply watches him while she eats.

He looks good like this, dressed in his white button up and silk tie, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. It has become a routine sight, one that she more than welcomes, and she shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Even from here, she can see the shadow of his eyelashes as they wash over his cheekbones, his lips pursed in half a pout that tells her that his frustration will soon get the better of him. There’s an empty coffee cup next to him and she takes it upon herself to make her way over to his Keurig, placing a pod in and positioning a mug beneath the spout before pressing the button.

She continues to stare at him as it brews, feeling only a little creepy for watching him so long. Whatever tan his skin had managed to soak in from the summer has long since left him, leaving him a little paler than she had gotten used to, and she wonders if he would be willing to go on a trip with her after graduation. To Qarth maybe, for the culture she knows the history buff in him will enjoy. Or maybe Dorne, to the Water Gardens. It would be nice, to go on a holiday with him again.

Read the rest here :)

Taglist: @backyardfolklore @docmartinis @watercolorskyy @barbieaemond @bellaisasleep @yentroucnagol @aemondsbabygirl @randomdragonfires @at-a-rax-ia @violetletovi @launotfound @helaenaluvr @solisarium @bellstwd @moonlightfoxx

[notyour-valentine]

Bad News ~ modern!Musician Aemond Targaryen

[Navigation] [Moonboard Masterlist][House of the Dragon Masterlist]

This offspring of the Targaryen Dynasty, which has shaped entertainment since Hollywood's infancy, has turned his back on the family business of movie making and opted to pursue a career in music instead, but has in doing so left his family name and legacy far behind him to make a name for himself and his craft.

Yet this notorious singer-songwriter is a far cry from the Prince Charmings this family has produced in the past, as he seems to be chasing controversies. But seeing the crowds and scores of fans he attracts, it seems unlikely this well-known bad boy could ever provoke a scandal big enough to shake himself and his multi-million dollar brand.

Notes: I got a little carried away on anon on @hotd-got-filth-love s incredible blog and created the LWD storyline with her *whoops* - well, here is Aemond's moonboard. LWD will get her own in due course and maybe a headcanon or two...

HOTD Taglist: @crazylokonugget @dangerousbluebirdpoetry @rapoficeandfire @sabii5 @itsdanajane16 @cynic-spirit @dark-night-sky-99 @partypoison00

[mejcinta]

Greens> Costumes> Humor top tier. 😂😂😂😂🤪🤪🤪🤪💚💚💚

[valaenatargaryensdragon]

Valaenatargaryensdragon Navigation

about me: (early) twenties, she/Her, Arab, Aquarius, Only child, Currently studying

information: writes for:

House of the Dragon: Daemon Targaryen, Aemond Targaryen, Aegon II Targaryen, Rhaenyra I Targaryen, Alicent Hightower, Viserys I Targaryen, Viserys III Targaryen, Helaena Targaryen, Jacerys Valeryon, Cregan Stark, Harwin Strong, Lucerys Valeryon

Game of Thrones: Daenerys I Targaryen, Jon Snow, Robert Stark, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Margaery Tyrell, Oberyn Martell

The Conquerors and Maegor: Visenya Targaryen, Rhaenys I Targaryen, Aegon I Targaryen, Maegor I Targaryen

Kinktober 2023-2024

Taglist

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON:

Aegon II Targrayen Masterlist

Aemond Targaryen Masterlist

Helaena Targaryen Masterlist

Alicent Hightower Masterlist

Viserys I Targaryen Masterlist

Jacerys Valeryon Masterlist

Lucerys’ Valeryon Masterlist

Rhaenyra I Targaryen Masterlist

Daemon Targaryen Masterlist

Cregan Stark Masterlist

Harwin Strong Masterlist

THE CONQUERORS AND MAEGOR:

Aegon I Targaryen Masterlist

Visenya Targaryens Masterlist

Rhaenys Targaryen Masterlist

Maegor Targaryen Masterlist

GAME OF THRONES:

Daenerys Targaryen Masterlist

Viserys III Targaryen Masterlist

Jon Snow Masterlist

Robert Stark Masterlist

Sansa Stark Masterlist

Arya Stark Masterlist

Margaery Tyrell Masterlist

Oberyn Martell Masterlist

[tessastormrp]

Aemond of House Targrayen

Dragonrider - Visually Challenged - Prince - Second Son - Father

☙ Team Green, though not very convincedly. He is mostly in things for his own gain.

☙ Not actually very interested in the entire conflict. He just does his duty and once the opportunity arises wants to defeat Daemon.

☙ Truly more interested in his own gain in situations.

☙ So he keeps his head down, makes sure Helaena is safe and happy and simply grows stronger.

