#hotg

[djorgcre]

“till-“ IM NOT STOPPING

[live-tweeting-hotg]

You Don't Think, Do You [Daemon x Reader]

summary: the princess of Dorne struggles to see eye to eye with the Rogue Prince.

warnings & content: heavy smut 18+ (minors dni), porn with little plot, non/dubcon, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, mean!dom!daemon, rough sex, fingering (fem receiving), p in v, creampie, titty slapping, he puts a sword to her neck, power imbalance, size kink, light breeding kink, degradation, dumbification, mentions of arranged marriage, rhaenyra? who's that (this is so nasty I'm not sure why I wrote this)

words: 2.5k

You let the heavy door shut swing behind you, feeling your annoyance threatening to bubble over. The crown princess of Dorne, regal, powerful, tremendously able… shipped off to this miserable rock to sign a perfunctory piece of paper. You wanted to scream, thought better of it, and let out a tight breath of air somewhere between a hiss and a sigh. 

It was almost like you were being punished for something, yet the entirely civil pretence of it meant you didn’t quite dare ask.

You stand in the room rigidly, exhausted, yet restless with a twitchy sort of tension. To your side, on the large sprawling table, you spot a set of ornate wine cups, fighting off the urge to smash one onto the ground. You were a guest, you reminded yourself, and the renewal of the treaty was necessary nonetheless. A pointless feat, but the prince seemed satisfied enough with the content, despite his bored demeanour at the meeting. 

The thought of him almost set you off again. He had spent the entire evening listening to you present the treaty with a raised brow, insisting that you explain every line to him in detail even though there wasn’t a single difference between this and the one preceding it. He smirked when you talked, scoffed when you paused, and spent the remaining time staring at the low cut of your dress. 

If this was in Dorne, you think you may have had his eyes cut out. 

The knock at your door was a welcome distraction to your agitation. You blink, realising you had spent a good few minutes standing in the middle of the empty room like an idiot, turning to answer the door. 

“Princess, I’ve just been made aware of the most interesting thing,” Daemon declares at you when you open the door, before you can even greet him. His frame almost obscures the entire doorway, the scabbard of his sword colliding loudly with the doorframe, leaving you with a strange sense of claustrophobia. He was disorientating, you decided.

“What,” you say back dumbly, after a brief pause, not entirely certain what else you could reply given the strange situation.

His frame slides forward without warning, and you move back instinctively as he lets himself into your— his— room. “I hear of unfavourable things in Sunspear,” he says, fixing you under his gaze. “I hear of treason, plots against the King…”

“Spies,” he finishes softly, face impassive, watching you intensely to gauge a reaction.

You are entirely lost. 

“I am unaware—” You begin, before he cuts you off again.

“Are you a spy, princess?” The words are soft, almost chiding, and you think you spot the hint of a smirk at his lips. 

You were so dizzy you almost felt nauseous. The context of this was absurd. He was in your room, alone and late, interrogating you whether you were spying— for who?! you wanted to scream. Your rising unease made it more and more difficult to be civil.

“Who would I be spying for?” you say, slowly, tone incredulous. “This is… most strange, and unfounded—” you find your voice rising steadily as your confusion gives way to indignation, and more annoyance. 

He hums, crosses his arms casually, and you could swear you saw his eyes twinkling. 

“—and insane!” you finish, throwing the word at him like a pointed rock. He cocks his head lazily and dodges it. 

“You’re getting very worked up over something unfounded, princess,” he remarks, uncrossing his arms, voice suddenly quieter as he stalks towards you. You don’t move back, because you want to slap him when he comes close enough. 

“If this is a jest, I fail to see the amusement,” you tell him sharply, the regal certainty seeping back into your stance, even as he towers over you. 

Up close, you notice the fine lines of his sharp, angular face, the eyes set deep into them and the coldness behind his haughty demeanour. When he takes another step towards you, you step back, suddenly uncertain.

