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#house of the dragon x reader
faetreides · 1 day
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summary: (dark lite) heir!jacaerys x afab servant!reader
cw: sweat/jace being a weirdo about it, dubcon, frottage, implied virginity loss, intentional use of minimal valyrian & i used a translator so don’t come for me, implications of jace intending to marry reader with or without their consent/reader thinking this is just sex but 💀, he didn’t say it but he would kill his family to make you queen, power imbalance (sorry y’all i just like it), wrote this at a vibrator’s pace (/j) so there are zero thoughts behind it
wc: 888 (✨🕯️)
block & move on if uncomfortable !!
do not translate, repost, or give ai my work
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“I am not certain about this, Jace…” You mumble, tugging at his sleeve so he’ll stop running towards his chambers. “I have to perform my duties in the kitchen, there is hardly time for this.”
Jacaerys Velaryon disarms you with a charming smile, too genuine and heartfelt to not return.
“No one will notice if I arrive at dinner a tad later than usual, there is no need to worry.”
The door is swiftly opened and shut in the blink of an eye. You find yourself gathered up in the prince’s arms and the swat to your bottom urges you to wrap your legs around his waist.
King’s Landing’s sweltering sun beats down on you from the window. Minuscule beads of sweat have already accumulated at your brow. Jacaerys hunches over you to lap them up as if he were a thirsty mutt, you can only wrinkle your nose in aversion.
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“Perhaps we should allow ourselves time to get to know each other before we do this, my prince.” You attempt to convince him, upholding your mother’s belief that intimacy is to be between married folks only. It does not mean you shudder in repulsion at the thought of Jacaerys making love to you. Only that your shame will always best your lust in battle.
“Yet I feel as if I have already known you for a lifetime, issa rūklon (my flower).” He whispers, brushing a hand against the blossom he had tucked behind your ear. The pronunciation is not as confident as someone like his mother’s.
Innocent walks in the gardens with a prince were only a gateway to depravity, you suppose.
You breath hitches when his lips ghost along your collarbone. You would do well to remember that Jaceaery has the potential to be as much of a dragon as the rest of his strange kin.
Your trembling hands clutch at the prince’s bare shoulders. His clothes tossed aside with little care, all of his attention on you. To push him away or bring him closer… you are wracked with indecision.
“Shh, be calm. You are the safest you have ever been, in my arms and in my bed.” The constant repetition of possessiveness is heightened by the glint of gold in Jacaerys’s irises.
“Lift your hips for me, ābrazyrys (wife).” Your brow furrows at the unfamiliar pet name, but you pay it no mind.
Your flimsy dress glides down your body, the cheap strings tying it together are in tatters.
Jacaerys offers you no respite and instead brings both of your wrists together in one hand, pinning them to the bed over your head.
“I am still a maiden, my prince, I have never even kissed a man before.” You nervously say.
His adoring smile widens, “I know, it is the same reason I decline offers to visit the brothels. Our firsts were meant to be shared with each other.”
The soft glow of candlelight illuminates Jacaerys hovering over you, allowing the sexual tension to build. Your grip on his shoulders slackens and you weave your calloused fingers into his brown hair.
If only you knew how much it reminded Jacaerys of his mother’s wedding to Daemon, the looks they exchanged as they tied their souls together.
“We have all the time in the world.” He reassures you, despite the fact that it was obviously not true. “I’ll be gentle”.
You gasp as he cups your cheek with his free hand and gently drops his body weight onto you.
He seizes your lips in a bruising kiss that you would have previously thought him incapable of. The roughness of his tongue entangling with yours drives you to tighten your hold on his hair and pull it. Jacaerys moans at the infliction of pain and rubs his naked flesh against you. The friction of the slow movements are suddenly frustrating, you feel the oddest desire for him to move faster.
You whine in unison with him when you separate from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. He licks it away with a flick of his tongue as he eyes bore into yours.
“Does that feel good, ābrazyrys (wife)? Your cunt is becoming wetter by the second.” He laughs, not cruelly, and continues grinding against your body.
“Yes…. my prince…. it feels …. so, mmm- amazing.” You struggle to reply, he was not even inside you and yet here you were bearing a striking resemblance to an animal in heat.
The sweat that your bodies produce makes the rutting sloppy, you have to frequently regain your hold on Jacaerys. His cock glides over your cunt and you throw your head back on the pillows. Something wet and sticky is smearing all over your belly every time he ruts against you.
This goes on until your body tenses up, your eyes widen and it is as if your gut clenches. Foolishly, you tug at his hair again but he just mouths ‘Yes!’ with his eyes screwed shut tightly as he keeps grinding. Your cunt pulses and a mix of white and clear fluid erupts from it and drips down to greet Jacaerys’s balls. His pace stutters then he glances down at the sight.
“Gods…. you served me a great deal. It is surely delicious, but I do hope that you are ready for me to return the favor.”
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simpingland · 3 days
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Heyy beauty!
Can i request a Harwin break my back Strong x wife Targaryen reader fic where he beats the shit out of someone who disrespects her. He gets out of it with no consequences, reader looks after him & it ends in smut💋
(I'd appreciate it if u could do more Harwin fics cause lord knows I'm thirsty for it😭)
How to fix an aching nose.// Ser Harwin Strong x Targ!Wife!Reader. Smut.
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Summary: Harwin cant believe his luck, married to a targaryan princess, being completely in love with her, her being madly in love with him...Not many believe his luck neither. Only his wife can prove him that its all real.
Warnings: p in v, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), a Lannister being punch.
Harwin was more than anxious to have you, his dearest wife, alone for more than the few moments you were allowed, to what extent could he reminisce about your wedding night? His mind was elsewhere during the hunt, listening only to his father's instructions, and ignoring the lords. Ever since he married you, he had felt the looks they gave him, full of envy of course. Few dared little more than stare, the stupidest could dare to vocalise it. And Lord Tyland Lannister was one of those fools.
"I see you are distracted, Ser Harwin," said the Lord with a mocking laugh as he watched the stag slip away from him at close range. "Marriage...always has the same effect on men."
He chuckled, a few laughed with him, but most gave him a dirty look, and Harwin set his spear aside.
"What effect do you mean, Ser Tyland?" he asked dryly.
"Well, the effect of women. They are a constant headache."
"I don't think you should speak so of wives when you haven't managed to marry a single woman since you've been at court, my lord." He wanted to leave it at that, but Tyland had taken offense.
"When one wields so much fortune, choosing a wife to entrust to him is a different task. I suppose you don't know what I'm talking about now, Ser Harwin."
Harwin walked toward him, towering over him. It clearly frightened him.
"I don't need to brag about money to show my wealth. And that I think if you are able to understand."
Tyland was silent for a second. Everyone had turned to watch the scene, except your father, the King, who was too sore to pay attention. None of them listened as your father asked for your presence to escort him to his tent without making a fuss. So Harwin turned to continue the hunt without being aware that his own wife was walking towards the scene. Neither was Lord Lannister.
"You certainly took a treasure for the little price you must have paid...you took a very possible wife from me." Tyland was whispering it to Harwin now, purposely irritating him. "Though...perhaps you did me a favor. A princess who chooses someone like you should not be driven by anything but lust and madness. Maybe your wife is a lot cheaper than we all thought."
Then Harwin exploded. With the first fist he knocked out two of Tyland's molars, and with the second he buried him in the mud. None of Ser Lyonel's orders were heard as he tore Tyland apart, only the insults towards you, raging. They tried to pull him away, but he was still there. And there you found him.
"HARWIN!" You shouted, running towards him. It took him a while to notice you, he looked at you, a little frightened that you had seen him be so savage.
"He insulted you" he said quietly, then looked at Tyland "YOU INSULTED THE PRINCESS!"
And he gave him one last kick before he was pushed away by the guards. He had to be pushed away until he was led out of the hunt, and he only looked at you, begging your forgiveness for the disturbance. Your father was disoriented, and only understood what was happening from the words of one of the guards. And you had to wait to get your father to his bed before you met Harwin.
"What happened?" you asked as you entered your tent. Harwin was waiting for you, on his back and standing. When he turned around you saw his nose was bleeding. You ran to wipe it. "Gods! Did Tyland do that to you?"
"He wishes it was him, my love...it was one of the guards."
"I suppose it's because you've hit him first, isn't it?"
He smiled, because he knew you as well as you knew him. And he watched your concern disappear with every second, seeing your smile again.
"I'm not going to let anyone walk all over me. Not me, not you," he said, kissing your neck as he hugged you, lifting you off the ground and pressing you against his chest.
"Oh, Harwin, and why do you say that?"
You wiped the blood from him as he told you the story. It was starting to bruise a little, but had stopped bleeding after he put a cold cloth on it, holding it patiently and letting it play with the ties of your dress.
"I don't want you to think I'm just a... a beast too. I hold my anger a lot more than you think. Only you make me feel at peace, wife." He ran his hand through your hair.
It certainly hadn't been easy to convince your father. The Strongs were beloved at court, but Harrenhal was not a place of good repute, and marrying the King's second daughter to a notorious brute like Harwin "Breakbones" Strong had caused much controversy. You succeeded after years of hiding in the corridors, and every night Harwin could only draw on his imagination to do more than kiss you, for he had always put your reputation and honour before his desires.
You had only been married a short time, but it had been a season since you two had spent time alone. Your elder sister Rhaenyra was keeping you by her side at night, uncomfortable with her first pregnancy, and in the mornings, Harwin was too busy catching up on his duties as heir to Harrenhal.
Still, it didn't take away a single ounce of excitement, you craved each other throughout the day, and Harwin always managed to pull you aside to talk or kiss you. Either was enough for him, but he really wanted you back in his bed.
"You don't look like a beast to me." You put your hands on his neck, sat on his lap, you could feel his bulge on your leg. "And even if you had looked like one, you forget I've never been the person who holds his reputation in the highest regard, remember?"
They smiled, Harwin remembered in fact, more than once he had had to push you out of his sight because you had guided his hand where maidens should not be touched, all before you were married. You kissed him first, and when he was training you watched him from your window, catching his eye and "accidentally" showing your breasts. In the dark of night he had to pick you up off the floor because you had knelt before him. And in between all those moments Harwin couldn't help but be captivated by you, begging the King for your hand.
"I remember everything. You are far more beastly than I, my wife..." His member began to grow as he remembered, your scent right there, he captured your lips.
"You have offended me," you faltered, pulling away from the kiss. "Show me who the beast is here, Ser Breakbones."
One swift movement and he unfastened the bodice of your dress, freeing your breasts, and brought one to his lips. And as it sank to your chest you giggled at his eagerness, enjoying the tingle that formed on your legs as you felt Harwin's saliva run over your tits.
"Do you find this amusing, my princess? Having me sit here?" He ran his hands under your skirt, stroking your pearl as if by accident, but you knew he wasn't, that he was doing it to ravish you.
"I do find it a bit funny, I'm afraid..."
He stilled your laughter by throwing you onto the bed they had set up for you. Remarkably smaller than the one in your room back in the Keep, but Harwin didn't plan to use it much. He removed what was left of your dress, leaving you now completely naked. Your body being a spectacle for him.
"Well I'm no clown, of the many tricks they know how to do, I doubt very much they know how to do this."
He rested one hand on the bed, circling you on top of you, and the other he used to turn you, your back, your ass facing the outside. He caressed your back, stroke both cheeck of your ass and finally touching your cunt. One finger entered first, stirring your discharge with your clitoris and eliciting a soft moan from you. He watched you watching him, mouth half open. He was so handsome, with his smooth coat but rugged features, Harwin was all man. He inserted a second finger, and the third was not long in coming. Then he began to shake his hand rapidly, lifting your entire pelvis to his rhythm. You couldn't help but cry out as you felt such continuous pleasure.
"No..." whispered Harwin, pulling his face closer to yours, "no one knows how to do this to you like I do..."
Pleasure engulfed you, and Harwin could see you come to orgasm, you moaned millimetres from his lips, which he felt as if it was feeding him. He let you rest, and before he could lick his fingers with your arousal, you took his hand to lick them for him. If he was already excited before, Harwin had to hold back a moan when he felt the friction of his own pants squeezing his erection.
"Now let me reward you, my Lord, for defending my honour..." you removed his shirt, and kissed his big abs. But you made him suffer as you reached for his trousers, unbuttoning them bit by bit, not until you had removed them completely did you focus on his member.
Fat and in proportion to your husband, his cock needed two hands to massage it well. First you gave him a little kiss on the tip, as if in greeting, and looked up at Harwin, who seemed impatient but loved your gaze as you knelt before him. You were beautiful from every angle, and your eyes sharpened from that perspective. He pushed your silver hair aside as an excuse to touch it, and he never pushed your head, you always managed to make him enjoy at your own pace. You licked the tip for a while, but before he could cum, you took as much of his cock into your mouth as you could, knowing which way to guide it so you wouldn't gag. You sucked slowly but intensely, using your cheeks to make your mouth tighter. You were just about to make him cum when Harwin decided to take the reins again.
He caught you by surprise when he pulled away from you to pick you up off the floor, placing you in his arms as he did when he rescued you from troubles you usually got yourself into. One arm around your back and the other around your legs, your hands resting on his shoulders and with the opportunity to kiss him right there. Indeed, you didn't need the bed very much. You didn't quite understand what Harwin was up to, but when you felt the tip of his cock at your entrance, your hair stood on end. He was moving slowly up and down you, preparing to bury himself all the way in.
"I am convinced that there is no better pussy than yours in all of Westeros, Princess..." his voice was husky, his scent captivated you, and he kissed you tenderly when he wasn't kissing you with tongue.
"So what are you waiting for to enjoy it?"
He lured you to his lips to distract you, but you finally felt him enter. Gently, but creating that special fraction you'd longed for for years before you were married. Harwin broke the kiss to moan, of course this was his favourite part of fucking. He didn't usually do it fast, he liked to pace himself, and for such a big, rough man, he liked to sink into your pussy delicately, whether it was his instinct to protect you, or his instinct to enjoy it. His hips set the pace, as he raised them, his arms lowered, and you felt his full length fill you. He began to speed up the rhythm, he had plenty of strength left, and when he increased you could hear him enjoying himself, making you enjoy yourself.
"I'm going to cum...I'm going to cum..." he announced.
Then he laid you back down on the bed. You had no plans to have children yet, so you liked to experiment a little. Harwin positioned your legs apart, and took out his cock to rub it against your clit, fucking your vaginal lips and causing you unparalleled pleasure. You had your second orgasm seconds before you felt Harwin's semen spilling out of your pelvis, with a sweet moan leaving your husbands lips.
He rested his forehead on yours, and you kissed his aching nose.
"Wow...you sure made me feel better, wife." He moved to your side, pulling a blanket over you both, cuddeling you in his arms.
"Yeah...I've missed you too."
"I meant the kiss on the nose...but the rest was good too."
You laughed before threatening to make it bleed again. Harwin was willing to take a million punches as long as his princess was there to kiss his wounds afterwards.
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cdragons · 3 days
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Bound by Embroidered Chains - Aemond Targaryen x Seamstress!OC x Jacaerys Velaryon - Chapter Two
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Previous Chapter
Summary: Dragons have a habit in hoarding the prettiest of jewels, and pearls are of no exceptions.
Warnings- MDNI 18+ Obsessive Behavior (we all knew this was coming), tiny!Jace is delulu, tiny!Aemond is kind of a jerk in this one, Dark Themes, shit is going down, not betaread we burn like Harrenhal, etc. Also, translations for Valyrian will be added at the bottom! Also, I used an online translator for the High Valyrian, so it may not be great 🫠
Author's Note: I'M BACKKKKKK! I am so sorry for leaving this story alone for so long! I have been getting into other fandoms and making new stories because of those fandoms. But the two new trailers for HOTD season 2 brought me back! I swear I will be better at updating this story! But on the bright side, I made this chapter over 5k word length! I own only the plot and OCs of this story, please do not repost without my permission.
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Despite living in the Red Keep for nearly your entire life, you still felt hopelessly lost as you walked down the corridors beside the prince. Like you and Aemond, the sight of you walking side by side with the heir of the Iron Throne’s firstborn son made for an unusual sight for the courtiers of the Royal Family. But this was not the case with the serving staff, which comprised smallfolk. Your mother was a favored companion by Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra. Despite coming from such humble beginnings, Doreah of Essos became a highly regarded member of the serving staff belonging to the House of Targaryen. All the maids respected your mother, while most stewards who served under knights idolized your father. And as your mother’s daughter, they were very used to the vision of one of their humble sewists’ children playing with the Royal children.
As a result, no one so much as batted an eye when they saw you walking down the halls directly beside Prince Jacaerys. It would have made a much more unusual sight if your presence was absent by either his or his uncle’s side. The older staff bowed their heads in respect to the prince while also flashing a small but kind smile at you. The younger serving girls were still too new in the ways of the court and beamed with broad smiles at the sight of you before acknowledging Jace. You grinned back as you inwardly beamed at the knowledge that Head Septa Marlow was with you.
She would have scolded those girls fiercely if she had caught them greeting an apprentice seamstress before the prince.
You turned your head to glance at your childhood friend, who happened to be second in line for the Iron Throne, as you both made your way to his mother’s chambers. Your eyebrows furrowed as you took in the troubled expression on his face. Just a few minutes ago, he was practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you left Aemond alone in the Godswood. But now it felt as if he was a thousand miles away from you despite being so close. Having been by his side since his birth, you always felt a sense of protectiveness toward the young prince. No matter his station, you were a month past your third name-day when he was brought into this world. It was natural that you were perspective to his shifting moods.
“Jace?” you softly called out to him. You were relieved to have brought him out of his thoughts. “Are you alright?”
Jacaerys stopped in the middle of the stone corridor. Staring at you with those large brown eyes, he looked much older than his actual age. When someone as happy and bright as Jace became somber, it was always a reason to worry. Was Rhaenyra all right? Had he been listening to those awful rumors of his true birth?
“Ashi’,” he began, “what were you and Aemond discussing in the Godswoods’ Heart Tree?”
Ah, so that’s what this is about.