☙ He is in fact, quite studious. He knows his Old Valeryan and the Histories, y'all.

☙ But he is also a fighter, proclive with sword, axe and whip.

☙ Abandonment Issues!!! Do not forcibly part him form Helaena!

☙ Does not like to be touched. Only Helaena can touch him. ☙ He has no squire, no grooms, nor any maids. And he only rarely allows masters to tend to him. ☙ He does almost everything himself and often also by himself.

Demisexual Only ships with Helaena. (and with the right mun/chem with Jace, Aegon and Daemond) If I find our muses have good chem, I'll let you know, but the chance of that is a small one

☙ Helaena's children are his.

☙ Not at all Vanilla ☙ Likes to be Choked ☙ A Spanker ☙ Slow body worship that lasts for hours, sometimes a days

AU's

Modern: Aemond is a student at College, selling half his medical weed and relying quite heavily on his service cat Vhagar. TBA

[fromtheboundlesssea]

I bet NGNM Daemon was quite pissed off and bewildered when NGNM Aemond ( half blood, and Hightower in his eyes) managed to do something no Targrayen has ever been able to do, claim the infamous dragon killer and eater The Cannibal. Man this flys in the face again about his “pure purity supremacy” mentality.

Yep

[moonlitgleek]

It is often believed that Daemon Targaryen survived the battle with his nephew Aemond and spent the remainder of his life in hiding with Nettles. Do you believe this to be true? If so, wouldn't that make Daemon an awful father? Also, do you think Daemon Targaryen's story of redemption is a mirror for Jaime's? He fell in love with Nettles (like Jaime fell in love with Brienne) and then ended Aemond's terror (like Jaime will eventually strangle Cersei).

Daemon Targaryen died alongside his nephew Aemond at the Gods Eye. Any other theory outright ignores the narrative says.

Even as Vhagar’s claws raked her belly open and Vhagar’s own teeth ripped away a wing, Caraxes bit deeper, worrying at the wound as the lake rushed up below them with terrible speed. And it was then, the tales tell us, that Prince Daemon Targaryen swung a leg over his saddle and leapt from one dragon to the other. In his hand was Dark Sister, the sword of Queen Visenya. As Aemond One-Eye looked up in terror, fumbling with the chains that bound him to his saddle, Daemon ripped off his nephew’s helm and drove the sword down into his blind eye, so hard the point came out the back of the young prince’s throat. Half a heartbeat later, the dragons struck the lake, sending up a gout of water that was said to have been as tall as Kingspyre Tower.

Neither man nor dragon could have survived such an impact, the fisherfolk who saw it said. Nor did they. Caraxes lived long enough to crawl back onto the land. Gutted, with one wing torn from his body and the waters of the lake smoking about him, the Blood Wyrm found the strength to drag himself onto the lakeshore, expiring beneath the walls of Harrenhal. Vhagar’s carcass plunged to the lake floor, the hot blood from the gaping wound in her neck bringing the water to a boil over her last resting place. When she was found some years later, after the end of the Dance of the Dragons, Prince Aemond’s armored bones remained chained to her saddle, with Dark Sister thrust hilt-deep through his eye socket.

Daemon plunged into the lake at a high speed alongside two dying dragons that were still tearing at each other. So hard was the impact that it sent up a shock wave as tall as a tower before the water began to boil. How can a person possibly survive that?

It’s only natural then that the story gives no credence to the tale of Daemon’s survival and instead makes the distinction that it is one favored by the singers who are prone to romanticize and embellish tales.

That Prince Daemon died as well we cannot doubt. His remains were never found, but there are queer currents in that lake, and hungry fish as well. The singers tell us that the old prince survived the fall and afterward made his way back to the girl Nettles, to spend the remainder of his days at her side. Such stories make for charming songs, but poor history. Even Mushroom gives the tale no credence, nor shall we.

But the next (and final) time we see Nettles certainly proves that this tale is wrong.

The bones scattered about the mouth of the cave might have given them pause, yet [Robert Rowan’s host] pressed on…and roused a dragon. Sixteen men perished in the fight that followed, and threescore more suffered burns before the angry brown wyrm took wing and fled deeper into the mountains with “a ragged woman clinging to its back.” That was the last known sighting of Sheepstealer and his rider, Nettles, recorded in the annals of Westeros…though the wildlings of the mountains still tell tales of a “fire witch” who once dwelled in a hidden vale far from any road or village. One of the most savage of the mountain clan came to worship her, the storytellers say; youths would prove their courage by bringing gifts to her, and were only accounted men when they returned with burns to show that they had faced the dragon woman in her lair

Nettles was alone, hiding in the Mountains of the Moon among the mountain clans which Daemon would never ever do. Not only was there not even a whisper of a silver-haired man with her whether in the confrontation with Rowan’s host or even in the legends about the fire witch, but Daemon loathed the Vale so much that he said of it “[i]n the Vale, the men fuck sheep [..] You cannot fault them. Their sheep are prettier than their women.” And that’s when he was talking about nobles. The idea that Daemon Targrayen would willingly dwell among the “savages” of the mountain clans (and leave behind a throne that his own son sat) misses his characterization by a few hundred miles.