“I think I just need to check, princess,” he says softly, almost apologetic. “if you’re carrying… anything untoward. It’ll be a formality.”

your anger flares. “I will not be subject to your ridiculous whims.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes darken. “It’s a simple search, princess. Hardly ridiculous.” 

“I don’t think—” your voice rises hotly, then falls flat as you’re interrupted by the sharp grate of his sword as he bares his blade, cocking his head almost thoughtfully, raising it to rest at the side of your neck. It is almost wider than your shoulder. 

“No,” he coos, smirking down at you. “you don’t think, do you.” He tilts his blade so it digs into the soft skin under your jawline. “I need to search you, princess. And I won’t ask again.”

He is clearly fucking insane, you realise. 

“…Alright,” you breathe out slowly, agreeably, the heat draining from your voice, and he hums appreciatively before sheathing his sword. 

“Turn around, princess. Arms out.” 

You stand rigidly as he moves behind you, feeling his large hands rest on your shoulders, practically breathing down your neck. A pool of dread settles in your stomach. You knew of his reputation, as did everyone else in the Seven Kingdoms, but with you…?

He moves slowly, deliberately, down the length of your arms, his hand wide enough to almost circle it entirely. He returns to your waist, feeling the curve of your hips through your gown, tutting when you shift uncomfortably. “Behave,” he chides at you as he moves higher, practically palming your tits through your dress. He doesn’t miss the opportunity to deal out a harsh squeeze, huffing out a laugh as you flinch.

“I fear the princess is hiding too much,” he breathes into your ear, arm snaking around your waist as you stiffen uncomfortably, pressing you back against his firm chest. His free hand pushes down the neckline of your dress insistently. “I think she’ll need to bare some more loyalty to her prince.” 

Your face flushes as you swallow thickly. “This is improper,” you say weakly.

He shoves you hard from behind as you squeak in surprise, turning to face him with wide eyes. “Strip,” he said simply, face cold. His sword swings at his side.

You swallow again, staring at him, but he meets your gaze cooly with his strange violet eyes, watching you as you slowly unlace your dress, letting it fall to your feet with a soft thump. 

“The rest too,” he states softly, and you comply tensely, your face burning. You stare at the floor, completely bare before him as he crosses his arms again, drinking in your humiliation like a fine vintage. 

“A fine sight,” he hums appreciatively at last. You grit your teeth, sensing some vague end to his game, before he sighs again. “Forgive me for being thorough, princess.”

Your eyes widen as you hear his smirk. “Bend over the table.” 

“You can’t,” you blurt out without thinking, the colour draining from your cheeks. “Please, no—”

“You will bend over the table, or I will do it for you.” His voice is smooth and casual, as if he had been commenting on the weather. “And I promise it’ll hurt you a lot more.”

Your legs feel like lead. Your entire body feels like lead as you somehow walk yourself over, bending awkwardly over it. Like a slab of meat, you thought viciously. It is almost too high for you, and you’re left on your tiptoes, gripping the edge of the table with white knuckles as your face burned. He comes up behind you, tutting. “You know what to do, princess. Legs apart.”

You feel your spine tingle viscerally as you comply, spreading yourself completely before him. The first strike catches you completely off guard as his hand comes down firmly on your bare cunt, forcing a choked scream out of you as your hips buck unconsciously from the contact. It burned your pride more than the stinging shock on your sex. Daemon only laughs as his hand finds the small of your back, shoving your hips back onto the edge of the table as you gasp in pain. 

“Such a sensitive little thing,” he mocks. “I think you need to be reminded how to behave, hm?” You yelp as he slaps you again, then another time for good measure, as you writhe and whimper under him, tears brimming your eyes. “All talk, aren’t you? Just won’t shut up in that hall, think you’re so fucking smart…” A slap landed directly on your bud, the pain making you scream out. 

The way he treated you, the painful stimulation, and the fact that he had you naked bent over a desk whilst he was fully dressed…

He slid a finger along your folds, laughing quietly to himself. “My little princess liked that, hm? My, you’ve made quite the mess.” You feel it as he spreads your growing wetness down your thigh, hips twitching at the sensitivity. You are suddenly somewhat grateful that he has your face pressed into the desk. 