You inwardly grimaced as you realized how foolish you were to worry. With Aemond and Jace, it was always something one did to the other. And almost every time, it was up to you to stop their squabbling by being forced into the middle. You were not as blind as everyone in the castle liked to believe you were. You knew that both boys had an unhealthy attachment to you for whatever reason they conjured in their minds. Reasons that were only encouraged by their mothers.
You were still cross when they interrupted you and your mother’s reunion with your father. The matter was really very stupid. Jace had made fun of Aemond for not having a dragon during their family supper with the King. However, Jace only did so because Aemond and Aegon were snickering to themselves about how fat Princess Rhaenyra had grown due to her third pregnancy.
It didn’t make any difference to you, in all honesty. All you remembered from that time was that your time with your beloved father was forcibly cut short. To make matters worse, the two boys’ outbursts startled your mother, and the stress was so terrible that it nearly caused her to faint.
As a result, you decided not to speak to either boy for nearly two weeks. It had grown to the point where Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra practically begged you to forgive their sons—but even a royal command would not budge you. It did not matter how many blueberry tarts or honey cakes they gave for your forgiveness. You made it very clear that you would resolve never to speak to either boy unless they sincerely apologized to your mother for the awful fright they gave her. You finally resumed your friendship with them after your mother asked you herself to forgive them after Aemond gifted her a lovely bouquet of blue and purple hyacinths, and Jace gifted her a basket full of her favorite honey lemon cakes.
“Jace,” you groaned, “you cannot be serious.”
“Ashi’, you’ve been spending so much time with him lately. I feel like I don’t ever get to see you anymore.”
Rolling your eyes, you walked away from him as you sped up your pace to reach their destination. You only made it a few meters from where you were earlier before Jacaerys caught up to you and firmly grasped your wrist to keep you in place.
“I’m serious, Ashi’!” he insisted. “Unless it’s for fittings or when the Maester seeks your help teaching us High Valyrian, I rarely ever see you anymore!” His eyes had a wet sheen in the light, and his lip quivered slightly. “I miss you. Luke misses you. And so does Mother and Father!”
If the pitiful sight was enough to fill you with guilt, his next question nearly broke your heart.
“Do you – do you still consider me your friend?”
“Oh, Jace-” you pulled your younger friend into your arms “- of course I do. I’ve been so busy with my duties and my mother’s health. She and Princess Rhaenys have been so concerned over Lady Laena’s pregnancy and are trying to convince Prince Daemon to travel to Driftmark for the baby’s arrival.”
Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, eager to feel your warmth. If the gods were kind, time would stop, and he and you would stay like this forever. But he became sad at the mention of his Aunt Laena. He had heard his father recount hundreds of stories of their time together at Driftmark in their youth. Jace knew his father missed his sister terribly, and he was sure she missed him the same.
You noticed your friend’s change in behavior. You looked at him with concerned eyes, and his heart began to race at your care for him.
“Oh, Jace,” you whispered, “have I upset you somehow? I did not mean to!”
Jace frantically shook his head. “No, Ashi’! I just wondered…do you think I’ll ever meet my Aunt Laena?” he softly asked. “Do you think she’ll like me? Can you tell me more about my cousins?”
You rolled your eyes at his request. He had yet to do so despite your advice for Jace to send a raven or two to his cousins. You hadn’t seen the twins for many years, but the three of you wrote to each other so often that it felt like you would recognize them by how they spoke alone.
“I’m sure she and your cousins will adore you, Jace. Baela is excited about her new sibling. She says she’s close to riding Moondancer! Once she gets big enough, she hopes to ride her with Rhaena!”
Jace wondered how you’d react if you knew he didn’t write to his cousins because he was scared they wouldn’t like him. To be honest, he didn’t really care about them at all. He only cared about the way you smiled at him, and only him, when he asked.
“Mother!”
Still seated at her dark-stained ebony-wood desk, Princess Rhaenyra of House Targaryen scribbled away with her black swan’s feather quill, nearly hidden behind stacks of dusty tomes and piles of scrolls from across the Seven Kingdoms and, despite being heavy with child, remained to be one of the most exquisite beauties across the realm. Hearing her eldest son’s voice, she looked up from her papers and smiled at the two children standing in her chambers' doorway.
“Jace! You made it and brought our little Lady Ashirri with you.”
You looked down at your feet as your cheeks slightly pinkened at the attention brought to you. Princess Rhaenyra was one of your mother’s closest friends and one of the few belonging to the noble houses that approved of your father’s rise in status. But his title was only in name, and so many in the keep look down on him with ill-hidden disdain. And as a result, many in the keep looked down on you with the same contempt and disgust.
The image of Lord Otto Hightower’s cold and judging eyes gazing down at you with arrogance came to mind before you could block it out.
You lifted your skirts and bowed in a deep curtsy in respect for Princess Rhaenyra. “Yes, my princess. Prince Jacaerys told me that you required my assistance with something?”
Princess Rhaenyra warmly smiled and laughed. “Yes. My husband seems at a crossroads in deciding which fabrics best suit his sister. Although, as you can see, he is being unnecessarily picky about it all.”
Her husband, Prince Consort Laenor of House Velaryon, stood beside your mother with his arms spread wide apart. On each arm were textiles of luxurious materials and superb stitching patterns. His close friend and confidant, Ser Qarl Correy, stood close behind him. The crown princess spoke truthfully as the entire room was filled with dozens of fabric bolts, from brilliant orange-marigold Dornish satin to iridescent light-azure Yi Tish silk. Your eyes were filled with excitement and wonder at the magnificent sight. You raced to touch the imported textiles.
“Is this silk truly from Yi Ti?” you softly whispered while carefully stroking the surface with one finger. “It looks almost too pretty to be real. This color would beautifully complement Lady Laena’s complexion and silver curls.”
Your mother and Prince Laenor smiled in agreement. It was softer than anything you’ve ever touched. Yi Tish silk was famous for its textile quality. One bolt was worth double your mother’s monthly wage at the Red Keep. The color alone was mastery at its finest. You knew from personal experience that blue was an incredibly tricky dye to handle. Although it was a primary color, it was rare in nature. You had to devote hours, if not days, to find the correct materials to yield the desired tone and shade properly. But that work is useless if the dye ends up damaging the fabric. Dark blue was one matter – it was still stunning, and many nobles would pay a hefty amount of coin for it. But to own such beauty, you wouldn’t dare imagine the price for a few yards, let alone an entire bolt.
“Fine eye as always, little lady,” Laenor jovially laughed. “Yes, I’m sure at least one of these fabrics will make a suitable dress for my sister before she gifts me another niece or nephew. I’m afraid your mother is very cross with me at the moment. Any delay in choosing the fabric will result in her being unable to finish the dress before the baby is born.”
“Lady Laena will need it to be loose and not so tight around her waist,” you spoke matter-of-factly. “Muña says that most pregnant women have rashes and inflammations after giving birth, so the dress must be made of a fabric that won’t cause irritation. Let’s see…excuse me for a moment?”
 You took out the small leather-bound journal Kepa gave you as a gift from one of his many voyages with Lord Corlys that you kept in your dress pocket, along with a small stick of charcoal. You drew out the image as quickly as possible whenever inspiration struck, regardless of the time or place. It was a habit that could lead to horrible misunderstandings, but being scolded and berated mattered little to you if it meant you could train yourself to be half as talented a seamstress as your mother.
After flipping past all your previous ideas, you finally spotted a blank page. Racing to your mother’s side for help, you excitedly shoved the journal in her face.
You thought aloud and drew out the concept simultaneously. “I think it should be blue. Even if Lady Laena married Prince Daemon, she is still a Velaryon by birth! Maybe if we chose a material that looks like water, it would make her feel closer to Driftmark and Lady Rhaenys!”
Doreah beamed from ear to ear as she crouched down and took you in a tight embrace. It filled her with such joy to know her daughter had developed such a tender and compassionate heart. You were a deeply empathetic girl who always considered the needs of others before your own. Her little pearl had a heart of gold that shone through the darkest storms. She planted a loud kiss on your cheek before letting you go.
“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my little pearl,” her eyes twinkled as she cupped your cheeks. “I have just the fabric in mind for it.”
Lady Doreah Pyke pulled out a large bolt of shimmering azure blue silk velvet. The rippled pattern and texture matched the transcendent and melancholy shores that surrounded High Tide. You gasped in delight at the sight of it. It was exactly the color you imagined! You gently caressed the hand-pleated panels, expecting it to feel crinkly and cheap despite its luster. But the fabric sheen and its soft, velvety texture made you want to wrap yourself with it like a warm blanket.
Your mother thoughtfully inspected the fabric. “Yes, this will be perfect. However, I think instead of a dress, it may be better to be used as a cloak. If the result is as beautiful as my little pearl envisions it to be, it would be a shame to be a dress for one lady. If it is a cloak, it can be passed down from mother to daughter.”
“An heirloom cloak…” you murmured in excitement. Your mother was a genius. “It sounds so romantic…the waves should be hand-painted and glass beads strung and stitched into the fabric. Oh, Lady Laena will look like a sea goddess! Would she like it enough to pass it down to Ladies Baela or Rhaena?”
Doreah chuckled at your delight and booped your nose. “She will love it, my darling – especially because you will be helping me make it.”
“A wonderful idea!” exclaimed Laenor. “Who better than our lovely Doreah and her little pearl to complete the task?”
“Really?” you gasped. To work beside your mother on such a prestigious project…was like a dream too good to be true. “Mother, do you…do you truly think I am ready?”
Jace jumped to his friend’s side to hug her. “Ashirri! This is wonderful! You and Lady Pyke will make the most beautiful cloak in the Seven Kingdoms - I know it!”
Rhaenyra and Laenor glanced knowingly at their son’s support for his dearest childhood companion. Everyone in the Red Keep knew of Jacaerys Velaryon's infatuation with Ashirri Pyke. If only the gods had allowed their stations to be so different. It seemed cruel to let two young souls meet and grow beside one another without the hope or possibility of love being borne.
You beamed at Jace with a brilliant smile that shone with so much radiance that looking at you felt nothing less than sin. You took his hand in yours as you squeezed his hand in silent thanks and appreciation for his words. In the young prince’s eyes, you were more heavenly than the Maiden herself. He hopes to be seen as strong as the Warrior in yours one day.
“Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros,” you said in your mother’s native tongue, softly stroking your thumb on his skin as a rosy hue bloomed on Jace’s cheeks. “Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī!”
You were about to leave before stopping and tracing back your steps to bow to Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Consort Laenor quickly. Your cheeks were bright red from embarrassment from forgetting such basic etiquette.
“My princess, my prince, forgive me for not remembering to thank you for granting me this opportunity and forgetting to leave before you dismissed me. I was too caught up in my excitement. But, I swear that I will not let you down.”
The adults in the room shared amused expressions at your excitement. Ashirri Pyke’s transparent honesty and sweet nature were so refreshing to not only the Targaryen Princess and her prince consort husband but also the entire Royal Family. She was the perfect combination of her parents’ personalities. From Hotho, you adopted your father’s unwavering honesty and sense of justice. From Doreah, you were your mother’s copy in sweetness and purity. You were a highborn noble in all but birth and title.
Rhaenyra waved off your apology and nodded. “No need for apologies, little pearl. Run along. There is work that needs to be done, and your mother and I still have things to discuss between old friends.”
You pouted to hear that your mother would not be joining you. After all, this was a very important job, and you had hoped this would provide an opportunity to learn more of your mother’s secrets in her trade. But who were you to refuse a princess’ orders? You bowed once more before waving goodbye to Jace and everyone in the room before racing to your chambers. The disappointment you felt moments before was washed away by the jittering and buzz of your creativity rushing through your mind.
The waves would have to be hand-painted – that goes without saying. But should you paint silver instead of ivory for the sea foam? And did you have a steady enough hand to replicate each pattern perfectly? You were going to need a template to trace it.
You were going to need dozens if not hundreds, of beads ranging from violet to turquoise to teal. Were there any artisans in Kings Landing that could make such a large quantity? Were there any skilled enough to ensure the glass and crystals would yield such clarity and durability? You may need to ask Kepa if he made any glassmaker friends from Essos or the Free Cities.
Could you dip into your personal collection of sea crystals and pearls? Mother would be cross with you, but it would look so splendid against the fabric!
While racing down the many halls and past the flurry of chambermaids and squires, you came across Aemond. His trademark frown on his freckled face quickly turned to a kind smile.
“Ashirri! Mother wants to–”
But you did not have time to stop and quickly ran past him. You interrupted him with an apology.
“Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie import! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon!”
Aemond owlishly blinked before realizing you had spoken to him in High Valyrian. He took a few moments to mentally translate what you said before calling out your name and asking you to explain.
“Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?”
But when he turned, you were nowhere in sight, and he was left alone in the middle of the stone corridor. His shoulders slumped in deep disappointment at seeing you running away from him. But he supposed that such a slight could be forgiven since you were his loveliest and dearest friend. On the plus side, he was gifted with the sight of how the sunshine rays peering through the windows darted your glossy locks and wrapped you in a warm halo that brought out even more of your natural charm and prettiness.
As soon as you reached your room, you shut the door and grabbed every colored charcoal stick you’ve been gifted since you began learning your letters. Grabbing your big sketchbook, you immediately began jotting down your vision. By the time your mother joined you, your entire floor was covered with pages filled with a kaleidoscope of blues, greens, violets, and silver. Doreah was ecstatic of the display of your budding talent and took you in her arms for a tight hug.
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The next few weeks were the most thrilling of your young life. You would spend hours on end with your mother, going over and debating which colors would match the tone of the cloak. Your mother found out about your idea to incorporate your pearls in the stitching, and she gave you a lecture that put all her past scoldings to shame. Eventually, you relented. In truth, you were a tad reluctant to part with your pearls. Each pearl was a gift from your beloved kepa for each country he visited. He said it was his way of giving you a tiny part of the world to his little pearl.
Because you were so busy trimming and stitching, you barely had time to read with Aemond under the Heart Tree in the Godswood or watch Jace practice his sword fighting with Ser Harwin Strong. You and your mother could only be removed from the cloak when either Queen Alicent or Princess Rhaenyra ordered your presence. They often expressed their woes at your decreased presence in court. As a result, your mother would take small breaks to share tea with Queen Alicent to discuss your progress as a seamstress, or she would get called by Princess Rhaenyra to her chambers so that they may speak their most private thoughts and troubles in High Valyrian.
You would often escape their orders by spending time with Princess Helaena. She would sneak into your workspace to bring her own embroidery and ask for your guidance with the more intricate patterns. While most of the court found the second princess a bit…odd – you took to her presence like green to pink. The two of you greatly differed in personality, but that made your friendship with her all the more special. You always made sure to treat her with kind words and common courtesy.
The most rude you had been to her was when she showed you a massive spider in her hands, and you loudly shrieked before crawling under your bed as a reflex. It took a few minutes before you could rejoin her. When she asked if you liked to hold Gerald the Spider, you took your father’s thickest riding gloves before you went near the beast.
You only held Gerald in your palms a few moments before you cried and begged Helaena to remove him from your person. But despite the terrors you got from Gerald the Spider that night, it was worth it if Helaena could smile as happily as she had when you agreed. She was so pleased that she didn’t correct you when you called her by the nickname you made for her, ‘Hel.’ In fact, you were almost certain that the nickname made her happier than you holding the spider.
But despite the peace these past few weeks have brought you and your family, such joy was not granted to the rest of your friends. Trouble was brewing in the Red Keep for House Targaryen – a fact you were unaware of until much later. You were returning from the rookery after being notified of receiving a letter from Baela. She was so excited about the arrival of her new sibling. You were reading the letter until you heard soft cries in the library. Searching for the source, you were shocked to find Aemond crying in a secluded section of the Royal Library. Distressed at your friend’s tears, you immediately knelt and hugged him close to you.
Clinging to your arms like you were his anchor, you could only make out the words: ‘pig’ and ‘dread.’ When you voiced your confusion, Aemond explained once more.
“They gave me a pig!” he barked, wiping away the angry tears from his violet eyes. “They said they found a dragon for me, and it was a pig! The ‘Pink Dread’ they called it!”
You lowered his head to the crook of your shoulder. “Aemond, who’s ‘they’?” you softly asked.
“Aegon! Who else?” he exclaimed. Your simple linen frock muffled his yells. “My sister’s bastards were there, too!”
Your blood chilled. He couldn’t mean…Jace wasn’t…
“Aemond, you can’t say such things,” you warned. “It’s considered treason by your father’s laws.”
But Aemond wasn’t listening. “I hate those bastards. They shouldn’t carry the Targaryen name. Their last name should be ‘Waters.’ It’s the name that bastards born in the Crownlands carry. Northern bastards are called ‘Snow,’ ‘Sand’ for Dorne, ‘Flowers’ for the Reach–”
“‘Pyke’ for the Iron Islands,” you snapped and let him go. “Am I a bastard, Aemond? Am I what you hate? Do you hate my father?”
Aemond was shocked at your venomous tone. When he realized what he had done, he quickly tried to make amends.
He shook his head. “My pearl…no, no, no,” he said. “You aren’t a bastard. I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about–”
You clenched your fists and stood on your feet. “I know who you were talking about! That does not make it right!”
Aemond was getting angry. Why weren’t you taking his side? Had his whore of a sister already poisoned you against him? Had Jace already dirtied you with his filthy, bastard blood? He stood up and stared you down with fury in those beautiful violet eyes that you once so adored. But all you saw was his grandfather.
“Your father is a bastard,” he stated matter-of-factly. “He was a bastard from the Iron Islands that Lord Greyjoy didn’t want! He wasn’t worthy of his noble father’s house name, so he is named ‘Pyke’!”
You shook your head. “There is more to family than names and blood. I am neither a Targaryen nor a Velaryon. I do not carry a speck of your noble house’s blood, but I consider you and Jace my dearest friends! To me, you are my brothers! You and him are my family because I love you, not because of blood! Does that count for anything?”
“I never thought of you as a sister,” he spat out. “Not once did I consider you family.”