As for the redemption arc thing, um, what redemption arc? Falling in love does not constitute as a redemption arc in and of itself, neither does settling a personal score with Aemond in a war both were fighting for a throne. I don’t see any kind of redemption in the arc of a man who actively sought out war and violence throughout his life, made a habit of deflowering really young women, and was more than happy to kill his own kin, including an innocent child. His final act of killing Aemond was about pride and vengeance, not something done out of the goodness of his heart to protect the Riverlands.

(Side note: I don’t think that Jaime is currently on a redemption arc, and I dislike characterizing his eventual murder of Cersei, which I expect to have a good deal of vengeful thoughts considering the violent nature of his thoughts about her in the last two books, as some culmination of redemptive efforts.)

[sapphire-writes]

Down in Flames (modern!HOTD) 2

previous ~ next ~ series masterlist

pairings: modern!Aegon x reader & modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: Aegon and you are just not working out. He disappears and you need a night out with your girls. Drama ensues of course, its never that easy with the band.

warnings: language, drinking, cheating, general sensual themes

word count: 4.9k

note: thanks for all the lovely comments I really hope you enjoy this part there were several moments i literally cackled writing 🤭💚

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You wake up to a stream of sunlight warming your face, while you lay in Aegon’s bed. Your bed. But Aegon’s bed. The bed you mostly share, if you’re not fighting. You groan looking at the clock. 

7:06 AM. Shit.

You feel as though you just arrived home, Aemond and you had to cart Aegon up the stairs. Luckily he only puked once before you were able to wrestle him into bed. He giggled the entire time, attempting to bite Aemond. Aegon’s a handsy drunk, he nearly ripped your shirt to expose your boobs not caring that his brother was still in the room. It wasn’t until around 4 am did you finally find sleep. 

You looked to Aegon, who was still deep in sleep beside you. As you sat up in bed you rubbed the sleep from your eyes. You could hear movement from the kitchen and knew Aemond must be up. Unlike his brother, Aemond is an early riser, no matter when he turns in for the night. 

You peel yourself from Aegon’s body, rising from bed and stretching. You check yourself in the mirror before leaving the room, making sure you’re somewhat decent. Running your fingers through your hair, you attempt to unknot the mess that’s left from a night out. Thankfully, you remembered to remove your makeup before bed in your tipsy state, your skin has definitely thanked you. 

You close the door behind you as you leave, not bothering to be gentle. Aegon could sleep through gunfire. As you head towards the kitchen you see Aemond’s tall frame moving about the small space, long silver hair rippling behind him like water. 

“That smells good,” you say, snatching a piece of toast from the toaster and walking towards the coffee maker. Aemond doesn’t turn his head at the sound of your voice, continuing to silently cook his eggs on the stove.

“And not yours,” he says, voice still rough from sleep. You shrug taking a bite as you grab a mug and pour yourself a cup of coffee. You prepare it the way you like, before taking a sip, relishing the feeling of warmth that floods through you. 

Aemond’s phone chirps from the counter. 

You place your coffee mug down before hoisting yourself atop it to sit. Aegon often chuckles when he finds you in this position. You’re rarely seated in a chair, always on an elevated surface of some kind. 

The phone buzzes again. 

You raise a brow as Aemond ignores it, continuing to cook. You both continue to exist in comfortable silence as you conduct your morning routines. Though you’re not close with Aemond, Aegon often does not rise until well into the afternoon. It’s never enough sleep though, as he usually doesn’t find dreams until the sun begins to peak over the horizon. Aegon walks around with dark circles under his eyes on most days. 

Aemond’s phone emits a sharp tune, vibrating obnoxiously on the counter as someone calls him. You watch the phone buzz, but it's face down omitting who desperately wants his attention. 

“Someone’s popular,” you say, glancing at the clock on the stove. 

Aemond turns, long fingers stretching to grab his phone. He silences it before pocketing it. 

“Alys,” he says, using the spatula to move the eggs from his pan to his plate. You lift a brow at him. So he’s seeing her again. 

“Rivers?” you clarify and he nods, a slight smirk on his face. You swing your legs back and forth taking another sip of coffee. You can’t help your curiosity. 