“What?” he mocks again. “Nothing to say?” 

You open your mouth, ready with a retort before he shoves two thick fingers into your wet heat, ripping a pained moan from you. You were certainly wet enough, but the stretch still stung, especially with his uncaring force. 

“That’s more like it,” he snorted as he scissored his fingers, stretching you out, feeling inside you casually. “Nothing here, princess,” he hummed innocently as he curled his fingers into a particularly sensitive spot inside you, smirking as you tightened around him involuntarily, sobbing. “It’s a shame… I could have had you put in the dungeons for treason, hm? Then I’d take you on your knees, yeah? Maybe I still can… Just needs my cock in your throat to shut you up, my little whore…” 

Your mind swims uncomfortably. His voice in your ear, the cold wood grating against your abused breasts, his fingers, filling you up in the way yours never could, the wet sounds of him fucking into you… His free hand comes down to rub furious circles around your pearl, and you sob out his name. 

“Yeah, princess?” he groans into the soft shell of your ear. “You’re close, I feel you getting tighter. Come on then, fuck, my royal whore, come on my fingers…”

You come apart with a silent cry, arching your back into him, tears streaming down your face as he tears your peak from you. He fucks you through it lazily, his fingers pumping into you, slowing only when you whimper from the overstimulation. He wipes his hand on your thigh, not giving you a second to recover before he drags you back up by your hair. 

“I apologise for not believing you, princess,” he breathes into your ear, as your eyelids flutter. Distantly, you register the sound of him undoing his breeches, lowering them just enough to take out his thick, weeping cock, giving it a few impatient jerks. “You’ve proven yourself to be… quite innocent, on this matter. But it’s improper for a host to let his guest leave him feeling so empty, isn’t it?” 

You barely register his words, whimpering helplessly as he pulls your legs either side of him, your face coming to rest awkwardly on his chin. “You’re not even fucking listening, are you,” he huffs, rubbing soothing circles on your back, dipping his head closer to speak to you. “I was just telling how I’m going to fuck your dripping hole so fucking hard,” he groans, sheathing himself entirely into you with one rough thrust, “that you’ll feel it in your fucking throat.” 

You scream out at the pain as he holds you, shushing you as you cling to him, clawing at his back. You feel him through the haze, deep and firm, too big inside you, splitting you open. When the initial sharpness of the pain fades, you’re left with a strange ache deep inside you, contracting desperately around him. Daemon tests shallow thrusts into you, grunting into your ear as he lowers you onto his cock, slapping your breasts to watch them bounce. “I knew you fucking liked it, slut,” he groans, squeezing experimentally at your throat. You whimper incoherently, feeling him thrust inside with more force.

“Too… big,” you complain hazily, through a hiccup of smaller moans that he forced out of your mouth. The angle was cruel. He had lifted you up, then thrusted up into you from below, trapping you between your weight downwards and his cock upwards. His arms trapped you in, holding you to his much larger chest as he nuzzled into the crook of shoulder, laughing.

“Yeah, too big for you?” he mocks. “Hurts, does it?” Daemon bites into your shoulder, groaning into you as you squeeze around him. “We’ll just have to fuck you open until you learn to take your husband’s cock, hm?” 

You register his words dimly, unable to really do much about it as you stare up at him through dazed eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. 

He reaches down, cupping your cheek as he continues breaking you apart. “Heard that, princess? Why do you think they sent you here instead of anyone else, hm?” He laughs again when he hears you sob. “You’re crying? Fuck, I love that.” 

“I won’t…” you grit out, voice almost breaking.