Devastation overwhelms your broken heart as tears flood your and Aemond’s eyes. He reaches out to hold your hand, but you step back. Once more, he tries to keep you closer to him, but you turn around and run to the door. When you reach it, he calls out your name and begs you to let him explain. Once more, you turn to face him to see he has not moved an inch. You feel so small and insignificant underneath the massive stone framework, but you summoned the sea of hurt and rage crashing inside your heart.
“I used to wonder how a horrible and mean-spirited man like Otto Hightower could be the grandsire of such a sweet boy,” your voice trembled, but you continued to steel yourself. “I thought…you were smart enough not to listen to such horrible things. I thought you were my friend. But I was wrong. I was so horribly wrong. What your brother, Jace, and Luke had done to you was cruel and unfair. But Aemond…what you had become…I-I don’t even recognize you anymore.”
With that being the final word, you raced to your mother’s chambers. You cried into her skirts and told her what happened – of the Pink Dread, Aemond’s cruel transformation, and the ruin of your friendship with him. You sobbed out your wish to leave the Red Keep and never return.
Doreah Pyke immediately thought of what Princess Rhaenyra had informed her in the afternoon. ‘Nyra told her that she would be moving her family to Dragonstone. Each day since her failed attempt to match Jace with Helaena, the Red Keep feels less safe and more hostile to her and her children. Since Harwin assaulted Ser Cole, tensions between the princess and the queen have reached an all-time high.
“Come with me,” her princess begged Doreah. “Come with my family to Dragonstone.”
“Oh, ‘Nyra,” whispered Doreah, “I don’t know. Dragonstone is so far from King’s Landing. And Ali would never–”
“Alicent is becoming more like her father each day,” Rhaenyra interjected. “She wants to put her son on my father’s throne – both she and her father are conspiring against me.”
Rhaenyra clasped Doreah’s hands in her own. “I know you want to believe she is the same girl from our youth. But Otto Hightower has sunk his poisoned claws in her and will stop at nothing to crown Aegon when my father passes. I need people I can trust by my side. People like you, my sweet Dory, and your husband.”
“…But Ashirri, my pearl,” sighed Doreah. “She will be so devastated. She grew up running in these halls, playing in the Godswoods, exploring this castle’s corners and shadows. This is her home.”
“Your daughter will flourish wherever she goes,” insists Rhaenyra. “She will never be alone – not with Jace, Luke, and Joffery by her side. And forgive me for what I am about to say, my friend, but…King’s Landing no longer agrees with you as it used to.”
Doreah sighed and gazed out the window with slumped shoulders. What her princess said was true but hard to hear. As she grew older, she found the air and noise outside the Red Keep more sour and rancid. It made her miss the clean and fresh sea breeze in Essos. Rhaenyra was not the only one who had noticed Doreah’s melancholy. Hotho, her beloved Iron Knight, has remained in King’s Landing after learning of her despondence. Her husband implores her to care more for her health – if not for herself, but their daughter.
Doreah waved off their concerns, but perhaps…they had a point. Stroking your hair to calm you down, your mother asked if you would be open to the possibility of moving to Dragonstone. She reassured you that she and your father would be there with you and that you would still be around Jace, Luke, and Joffery if you ever felt lonely.
You agreed before she finished and immediately started packing. By the end of the month, you had not spoken another word to Aemond and left with Princess Rhaenyra and her family to Dragonstone. You did not look back. You wanted to leave King’s Landing and Aemond as soon as possible. You wanted to leave this wretched castle and have peace once more.
While others stared at the obsidian castle with trepidation, you felt hope. Unpacking your things from your trunk and knapsack, you were determined to leave behind all the political headaches and focus solely on stitching with your mother and sailing with your father.
If only life could be that simple.
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Translations:
Muña - mother
Kepa - father
Kirimvose, jorrāelagon raqiros…Muña, īlon līs jiōragon naejot mirre rȳ istin! Nyke jāhor sagon going ēlī – “Thank you, dear friend…Mother, we must get to work at once! I will bet going first!”
Usōven, Aemond! Yn issa muña se Dārilaros Laenor teptan mirros hen rōvēgrie importance! Nyke emagon naejot jiōragon naejot mirre paktot qrīdrughagon! – “I am sorry, Aemond. But my mother and Prince Laenor gave me something of great importance! I have to get to work right away!”
Umbagon! Skoros gaomagon ao nūmāzma?” – “Wait! What do you mean?”
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Tagging: @ethereal-athalia, @valeskafics, @faesspace, @aphroditesmoon, @dreaming-for-an-escape, @nellychick, @asa-do-your-thing, @arcielee, @bellamys-girl1, @immyowndefender, @xxlovingfandomsxx, @elinedjarin, @meg-egg-blog, @marvelescape, @mandiiblanche, @lokiofasgard12, @boxedpandas, @anewpersonthatexists, @toodlesxcuddles, @mckiquinn, @cvspians, @aemondslove, @bogbutteronmycroissant, @lady-ashfade , @axelsagewrites
Let me know in the comments if you want to be added to the taglist! Please like, comment, and/or reblog this story if you enjoyed reading it, and please share the link with anyone you think might enjoy it!
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witchofhimring · 2 days
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Loyalty Y/n 🎇aesthetic🎇
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jacelion · 3 hours
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Y/N, a dragon keeper, is cleaning Syrax. Syrax leans her head down to playfully nudge you.
Rhaenyra: Syrax seems to like you.
Y/N: Yeah, she's as friendly as her rider.
Rhaenyra climbs into the seat on Syrax's back.
Rhaenyra: Would you like to fly with us, beloved?
Y/N: Sure.
You climb up to the seat and wrap your arms around Rhaenyra's waist.
Rhaenyra: Hold on.
Taglist: @fandomnerd9602 @thebisexualdogdad @6rookie-writer0110 @oxydedoesstuff @multi-fandom-enjoyer @kingofthelizardpeople @kneeeeellllll @lnlnbb @the-protector-97 @ma1egamer @ab1nsur @sweeteagletidalwave @crimsonkokopelli @ornii @cole-el @xenoncitadel @kaimeioneclipse @redsxcks @kseung @skylarinfinity @captain-lessship @jacobblack3751009 @anon-stuff-yk @th3g0dofdarkn3ss @archie-is-an-addict @jadenyukiyusakufujikiyutoduelist @thatonesexymotherfucka
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valeskafics · 4 months
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"No One But Me" - Daemon Targaryen x Niece!Reader
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a/n: combined a few requests into one - enjoy!! 💕
Summary: Daemon lusts after you, Viserys and Alicent's eldest daughter who is set to become a septa.
TW: DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, canon-typical incest, corruption kink, innocence kink, religion kink, dacryphilia, thigh riding, fingering, oral f receiving, overstim, p in v sex, loss of virginity, breeding kink
Word Count: 2,515 words
Rating: 18+, MDNI
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷
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Daemon Targaryen never thought much of you, the eldest daughter of his brother and Alicent Hightower. You were a plain, mousy little thing the last time he saw you, at Rhaenyra’s wedding before he eloped with Lady Laena. You were sweet enough, curtsying and greeting him politely when you met him, thanking him for fighting so valiantly in the Stepstones. But that was the extent of your interaction.
After his second wife’s passing, he comes to Driftmark to lay her to rest. And that is when he sees you again. You are a woman now, he realizes as he watches you rest a hand on Helaena and Aemond’s shoulders, Aegon already off in his cups. There is something so sweet about you, your gentle disposition as you bend down to fix Aemond’s tunic, tapping the tip of his nose with your finger. The boy, who has been dour the entire length of the funeral, comes alive with a bright smile at your attention, something Daemon finds quite interesting. You’re beautiful, the curves of your body evident despite the somewhat conservative dress you wear, no doubt hand-picked by your mother.
You approach him, a kind, sweet smile on your face as you offer your condolences, “I am so very sorry for your loss, kepus. I did not know Lady Laena well, but she will be dearly missed by many.” (Uncle)
Daemon simply nods and you step aside, taking Aemond and Helaena with you. He muses to himself that you seem more like their mother than Alicent does, too busy tending to his brother. It stirs something inside him as he watches you, those lilac eyes never once leaving your form. You have piqued the interest of the Rogue Prince, and he has every intention of claiming his sweet little niece as his prize. He stares after you as you retreat into the castle, your siblings trailing after you, like little ducklings in a line. And, as if you could be any more perfect, he watches you interact with his daughters. The kindness you show them, the affection you shower them with in the wake of their devastating loss.
The gears in Daemon’s head begin to turn and he realizes that you are the perfect woman for him. And that he is going to do anything to make you his. There is only one small problem. That is, when your mother announces your intention to become a septa at dinner. You beam with pride as your father, in a rare moment of care for you, leans over and presses a kiss to your forehead. Aegon says something to you that causes you to slap him hard on the shoulder, that tiny spark you’ve shown lighting a flame inside Daemon. He saw the way your eyes danced with mischief. No, you cannot waste your days away as a septa, locked away from the world, your beauty never to be admired. He is most certainly going to have to do something about that tonight.
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He finds you that evening, walking toward the humble Driftmark sept, no doubt going for your evening prayers. He heard your mother declaring to Rhaenyra with no little amount of pride that you have never missed a prayer. He steps out of the shadows, taking you by surprise, your hand flying to your chest as if to calm your heart. It’s adorable, really. You’re like a little rabbit, and he is a wolf going in for the kill.
“Uncle,” you greet in a soft voice, bowing your head in greeting before nervously fiddling with your fingers, “If you will excuse me, I am on my way to evening prayers.”
“Too busy to chat with kepa?” Daemon asks as he falls into step beside you, eyes roaming your frame, his thoughts growing more and more lustful with every passing moment, “I am sure that you aren’t too busy for a walk.”
“Perhaps another time, Uncle,” you say, gazing up at him with those doe eyes of yours, so innocent and unassuming, “I know you have never been religious, but my faith is something I hold quite dear.”
Daemon hums in acknowledgement, still walking beside you, glancing down at the subtle bounce of your breasts with each step you take, his mouth nearly watering at the thought of how you look under the fabric of it, the way your hair dances in the wind, “How old are you now, sweetling?”
“Nine and ten,” you inform him as you enter the sept, lighting a candle.
“Nine and ten,” Daemon repeats, “You are a woman grown. It is a shame that you’ve chosen to throw your life away and rot in a sept somewhere. You are very beautiful, you know.”
He watches with bated breath as you bite your lip nervously, “I… Um…”
“What does the faith even have to offer you?” Daemon continues, trailing after you as you kneel down before the altar of the Maiden, “A life of modesty and praying?” He leans in, his lips ghosting over your ear as he whispers, “A life of never knowing the touch of a man?”
He sees the way you shiver, the way you gaze up at him with wide eyes as you ask him if he wishes to pray with you. He kneels beside you, gazing into those sweet, innocent eyes, so ripe for corruption, those soft, full lips, your hair framing your face. He wonders if anyone would even hear if he claimed you, here and now, in the eyes of the Seven. You bow your head and close your eyes, beginning to pray. Daemon bows his head for show, but simply continues staring at you, eyeing the swell of your breasts as your chest rises and falls with each breath. Your collarbones, your neck, your mouth. The urge to claim you grows with every breath you take. You’re so innocent, naive to the desires of men. He can teach you. He will teach you what it is to be pleasured by a man.
Your eyes flutter open after a moment and you give Daemon a polite smile, “Thank you for praying with me, Uncle.”
“You’re such a sweet little thing,” Daemon murmurs, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek, thinking to himself how much he can teach you, “Might I ask you a question, little one?”
You nod slowly, “Of course.”
“How would you feel if a man kissed you?” Daemon’s nose brushes against yours, close enough to press his lips against yours if he so desires, “Would you hate it? Would you be disgusted? Or, perhaps, you would find yourself not hating it, rather enjoying it.” He watches as your eyes widen, “You know, it isn’t just your body that is beautiful, those lips are almost irresistible.”
You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, turning your face away as you mumble, “I must go find my brother. Please excuse me, Uncle-”
He gently grabs your wrist, pulling you back to him, your chest flush against his as you gaze up at him, “No need to run away, little one. You know, your skin is so soft and smooth,” he says, caressing your cheek with his free hand, “Just like the rest of you, I imagine.”
You let out a soft gasp as Daemon presses his lips against yours, kissing you passionately. He feels you stiffen and then relax into his grip. His kiss is rough, aggressive, hungry even, his tongue pushing inside your mouth, exploring it, moving against your own. After a few more moments, you pull away, eyes darting around.
“I am a maiden, Uncle, I… I cannot do this…”
Daemon gathers you in his arms, his hand moving up and down your back in a motion you could almost consider soothing, “I don’t believe that, sweetling. I can see it in your eyes that you want this.” His gaze travels to your lips, slightly parted and swollen from the kiss.
“We can’t…”
He cages you in against the wall with his body, pressing up against you, “Oh, I believe we can, little princess.”
You whimper as Daemon’s lips along your neck, his hands moving to squeeze at your breasts, kneading the soft, supple flesh between his hands. He has fire in his eyes as he all but tears your dress from your frame, admiring how you look in just your smallclothes, the flimsy shift that does little to hide your curves from his lascivious gaze. You try to cover yourself, averting your gaze, and the innocence of your actions drives him nearly to the brink of madness.
He sits on one of the pews, pulling you onto his lap so that you straddle him, your weak protest coming, “Uncle, we could be seen-”
“Let them see,” he rasps.
His hands are all over you, squeezing your ass, moving up your body to your breasts again, his sweet little princess, there for him to fuck, to defile, to corrupt. You whine softly, grinding yourself against his hips, burying your face in the crook of his neck as he continues feeling your body.
“It feels strange in my stomach… Between my thighs…”
He chuckles, meeting your gaze, moving one hand to your hair, tugging it, “You aren’t as innocent as I thought, little one. I think you’re just a little tease. Look at you, rubbing yourself against my thigh like a wanton little whore. Come now, little one, make yourself peak. I know you can.”
His hands are all over you, calloused and warm, touching you places only a husband is meant to touch. You feel your pleasure building like a tidal wave as you continue moving your hips against him, rubbing your bare cunt against his thigh, feeling his muscles flex under you, how he bounces his leg ever so slightly to spur you on. His hands move to your hips, moving you faster and faster, listening to the sound of your breathing, coming out in soft, desperate pants as you reach your peak, eyes rolling back, body collapsing against his.
“What if someone walks in?”
Your voice is a hushed whisper as Daemon places you on the altar to the Maiden, tearing your shift in half, his eyes now nearly black with lust as he takes in the sight of your bare body. He pushes your knees apart, letting out a quiet laugh, admiring the sight of your bare cunny, already wet for him.
“That’s part of the excitement, little one. I’m sure any man would die to be with you, but you’re all mine, little princess. You were a maiden when you walked in here, but let’s see what you will be when you walk out.”
“This is blasphemous,” you say as he sinks to his knees, gazing up at you.
Daemon presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh before burying his tongue inside your cunt, reveling in the whine of pleasure you let out, your hands gripping the altar so hard that your knuckles begin to go white. He laps at your folds, fucking you with his tongue, hiking your thighs over his shoulder as he tastes you, the lewd slurping and sucking noises he makes echoing throughout the sept. You whimper pathetically as he brings you closer and closer to your peak, his thumb rubbing against your pearl, your toes curling as you feel the pressure build in your stomach. He senses your climax is close and moves faster, his face moving from side to side as he devours you, his nose pressed against your nub, your arousal coating his tongue when you reach your peak once more with a cry of his name.
He moves to stand, cupping your mound, biting back a laugh at the way you try to shrink away from him, “It’s too much, Uncle…”
Daemon ignores your words, leaning in to kiss you, his free hand pinning your own above your head. He pushes one finger inside you, feeling the way you squeeze around his fingers, pumping it in and out ever so slowly, your entire body trembling as he continues his onslaught of pleasure. You gaze up at him, eyes watering from the overstimulation as he continues, his arousal only growing when fat tears begin to roll down your cheeks. Gods, you look beautiful when you cry. He adds a second finger, listening to you moan, your head falling back against the altar as you reach your peak yet again. But he has no intention of having mercy on you, wanting you to be nothing but a whimpering, sobbing mess beneath him as he adds a third finger, his thumb circling your swollen pearl. His fingertips brush against that rough patch deep inside you that has your eyes going wide, lips parted in a silent scream as you manage to murmur his name. He moves his fingers, curving them so he can hit that spot with each movement, bringing you to your peak once more, feeling you soak his fingers.
Your entire body shakes and Daemon pushes his fingers between your lips, arching his brow in a silent demand for you to lick his fingers clean. He watches as your plump lips wrap around the digits, thinking to himself how lovely they’ll look wrapped around his cock, your eyes watering as you choke on it while he fucks your mouth, but he’ll save that for another time. He needs to be inside you right now. He needs to breed you, to make you completely and utterly his. For everyone to see your stomach, swollen with his babe, knowing that he fucked his seed into you.
Daemon quickly undoes his breeches just enough to free his cock, already achingly hard, giving himself a quick stroke before slapping the head of it against your cunt. You let out a surprised cry, your breasts bouncing as you jump slightly. He pushes inside of you, his thick length feeling as if it’s splitting you open in the most delicious way. He sheathes himself to the hilt inside of you, bottoming out inside you with a low moan. Daemon moves like some sort of feral beast, feeling your warmth enveloping him, squeezing him so tight, so wet for him. He ruts against you, pounding into you at an animalistic pace as you gaze up at him wide-eyed. It doesn’t take much for your poor, oversensitized body to reach your peak again, but he fucks you through it, chuckling as you pray to the Maiden for forgiveness.
“Little princess, we both know it’s me who you worship now. My cock.”
You don’t bother denying it, only wrapping your legs around him, allowing him to fuck into you harder, deeper, his hips stuttering as he reaches his peak, making sure to spill his seed inside you, plugging you up with his fingers so not a drop spills.
“After you have recovered, we will go to Dragonstone, where I will make you my wife, little princess. You belong to me now, not your mother, not the gods, no one but me.”