“It’s a little early for a booty call,” you tell him, and he grabs the second piece of toast from the toaster and places it on top of his eggs. He only responds with a hum, low in the back of his throat.

“Isn’t she a mother?” you ask him, remembering her age. You had only met Alys a handful of times, she wasn’t very friendly nor did she like to hang out with the other members of the group. When Aemond was with her, they often disappeared. 

“Not in the traditional sense,” Aemond answers, causing your eyebrows to knit together in confusion. 

“Okay…whatever that means,” you say, earning a small chuckle from him. A rarity. 

“What’s a MILF want with you?” you question, head tilting to the side. Aemond moves to walk past you, but stops in front of you. It’s hard to choose a place to look when you’re face-to-face with Aemond. That in itself was a rarity, Aemond was significantly taller than you. But sitting on the counter, you were able to meet his eyes; violet and blue, a lazy smirk across his face. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he says, before plucking the remainder of toast from your hand and adding it to his plate. He moves by you, legs brushing yours to go sit at the small table. You feel your cheeks heat with embarrassment, before scrunching your nose.

“Ew,” you say, hopping down from the counter hoping he doesn’t notice the blush that paints your cheeks, “I’m showering.”

“Don’t use all the hot water,” he snaps, shoveling a forkful of food into his mouth. 

When you finish showering, Aemond is gone. Probably off to the gym. He spends hours at a time training. You return to Aegon’s room to get dressed, towel wrapped around you. He is sprawled out on the bed, still deep in sleep. 

“Aeg,” you call, as you pull on a lace bra and matching underwear. He groans but doesn’t open his eyes. You tug on a pair of jeans, hopping in the air to assist you in getting them on.  

“I gotta go to work,” you tell him, pulling a tank top over your head. Aegon groans again and you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t forget, you have rehearsal later,” you tell him, flicking the ring that hangs from his right nipple, “Jace will literally kill you if you’re late again.”

Aegon moans louder this time, eyes opening into slits as he looks at you. He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip before turning over.  

“Come to bed,” he murmurs, reaching toward you. 

“I told you, I can’t,” you tell him, annoyed, moving off the bed and away from his grabbing hands, “I have work.”

“You’re so cruel,” he mumbles, falling back into sleep, and turning away from you onto his stomach. You put your hands on your hips.

“You only want me when you can’t have me,” you snap at him. It’s a painful blow to throw at him this early, but you’re still bitter from last night. Aegon doesn’t respond, breathing deeply. You feel tears welling in your eyes, and you angrily wipe them away. 

“I’m breaking up with you,” you tell his sleeping form, “I am.”

Aegon snores in response. 

You work part-time, picking up shifts when you can at your favorite local coffee shop, Stepstones. You worked there full-time while at university, but as the band grew and you officially entered the groupie lifestyle you had to cut back.

Rhaena is opening when you arrive. She smiles at you from behind the counter as the bell alerts her of your arrival. 

“Figured you’d be late,” she teases, tossing you a work shirt, “long night and all.”

You throw the shirt over your tank top groaning as you do so. Your limbs are tired and heavy from the weight of the previous night. Little sleep didn’t help. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you tell her, but a smile is on your face. You glance around at the empty shop.

“Just us?” 

Rhaena nods.

“Uh-huh,” she says, slouching over the counter until her head rests on top of it. The cafe is owned by Rhaena and Baela’s grandparents and is a local treasure. 

“Aegon and I broke up,” you tell Rhaena, who raises her eyebrows. 

“Does Aegon know?” she asks and you sigh.

“No he was asleep,” you tell her, earning a stifled laugh. Rhaena shakes her head. 

“Oh Y/N,” she says, and the way she says it makes your heart hurt. Rhaena has such a gentle way about her, much like Helaena. 

“Yeah,” you say, to fill the silence. 

“Let’s go out tonight,” Rhaena says, as the door chimes signaling a customer. 

“Ugh, I don’t know Rhae,” you tell her, already feeling the exhaustion creeping up on you. 

“Pleeeeasee,” Rhaena begs, pouting her lip and making the most adorable face at you. How can you deny that face?

“It will be fun, I promise,” she links her fingers together, “I’ll make you your absolute favorite drink in the whole world if you say yes.”

You nod, giving in, before plastering a customer service grin on your face. 

“Where’s Aegon?” Helaena asks when you arrive at the studio. You and Rhaena are supposed to be the last to arrive, but as you enter you realize this is not the case. Baela sits with Jace on the couch, tawny legs stretched across his lap. You frown. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, reaching for your phone, “I was at work.”

