#strong!reader

[achaoticeternal]

Could you please write a fic where Rhaenyra’s strongdaughter gets into an argument with her mother because her mother won’t let her marry Aemond and she calls her mother a hypocrite for calling Aemond unfit to be a husband when her own husband got exiled twice. (Please also write Daemon reacting to it)

I looooove this idea! To me, it would be such a funny argument and of course, Daemon couldn't take it seriously - its just so lol enjoy this little blurb!

submit your own blurb/ headcanon requests HERE! read part two of this blurb HERE!

Targaryen Traditions

AEMOND TARGARYEN x VELARYON(STRONG)! READER word count: 900 - blurb summary: read request a/n: should I do a little continuation?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rhaenyra moved gracefully down the halls of Dragonstone, despite the unamused look that graced her face. It had barely been a full day since the daily had returned from an eventful visit in King’s Landing. Despite the typical quarrels, it now seemed her own daughter had been bewitched by one of her half-siblings… Prince Aemond Targaryen…

“Mother, I don’t understand!” You whined, following her into the great foyer of Dragonstone. 

“You will understand in time that I am right,” Rhaenyra spoke simply while crossing toward the fireplace, a hand over her belly.

“I wish to understand now because this makes no sense to me!” You quickly rebutted, “A year ago, you suggested to the Queen that I be betrothed to Aegon, who has since married Helaena. Now Aemond wishes for my hand and you deny me marrying a prince.”

“The point was never to have you simply marry a prince. If I wanted to see you married off to a man that holds such a title, I could have sent you to Dorne or Essos. To marry Aegon would have done a great many things, but most importantly keep you close to me,” Rhaenyra gazed toward you with motherly affection, “However, it seems Alicent only cares for Targaryen tradition when it serves her needs. You will not marry a second son.”

Daemon soon entered, freshly clean from the travels of the previous days. Though you respected and even somewhat cared for your stepfather, he did not replace the man that you first called father, Ser Laenor. When he entered, both you and your mother turned to him, silently begging that he pick a side. It was wishful thinking on your part since Daemon was not over fond of his nephew. Seemed to be a recurring theme…

The Rogue Prince had a smirk playing on his lips. Rhaenyra’s words were not lost on him, and even caused a chuckle from the man, “What is wrong with second sons?”

At such playful teasing, Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at the antics of her husband, “Nothing, husband. Except my daughter wishes to marry the Queen’s spiteful, second son.”

“Aemond?” He asked as he approached the princess. She nodded to his question, and then his gaze turned to you, “Aemond?”

Eagerly, you nodded. The thought crossed your mind of possibly being able to convince Daemon that your betrothal should be set with Aemond so that he could push Rhaenyra to be more willing to the idea. 

“You wish to marry to One-Eye prince?”

Of course, Daemon would tease you with such a question. As if your brothers had yet to torment you over the idea. Neither Jacaerys nor Lucerys liked the proposed betrothal between their uncle and sister. 

“It would be fulfilling my duty to the family and the realm,” You began to explain, “Jace shall sit on the throne one day, and I will be his heir until Baela gives him a child.”

Rhaenyra’s face soured at your words. She did not like how your education fueled your argument but was also proud of seeing such diplomacy from her daughter. The double-edged sword that all mothers must face with their children.

When she did not speak, you began again, “If I marry Aemond, I will also live in the Keep. I can assist Alicent and the maesters in taking care of my grandsire. You and Daemon always voice your concern for the King, so it might put you at ease.”

“You are a princess, not a caretaker—”

“Says who? You?” You were sharp with your tongue, growing tired of playing this game with your mother, “You say a princess is not a caretaker, yet you are a mother. You say I should not marry a second son, yet you did…”

“My dear, the circumstances are different,” Rhaenyra’s voice grew more stern at your pointed argument, “Aemond is your uncle!”

At such a comment, a boisterous laugh escaped your lips. It was quite out of fashion, but you could not keep it together. You looked back to your mother with a look of disbelief, gazing between Rhaenyra and Daemon, “Have you looked in a mirror recently?”

Confused by your statement, Rhenyra looked to Daemon. He chuckled while taking her hand within his own, intertwining their fingers, “I believe she means to call you a hypocrite.”

Rhaenya pursed her lips, looking at her husband than her daughter. Her eyes glanced over your frame, taking in all the likeness you shared. She then thought about how she acted at your age… She had married Laenor when she was just a year younger than you are now. But she would resent seeing you leave Dragonstone, no matter who the man was. 

“I’m flying to King’s Landing in two days' time on dragon back due to a previous agreement. You shall join me… and I will consider the proposition of a marriage to Aemond,” Rhaenyra spoke with a sigh.

A great smile spread across your face, elated that she would now at least consider Aemond as a suitor, “Thank you, mother! Thank you, thank you!”

“But I do not wish to hear any more of this or anything related to Aemond before our departure. Am I clear?”

“Yes, of course, mother,” You replied with a light giggle.

With a slight nod of her head, Rhaenyra dismissed you to do as you pleased. Relief washed over both of you. With quick steps, you took your leave to write a scroll to Aemond of your small successes.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

should I continue this/ make a part two?

[fan-goddess]

A Mutual Feeling Of Hate

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Strong!reader

Summary: As Aemond Targaryen rounds up the male Strongs, he realises one man is missing, and in his hunt for him, he finds you…

Warnings: Explicit talk, p in v smut, breeding kink, murder, talk of SA, oral f receiving, praise in Valyrian, riding, sadism and masochism, jealously sex, exhibitionism, marking, let me know if I’ve missed anything

Taglist: @valeskafics, @arcielee, @blue-serendipity,

Authors note: I’m not as happy as I’d like to be, but still here we go hope you guys like it. It was my first time writing on Google docs 😅

Harrenhal had never truly been your home. Throughout the years you were forced to live there, in your eyes it had always been your husbands. Although according to him and, in the more recent years to come it would soon become the home of yours and his children too..

Your husband, Geralt Strong, had been merely a second son when the two of you first married. Yet after the tragedies that struck Lord Lyonel Strong and his eldest son and heir Harwin, it soon hit you that your husband was only an accident away from being appointed the supposed honour of representing his house as its Lord. However, you were not the only one who noticed this predicament, as soon after Larys was appointed with no wife or children of his own, your husband decreed it was time for you to fulfil your wifely duties, and provide him with heirs of his own.

He’d been drunk every time that he tried to force himself onto you, but apparently he was too weak-souled to do it while sober. The man would become so incapacitated, that he’d pass out from overindulgence before he could even properly get off his breeches. For the first time in your life, you were grateful to be married to such a weak minded man.

Although, to play your role in the supposedly ever so slowly closing in win of his succession, you would force yourself to finish taking off his breaches, and stroke him till he burst in your hand, to make it seem like he’d actually completed his part. When he eventually spilled, you would always feel disgusted, wanting nothing more than to wash it all off and clean your whole body of his filth, and yet you found a strange joy  in it. Thinking that whenever you were forced to lick the salty taste off of your hands, you were practically eating his children, and his legacy from your very hands. In a strange way, you found honour as you played one of the gods…

Still, when your husband was not drunk, and managed to have his way with you, you still requested moon tea. A wet nurse that you surprisingly found yourself becoming close confidants with named Alys, would somehow always come to you whenever you need it, a small vial in her hand in preparation.

However, when the banners of war were officially brought out of hiding, and calls for soldiers and blood broke out amongst the land, your husband became much too preoccupied by the impending doom of Harrenhal to bother you. You can remember clearly in your mind the day Daemon and his men came for you all. It was something everyone present would remember. Ser Simon, the man who led House Strong while Larys was in kings Landing, was not a man in your eyes that day, as he surrendered easily during the assault of Daemon's attack. It was not difficult to spot Daemon Targaryen amongst the many of his men from your window, the colouring of his hair making him stand out when his helmet was shrugged off, and the wish that your husband could’ve been more like him stood out to you whenever you saw the man. You could not help but feel envious of the usurped queen whenever you saw him standing valiantly and without fear.

That however, was why It was strange, when the prince and all of his men left all of sudden in the night. All pondered over the reason, but then came the sound of a dragon's wings, and the distinctive noise of a dragon's roar, the sound of it echoed and vibrated through the air. It was not Daemon coming back, no. It was the colour green of their banners that told you who they were, and what this meant for you. It was time for you to shed yourself of that ‘Strong’ husband of yours.

Your husband in question has pushed past you to look on in horror as the men in green and gold marched closer. And while he was gawking down below at the sight, you yourself took hold of the intricately carved dagger that was gifted to you by your mother. There was no real need for you to be quiet, as Geralt's eyes remained solely on the now revealed Targaryen below, and when you stood behind Geralt silent to also get a glimpse of the sight, you were most definitely not disappointed.

It was not hard to decipher that it was Aemond Targaryen who stood there, and demanded that a sword be given to Simon Strong. The eyepatch that hung over his disfigured left eye made it easy to realise which Targaryen stood there. He uttered something to the trembling man, but sadly you were unable to hear what it was he spoke.

You were surprised though, when Simon Strong it seemed had finally grown a backbone, as he fought the prince in what was seemingly a trial by combat. However, it seemed he grew it too early, as the sound of clashing of swords was soon over, and instead the sound of a dragon's cry echoed soon after. It wasn’t until you heard the screams till you realised that the prince had fed the mangled corpse of the man to his dragon Vhagar. He made the man, who to you was undeserving of his own blood, into something as meaningless to his dragon as a common sheep. If you weren’t occupied with standing a few paces back from Geralt ready to strike him down, you most likely would’ve gone down to the prince and given him your utter devotion and loyalty, if he didnt make you into food for his dragon too that is.

The voice of Aemond Targaryen rings again, as you yourself twirl the dagger in your hand in preparation, and it booms loud enough for all to hear throughout the castle. “Bring me the rest of the men who possess the blood of House Strong!” You cannot help but feel excited at the tone the prince holds. Madness, and a type of pure unrelenting rage. It’s not hard to tell what the intention of his demand is, even the dumbest of men would be able figure out what he wants to do.

You almost miss your opportunity as you get swept up in your own excitement. Still, you make a noise similar to a yelp in an attempt to draw Geralt's attention from the spectacle below, and when he responds just how you had planned for him to act, with his body and neck turning swiftly to you in sudden alarm, you waste no time in plunging the dagger deep into the flesh of Geralt's neck. You can feel the warm specks of his blood as it splatters onto your face as you withdraw the blade, and as he staggers towards you while clutching the profusely bleeding wound in a poor attempt to stop it, you cannot help but find yourself smiling at the utterly pathetic sight. Thanks to the one-eyed prince and his hatred, there will be no more ‘Strong’ men left to stand in your way to freedom, and no so called ‘respected’ witnesses to your crime.

There’s a small series of grunts that manage to make their way from your husband's blood gargling throat. Although, soon his stumbles become too weak, and he collapses onto the hard stone floor. His movements are weak, as he seems to use all of his energy so he could look up and stare up at you. If you were honest with yourself, the sight before you feels like the greatest honour you could ever think of, to watch the life leaving Geralt's eyes. You feel like you are playing one of the Gods, because thanks to you, they are now forever immortalised with a permanent look of confusion and betrayal.

It hits you though, a thought of realisation that makes your very spine shiver in annoyance. The thought being, that there is no doubt about it, that the prince already has a list of names of those that he needs to kill in his rampage, in order to properly eradicate the house Strong once and for all. If he didn’t… Well then, the prince is more of an idiot than you took him for. Your husband was the man set to inherit everything if and when Larys Strong is to pass. So there is no doubt in your mind that he’ll be one that the prince will wish to make sure is dead at his feet.

There is a sudden knock at the door that drives you away from your thoughts, and you just know that it is the prince's men who have come to fulfil their orders. You take a moment to prepare yourself to play the role of the already mourning wife. The tears you feel drop from your eyes are fake, and yet as you open the door a fraction, the men who look at you see no difference. They’re young, only a couple name days older than you, and you thank the gods because of it, as with their inexperience they will be unable to decipher your tricks. In their eyes, you have already seen the taking of your husband, and by the blood on your face, he was taken not so long ago with some force.

They say no real words to you, other than a small grunt you presume is a type of apology, and leave you to your supposed mourning of your husband in solitude. Though as soon as you shut the door, you grab a chair and manoeuvre it to the window to watch the show below go on.

The sight of the one eyed prince successfully slaying an entire house brings a small smile to your face. He makes the man or boy say their name, and what makes them a Strong. The first to be slaughtered was Ser Simon, and soon after it was clear to all that not even the unclear bastards, with blood muddled and unknown origin, were even safe. None were spared from the Kinslayers blade.

From the balcony soon after the full-blooded men were slaughtered, you watched the beheading of an eleven name day old child. From your understanding of Harrenhal, the only reason that boy was here was because his mother was forced upon by the wrong man, and he refused to allow her the opportunity to rid herself of the child. It’s a sad sight, even you must admit, but there is truly nothing you can do other than let the show below go on.

It’s not long until the pile of corpses stops being enlarged, as the prince's men are forced to halt in their duty in bringing the men. The sounds of bloodshed are soon broken by the many sounds of high pitched women crying for their loves and their families. When you turn your head to look back at your own husband, still laying there in his own blood and filth, you can’t help but let out a scuff of disgust and disbelief, before turning back to continue to watch the prince.