“You will,” he insists sadistically, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your cheek, licking at your tears. “see, they said you might not come willingly, but I suppose you won’t have a choice when I fuck a babe into you, yeah?” 

you whimper as he fucks into you with renewed vigour, your walls clenching involuntarily at his words. “So you can listen,” he groans into you, hand tightening in your hair to yank your head back. “keep doing that, yeah, good girl…” 

His free hand dips lower. With you impaled wide open on his cock, your bud is left vulnerably exposed, and he flicks at it mindlessly, drinking in your whines. “Gonna fuck my seed into you, princess,” he breathes. “Gonna fuck it so deep you’ll drip for days, my pretty little wife, such a good little wife for me…”

He slaps your tits once, twice, and then you’re spasming uncontrollably around his cock as your peak rips through you, feeling his warmth flood into you and drip down your thighs. You crumple into him, sobbing against his chest as he strokes your hair, shushing you. You feel his cock slip out of you as he picks you up gently, carrying you to the bed, stepping over your discarded clothes. 

You’re laid down onto the cushions softly, half-conscious, and Daemon wraps his arms around you from behind. “You might as well learn to like it, princess,” he hums into your ear as you’re flipped over into the bed, his hands on you again. “I don’t think I’ll be finished with you for a long time.” 

[maarigolds]

Viserys: I love all my children equally! Rhaenyra… *looks at smudged writing on hand* Agony, Helmet, and uh… Amoeba

Alicent: what about Daeron?

Viserys: who?

[celesztialbody]

ewan mitchell icons & headers

ewan mitchell attends the @BritishVogue and @TiffanyAndCo "fashion and film" party at annabel's, london.

like or reblog if you save follow me for more see the pinned

[daisiesanddaffodils3]

Willow Maid (Reader x Yandere!Daemon)

Synopsis: Based heavily on the song “Willow Maid” by Erutan, one day Daemon goes through the forest, only 

Warnings: Usual yandere warnings, obsessive behaviour, violence, proceed at your own risk.

Author’s note: I absolutely love this character so lets get this bowl rolling.

You laid upon the mossy forest floor, upon the home where you were born again. At your original birth you were silent, unmoving, cold. Your parents were hopeless and that night they laid stiff until sleep stole them where they heard a voice, like a mothers - bring her to me, she whispered. They didn't know how they knew to take you to the forest where you now reside, but they laid you affront an old willow tree and left, safe within the embrace of the Mother.

You grew within that wood, blossoming like a sweet rose, wrapped in the embrace of the Mother. Vines grew along your arms and legs, flowers bloomed in your hair and your eyes glowed a deep green of the forest. Men tended to stay far from your forest, scared of the magic within your ancient home - until a dragon came hunting.

In a simple dark leather tunic, prince Daemon Targaryen marched through the forest, his eyes sharp. He needed to get away from King's Landing; between his brother, and petty nobles, it was no wonder that half of the Targaryens go mad. He came with the intention to hunt, but found himself exploring instead. During his patrols of King's Landing he had heard rumours of this part of the woods, that it was haunted...

When he heard a voice ringing out in the distance, beautifully echoing throughout the woods. In like a trance, he walked towards it, needing to see the fair creature who's soft tune blessed his ears. Through the thicket he wandered, brushing aside bushes, the air dense with anticipation until he saw her. Sitting by an old gnarled willow tree, encircled by red toadstools.

His breath hitched.

He had seen many fair maids before, and bedded most of them, but the being before him was otherworldly. Her long h/c hair like a halo, her flawless s/c skin with deep green vines snaking along it, and those mysterious glowing eyes... all wrapped up in a f/c dress which flowed around her, wild flowers encrusted upon it. To summarise, enchanting.

"Come with me my maiden, come from thy willow bed"

She had no visible reaction other than serenely shaking her head. "See me now, a ray of light in the moon dance, see me now, I cannot leave this place, hear me now, a strain of song in the forest. Don't ask me to follow where you lead"

He had left that day, knowing he would return.

When time allowed it, retraced his steps back to his fair maid. He was dressed in his finest black shirt, the blood red Targaryen symbol upon his left arm, in which he held a delicate flower. What were jewels and gold to a creature of the forest? His love's wavy/straight/curly hair like the fire burning within him, her eyes gleaming like emeralds. Her quiet youthful beauty beckoned him forth, where he stood before her. He outstretched towards her, offering the flower.