“Shit,” Jace says, running a hand through his brown hair. Aemond sits on the stage, bass slung across his back. Luke groans at your response, throwing his head back, earning a look of annoyance from Aemond. 

“Fucking perfect,” Aemond says, glaring at you. You raise your eyebrows at him.

“He’s your brother,” you quip back, causing Aemond to sneer.

“I’m not his keeper.”

“Neither am I.”

Jace walks to stand between you, even though there is a considerable distance between Aemond and you. He knows how quickly things can turn. Jace had to carry you from the room once when Aemond had said something a little too cruel to Luke, causing you to immediately come to his defense. 

“What are you going to do about it princess?,” he called, with a sadistic glint in his eye. 

Aemond had taunted you the entire time as you thrashed against Jace’s grip as he carried you from the room over his shoulder. It must be something about Targaryen men that makes your blood boil. 

Jace gives you a hesitant look, holding his arms in front of him. Always the peacemaker, Jacaerys Velaryon. You raise an eyebrow at him. Aemond cracks his knuckles. 

“Do you have any idea where he could be?” Jace asks and you shrug. 

“Last time I saw him he was in bed,” you tell him, “but that was hours ago, I was working all day.” 

Helaena twirls in a circle on the stage, the long sleeves of her shirt flowing behind her. She tilts her head to the ceiling, lost in thought. Luke watches her, lips parted as though entranced by her silent dance. 

“He needs to be here tomorrow,” Jace says, nervously pacing, “we’re meeting with Otto about the album.”

You wave Jace’s concern off. Aegon will show up by then. He always does. 

“There’s no gig tonight, right?” you ask.

“No, but that doesn’t mean he can miss rehearsals,” Aemond snaps, eyes meeting yours once more. 

“Dude, can you chill for one second?” Luke asks, and you watch Aemond’s jaw tighten at his words. Helaena stops her dance, coming to sit next to her brother. She rests a hand to his shoulder. 

“I wanted to work on the lyrics to that new song anyway,” Helaena says, “remember the one I was working on? The Queen Who Never Was?”

The tension in the room is palpable, but Helaena continues despite it. 

“It’s going to be a beautiful piece,” she says smiling, “a really narrative-driven song.” She squeezes Aemond’s shoulder. 

“Edit it for me?” she asks, jutting her chin towards the couches. Aemond responds with a hum, and Helaena clasps him on the shoulder before the siblings rise from the stage. 

“You’ll still come out later right?” Baela asks from the couch, as Aemond and Helaena take a seat across from the couple. 

“I should probably go home and see if Aegon shows up,” you tell her, causing her to frown. She shakes her head, curls bouncing, rising from her seat. 

“Come home, you’re real home,” Baela says, grabbing your arm, “Aegon will show up later, come get ready with us to go out and just have a good night. A girls' night.”

“Hey! We’re coming too,” Luke calls, holding his arms out, taking offense. 

“Yeah but still, it’ll be fun,” Baela says, giving you puppy dog eyes. Rhaena sits on the couch opposite Helaena and Aemond. 

“You gonna come?” Rhaena asks. Her voice is hopeful. Aemond doesn’t look up from the pages he reads of Helaena’s scribbled lyrics. 

“Maybe,” he answers, causing you to sigh and roll your eyes. Only then does he look up, head turning to face you. 

“What about this line?” Helaena murmurs, recapturing his attention. 

Baela continues to beg, and you finally agree. 

You’re feeling petty tonight, settling on an outfit that shows an inviting amount of skin; leaving little to the imagination. You feel confident as you fix your hair, allowing Rhaena to apply your eyeliner in the style she says gives you ‘bedroom eyes.’ She bites her lip in concentration, her hand never wavering. 

“And use this,” Baela says, digging through her makeup bag and tossing you a tube of lipgloss. 

“Is lipgloss back in?” Rhaena asks, causing Baela to raise a brow at her. 

“Was it ever out?” 

You release a breathy laugh, attempting to keep your face still so as to not mess up Rhaena’s hard work. 

“Damn,” Baela says, dragging out the word as she looks at your finished look. 

“Aegon better show up tonight,” Rhaena says, appreciating her work, “or someone’s going to steal you away.”

“Shut up,” you say, standing and going over to the mirror. You do look amazing. The outfit you chose has been sitting in the back of your closet since your early days trailing after the band. It accentuates your boobs, your butt, your thighs. You put the lipgloss on, puckering your lips. 

“Seriously, you look hot as hell Y/N,” Baela says, eyes wide, “I’m leaving Jace for you.”