You cannot help but ponder when it’ll happen. What will happen when the prince will eventually realise that no man has come forward to be slaughtered bearing the name of your husbands. Though it appears as soon as you begin to question it, the prince questions it too. “WHERE IS THE MAN THEY CALL GERALT STRONG?” He shouts. His voice somehow managed to echo over the sounds of the crying wives and daughters that resonated from their windows.

One guard steps forward, possibly one of the two who had visited your chambers earlier, but he’s too far to tell or not. He leans to whisper something into the prince's ear, and when the guard leans away, the prince looks somewhere in your direction. You can almost swear that you lock eyes with him, though he soon quickly looks away, before whispering some words to a knight, and beginning to walk towards the part of Harrenhal you reside in.

He disappears from your line of sight, and you begin to wonder if he’ll be searching all the rooms for Geralt. Though once again, It’s not long before you hear the sound of your chamber door being opened, with a loud creak of the handle. There is a sound of footsteps, although they seem to halt quickly. If you had to guess, they must have spotted the corpse. When you turn your head slightly, your eyes once more meet the single lilac eye of the princes. Although he does not make the contact last long as he breaks it to stare at the pitiful view of Ser Geralt Strong, still laying there in the pool of his own blood.

His face gives no indication of any particular emotion other than annoyance. Though you can’t help but notice an unfamiliar glint in his eyes as he looks back at you. “I thought I had ordered my men to bring me every living male strong.” It is not a question, as there is not a single inch of confusion in his tone. This was a statement.

“I know…” It's a strange feeling that resonates within you the longer the prince looks at you. One that makes your entire body strangely burn in a pleasurable sense. Not that you’d ever know what that would even feel like… “Your men followed their orders as they were told, my prince. As he was not alive before your men rounded them all to be apart of your genocide.”

You see that glint once more in his eye. It looks almost similar to admiration?

“I presume you are Geralt Strong's lady wife. Did you truly hate the man that much for you to risk your safety to kill him?” Again, this was not a real question. This was another statement and a demand directed for you. From the look in his eye, he already knew the answer.

“You are correct.” You say no more, and you don’t even need to, as the now dried blood that is still present on your face, slightly sticky to the touch you figured, and your eyes that have managed to remain bone dry with a matching expressionless face. They seem to say more than you ever could. Plus if anything, it seems the prince is the more emotional one in the room between the two of you. His own face holds in its possession a small smile, which looks much more akin to a prideful smirk, while your own is hellbent in an attempt to stay blank.

The two of you stay silent, him standing there not taking his eye of you, while you yourself continue to sit in your chair unmoving. It was strangely peaceful, until the prince began to walk towards you and took your throat in his hand, holding it firmly to not allow you head to move, but not too hard that you couldn’t breath.

“I suppose I must thank you…” He seems to muse, taking in your face as he presents it to himself. “Although-” He cuts himself off, peering down at your stomach with an almost pondering look. “How do I not know that you are currently hiding a Strong inside of your womb from me at this very moment?”

“Because I drink moon tea of course, my prince. Why would I wish to potentially burden my future children with the tainted blood that ran through my husband's veins, when there are hundreds of men throughout the seven kingdoms who easily possess blood ten times purer than his ever did?”

“And who are these men then my lady? Could you name a few so I may have an idea of your idea of pure blood?” He’s playing with you. Testing you even. And yet you must admit that it’s honestly the most fun you’ve had in Harrenhal the entire time you’ve been held practically as a captive there.

“Well there’s your brother of course, the king of the seven kingdoms…” The trail was unintentional, but you couldn’t help but let the next words die on your tongue just so you could admire the thundering glare on the prince's face at the mention of the king. You had heard about the disputes between the two, but you had no idea that this supposed brotherly hate ran so deep between them.

“Tell me who else,” He growls. The sound of it mixed with the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck sending the pure feeling of electricity straight to your already wet core.

“Why there’s many men, my prince! It wasn't like it was hard to possess purer blood than that of a Strong! There’s Dalton Greyjoy… Cregan Stark… Joffrey Arryn… I would even count your own Uncle Daemon to be possessing purer blood than my husband. He is probably one of the few men I would allow to give me my pure children…” With each man you list, the prince's face darkens more and more. You intended to play with the prince at first by making sure to name the men who appeared to side with his half-sister in regards to the throne. Similarly to how he had been teasing you moments ago. However, it seems you played too close to the flames. As when the name of his uncle, and now the name of a man seen as a sworn enemy of the crown, is mentioned from your lips, the prince pulls your face towards his own by the grip on your neck, and claims you with a fiery kiss. The warmth of him spread throughout you, and It truly at that moment felt like you were playing with a true dragon…

“What about me, sweet girl? Am I of purer blood than that of your dead tainted husbands? Am I worthy enough to overflow your womb with my seed and show the kingdoms of how worthy I am?” His whispers make your whole body burn up, as if the blood of the dragon was running through your veins.

“I cannot say my prince… I think you’ll have to show me if you truly think you are worthy enough…” It is the feral-like sound from which the prince releases from deep within, that reminds you once more who it is who is about to claim both you and your body. A dragon. That is what stands before you, and is ready to claim you and change your life forever.

The feeling of the prince's body forcibly overpowering your own as he drags you from the chair you were previously on to the bed, brings a feeling throughout you that Geralt could never have ever achieved.

“Present yourself fully to your prince.” The words drip with lust and desire, as he does not even wait for you to properly respond. Instead, he just tears the weak material straight from your body, leaving you left in only your small clothes before him. His single eye roams over your body greedily to take all of your nude self in. However, you can see it stop at the sight of your heaving chest, your shallow breaths leaving your chest to stutter slightly.

“Gevie…” He mutters before taking a hardened nipple in his mouth and sucking hard, no doubt forcing deep coloured marks to form soon after this is over. His mouth wanders even lower though, sucking and biting gently in his wake, before stopping at the skin of your inner thighs, biting softly at the flesh. The sensations make small whines to leave your mouth whenever his teeth seemingly went deep enough to leave indents of his teeth.

The prince does not appear to be in a hurry. As instead of acting like a true dragon would and just taking you, he just stares at the fabric concealing your dripping core from him with a hooded eye. He does not even attempt to move it, as a lone hand of his simply brushes over the fabric lightly. Your head tilts back at the pleasure, so you are unable to see him grinning proudly at the sound of your whines for him when he does this again, and again. Maybe this is your punishment for mentioning his traitorous uncle? Or maybe he is just simply teasing you again…

“Please my prince… show me how I deserve to be blessed with your seed…” You whine, the words must have driven some part of him, as the next thing you know, your smallclothes are being torn off you like the rest of your clothes, and a warm wet tongue is feasting on your cunt giving you the best pleasure you’ve felt in your whole life.

“Oh fuck!” You shout. There is no real need to be quiet, as who is there to hear you? While you yourself are moaning loud enough for the seven to hear, you almost miss the sounds of the prince's own groans, seemingly already addicted to the taste of your arousal that all but leaks from your quivering body onto his awaiting and eager tongue.

“Ao sylutegon se sȳrje … kesan brōzagon ao ñuha mērī ābra sir till se mōris…” He groans into the depth of your cunt, the vibrations adding that extra arousal needed to begin your push over the edge. The words themselves mean nothing to you, and you find that you don’t really care, as you feel the coil deep within you begin to tighten more and more. “Please my prince let me cum!” You shout, “Please my prince!” You try to stop yourself from releasing, you really do, but at the sight of the prince's head seemingly nodding in allowance, you feel yourself releasing on the prince's talented tongue harshly, leaving you breathless and lightheaded.

While you attempt to try and recover from your peak, you can still feel his tongue inside of you, the wet sounds reaching your ears. He acts as if he was trying to claim and taste the last remnants of your peak and arousal, before he no doubt soon rips another from your quivering body.

As the prince lifts his body up to take off his own clothing, you get the glimpse of his arousal covered face. In the current light, you can see his mouth and his chin shining, and it spreads an entire new feeling of arousal within you you didn’t even know was possible. It only worsens though, as you watch him collect some of your juices from his chin with his finger, before sucking on it with an appreciative sound as the taste glides over his tongue.

“Do not call me your prince, call me by my name. Call me Aemond.” He mutters, before he silences your response as he bends to your level to claim your lips with his own.

It’s the combined taste of your arousal on his lips, and the feeling of his erect cock touching the skin of your inner leg, that makes a pathetic whine leave your lips. You almost release another, when the prince, no Aemond, backs away for a moment to look at you with a hooded expression. He truly looks like a dragon about to devour you…

The prince's hands trail over your sweat layered skin with the kind savagery only seen belonging to a man in war. Because by technicality, he is. Aemond Targaryen has no idea when he will die in this Targaryen bloodshed, so he makes sure that he acts on his desires and takes all that you will give to him with great pleasure.

He pumps his cock a few times, to which you watch with eager eyes at the sight of beads of his pleasure coming from the tip of his cock. Much to your surprise and gratitude though, he inserts himself slowly inside of you, and the mixed sounds of his and yours groans of pleasure echo in the room, mixing as one.

Soon, the feeling of the prince's careful and precise thrusts whilst pleasurable, becomes not enough for you. Your legs hook around the prince's waist, and you take Aemond by surprise as you turn the two of you over and take no time in beginning to bounce harshly on his cock.

The deep groans that the prince lets out at the new position are easily one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “Qogralbar… Konir sagon ziry… sȳz līve gūrogon aōha pleasure hen aōha dārilaros…” Again, the strange words' ,most likely to be that of Valyrian, are lost on you. But the way they sound coming from his tongue specifically, spark something almost primal deep inside. The grip that Aemond has on the skin of your thighs, will no doubt leave harsh and deep coloured bruises, and yet when you feel the sparks of pain from his actions, equally arousing sparks of pleasure get sent all the way up your spine.

Your hands grasp at Aemonds skin for some kind of stability, and your nails dig into his skin so harshly as you try to ground yourself, that you can see small droplets of blood beginning to mark the surrounding flesh. The very sight of it though does not deter you, and if anything it makes you harsher in your efforts for another peak to wash over you.

Although, Aemond surprises you by gripping at your hips and beginning to harshly thrust himself upwards into your wet heat. His cock reached the rough patch deep inside of you that you never knew existed. You were so invested in this new pleasure though, that you had no idea that at this development you had begun to practically shout your pleasures loudly and clearly into the room.

As his cock head bullies that spot inside you, one of his hands reaches to take hold of your neck similarly to earlier. But the grip he holds you now is harsher and less careful, and it makes you breathless. “Oh fuck…” You murmur as your head begins to fill with a strange fuzziness sensation. You feel like you could honestly die there and then. You’ve never felt this type of pleasure before. Never with your husband, and not even with yourself whenever you tried exploring your body as a young girl. The feelings that Aemond was giving you, made the entire world numb, and your body fucking electric.

“Will you let me shoot my seed deep inside you?” Finally, he speaks some words you can understand, other than his deep groans he was serenading you with moments ago. “Will you allow me to show the seven kingdoms the woman who carries my babe in her belly?”

The whine you let out is involuntary, as well as the imagery that comes to mind of you walking eagerly with the prince, a swelling belly officially holding the babe of a man worthy of possessing his blood inside of your womb.

“Yes my prince… show me exactly how worthy you are of me…” A devious idea comes to mind, and a smirk is present on your face as you next speak. “Show me if you truly are better than my husband, the Strong…”

Aemonds face visibly darkens with anger, and the grip that he holds your skin with tightens. His thrusts are harsh as he forcibly brings you to your peak, the feeling of it all rushing through your body at speeds you had no idea was imaginable.

Even when you feel yourself try to recover, the overstimulation begins to set in as Aemond continues to thrust up into you, even as you begin to go numb all over. Still, you’re thankful at the sound of Aemonds deep growl as you feel the warmth of his cum fill you to your brim.

As you gaze down at the heaving body of Aemond, your eyes drink him all in. The blood that you had caused to be brought up from his chest, ran in small delicate trails down his skin, and it excited you all over again to see it. 

A knock rings from the door, and to your surprise, Aemond merely sits up to hold you in his arms and tells the person to enter.

It is not a man who enters, but a boy who looks as if he was already scarred by the war he has joined. It is a pity to even look at, but it certainly looks up as you see the shock on the boy's face when he observes the room and spots the body of your former husband, now stiff and pale on the floor.

“What is it you need?” Aemond snaps, his tone making the boy's eyes snap to look at him, only for the boy's eyes to wander to you, and takes over you unashamedly. He is only able to see the nude form of your back, and yet your body still burns with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal at the situation.

“Ser Cole said that when we are sure all the male Strongs were dead, we were to await your orders my prince.”

“Now that the males are dead, I command you to tell the others to make sure that they leave no Strong alive, except this one… this one will be of great use to me…” Aemond murmurs, a single finger tracing the skin of your face to look only at him, as he gazes at you deeply.

You can hear the door shut behind you, and while the silence overcomes the room you cannot help but question Aemonds previous command. “What of the women like me?” The prince raises a single brow, as if he is confused. Yet he is Aemond Targaryen, the man who has near successfully committed a whole genocide on a single house in one day. You cannot allow him to dodge a question on the basis of fake confusion. “Women born not of house Strong, and yet sold to them to be wedded and bedded for their blood to be spread?”

“Why little one they too must die, for they have had the seed of a strong taint their womb forever more. While you on the other hand my lady, knew of the tainted blood of House Strong, and rightfully rid yourself of any opportunity to taint yourself. House Strong must die, my darling, and not only by blood, but by name as well. Surely you must understand, given out shared hatred moments ago?”

