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birdiewriteslit · 10 months

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“summer of difference”

chapter one: miss americana and the heartbreak prince

various house of the dragon boys x fem!stark!reader

me writing? since when?? ik it’s been a while but i’ve been thinking about writing a series for house of the dragon! it’s summer, and i’m rewatching the summer i turned pretty, so this is kind of inspired by it? but also not, yk? i’m happy to be writing things again, hope y’all enjoy!

p.s. the boys i’ll be writing about include jacaerys, aegon, and aemond (and this is modern au obvi)

warnings: suggestive/sexual themes

This would be your fourth summer with your brother’s best friend’s family in King’s Landing. Summers here were always so different than the summers back home in Winterfell. Not only was the temperature much warmer, but things were actually interesting in this lakeside town.

You sat sandwiched between your siblings in the backseat of your mother’s Toyota. Cregan reached behind your head to smack Sara’s headphones off.

“Hey!” she shouted, watching the device fall into her lap.

“Quit it, Cregan,” your father warned, not taking his eyes off of the road.

The long drive south was the only thing you hated about this trip. Being the middle child meant you were always stuck in the middle seat. At hour four, you were unbelievably relieved when the road to Rhaenyra’s house finally came into view late afternoon.

A smile appeared on your face as you pulled into the driveway. It was times like these when you were grateful that your brother had rich friends.

The house was huge. It was white with light blue accents and three garage spaces. One of these hosted Daemon’s red convertible, which you had some interesting memories with Jacaerys in.

Speaking of Jace, he ran out the front door as soon as Cregan exited the car, you sliding out after him.

You couldn’t really focus on whatever complicated bro hug they were doing because Jace looked so different.

His hair was long and curlier, and his features were sharper. His smile was bright and perfect as he patted your brother on the back. He had certainly matured since last summer.

As he parted from Cregan, his eyes shifted to you, his smile never faltering. “Wow, Y/n,” he said as he took you into his arms.

You breathed him in. He smelled of salt air and the beach scented candle his mother was always burning. His damp hair brushed against your cheeks as his arms tightened around your waist.

“Gone swimming with out us?” Once you pulled away from him, you gestured to his bathing suit trunks, which had left a few wet splotches on your shorts.

“Yeah, Daemon’s with the boys by the dock,” he explained, then looked over your shoulder at your sister taking her things out of the trunk. “Luke’s inside, waiting for you.” He smirked, glancing at Cregan. You turned to Sara, copying his expression while she rolled her eyes, grabbing her duffel bag.

“You three are so immature,” she said, shoving past Cregan to enter the house.

“I don’t like being looped in with you guys,” you said.

“You’re lucky to be,” Cregan said. “Now help me with all this shit.” He gestured toward the open trunk.

“Watch your mouth, Cregan. We’re guests here,” your mother scolded.

“It’s all good, Gilliane. I’ve heard worse from my stepdad,” Jace said.

“I bet,” your dad muttered.

“I’ll meet you guys inside, alright?” Jace pointed at you and Cregan.

“Yeah, I’ll see you in there,” you said, smiling stupidly.

Cregan nudged your arm. “‘I’ll see you in there,’” he mimicked your words in a high pitched voice. Your face burned as you told him to shut up.

You walked into the house with your bags and brought them upstairs to the blue room. You always shared the room with Baela. The walls and the carpet were different shades of light blue, and the skylight above the bed always made it seem brighter.

You stopped in your tracks when you saw Sara fishing through her bag on the ground. “What are you doing in here?”

“Nyra told me we’re sharing this year. Apparently Baela and Rhaena are with their mother for the month,” Sara said nonchalantly.

“What?” This was news to you. Daemon’s stepdaughters were always here for the summer. Baela was your best friend away from home. Your stomach dropped when you realized what this meant. You’d be forced to hang out with the boys all summer, or worse, your little sister.

“I can’t share a room with you,” you said. Sara scoffed and pulled her bathing suit from her bag, going into the bathroom to change. You pulled out your phone and texted Baela immediately.

—

You: how could you do this to me?? why didn’t you tell me you weren’t coming this summer :(

my bae🤍: i’m sorryyyy!! it’s only a few weeks though. my mom thought it was unfair that dad gets us all summer. tbh it is unfair like he doesn’t even hang out with us.

You: mannn you cant leave me with creg and jace

my bae🤍: i don’t think you have a problem being alone with jace lol

You: don’t even start! creg has already reminded me today. it doesn’t help that jace has gotten sooo much hotter since last year.

my bae🤍: please refrain from talking about my brother like that. and btw NOBODY has forgotten about it.

You: thanks for that. i ran upstairs so i wouldn’t have to face nyra and daemon again. i’m literally gonna die from embarrassment.

my bae🤍: don’t worry, nobody brings it up in front of dad and her. rhaena, luke, and i just make fun of him when they aren’t looking. you should see how red his face gets. seriously, it’s hilarious.

You: ughhh i was hoping this would just go away

my bae🤍: nah you’re never living this down

You: he hugged me and i swear to god i heard a taylor swift song playing in the background

my bae🤍: i bet it was lover lol

You: more like miss americana and the heartbreak prince

my bae🤍: y’all are so lover shut up. PLEASE update me tonight if anything interesting happens. i am fucking devastated that i cant watch you guys reunite.

You: you’ll get over it

—

You rolled your eyes at her last text and set your phone on the bed, beginning to unpack your items. A knock on the doorframe made you turn around. Rhaenyra stood there, a soft smile on her face. “You didn’t even say hello to me.”

“Sorry, Nyra. I wanted to see Baela as soon as possible,” you lied.

“Ah, well, you’ll see her in July.” She sat on the bed in front of you and placed a strand of hair behind your ear. “How have you been, sweet girl?”

You grinned at the nickname, almost sighing from relief that she wasn’t even thinking about the incident from the last time you were here. “Really good. I’m happy to be back here, though.”

“I love having you here. You’re my favorite girl. I hope you know that. Don’t tell your sister.” She winked.

“I won’t,” you promised.

“You know, I always hoped you would be my future daughter-in-law,” she said cheekily. Your eyes widened as heat crept up your neck. “Only teasing, my dear,” she said, standing up from the bed. “Get your suit on, Jace wants you to come tubing.”

“Okay,” you squeaked, turning to fumble around in your bag.

This is a little tight, you thought as you exited the basement and walked on the stone path to the dock.

You initially bought the bikini because it was your favorite color, but now you felt a little self conscious about the amount it revealed. You grabbed a life jacket from the bench on the dock and hopped onto the boat.

“Put that on, Y/n. We’re going first,” Jace said, wearing the same smile from earlier, and eyeing you up in a very unsubtle way.

Butterflies surged in your stomach. You would be alone with Jace for the first time in nearly a year. But does it really count if you were being dragged behind a pontoon boat with water spraying into your faces and both of your families watching you? You wouldn’t say so.

Nevertheless, you were still nervous when you felt his eyes on you.