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multific · 3 months
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Of Lit Fire and Silk Sheets
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Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary: Aemond arrives back to his room late at night, when you are already long asleep.
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When Aemond came into your shared bedroom it was already very late.
His duties as Prince kept him up almost all day, barely allowing him to take a break or even eat.
Aemond let out a long sigh as he took off his jacket.
The fireplace in his room was lit, illuminating the room.
On his bed, you slept.
You, his beautiful wife.
Aemond stopped by the end of the bed and looked at you. He has seen you sleeping plenty of times, but he was always right next to you, or he was too tired and went to sleep immediately as he got back. 
But now, even if he was tired, he still took a moment to just stop and look at you.
You looked breathtaking, the warm light from the fire illuminated your face and shoulder as you slept on your side, facing his empty side. Your arm reaching towards his side, trying to find him but failing.
Aemond allowed a small smile to form.
Oh, how you both hated the idea of being married, and yet here you both were, completely and undeniably in love. 
Aemond could still recall the moment your eyes turned from hatred to the soft look that you now have for him.
He could also recall the moment he realized he was in love with you when a Lord dared to speak ill of you and as a result, lost his head.
Aemond takes no chances when it comes to you, his wife.
He believes it is his duty to fully protect you from anything. Let that be his own family, a few lords with choice words or even himself.
Aemond takes no chances, much like a predator, he prefers to act first and think next.
He didn't use to be like that.
He was always very calculated, just not when it came to you.
Love, as they say, is a stronger force than anything, greater than fear or even dragons.
You stirred slightly in your sleep and Aemond moved. Removing his clothes and putting on the comfortable pants and shirt he preferred to sleep in, he quickly moved back to you and laid down.
His muscles relaxed against the silk sheets and comfortable pillows.
He wanted to pull you closer, but he was afraid to wake you.
Aemond just laid there, watching you sleep as he contemplated his next move. He knew he would not be able to sleep fully without having you in his arms or have you closer.
But he didn't have to, you instinctively still asleep, moved closer to him, placing your hand on his chest as you continued to sleep. 
Aemond let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes. He felt you moving beside him as you soon placed your head on his chest, got comfortable under the covers and fell right back to sleep.
His hand moved to find yours on his chest as he fell asleep.
Not even the howling wind outside would hurt you, he will make sure of it.
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Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse  @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @brascaris
~Masterlist~
ˇAO3ˇ
/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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princessbellecerise · 9 months
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Pregnancy Headcanons
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──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | How the House of the Dragon characters would react before, during and after your pregnancy
warnings | Mentions of pregnancy and childbirth
this is a work of fiction. i do not own these characters
divider by @princessbellecerise
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Jacaerys Velaryon
Finding Out
Jacaerys has the audacity to look shocked when the Maester tells him that you’re pregnant, like the two of you haven’t been fucking like rabbits ever since you got married
No seriously—he literally freezes and just kind of…stares with an unreadable expression on his face
Just sort of wide-eyed, in shock before he finally snaps out of it and briskly walks away without another word
He’s not really sure what to do, or how to react to be honest. And it might take a few days for him to come around, but he will eventually
Bonus: Rhaenyra sees his reaction and she’s like Jacaerys, what did you expect?
And he’s like: Not this
And then she’s like: Well did you pull out? Ask for moon tea? Something??
And Jace is just like staring at her like: No? Why would I do that?
Like boy what did you expect when you literally nut inside your wife every single time
During Pregnancy
Once he does come around though, Jacaerys will be so protective. I’m talking like he barely let you out of his sight, and makes sure that everyone knows you’re pregnant
Like they can’t already tell, he’ll constantly tell people that you’re carrying his heir and that they need to be careful with you
Even the Maesters who literally know what they’re doing get a scolding by the future king if he thinks they’re being too rough
No one is allowed to get too close to you and if they do, Jace will always have one hand on his sword just in case he needs to defend you
He will even better himself at sword fighting, pushing himself to the limits during the hours that he’s not with you so that he can always be prepared
For Jacaerys, you being pregnant is sort of like a wake-up call for him, a chance for him to finally rise to his responsibilities and become a bit more serious
He understands the weight of being king now and for Jace, he’ll want to put away all childish things so that he could become the man you and your child need
Giving Birth
Oh my god he’s so supportive
I’m talking like this is a man that will get behind you and physically hold you while you push
Despite what anyone says, he will be there for the birth of his child and he will be so soothing
Holding you, kissing you, kissing your neck to calm you down, taking the cloth from the Maester and wiping the sweat off of your forehead
Jacaerys’ support of you never ends and he’s constantly telling you how proud of you he is even while you’re screaming your lungs out
He’ll help you breathe and let you squeeze his hand till you break it if that’s what you so desire
Calling you his brave girl and letting out teary laughter when your baby is finally delivered
After Birth
When your child is born, it’s like fatherhood is something Jacaerys is born for
He’s a natural; knowing exactly what to say and how to raise your children even if you are still figuring it out
Seriously, it’s like he has a cheat code or something
If the two of you have a boy, then Jace won’t hesitate to start grooming him to be king and unlike most father’s, he is very involved in his son’s upbringing
Jacaerys will be the one to teach him how to hold a sword, how to ride a horse and a dragon. Jace will be there for his son every step of the way no matter how improper it may seem
Likewise, if he has a daughter, he will be entirely overprotective
If you thought it was bad when she was in the womb, just wait until Jace takes one look at his baby girl
Suddenly, he’s terrified to let her out of his sight; sometimes even holding her on his knee during council meetings. She likes to play with the marble and Jace tries so hard to keep a straight face while also wrestling it out of her hands
Everyone at the meeting will try and pretend like they don’t hear her babbling and like it’s not the cutest thing ever while they’re talking about literal war
Overall, Jace would be prepared to defend you and your children to the death if need be, and he would be such a stern but loving dad
Lucerys Velaryon
Finding Out
Luke doesn’t even notice that you haven’t gotten your moon blood for several months and neither do you, until one day a servant happens to say something and you’re both like: oh shit
Since you both are still quite young you’re not really supposed to be having heirs at the moment. Like Rhaenyra specifically told this boy to not get you pregnant just yet and now he’s terrified of telling her
So yeah, it was an accident and Luke is so nervous he’s literally shaking when the Maester confirms it
But sweet boy, he will do his very best to remain calm and will put on a brave face for you
He’ll act like he’s not scared as well at the prospect of having children so young but on the inside he’s freaking out. He’ll hold your hand tightly and give you kisses to calm you down, keeping his voice from shaking to seem brave
During Pregnancy
Even though it’s a little too soon for the both of you to become parents, Luke will slowly become excited at the prospect of becoming a father
Like he’s so proud, growing to love his child before you’re even four months along
He decides right then and there that he’ll do anything to protect you and his child and swears that no harm will ever come to either of you
While you’re pregnant, Luke will take on every single responsibility so that you won’t be stressed out. He always has you relaxing and content while he deals with all of the hard stuff
And yeah, over the course of the months he will find himself growing up a little
Maybe a little bit too fast, much his mother’s sadness, but Rhaenyra can’t help but love the look of pride of Luke’s face every time he touches your belly. And neither can you
You love when Luke rubs your son or daughter and you especially love when he blows raspberries on your stomach, giggling every time while he coos to the baby or talks to them in High Valerian
It’s a such a sweet moment to witness and many people, sometimes even Daemon, catch themselves smiling or smirking at you and the young prince
Giving Birth
Okay, so Lucerys is now back to being scared shitless
It all started on the day you delivered your child, with Luke sweating and pacing outside of your room while the Maesters attended to you
Your screams severely upset him and he kept pacing back and forth in the hallway, peeking in the room and desperately trying to get a glimpse of you before the Maesters pushed him out
He wants to be there for you so bad, especially since it’s your first pregnancy and you’re crying your eyes out for him
Eventually, he’ll just have to say damn it and force his way in, gathering his courage for his wife. And even though the Maesters tell him that it’s highly improper, he’ll ignore them and will hold your hand the entire way
Whispering sweet praises in your ear and stroking your back while Rhaenyra or your own mother loudly encourages you
He’ll be so worried up until the moment he hears that first cry, and that’s when everything just melts away for Luke and all he can feel is happiness when the Maester hands you your child
After Birth
After your child is born, you and Luke are the absolute best parents
You’re both soft and gentle with your baby, and you’re glowing in a way that Luke just absolutely loves
Both of you have immense pride for your son or daughter and you fall in love immediately despite not even knowing if you were ready yet
You just…jump in and honestly it’s not so bad for you and Luke once your bundle of joy finally gets there
Lucerys especially is thrilled, winning the best dad award for always playing with your child or making up silly games to make them laugh
You love watching him interact with your baby because he’s just so good at it and he doesn’t even realize it
Sometimes, he’ll confess his insecurities that he might not do a good job at raising your kid and you literally have to be like: hold up. Luke you’re doing amazing already
He’d be scared and terrified on where this new adventure would lead but honestly, Lucerys has never been happier and in the end it would all work out
Also, he totally gets so excited when you let him pick out an egg for the baby, just like he did for his brothers
It’s almost like it’s tradition, and every single time Luke knows exactly the right one to choose
Aemond Targaryen
Finding Out
If you’re nervous to tell Aemond, then don’t be
Nine times out of ten he’s so perceptive that he’ll put it together himself and Aemond will be over the moon
He will not stop smiling the entire time the Maesters confirm it, pressing a hand to your stomach and kissing your belly
His reaction kind of throws you off a little bit because you’ve never seen him so excited in his life, but he reassures you that he’s been waiting so long for this moment and now he’s just ecstatic that it’s finally here
During Pregnancy
While you’re pregnant, Aemond hardly ever lets you leave your bed chambers. Nor does he let anyone other than your family or Maesters near you
He’s just so protective and he’s paranoid that something’s going to happen so he wants you to be safe at all costs
He definitely does his own research because it’s not like he distrusts the Maester’s, he just wants to be sure that he knows what they know and more about childbirth in case he has to step in
God forbid your baby won’t come or is stuck upside down—two common themes for Targaryen children. Aemond reads all about it so that he knows different ways of getting the baby out or repositioning it without hurting you
He’ll also read about different birth techniques and decides to teach you to make your labor easier
Making you drink raspberry tea, take walks or stretch to lesson your pain when the time comes
You have to admit, you’re a bit shocked when your husband comes to you and makes you start doing breathing exercises with him
After all, who would have thought Aemond of all people would be so involved and so devoted?
It definitely warms your heart to see though—and no matter how much you want to wave him, you always end up letting him help you because you trust your husband you know more than anything he has yours and your child’s best interests at heart
Giving Birth
Aemond will respect your privacy and will wait outside during your labors, but you better believe he’ll be right there
Listening to every scream and every detail just in case he feels the need to step in
If you really want him to be there, he absolutely will be in a heartbeat. And if anybody tries to stop him he’ll venomously tell them to get out of his way before pushing them aside
As much as he loves his incoming child, majority of Aemond’s focus will be on you and your safety
He’ll make sure everything is going smoothly before he even thinks about celebrating and only then will he finally start to smile, a grin like no other taking over his face when your baby is finally placed in his arms
After Birth
Aemond is a caring yet trusting father
He knows that if his child came from you, they’ll already grow up to be exceptional so he allows them to grow into their own person
He doesn’t hover, but he does care. A lot
He may not show it in every way but if your child wants his attention, they’ve got it. If they want to play with him, he absolutely will. If they want to be comforted? He’s there. They tell him they want some space? Then Aemond is in the next room over, ready to talk when they are
In a way, your children are way for Aemond to heal his own self. To be there as a parent like his never were
Early on, Aemond already swore to you and your babe that he would never abandon you or ignore you when you needed him most
He swore to break the curse his parents placed on him so he is very involved with his kids
He’s also very protective, especially considering what he went through in his childhood. He never wants his child to feel left out so Aemond will go searching for a dragon egg pretty early on
You better believe that thing is burning HOT until the moment it’s ready to be placed in your child’s cradle
And Aemond swears
He swears by the old gods and the new that if they allow his child to have their own dragon he would never commit another sin again, if that’s what it took
And sure enough, Aemond is beyond relieved when your babies egg hatches—the widest grin ever overtaking his face as the baby dragon prances about
You swear—you sometimes joke that it was Aemond’s fiery gaze on the egg that hatched it and not nature
And while that very well may be true, Aemond is just grateful nevertheless that even if he wasn’t delt the best cards, he sure would find a way to rig the game for his children
Anything just to make them happy
Daemon Targaryen
Finding Out
You wish you could say that after having two children of his own, your husband would recognize the signs of pregnancy
But unfortunately Daemon is not a man that concerns himself with that kind of stuff so it’s the Maester that points it out to him
And at first, Daemon is stunned
Like okay—he knows that he never pulls out and that the two of you go multiple rounds a day but pregnant?
He thought that your tits getting bigger was just, well, a huge blessing for him
He can hardly believe his ears or that he’s going to have more children
Briefly, he jokes that he may as well start breeding his own army which causes you to punch his arm
Joke aside though, Daemon is really happy and he will shower you with kisses, laughing slightly at how his seed must be extra strong to stick so fast
During Pregnancy
Daemon is not really much help himself, expect for when it comes to massages or warm baths
Almost every night, to ease your discomfort, your Lord husband will bathe you which is oddly intimate for him, or he will massage your feet and shoulders to soothe some of the pain
Of course, your other activities will remain as well which helps a little the closer you get to birth
Mostly, Daemon will be ordering Maesters around or just simply asking you of your progress from time to time
He really hopes for a boy secretly, and sometimes while you’re sleeping or just barely awake, he will rub your stomach and whisper sweet phrases in High Valerian
Expect Daemon to also already have the names of his children picked out, boy or girl
He might even ask Baela or Rhaena their opinion and let them choose an egg from Caraxes
If he has to be somewhere else where he cannot physically look after you, he’ll also entrust his daughters to keep them informed and up to date on your condition
Giving Birth
Daemon is outside, on the balcony while your screams reach his ears
Truth be told, it’s too much. He can’t be there as much he wants to be—as much as you surely need him to be
After witnessing Laena’s death, childbirth has become quite traumatizing for Daemon so he prefers to remain outside, waiting until a Maester or one of his daughters come to fetch him
Of course, Baela—ever her father’s daughter—scolds Daemon a bit and reminds him that every lady wife needs her husband during such times
But Daemon will not budge, not until Rhaena comes to the balcony with an unreadable expression on her face
At first, Daemon is terrified. He stands, the breath freezing in his lungs as he tries to decipher what that might mean. Your screams had died down…perhaps…
Daemon stands, his heart clenching in chest as he begins to possibly grapple with another untimely death of the one he loved. He prepares himself, but then a wide smile grows on Rhaena’s face and Daemon knows all is well
“My sibling is here. It is healthy, father.”
That’s all Daemon needs. And suddenly, he’s tearing himself away and down the halls, straight to your room where he walks in on the sight of your smiling face and the glowing cheeks of his newborn child
After Birth
You like to give Daemon the benefit of the doubt and say that he spends an equal amount of time with his children
Of course, maybe a little bit more attention towards the baby since he or she does need Daemon more than his adolescent children, but as your child grows up pretty much everything is the same
Baela and Rhaena absolutely adore their new sibling and vice versa. They may be a bit older but you’ll always find the three of them playing together or one of the girls reading them a bed time story
It always warms your heart to see them bond, and Daemon’s too
Though he’ll never admit it, his favorite thing to do is spy on his children and eavesdrop as the girls help the youngest with their Valerian
Or when the three of them are together, somehow still fitting on his lap and Daemon teaches them the history of their house while you sit in the background, smiling
It’s special moments like those that remind you that while you may have married a morally grey man, his number one priority would always be his family
And you know more than anyone that with Daemon around, the five of you would never have anything to fear
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aelenavelaryon · 4 months
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Daemon Targaryen x Targaryen Reader
Summary: Daemon finally finds love
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Aella Targaryen was nothing like the rest of her family. She couldn't be. Many would often said she was a sweet girl whose only mistake was to have Valyrian blood cursing through her veins. House Targaryen had been on the Iron Throne for over a hundred years, she could remember the throne, it was rather beautiful she would admit. But, House Targaryen was a cursed lineage. Aella thought it was because they were all related. Brothers married sisters, uncles married nieces, cousins married cousins.
When Aella was brought to court she was nothing but a babe. Only one perhaps two moons old. Daughter of Saera Targaryen and her brother Rhaegar Targaryen. Rhaegar and Saera had both been wild and untamable. The two ran away after Saera escaped Old Town and they were never seen again until now. Aella Targaryen was born in the year 105. Rhaegar brought his daughter to court, to present among the realm. Saera had died in her birthing chamber. Viserys, who had lost his wife a nearly two years prior welcomed them both. Aella grew up beside Alicent’s children and Rhaenyra's children.
Aella although growing up with her cousins she preferred to be alone, sitting in the gardens or her room and reading a history book. Her father wondered where she had gotten all of that, she was not like her mother or him. But, there were things he did like singing, poems and song writing much like his daughter. Aella had the basic training, in case she had to protect herself but the young girl no matter the circumstances could never and would never bring herself to hurt anyone. It wasn't in her blood no matter how much her father tried. But Rhaegar would protect his daughter no matter the cost. She rode Meraxes, queen Rhaenys dragon, the princess died that day but her dragon lived.
As the years passed, Aella Targaryen grew into a beautiful maiden. "The Realm's Angel" or "The Realm's Desire" surpassing her cousin Rhaenyra in beauty and everything else. Aella had reached her ten and five name day and was yet to be unmarried. Her father was the reason for that, although he was no king he saw that no one was fit to marry his only child. No one would ever be good enough. Alicent thought it would be a good idea to marry her to Aegon or Aemond if she wished. Rhaenyra thought she would be a great match for Jacaerys or Lucerys. Rhaegar Targaryen refused, once again. But, a few moons later he passed from a swollen belly, leaving his only child at the mercy of her family.