“Is my name not Strong currently, my prince?” You tease. Your face widening in a content smile as Aemond dots wet and no doubt marking kisses on the skin of your neck, high enough so your collars may not cover them, so all could see who has done this to you.

“Soon my darling… soon it shall be Targaryen. And it shall also be the name of my son who is currently sleeping in your belly…”

His hand traces your skin, and you hope he does not raise it higher in fear that he will hear the sound of your heart racing at his words. You cannot find yourself able to reply to him, as the words seem to die in your throat. Instead, you simply lay your head on his shoulder, and try to blank out the high feminine screams of your fellow women as they begin to echo on the cold castle walls. The single tear that begins to roll from your eye could easily have been from the emotional turmoil you have faced, or it could easily be sadness and regret of what you have just done. You will never know…

High Valyrian Translates Part:

• Gevie - beautiful

• Ao sylutegon se sȳrje… kesan brōzagon ao ñuha mērī ābra sir till se mōris - You taste the best… I will call you my only woman now till the end

• Qogralbar… Konir sagon ziry… sȳz līve gūrogon aōha pleasure hen aōha dārilaros - fuck… thats it… good whore take your pleasure from your prince

[doxypsychlean]

is there a part 2 to Strong maybe bit of smut

Strong pt.2

Aegon ii Targaryen x Strong!Reader

Previous chapter: Strong pt.1

Warnings: Targcest, Explicit language, NSFW content, Blood, Aegon beats up Aemond(not that bad, I swear)

Thou shan't repost/copy/ translate any of my work or I'll sneak into your home late at night and bite your nose off!

English isn't my first language. I don't proofread. I slap commas wherever I feel they're needed.

Additional info: Instead of Rhaenyra escorting the Strong fellas back to Dragonstone, they all stay in the Red Keep(just imagine it for a sec that Alicent begged her ass off and got Rhaenyra to stay, cs she wants to spend more time w her(this is my fkn world and in it, these two make up idc)

A/N: Ooop, here it fkn issss!!! Ngl, I was cackling like a middleschooler while writing the spicy part of this one. Welp... Cheers, you horny bastards!!!

P.S. I fkn lied, this is nowhere near close to the req. Sorry, dear Anon.

A choked up sob came out of the Prince's mouth as he rubbed the linen washcloth over the bitemarks on his neck. Tears welled up in his eyes, but Aegon was quick to blink them away, before the woman could see.

She was sat across him, on the edge of the bed, watching him as Aegon dabbed away the blood. She was already dressed, in a long, bell-sleeved green gown that showed off every curve of hers. Aegon sneaked a glance at her deep neckline, then quickly averted his eyes.

The woman noticed it immediately, eyes never leaving his face. She ran a soft hand over her shoulder and pushed her long, dark hair out of the way, so it could trail down her back.

"Our mothers, along with your sister, Baela and Rhaena are in the gardens." She said, voice gone back to its usual cushiness. "They invited me to join them. I trust you will behave?"

The silver haired man flinched at her question. His hands dropped down to his lap, pulling at the washcloth as his eyes looked down at the dirty sheets.

Behave. Behave. Behave.

"Love?" Her eyes narrowed, word coming out rough and low.

Aegon flinched again. He looked up at her, head shaking up and down violently. She let out an amused hum, then got up on her feet.

"Good." She was now standing next to him, one hand reaching up to his face. She took in the angry bruise she'd awarded him with the night before. Then the faint imprints of her hand that covered his face, neck and chest. The rest staying hidden from her eyes by the sheet Aegon had covered his lower half with. "You're so good."

Aegon whined, the pathetic sound reverberating in his head. Before he had time to curse himself out for it, her fingers hooked under his chin. He turned to face her, hands clutching and pulling at the washcloth.

"My brothers are with Aemond and Ser Criston, in the training grounds." She said, thumb running over his bottom lip. "You'll join them."

It wasn't a question, but an order. One he wasn't brave enough to not follow. Not after the things his sweet,sweet wife had done to him throughout the previous night.

"That's it." The woman laughed out as she bent forward, lips meeting with those of Aegon. "I must go, my love. Get ready, then head down. You'll find clothes on the chair over there."

His pale eyes shot open, following to where her hand was pointing at. He nodded once more, head falling down after. The Prince put the washcloth on the nightstand as he got up.

Although he was a few good inches taller than her, Aegon felt incredibly small. Weak. Worthless. Undeserving.

He hissed as her hands wrapped around his wrists, successfully getting her to pull away. For a bit. Then she grabbed him again, this time much more gently, and brought them up so she could take a closer look.

The porcelain skin was now red and swollen. The ropes had left behind thin, angry traces where they'd cut in, marring the blank canvas Aegon was.

"I am sorry, my dragon." She whispered as she peppered his inner wrists with soft, apologetic kisses.

"It's fine." The Prince finally spoke out, his voice hoarse and trembling. He was smiling down at her, trying to bite back another hiss. "I...enjoyed it."

The brunette looked up at him, plump lips meeting with the red skin for the last time before she let go. Her arms wrapped around his neck, body pressing close to his.

Aegon rubbed his bruised cheek against hers, melting in her hands.

"My dragon..." She trailed off, pulling him impossibly close to herself. "I love you."

Aegon whined again, the tears now falling freely from his eyes. His hands reached for her hips, nails digging into the green silk of the gown that covered them.

"Say it again..." He was falling apart, body shaking with the intensity of the sobs that left his mouth. "Please."

The woman kept quiet. The fingers that were rubbing small circles on the back of his head, stopped moving.

"Please." Aegon needed to hear it. Especially after the cruel words she'd punished him with the night before. "Tell me you love me. Please."

Love me. Love me. Love me.

But she didn't say it. Instead, she unwrapped her arms from around him. The Prince almost fell to his knees at the loss of contact.

"Get dressed." She turned around, walking towards the doors of their chambers.

Aegon became painfully aware of the pitiful state he was in- naked, crying and begging, covered in endless amount of bruises, scratches and marks. He tried to put himself back together, to wipe the broken expression off his face. But there was no point.

In just a few hours, she'd completely destroyed whatever it was, that was left of the Prince. He had no ground to stand on. Not anymore. He could yell in her face, break her to pieces, even kill her. But she'd die, knowing she won. Knowing that she'd broken him in, taken him down to being this sad, miserable excuse of a person.

"I love you." Her voice reached Aegon's ears. "I truly do."

Then she was gone.

────────────

"What happened to you?" Aemond asked as his brother approached him. He lowered his sword, signaling to Criston he'd take a break.

The knight offered a small nod, then turned his attention to the younger boys who were standing off to the side.

"Got into some trouble last night?" The one-eyed prince teased.

Aegon's head shot up, eyes staring up at his younger brother in shock. How did he find out, he heard his trembling voice inside his head. His legs almost gave out at the thought of Aemond knowing what she'd done to him. His brother already looked down on him, what must he be thinking now, that he knew his big brother was used like a whore.

"Told you that you shouldn't be going out into the city alone..." Prince Aemond said, hand reaching for Aegon's shoulder.

Aegon bit down a groan as his brother's hand came down on one of the bitemarks. He shook his head, his usual smug grin coming back on his face to cover the pain.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it." A relieved breath escaped through Aegon's words. Fortunately, Aemond didn't notice it.

The long-haired man lowered his hand, eyeing Aegon up and down suspiciously. There was nothing out of the ordinary. His brother looked a bit tired, a bit disheveled. Nothing he hadn't seen before.

He looked away for a second, then his eye came back to Aegon.

"What in the Seven Hells are you wearing?"

Aegon was sporting a high-collared black doublet, black pants and leather boots. That's not what shocked Aemond. It was the red shirt that showed underneath the doublet. The red cord it was embroidered with. The three-headed dragon pin on his chest.

Then his eye trained on Aegon's hands. The ridiculously large gold ring was resting on his little finger of his right hand. On his left thumb, however, was a simple steel band ring. One that had the sigil of House Strong on it.

Aegon turned red as he noticed the way his brother was inspecting him.

"Leave it be." He whispered, eyes going back to their nephews, who were now swinging at Ser Criston. "It doesn't concern you."

Aemond wrapped one gand around the back of Aegon's neck, eliciting a pained growl from his brother.

"You didn't get that nasty bruise out in the streets, did you?" Aemond teased, eye darting to his brother now and then. "No shame, brother. I honestly expected for your Strong lady to put you in your place way sooner."

Aegon didn't dare say a word. He stood there, allowing his baby brother to make his cruel joke.

"Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond..." Criston's voice rang out. "Would you join us? We have to even the odds."

Aemond turned nodded, then took a step forward. He turned suddenly, spinning on one heel.

"Would anyone blame me if that little bastard lost an eye whilst sparring?" He said with that smirk of his. "Do you think your Strong lady will come after me, do to me what she did to you?"

And there it was, the straw that broke the camel's back. Aegon's back.

He lunged at his brother, knocking him to the ground. With his newfound strength, it only took a few blows to the face for Aemond to pass out, his head bouncing up and down with every hit.

Ser Criston, Luke and Jace reached them in no time. They tried to pull Aegon off, but the Prince simply refused to let go. The rage had blinded him, all he could see was his brother's bloodied face.

But it wasn't the cruel jokes. Nor was it Aemond threatening to take their nephew's eye out. It was him, suggesting that the Princess would put her hands on Aemond the way she'd done to Aegon.

That was for him. The pain, the humiliation,the punishment. All his. No one else's. His alone.

"Aegon!"

And just like that, Prince Aegon let go. He allowed for Criston to pull him to his feet and away from Aemond.

All his. No one else's. His alone.

He shook off Cole's hands, then turned to stare at her. Waiting. For her to storm over to him, and show everyone where his place was. To show to his mother, his sisters, his cousins, his nephews.

But nothing came. She stood there, at the top of the steps, staring down at him. One hand extended out towards Aegon. Drawing him, guiding him.

He didn't notice how Alicent ran past him, nor did he see how she dropped to her knees, next to Aemond's unconscious body. He didn't notice the scared and confused looks on his nephews faces or the way his half-sister, Rhaenyra, looked from her daughter to him with a smug grin.

All he could see was her.

Aegon followed the woman into the Red Keep and up the steps, towards their chambers.

────────────

"Why?" She asked, flopping down on the bed.

He didn't respond. Aegon was too busy trying to undo the clasps of his doublet to notice she'd said something.

"Come here..." She murmured, hand reaching out for him just like it had out there.

He heard her this time. Without wasting any time he strode over, only stopping when he had to look down to get a good look of her face.

They stood there like that for a bit, neither saying a word.

Then she spread her legs slowly, making room for him.

"Closer, I can't reach you."

The Prince took another step forward, now standing between her legs.

"I asked you a question." She said softly, fingers quickly undoing the clasps, then the buttons of his shirt. "Why did you do it?"

"He threatened to take your brother's eye out."

"I don't like it when you lie to me, Aegon." Her whole demeanor changed in the blink of an eye. There was no gentleness to her anymore. She tugged at the strings of his breeches, untying them with one swift move. "So why? I want the truth."

Aegon Targaryen had never shied away from a woman's touch the way he did when his wife's fingers ran down his happy trail. He sucked in a breath.

"He..." The Prince turned to look out the opened windows.

"What did he do?" She looked up at him, two fingers hooking at the front of his pants and tugging down.

"He asked if you'd do what you did to me, if he were to take his eye out." Aegon admitted, shaking his clothes of his body.

"And that made you knock Aemond out cold because..." The woman almost laughed at her own words. Aegon got him good, she couldn't deny it.

She watched as his breeches fell to the ground, freeing Aegon from the tight grasp they had on him. He let out a hiss as the cold air touched him, his already hard cock slapping against his lower abdomen.

Aegon looked away again, too ashamed of how much effect she had on him.

Two hungry eyes were staring down at the head of his cock, deep shade of pink and already leaking.

"Because...?" She teased, hand wrapping around him.

Aegon let out a deep moan, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. His pale face was turning red, making the purple bruise on his cheek stand out even more.

He hissed as she dragged her hand up and down the length of his cock at a painfully slow pace. The soreness of the night before still lingered, making every inch of his body scream in agony. Still, he found himself coming to love the feeling. The pain. The humiliation. The punishment.

"Because I don't want you to touch anyone else the..." His breath hitched as the brunette bent down a bit and licked a long stripe up the underside of his cock.

She felt him twitch slightly, making her let out an amused huff. A shiver ran down Aegon's back when he felt her warm breath hit him. His hand came to rest at the back of her head, gently massaging the skin underneath his fingers.

The sensation of her wet tongue dissappeared once she reached the tip, leaving the man to thrust his hips into the air. Then her full lips wrapped around the head, her tongue circling around it. She let out a low hum, the sound reverberating throughout his whole body.

"I don't want you to do what you did to me last night to anyone else!" He cried out, almost toppling over at the feeling of her tongue rubbing over the slit of his cock. "Just me..."

Her lips left him with a loud pop, the woman laughing softly at it. She wiped away the mixture of precum and saliva from her lips as she looked up at him.

"Just you, my dragon." She said as her hands wrapped around his wrists gently, guiding them towards her shoulders. "Help me get it off."

Aegon looked at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. His confusion didn't prevent him from sliding down the garment past her shoulders.

"You're not angry at me?" He asked.

"Quite the opposite..." The brunette said as she got up, leaving barely any space between their faces. "I'm proud of you, my brave dragon."

Another whine escaped Aegon as he slid his hands down her body, ridding her of her green gown. He pulled her close, their chest pressing against together.