You throw the tube of lipgloss at her, causing her to shriek. You feel a sudden pain in your heart at the compliments. Yeah, you are a catch. Aegon should be worried about you going out without him. But he doesn’t care at all. And that hurts. Not that you’re looking for a crazy possessive boyfriend, but a little old fashioned jealousy wouldn’t hurt. 

“Jace would allow it!” Baela shrugged. Rhaena nods in agreement. 

“We all look hot,”you confirm. Rhaena clicks her tongue, swinging her dreads over her shoulder. Balea fluffs up her curls, before adding a finishing touch to her lips. 

The Red Keep is vibrating with energy when you arrive. The club is massive, with two levels, and the walls are lined with red leather couches. Raised dancing poles are scattered throughout the room, some people have begun to climb on them with their friends, swinging on the poles as amateur dancers. You head toward the bar to grab drinks. 

“When are the boys coming?” you ask Rhaena, as Baela grabs the bartender’s attention. 

The poor guy’s eyes nearly pop out of his head at the sight of Baela and Rhaena, the fierce beauties they are. The drinks spill as his hands shake. 

“I texted Aemond, no answer of course,” Rhaena said, rolling her eyes, “but Luke said he and Jace were a couple of minutes behind us.”

“Typical,” you said, as Baela handed you the drink she ordered. Vodka cranberry. Classic. 

You wondered if Aemond would show up at all. He was probably so pissed at Aegon, just waiting at the apartment for him to come home so he could kill him. Not that he actually would, but you know. You take a sip from your drink, taking in the energy of the club, bobbing your head to the music. 

“Oh. My. God.”

Rhaena’s mouth has dropped open, eyes toward the door. Baela and you lock eyes, both with confused looks on your faces, before following her line of sight. 

Oh fuck. 

So Aemond did decide to show up. Dressed in a black button down, open at the top revealing the smooth skin of his chest, the dangling of a silver coin hung on a chain around his neck. He wears his hair completely down, flowing across his shoulders. But that’s not what made Rhaena’s mouth drop open, or  caused Baela’s flabbergasted expression, or the parting of your own lips. It’s who’s on his arm.

Alys Rivers. The mysterious recurring plaything in Aemond Targaryen’s life. Seemingly, the only woman who can pull him. She’s annoyingly pretty, with dark hair that matches her dark eyes. They almost appear to have flames dancing in them when the lights reflect on them. She’s wearing a low cut dress, a deep forest green showing off her assets. 

You know she’s older, in her mid-forties or something, and she still looks like a goddess. Her lips are red as blood and she smiles, showing a row of pearly white teeth. 

“Didn’t realize he’s seeing her again,” Baela said, taking a sip from her drink. Rhaena looks away, flustered from their entrance. 

You watch as Aemond leads Alys to the opposite side of the bar, holding onto her hand. Rhaena brings a hand to her face, fiddling with her lips as though adjusting her lipstick.  

“You know I heard she’s a witch,” you tell Rhaena, “she probably did some spell to make Aemond obsessed with her.”

Rhaena smiles at that, though you know it's not true. Well, you have heard that Alys is a practicing Wiccan, but from your earlier interaction with Aemond, it seems that Alys is the one obsessed with him. 

“Aemond must eat pussy like a champ,” Baela says, matter of factly. 

“Bae!” Rhaena says, turning beet red. You laugh uncomfortably, a nervous smile on your lips feeling your face begin to flush. Baela only frowns and shrugs her shoulders, as if she hasn’t just said the most pornographic sentence of the evening.

“What?” she says, looking between you and Rhaena, “Oh come on! You think Alys is with him for his sparkling personality?”

You glance back at the couple, watching Alys gain the attention of the bartender. Aemond leans behind her, before glancing in your direction. You quickly turn around, hoping he did not see you. 

“I’m gonna look for Helaena,” you tell the twins, nodding towards the dance floor. Helaena is always in the mood to dance, it’s often hard to get her to leave a club.  

Packed with people, you push your way through the crowd toward the dance floor, eyes hunting for Helaena. 

You spot silver curls and reach out to grab her shoulder. Much to your surprise, Laena Velaryon turns around, the second girlfriend of Daemon Targaryen. Well, only girlfriend, but everyone knows Daemon is screwing Rhaenyra. Not that Laena seems to mind, the two seem to enjoy each other’s company. A throuple then? You’re not sure, you find it dizzying trying to keep up with Daemon’s relationships. 

“Y/N!” she says, throwing her arms around you. 

“Laena! Hi!” you say, unable to hide your surprise. 

“Ohmygod I did not expect to see you!” she says, looking behind you, “are the twins here?”

“Yeah, they’re at the bar.”

“I’ll have to say hi,” she says, continuing to talk, “oh my god you’ll never believe it, Rhaenyra is meeting with the label Iron Throne tomorrow! They’re offering her a deal or something.”