Cregan, Sara, Luke, and Joffrey were already on the boat, all thoroughly intrigued by their favorite reality show, aka you and Jace.

Daemon untied the boat from its posts and gently pushed it away from the dock, jumping on with your father following suit.

“Rickon, you spot while I drive,” Daemon said, and your father nodded. Their dad fits were impeccable on this afternoon. Matching sports sunglasses with cargo shorts and shirts that sponsored separate breweries was definitely the move.

“You aren’t driving, Rickon?” Jace said, sounding worried.

“Nope. My shoulder hurts from, uh, weightlifting.”

You snorted at his fake excuse. You knew he just didn’t want to do it, based on all of his complaining during the year. He claimed it stressed his muscles too much.

“It’s my boat, kid. I won’t whip you if you can’t handle it,” Daemon taunted.

“I can handle it,” Jace said firmly. “Come on, Y/n.”

Rickon pushed the pancake tube off of the boat and held the rope tightly as you and Jace climbed on. As he slowly let go of the rope, letting you drift out into the lake, you said, “Why the fuck would you tell him we can handle it? He’s going to fling us like 50 feet into the air.”

Jace grinned evilly at you. “I said I can handle it. Not my fault if you can’t.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Have you forgotten what happened last time he drove the boat? I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“He was drunk that time.” Jace shrugged.

“He’s worse sober!” You gripped the handles tighter as the boat began to move. “Seven hells,” you muttered.

The boat quickly sped up, and soon you and Jace were bouncing across the lake. The motor combined with the rush of water was loud in your ears, the spray cold and nearly blinding.

Daemon swung the boat around and the tube flung out to the right, you screamed while Jace laughed hysterically.

“Jace, oh my God, what is that?” you yelled, looking at an upcoming wave.

“I think that’s your downfall,” Jace shouted.

“That’s not fucking funny!” The tube bounced up over the wave, flinging you and Jace off and into the water.

The water came up over your head before the life jacket brought you back to the surface. You breathed in deeply and pushed the wet hair away from your face.

You looked to your left and saw Jace about ten feet away grinning and shaking his wet hair. The boat was turning around to come fetch you both.

You quickly swam over to him and grabbed onto his shoulders, dunking him from behind. He was coughing when he came back up. “You bitch!” he said as you laughed.

“That’s what you get,” you fired back. He raised his hands and splashed water in your face. You spit out what got into your mouth and splashed him back.

“Get on the boat, lovebirds!” Sara called, laying on the sundeck as the boat approached.

“Shut up, Sara,” you said, casting your eyes down to your legs treading water. “And speak for yourself.” You glanced at Luke, who knelt on the seat behind her. She stuck her tongue out as you climbed the ladder onto the deck.

You made your way to the front of the boat, taking off the life jacket and wrapping yourself in a towel. “Cold?” Daemon asked.

You glared back at him. “Clearly.” He smirked and called out to Sara and Luke, making sure they were ready for the hell he was about to put them through.

Jace sat next to you after grabbing his own towel and two sodas from the cooler. He handed one to you before draping his arm across the back of your seat. Cregan and Joff sat on the opposite side of the boat, the younger one absentmindedly playing with the buckles on his life jacket.

“Why didn’t you go with me, man? Now I have to go on the slow ride,” Cregan complained, gesturing to Joff.

Jace shrugged. “Baela isn’t here, and I couldn’t leave my favorite girl hanging,” he said, squeezing your shoulder.

Cregan rolled his eyes and pretended to retch when Jace wasn’t looking. You motioned for him to stop as Jace looked back at him when the boat started moving.

You slipped out of Jace’s grasp and went to sit at the back of the boat to watch your sister and his brother get tortured by Daemon. It didn’t take long for Sara to go flying through the air, screaming Luke’s name as she went. He whipped his head around to watch her splash in the water, accidentally taking his hand off the handle and landing a few feet in front of her.

Your father reeled the tube in as Daemon turned the boat around to fetch them. Creg and Joff went next, their ride relatively uneventful. The perpetual frown on your brother’s face made you feel better about him teasing you the whole day.

Daemon slowed down and rode back to the dock with them trailing behind. Your father reeled them in while Jace and Luke hopped off the boat to tie it to the posts.

“How was that?” Jace asked, grinning at you as you walked up to the house with him.

“Exhilarating,” you said, giving him an annoyed look.

“My girl, always so adventurous.” He said it sarcastically, but your heart always skipped a beat when he called you his girl. You smiled nervously as he opened the door for you.

You shivered as the air conditioning hit your bare skin. “Why is it always so cold down here?”

Jace shrugged. “Daemon is a diva. He always has it on.”

You laughed. “He needs the best of the best.”

“No less,” he agreed, following you up the stairs.

When you entered the kitchen moments later, your mother immediately scolded you for dripping water on the floor.

“Oh, she’s fine. My boys do it constantly. Look at Jace doing it right now,” Rhaenyra countered, continuing to stir the contents of the pot in front of her.

“I walk in the room and I’m a victim,” Jace said, sitting on one of the barstools.

“Don’t sit on my stools in that wet bathing suit. You two, go shower and clean up for dinner,” Rhaenyra commanded.

“Yes, mom.” Jace stood from the stool and followed you down the hallway.

You left him at the bottom of the stairs as you hurried up the steps to gather your things for your shower. Sara wasn’t there yet, probably still outside with your brother and the boys.

You headed to the bathroom and felt instant warmth when you stepped into the shower. You washed your hair and body, and once you were done, you were so happy the smell of lake water was gone from you.

After getting changed, you left your wet bathing suit on the bathtub to dry, and exited the bathroom. Sara was laying on her cot in her semi-wet swimsuit when you got there, watching TikToks on her phone.

“Finally,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the door. “You were in there for like thirty minutes.”

“Time escapes me,” you said, plopping down on your bed and pulling out your phone to do the same thing she was doing.

There was a text from Jace in your notifications.

J: Night swim tonight??

You: i just showered i don’t want to get back in the lake

J: Where’s your sense of adventure from earlier?

You: long gone

J: Pleaseeeee

You: fine but only because you asked nicely

The real reason you agreed was because you were hoping he would talk to you about what happened the year before. So far, he had made no move to bring it up, but maybe all it took was being alone with him.

You sighed into your pillow and opened TikTok to distract you from this situation. After a good thirty minutes that felt like five, you were being called downstairs to eat by your brother.

“Smells good,” you said, entering the kitchen and grabbing a plate.

“Thank you, darling,” Rhaenyra said, patting your back as she moved past you into the dining room.

“Man, I’ve been waiting all year for this.” Cregan proceeded to fill his entire plate with spaghetti and meatballs, drowning it in parmesan cheese.

“Save some for the rest of us,” you muttered, grabbing a piece of garlic bread.