He hid his face in the crook of her neck, planting wet, needy kisses on the skin there. Aegon lifted her up, the woman wrapping her legs around his waist quickly. He climbed on the bed while still holding her.

"I'm so sorry..." He said as he pulled away to look at her. "About yesterday. I didn't mean it, I just wanted to get a reaction from..."

She cut him short, pushing him off of her and then climbing on top of Aegon. On hand reached up to cover his mouth, the other going to his throat.

"I know." The Princess said, grinding down on him.

Aegon moaned from behind her hand, thrusting up. The grip she had on his throat got stronger. He stilled, his breathing did too.

The hand on his face turned, until her thumb was pressing down on his lips. He opened his mouth, tongue swirling around the single digit, cheeks hollowing as he sucked in.

"So good..." She whispered, her other hand sliding down his body and dissappearing between them. "So fucking good. For me."

Aegon's eyes fluttered shut as she wrapped her fingers around his cock, head shaking up and down with a choked moan.

"So brave..." The woman raised up slightly as she guided his cock to her, rubbing it over her slick cunt. "My brave dragon."

He bit down on her thumb as the tip of his cock entered her. The woman hissed, but didn't pull away. Instead, she hooked her other fingers under his chin, then shook slowly.

"Try not to bite it off or I'll have to return the favor." She joked, eyes darting from him to where their bodies met.

Both let out a chuckle, the sound soon getting replaced by Aegon's whines.

"Move." He unwrapped his lips from around her thumb, teeth still holding it in place. "Please."

"As my Prince commands..." Her breath hitched as she slammed down on him.

Her free hand trailed back up and then down again, nails digging in. Soon his porcelain skin turned to an angry shade of red, blood prickling.

Aegon couldn't hold back anymore. His hips snapped up, meeting with hers. Her palm collided with his face. He bit down on the digit in his mouth again with another hard thrust.

Another slap. His cheek was staring to sting. Then he did it again.

"You're enjoying it, aren't you?" She hissed out as she bounced up and down.

Aegon hummed, tongue rubbing against the pad of her thumb.

She pulled her hand away from his face, his teeth dragging over.

"I want to hear you." She said as she dropped down to his chest, legs giving out. "Say it."

Aegon mumbled a few incoherent sentences before wrapping his arms around her waist tight. He set up a painfully fast speed, skin hitting skin as he chased his own high.

Her mind went blank at the first thrust, hands pushing up as she tried to pull away from his grasp. She almost slipped away, but Aegon was quick to follow her. His head dipped down, lips wrapping around one of her nipples. He bit down and then sucked in, just as she'd done to him the night before.

A hiss came from the woman. One of her hands sneaked over his shoulder, then pulled his head back by his hair.

A thin string of saliva trailed from his mouth and down to her bruised nipple. He offered a toothy, devilish grin before licking his lips clean.

"I'm close." She stuttered, eyes shutting tight.

Aegon laughed out as his bruised cheek came to rest on her chest, his eyes closing. He kept the same pace, the sweet aching in his hips coming once more.

"Princess, the feast..." The doors flew open, one of her maids barging in. "Oh, Gods!"

The girl left just as quickly, blush creeping up on her face.

"Don't stop!" She moaned out as Aegon's thrust stuttered. "Don't!"

He laughed again, hips snapping. Then he stopped completely.

"It would seem I still don't know my place, wife." He craned his neck up as his mouth left behind a hot, blazing trail from her collarbones to her jaw.

"You'll learn..." The woman looked down at him, hand going back to wrap around his throat. "...husband."

[sheeple]

Lady Strong | Part 1

PHOTO NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): Strong!reader / Angst? Fandom(s): House of the Dragon (TV series) Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryan x Strong!reader / Jacaerys Velaryon x Strong!reader (platonic/siblings) Summary: It's not easy being a Strong; with a mother who committed suicide, a father who sired three children out of wedlock and then died for it, and a creepy uncle who has nefarious plans for his niece, it's hard to find people who truly mean the best for you. Luckily there are your brothers and your fiance... right? Warning(s): SPOILERS / Mentions of suicide / burning / infidelity / English isn't my first language and I never wrote this much in the past tense. A/n: Guess who’s still alive? This show pulled me out of my writing slump (kinda) [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Part Two] [Part Three]

The last thing your mother said to you was that it wasn't your fault. And that it wasn't that of your father. But mostly that it was not yours. 

She said she loved you before throwing herself off the highest tower of Harrenhal. You were a mere four years old.

That was many years ago and you can bearly remember her face. There was one portrait of her, but that burned down.

As soon as the news that your mother had passed reached your father, he brought you to the capital. It was said that the king pitied you. And he also saw you as a potential friend of princess Heleana.

Life in the capital wasn't that bad. The princess and you turned out to be fast friends quickly. Yes, she was a bit weird, but she was kind and, above all, she doesn't judge.

When you first arrived in the palace, your father introduced you to Princess Rheanyra, Ser Leanor Velaryon, and their two sons. You quickly noticed that you looked like each other. The same hair, the same nose, the same lips. All that of Harwin Strong. Except your eyes were different. They got them from your father, and yours mirrored your mother's.

You knew what that meant. Especially since Jacaerys was only born two moons before you. 

At that exact moment, you knew what mother implied with her words. It wasn't your nor your father's fault that it didn't work out. It was an arranged marriage, and they did their duty. But along the way, your mother fell in love with him. She couldn't stand the thought of him being with another woman, and she knew he did not love her. So she took her life.

For the fact that she made your mother kill herself, you did not resent princess Rheanyra at all. For the two years you lived at King's Landing, she treated you like a daughter. She allowed you to join Jace and Luke's lessons with the Septa. You even sometimes joined them during their training. Your father always had this big grin when you kicked any of the prince's arses.

Your happy little life all came to an end when Joffrey was born. It was clear that the babe was not fathered by Ser Leanor. 

Suddenly, you were told to pack your bags because you were leaving for Harrenhal. You cried while hugging Jace and Luke, not knowing when you would see them again.

The journey was long and your behind was sore at the end of the horse ride. Grandfather was angry at father and didn't speak for the whole ride. Father tried to cheer you up, knowing what it meant for you to go back to the place where your mother died.

He stayed silent when you tried to ask if it was true that Jace, Luke, and Joffrey were your half-brothers. But the look from Grandfather confirmed what you already knew.

Getting back situated in your old room, you noticed a new piece of decoration; a painting of your mother. It hung above the fireplace. Father said nothing but just stood beside you, laying a hand on your shoulder that meant a thousand words.

That night when you almost fell asleep, the smell of smoke hit your nose and orange lights seeped through the cracks under the door. You immediately sat up and jumped out of bed. You tried to open the door but it burned your hand, the knob scolding hot.

Soon, the flames destroyed your room and you watched how the last reminder of your mother got engulfed in the flames, the paint melting in the heat.

You do not remember how you escaped with your life. You passed out because of the smoke and woke up on a stretcher, your skin covered in soot and the smell of burning flesh in your nose. Your left arm had a huge burn that scarred over, turning the flesh hideous.

When you tried to ask for your father or grandfather, nobody answered, but they all had sullen looks on their face. You were the lone survivor of the fire.

The new Lord of Harrenhal, your uncle Larys, quickly became your ward. You moved back to court. But it turned out that Jace and Luke left for Dragonstone with their mother once they heard of the fire. You received a secret raven delivered by Ser Erryk from Rheanyra that she mourned the death of your father and hoped that you could visit her and her sons any time soon.

You didn't have to wait long to see your brothers again. Sadly, lady Leana Velaryon passed by dragon fire, almost the same night as the fire of Harrenhal.

Uncle Larys dragged you to Driftmark with him to pay your respects to the family of lady Leana, her husband prince Deamon, and their children.

You stood facing the ocean, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. This isn't the right moment to mourn your father's death, your uncle told you.

Someone announced their presence beside you and you looked up. "My prince", you muttered softly whilst bowing.

Prince Aemond looked over the sea and down onto ser Leanor, who stood up to his knees in the water motionless. "Rather pathetic, isn't it?"

"What is, my prince?"

The white-haired boy scoffed. "Acting in such a shameless manner. I would get revenge on the one who wronged me." The prince glanced at his uncle, who leaned nonchalantly on a wall, his eyes focused on princess Rheanyra. 

You hesitated for a moment to speak. "Not everything is resolved by violence, my prince."

Princes Aemond turned his gaze on you. His eyes fell on your gloved hands. "Are you sure about that?"

His implications were clear. Someone had started the fire. The slightest mention of the death of your father and grandfather being on purpose, made your eyes water. Lifting your skirt, you hurried away to safe face in front of almost everybody important in court.

Hiding in a random alcove, you heard steps getting closer and you feared what your uncle would have said. Instead, the Queen appeared.

"My child", she said softly, taking your tear-stained face in her hands. There was pity in her eyes, and sorrow. She knew what it was to lose a parent, so she could imagine how it must have felt to lose them both.

You quickly bowed, wiping your face. "You-your Grace. I must apologise for my behaviour, it will not happen again." Looking down, you tried to not cry more. But the tears just kept on coming.

Queen Alicent sighed deeply, pulling you to her chest and hugging you. It was the first hug you received since the passing of your father. That broke you, and you cried like a babe in the arms of the Queen. She stroked your hair and let you grieve for a moment.

After a while, you took a step back and did not dare to meet her eyes, afraid of what she would say and ashamed of your demeanour. Before you could apologise again, she silenced you with a motherly look. A look that said that it was okay. 

Wiping away the tears on your face, she called for a maid and ordered her to take you back to your room and put you to bed. She maid compiled without a word and lead you to your chambers.

You slept the remainder of the day. Once night fell, you awoke from your slumber and decided to sneak to the kitchen to try to find something to eat. Except, you found your brothers, their cousins, and prince Aemond in a standoff, screaming at each other.

"What's going on?", you asked unsure, not knowing if you were overstepping the boundaries.

One of the twin girls turned towards you. "He stole my mother's dragon! She belonged to me!"

"Your mother is dead. It is in my right as a dragon to claim one. Maybe your cousins can help you find a pig to ride, it would suit you." Prince Aemond had a smug look on his face.

The girl screamed and charged at the prince. But he fended her off easily. Her sister now joined and hits him in the face. Aemond returned the favour and punched her so hard that she fell to the ground.

Now your brothers joined, getting in on the fight. A scream escaped your lips as you watched how all four hounded up upon the prince. You tried to intercept, pulling anyone you could manage off of Aemond, but you got thrown to the side yourself. Aemond managed the kick them off, blood is flowing and whines of pain are heard as the children fell to the ground, hitting their heads. 

He held Luke by the throat and lifted up a rock. "You will die screaming in flames, just like your father did. Basterds." Aemond looked at Jace, venom in his words.

"My father is still alive!", cried Luke, his nose bleeding.

Aemond drops his arm to his side. "He doesn't know, does he? Lord Strong."

Jace unsheathed his blade and goes to attack Aemond, the girls crying out his name. The white-haired boy pushed Luke towards the eldest and Jace easily caught his brother and pushed him behind him.

Jace goes to swipe his blade towards Aemond, but the latter hit him with a rock and Jace fell to the ground. Jace throws sand into Aemond's face as he notices his younger brother grabbing his knife.

At the moment Aemond's distracted by the sand, Luke goes to swipe.

You jumped in between them, attempting to stop your brother from doing something incredibly stupid. 

But while Luke cuts out Aemond's eye, he managed to also slice your face. The white-haired prince cried out in agony as his eye gushed with blood. You dropped to the ground and hold your face yourself, feeling the sticky blood cover your hands.

Your brothers screamed out and rushed towards you, both had tears on their faces and panic in their eyes.

Not a second later, royal guards arrived at the scene and take asses the situation. They took the children inside and called upon their parents.

While the King demanded to know what happened, a maester tended to your wound. "It might scar, lady Strong, but the wound is not too deep, so you might be lucky", the maester mumbled while king Viserys and queen Alicent argue about Aemond's eyes.

As the King moved away, queen Alicent grabbed his blade to take an eye for an eye.

A primal instinct inside you suddenly came and you jumped up from your chair, pushing past the maester and your uncle. You jumped in front of the Queen, just as she was about to strike. The blade wedged itself in your shoulder and you cried out in agony.

Screams are heard from around the room and people rushed towards you. Panic was in the eyes of the Queen as she realised what she had done.

As you slowly slid down into the arms of someone, your eyes felt tired.

"I'm sorry, your Grace. I'm sorry...", you mumbled out the same words as that afternoon, a single tear rolled down your cheek before you lost consciousness from the pain.

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi 😁

I was wondering can you write dacryphilia Aegon and aemond and oversensitive niece who críes every time that she gets called strong/bastard

Please i begging you 💖

Yes yes sorry for the wait!!! Tears YEP I love the teasing and lowkey obsession on all parts

Kink Bingo - Dacryphilia

Rating: Mature

Tags: Rhaenyra’s bastard!reader, double team of fucked up: Aegon n Aemond, teasing, Dacryphilia, TW: dub-con, she just wants to be remembered even if it’s two crazy blonde princes w issues

Aegon had a new hobby. His hobby was the only one that coincided with his brothers. They reveled in it, making it a competition to who can rile up Rhaenyra’s pretty little bastard the most.

Aegon’s reasoning was simple; he liked to see her tears, especially when his head was between her soft thighs. Angering his nephews and sister was a plus. Aemond’s reasons were unknown but the elder prince had it a feeling it was to piss Lucerys off. He never knew if what Aemond did was to get off or be cruel. It didn’t matter, both brothers lived to make the sweet Princess shed salty lickable tears.