Aella didn't know who to choose as her family had given her the choice to marry who she wanted between the four boys. She was dutiful, whoever her uncle had chosen she would have married but she did not want to disappoint anyone by choosing wrong. The council knew that Aella marrying either of her nephews was a tragedy waiting to happen, so the young girl offered a marriage between another house but Rhaenyra, Alicent and the king denied her. Daemon who had recently lost his wife asked her to marry him, to unite themselves and protect each other. Aella was young, only fifteen summers old what did she know about love. She knew more about duty than love.
So, to stop any family issues or more drama she agreed and secretly married Daemon, consummating their marriage, now it could not be broken. The news reached King's Landing the morning after, creating chaos in the court. The king was fragile in health so he did nothing, besides they were married and they had consummated there was no breaking anything. Rhaenyra stayed in King's Landing, while Daemon, his wife and two daughters remained in Dragonstone. Nearly a year after their wedding Baelon Targaryen and Rhaegar Targaryen were born. Strong boys. On their second named day, their sisters Rhaella and Visenya had been born. When the boys were five, their sisters three Aemma and Viserys were born.
Baela and Rhaena quickly accepted Aella as she had this motherly warmth the girls loved and she had glady taken the role as their mother, not that she would try to replace the girls mother but she did her best to love and care for them as she did for her own children. Aella with Daemon's approval let the girls ride their dragons to Driftmark to visit their grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys were grateful that the young girl allowed them to visit their mother's family as much and as often as they could. The six children had been kept a secret through out the years. Aella was near her one and twenty name day. As a result, the king had invited her and her family to celebrate as a family.
Her arrival had been expected, Aegon was now married to Helaena and had two children, twins. Jaehaerys and Jaehaera. Aemond was unmarried but as far as she knew he was bethroted to a Baratheon girl. Jacaerys was to marry soon but his mother and father were looking for a suitable match. When she arrived, Daemon and the girls were waiting as her and the children had sailed there due to the young kids. Rhaenys and Corlys who were there watched their granddaughters run to their new mother. They saw the love the two girls had for her. King Viserys recovered and went back to being the peaceful king he was. He waited with his family as he watched Daemon help his wife.
She had turned into a beautiful woman, everyone could agree. She seemed happy with Daemon. And she was, he treated her good and with respect. "My king, my queen" she  greeted with a nod. "Princess Rhaenyra, Laenor" she said with a smile. She greeted everyone. "Now, may we present our children?" she asked and everyone turned to her. They were surprised. The king nodded and Daemon signaled the maids to bring them. "Baelon and Rhaegar, our oldest. Visenya and Rhaella out second oldest. Viserys and Aemma our youngest" Daemon introduced as the four oldest made their bows to the king and queen. The youngest were only one.
"May I?" the king asked as he took Aemma, she had her eyes. Rhaenys took Viserys. "Baelon looks like our father, and Rhaegar looks like Aemon" Rhaenys nodded in agreement. Everyone cooed over the Aella'a children and all she did was smile. During the feast for her nameday, Daemon and his wife could see the tension between Alicent and Rhaenyra. "I would like to propose an alliance between our families" Aella began. She had spoken with Corlys and Rhaenys, and of course her husband. "A bethrotal between Jacaerys and Baela. And Rhaena with prince Lucerys" she said with a smile. Rhaenyra smiled. "I think that is a great idea" Daemon held her hand and nodded. "In addition, if Aegon and Helaena agree Jaehaera could marry Baelon and Vinseya Jaehaerys" the table was quiet but Alicent smiled. "I think that is magnificent idea" the king nodded in agreement. "Our house will be united" she smiled happy with the outcome.
Aella Targaryen was a woman many remembered, she had given her family peace but that peace nearly broke when Otto Hightower deemed her dangerous, sending for someone to kill the princess. The princess perished on top of her dragon as a scorpion hit the beast right in the neck, killing it instantly. She received the same fate as queen Rhaenys. The lady didn't survive the fall. Daemon Targaryen never remarried but once he found out who killed her, the Hightowers, more importantly Otto, he was killed soon after. Alicent was pardoned as she didn't know anything. Rhaenyra was crown queen and the princess match's were honored as Baela married Jacaerys, Rhaena Lucerys, and once older Baelon and Visenya married Aegon's children.
The Sweet Summer Child died but her memory remained throughout the years. Aella Targaryen iii married her brother Rhaegar, giving him the heirs he needed. House Targaryen didn't end with Daenerys Targaryen, it went on. It prospered. From Aella Targaryen the first, came the prince that was promised and the realm lived in peace.
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avtrbee · 1 year
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in the beginning
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✢summary: in a final attempt to salvage the rift between your families, you suggest a marriage pact between you and and alicent’s second son
✢tags: aemond x targaryen!reader, reader is rhaenyra and laenor second born child
✢tw: kinda possessive (?) aemond, i specifically mention that reader has one purple eye and the other brown and white hair- other than that its all ambiguous, targcest 😭
✢a/n: gods this man has a chokehold on me fr, and the gif isnt mine
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You have never seen your mother so angry. After the disastrous family dinner, Rhaenyra Targaryen all but shoved her children inside her solar. The Princess of Dragonstone walks around in circles with fire in her footsteps and a finger in her mouth to soothe her anxiety, no doubt recalling the events a few moments prior.
Daemon sat comfortably on the seat behind your mother, seemingly amused by the situation. His violet eyes seem to glow in delight as he watches his wife scold her children. You had looked at him for help, but he only looked back as if saying, you’ve woken the dragon.
“I had thought you better than this!” She stops her strides and snaps her neck to the children huddled together on an ottoman. You, Luke, and Jace sit as close as you can together- a pathetic attempt to comfort each other from your mother's wrath. It is what you’ve always done, it’s what Rhaenyra had always taught you to do; protect each other.
Luke was the first to speak. “But he called us St-“
“Those whispers had been used against you since the moment you were born. I was wrong to hope you’d get used to it,” came your mother’s cold reply. An echo of the dinner fills the room. You all seemingly recall Aemond’s words, and all the whispers said before his- Strong bastards.
You feel Luke shrink back to his seat.
From the floor, you dared to gaze up at your mother. It was a mistake. As soon as you looked up, her violet eyes caught yours and the fire in her burned greatly.
“You were always the best of them,” Rhaenyra regards you with a furious gaze and a disappointed tone. “I had expected better from you. But for you to strike Alicent’s eldest son-"
“He called them bastards!” You argue, anger seeping through your pores and out to the air of your mothers chamber. “Aegon deserved it.”
“Them,” Rhaenyra repeats. “Them, not you. I had thought you knew better than to meddle in business you are not part of, Y/N.”
In truth, Rhaenyra is relieved that out of all her children with Laenor you are the one no one would dare question your legitimacy. Rhaenrya’s only daughter did not inherit the dark Baratheon hair of their grandmother (or the hair of a Strong, as the traitorous whispers insist), but the Valyrian features House Targaryen and House Velaryon are so famous for- silver as hair and an amethyst for an eye. It was a pity you are her second born and not her first.
Like Luke, you feel yourself curl back in your seat. “I’m sorry, mother.”
“Do you know what you have done?” Rhaenyra’s voice calls out as you cowardly stare at the floor, refusing to meet her gaze. You feel Luke’s hand sneak to hold yours in an attempt to comfort you. “In any other fight, I would have defended you tooth and nail, but this is a fight that you had started.”
“I’m sorry,” you repeat, unable to say anything else. In truth, it all began with Aemond, the roasted pig, and Luke’s unstifled giggles. Aemond got angry, but words were only words. You had punched Aegon first, and it became the catalyst of the fragile truce. You were not blind nor stupid, you have felt the tension between your mother and the Queen Regent. It had been made worse with Aemond’s bullying and the loss of his eye. And now you.
You knew how important the dinner was until you ruined it. Foolish, foolish, girl.
If there were to be a war in House Targaryen, history would blame Princess Y/N Velaryon and her temper. The fall of Valyria’s last surviving houses was caused by your hands, and a glance at Rhaenyra’s pregnant belly makes the guilt inside you grow. You have done nothing but cause her stress, especially when she is pregnant with your youngest sibling.
“Y/N is your grandmother reborn,” Viserys whispered as he first held you, back when you were still a babe. Rhaenyra watched as her father caressed her daughter’s cheek in wonder at her mismatched eyes.
Perhaps Alyssa Targaryen is why Viserys had favored Y/N out of all his grandchildren, and perhaps she is the reason why Daemon defends her.
“She was protecting her brothers,” came his voice behind Rhaenyra. Or perhaps he is hungry for another war.
“But it’s true,” argued Jace. “It is no use denying it when it is so obvious.” Rhaenyra regards her son with pity in her eyes, the fire of her anger fading regret. “It doesn’t matter anyway, for the fathers that supposedly sired us are both dead.”
“No,” argued Rhaenyra, finally striding over to all three of her oldest children. Her hands extend to touch you and Jace’s cheeks as Luke sandwiches between you. The Princess of Dragonstone kneels in front of her children and regards them slowly. “Your claim to the throne is not given by any man. You have a claim to the throne because I am its heir. ”
You and your siblings nod in unison.
Jace, your oldest brother, attempts to set an example. “We shall apologize to the Queen and her children for the trouble we’ve caused,” he proposes. You wonder what the realm will be like when he becomes King. “Luke will apologize to Aemond first-” Jace emphasizes his last words, fully expecting Luke’s reaction. “And Y/N shall apologize to Aegon.”
Rhaenyra regards Jace with a proud look. “What a great King you will be, sweet boy. But Alicent won’t accept this. Not after Aemond’s eye.” Beside you, Luke cringes no doubt recalling the past. “Not after one of her sons is harmed again,” Rhaenyra continues and it is your turn to try not to cower at your mothers words.
Rhaenyra stares at her eldest children, waiting for the ferocious anger within to lull and fade to a steady fire. Finally, she takes pity on the three young princes and princess whose gaze remains firmly on their laps.
“Look at me,” she commanded and all of you obey instantly. This action seems to let a small smile loose on her face as your three heads jut up to her command reminds her of a small litter of puppies eager for their mother. But you are not pups.
“My three-headed dragon,” she calls to you all affectionately, before kissing your foreheads one at a time. Is there anything she won’t do for you? “I will handle this. Go to your rooms. We depart for Dragonstone in a day’s turn.”
Luce and Jace stand from your shared seats immediately, eager to leave while Rhaenyra grants them her good spirits. But not you. You remain in your thoughts, the impending dread of the destruction of your House brought by your own foolishness is heavy in your head. You feel even worse as you have left your mother to clean up your messes once again.
“Sweetling?” Rhaenyra calls and you look up to her. She smiles as you gently, with all the love splattered in her face as she jerks her head to the doors of her chamber. It was as if she was never angry in the first place. “You may go.”
“Wed me to Aemond.” Your demand comes fast but quiet, tumbling out of your mouth before you had even thought of what you have said. You were grasping straws, desperate to mend your House in the only way you knew how.
From his seat, Daemon had his arms resting on his knees as his fists joined to cover his mouth in contemplation. He has an eyebrow raised in surprise, but his eyes were elsewhere possibly considering the match. You appeal to him first.
“It is a peaceful option, to end the rift between the two families in our House,” you argue. “And I am of age, and so is he.”
“It is a good match,” Daemon concedes, looking up at Rhaenyra. You follow his eyes and you meet your mother gazing at you with pity or sadness in her eyes- you could not tell.
“Do you know what that means, sweetling?” She asks, her hand coming to hold your nape. “You’d have to stay here, in Kings Landing. You’d have to leave Dragonstone. You’d have to leave me.”
“Aemond and I were friends once,” you reply, recalling fond memories you had in this Keep with your cousins. Aemond had always been a kind, soft-spoken boy and though he definitely changed as the years passed by, you were certain he was still the child you befriended deep inside.
Still, you cannot ignore the looks he had given you at the dinner. You had been seated between Aegon and Luke, far from the end of the table where Aemond was but you felt his stare all night as you ate your meal. The few times you dared to look at him, he had already been looking back with a predatory stare.
There is a hunger in his gaze, like a hunter seizing his prey for capture. You hated how he made you feel so small, for you are every bit of a dragon as he is, if not more.
“He will be kind,” you insist, not believing it yourself. “And I…” You struggle to find the right words. “I am of excellent Valyrian heritage. The Queen and Aemond won’t see this offer as an insult.”
“This mess was created by the Queen and I. And now our children are paying for it,” Rhaenyra kisses your forehead again- longer this time, like she wanted to pour out all of the love she had for her only daughter out through the kiss. “I don’t deserve you. I shall talk to Alicent once the sun rises.” Her hands cradle your face, her thumb stroking your face. “Avy jorrāelan.”
I love you.
“Avy jorrāelan,” you reply.
-
As if tradition, ladies and lords, palace maids, stable boys and aspiring knights have all gathered within the main courtyard every morning in hopes to catch Ser Criston Cole and Aemond Targaryen spar on dirt and rubble. Today, even more people are gathered as the two men have been sparing with live steel. You watch with them today, not being able to catch any proper sleep last night.
The clink-clang sounds of steel swords are heard across the yard, creating a rhythm for the hymn of violence Ser Criston and Aemond are so fond of. You sense the fight coming to its end as Aemond’s shield is smashed by Ser Criston’s morning star. At the loss of his defense, Aemond charges with his sword, clashing and slashing while Ser Criston narrowly dodges. Aemond is slower today, you notice and you are soon proven right when Ser Criston manages to put his palm on Aemond’s chest. With a thud, Ser Criston pushed Aemond to the ground, dangling his morning star in front of the prince’s face. Aemond watches the spiked ball swing once, twice, before declaring his defeat.
“I yield.”
Despite the prince’s defeat, his audience shower him with scattered applause. With the fight coming to an end, so did its audience with servants scurrying back to their duties and ladies heading back to the keep. Some fawning ladies and knights chose to stay to discuss their admiration among themselves.
“Do not be discouraged, my prince,” called Ser Criston as he held out a hand to the fallen prince.
Aemond took it begrudgingly. “I am not discouraged.”
“But you are distracted.” Ser Criston says, matter-of-factly with a raised eyebrow.
From where you stand, you see Aemond clench his jaw in annoyance. He averts his face from Ser Criston’s judging glance to your direction. You see the exact moment his eye light up in fascination and curiosity to your presence.
“Niece,” Aemond greets, dusting off the dirt from his breeches. He looks at you similar to how he stared at you all night at dinner. “Have you come to watch how true swordsmen fight?”
You force yourself to smile, ignoring the obvious slight to your brothers’ inferior skills. “My prince,” you greet, looking at his form. Aemond had become tall- unimaginably taller than he ever was as a child. He carries himself confidently, but your eyes are quick. You stare at his upper arm, and the growing dark stain on his shirt. “Come, my prince, you are wounded. Let me treat you.”
Aemond humors you a dry smile. “You have quick eyes, my princess.”
You watch as his tall figure walks towards you, his long legs making the distance between you seem shorter. You turn and walk with Aemond on your heels following your every step. You have no doubt that his mouth is curled in that sly smirk, wondering what business did the daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen have to do with him.
You could feel his curiosity grow as you led him to your solar. He sits comfortably on a chair while you stand, receiving the kit that your servant handed you. You quietly thank her and ask her to shut the door.
“I must say,” Aemond starts, looking around your solar in fascination. He relaxes on your chair like it is his solar he is in, not yours. “I am in confusion as to what I may have done to earn Princess Y/N Velaryon’s special attention.”
You ignore him, heading straight for the bowl of warm water placed beside him before dipping a rag in it. “You must remove your shirt for me to clean the wound,” you say.
Aemond holds your gaze for a moment before following your orders immediately. He shrugs off his tunic without looking away. With his shirt gone, you are greeted by the sight of his pale chest. You immediately take note of his broad shoulders, his arms, and the thin layer of sweat from his previous fight. Aemond is lean, but his physique was hardened by muscles gained from his mastery of the sword. You avert your eyes and try to not let it bother you.
It does, and he notices and responds with a smug smirk.
His arm, finally clear of any clothes, you dab your rag around the wound gently. “I have noticed that there has been a division between your family and mine,” you begin slowly, eyes darting to his face to gauge his reaction. “A division that you have suffered the consequences of the most.”
Aemond gives nothing away from his face but a calm and cool look. If he is in pain from the hot water and his wound, you cannot even tell. You wonder if he is stone cold silent from all the painful memories his brother and your brothers- and by extension you had caused.
No, you remind yourself. Aemond is not with his sister then one would have better chances finding him in your company than his brothers. However, you have always been torn apart by the family, always stuck in the middle as they fight in which you respond by turning a blind eye. You are complicit in his terrible childhood and the loss of his eye.
Still, you have always been polite and kind to Aemond. A bare minimum that he had cherished greatly after the lack of affection found in his family, to the point where your mother suspected Aemond harboring a childhood crush on you after he shyly gave you a red rose from the gardens before promptly running away.
Of course, every semblance of his affection died with the loss of his eye.
“You are angry, I understand that,” you continue, dabbing his wound gently still. “But I was wondering if you would find it within yourself to look past-”
“Look past?” His voice is sharp, but his face remains still. His eye, however, gives his anger away- a blazing violet that echoes the same dragon-like anger your mother had last night. “You ask me to forget that your brother stole my eye out of the goodness of my heart?”
“No,” you reply immediately. “You were both innocent children, but Lucerys should not have come out of that without consequences.”
Aemond tilts his head and leans closer to you. His violet eye searches your face challengingly. “And what do you offer?”
“Me.” Your voice rings out in your chamber as Aemond fails to reply with a sly retort. For the first time, a soft look of disbelief crosses his face. You reach to grasp his hand with your free palm, your mouth ready to list your reasons but before you could even touch him, Aemond had already grabbed your palm and pulled you to him.
“You?” He asked, a darkness filling his eyes. You do not know if he’s giddy or if he is mocking you. His grip on your hands are tight and you feel a tremble wash over you. “If you are to be my wife, you would be mine,” he reminds you.
Aemond’s tone is gentle but his intentions are anything but. You cannot help but swallow in nervousness, and Aemond’s eye follows your throat as the lump travels down. There is a danger lurking underneath your uncle, and he looks at you like he has won a game you did not even know you were playing.