You took your plate into the dining room and sat down next to Luke. Jace and Cregan sat across from you two, with Daemon and Rhaenyra at the ends of the table. Sara sat down on Luke’s other side, your parents on Rhaenyra’s end of the table. Joff, Aegon, Viserys, and Visenya all sat at the foldable kids table. You stared wistfully at the empty seats at the adults table that were usually reserved for Baela and Rhaena.

“So,” Luke said to you, hardly disrupting the conversations of the other people at the table. “I hear you got your license. Are you and Jace planning on taking another spin in Daemon’s car, if you know what I mean?”

You nearly choked on the piece of spaghetti dangling from your mouth. Of course, you knew what he meant. The sly fucker just had to bring it up at the family dinner. Luckily for you, Jace was occupied with eating like a starved man on the other side of the table. Daemon was one empty chair away from hearing Luke’s remark. You thought he wasn’t listening, but it was hard to tell when he was eavesdropping.

“You better shut your mouth right now before someone hears you,” you said quietly, holding your fork at him threateningly.

“Does it matter if they do? Everyone heard you last year. It might’ve been embarrassing for you but it was downright traumatic for me,” Luke said.

Jace had successfully cleared his plate at this point, it was impressive, really. He had his attention turned towards you now.

“What was traumatic?” he asked.

“No, Jace. Do not even ask,” you warned.

“I think I’d like to know,” Daemon chimed in, smirk on his face, not even bothering to look up from his food.

You gave him a horrified look that contradicted his unbothered one. Luke shifted uncomfortably, no longer having fun. He cleared his throat. “I’d rather not talk about it at the dinner table.” Liar.

“That’s what I thought,” Daemon said coolly, twirling his spaghetti in a rather unsettling way.

“No, seriously, what?” Jace pushed, utterly clueless.

“Drop it, Jace,” you warned again, an embarrassed heat rising up your neck.

Seeing the look on your face, realization dawned upon him. “Oh,” was all he said as he cast his eyes to his plate, the leftover marinara sauce the same color as his cheeks.

Luke snickered to himself, and you kicked him under the table. “Jesus, Y/n, what was that for?” he hissed. You only glared in return.

Soon enough, everyone finished dinner, and you dragged your feet to your bedroom, collapsing on the bed. You were stuffed and tired, but you promised Jace a swim tonight. All you could do was hope that it wouldn’t be awkward.

You went on your phone to pass the time until nine, which was the usual time you met up with him for your night swims. Sara was passed out in her bed when you swiftly left the room to change.

When you got down to the dock, Jace was already in the water. He slicked his wet hair back with his hand as grinned at the sight of you. “The water’s warm, get in.”

“Look what I’m doing,” you said, going down the stone steps and slowly entering the water.

“Come on,” he said, nodding his head to the raft about twenty feet from the boat. He started swimming towards it with you in tow, trying to ignore how tired you felt from the long day.

He climbed the ladder and laid down on the raft. “I thought we were going to swim,” you said, laying beside him.

He was quiet for a moment, staring up at the stars, leaving the crickets and other night animals to fill the silence. He turned his head and met your eyes. “I don’t really care what we do. I just wanted to hang out with you. I missed you, you know,” he confessed.

“I missed you too, Jace. We have all summer to hang out together.” And hopefully sooner or later, you would sort out your unspoken history.

“Even when Baela comes back?” he asked tentatively.

“Even then. I’ll always make time for you.”

He smiled and looked back up at the sky. “Let’s just stay out here for a while.”

You nodded and looked away from him, gazing at the stars instead. You expected to come out here and have an awkward conversation about the incident from last summer, not pick up where you left off. Why wasn’t he bringing it up? You knew he hadn’t forgotten, but why wouldn’t he talk to you about it? He was always so open, so forward with you.

As you laid together on the raft, he looped your fingers through his, and you were all but transported to the year before.

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targaryen-dynasty · 7 months

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SWEET POISON.

Aegon II Targaryen x niece!Reader

Cregan Stark was a decent man, but your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away. Yet you were ignoring him to keep the liaison between you a secret – much to your uncle's infuriation.

WORDS: 2.7 K

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT–MINORS DNI; NON/DUB-CON, canon typical incest/targcest (uncle x niece), (semi) public sex, p in v, slight fingering, dacryphilia, slight petting, humiliating, degrading, choking, spitting, mean/dark/jealous/possessive!Aegon, female Reader (with Targaryen traits -> silver hair, lilac eyes)

NOTES: Written for @lovelykhaleesiii 🥰 You prefer the uncle x niece trope? Say no more! Thank you so much! 🤭

The arrangement between you and Cregan Stark made more than sense to tie the North to your mother’s side of the family. Especially if Aegon should ever choose to assert his claim to the Iron Throne, despite not being appointed heir by your grandsire.

It was a good plan, and nothing more than a political arrangement.

You had met Cregan once before the King’s official announcement of your betrothal and the supper he hosted in honor of it, and while he was a decent man, your heart yearned for the man from whom this marriage would tear you away.

All evening you had to endure the cold stare of Aegon. And while his eyes usually were glued to you with a certain softness that caused you to get lost in them, they did nothing more than burn with fury at the end of the feast.

But the announcement of your betrothal was not the trigger, you had informed Aegon beforehand a few nights ago. It was the way you clung to Cregan’s hand as he guided you to the dance floor. The way you smiled and laughed whenever the Stark made a joke. And if this didn’t fuel his jealousy, you not paying any attention to him at all certainly did.

The whole night long.

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of the match made for you, but you were just too afraid to look at Aegon once you’d noticed your mistake, for your uncle was known to be quick to anger and slow to forgive. And you weren't sure if you were ready to face the dragon’s wrath.

The liaison between you was a secret. You were sure your mother and stepfather would feed you to their dragons, if it were to become known to them that your uncle had broken your maidenhead the night you turned ten-and-nine. But the agreement of secrecy seemed to be long forgotten by said uncle, his jealousy clearly taking over.

It was no surprise that, when you eventually exited the throne room as the feast was nearing its end, a shadow in the form of Aegon trailed behind you like a predator waiting for the right moment to seize its prey.

And seizing you he did, once the hallways became more dimly lit and lonelier.

There was an urgency in him when he not-so-gently fisted your hair to pull you back, shoving you into one of the keeps alcoves. He didn’t have to speak first, as there was no need for him to phrase what bothered him. You knew all too well what plagued his mind.

“He–We–We are betrothed,” you whimpered, lips pulling into a pout while your head was firmly pressed against the stone wall of the alcove by Aegon’s hand around your throat, “do not be mad at me.”

Your heart was racing, pounding against the confines of your ribcage with Aegon’s large hand trailing over the bodice of your dress, fisting the skirts of it to lift it enough for his hand to snake underneath. “Are you really sulking now?” he growled, breath reeking of Arbor red as it fanned over your face. His thumb started to circle over the dampened spot in the center of your smallclothes, teasing your little bud. Your small hand reached for his wrist, though you weren’t sure if you wanted to claw his hand off your throat or if you used the grip to keep yourself grounded.