"Girl my heart you've captured, I would be your groom"

Her soft hand brushing his as she took the flower -

"I'd wed you never, not near, nor far, nor soon"

The dragon was speechless at her impertinence, as she continued:

"See me now, a ray of light in the moon dance, see me now, I cannot leave this place, hear me now, a strain of song in the forest. Don't ask me to follow where you lead"

He left in a daze that day, before the fog cleared and all that remained was anger. The kind of anger that had scorched nations, conquered kingdoms. The kind that only a dragon could process. He would return the next day, and he would not leave alone.

He returned on the back of Caraxes, he'd take the green eyed fairy and she'd be his wife. Madness raging through him as he imagined raising his heirs with her, living the rest of their eternity together. He reached the thick forested grove where she resided. For once a look other than serenity graced her face, fear. He couldn't imagine a more mesmerising view.

"Dracrays" He shouted, his voice like thunder, he would free her from this cursed forest. Caraxes opened its maw and released fiery carnage upon the old willow, setting it ablaze. At this his young bride screamed, horrified as he began setting her forest alight. Flying back and forth on his great beast, he had no mercy. She sprinted away when some stray flames licked her hair and dress, burning them in the chaos. He was like a man possessed. Any life or green that persisted, he snuffed out. She tried to escape but the walls of flames were too hot, too big, she collapsed in this middle of her charred forest. Only moisture left was her tears.

Once he satiated his destructive urge he landed (dragon), and went through the graveyard of trees to collect his love. She wasn't hard to find, the only colour betwixt the husks, face hidden in her arms and she mourned her once beautiful home. He took her arm and forced her to her feet, she was unable to resist.

As they left the forest she collapsed upon the earth, the vines on her arms drying up and falling off, the flowers in her hair withering and falling out. Her emerald eyes fading to a e/c. He stood before her as she looked up at him, her now (hair length) hair singed, scraps of her dress clinging to her, tear streaks breaking apart the ash on her face, as she looked hopelessly up at him. And she had never looked more beautiful to him.

[urfavesim]

ok i’m not team black or team green because im not like 100% into hotg but like why was everyone hating on alicent for wanting like actions to be taken over aemonds eye.

like i get that it was in retaliation for aemond goin crazy on the other kids but like they came out of this for the most part fine and he lost his fucking eyeball.

I feel like being a mother and having that happen to ur child alicent had every right to want some sort of action to be taken for what happened to her kid (although wanting his eye was a bit too far).

I also feel like she had every right to be upset that nothing was happening/going to happen (i think nothing happened, idk i need to rewatch the series)due to the kings favoritism towards rheanyra which is a whole diff issue

idk am i just wrong? like did i miss something in the show?

[notsosecretlyalesbian]

Eve Best as Rhaenys Targaryen in House of the Dragon | 01×02: The Rogue Prince

[mousechuckles]

the blood of the dragon runs thick

[the-girl-in-the-high-castle]

Some honest opinion

I wanted House of the Dragon to succeed so bad. I wanted it to rule tv for the next decade, because GoT and aSoIaF are something very sacred to me. But I have to be honest. It didn’t. Not for me. When I saw the trailer I was so happy that it gave that Westeros feeling again and I couldn’t wait for it to air. Then it fell flat to me. Maybe I set the bar too high, but it was just not that good. Actually, it was pretty bad at times and the glorification of the bad and cheap actually gave me the answer as to why S8 was allowed to happen. 

I expected to like The Sandman. But I didn’t like it, I loved it. I loved it far more than HoTD. And I hadn’t considered it that much of a great story, since I’m familiar with the comics. But it’s definitely the greatest adaptation in recent years. And it’s hard for me to admit that, since like I said, aSoIaF is sacred to me. I am a person who is bothered by things that are too woke, but nothing about this show bothered me except the part of the story that was straight from the comics because it was way too boring.

But what completely hit me in the face, heart and soul so unexpectedly, which is kinda obvious from my posts recently, is 1899 and no other show but 1899.