Like a charm, there she was nestled under a tree in the desolate Godswood. Aegon frowned at the sight of lanky Aemond looming over her, arm braced on the bark. He was murmuring something low but by her face it wasn’t kindly.

Aegon puffed his chest up and sauntered over to the pair. His eyes curiously flicked down to survey her face— wet and blotchy. Aemond was quick to the point. The elder mused, “Are you harassing our niece Aemond? Not very kind of you.”

Aemond grinned and smoothly replied, “No brother, I was just telling her how beautiful those brown curls of hers are. Ser Harwin had the same head of hair, didn’t he?” Aegon knelt down to brush a beautiful tear from her pale cheek. She girl blubbered, “S-stop it! I’m p-p-pure of blood!”

Aegon tilted his head, lips split in a devious smile. He nodded slowly and cooed, “Obviously you have some Targaryen in you, you’ve got your dragon sweet thing. You should be proud of that.” Her spirits lightened a bit, doe eyes searching Aegon’s for reassurance.

“See, I am blood of the dragon and of the sea.”

Aemond snorted, eyes gleaming in excitement, “Dear niece, that’s a strong claim. Lord Laenor wasn’t interested in copulating with our Sister. Ser Harwin was steadfast and true for your mother.”

She sobbed again, brown eyes downcast. Aegon played good knight, wrapping an arm around her slim waist. For being Harwin Strong’s heritage they definitely got the leanness from Rhaenyra. Aegon nuzzled her cheek, humming, “If anything you should be proud you had such a strong warrior for a father. Maybe you’ll get legitimized. Or death.”

She burst into choppy sobs again, whining, “No more, it’s mean, please!” Her wide eyes begged for release, flickering between the two brothers caging her lithe body in. Aemond sank down this time, face deep in calculation. He idly thumbed a tear away before dryly laughing, “Why would we stop when our bastard princess cries so pretty, hm?”

They swaddled her frame, Aegon petting her hair, Aemond murmuring spiteful insults. She wouldn’t admit it but any attention was better than the day-to-day apathy from most. Tears streaming down her cheeks, she cried, “Kiss me, one of you, please I can’t take it!” Aegon’s cock throbbed insistently, rutting against her trembling thighs. He latched plump lips to her soft neck. Aemond took the brunette girl’s lips roughly, cooing, “Such a good strong brat hm?”

It would be a long day in the Godswood.

[betty-gb]

Ok but do you have any hc about Leo valdez with a s/o that’s like 5’9 and we’ll built not bulky but strongggg

leo valdez x tall!strong! reader

warnings: none as always, unedited… sorry

an: okay i got this request months and months ago. i feel so bad but i don’t know what to write so here you go. sorry 🤍🤍

-okay okay

-leo with a tall and strong reader

-so i feel like he would think that he wants like a small s/o because come on he’s bad boy supreme, hot stuff etc.

-he wants to feel all big and macho (sorry i even cringed at myself saying that)

-but then he meets you!

-and i headcannon that he has a thing for tall people

-i mean in my mind there’s no way calypso is shorter than him

-he also has a thing for people way out of his league

-and i’m kinda seeing like gentle giant and energetic small attitude here

-like he’s small but he has the attitude to make up for it

-like i mentioned in my characters x short s/o, i feel like leo’s a little spoon, or just likes to have his face in your boobs/chest

-he’s an ass guy tho (idk it’s just a feeling)

-but if you like to be little spoon i’m sure he’ll be more than happy to let you curl up to him and wrap himself around you

-i don’t think he really cares position wise (he’s just touch starved)

-and don’t even get me started on him watching you training

-bro is mesmerized

-you just look so so so absolutely gorgeous with a sword/dagger/bow/etc. (whatever you want)

-and when you’re wearing short sleeves or god forbid a tank top, he’s practically drooling

-you better get out a bucket to catch the leak

-sorry that sounded disgusting

-and say you guys go to a mortal school and you’re working out at the gym or something

-my guy is dead

-i feel like he’s just like so i’m awe of you

[awesomerextyphoon]

You: Hi Nat!

Nat: Hey! Do you and Thor ever feel full?

You: Uhh, what brought this about?

Nat: Sam overheard Thor talking to Steve about how the two of you are always hungry.

You: Well, he's not wrong. I usually take my equivalent of a protein bar twice a day to stave off the hunger.

Nat: Well, as your friend, I refuse to let this stand.

You: It's okay, Nata-

Nat: I won't hear of it! We're going out to eat.

You: Alrigh-

Nat: Besides, Tony owes me a favor.

You: Well, if you put it that way.

Wanda: What's going on here?

Nat: I'm taking her out to eat since she almost never eats.

Wanda: Cool. Should I get Thor?

You: It's only fair.

-----

You: Whew! That hit the spot!

Thor: T'was a great feast, indeed! Thank you for inviting me.

Nat: No problem!

You: I could go for a tummy rub right now.

Nat: I'll give one when we get back.

You: Yay!

Wanda: Glad I found this Thai place!

You: Thanks, Wanda! I'm gonna- UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP!!! Oh shit! Sorry!

Nat: Nice one!

You: Hehe. Thanks, Nat!

Wanda: That's what happens when you chug nine two-liters of Dr. Pepper on a dare.

You: I know, I know. Still worth it, though.

Wanda: The look on that douchebag's face!

Nat: Also, Thor's glare sealed the deal.

Thor: T'was nothing, ladies!

You: Umm...would it be bad if that belch cleared some room? I'm still kinda of hungry.

Nat: Nope.

Thor: I could go for burgers.

You: Same.

Wanda: Well, let's go!

---

Tony: Hey Pep?

Pepper: Yes, Tony?

Tony: Why did I get an alert from nine different restaurants that they were 'eaten into closing'?

Pepper: Nat took your card as part of the favor you owed her. She took two of our powerhouses out for a 'good meal'.

Tony: ...Damn it.

[feyhunter78]

Hey just came up with another apprentice fic. Helaena falls for the apprentice of sir criston whose a ‘legitimate’ son of Lord Strong. He likes birds the same as Helaena loves her bugs so they bond over that. Alicent even encourages the courting as it would get the strongs on the greens side.

Also since I have many more apprentice themed one shots for house of the dragon characters it’d be funny to have an apprentice master list. Do whatever you think is best I literally came up with this in the shower 😅

So this one is much shorter than the other ones!!! Sorry about that!!! I haven't written a reader insert from the male pov before, so I was a little nervous about it. XD Also, I went ahead and made a separate masterlist for these, so keep them coming! I'm enjoying the challenge of trying these different characters and scenarios!

Apprentice!reader masterlist

Doves and Spiders

Helaena notices the way Sir Criston’s apprentice looks at birds, the way they draw his warm brown eyes away from his sword. How he leans down and feeds them crumbles of bread from his pocket, the way they flock to him, singing sweetly as he sits in the gardens.

Sir y/n Strong, his name was, a son from Lord Strong’s current wife, only a year or so older than Helaena herself.

Sir y/n is kind, that is the first thing she notices. Not just to birds, but others as well. She often spots him helping his half-brother Lord Larys make his way around the Keep, and he speaks up against any whispers about him.

Y/n also defends his nephews, taking them under his wing, and challenging any who dare to speak about their parentage.

Helaena finds herself surprisingly entranced by his brown curls and bright smile, enough that she finds herself approaching him in the Godswood.

“Princess Helaena, good morn, I will take my leave if you wish to be alone.” You say, bowing to the silver haired princess.

She shakes her head. “Please, stay, I wish to ask you something.”

You incline your head, and remove your cape, placing it on the ground, so she does not have to sit in the dirt. “I am at your service.”

She sits and pats the spot beside her.

You sit, leaving enough space between you that no one would deign it improper.

“I have seen a little red bird outside my window, its song is quite sweet, and it often follows after a similar sized bird with soft gray coloring. Do you happen to know the name of my new companion?”

You think for a moment. “Perhaps it is a cardinal? Winter is approaching and, they will be settling in with their mate soon.” A flash of red catches your eye and you point to it. “Did it look similar to that?”

Helaena follows your pointing, and nods. “Yes.”

“Then, it is a cardinal, the males are red to attract their mates.” You say confidently, enjoying the opportunity to speak about your greatest interest.

“How interesting, one would think the females would be adorned in bright colors.” Helaena says, her voice dreamy and lilting.

“One would think, but the males must compete to attract a mate, much in the way that knights fight in tourneys, hoping perhaps their skills will attract a wife.”

“Will you participate in the upcoming tourney?” She asks, worry filling her voice.

You shake your head, and in a rush of courage place your hand upon hers. She doesn’t remove her hand, and you give her a small smile. “No, my eldest brother Harwin will be competing for our house.”

“That is good, then, I would not wish to see you harmed.” She says, lilac eyes meeting your brown ones.

“Princess Helaena, I must ask, and please do not hesitate to chastise me if my inquiry is inappropriate, but I have noticed your gaze upon me as of late. Have I done something to offend you?”

She shakes her head, pink tinting her cheeks. “No, not at all, Sir y/n.”

“Then may I ask why I have been honored so often with your gaze?”

Helaena’s heart was racing, and her eyes darted to the ground. “I apologize if it has made you uncomfortable.”

“No, it has not, in fact, if I may be so bold to admit, I find it rather flattering.”

Helaena’s stomach flips. “I find myself drawn to you, much as a moth is drawn to a flame.”

“I am pleased to hear that, Princess, as I often find myself caught in your gaze, similar to a fly in a spider web.” You lean down to whisper your next words in her ear. “Though unlike a fly, I would not struggle if you wished to devour me.”

Her face blooms bright red, and you sit back, a teasing smile on your face.

“What if I am a black widow and will be the reason you lose your life?” She asks, a far away look in her eyes.

“That is a risk I would be more than willing to take.” You reply honestly, eyes drifting to her perfectly formed lips.

Her hand finds its way to your tunic, and yours finds its way to her waist. The wind ruffles her hair, and in that moment you realize why Mourning Doves mate for life.

You cannot imagine anyone surpassing Helaena. She is a divine being, nature herself incarnate, and you lean forward brushing your lips ever so gently against hers, pulling back to see her expression.

It is one of the sweetest things you’ve ever seen, and the urge to kiss her senseless surges through you.

Helaena beats you to it, pulling you forward and reconnecting your lips. She tastes of sun warmed honey, and you pull her closer.

Helaena’s head is spinning, y/n’s soft lips take her under, making the butterflies in her stomach erupt, and she giggles when she pulls away.

You caress her cheek, about to say something, when you’re interrupted.

“Y/N.” You hear your master Sir Criston calling your name and look up, hands removing themselves from Helaena instantly. He is accompanied by the queen, who has an odd look on her face.

You stand and offer your hand to Helaena. She takes it gracefully and wanders over to her mother’s side.

“I have noticed you growing closer with the Princess Helaena.” Sir Criston says, as he swings his sword.

You block the blow. “The princess is kind and does not mind me filling her ears with knowledge of birds.”

“I assume she does the same to you with bugs?”

You smile. “Yes, it is all quite fascinating.”

Sir Criston stops, and you stop as well. He claps you on the shoulder and pulls you closer. “The queen wishes to betroth you and Princess Helaena, it would bring House Strong further within the fold, and Helaena would be happy. Will you accept her offer?”

You can’t believe the words, coming from his lips. “Of course, I would be honored.”

He releases your shoulder and resumes a fighting stance. “Good man.”

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @svtansdaddyx, @fan-goddess, @dc-marvel-girl96, @shintax-error, @bellameshipper, @the141bandicoot

[plsdontame]

Give me a AIB OC or reader that's physically Capable. Give me a character that can throw hands or shoot guns. Give me a reader who thrives in spade or clubs games. Give me an OC who's just relies on hands and straight common sense.

[dumbgothbunny]

Aemond/Strong!Reader

When you sit there

Acting like you know me

Acting like you only brought me in to get below me

Never mind the death threats

Parting at the door

We'd rather be six feet under than be lonely

If you had a problem

Then you should have told me

Before you started getting all aggressive and controlling

You only drink the water

When you think it's holy

So keep an eye on the road or we will both be here forever

I was more than just a body in your passenger seat

You were more that just somebody I was destined to meet

I see you go half blind when you're looking at me

But I am

Between the second hand smoke and the glass on the street

You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave

You say you want me but you know I'm not what you need

But I am

[achaoticeternal]

when it was calmer.

AEMOND TARGARYEN x STRONG!READER part one - courage of my convictions

summary: being the youngest of the strong children, you have your first taste of what it means to be a lady of the court.  word count: 1.9k warnings: Aegon being Aegon, manipulation a/n: the reader is the daughter of Lyonel Strong, and younger sister of Harwin and Larys Strong. 

“My princess,” You gently called out to Helaena, “Please, let us go enjoy the gardens. They are far more enjoyable than watching your brothers and cousins quarrel.”

As soon as you noticed the competitive glances between Sir Criston and your eldest brother, Harwin, your instincts told you it would be best to escort the princess back into the comfort of the Red Keep. Having served as Helaena’s lady in waiting for the past year and a half had taught you a great many things about her and about the house of the dragon. Though the house was the epitome of royalty, they fought as any other family would - no matter how small the issue. 

“My lady, don’t you wish to sit and watch-”

“Would you not rather enjoy time in the library or alchemy labs examining the creatures our grand maester has placed in jars for your viewing pleasure?” You quickly interrupted. 