The sound of pleasure that left your lips was the epitome of pathetic, and the volume of it had embarrassment coloring your cheeks and neck in a bright red. Your bottom lip trembled, and, despite the pleasurable sensations that rippled through your core at the ministrations of his thumb, you attempted to wiggle out of his grasp. “Y-Yes!” you all but whined, though you tried your best to keep your voice low considering you were still kind of out in the open, barely shielded by the alcove.

Aegon flashed you a lazy smirk when you focused your eyes from the bawdy tapestry hanging on the wall behind him, finally meeting his eyes. “Then quit the sulking before I give you something to sulk about, niece.”

It was well-known that Aegon was not a proficient warrior, unlike his younger brother, yet this did not mean that he wasn’t strong. His grip on your throat was tight enough to lock you in place, rendering you immobile, and when he placed one thigh between yours, you knew all hope for you was lost.

“Mayhaps I must drag you back to the Throne Room…,” he muttered, tilting his head to the side as he assessed you, watching your eyes grow wide with fear. “... bend you over the table to claim you in front of everyone. Mayhaps this will show my half-sister that you belong to me.”

You tried to cower, lilac eyes flickering between the emeralds on his gold chain and his mocking expression. “Gods,” you breathed, the thought sending shivers down your spine, “p-please, no–” Your words were cut off by your own gasp when two of his thick digits pushed the linen of your smallclothes aside to scarcely drag through your soaked mound, barely using any of your arousal to slide inside without a warning.

But, as quick as his fingers had entered you, they withdrew again, resuming to rubbing your little bud.

“P-Please,” Aegon mocked with a dry chuckle, pushing his lips into a pout to mimic the one you had made before, “you are so pretty when you beg.” The backhanded compliment seemed to be enough to dull your inhibitions, allowing a warmth sensation to bubble in the pit of your stomach. “I know you like it, sweetling,” his head dips forward, looking you down with a sharp expression, “when I treat you like the common whore you are, taking right after your mother.”

And just like that, the warmth vanished, bringing you back to the cold reality and the predicament you had found yourself in. Perhaps you should have seen it coming sooner, having witnessed all the oh so cruel jokes he had made at the expense of his own kin, his younger brother. But why did a part of you crave his cruelness so much?

Your body was torn between feeling a hunger for him and being humiliated by him, the interplay of both leaving you utterly confused. When you turned your head to the side to escape his mocking stare, and hide the tears rolling down your cheeks, Aegon was quick to force you to meet his gaze again, his hand releasing your throat, so his fingers could not-so-gently dig into your cheeks.

“You look at me when you cry,” he commanded, seemingly enjoying the power he held over you, compensating for something he lacked in his everyday life. “Those tears belong to me,” he said, gathering some of them with the pad of his thumb, “just like this sweet cunt of yours. You belong to me, not to that cunt of a Stark. Am I understood?”

When you didn’t answer, he spoke again, but not without spitting on your cheek first, feeding the shame and the humiliation you felt.

“Am I understood?”

Your face grew burning hot with the realization of what he had done, your mouth agape, but before he could spit on you for a second time, you were quick to manage a short whimper of ‘y-yes.’

His lilac eyes were dark blown, a perverted desire flickering in them, and letting you know you were right about the dragon’s wrath. He loomed over you like a vulture, and shielded your small frame from the few people passing the alcove on their way.

“You are so fortunate, little niece. Do you know what other ladies would do to be in your place, to be desired by the future King of the Seven Kingdoms? And how many other ladies would want to be you right now?” You couldn’t bring yourself to correct him, stating that your mother was proclaimed heir long before he was born, as you were too afraid to make your misery even worse. “Many noble lords would kill for their daughter to take your place,” he said, “you should thank me for only wanting you.”

You swallowed thickly, and your voice betrayed you. Instead of giving him the answer he desired, a pathetic moan slipped past your lips, only topped by your legs buckling beneath your weight at the impact of his words, of his possessiveness. His hand found your throat again, keeping you steady.

“Lo iksā daor jāre naejot gaomagon skoros vestran, nyke kessa jurnegon syt iā riña bona kessa.” The High Valyrian slipped past his lips with so much ease, the shock on your face was evident. Never before had you heard him speak the tongue of your ancestors, not even knowing if he could speak it. But the smoothness of his voice, and the lack of accent, made it clear the lazy prince had been a dutiful scholar. “Āeksio Borros iksis gīmigon naejot emagon izula tali. Kostilus mēre hen zirȳ kessa gaomagon.” If you are not going to do what I say, I shall look for a lady that will. Lord Borros is known to have four daughters. Perhaps one of them will do.

Even though no one would know he casted you aside for one of the Four Storms, you resented the thought and the shame it would bring you. “No,” you pleaded, more tears brimming in your eyes, causing your vision to grow blurry. “B–But please let us take this to your chambers,” you whined, “I am scared of someone seeing us.... me.”

“Silence,” Aegon purred, his tone a stark contrast from the harsh one he had used prior. He bowed his head forwards to nuzzle his nose along your cheek, licking up the tears that had run down, before his lips pressed a kiss to your temple. “But in my apartments no one will know you are mine, sweetling.”

So lost in the softness of his voice and the warmth of his breath, you hardly registered him undoing the laces in his breeches, only just lowered enough for him to free his hard cock. Once that was done, he lifted one of your thighs to wrap it around his hip, which brought you close enough to his cock to feel it prodding against your cunt.

“We–We can’t,” you tried to protest, wiggling out of his grasp. But Aegon was adamant, keeping his hand locked around your thigh as he solely relied on the hardness of his cock to breach your core instead of using his hand to guide it in. “Not here… please, uncle,” your voice was reduced to a whimper, and the despair audible. A thousand thoughts flashed before your eyes, the most prominent one being either your mother and stepfather, or even Cregan himself, finding you mid-act.

“I decide where I take you,” he growled your name in a condescending manner, displaying his raw need to prove himself and show the dominance he held over you, “and if I wanted to fuck you in the small council chamber during a meeting, then so be it.”

You released a shuddered breath, and the memories of the delicious stretch his cock brought you clouded your mind to the point you couldn't intervene, only to be revived a split second later with him slowly but surely pushing in. Every ridge and vein of his cock dragged along your inner walls, not making the burning of the stretch any more pleasurable than the countless times he had had you before.

He tilted your head back to expose your throat to him, allowing him to nibble your skin as he started to thrust his hips into yours. His teeth dragged along your throat over to the curve where your neck met your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell if he left any marks or not – even if he did, you didn’t care at this point.

The snaps of his hips weren’t particularly fast or harsh, but deep and determined enough to make your breathing hiccup each time the tip of his cock brushed the sweet spot within you. When one thrust seemed a bit rougher than the others, you released a moan that was a tad too loud for your own liking, but alas, the man in front of you didn’t think so, and was quick to change his pace to coax even louder sounds of pleasure from you.