“Yes, I would.” You agree. You try to shift your head to escape his gaze, but his hands capture your cheeks before you could even move. His fingers squish your face gently but with an unheard threat of harm if you dare to move again.
“Mine,” he whispers in awe at you, like he could not believe the possibility. “And what do your brothers think of that?”
“They-” you struggle to speak as his fingers squeeze your face. “They do not know.”
This news brings Aemond a small smile. This is the first time you have ever seen Aemond close to joy after the loss of his eye. “I could do anything to you if you were my wife. You would share my chambers, and my bed. You will bear my children. They surely would not like that, would they?” Aemond looks across the room as if fantasizing the displeasure on your brothers’ face or you growing his seed inside you- you do not know.
You feel his hands crawl to your face, cradling it almost lovingly. “And if I use you for my revenge?” Aemond whispers. “Would you offer me an eye for your brother’s debt, my lady?”
He does not wait for an answer when he continues. “Have you ever seen me without my eyepatch, my lady?”
It takes you a second to recover. You blink at him, wondering if you heard him right. You wring your hands nervously, unsure to where Aemond was getting at. “I can’t say I have, my prince.”
In an instant, his hand leaves your face and snatches his eyepatch off like it was poison before throwing the piece of leather on the ground in disgust. “And now?”
Aemond abruptly stands from his chair, and you are left to scramble away. It was like he was challenging you with the sight of his eyes. You take a step back as Aemond steps forward, leaning down on you to make sure you have a good look at the long jagged line that runs across his left side, and the sapphire that replaced his eye.
You struggle to keep your eyes on Aemond’s bare face as his sudden closeness makes you realize that he still is shirtless. If you tilt your head down, you would be met by his pale chest and if he moves any closer your nose would soon touch it.
“Would you still offer yourself to me, little lady?” Aemond asks. “Even with my sapphire eye?”
A sudden boldness overcomes you. “Are you trying to scare me, my prince?” You tiptoed to his height, leaning in as close as you dared, until your nose had brushed his. You look at him unfalteringly meeting the gaze of his eye and jewel.
“If I am to be your wife, my Valyrian eye is yours by right,” you jerk your head to the right, gesturing to your purple eye. Aemond looks unfazed at your bold declaration, choosing to remain still and stare at you but you see him steal a glance at the right side of your face.
Finally, you take a step back, removing yourself from his personal space and head to the kit your made gave you to get a slave. You turn to face Aemond again, only to find him seated back in the chair.
“My mother is with yours now,” you tell him, scooping a generous amount of salve on your fingers before spreading it across his wound. “No doubt trying to convince her of the possibility of our union. I just wanted to let you hear it from my lips first.”
As if on cue a knock echoes throughout your solar before a maid from Queen Alicent’s staff pops her head in your rooms. She curtsies before she says, “My lady, my prince, the Queen and the Princess have summoned you to the Queen’s solar.”
Before you could respond, Aemond was already walking out the door, eyepatch already back on his head. His arms move to wear his tunic back on. “Let’s go.”
This time, it is Aemond who leads the way as you follow.
-
“Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N, your Grace,” announced the maid as you and Aemond entered.
This is not the first time you have entered Alicent’s solar. The space is often filled with her attendants, as Helaena and her children and Aemond are often inside. Today it is only the Queen Alicent and your mother occupying the solar.
They sit in front of the fireplace to warm them in this cool morning, and a jug of wine on the side.
The Queen and the princess sport wide smiles and a faint blush on their cheeks from drinking.
The ambiance of the room is joyous. Rhaenyra’s head is thrown back from laughter as Alicent’s head is bowed down trying to stifle her giggles. You have never seen your mother look so carefree before, not with your father, nor with Daemon. Thus it baffles you further to see the Queen and the Princess of Dragonstone so comfortable with each other.
Almost hidden behind their thick gowns, you spot their hands interlocked. You turn to the side to meet Aemond’s equally curious stare.
“Oh!” Alicent spots you first. “There you are.”
Rhaenyra turns in your direction at Alicent’s voice. Your mother stands and walks to you, wrapping her hand on the side of your head as she kisses your temple. “Sweet girl,” she coos at you quietly.
“Viserys drones on and on about how she mirrors Alyssa, but she is Laenor through and through,” comments Alicent as her eyes roam your figure up and down. Beside her, Aemond has taken your mother’s seat beside the Queen.
Rhaenyra chuckles warmly. “If you ask me, I find that she is an echo of you, your Grace. Kind, dutiful, beautiful…” She trails off and shakes her head before gesturing to Aemond. “Your son echoes you the most though.”
Alicent looks at Aemond with a fond smile. It is obvious whose child the Queen favors. Out of all the Queen’s children, none have grown to look like her, except perhaps Aemond. He seems like an eerie mirror of his mother’s father with Valyrian coloring, but his eyes and smile are all Alicent’s. “Ah, yes,” she muses. “But his temperament mirrors you, Rhaenyra.”
A foreign look of regret slips on your mother's face like a mask. “Gods help this realm if I were born a man,” your mother whispers. “The things I would have done.”
Alicent and Rhaenyra share a sad knowing look. There is a longing in your mother’s words a deep, old, painful tone. The Queen looks at your mother almost regrettably but filled with affection all the same. The moment feels intimate to both of them, perhaps recalling their childhood when they held each other close to their hearts.
Never have you seen your mother look so vulnerable to anyone, much more in front of the Queen she resents. A quick glance at Aemond shows that this side of Alicent is new to him too.
The moment is quickly broken by Alicent. She clasps her hands together on her lap. “I assume that both of you know the matter of why I have summoned you here?”
You nod at your Queen while Aemond confirms dutifully, “Yes, mother.”
Alicent turns in her seat to regard her son. “I admit I have already consented to the match, but it is your opinion that I value the most. What say you, Aemond?”
Aemond takes a deep breath, his single eye sliding over to look at your mother behind you and finally at you. You know his act of pondering is false. You knew his answer as soon as you felt his gaze at the dinner table, and confirmed it at the glint of his eye when you had offered yourself. You wonder if he is repeating your offer in his head, the promise of your whole being, and your eye if he wishes it.
“I shall do my duty,” came Aemond’s response with a passive face.
Alicent smiles at her son proudly. “Congratulations, Aemond. You will be a fine husband, I know it.” She turns her head to you, “And to you, Y/N. This union is welcome and the realm shall rejoice when it is announced.”
Aemond is before you in an instant, holding out his hand for yours in which you had no choice but to give it. To your surprise, your betrothed merely raises it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “My lady.”
The touch of his lips on your hand jolts you awake and makes your heart skip a beat- from fear or from romance you do not know. A nervous smile spreads itself on your face nonetheless. “My prince.”
“Come,” your mother says, heading for the door. “We must tell Daemon and your brothers of this news.”
The mention of your brothers makes Aemond look more sly as he stares at you to leave. You curtsy to the Queen and now to your betrothed before following Rhaenyra.
“Rhaenyra,” Alicent’s voice rings out.
You see your mother hitch a breath before turning swiftly. “Yes, my Queen?”
“Stay,” Alicent asks, and suddenly it was like the two of them were alone in the room once more. Both Alicent and Rhaenyra were dead to the world when they looked at each other so fondly. There is heavy tension in the air, but different from the fraying truce of last night’s dinner. No one is on guard or cautious. It strangely feels like home. It is healing. “Even for a couple of weeks. The matter is resolved, there is no reason for you to return to Dragonstone so promptly.”
A genuine smile spread on Rhaenyra’s face and she had never looked so happy. “I’d like that.”
A smile tries to spread on Alicent’s face, but she turns around before it grows fully. “You are dismissed.”
-
alicent and rhaenyra: hahaha our children remind us of each other what if they get married
i firmly believe that is rhaenyra was born a boy or if westeros is lgbt friendly, she would have chosen alicent as her wife in a heartbeat.
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lady-ashfade · 9 months
Text
Bound By Birth
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The yandere boy’s reaction to you being their sweet, smaller twin and being obsessed.
Characters: Lucerys Velaryon, Jacaerys Velaryon, Aemond Targaryen.
Theses aren’t complete HC’s just some I thought about, but if you want a part 2 or a fic based on it please let me know.
Warnings: Yandere tendencies, Obsession, Possessive, Targaryen ways if you know what I mean, stalking, a bit hinted or nswf a bit but nothing is said that much!
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Aemond Targaryen
As soon as Aemond came out of the womb he had lost this sense of warmth and comfort, like he knew you weren’t with him. The new born screamed until you had entered the world a few minutes later and the room felt silent from his crys, only to be full with yours.
From his first breath he knew he belonged with you.
We all know aemond had no dragon that hatched from the egg so he lost that feeling but he had you. The gods had blessed him with something far greater then any dragon he could ever have. Needless to say he thinks of you as his to have since you are his twin.
Little man is possessive from the get go, like he can not bare to be away from you. So you always had him following your trail everywhere you went.
Aemond felt heartbroken when your egg hatched and his had yet too, only to discover the egg was never going to hatch. He was beyond jealous. He and you were supposed to have everything alike, dress the same, eat the same food and share the same toys.
But then that’s when it clicked into his brain you are his dragon. Yes, the gods did this on purpose.
No matter the gender his mind always pictured your wedding day.
Hates it when you train with your dragon and he can’t. Like gets really upset. He does get picked on but you’re there to save him, making him fall harder.
He swears one day he would protect you.
Aegon and the other boys are out of the question for him. You aren’t allowed to hang out with them at all, and if you are? He will pull you away quickly without a word and drag you off away from them.
When he gets his eye taken from him he couldn’t handle your eyes looking at him. Feels ashamed for the curse now on his face because he can’t be handsome or beautiful for you.
But the joy he feels inside when you weep beside him and hold his hand, he feels some sort of pride that you care for him deeply.
Female twin:
Knows you are meant to marry him. He doesn’t even have to convince Alicent very hard to wed you because she needs you to stay safe.
Matching your dresses to his outfit all the time.
He trains to impress you one day, maybe protect you in a fight. If you are ever watching the boys practice he will try his hardest which sometimes leads to him embarrassing himself. But you are there to smile and kiss his cheek with grace.
After that the two of you grow, well he changes into a different man but you stay the same sweet girl.
Aemond has become your protector. Always behind you and glaring at anyone who passes a glance that isn’t welcome. Man is ready to kill with just one word.
Since he is older his mind grows and he can’t stop noticing how beautiful you really are. The body, the hair, or just the sound of your sweet voice. He is addicted and can’t wait to have you as his wife.
Is a beast at fighting now. Gets a boost when you watch from above and see him win every time. Cole is his wingman and will pair him up with someone to put on a good fight just for you.
Male twin
Knows the gods made you smaller and younger then him just so you can be his. From the time he realized what marriage was he was thinking of you.
When you are younger and training he hates embarrassing himself around you, like hated it. Or when you’d pair up with the other boys, even Aegon. Aemond will hate to spar against you and he couldn’t imagine hurting you. But this is more time he can bound with you.
When he loses his eyes- Boy is more angry that he doesn’t look more like you now. You were his twin brother and are supposed to look the same. Aemond does feel the same when he sees you cry for him and tell him he will be okay. But he’s gained a dragon now. One to protect you.
Aemond is just glaring at people while you’re just smiling at everyone. Two separate handsome boys.
He doesn’t care if you’re a boy, you are his twin and he is meant to have you. He hates the thought of you marrying a woman, or anything- Will not share you with anyone.
You both match clothes all the time and he makes sure to tell the servants to dress you both alike or he will be angry.
He is still your protector at all cost and will let nobody harm you in any way. Not his sweet brother.
Just as well, when he grows his mind picks up on your handsome face, your smaller height. He feels better about himself because he could easily overpower you, being the bigger male twin does something to him. He loves it when you get angry at how you can’t grow as much muscle or height as him.
You both train together and he will teach you. Sometimes he will let you win, other times he wouldn’t because he loves you looking a bit sad- You might not be as big or strong but you have speed and can move away from him quickly. He loves to praise you for the smallest things.
Lucerys Velaryon
As I have said in my past fics he is a clingy boy. From birth he loves you because you are his partner in life and he knows it.
Lucerys does cry a lot when he is away from you, but he is also a happy baby as long as he is near you, just like aemond. I think at the young age he just knows you’re his twin.
I picture you however being the first one to walk and he’s just on the floor trying to follow you. Throws a tantrum when you walk away. But, his first steps are when rhaenrya tries to get him to walk and he does…only to walk passed her and over to you.
Growing up he follows you around like a lost puppy. Clings to you where ever you go and if you don’t give him your attention, he will find a way to get it. He does get jealous when jace is around because he’s older, boy just wants you to pay attention to him.
He has planned many pranks with you. Might even do a few on you but feels bad immediately afterwards.
When your father “dies” he realizes his role is to take on driftmark and he fears it. So he gets more possessive after that.
Hates being called Bastard but when someone calls you that? Boy is pulling you away and telling his mother for just the slightest judgement against you. Might even get daemon on it because he is more ruthless.
He tells his mother when he was younger to betroth the two of you and she sees how much you two love each other. However when you both get older he yells at her that he will not marry anyone else but you, no matter what. And he never disobeys her but this was different and she knows he telling the truth.
Even if you are a male he will take no wife. Because that means she would be yours as well. But let’s be honest, rhaenrya is planning to betrothed the both of you to someone. 
He kisses your cheek all the time or holds you hands, doesn’t really care who’s watching.
He still pranks you however, like taking your books and holding them above your head.
He is more clingy then the rest of them but not as dangerous- Well, not himself but will get others to do the dirt work.
Male twin:
He knows he’s small but he’s still young, but you? You’re shorter then him and less muscular and it makes him happy. Because that means he can protect you better then you can yourself.
He compares his frame to yours constantly, you’re such a smaller boy and he picks on you a bit. Not mean, but he can be a bit cocky at times.
You already know you both have matching outfits- Every day. Even pjs.
You both used to spar with each other all the time because it was so much fun, and he didn’t like you going against anyone in the fear of you being hurt.
Older sparring is fun because he isn’t that good at it and you’re almost just as bad. From any age he is so embarrassed to mess up in front of you. But maybe if he beats you then you can praise him for it.
Also, he can be alone with you and no one bats an eye because you’re both boys. So he can be as affectionate as he wants.
But nothing really changes for being a boy or a girl in his eyes, he’s just the same with both.
Female reader.
Younger him thinks it’s like a book about a princess and prince, just like the ones your mother read to the two of you.
Because you’re a female he gets more jealous of the males in his family, not saying he doesn’t for male you but this is different. You can easily be betrothed to any of them, he hates it.
Begs your mother to have you as his wife from a young age as well. It’s your birth right to be his bride. And again this means he has no use of another wife because you can have children. There is no one else he wants.
Matching dresses to his outfits and if you want to wear something else? Pouts. He can’t bare to not be in the same color as you.
Sparring is different because he is so terrified of hurting you. He will not even use force on his swings, but a few low hits. You can cry and get angry he isn’t trying but he wouldn’t care.
Kisses you in private all the time, “You’ll be my wife one day.”
Glares at any male that talks to you, even his brother. Tugs at your hand and just joins at your hip.
You can’t be alone together…Unless he sneaks in your room. Will just hold you until you both fall asleep.
Loves to braid your hair. Like he learns just for you.
Jacaerys Velaryon
He is the first born, so he knows he’s missing you. He, just like the others, is waiting for your presence.
Somehow even baby him wiggles closer to you in the cradle. They had to put you two in the same cradle because he wouldn’t stop fussing about being away from you.
He is more calm at this time, like if you get picked up? He’s going to watch but he’s just chilling unless you are out of his sight.
Loves to show you his toys, even though you have seen them so many times. Loves to share them with you too.
Have you seen those videos of babies hugging each other? Literally him with you.
He isn’t as different from the other two at this point.
Jace learns he is to become king and always calles you the future queen/king. And I mean actually correcting his mother or anyone else.
“The gods put us together, it stays that way.”
Loves when you hold his arm or chase him around playing tag.
Hates Aegon or aemond. He’s okay with lucerys, just don’t give him more attention.
Knows he is a bastard and that makes you one too and he fears for you the most.
Older him is just as bad if not more.
Tails behind you and always have his hand around your waist. Always doing everything together.
Even baths, not in the same room but at the same time- And he’s tried to be in the same tub. But going to clothes, studying and to the same sheets as you.
Gets angry if it’s even mentioned that you would marry someone else. Yells about how you will role beside him and no one can change that.
He’s kinda angry a lot when it comes to you. Wouldn’t really let anyone get too close, like not even your personal time. You want to read a book? Okay, he will be in the corner doing his own thing.
But he’s sweet to you always unless you say you can’t marry him, then it’s just him pushing you to think you have no choice.
Male twin
You think you can get away from this man? Um no, he is always near you.
From a young age he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. Can’t play without him, can’t study without him, or train. Anything you do is what he is doing.
Training with younger him isn’t that bad- Well, okay it’s a bit. He really loves to win against you and does the most. He wouldn’t hurt you but if you fall it isn’t his fault, you should be praising him for being so strong.
Dressing the same each time and will literally throw a tantrum if not. Saying the future king demands it.
After a few years, I think he might be the most possessive about you. The only time you can leave him or go somewhere in the castle is with his mother.
Man is always with you every step, linking your arms.
You already know he is picking on you for being so much smaller then him. I see him as such a cocky man for some reason. Saying things like
“You can’t get that, let me.” “I’m surprised you can even pick up a sword.” “How can a man be that small?”
Training with him older is him teaching you- Mostly useless stuff so he can still win. Just like when he was a kid, loves to win against you.
Matching outfits with you.
Boy knows you are to be king with him and will not stop at anything to get that point across.
Female twin
Boy is holding your hand as you lead him anywhere or him you. He with not leave you for anything.
Matching your dresses to his colors or you wearing his favorite colors- Or him just picking them out for you. If jace doesn’t like your dress he will make you change it.
Is ready before you get done in the morning and comes in as soon as you get your dress on, much to his dismay because he could help you change.