Your heart quickens. Rhaenyra was racing against the band for the rights to her song. 

“Wow, that is amazing!” you tell her and she smiles again. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” she says, pushing further into the crowd.

“Yeah totally!” you say, though you don’t expect to see her again. Just wait until Baela and Rhaena hear that she’s here. 

You continue to search for Helaena but decide she must have not started dancing yet. You decide to head back to the bar to see if Jace and Luke have arrived. You walk around the edge of the club, near people who sit on the red leather couches. You spot a familiar face and turn quickly, nearly losing your balance with the heels you are wearing. Damn Baela for making you wear these impractical stilettos. 

“Y/N,” Daemon calls from his spot on the couch. You should’ve known if Laena was here, Daemon would be too. He licks his lips as you approach him, eyes shamelessly caressing your body. He’s wearing a dark maroon silk shirt, the color of blood. Several rings adorn his fingers, catching in the light. 

“Daemon,” you greet him, giving him a polite smile. 

“It’s nice to see you,” he said, motioning for you to sit. You continue standing, causing his mouth to shrug. You glance around, looking for your friends. You spot Helaena’s silver head on the dance floor, hands in the air as she loses herself in the music. 

“Where’s Rhaenyra?” you ask, bringing your eyes back to him. Daemon smiles.

“Resting,” he answers, finishing the dregs of his drink, “she’s got a big day tomorrow.”

“So I hear.”

“I hear Dracarys is making moves as well,” he says, mischief in his eyes, “recording an album?”

You let your eyebrows rise and fall, appearing uninterested in the conversation. You look to your left, eyes catching Aemond’s, as he leans against the bar. Alys is with him still, her hand snaked around his slender waist. She’s whispering something to him, as he stares back at you. 

“Something like that,” you answer, as Daemon leans forward. He holds his empty glass out to you. You tear your eyes from Aemond and Alys and take the glass from him, placing it on a high rise behind you for someone to discard. 

Daemon doesn’t lean back, he instead brings his hand to trace up your bare calf leaving a trail of fire behind. His fingers lazily dance a path up to the back of your thigh, before he applies pressure, pulling you towards him. 

“You still seeing Aegon?” he asks, looking up at you through his silver lashes as you now stand between his thighs. He is much older than you. Not that it matters, you’re both adults. Hell, if Aemond can be with someone like Alys Rivers you could certainly bag Daemon Targaryen. 

“Something like that,” you repeat, and Daemon nods, hand coming to the side of your thigh, thumb rubbing circles against it. 

You raise an eyebrow at his bold actions. Daemon is nothing if not bold. And you can’t deny he’s attractive. All Targaryens seem to be. 

“Two girlfriends not cutting it?” you remark.

“All good things come in threes,” he murmurs, continuing his caresses, “how bout you grab me another drink?”

“Your legs broken?” you quip, looking towards the bar. Aemond and Alys have vanished. 

“Feisty as ever I see,” he says, smirking. You’ve had enough of him for tonight, bringing your hand to brush him off of your thigh. 

“Fuck off,” you tell him, and he holds his hands up in surrender. Daemon leans back, lacing his fingers together before letting them rest behind his head. 

“Another time then,” he says as you move away from him, heading towards the dance floor. 

Rhaena joins you as well. 

“Where’s Baela?” you ask, yelling above the music. 

She points to the couch, the opposite side of the room from where Daemon sits. Baela is straddling Jace, deep in a makeout session. Damn.

“Everyone’s having fun I guess,” Rhaena says, motioning to another area of the couch. Your eyes follow and spot Aemond and Alys again. Alys is lost in conversation with someone seated on the floor next to her, as she sits between Aemond’s legs, head resting on his thigh. You look up at him. 

He’s watching you again.

You wonder if he ever took his eye off of you, even when you couldn’t see him. Aemond takes a sip from his glass, eye locked on yours, peering over the rim of the glass. 

You turn back to Rhaena. Her mouth is twisted in disappointment. You begin to smirk.

“C’mon,” you say, grabbing her hand, “let’s show him what he’s missing out on.”

Rhaena’s eyes light up as you lead her toward one of the empty raised platforms. You hoist yourself up before offering her your hand, helping her on the stage. You place your hand on the slick metal pole.

“Y/N,” Rhaena says, giggling nervously. You glance to where Aemond was seated. His eye follows you. You slide your hand up the pole, curling around it before wiggling your hips as you slide down. Rhaena joins you, laughing while she does, mimicking the movement of your hips. 

You continue to dance, all the while making sure Aemond is watching. His gaze never falters. In fact, his lips appear to part as he continues to stare.