“Be quiet,” the silver haired prince teased, yet he didn’t do anything to stifle or mitigate your moans, “we do not want to raise any more attention, do we?” The tone of his voice was so wicked, and you damn well knew that was exactly what he wanted. If anyone was to see you two, nothing would stand in his way to get you all for himself. Not Cregan Stark, and not even your stepfather himself, the Rogue Prince.

It was far too easy for him to lose himself in you. Despite some people passing you two, exchanging hushed whispers or releasing disgusted gasps, he couldn’t stop entering you over and over as you bit back on every sound of bliss his thrusts issued forth from your lips.

The hand that cupped your cheek was put behind your head to support it, and allow him to thrust harder into you, each thrust forcing you against the cold stone wall. Perhaps it was the possibility of being caught by your own kin, or being defiled by him so openly, but your peak approached you far too quickly, more so as he adjusted his hips and brought your other leg up around his waist to make his cock reach an angle that had you gasping, whining and clenching around him ever so tightly.

“Go on,” he rasped, tilting his head forwards slightly to lick a flat stripe from the crook of your neck up to your ear, harshly biting down on your earlobe once. “Be a good girl and wet my cock, niece.”

It seemed that all your encounters before had taught your uncle one valuable lesson, because, when you eventually did what he said and your peak crashed over you with soaring pleasure, he moved his hand to clasp it over your mouth to stifle all the moans and whines that escaped your throat. You were loud when peaking, and perhaps that was even too loud for the corrupted prince.

“That’s it,” he purred, “making a mess all over my cock. Just how I like it.”

With a grunt, he reached between your bodies to rub your little bud, prolonging your high and intensifying the feeling of your body erupting in flames as your arousal dripped down his twitching cock.

Your cunt squeezed Aegon tight enough for him to reach his peak with one final thrust, and, when his cock spent itself deep inside of your trembling walls, his hips stilled. It surprised you he didn’t pull out right after, staying nestled inside of you just a few moments longer until his breathing settled back to normal.

Your senses came back slowly, until it didn’t feel like a haze anymore, and made you terribly aware of what had happened. His hands ran over your arse before he lowered you back on the ground, a smug smirk gracing his features.

“Do you know that once I am king, I shall fly North to claim what is mine. You. And I do not care if I must burn down Winterfell or feed that Northerner to Sunfyre. I will come and I will take you.” The determination with which he said it rendered you speechless, as it was far from the Aegon you got to know growing up, and you feared for what the future might hold.

That night in your chambers, when you had changed into a black shift, you stood in front of the mirror and watched your reflection. Upon looking more closely at your neck, you spotted a purplish bruise right at your throat, and it appeared that mayhaps your uncle’s wish might be fulfilled sooner than anticipated when you had to face your mother in the morrow to break your fast.

Modified my taglists so: General Taglist: @aemondx @watercolorskyy @nothingqueens @urmomsgirlfriend1 @heimtathurs @croatianprincess @nina2697 @malfoytargaryen @sophie-looks-at-stuff @thetaygaryen @wintrr13 @winter-soldier-101 @kyuupidwrites @boofy1998 @thekinslayersswordhand @sagelovesreading @jiminie-08 @doublesparrows @at-a-rax-ia @fan-goddess @recorddust @tsujifreya @melsunshine @docmartinis @drwstarkeyy @kazuyatokue @moonlightfoxx @bbgmonsay

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spaceycowboys · 2 years

Text

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader

summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both.

warnings: smut, literally almost all smut very little plot, virginity loss, oral sex (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), creampie, breeding kink, light innocence kink, light size kink, use of pet names, blood is mentioned two (2) times, aemond has a huge cock i don’t make the rules, and breeder balls, eye patch gets taken OFF when aemond fucks his lady wife, implied jealousy, implied voyeurism (? just incase?), out of character aemond (?), i think thats all?

notes: i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift

word count: 5.3k

The wedding had been lovely, truly, but you think everyone could tell your heart wasn’t really in it. Few smiles reached your eyes, and you couldn’t lie that a part of you had felt slightly devasted you were being married in the Dragon Pit in the sight of the Seven, and not the Godswood in Winterfell that you’d come to love during your time in Cregan Stark’s presence many years ago.

You’d thought it was a grand wedding, perhaps too grand for the marriage of a second son, but Aemond is a Prince, so what did you know, besides that and the feeling that the Hand and Queen were trying to sway your father’s loyalty to them when King Viserys joins his late wife, perhaps even go as far as to hope for the favor of your lady mother’s family.

An extravagant weeklong event. Tourneys and hunts and beautiful dinners with lots of dancing. Many lords and ladies had come, many of your friends from childhood present and even your eldest brother. It made the evening feel less lonely for you to be in the presence of people you know so well.

You had been surprised, however, to see the Princess Rhaenyra present with her husband (uncle?) and their children. You heard often of the animosity between the two families, and you were sure she wouldn’t have come. You’d been even more surprised when she had approached you at, a smile on her pretty face.

“Lady Tyrell, you make a most beautiful bride,” She smiles fondly at you.

Aemond tensed next to you, so did the Queen when her next words left her mouth before you could even let out a proper thank you for her compliment, “Though, I must say I am disappointed that your father had not chosen my own son to be your husband. We were heavily in discussion regarding it.”

Your eyebrows furrow as your head turned over in the direction of your father who was seated to your left, “I must say, Princess, I did not know I had many suitors.”

“Why would she want to marry your Strong son, dear sister, when she had better offers?” Aemond spit the words out hatefully at the same time you try to answer her, glaring over her shoulder at the son in question. Jacaerys.

You’d met him on a few occasions, and he was a kind boy. A little closer to your age than your now husband. You didn’t think you knew him well enough to warrant any sort of affections from him, but you suppose that doesn’t matter, since you’d only met Aemond once as children before your father received the letter of the marriage offer from the Hand of the King.

“Aemond,” Alicent had hissed through gritted teeth, “this is a joyous occasion, one you had wanted so desperately. So, please, do not.”

Your now husband huffed out a bitter laugh before grabbing his cup and drowning the rest of his drink. You furrow your eyebrows at her words and look to Aemond slightly confused. He wanted to desperately marry you?

Rhaenyra ignored his comment and stayed looking at you, eyebrows having a slight furrow at your words, “You are a beautiful young woman and you come from one of the great houses, I can promise you that your father was drowning in marriage offers. But I do hope you will be happy here, with my dear brother.”

She walks away before you could say anything, tensing to stop a flinch when Aemond slammed his cup down harshly.

“That fucking cunt. How dare she come over here and say all those things. As if we did not just get married. As if your husband is not sitting right fucking next to you.” He was seething, and it honestly shocked you. You have barely even spoken to him; you really didn’t think he even liked you much.

“Aemond, you will watch your mouth in front of your wife,” Alicent spoke out, slightly baffled that he would say such things in front of you, in front of your family.