With an excited grin, the princess took your hand as the two of you descended the stairs from the overlook of the training yard. The pair of you giggled between girlish thoughts and small jokes, distracting you both from the jabs and punches all the princes and their trainers threw at dummies. 

“My sister and her sweet lady!” Prince Aegon called from across the yard. What a dread, the princess and yourself had nearly escaped indoors. 

Helaena spoke not, only looking at her brother with blank eyes. Knowing how the prince enjoyed making spectacles out of his behavior, and it becoming ten fold worse if not rewarded with proper attention, you instead bade yourself to answer Aegon, “What pleases you, my prince?”

Aegon, all but gracefully, strided toward the pair of you with his brother and cousins quickly trailing behind, “Where are you off too?”

“The princess and I were heading into the halls to seek our own enjoyment outside of the training grounds,” You explained in your kindest tone as Aegon’s eyes unpleasantly scanned your adolescent frame. He always pulled such stunts when Queen Alicent or your brothers were not around to correct his behavior. Your tone quickly began souring, “We wish to be off to the library and indulge ourselves with knowledge.”

“Knowledge?” Aegon laughs, “You are ladies of the court. What use do you have of knowledge when you are just to produce pleasure or heirs?”

If you could strike the eldest son of the King without consequence, you would have done it in an instant. Helaena was his betrothed -- but the way he spoke of her… you pitied your friend. 

“Our sister and her friend can enjoy the library all they choose - you hardly ever touch a book,” the voice came from behind Aegon, belonging to the second son, Aemond. 

A giggle echoed throughout the courtyard as you and Helaena laughed at Aemond’s jest. Aegon was clearly unamused by his brother’s antics, “And what use do I have for books when I have a dragon?”

Aegon's comment was clearly targeted and even caused a few snickers from Rhaenyra’s sons. You frowned at such words, seeing young Aemond scowl at his brother. The younger brother clearly wanted to say something, but refrained, knowing that if he pushed too hard, Aegon’s fit would become worse. 

“And what is my youngest sister doing down on the training fields with the princess?” Harwin’s voice broke the tension between the group of adolescents. 

“We’ve been watching them train,” Helaena interjected before you could speak a word, “Watching dragons dance with each other.”

You looked from Helaena to Aegon to Harwin, “True, as the princess says. But we were planning to seek entertainment inside the Keep.”

Before any another could speak, Ser Criston approached, standing across from your brother. Though you had no understanding of it, the two men had never been fond of each other, despite both being loyal to the crown. When you asked your father or Harwin, neither would answer you properly, just dismiss you or change the subject. However, your brother Larys would chuckle when you inquired about the subject with him, but his responses came in riddles. Riddles that you could not crack like you could understand those of Princess Helaena.

Ser Criston’s glare turned from Harwin to you. There was a malicious intention behind his eyes, though the reason for it was unknown to you, “Little Lady Strong, why don’t you wish to continue watching the future protectors of the realm train into fine men?”

“Do such things bore you?” The white knight’s eyes flickered back to Harwin, “Or do you simply not enjoy watching strong boys?”

Your tongue and mind escaped you. Any sort of answer had evaded you as the tension began to drown the training yard. Your eyes cut to the youngest boys, who also looked greatly confused, before looking to Aegon who had an awful smirk plastered to his face. There was something amiss. 

“I have no opinion here. I am simply to be with the princess and join her in whatever entertainment she seeks,” You looked to Helaena with a great look of hope in your eyes. 

Helaena looked at the ground, but her eyes flickered up to yours for just a moment at the mention of her title. It was quick -- you had barely recognized her glance before it fixated elsewhere, “There is more for me to see today. Lady, please join me.”

Whether she truly knew it or not, Helaena had spared you from the continued tension as she wrapped her arms with yours. The pair of you began to return indoors, not sparing a look to the men behind you. 

Before the young women could enter, a butterfly with wings of orange and brown scorched with red landed on the princess’ hand. Both of you paused, observing the insect together. You admired its natural beauty as Helaena narrowed her eyes in contemplation. 

Once it flew off, Helaena spoke again while leading you into the Red Keep…

“Walls of flames… and here you stay.”

News of the brawl in the courtyard came later when a handmaiden entered Helaena’s chambers. She didn’t even have to speak any names, you knew who was part of the quarrel: Harwin and Ser Criston. 

Once you had dismissed yourself from the princess with her blessing, you moved in an instant to go see your father. Knowing he would be furious, if you got to the Hand’s chambers soon enough, maybe you could calm your father and check on your eldest brother. With quick steps, you made it down the hall. The door to the Hand’s private room began to close, but you had to slip into the room. Maybe it would change things…

But before you could make it inside, a hand grabbed you and the door was firmly closed. At your defeat, you looked to see who had grabbed your wrist, slightly shocked to see your other brother - Larys.

“Brother, please. We must go in and tell father not to make any rash decisions,” You pleaded to him, only to be met with a doubtful look.

Larys sighed as he began to escort you away from the door, “Dear sister, Harwin must face the consequences of his actions, especially as the future Lord of Harrenhal.”

“But he is son to the hand of the King! And Ser Criston had been antagonizing him!”

“It does not matter,” Larys tutted, speaking to you as if you were still just a toddler, “He has been removed from the City Watch and now must face the wrath of father.”

Your lip quivered as you looked at any place you could besides Larys, “I should have stayed in the training yard, I could-”

“You could’ve what? Stopped him,” Larys brought his hand to rest on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you, “Father was there and could not stop it. How would either of us being in the training yard stop our hot-headed brother from making rash decisions?”

Though you didn’t always trust your brother, you knew it would be wise to listen to him and heed any advice he would offer. “But what is to happen to us?”

Larys thought for a moment, clearly considering the possibilities of things that could transgress. He had always been a thinker, a man of knowledge; while Harwin was a man of action. With a content nod, he looked back to you, “That is a fair question, my sister.”

There was an attempt to suppress a chuckle, but a light one slipped past his lips before he composed himself, “Luckily for us, we are both quite valuable friends to members of the crown. Even though Harwin dishonored our name, I believe the Queen shall be gracious enough to look past such things for our sake.”

Though Larys’ statement did not yet make sense to you, in time you would learn how merciful his answer was.

That evening, your family did not dine with the royal family as was tradition and expected. Instead, you took dinner in the Hand’s chambers at your father and Larys’ side. Harwin had been dismissed for “other” business.

Fortunately, the Queen did permit you to spend an hour with Helaena before she would go to bed. The princess and you had a way of distracting yourselves from the occurrences and world around you - speaking of books and riddles. Yet, you did not expect Aemond to be joining you that evening as well.

You and Helaena sat by the crackling fireplaces, just talking over some anatomical book the princess had spread before the pair of you. The nurse announced the Prince’s presence, but before Helaena or yourself could address it, Aemond sat with you both, listening to his sister ramble.

Aemond and Helaena were naturally close, both disliking their elder brother’s treatment of them and his other activities. Though you did not know the Dragon Prince well, you were comfortable around him. So when the maid announced it was time for Helaena to sleep, he offered to escort you back to your own chambers.

The walk was mostly silent, not that you minded. It was nice enough for him to even look at you after the events of the day. You fidgeted with your fingers, thinking to yourself before he finally broke the silence.

“I am sorry to hear about Harwin’s departure,” Aemond spoke, voice shaky, “From my understanding, you are close with your brothers.”

You chuckled at his choice of words, “Even in our age differences, yes, I would consider myself to be close with them.”

Another lull fell between the two of you.

“From my understanding, you are to stay at the Red Keep while your father and Harwin return to Harrenhal,” Aemond spoke once more.

A shy smile graced your face, “Yes, the Queen requested that my father leave me behind under the watch of her and my brother, Larys. I am in a fortunate position, as Helaena’s lady-in-waiting.”

Aemond simply nodded his head, “True, it is important that my sister have… a good friend…”

“That is quite the compliment,” You smiled at the young prince, “Thank you, your grace.”

The pair of you continued walking in silence until you reached the door to your chamber. Though you had been silent, it seemed as if something had been left unsaid. But you knew better than to pry for such things. You would simply have to do without for tonight.

“Thank you, my prince, for accompanying me to my room,” You curtsied, looking into the violet eyes of the Targaryen prince. 

“It is my duty,” Aemond spoke quickly, before promptly turning on his heels and walking away. He walked quickly and the air had shifted, stealing away your moment. 

With that, you went into your chamber and awaited sleep to take you.

this is the first part in my new series - courage of my convictions

any and all feedback is appreciated!

[velvetcrimsonkisses]

Nanami who pushes all his weight on you when he fucks. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat forming on his face, and his warm skin slapping against yours creating immense pleasure between the two of you. Kissing you sloppily because he doesn’t care, all he needs right now is to feel the love of his life. Bare bodies pressed together, as his cock works diligently into you. Enthralled by your beauty and the faces of pleasure you make, he continues staring at you, madly in love. The peak of lust arriving soon, he buries his head into the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses into the sensitive area. He finishes inside making sure not to waste a single drop as he has one goal: to see you round with his child. 

Just a thought....

[sheeple]

Lady Strong | Part 3

PHOTO NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): Strong!reader / Angst? Fandom(s): House of the Dragon (TV series) Pairing(s): Aemond Targaryan x Strong!reader / Jacaerys Velaryon x Strong!reader (platonic/siblings) Summary: It's not easy being a Strong; with a mother who committed suicide, a father who sired three children out of wedlock and then died for it, and a creepy uncle who has nefarious plans for his niece, it's hard to find people who truly mean the best for you. Luckily there are your brothers and your fiance... right? Warning(s): Oof lads this is a sad one / murder / not good anger management / foul words? / It’s eps 10 so hold on lads A/n: Not me trying to make this a two-parter💀 also did I use some input of the comments I got? Who knows🤷🏻‍♀️ [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Part One] [Part Two]

No words leave your lips as you watch the Queen before locking eyes with your family across the table. Jace jumps up from his seat, fuming. You shake your head subtly to make him stop, but it is no use.

"Who has decided this?"

"Jace!", his mother scolds him, a stern look on her face.

Prince Aemond also raises from his seat. "My mother, the Queen, and Lord Strong, Lady Strong's ward."

You turn towards Prince Aemond. Did he know? For how long did he know what your uncle was conspiring? 

You rise from your chair, making both princes look at you. "I must apologise for Prince Jacaerys, my Queen. I'll be a good wife to your son. If I may be excused?"

With one final bow, you walk out of the banquet hall. A heavy feeling slowly grows in your chest. Is this how your mother felt when her engagement was announced to your father? Did they know growing up that they would be engaged, or were they also thrown into the deep?

Once you finally reach your room, you collapse on your bed, laying on the silks as you peer up at the top of the canopy. 

Your peace is soon disturbed by Jace barging into your room and slamming the door. He angrily starts to pace in front of the fireplace, his hands on his waist as he mutters to himself.

"Hello to you too, Jace", you sigh but stay put on the bed. He stops to look at you, huffs a couple of times and continues pacing.

"They can't do this! He's... insufferable! And cruel!"

"Have you even talked to him since Laena Valeryon's funeral?", you challenge him.

Jace stops in his warpath, his silhouette illuminated from behind by the fire but his confused expression is very clear. "Why are you defending him? They're forcing you into this marriage to make you spy on us."

That makes you sit up and raise an eyebrow. "Who said that?"

"Mother for sure will put a stop to this─"

"She won't." You get up from the bed and walk towards him. "Because she ─ like me ─ knows this is the best option. Yes, it is an arranged marriage. But your own got announced too today! It's the same, Jacaerys, and you know it."

That makes him shut up. He swallows and turns his head to the side, looking at nothing in particular. 

"I'm sure he's a good man, Jace." 

Jace gives you a look, and you return it. "How do you know?", he fires back, "you haven't talked to him too since! He could be a rapist for all we know."

"He's not Aegon", you hiss.

"No, we don't need another trying to claim the throne", he hisses back.

"I took a knife for him."

"And one for Luke!"

You shake your head and turn around, massaging your temples as you feel a headache brewing. "Please Jace... can we continue this tomorrow? I already lost my appetite. I don't want to lose my sleep too."

Jace, for once this entire time, get's reasonable and makes to leave my room. "Do you want me to extinguish the fire?", he asks, standing in the doorway.

You shake your head, "I'll do that myself." 

Jace nods and closes the door behind him. As soon as Jace's footsteps are no longer heard, the first vase flies through your room. 

A yell escapes from your lips as you trash the bedroom, taking out your anger on the furniture and decoration. You are so angry it hurts. Deep from within anger burns through your fingertips and out as you throw another candle against a wall. 

Blood spills out of your hands as you watch the fire crackle in the fireplace, your chest raising up and down, straining against your stays.

Your anger soon replaces with sadness. You let yourself drop to the ground, covering your mouth as you sob uncontrollably.

Your father said to always look strong, and be the exact person they expect you to be from your house. Never show weakness in front of the eyes of the court. He knew how ruthless they could be and when shown just one grain of insecurity or weakness, they would latch onto it and tear you apart.

And you've stayed strong, all those years. You've endured being burned, stabbed, sliced, and loneliness at Herrenhal. Never truly feeling at home anywhere. 

Haven't you given enough?

How could they? How could Larys do this to you? You knew that he didn't love you, but selling you off to the one who's vocal about your brothers' true birthright and his wish to maim Lucerys. 

And now you're going to marry that man. Are they going to expect you to switch your loyalties? You've never really cared for Rhaenyra. Feeling indifferent about her was the best option. But your brothers...