You turn around, hand above your head as you press your ass against the pole, before sliding down. You watch as Aemond’s head tilts to the side, a curious expression on his face. Your breathing is becoming erratic, and blood pounding in your ears. 

You hear a howl from below you and break your gaze from Aemond’s. Luke has joined, his eyes wide, a grin stretching across his face. His eyes are locked on Rhaena, pupils are blown as he watches her. He raises his drink to you both, as he continues dancing. Baela and Jace have joined as well, cheering you on. 

You reach down to Luke, pulling him on the stage as you resume standing. He grabs the pole and begins to dance around it, causing Rhaena to shriek with laughter. Jace hoists himself up as well, bringing Baela with him and suddenly you’re all crushed against each other in a giggling dancing mess. 

You hop down away from your friends, nearly twisting your ankle. A pair of hands steady you. You look up into a pair of warm brown eyes. The man smiles, quickly allowing himself a glance at your body, before returning his gaze to your face.

“Looked like you needed a hand,” he says, a lopsided grin stretching across his face. 

“Thanks,” you say, returning his smile.

“I’m Cregan.”

“Y/N.”

Cregan runs a hand through his hair, a similar shade of brown. Oh he is cute. 

“Buy you a drink?”

“She’s taken.”

You hadn’t even noticed Aemond make his way over to you, arm slung over Aly’s shoulders. You feel your cheeks heat with anger at the half smirk on Aemond’s face. Cregan assesses Aemond with confusion, noting his arm that remains on Alys. 

“I’m not-”

“That’s my brother’s girl you’re talking to,” Aemond says, cutting you off. Your jaw clenches. Cregan looks at you, takes in your expression. 

“We broke up,” you tell Cregan, half meaning it. Aemond scoffs. 

“They do this all the time,” Aemond tells him, “trust me dude. You don’t want to get in the middle of that.”

Cregan nods, meeting your eyes. You watch helplessly as he shoves his hands in his pocket. 

“Got it,” he says, turning to leave, “nice to meet you, Y/N.”

You watch as he disappears into the crowd, an annoyed expression on your face. 

“Hey Y/N,” Alys purrs, giving you a once over. You give her a fake smile watching as she runs a hand across Aemond’s broad chest. Her nails are painted red, matching her lips. 

“Hey Alys,” you tell her, “so nice seeing you.”

“Likewise,” the older woman says, red lips in a smirk. She gives you a quick once over, lashes fluttering. She touches the hand that Aemond has rested on her shoulder. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” she tells him, unwrapping herself from him and heading to the bar. Aemond looks down at you. 

“What is your problem?” you accuse, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“You gonna fuck that guy?” he asks. 

“So what if I do? It’s none of your business what I do, and who I choose to sleep with!” you tell him.

Aemond only scoffs, leaning over you. 

“Aegon’s your boyfriend.”

“Then where is he!” you yell, anger getting the better of you, “if he gives a shit about where I am or who I’m with? Where is he?”

Aemond doesn’t answer, he simply continues to glare down at you. Baela has noticed the argument, nudging Jace as she hurriedly climbs down off of the platform. 

You spot Cregan at the bar. As you’re turning to leave, Aemond grabs your arm. His lips are curved into a predatory snarl. 

“Don’t,” he says, voice a low warning. 

“Make me,” you challenge, watching him set his jaw. Every angle of his face looks like it could cut you into pieces. 

You pull your arm from his grasp, leaving just as Baela and Jace approach.

“Okay, time to go,” Jace says, clapping his hands together. Baela is already on her phone, calling an Uber. Aemond hums angrily, before leaving to find Alys. 

“Hey, you,” you say, walking up to Cregan. His eyebrows lift in surprise and he appears to choke on his drink. 

“Me?” he says, half joking.

“Yeah,” you tell him, huffing with anger, “give me your phone.”

He reaches into his back pocket, a smile threatening to burst across his face. You create a new contact by putting your number in. 

“Call me, text me, whatever,” you tell him, returning his phone, “I’m single. Okay?”

He blinks, a smile coming across his face. Cregan looks at you, dragging his eyes over your body from head to toe. A wolf, whose prey has come willingly to greet him. 

“Okay,” he agrees as you turn on your heel to leave.

“Badass,” Baela says, slapping your butt as you walk out of the club to meet your Uber.

taglist: @padfooteyes, @herfantasyworldd, @kyuupidwrites, @lost-and-founds, @doublesparrows, @virginslut08, @f4ll-for-you, @violet2507, @itsabby15, @raphaellathedragon, @tswiftsthings, @cruelmissdior, @tempt-ress

note: kisses ily all so much MWAH 😘