Your father is tense next to you, and you place your hand on his own and squeeze. This can’t be that bad. You can endure it.

As you look at Aemond, you can’t help but wonder if he will even be so bad. As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand moves to rest tenderly on your own.

The rest of the evening blurs together until Aegon stumbled his way over to where you were seated, “I believe we should be approaching the bedding ceremony soon, dear brother?”

And though his words had been directed at your husband, you felt his lust and drunk eyes on you. The mention of the bedding ceremony had you tense, and Aegon’s eyes don’t do anything to soothe your nerves.

“There will be no bedding ceremony.” Aemond spoke without a waver in his voice. What?

Aegon’s head snapped towards his brother, “And why the fuck not? It’s tradition.”

Aemond hummed, unamused, “I will not make a spectacle of my lady wife.” His words make your heart soften slightly

“She will not be your lady wife for long if there is no proof.” Aegon tried not to sound as desperate as he felt.

“There will be blood on my sheets come morning and a babe in her belly,” Aemond spoke as he stood up, towering over his older brother before he moved his face close enough to where no one, except you- much to your embarrassment, “though I do suppose if you are that concerned, you may stand outside my quarters and listen for the confirmation that my marriage has been consummated.”

Aemond takes your hand and pulls you from the room after that, moving quickly as if attempting not to be noticed.

“Why are we not doing the bedding ceremony? Is it not tradition? Will we not get in trouble?” Your voice is slightly panicked at the idea of getting in trouble for not doing what you are supposed to do, causing him to stop outside the door of his chambers and look at you.

“I would not feel like a very good husband if there were a bunch of old men with greedy eyes seeing your bare body before I got to see it,” He looks serious, and he sounds it as well. Though his voice lowers slightly into a possessive tone when the next words come out, “I also would not like anyone to see it after I do.”

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Large hands take the many pins out of your hair before gently starting to unknot and remove the many intricate braids the servant girls spent hours doing not long ago. It feels like a waste, makes you feel as if you are a spectacle for viewing and gawking at only.

Which you suppose you are- if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been lucky to inherit not only your mother’s beauty, but as well as the charm that all the women from your lord fathers house seem to have.

You wonder why he insisted that the handmaiden leave, from what your mother told you it was typical of them to prepare you for the upcoming moments.

Your hair is abandoned for the strings at the back of your dress once Aemond has removed all the braids. The air is cold on your back and your hands are shaking when his own move to touch your bare skin in a way that no one else has. One hand is on the nape rubbing in an almost affectionate way as the other moves to pull the extravagant gown from your body.

You didn’t think you could get anymore tense than you already were, until your wedding dress dropped from your body unceremoniously onto the cold ground.

Goosebumps cover your body as you’re fully exposed to the cold air, despite the fire going in the fireplace. His hands move to map your body, starting at your shoulders and slowly moving down to your hips.

His lips on your neck causes you to gasp in surprise, your belly warming at the feeling of not only his lips on you but his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the skin and biting back a grown when the reach your ass.

His mouth moves from your neck to your shoulders, leaving wet, open mouthed kisses on your skin as he makes his way down your back. You close your eyes at the unfamiliar feeling stirring inside you, a surprised gasp escaping you when a dull bite lands on your hip.

You feel his smile against your skin as he does the same to your other hip before he stands up to make his way around your body.

He stands in front of you, fully clothed still despite having taken off all of your clothing, leaving you bare for him to feast upon with his eye.

Aemond’s hands are calloused and rough, you assume from years of sword training and dragon riding, as they caress your face. His bright eye locked on yours, watching for any reactions. Thumbs trace under your eyes, over your nose, and your lips.

“Have you ever been touched this way?” His voice is quiet as his hands move down your neck towards your collarbones.

“No, my Prince,” Your voice pitches up at the end when his mouth finds your neck again, his teeth piercing your skin again.

“Not even your own hands?” His tone is serious but the smirk you feel against your skin lets you know he’s teasing.

You feel your face heat up at his implication. “No. Never.”

Aemond lets out a pleased hum at your words, soft voice stirring something primal in him.

His mouth is on yours before you can think of something else to say. His lips are a little dry, something you didn’t notice when he kissed you earlier at the wedding. One hand grips your hip as the other tangles into your hair, tugging lightly causing you to gasp. He takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, all of it is, though. You’re overwhelmed and throbbing at your core.

Can he hear your heartbeat as well as you can? It’s pounding in your ears along with a rush of heat that takes over your whole body.

His tongue coaxes yours to move against it, and you wonder if this is how it’s supposed to feel. If you’re supposed to feel this good. Are you even allowed to feel this good? Your handmaiden had told you on many occasions that men only cared for their own pleasure, and you would be feeling a lot of pain. This didn’t feel like anything she described.

Aemond pulls his mouth from yours and looks at you with a hooded eye, pupil so blown you can’t see the blue of it. There’s a light flush on his cheeks as he looks at your swollen lips.

“You are quite beautiful, my lady.” It’s said so quietly, you wonder if it was supposed to be a secret. You’d like to know all his secrets, you think.

When you don’t respond, his mouth attaches itself to your neck. A sharp pain if him biting is followed by a light sucking as if to soothe it.

You aren’t sure where to put your hands, they’ve stayed at your side due to your shyness and uncertainty.

“Have you been with many women?” The question leaves your mouth before your mind even processes that you’ve asked it.

His mouth stops moving against your skin as your blood runs cold, shaking, and wide eyed when he pulls away to look at you.

Sharpe eye studies your features, like a lion about to eat a lamb. Or, perhaps, a dragon ready to burn a rose.

He steps back, taking your hand as he sighs and looks away from you in, shame?

“When I was thirteen, Aegon took me to a brothel. Told me it was time to get it wet,”

You grimace at his word choice, but when you see how he’s looking at you, you squeeze his hand.

“To put it lightly, my dear lady, it was not a very nice experience. I have been with very few women since,”

Shame fills you at his words, and before he can continue you speak quickly, “I am so sorry, I did not mean to push you into speaking about an event you-“

His hands are back on your face, holding your cheeks, “You are my wife.” It’s a statement, and his words come out slightly harsh, “You are entitled to every piece of me. I will tell you everything you wish to know about me,”

His kiss is full of fire this time, claiming your lips with such an intensity. His body is pressed full against yours; you can feel his toned chest through his shirt. The fabric is soft against your chest, and as if they have a mind of their own, your hands start grasping at them hem of it desperately.

“Aemond,” It’s the first time you’ve spoken his name that way, he likes the way it sounds. Desperate, needy. Maybe he just likes that it comes from you.

Aemond was nine the first time he saw you, still had both eyes back then. You’d been visiting the Keep with your father. The King wanted updates about something, Aemond didn’t know or care what it was. All he knew was that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

You had such grace and were so kind. Helaena didn’t have many friends at court due to her fascination with insects. But you held all the creepy crawlers she held out to you, spent the day reading to her so she didn’t have to pull herself away from the bugs.