You would do anything for them. You know if their mother doesn't become queen, they're going to be killed. And you don't know how you would handle the death of either of them.

Without realizing it, you fall asleep in the middle of the trashed room. Throughout the night, the fire has extinguished itself, the coals still smouldering once you get woken up by a servant. A gasp leaves her lips at the state of the room and of you.

She quickly ushers you into a chair that somehow survived your rampage. She puts some ointment on your hands, binding them before putting you in a beautiful dress.

The Princess and Prince decided to leave the capital to bring their children home before returning to stay with the King.

Luke and Joffrey hug you tearfully, knowing it will be a long time before they see you again. 

Princess Rhaenyra looks at you worried. "Please know that you may not be of my blood, but I consider you to be my daughter. Pay no mind to Lord Vaemond's words."

You send her a small smile. "I know, my Princess. And I am grateful for the kindness you've shown me all these years. Even if I may not have shown it at all times."

She gives you a smile back and caresses your cheek before making room for her eldest son to say goodbye.

Jace's eyes zero in on your bandaged hands and he narrows them, "you have to stop hurting yourself for others. You're not a martyr."

"I do not", you hiss at him silently, making sure nobody sees it.

"Mother has assigned Ser Erryk Cargsyll as your personal guard", he whispers as he hugs you tightly. "She knows something isn't right. Starting with that cunt watching you."

You turn around and see Aemond observing the departure. 

Jace mounts Vermax and holds for one last time your hand before pushing off of the ground, tears in your eyes. You know a storm is brewing between the Greens and the Black, and you're right in between it all.

As soon as the ships leave the port, Aemond makes his way next to you, watching as you wave them off in hope of a good journey.

"I was hoping we could take a stroll through the gardens. Catch up after so many years apart."

What a delight.

You nod and the both of you walk next to each other in silence. He has his hands clasped behind his back while you fiddle with the hems of your sleeves. 

Ser Erryk watches the prince with hawk's eyes as he stands at the entrance of the garden, his hand on his sword in case the Prince dares to do something foolish. But you doubt that.

"Tell me, Lady Strong, what is Harrenhal like?"

You look up at the Prince in search of something on his face. But what? That he's jesting you? For cruelty?

"It's barren after the fire. But it's almost rebuilt. In my honest opinion, it's bland. Most of the heirlooms and the personal belongings of my family have disappeared."

He hums. "And do you miss your mother? I assume you left her behind travelling here."

He- he can't be serious, right? How does he not know?

"She's dead, your Highness."

The Prince stops in his tracks, a few steps behind you. "I apologise, I didn't know. How did she die?"

Well, if he wants the know you, that is a surefire way to do it. "She took her life jumping from the highest tower in Harrenhal when I was still a small child." 

Surprisingly, Prince Aemond reaches for your hands, clasping them in his. A single hand of his dwarfs your own but the two of them engulf yours. 

"You must have been terribly alone, all those years at Harrenhal."

What... is he doing? 

Smiling uncomfortably, you pull your hands away. "I've had my family. It seems like your relationship with the Queen is very close, your Highness."

Smooth, changing the subject.

Aemond nods. "Yes. To be fair, I was never close to my father as a child. He was always busy being king, and turning a blind eye to the antics of his eldest daughter." He glances at you to gauge your reaction. Of course, he would take a dig at the parentage of your brothers. That's how he lost an eye in the first place

Choosing to ignore the comment, you say nothing. It's better to keep quiet than say something you would regret. 

"You've grown wise over the years. And even more beautiful than we were children. The years have done you well."

The comment makes you produce the most unflattering noise a lady can make, at least that is what your septa told you; a snort. 

It makes the Prince smile on his own as he watches you laugh. "Am I not speaking the truth?"

"I would hardly call myself beautiful, my Prince. I've been told that scars can be most unflattering."

"Scars are battles you've fought. Fights you won, and duels you lost. They are something you are to be proud of." He reaches out a hand and touches the scar on your collarbone, just like the day before. Only this time, you don't pull away.

His hand travels down, grabbing your hand. He starts to loosen the bandages and grazes the wounds that you inflicted on yourself. A hiss escapes your lips as it is a sore spot.

As you are fixated on Aemond holding your hand, you don't notice his other one reaching up at your face. He caresses the scar that runs through your top lip. It's the scar you got for him, defending him from the Strong bastards that faithful night. Defending him from your own brothers.

Your breath hitches. His hands are hot, scorching against your skin. The intimate moment lights up a fire within you, low in your belly. A fire you've never felt before. 

The rather intimate moment gets interrupted by a servant fetching the Prince at the request of the Queen. He hums, his eyes still focused on you.

"You've won all your battles, my Lady Strong", he whispers, pulling his hands off of you, but not before rebadging your hand. He presses a kiss on the palm of your hand and goes after the servant.

Your breathing is harsh while your heart runs a thousand miles an hour. What the fuck just happened? Since when is Aemond Targaryen so affectionate? To anyone? Was this whole marriage his doing, and not that of your uncle and the Queen?

Glancing at Erryk, you give him an apologetic look before you make your way out of the garden and towards the library, not knowing what else to do until dinner.

And dinner does not come fast. And it passes slowly. Aemond has asked you to join him in his chambers. You know you can't decline, he's a prince after all. 

Getting into bed quite late and your belly full of good food and Dornish wine, you sleep through the commotion early in the morning.

The King has died.

Only when a servant girl comes to dress you up quickly because your presence is wanted by the Queen, you do notice something's wrong.

Everybody is on edge and looking sombre, their eyes downcast. The banners have changed from their normal red colour to black. 

Once you enter the Queen's quarters, you see her with a distressed look on her face. You curtsey.

"My dear (Y/n). Take a seat."

You cautiously take place next to her on the two-seater, your hands clasped in your lap. 

She sighs once, "now you're betrothed to my son, you're expected to have your alliance with the Greens. Can I count on you?"

The question baffles you. Where your alliance lay was never an issue. Nobody ever expected you to choose a side.

"I... I don't understand, my Queen."

Queen Alicent stands up from the couch, towering over you. "The King has died in his sleep. His dying wish was for Aegon to ascend the throne. He is the true heir."

This makes you stand up yourself. "With all due respect, your Majesty. But Princess Rhaenyra was named heir of the iron throne almost twenty years, and in all those years the King never wavered from his choice to place his oldest daughter as heir."

She turns around with a disappointed look on her face. "Alright. Lock her up and don't let her out before she changes her mind."

Two guards who were stationed at the door grab both an arm and drag you out of the Queen's chambers. You thrash and squirm, anything to get out of their iron-like grip.

You make eye contact with Erryk, in hope that he will save you. But he shakes subtly his head. Like he wants to say not yet.

The guards throw you in your room and lock the door. Screaming and banging on the door until your voice is hoarse does nothing, you've discovered. Trying to pry open the lock also does nothing.

Only after you've given up, the lock rattles and Ser Erryk steps through the door dressed in a black cloak and also holding one. 

"We have to leave, now." He throws the cloak at you and without thinking, you do what he says. He opens a secret passage in a wall and leads you through the inner workings of the castle, sneaking past white cloaks and to the stables.

He pushes a satchel in your hands. You peak inside and it's King Viserys' crown. "Whatever you do, keep it secure. If you follow the winding road to the north, you'll be at Dragonstone in one and a half days through the western shortcut. Ride fast and be safe."

With those words, you depart from King's Landing at full speed on horseback, only stopping at night to rest but further continuing on.

Once Dragonstone finally comes into view, you jump off the horse and run the last few steps up the bridge. What you're met with is a funeral for what looks like a baby.

Trying to control your breathing, you make your way to Princess Rhaenyra, now Queen Rhaenyra. You pull the crown out of the satchel and kneel down, holding the crown up.

"I, Lady (Y/n) Strong, daughter of Harwin Strong of house Strong and Deranna Florent of house Florent, pledge my allegiance to Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, the first of her name, the Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men."

Prince Daemon walks up to you and takes the crown from your hands, studying it. He turns around and places the crown on the rightful Queen's head and kneels down. Soon everybody follows as they pledge their loyalty to the Black Queen.

Soon, everybody makes the council room ready for the first Black Council, Jace pulls you aside into a hug.

"How did you escape? I thought they would surely lock you up."

"They did, but Ser Erryk helped me escape and bring the crown."

Jace lets out a sigh. "Thank the Gods you're safe. I couldn't sleep at the thought of you being with the usurpers."

Smiling at him, you squeeze his hand. "They haven't harmed me. But Queen Alicent made me swear my loyalty to Aegon. I didn't, and that's why they locked me up in my room."

As the council is summoned, Jace and Luke keep you close to them out of protection. Most of the things being discussed, you don't understand, but once they bring up the alliances and Jace says the Queen should send him and Luke. 

Stepping up, you open your mouth. "Please, my Queen, send me with them. I may not be of royal blood, like your sons, but I would like to do my part. If you allow me."

Jace gives you a stern look, obviously not agreeing with you.

Before the Queen can agree or disagree, Luke speaks up. "She can join me, mother. Arrax is big enough for the two of us."

After a moment of thinking, she agrees. Once you receive the letters, you make your way outside. The Queen has borrowed you some of her old dragon riding gear.

Before you depart with Luke, she pulls you aside. "Before you and your father left for Harrenhal, he asked me to look after you if he came to die. I know I haven't always honoured my promise the best I could. Please, be careful out there. I know Alicent has sent her children to get alliances." She gives you a piercing look that makes you nod your head dutifully.

The flight to Storm's End is windy and thunder rumbles in the sky. Once you've arrived, the sharp wind whips through your bones. Luke helps you off Arrax but you stop both in your tracks once you see Vhagar in the distance.

"I am Prince Lucerys Velaryon", begins Luke bravely, stopping in front of the guards. "I bring a message to Lord Borros from the Queen."

The guards nod and turn around, a motion for you to follow them. You grab his hand and squeeze it in reassurance before walking after him in the hall.

Luke approaches Lord Borros, who sits on his throne-like chair at the end of a long hall. Three women stand to the right of him, which you presume are his daughters. To the left stands Aemond, his back turned towards the others as he converses softly with another woman. He glances at the both of you, his eyes keeping trained on you. His jaw is ticked and his single eye is harsh.

A knight announces our arrival as Luke goes to stand in the middle of the hall.

Aemond turns fully, and Luke looks at him almost scared. The white-haired man smirks.

Luke turns back towards the lord on his throne. "Lord Borros... I brought you a message from my mother... the Queen."

Lord Borros does not look amused. "Yet earlier this day, I received an envoy from the King. Which is it? King or Queen? The House of the Dragon does not seem to know who rules it." He laughs, but it's condescending. "What is your mother's message?"

Luke holds out the rolled-up scroll for a guard to take and bring to the Lord. The Lord demands a maester, who reads the written message. He whispers it in the Lord's ear.

The Lord looks pissed. "Remind me of my father's oath? King Aegon at least came with an offer: my sword and banners for a marriage pact. The firstborn of Prince Aemond will marry one of my daughter's descendants. Isn't that right, Lady Strong?"

As suddenly the attention is on you, you still. How dare he, sell my potential babe off to the highest bidder.

"If I do as your mother bids, which one of my daughters will you wed? Boy?"

Without any hesitance, Luke answers, "my lord, I am not free to marry. I'm already betrothed." He looks at Aemond, who still has a smug look on his face. He knows he has won this round.

"So you come with empty hands. Go home, pup. And tell your mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

With a raised chin and taking the harsh words of the Lord like a true Prince. "I shall take your answer to the Queen, my lord."

He turns around and looks at your proud face, he subtly grabs your hands in search of a supporting lifeline. He's just a boy, after all.

But Aemond's, "wait, my Lord Strong", makes you both stop in your tracks.

Walking back, you're ready for the conflict to come.

"Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm, trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?"

Sending a cautious look towards Aemond. "My Prince..."

"I will not fight you. I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

"A fight would be little challenge. No." He reaches up and removes his eyepatch, revealing a sapphire in place of the eyeball he lost. "I want you to put out your eye. That's the least you could do after mutilating me and your sister."

Aemond looks at you now with both of his eyes uncovered, a dangerous gleam in them. This is not the same boy from all those years back you spent in the capital with, who would sit next to you as you both would read. This is not the same man that showed you his tender side in the gardens.

This is a man out for revenge. For blood.

"One is enough. I would not blind you."

"He owes you nothing", you say, standing between Luke and Aemond and pointing the dagger he just threw towards the young prince.

An amused smile grows on his face. "Hm, how brave it is to step in front of your baby brother, Lady Strong. But this is between him and me."

Tightening your grip around the handle, you raise it. "Don't forget, Aemond, I took a blade for you that night. We both are 'mutilated', as you call it. But only one is out for revenge."

As Luke declines behind you, Aemond advances and grabs the hand that holds the blade and holds it up to your neck.

"Than you are craven as well as a traitor, Lord Strong. Give me your eye or your sister dies!", he bellows, pushing the blade so harshly against your skin that it cuts. 

Having enough, you launch your feet backwards and kick him in the nuts. Aemond folds double and you see your escape.

"Luke! Run!", you yell, grabbing his arm and pulling him away.

As you both mouth Arrax, Aemond comes sprinting after you, sword in his hand and rage in his eyes. He himself jumps up on Vhagar.

It has started to storm in the meantime you have been inside, Arrax restless. Luke speaks High Valerian to the dragon before taking off. 