Wouldn’t let the maids touch your skin or go anywhere. The only place that can help you with is your hair and clothes. Loves to let his hands linger on your neck while he places a necklace on you. Or helping you pick everything out.
Escorts you everywhere you need to go. He isn’t afraid to have a tight grip on your waist if you try and get away from him. Can and will gaslight you anytime he wants.
Just like the others he already told his mom he will marry you. You think he will care if she says no? Ha, he wouldn’t care.
While he is studying you are in the corner or with your mother.
He doesn’t really like your time with the other children but is kinda okay with it. Only if you pay attention to him more.
Sneaks into your room at night and will kiss you for as long as he can. Holds you close and brushes your hair until you fall asleep. Doesn’t even care if he leaves marks on you so the others can see.
He does kill in secret if need be or gets them killed by guards, maybe even by daemon or rhaenrya.
Daemon has taught him a few things on how to wow a woman and how to keep you in line, even things to do to you in bed.
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achaoticeternal · 1 year
Text
bewitched.
AEMOND TARGARYEN X FEM!READER
summary: more word has arrived to you regarding your husbands infidelity. as he returns to you, you present him with a choice.  word count: 2k warnings: drinking. strong language. angst. adultery. pain. a/n: see end of the piece for author’s note
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
choose your own ending...
— ending 1.
— ending 2.
— ending 3.
— ending 4.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
“My lady,” Your chambermaid spoke from the doorway, returning with a fresh pitcher of wine as you had requested, “Should I see the children to bed?”
“Please do,” Your voice was soft, the words fragile in your solemn state.
“It might be best for you to rest, rather than await the return of Prince Aemond.”
Her words were gentle, simply advising you to take care of yourself. But the fires of hurt and betrayal were already lit. 
“What makes you believe that I am awaiting my husband?” With words more venomous than you intended, you bid her leave.
At the sound of the door shutting, you stood and moved toward the pitcher and chalice left idly by the fireplace. You poured the deep red liquid and lifted the cup to your lips, taking a generous gulp.  The dull burn allowed some relief to your heightened senses. But you also knew that the alcohol only added fuel to your fire. 
Rain began to pour over King’s Landing, softly thudding against the windows and stone of the castle walls. Usually, the rain would lull you to sleep, but it seemed the thunder of the skies only spurred you to continue drowning away the ache in your heart. Your eyes flickered over the second chalice that had been placed on the silver tray with your pitcher. It seemed that the servants expected Aemond to return to the Keep tonight. You were not sure if you wish for him to return or for him to drown in the heavy rains that poured from the sky. 
As if the fool perfectly timed you, you glanced out the window to see the silhouette of Vhagar descending toward the Dragon Pits. In a drunken frenzy, you pulled the curtain to cover it, instead, the velvet fabric came down at your harsh tug. 
The frustration would nearly boil over, but you did not allow the simple issues to push you over the threshold. As the Queen had often advised you, it was important that a lady bite her tongue and keep her composure even when she is by her lonesome. If someone saw the illusion of a proper lady shatter, it would be nearly impossible to recover from. She even revealed to you how she had come by this knowledge, sharing with you the events that occurred the night Aemond became the one-eyed prince.  
Swiftly, you moved back toward the fireplace, picking up the parcel that a raven had delivered directly to you just this morning. It appeared blank to the simple eye, but when you hovered the note over the fire, the message revealed itself. The contents of it were simple, but completely shattered something inside of you:
She is with child. 
Though the news had shocked you, the existence of the other woman did not. When Aemond and Daeron laid siege to Harrenhal and the Riverlands, word had traveled through the courts regarding the princes bedding other women. At the time, you had bit your tongue, excusing your husband’s infidelity as you convinced yourself it was just something he used to relieve his stress from battlefields. 
But even after the marches through the Riverlands were claimed to be successful and at an end, Aemond would sometimes fly off to Harrenhal. He would say that he was just ensuring the hold that the Greens had on the region, yet you never believed his lies. 
It was said that Harrenhal was cursed, blood mixed into the stone that built it. You believed the stories true after the great fire took the lives of Lord Lyonel and Ser Harwin when you were a child yourself. But now a curse had attached itself to your husband and kept him crawling back to the towers of Harrenhal. 
The door cracked open, the hinges creaking as he entered, exhaustion painted over his face. Aemond was completely drenched, his hair now scrunched into waves rather than falling perfectly straight. Most of his leather overlayer had been discarded for the servants to see to, leaving him in a black tunic and pants with his riding boots.
It took him a few moments, but Aemond quickly came to realize that you were resting by the fire rather than fast asleep in your shared bed. 
“Should you not be sleeping, dear wife?” Aemond called out to you while readying himself to turn into bed. 
“Sleep has… escaped me recently,” You replied, eyes remaining on the fire. Only at his words did the nerves begin to spur inside you. How would he react when you told him? What would tomorrow bring? None of it really mattered, you supposed, as long as you didn’t allow your nerves to get the best of you. 
Now in his proper bedclothes, Aemond began to approach the fireplace. He noticed the half-empty pitcher of wine, slightly shocked that you were partaking this late at night. Usually, you would reserve yourself to only enjoying wine at dinners or feasts, not in your marriage chambers. His eye flickered to the second chalice that sat empty on the silver platter. His slender fingers reached to grasp it, “Would this cup be for me?”
You turned your head, looking between the pitcher and chalice but never into his eye, “The maid brought it with her, probably as a formality. No one expected you back tonight.”
Aemond’s brow furrowed at the tone you spoke with, and it caught the prince off guard when you returned your gaze to the fire rather than continuing to speak with him. He poured his own chalice with wine and allowed himself to enjoy it. He stayed in place, unwavering from his position as he looked down on you.
The air went still… the taste of the wine began to sour in his mouth. He sensed something to be out of place, yet he could not pinpoint it. Usually, you would be elated to see him, but recently you were far more reserved from your husband. Aemond was not sure if he should be upset or concerned, but did not ponder on the thought too much as he allowed himself to attend to his duties rather than his wife. 
With a sigh and a light cough to clear his throat, the prince finally spoke once more, “Come to bed…”
The pause settled again before your soft chuckle hung in the air. Quickly, you stood from your seated position and drowned the remainder of your chalice in one swig. You moved to the table and refilled your cup till the pitcher ran dry. Instead of crossing to your bed, you remained standing, only turned away from the man. This behavior caused Aemond to clench his jaw, subduing his urge to correct such disobedience. 
“Will you not come to bed with me?” Aemond summoned you again. 
Once more you chuckled at him, not sparing him any sort of look from you. Just the cruel chuckle of your acknowledgment. 
“Your husband demands—”
“My husband demands me of nothing,” You interrupted him, “And he would do well to find another bed to sleep in or find himself in tonight.”
At your words, Aemond crossed toward you, attempting to snatch the half-drunk chalice of wine from your hands, “It seems you have overindulged yourself. It would do you well to sleep before—”
“Before what? Before I continue to act out of turn?” With a fierce determination, your fingers clutched down onto the chalice so that Aemond could not separate it from you. Your words dripped with poison, “Or before you return to Harrenhal and bed the whore witch?”
At the mention of Alys, both you and Aemond let go of the goblet at the same time and simply watched it fall to the ground, red liquid covering the tile floors. 
“It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know or understand.”
“I understand it quite plainly that my husband is now an adulterer, just like his eldest brother and his damned uncle. It seems that disloyalty to marriage is quite a common trait among Targaryen men.”
Quickly, Aemond’s hand came to your throat, gripping the flesh to show how serious he was being, yet not hard enough to asphyxiate you, “Did you not understand my words before, my stupid little wife? It would do you well not to speak of things you do not know…”
“Oh? But I do know…” Your hands grabbed at his forearms, nails sinking into the flesh so that he would release you, “And it would do you well to learn just how smart your wife is…”
“I have known… I have known about Alys since your first rampage through the Riverlands. For moons, I remained confined to the Red Keep from your orders, and when they came to deliver news of you and your victories, I cheered. I still cheered when the maids told me the rumors between you and Alys, because I was grateful to the Seven that you were alive. Because I was still foolish enough to love you far more than you deserve.”
Tears threatened to spill over, but you swallowed them back. You would not allow Aemond the pleasure of your tears, only the fire of your anger. 
“She promised me security for my life and the lives of my men,” Aemond attempted to justify himself, “I could not risk it—”
“You could have offered her gold, offered her a title, or anything else besides your body! Instead, you break your vows. And you did not stop there, because you continue to fly back to Harrenhal whenever you desire the witch’s cunt to the point where your son and daughter could not even recognize you if they ever saw you!” You huffed out, scanning his face for any sign of emotion, anything at all.
“You have allowed your lust to overcome you, disappointing your wife, your mother, and the Seven. Worst of all, you shall now have your own bastard. At least this bastard will not be raised of the Street of Silk as your brother’s bastards have.”
“How did you know?” Aemond’s voice cracked while he asked the question, “How do you know she is pregnant?”
A smirk played on your lips at the question, “It seems that the Master of Whispers is a very devoted friend of the Queen, and with the Queen being your mother, she deemed it important enough to share the news with me, your faithful wife.”
His face went pale at the realization of how many people were aware of his infidelity. While Aemond remained silent, you twisted the knife deeper into his chest. You had been tortured with this knowledge for so long that you now enjoyed the pained expression on his face.
“I have always been good to you, devoted to you. Where others cowered from you, I loved you. Despite the warnings of your blood lust and deformity, I loved you and gave you two perfect children who study just as diligently as you once did. So while you found yourself in the arms of another woman, I tried not to curse your name and assure our children that all was well, even if their father would not be present for them. But now, I look at you like a curse upon my life. You have allowed yourself to be corrupted outside our marriage, and I can no longer offer you salvation for your selfishness…”
“What would you have me do?”
You laughed mockingly at his question. Instead of providing a proper answer, you only glared further into his good eye.
“Please,” Aemond gritted his teeth, hating that he allowed himself to beg an answer from you, “Just tell me what I should do!”
“I can not simply tell you what to do. That would be to easy - what lesson would you have learned?” You shook your head and a shuddering breath escaped you.
“You have to make a choice, Aemond,” Your hand gripped his wrist, forcing him to remain attentive to your words, “Either you atone for the sin your committed and the hurt you’ve caused or you reside in Harrenhal for the rest of your days…”
“This is a choice only you can make — a wife or a witch?”
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*    *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
a/n: I am considering making a follow-up to this one-shot, a blurb about the outcome of the options that Aemond has... maybe...
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angelltheninth · 5 days
Text
Accidentally Drinking an Aphrodisiac and Aemond Helps You Out
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, aphrodisiac, rough sex, desperate sex, needing to come, dub-con, teasing, loss of virginity, gaslighting, sort of blackmail, creampie, mentioned future pregnancy
A/N: The trailer coming out when I'm on my period is not good cause that's when I'm at my most feral.
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The wine was very obviously spiced with something. As soon as you drank it your body started throbbing, heat, the uncomfortable yet familiar kind, spreading through your body and pooling between your legs. Aemond, your crush and current protector took notice of your plight. He took it upon himself to help you. To the public, who knew you were poisoned with something, it meant escorting you to your chambers and finding the culprit. To Armond it meant taking care of you, and taking your virginity in the process.
"This is... we should not be doing this. It feels wrong but... I need you, please, I need you." You begged and hugged him ever closer as he pushed his cock into you. Everything burned, every touch and every kiss, you were so dizzy, barely made it to the bed.
Aemond cooed into your ear, shushing you, "Princess, you must be quiet. Begging does not suit one such as you. Nor would a servant walking in and seeing you with your legs in the air for me." His comments, however truthful, made your face burn. "Opening your legs like so, your cunt eager to have a cock, it's so tight inside you. Have you been craving me all this time? I bet you have."
"Only in the past few months." Perhaps what you drank was also a truth serum because under normal circumstances you would have never confessed to this. "I always wanted to know what a cock feels like. But I only wanted your cock Aemond, no one else's. Is that selfish of me?"
"It is. It's alright, you're allowed to be selfish. You crave me, and I will give you all the pleasure you can take." Aemond's lips bush briefly against yours. "And I will make you mind, I will make your cunt remember what my cock feels like, may you never forget it." His hand pressed against your lower stomach, the added pressure along with the thrust made your eyes roll back, "Princess, if I come inside you, then you do know of course, that you have to marry me."
"M-Marry? My father already chose a-!" Your words died on your lips, replaced by loud moans as his cock pumped you full of seed. "You actually..."
"I did. I do not give a damn what your father decided, which sorry bastard he chose for you. You are mine, my Princess, you carry my seed, you gave your virginity to me, you will be my wife as well. Or... do you want everyone to know what a whore you actually are?"
You closed your legs almost instinctively, only for them to push him closer. "I am not." You narrowed your eyes at him.
"Of course now Princess. But your kingdom will see you as such, your family as well. Is that what you want? All because you were poisoned and couldn't keep your legs closed as a result? I do not want that for you. So I am offering again, will you be my wife?" He was looking out for you, that's all it was, Aemond always looked out for you didn't he?
"If you will have me then, I would be honored to be your wife." Something shone in his eye, brief but it was there before he kissed you again.
"Good. Then, shall we make sure we are fully compatible?" He rolled you on top of him, eliciting a gasp when you were fully sat on his cock, the cum pouring out and onto his stomach and the bed sheets. The night was spent in lustful abandon. Afterwards you were too tired to notice him putting his clothes back on, and the small glass bottle that he pocketed.
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drakoneve · 6 months
Text
A Dragon's Wrath
Request: hello hello, how are u? Idk if u write for Harwin Strong, but I'm obsessed with this man, so if you're not taking requests for him, forgive me for being rude. So I wanted to make a request where the reader is the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, also daughter of Aemma and Viserys. She married Strong, and lives a dream life with him (they love each other very much, so please, Rhaenyra's children are not his 🫠) and the legitimacy of their children was questioned, of course the queen would never imagine that Harwin had a birthmark, which none of his brothers inherited from Lyonel, he being the only one to have it and ALL THE CHILDREN OF HARWIN AND THE PRINCESS HAVE THAT SAME BRAND, JUST LIKE THE FATHER'S. Maybe I went on too long and was stupid, sorry, you can do whatever comes to your brilliant mind, I just really wish the legitimacy of the children of the OC was proved by legal means and gave no right to be questioned even by the queen. Thank you for your attention, I understand if you don't want to do it 🤍.
pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader
word count: 3k
warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey
a/n: first harwin fic, harwin girlies lmk what you think!! for the sake of this fic, Rhae's children have Targaryen silver hair
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In all the years the pair were married, King Viserys and Queen Aemma were blessed by the Mother with only two healthy, living babes. First born has been your elder sister Rhaenyra, whom you followed two years later.
Growing up the two of you remained close through your lessons and dragon riding, but as Rhaenyra grew older she would end up spending more and more time with her lady in waiting Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra and Alicent being two of the only other girls your age in the Red Keep and their refusal to have anyone join them in their activities, you felt somewhat dejected by your sister's budding friendship.
This is what led you to find solace in the Red Keep's training yards. Day after day you watched knights, and knights in training, battle it out in the yard while you worked on your studies. It was there in the yard you saw him for the first time- your future husband, Ser Harwin Strong.
At the time you had no idea you would end up marrying him, of course, but you should have.
You'd heard all about Ser Harwin Breakbones, son of Lyonel Strong, one of your father's most loyal council men. Harwin's reputation truly preceded him and was rightfully earned.
You hadn't noticed it at the time, but you'd abonded your books and parchments in the stands by your supervising Septa as you approached the rail separating the stands and the training yard in an attempt for a clearer view.
Harwin stood taller than his opponents, shoulders back, sword in hand ready to defend himself. He watched his opponents carefully, calculating their next move. His short brown curls were halfway pulled back out of his face with a tie, exposing Harwin's jawline, much to your own enjoyment.
That afternoon you watched Harwin take down man after man without so much as a proper blow to his own body. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his arm in fluid, rushing movements.
When he had finally finished for the evening you applauded him, finally grabbing his attention as he had held yours.
"You are quite the swordsman, Ser Harwin!" you call out to him. "I feel much better knowing there are knights as skilled as you protecting my home."
Harwin grinned largely at your praise, twirling his sword in his hand for show as he approached the rail you supported yourself on. "I mean only to ensure you are safe at all times, my princess."
You smiled down at him now that he was almost right below you. "Well I have no doubts of your capabilities, Ser. I have a feeling you will do great things here, should you wish."
"You are too kind, princess," he chuckles. Then he looks up at the sky, towards the sun on it's way to set. "It is getting quite late, princess. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?"
The excitement and hopefulness in his face brought butterflies to your stomach.
"I would like nothing more, Ser."
After that night it was scarce the two of you weren't side by side, which all but pushed your fathers to wed the two of you.
Now you stood in those same stands, watching Harwin in the yard yet again, but now he's joined by your two eldest sons. Maevor has just passed his tenth and second name day, and Daeragon his ninth. Your two youngest babes, however remained with you and your maid and close friend, Malina.
Malina had first been assigned to you after your marriage to Harwin, and she'd stood loyally by your side as you birthed all of your children.
Malina's elder brother Ellion, a knight of the City Watch, stood closeby on the order of Harwin. He'd been one of Harwin's best men as you'd heard him compliment the younger knight on many occasions in the past. Being a Targaryen princess and wife of the Lord Commander in such uncertain times in the house of the dragon could be dangerous, and Harwin meant only to protect you and your babes.
Your first daughter, eldest of your month old twins, Naelora cooed softly in your arms as she played with the loose sleeve ends of your dress. You indulged her for a moment, raising your arm to lift the sleeve from her reach to tease her.
She gurgles in laughter, stretching her chubby little arms to grasp your sleeve once more.
The moment is over by the approach of Queen Alicent's lady in waiting, Talya.
"My apologies, Princess," Talya bows to you first. "But the Queen has requested Malina's presence for this afternoon."
Why would the queen need Malina specifically? Surely she could find another maid within the Keep to aid her?