You were younger than him, but he didn’t care. He liked the way your voice sounded as you read to Helaena, how you laughed when she would whisper out name ideas for her bugs and then look to you to see if the name suited the bug, how you smiled at him when you would catch him sitting just far enough to not be seen but to hear.

You left with your father, and then a year later he heard a servant that you’d been taken to Winterfell to see how you’d pair with Cregan Stark.

After he lost his eye, he told his mother it was a fair trade, and that he’d gotten Vhagar in return, so it didn’t matter. But after he heard Rhaenyra speak of you to Daemon, of her hopes to marry you to Jace, he back tracked.

When they returned to King’s Landing from Driftmark, he told his mother he felt like he deserved to choose his future bride- and that he would want you in return for his lost eye. Truly the rest was history; she brought the request to Viserys stating that it was the least he could be given after what was taken from him.

Viserys allowed it but stated that it would have to be on your father’s terms on when and how if he agreed. It was no surprise that he did agree, though. Lord Tyrell is a proud man and agreed after a few years of discussion and persuasion.

“My lady,” Your thighs involuntarily press together at the way he says it, like he owns you; and he does.

He smirks at the way your body reacts to him just speaking, “May I touch you?”

You moan and breathe out a whine, “If you’d like,”

He pulls away from you just enough to remove the shirt from his body, and then he grabs your hands and places them on his chest.

“I’d like it if you would touch me as well,” His request comes out confident, almost like a demand. Almost everything he says causes more and more heat to flood your body and your lower stomach.

Your shy hands trace over the whole expanse of his chest, rubbing, squeezing, light scratching. Your eyes stay on his face, drinking in every reaction. The way he opens his mouth and lets out a breathy gasp, how his eye closes, and head goes back when you scratch lightly over his pectoral muscles.

With a sudden surge of confidence, you slowly move closer and place a light kiss on his neck. A quiet groan leaves his mouth in response, and you take it as encouragement to continue. A hand moves to your head, lightly holding the back of your neck in place as you suck and bite as he did to you.

You don’t register that he’s been moving you backwards until your knees hit the bed, causing you to gasp and pull away.

Both his hands are back on your face as he slowly lowers you so you’re lying flat, you go to question him when he doesn’t join you, but to your confusion he moves to his knees between your legs.

“What are you-“ The question dies on your tongue when you feel his hands move up your thighs and close to your core.

This is definitely not normal. You’ve never heard of this being part of any bedding. In a panic your hands rush to his face as it gets closer to your core, “What are you doing?”

His eye finds yours and studies your face before smirking, “Just lay back and let me make you feel good, wife.”

Before you can respond you feel his tongue on you, no- in you.

“Oh, gods.”

It’s really unlike anything you’ve ever felt, it’s nearly overwhelming. All you can feel is him. His hands on your inner thighs holding you open for him, his fingers gripping so hard they’re surely leaving bruises, his tongue, gods his tongue.

A finger lightly traces at your entrance, teasingly. The finger makes its way inside you as he sucks on your clit.

“Aemond,” He pulls away at his name leaving your mouth, eye finding you with your head back and hands clutching the bedding at your sides so tightly your knuckles are turning white.

His free hand reaches for one of your own, intertwining your fingers, eye not leaving your face as he adds another inside you, scissoring the two of them lightly while his thumb rubs circles on your clit.

“Do you feel good?” His tone is slightly cocky, but when your eyes look at his face, you see he looks slightly shy.

Before you can respond, his fingers curl inside you and you’re eyes are squeezing shut as a sharp whine leaves your mouth. He hums thoughtfully at your reaction before doing the same thing again, again, again until.

“Oh, please, please, please,” Your nails are digging into his skin, so hard it may be drawing blood, and your thighs begin shaking by his head when his mouth finds your clit again. His fingers don’t falter inside you until your voice pitches up due to the overstimulation.

You finally open your eyes and watch as he sticks the two fingers that had just been inside you into his mouth before looking at you with a smirk as he leans his head back down to lick from the bottom of your cunt back up to your clit.

Wheezing, your thighs move to close themselves as both your hands reach for his head to push him away from you.

Aemond lets out a laugh as he pulls away from your cunt and crawls up your body. Big arms cage you in as he looks at you with something akin to adoration.

“You taste so good,” He says it in such an attractive manner, you’ve never though any words like that would sound so good coming from someone’s mouth. “Would you like to try it?”

You flush at his words, embarrassment filling you before you nod shyly. His smirk deepens as he presses his mouth to yours.

You moan at the feeling of his mouth back on your own, gasping when his hands places itself on your breasts and tweaks with your nipples, and Aemond takes the opportunity to shove his tongue in your mouth when you do.

The taste is slightly sweet, slightly bitter. Tangy, would be a better word, maybe like a Dornish wine or an orange. His cock is straining in his pants as he presses himself up against your cunt, the size takes you by surprise. It feels large, much bigger than his fingers and much too big to fit inside you, but between the feeling of his hands on your breasts, the heat coming off of his bare chest where your hands dig into his shoulders, and the taste of yourself on his mouth as his tongue maps out the inside of your mouth.

A surge of boldness fills you and you remove a hand from one of his shoulders and reach between the two of you, grabbing lightly and unsurely at his cock. The action causes him to pull away from you as a surprised moan leaves his mouth.

There’s a fire in his eye as he looks at you, watching you as you look up with him with uncertain yet shining eyes at everything you’re feeling for the very first time. At his hands no less.

A smirk crawls it’s way back on it’s face, “Do you want to make me feel good, little wife?”

“Yes,” Your answer causes him to let out a pleased hum, but to your confusion he pulls your hand away from his cock.

“Next time I’ll teach you how to please me the way I did you. I don’t want to overwhelm you this time,” His eye holds tenderness as he says the sweet words that light your body on fire.

“This is not how I expected tonight to go,” Your shy words cause a sympathetic smile to show on his features.

“Many husbands don’t care for their wife’s pleasure,” His hands are untying the laces on his pants as he moves up from the bed to strip himself of them. Pride fills him when your eyes widen at the site of his cock.

It’s long and thick, it sits hard and proud up against his stomach, almost hitting his naval. It’s as pale as the rest of him, slightly red at the tip. A bead of precum drips from the tip and down his shaft, your eyes follow it to his balls. There also big, no surprise. The hair so pale that if there is any, you can’t see it. They look heavy, almost uncomfortable.

“Does it hurt?” The question spills out of your mouth, and Aemond wants to laugh until he sees how serious you are.

“No, it’s just uncomfortable,” You’re wide eyes find his face again, another question that almost makes him laugh.

“Will it fit inside me?” You really don’t think it will, or if it does, it’ll be in your stomach. The though makes you nervous.

“We’ll go slow, if you’d like,” He crawls back on top of you, hands finding your thighs so he can fit his body in between them.