Almost two years ago I saw the teaser not even a minute long and I told myself “I’m gonna watch the hell out of this”. Since it had taken so long, I almost forgot about it, didn’t even watch the trailer, but once it was out, I jumped head first and my heart was completely taken by it and I don’t think I would ever be able to give it up. After so much disappointment I had in my favorite shows, after all of them got fucked and turned into dumpster fires, this was my saviour. I fell in love with this show, its characters and everything about it so deeply and utterly that I think it’s going to take years for me to recover from it. 

And of all of them, only 1899 was cancelled. There is no hope for humanity after all.

[lisaxbarnes]

i guess they didn't like the light exposure

[auroras-boreales]

Nuevos personajes para odiar, ya quiero que los dragones los quemen 🙂👍

[ares857]

internet find

If you want this project to continue, you can use the Paypal donation button on the web page of the blog. Any donation is welcome.

[live-tweeting-hotg]

closer to gods [a.t. x reader]

summary: when Aemond decides to bring you back to King’s landing as his captive, you learn just what it means to be closer to gods than to men.

pairing(s): Aemond Targaryen x Rhaenyra’s daughter!reader

content & warnings: 18+ content (minors dni), porn with little plot, pure pure filth, light bondage, sub/dom dynamic, incest, dub-con, fingering (fem receiving), p in v, creampie, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, size kink, light breeding kink, light corruption kink, mentions of blood, unsavoury and unrealistic activities on a dragon, i was gonna tag dark!aemond but this is probably just him being himself

wc: 1k

a/n: this is a loose sequel to another fic, my prince, but can be read as a standalone.

Aemond’s arms wrapped lazily around you as Vhagar bounded into flight. Ignoring your protests, he had taken the liberty to bind your arms behind your back with his belt, deeming it a “necessary precaution”. You are the daughter of the Rogue Prince, he had said, smirking as he tied you up. Who knows what you’re capable of? You were powerless to do little else except to huff and lean back into his arms.

Vhagar surged up, clearing the heavy thunderclouds and you emerged into the blue, cloudless realm of the high skies. You breathed a sigh of relief, letting yourself relax a little. Aemond drops his chin onto your shoulder, breathing into your ear softly. “Does the ride please my princess?”

You huff and his smirk grows. “Don’t sulk, my love. I’m sure you’ll make an… exquisite… wife.” His palm sweeps up lightly over your breasts, and your eyes shoot open.

“Aemond,” you warn him sharply.

“Yes, princess?” His tone is laced with false innocence. The pressure builds as he kneads into you slowly, making you bite back a moan. “You were saying?”

“This is… unbecoming.” you try again, your words trailing off into a gasp as you feel his lips dance against your neck.

“Perhaps so.” His voice teems with a darker intent that sends a jolt of fear through you. “But who’s here to stop me?”

You see the dagger too late. With a flick of his wrist, Aemond cuts through the leather protecting your front, his hand ripping off the remainder of your smallclothes. You gasp, head reeling, before his fingers are rolling your exposed bud in a way that has blood rushing to your cheeks. “Stop,” you gasp out, hands straining weakly against your bonds.

“No.” His other hand dips to the front of your waist, cutting through your breeches to ghost a finger along your folds, letting your slickness coat him. He exhales in a soft laugh as you gasp again, shakily. His lips drop to your ear and his voice pierces you icily. “I only intend to take what is mine.”

His fingers enter you, fucking into you languidly, forcing a strangled moan out of you. “This is improper.” You have to choke the words out.

He hums thoughtfully against your neck. “Improper, princess?” His fingers curl cruelly inside you, and your hips grind against his hand before you could stop yourself. Dropping your head back, you bite on your lip to suppress another moan, feeling a dull edge of pain as blood began to trickle thinly down your jaw. Aemond tuts unapprovingly against your ear, twisting your nipple sharply and making you cry out. “My wife means to keep her little whines from me. Do you not find this improper?” His fingers roll deeper into you, stroking slowly along a particularly sensitive spot. Another finger enters you, stretching you out, and you almost choke on the fullness.