Malina looks to you, pale brown eyes silently asking to stay. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, of course. After giving birth to your second son Daeragon, Queen Alicent began requesting Malina's presence more often.
Still sore from your labors, Harwin had taken the day off to aid you and watch over Maevor to allow you to rest.
You watched happily from your spot on the bed as Harwin held little Daeragon, to introduce him to his elder brother. Maevor, a boy of three years, stood as high as he could on his toes to get a peek over Harwin's bulk of an arm to get a glimpse of his brother.
Then your chamber doors open and Malina returns to your side after serving the queen all day. She approaches the foot of your bed, hands clasped together in front of her with her eyes cast slightly downwards.
"Malina, you needn't worry about me," you begin to dismiss her kindly. "I'm sure the Queen-"
But Malina shakes her head, brown curls following her, still refusing to meet your gaze. "I need to speak with you, Princess. And you, Lord Harwin, in privacy."
You share a concerned look with Harwin, who's joyfulness has been replaced with worry. In the time she's served you Malina had never been afraid to look you in your eyes.
He wastes no time escorting Maevor to his chambers just off your own, and placing little Daeragon in his crib next to your side of the bed. Harwin returns and stands dutifully on the other side of you as if protecting you.
"What is it?" you ask, and pat the bed in front of you for Malina to sit.
Malina makes no move to sit on your bed. "My princess," her voice wavers nervously. "I have served your for near half a decade now, and I know you to be the most true and kind person I have ever had the pleasure of serving-"
"Malina," Harwin interrupts sternly. "Speak it plain, what have you heard of my wife?"
Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you instinctively reached for Harwin's hand. He intertwined his fingers with your in an attempt to comfort you.
Malina takes in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet your gaze. "Queen Alicent requested my presence after your labors today for questioning."
"Questioning?" you tilted your head slightly. "About what?"
"Your sons," she answered swiftly. "She... She wanted to know if this babe looked like Harwin or..."
Harwin pulled his hand from yours, placing it on the hilt of his sword. "Or who, Malina?"
"Ellion," Malina whispers. "The Queen seems to believe that you spend too much time with Ellion, princess. She asked if I knew of any relations between the two of you, but I swore to her you are deathly loyal and would never-"
You move from your spot on the bed to bring yourself to stand. Harwin aids you as you steady yourself, then reach for Malina's forearm.
"You needn't explain yourself to me, Malina," you assure her. "I know you to be true to me, and you are one of the kindest ladies I know. You should go, retire for the night. We shall do the same."
Malina apologizes the whole way out your chamber doors despite your assurances. Harwin begins to strip his armor as you settle yourself back into bed.
Daeragon's crib sat just off the side of your bed, close enough for you to have a view of the newborn's little face.
Harwin soon joins your side clad in his nightclothes. You can feel his gaze on you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Emotions ran rampant through you. You knew it must be the strain and high emotions of you and your new babe surviving the day, but you couldn't stop the rush.
It's when the tears begin to fall from your lilac eyes that Harwin wraps you up in his arms and pulls you back against him.
"My love," he cooes. "Sweet girl, do not worry yourself with the opinion of a misguided, jealous woman."
He raises his right hand to show off the inside of his right wrist, showing off the small, discolored patch of skin he inherited from his father, Lord Lyonel. A small, almost missable, seemingly insignificant patch of skin both Maevor and Daeragon had inherited.
Harwin leans in close, placing his lips against the shell of your ear. "We know I have fathered your sons, my love. Do not worry yourself with this, it is not worth it."
"You're right, husband," you hum, settling into your husband's arms for the night. "I'm just glad he's here, and healthy."
He kisses your temple softly. "You did that. You made him the healthy babe he is."
As you promised Harwin that night, you did your best to ignore the rumors pursued by Alicent. In the years following Daeragon's birth you'd heard more whispers within the court questioning your son's parentage, though you said nothing.
You tried your best to pay them no mind, other days they really got to you. But for now you simply obliged to the queen's wishes.
"Ser Ellion," you motioned your friend forward with one hand. He looked much like his sister as they shared the same nose, and brown curly hair, though Ellion's eyes were an elegant green. Still, no man in the Seven Kingdoms could come close to Harwin in your eyes.
"Would you mind taking my sweet Raemor from your sister? I'm afraid I cannot tend to both babes at once."
Ellion nods and leans down slightly to make a peaceful transition from his sister's arms. He wore an awkward grin on his face as he cradles the blanket wrapped babe the best he could in a full suit of armor. "It is an honor, Princess. Though I'm not certain he will be comfortable against such steel."
Malina bows and takes Talya's arm in her own. You know Malina's dislike for the woman, and you can only guess she's done this to ensure Talya is led away from you and your family.
You shake your head in response to Ellion yet keep your attention on your daughter in your arms. "It is no issue, Harwin holds them in his armor every day. He has with each of them."
A moment passes in silence and you look up to your husband and eldest children. Maevor's brown curls are just long enough on the top to be tied back while leaving some down thus his hair is relatively tame. Daeragon's, however, is tousled and absolutely untame.
Both boys are breathing heavier now, their cheeks flushed. But the beautiful, pure look of excitement on their faces melted your heart. They knew their father was Lord Commander of the City Watch, and that Harwin worked hard for his family at his very important job, and they treasured their father for it.
After taking them to see Harwin train with some of the new recruits of the City Watch two fortnights ago had been a mistake on your part for the boys had not shut up about training themselves. At first you had been hesitant, of course other Targaryen princes had been taught to fight years before your boys, but you were afraid of the things they might encounter so instead you encouraged them to spend time in the libraries and their respective dragons.
As a result the boys were extremely well read and years ahead of their pupils in their studies. Maevor is practically fluent in Valyrian now, and Daeg is not far behind.
Their insistent pleading had wore on you though, and you gave in to them with Harwin's reassurance he would personally oversee their training. In the end, Maevor and Daeg's immediate joy at being granted permission made it worth it in the end.
Harwin and the boys were cleaning their training gear and putting it away.
Ellion clears his throat, pulling your attention from your family. "I fear something is happening, Princess."
"What do you mean?" you ask, standing from your seat and brushing your skirts with one hand.
"I have been approached twice now," he explains carefully, watching who was sat in the immediate area. The closest people sat on the complete opposite of the training yard in those stands. "Once by a fellow knight, and then by Talya herself. I only mention this as a warning, Princess."
Harwin and the boys are nearly there and you don't want the boys to hear such slander.
"Thank you, Ellion," you force a smile to give him. "And I apologize for what has been whispered around court these last years, but I plan now to make it right."
Harwin approaches you then, slinking one arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Come, my love, the boys need to bathe and our littlest ones must be ready for their nap."
Maevor perks up, "Mother, may I carry Naelora back to your chambers?"
Your hearts melts at the question, Maevor ever the doting older brother. You grant your son permission, gently reminding him to hold her head carefully.
"And I shall take Raemor from you, Ellion. I thank you for your services for today."
He bows respectfully, "Tis my duty, and an honor."
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Once the twins are down for their naps and the older boys off to the bathhouse with Malina you informed Harwin of everything that had transpired this afternoon while he trained with the boys.
His thick brows furrowed almost immediately, angre written upon his face. Harwin had shed his armor by now, settling for more comfortable leathers for the evening. His sword however, stayed attached to his hip with one hand gripping the hilt.
"I am sick of hearing your name and reputation tarnished by fools!" Harwin seethes, angrier than you've ever seen him. "I have half a mind to slay them all down for even thinking such things of our children, of you."
You shake your head softly, approaching him to cup his face. You press your forehead against his own, something you've always done to comfort him.
"I have a plan, my dutiful husband," you assure him. "I happen to have a wonderful relationship with my father by law, if you must know. And I just so happen to know that a Small Council meeting starts in mere minutes."
Harwin eases a little, but now he's wrought with confusion.
"What have you planned, my love?"
You smile mischievously and press a sweet kiss to your husband's lips. "Just you wait husband, I first require our Maevor."
The boys are back from their baths by now as you can hear them bustling about Daeragon's chambers, which is the adjoining room to your own.
You knock before you enter as you always do, to the sight of your boys on Daeg's bed, books sprawled open before them.
"What have we there, byka zaldrīzoti (little dragons)?" you ask as you join them on the bed.
Daeg pulls the leather bound book to cover his lap to show you. "The Histories of Old Valyria!" he chimes. "Maevor was reading it to me in Valyrian."
You stroke Daeg's plush cheek with one hand, still able to see the babe he used to be in his face, and take Maevor's hand in your other.
"He's smart, your brother," you 'whisper' to Daeragon. "I would study hard, my Prince."
Maevor breaks his hand away to rustle his brother's brown curls. "Muña's teasing, Daeg. You are smarter now than I was your age."
You swoon, heart melting at the relationship between your boys. "Oh my sweet Maev," you kiss his temple. "Might I borrow you for a awhile, I have something important to discuss with the Small Council and I need your help."
Maevor's brown eyes widened slightly, "Of course, mother."
"Have no fear, sweet boy, I have a plan."
And you sure did. Once you explained what you could to Maevor while sparing his innocence best you could, he'd been more than willing to join you.
You squatted down to be closer to your son's level, Harwin by your side. "You are special, Maevor," you explain to him. You grab Harwin's right hand and Maevor's to put them side by side. Both birthmarks were near identical save for Harwin's being larger and slightly darker than his son's. "Each of my babes have this mark, all from Harwin, who inherited it from your grandsire, Lyonel. Do you understand?"
He nods, but says nothing. Harwin crouches down next to you, reaching to cup his eldest son's face.
"I wish we did not have to burden you with such a task, my boy," Harwin admits grimly. "I want you to know we are only doing this because we love you children, and I love your muña too much to let people speak of her in such a way any longer."
So the three of you set off, accompanied by Ellion as Malina had stayed behind to watch the twins and Daeragon.
Despite the Kingsguard outside the meeting room of the Small Council, you march right past them and push the doors open yourself.
Each member of the council turns to you now silenced. Otto sat up straighter in his seat as he looked towards his daughter. Alicent looked shocked to see the group of you, and you noted her visible nervousness.
Lyonel stands and comes to Harwin's side, demanding answers most likely. Harwin begins whispering in his father's ear, explaining the situation.
"Sister," Rhaenyra stands, hand placed over her round stomach. "What is wrong?"
You cross your arms over your chest, eyes blazing as you glare at the Hightowers at the table. "Since the birth of my Daeragon I have endured vile slanders against not only myself, but my marriage, and every one of my children."
Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.
"Princess," Otto pokes in. "I can assure you-"
"Assure what?" you snap, slamming down on the table to lean towards the Hand. "Alicent has been the one to pull my ladies from me just after giving birth to insinuate my babes have been fathered by knight of the City Watch who is not my husband. Even now, a month after having my twins, I am approached with more blasphemy. No more."
You usher Maevor forward, who happily extends his right arm before you have to ask. Harwin joins you, followed by Lyonel, both of whom put out their wrists as well.
Alicent's mouth widens in shock before she grits her teeth. Even Larys' wears a look of shock as he checks his own wrists, coming up with nothing.
"I am tired of my children being put under scrutiny," you say finally. "And of my loyalty to my husband being questioned. Now, if you all do not mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of the day with my family undisturbed."
You step back from the table to leave when Rhaenyra wraps you up in a hug. "I am so sorry, sister," she whispers.
You assure her with a simple kiss to the side of her head before reaching for Maevor's hand.
The boy is practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you make your way back to your chambers, both Harwin and Ellion following close behind.
"She is very scary, your wife," Ellion admits to Harwin lowly. "I would to want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."
He only chuckles, "No, nor would I."
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targaryen-dynasty · 8 months
Text
MINE.
Maegor Targaryen x niece!Reader
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WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; NON/DUB-CON, rough oral sex (face fucking), degrading, humiliating, size kink, size difference, corruption kink, possessiveness, jealousy, female Reader
WORDS: 1.3 K
NOTES: This is written for my Maegor hoes @borikenlove and @fairysluna. No plot, just porn.
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You shouldn’t have done it. You shouldn’t have taken Lord Westerling’s hand to dance with him–not when your uncle Maegor was sitting at the same table on the dais, having the perfect view of the designated dance floor in the center of the Throne Room. 
That he was protective–and possessive–of you wasn’t a secret to anyone, much to your father’s dismay, but the King was far too weak to stand a chance against his half-brother anyways.
It was surprising that Maegor hadn’t drawn his sword right away to cut off his head, but what surprised you more was that he simply left the feast without so much sparing you another glance. 
Until you came back to your chambers to spot him sitting on your bed, bulky frame barely illuminated by the soft glow of the candles around him. 
And that was the moment it truly settled what you had done. 
He was calm, a bit too calm for your liking, whereas you were fuming. His stance was smug, matching the smirk on his lips that only seemed to grow wider when he noticed the anger blazing in your eyes. 
You were the smallest and the youngest one of your siblings, and while Maegor sat on the bed, you were barely taller than him, lilac eyes meeting without him having to crane his neck. 
“When do you understand that I do not belong to you, uncle?” You balled your hands to fists at your sides, the knuckles turning white from the force you used. It was a desperate attempt to try to have Maegor take you seriously and erase the smug smirk off his face, but it did not work, a frustrated sigh falling past your lips.
All you wanted was for him to either claim you openly as his wife or leave you alone for good. 
His facial expression changed ever so subtly, it was barely noticeable to anyone that didn’t know him as good as you did, and when he moved to stand up, you knew your attitude had overstepped his limits. He was angry, and gone were your chances of finally getting what you’d craved for so long. 
His jaw was tense, and you were certain his teeth had to give in at any given moment from how tightly he clenched it. 
There was no gap between your bodies, his bull-like frame taking up most of the space, and when he entangled his paw in your silver tresses to yank your head back roughly, you were forced to look up at him. 
Your insides quivered with his tall frame looming over yours, fury blazing in the pool of lilac you always got lost in. 
“Listen, you insolent brat,” his voice dropped a few octaves lower, his hot breath ghosting over your flushed face. It seemed fucked up to you that, despite his threatening and intimidating behavior, Maegor still looked like he had been forged by the Seven themselves, his posture radiating nothing else than sheer confidence and dominance. 
“You are mine, if you like it or not,” he snarled, “and you will be mine forever.” There was not an ounce of smugness or amusement in the baritone of his voice, the sharpness of it causing goosebumps to prickle on your pale skin. 
You hadn’t even realized that Maegor had backed you up against the wall, herding you to where he wanted you, only noticing when you tried to take a step back to get out of his suffocating proximity, and bumped against a chest of drawers. 
“On your knees. Now .“ It wasn’t a question, it was a command that wasn’t up to debate. Nothing could arouse Maegor Targaryen more than watching his niece obediently sink to her knees in front of him. He simply enjoyed seeing you completely at his mercy, watching you push and bend your own limits to satisfy him. You were a pawn to him, only good to fulfill his darkest desires. 
Maegor wrapped the long tresses of your mane around the palm of your hand, pulling even the thinnest of strands back to not allow anything to conceal your innocent features. 
Your fingers were trembling, and you had trouble undoing the laces in the front of his breeches, especially once you noticed how persistent his hard member pressed against its confines already. 
Tugging his breeches and underclothes down enough to merely free his cock and stones, you gasped as it hoisted upwards and stood to full attention. Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him, and you could swear you already felt tears brimming in them by just thinking about the familiar stretch in the back of your throat that came with pleasuring him. 
“Don’t act so coy now,” he barked, and urged your head towards his cock. You nodded meekly, hesitantly fisting the base of him to kittenlick your way over the vein on the underside of his member up to the tip. 
As you wrapped your lips around the bulbous tip, Maegor wasted no time and not-so-gently bucked his hips to meet the back of your throat in one, swift thrust. His other paw cupped your chin with his digits digging into your cheeks, forcing you to hollow your cheeks and keep your mouth open so you were able to take him deep enough for your nose to nuzzle against his lower stomach. 
“Mhhm,“ the content hum filled your ears. Maegor was practically purring, and you felt your arousal slowly dripping down your legs, “you take my cock so well, niece.” 
The twitching of his cock indicated that he was reveling in the sputtering and choking noises you made as you remembered just how big he was, his cock definitely matching his body, and your gag reflex hadn’t been tested this hard before. 
Maegor was in a generous mood as he allowed you to pull back enough to draw some air again, filling your lungs before sinking back down on him. 
Your small hand wrapped around his cock to stroke him in rhythm with your mouth, pleasuring the rest of him that didn’t fit inside without being uncomfortable. Your other hand started to fondle the sack of his stones, and you were far too tempted to pull back and lick them instead. 
You were stopping before your nose could nuzzle against his lower stomach again, flickering your lilac eyes up to meet his dark blown ones. “I know you can take me deeper than that, niece,“ he encouraged in a stern manner, and a firm palm on the back of your head was quick to nudge you further, “that’s it, just like that.“
But just like always, you weren’t fast enough for him, his impatience getting the worst of him. 
Maegor used the grip on your hair to pull your head back and shove it right down his throbbing length again, bucking his hips into your mouth to meet the back of your throat halfway. Your jaw ached ever since you wrapped your lips around him, and tears pricked in the corners of your eyes, brimming quickly. Your vision of Maegor’s smug smirk faded to a blur of silver hair and rippling muscles. 
With a particularly harsh thrust of him, the tears bursted and ran down your flushed cheeks, causing embarrassment to burn through your veins. Maegor groaned as he watched the trails of your tears coursing down your pale skin, running down to the low cut neckline of your gown. 
“Look at you,” he groaned, thrusting frantically into your mouth, “you look so ravishing when you’re choking on my cock.” And since his voice sounded much more strained than before, you knew he was on the verge of his peak. 
With his tight grip on your face and hair, you had no choice than to choke helplessly around his girth, surrendering to his strength until he grasped your hair between his fingers and yanked your head back and off of him. 
A string of your saliva connected his cock to your swollen lips, and you looked up at him with blurry eyes and an aching for more that had settled at the apex of your legs. 
“On the bed,” he commanded. “I will not spend my seed down that useless throat of yours.”
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spaceycowboys · 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. 
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
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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.”
                                                        εїз
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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