His cock is hot against the skin of your thigh, the tip lightly brushes your folds causing you to shiver. His hand grabs at the base of his cock, guiding the tip from your clit to your hole, then back up. Little gasps leave you every time it bumps against your clit or catches on your tight hole.

Aemond holds a lot of restraint, but he can only hold so much, “I’m going to put it in now,”

He looks to you for you to consent, but tenses when your hands shyly reach up at the leather straps of the patch covering his eye.

“Can you take this off?” Your eyes hold no fear, just slight uncertainty.

His face doesn’t change at all, “I’d rather not scare you-“

“I am bare before you, as your wife. You could be bare for me as my husband, as well.” You’re voice doesn’t shake at all, for the first time all evening, he notes.

With a sigh, he takes his hand from your thigh and closes his eye as he takes the patch off. He doesn’t want to see your inevitable reaction of fear or disgust before you turn over and have him take you from behind.

Aemond flinches when he feels your hand tracing his scar, from his forehead, over the sapphire in place of where his eye should be, down to where it ends.

He hears you take in a shaky breath before your mouth is diving up towards his, and for the first time all evening you’ve taken control of something. He enjoys it, the way your tongue forces its way into his mouth.

He kisses you back with the same amount of energy, sucking on your tongue and nipping at your lips until you pull away. His eye studies you, the lust filled look in your eyes and flush covering you with swollen, wet lips.

“You may take me now, Aemond,” The words are but a whisper, but he hears you clearly.

His cock is, now, painfully hard as he nods and tightens his grip so he can carefully guide himself inside you.

He hisses though his teeth at the feeling of your cunt, slick and warm and tight, enveloping his cock. You’re the tightest thing he’s ever felt.

An animalistic feeling nearly overcomes him. He feels a primal need to shove his cock all the way inside you, rip through your maidenhead and fuck you full of him. He want to see your blood on his cock as he thrust inside you, fill you full of him, fuck you so hard there’s no questioning if his seed took tonight.

The feeling is slightly different for you. The stretch is uncomfortable, and it stings slightly, it causes you to feel so full you may burst or overfill. He goes slow, like he promised, but you can feel his body shaking above you as he restrains himself from taking you like an animal.

When he reaches the barrier of your maidenhead, he halts, “I have to push a little harder, here,”

A flash of fear flashes through your eyes for a brief moment before you nod for him to continue.

With a shaky exhale, he pulls back slightly and then pushes forward sharply, a little too sharply. Because the next thing he knows you’ve got tears streaming down your face and his pelvis is flush with yours. It’s hot and so, so tight. It, you, feel so fucking good.

His mouth is hanging open slightly as he breathes heavily, trying to gain control over himself. When he looks down at you, he feels guilt coarse through him.

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry,” You take not that while his voice doesn’t sound sorry, his eye shows that he is. Hands reach for your cheeks so he can wipe the tears that have been falling from your eyes away.

You remove an arm from around his shoulder and move your hand to grip at a wrist that is by your face, “It’s okay-“

His voice is strained, “Oh, fuck, it’s not. I told you we would go slow,”

His eye holds guilt, but you can’t help but notice how beautiful he looks above you. No eye patch covering his features, his hair, though still pulled back, slightly messy, sharp facial features gleaming in the moonlight and the light from the fire.

He thinks you look unreal. Hair, still slightly curled, sits around you beautifully, eyes are gleaming with stars in the despite the tears from the pain still lingering, lips bruised and swollen from his own mouth.

“You can move now,” He looks unsure at your words and goes to speak his protests, but you interrupt. “Take me, husband.”

He obliges to your demand, pulling his hips back before pushing them forward. He goes slow at first, in and out at a steady rhythm, relishing in the moans and gasps and whines that leave your mouth, the chants of his name Aemond, Aemond, Aemond.

He dips his head to kiss your cheeks, down your jaw and latches onto your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he starts thrusting deeper, harder. His pelvis grinds against your clit, and between that sensation, the pace of his thrusts when his cock hits the same spot his fingers found earlier and up to your cervix, his mouth on your neck, it doesn’t take long for your cunt to start clenching on his cock harder.

A deep groan leaves him at the way your cunt grips his cock, sucking him in and trying to keep him there forever. He would gladly stay inside you forever.

He pulls away from your neck to look at you, wanting to look at your face as you cum around his cock, as you feel his cum inside you.

Your eyes are rolled back so far he can only see the whites of them, bruises litter your collarbones and neck, marks of him all over you. Your nipples are hard and brush against his chest as your back arches while you lose yourself in the pleasure.

His balls tighten up more the longer he looks at you, and he moves his thumb to your clit, pushing you over the edge after one, two, three circles over it.

“Aemond!” Your voice sounds heavenly when you moan his name. His hips don’t falter their pace nor does his thumb stop rubbing until your cunt has loosened its vice grip on his cock. He fucks you through your orgasm and through the aftershocks before he grabs one of your legs.

You’re still shaking from your orgasm when you feel him lift your leg up and over his arm and onto his shoulder before he’s leaning over you. Your eyes shoot open at the newer, deeper angle.

“I don’t think-“

Before the sentence can leave your mouth, his hips pick up a pace very unlike the one you had just grown accustomed to. Your eyes cross as your hands shot up to his shoulders, trying to push him away and stop the overstimulation.

His head is thrown back in deep pleasure, groans and low moans of your name leaving his mouth as he listens to the wet slap, slap, slap of his body meeting yours. His pace picks up and becomes less rhythmic as his orgasm hits him.

You cry out his name with tears running down your face as your cunt clenches down for a third time, squeezing him so tightly that all he can do is push all the way in and let his cum flood you. His hips lightly move back and forth, fucking himself and you through your orgasms as you feel his cum fill you so much it starts slipping out around his cock and down your ass.

He stays inside you as your shake in the aftermath, feeling sweaty and sticky as he presses his cheek against your own, breathing you in and just feeling you for a while before he finally pull back just enough to look at you. Bodies still pressed together, cunt still plugged with his cock to hold his cum in, to make sure it takes. To make sure his son is filling you.

His eye is holding yours in a stare, and a soft smile takes over his face as you smile up at him tiredly. He feels something warm ignite in his chest as you look at him, the glow of the orgasm, the smile on your face, a sparkle in your eyes that looks like stars.

Aemond presses his mouth to yours before you can say anything. He wonders to himself if he can light your world up the way you’re already doing his.

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spaceyaemonds · 1 year

Text

starry eyes sparking up my darkest night

pairing: aemond targaryen x female!tyrell!reader

summary: aemond has only wanted two things in his life. a dragon and to marry the pretty tyrell girl, now he has both.

notes: REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG. i am a whore for a villain. aemond is so hot i love him. this is a side blog, i just didnt want to post on my main blog, im fairly rusty at writing smut, so any and all feedback will be greatly appreciated!! please interact if you see this because i think tumblr hates me:((!! title credits: call it what you want by taylor swift

word count: 5.3k