“You’re so fucking tight, princess,” Aemond groans. His thumb finds your clit and rips out the first real moan from you. You fight against your bonds again, futilely, and you wonder if he had planned this when he tied you up so tightly. “I wonder how your cunt would feel around my cock.” You hazily register his stiffness twitch behind you. A few more strokes along your clit and he feels you squeezing tightly around his fingers. “Aemond,” you moan out weakly. His name is a prayer on your lips.

With his hand buried in your cunt, Aemond Targaryen groans out against your ear. “Go on, princess. Cum for me.”

As if on command, your eyes roll back and you buck against his hand. Distantly, you feel yourself gush onto Aemond’s fingers as you convulse weakly around him. You moan brokenly, tears streaming down your cheeks, letting the fine, thin air rush across your cheeks and into your open mouth. His fingers freeze and pull out suddenly to grip your hips with a bruising strength that he had previously tried to suppress. Vhagar dives down, sensing her rider’s agitation, jolting you weightlessly upwards. You feel Aemond fumble with something behind you as he lets out a string of obscenities. “Fuck, princess, I’m sorry, I intended to wait, truly, but you’re so fucking— I can’t— I’m so sorry—”

The sounds barely reach you, and you briefly wonder what his words mean, before Vhagar sweeps upwards again, forcing you to land heavily downwards— down onto Aemond’s unsheathed cock. You cry out in surprise, wordless, as he tears past your maidenhead, cunt still dripping in spasms from your last orgasm, pain mingling with an ungodly fullness, and Aemond pulls you closer to his chest. He fills you to the brim, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. You feel him twitching within you, and you realise he is too big, stretching you too wide, he would split you in two if he took you—

“Princess…” He moans against you, eyes closed in pure relief, groaning as he felt your walls spasm around him. “You are truly fucking perfect.” You whine out loudly this time, back arched against his chest, your tits bouncing freely as Aemond lifts your hips to rut into you, setting an unrelenting pace. You cry out helplessly, your heightened sensitivity almost painful, but Aemond only tightens his grip on your hips. You flail again against your bonds, and he moves one hand upwards to pin your arms against his chest. “Behave,” he chides coldly, and his mouth finds its way back to your neck. “What would my dear uncle say if he saw me take you like this, hmm?” His voice drips with arrogance, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care.

Your throw your head back to look at Aemond, with the dark of his eye blown wide, mouth hanging lightly open, ruining you, fucking you senseless, and you lean against him to whine into his mouth. “Aemond… please…” You weren’t sure whether you were begging him to stop or to fuck you harder.

“Begging already, my love?” Aemond laughs mirthlessly. “Wait until I get you in a bed.” He drops his hand to rub your clit roughly, until you’re pulsing around him, lips parted silently as another orgasm is ripped from you. Aemond pumps into you roughly, chasing his own high, until you feel his seed, white-hot, spill into you. Your eyes prickle with tears, unused to the overstimulation, and Aemond kisses your head softly, his cock still twitching inside you. His cum is spilling out of you, trickling down your legs, and you know he has ruined you irrevocably. “I’ll wed you like this, my love,” he sighs contentedly against you. “with my seed dripping from your thighs and your belly swollen with my heirs.” He grips your hair and forces you to meet his eye. “I’ll drag you to the sept myself.”

Your vision clouds hazily and you mumble incoherently against his chest. Aemond hums against you, his hands propping you up, and you realise a moment too late that his cock is still hard inside you. Panic makes your skin tingle. “Aemond, please, I can’t—”

Your words are suffocated when he rolls lazily into you again. “Don’t pass out on me, princess.” His words are cool and soft. A promise. “I will fuck you back into consciousness.”

[cashwagon]

Has this been said yet?

[celesztialbody]

random icons

like or reblog if you save follow me for more see the pinned

[jamgoesart]

My first thought when I saw the new Aegon.

Peter Evans and Tom Glynn-Carney.