Wrapping your arms tightly around the boy's waist, he looks wildly around him, in search of the large dragon. But it's hard to see anything due to the rain.

Out of nowhere, the largest she-dragon appears, flying above you. She attacks, snapping at the both of you as Aemond's laughter is heard through the clouds. Arrax can barely dodge them. 

A chase starts and Luke sends Arrax down, towards the water. Vhagar is hot on your heels.

Luke sees a cliffside and flies towards it, in the hope of losing Aemond there. It seems to work for a while, as Vhagar is too big for the cracks.

Out of nothing, Arrax turns around and attacks Vhagar. The elder dragon roars angrily, setting in the chase again, this time of her own will.

"The clouds, Luke! Get above the clouds!", you yell, trying to get above the thunder and lightning.

The dragon obeys and you both hold on for dear life as Arrax does his best to gain control over the ancient dragon out to get him.

Finally breaching the clouds, you let out a breath of relief. "Do you see him?"

Luke shakes his head, looking wildly around to spot the dragon. 

Vhagar jumps out of the clouds, her beak open and ready to devour. In his final effort, Luke pushes you off Arrax. As you fall, you watch how Vhagar devours Luke and Arrax, the wings of the beast falling down with you.

You scream, plunging quickly to your death. Arrax's blood hits you in your face as a wing crash against you.

Crashing into the sea, you took your final gasp of air before your lungs fill up with salt water. You try to fight the violent waters, but it was helpless. There was no way you know what is up and what is down.

As you lay helplessly in the last moments of consciousness, accepting your fate, a dark figure enters the water and swims towards you. White hair spread around like a halo, you feel how the person grabs your waist and pulls you up to the surface. Or at least, that is what you think it is doing. For all you care, it could be a siren.

Before your face hits the surface, you close your eyes and let death welcome you.

Taglist: @jeyramarie​ |  @fuckinglittlekitten​ | @neenieweenie​ | @myspotofcraziness​ | @tired-ninfa​ | @yoshiplushie​ | @percyjacksonspeen​ | @lol-im-done​ | @manitskatrina​​ | @myspotofcraziness​​ | @caspianobsessed | @hawsx3 | @green-lxght | @literischdegree99

[flokali]

Boothill and a corrupt USB with a “love virus”… and you’re the poor, unfortunate engineer forced to deal with him in this state, except his little metal heart has gotten too attached to you and the feeling of overbearing longing that you make him feel… on the bright side, your wanted posters look lovely together ♥︎

[shanalikeanna]

Based on Solar Lunacy: Chapter 13 by @bamsara

[babiexiao]

HAND HOLDING WITH THE GENSHIN MEN

contains : fem!reader, smut (yeah this is smutty not soft sry not sry <3 lmaooo), mentions of cervix fucking, size kink, tummy bulges, breeding / impregnation kink, creampies woohoo, oooh the praise in this has me going a lil insane tbh, some degradation too, lots of oral, fingering, soft doms *sniffles* my weakness. includes scenarios for zhongli, kaeya, dain, tighnari, xiao and childe. this is not proof read at all, please ignore any mistakes i will not be fixing them cause i'm lazy :D

i thought about this scenario with xiao and then i spiralled from there. sorry not sorry i needed to get this out of my system actually... i am so unwell bye. likes / reblogs are appreciated and feedback is always welcomed <3 minors dni !!

zhongli : oh he is so big. listen, everythingggggggg about him is big okay, he's literally a dragon like? his hands? big. height? bIG. cock(s)? BIIIIG and he thrives off being big. sinks his cock into you while being in a half dragon form just because his dick is bigger than his human form. golden horns on top of his head, the colour of his skin changing from his normal pale one to somewhat mixed. hues of black, orange, yellow and golden the further you travel down his body. his hands and fingers are slightly longer in this form. nails coloured black, almost resembling claws. he enjoys this form because it lets him keep his human-ness but it also embraces his past. his favourite form when you two get intimate because he wants to see your cunt struggle to take him. "there you go darling, takin' me in so well." he'd whisper as his tip pushes past your entrance, thumb rubbing against your clit. "loosen up for me, that's it." as your cunt begins to flutter around himjdhfhf aaaaa don't even get me started on the bulge he'd make in your tummy :( it's inevitable. he's just so damn big.

favourite position is you on your back, couple of pillows under your body and him holding your waist to raise your lower half off the bed, claws digging into the flesh of your waist as your cunt clenches around his cock. it's only when he's bottomed out and you're bucking your hips to signal him to move that he'd lace his fingers with yours. pins them above your head. have i mentioned zhongli's big? he's so big that he only really requires one hand to have both your wrists in his hold. daddy zhongli is so strong too, doesn't matter how much you move or thrash around when he fucks you, trying to get your wrists out of his hold so you can just touch him, he doesn't budge. waits for you to really beg, tears in your eyes as you sob out "please, please, please" will he soften up. intertwines his fingers with yours as he rocks his hips slower, but sooo deep. leans over to place a kiss to the top of your head while you thank him for letting go, and he does that every time when you two hold hands :( he's so <3 mm yeah best daddy me thinks.

kaeya : this man,, lord kayea is a wild card in my very humble opinion. he's a tease, we all know this. but i think sex to him is so intimate, especially when it's with someone he would give his heart to on a silver platter. he's like the perfect mix of tease and praise and degradation and somehow giving you what you need all at the same time? idk, just listen okay. the word tease might as well just be kaeya's middle name, he's just that good at it. he likes to hear you beg, plays dumb too. "hmm? my sweet little thing, you're so quiet. what did you say, i'm afraid i missed it." all the while he is knuckle deep into your cunt, fingers curling up juuuust right so they nudge your spot. but only just. he knows your body so well it's almost annoying. the curl of his fingers isn't enough to give you proper satisfaction but it is enough to have you crave for more. enough to make you gasp and buck your hips to try and get the satisfaction you need. "ah ah ah, don't be like that. i can't reward you if you're being a needy slut for me darling. use your words." starts withdrawing his fingers and ultimately you need to grab a hold of his wrist and b e g for him not to do that, beg for his touch. it makes his head go a little dizzy if i'm being honest. "there you go. that wasn't so hard now, was it?" and he gives you what you've been needing :( slender, pretty fingers pushing deeper into you till he physically can't anymore. letting them curl against your spongy spot and making you cum with a cry of his name liiike he thrives off teasing you and giving you what you want.

puts his dirty fingers in your mouth while he kisses your stomach, slowly kissing his way up your body (he is a romantic man after all) and makes sure to give your tits a squeeze too. grabs a hold of your chin to make you look at him as you let go of his fingers with a little pop and presses his lips to yours. it's a little messy, slippery and sloppy but you can feel how in love he is with you. spreads your thighs apart so he can press his hard on against your cunt while you kiss, tangles his fingers with yours while he ruts against your centre like he has all the time in the world :(( he takes it sooo slow, grinding against your cunt, the fabric of his boxers rubbing your clit so nicely, his lips against yours, giving your hands a little squeeze as you fiddle around with the elastic on his boxers. he just holds his body weight up with one hand, the other still tangled up with your fingers as you pull down the material just enough to have his cock out and while he fills you up nicely, he just tightens his hold on your hand cause you feel so tight around him every damn time <33

dainsleif : starting this off by saying he is SO touch starved. honorary member of the touched starved crew. he still gets so shy when he sees you naked in front of him no matter how long it's been. dain might look rough and tough on the outside, but he is so soft for you. he adores kisses your body. your lips? he kiss. your cheek? he kiss. top of your head or your nose? he kiss. inside of your wrist where he can get a slight wiff of your perfume? he kiss. but his favourite you may ask? his favourite type (aside from your lips) of kiss is when you're laid out on the bed. where he's between your legs and he's lifting your shirt off, placing kisses along your tummy, the valley of your breasts, then a gentle kiss underneath your earlobe before he's tossing your shirt to the side and making his way down your body again. this time, he places kisses to both your ankles once your pants are off, kissing up both your legs and your thighs. the last kiss he places is to your clit before his thumb presses against your nub, gentle circular motions that already have you seeing stars. dain rests his head against your thigh as he teases and rubs your clit over and over, watching how your hole clenches around nothing.

"always so pretty for me, aren't you?" another soft kiss to your upper thighs that have you wanting to shut your legs at how sensitive you feel. "keep 'em open, that's it. there you go." he'd say, your trembling thighs spreading once again. he's not the best with words of affection but he'll be damned if he doesn't praise you, let you know how pretty you are. how good you are for him. and when your hands clutch his hair and the bedsheets the closer you get to your orgasm, he'd bring the one that was holding the bedsheets closer to his mouth – dain places a kiss to your wrist, to the tips of your fingers before he slides his fingers against it and lets you grip it. he enjoys holding your hand so much while he does this, i cannot stress that enough. he likes it when you feel real. and it's only then, will he place his mouth on your cunt, letting his tongue tease your folds and dipping into your hole to really get a taste of you. feeling a sense of pride when you gasp and whimper out his name, tightening your hold on his hand as the other one still in his hair, buries his face deeper into your pussy.

tighnari : furry king he's so cute, sighs. like kaeya, sex for him is very very intimate with someone he loves. it's not about getting off, it's more so about the gentle touches, the praises that come from both your lips and his, it's about the way you two latch onto each other when you make love and he will die on that hill. yes every now and then, his animalistic urges take over and it is about a quick fuck but more often than not, he likes to explore your body. he loves it when you're straddling him. his favourite thing to do is feel you up while the both of you kiss. even though tighnari takes it slow, his movements almost feel rushed, desperate to have your clothes off. but it's the gentle kind of desperate, you know? where he wants you to be naked so he can appreciate every dip and every curve on your body without any flimsy layers of clothing in the way. hearts in his eyes even though it's the nth time he's seen you naked. you're wearing nothing, seated on his lap while his eyes dart all over your body, never really able to linger on one part for too long. admires how out of breath you are just from a make-out, lips slightly swollen and pinker than usual. continues to place kisses against your jawline to your neck as his hands grope your hips and thighs, eventually one hand inching closer and closer to your heat, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you feel the pad of his thumb finally brush against your clit. "feels good?" he'd mumble against your skin, ears twitching with excitement every time you let out more content noises followed by a soft "yes."

tighnari's good with his fingers, great in fact. he pays attention to your body, listening to every noise and taking mental note of how your body squirms in his hold as he touches you – he's so good that your hands don't really know where they should go. sometimes digging into the skin of his shoulders or his biceps. sometimes when he hasn't riled you up to where the only replies he wets are broken whimpers, they're in tighnari's hair, patting just behind his ears which has him rutting his hips against you, or sometimes they're just tangled in his locks tightly as you need to feel something to ground you. but tighari's favourite is when you plead him for his hand. the little taps against his bicep or wrist make his heart melt, followed by the "hold me, please." it almost makes the animal in him want to manhandle you, toss you on the bed and pin you there while his cock is hitting your cervix and you can't do anything but lay there and just take it. but the rational part of him tells him no. the rational part of him brings your hand to his lips, places a kiss to each and every one of your knuckles before lacing his fingers with yours, all while his other hand is buried knuckle deep in your cunt and being soaked with your juices.

xiao : he is very very very desperate with how he holds your hands. it's more so to remind himself that you're there with him, that you're real. he's a very passionate lover, how could he not be after eons and eons of thinking he's alone? of eons and eons of being alone. he's also a honorary member of the touched starved crew god he is so DJKFDHJGKD i'm so in love w him <333 he just wants to please you okay? like. all the time. every day. whenever you ask him or hint at it, he's ready to give you anything you want. he would do aaaaaanything for you to be honest. he's not very good with words, he knows he's terrible with words. but what he lacks vocally, he makes up for it with his actions instead. slow, but deliberate. almost like he's forgotten all those little stripes and freckles on your skin even though he's been memorising every dip and every mark whenever you two get intimate. gentle, barely there touches while he takes your clothes off, ghosts his fingertips over your pussy and breasts at first. likes it when you inhale sharply but he does give in. he's not much of a tease like kaeya is, gives in so quick. "'m gettin' there. just wait." he'd grumble, but there's no bite behind it all all. places a kiss to your hip bone before he spreads your legs and laps your cunt like a starved man. he's so good with his tongue, i can't stress that enough. another man who makes sure you've came on his tongue or fingers before he thinks about fucking you. the thing about xiao is, he gets pussy drunk so quick, and so very easily. the second he hears you let out a sigh of satisfaction after his mouth is on you, he's gone.

he's soo gone. xiao is an adepti, he's much stronger than humans. it's super easy for him to hold your body down with his hands, whether they be on you waists or even hooked around your thighs, he's not moving his mouth off you until he feels your hole clenching and gushing. or unless you're trying to pry his head off cause you "wan' be filled, please xiao!" flips you onto your back and makes sure your face is pressed into the mattress and your ass is up ohh my goddjghf yeah,, fucks you like that actually, he's pussy drunk. let him bury his cock in your cunt any way he wants plssss. he may not be long, but fuck is he thick. makes you clench the bedsheets while your noises are muffled out by the bed but :( xiao needs to hear you – tugs your back flush against his chest, makes his cock go even deeper in you that you're going dizzy and you're even more dizzier when you feel his fingers on your clit aaaa. firm believer xiao uses one hand too rub your clit while the other turns your head towards him so he can kiss you :(( he loves kissing you so much when you're fucking, tries to kiss you every time before you cum on his cock. it's so romantic for him. feels you cum around his cock and he's trying to hold back a groan but but but that's when he moves his hand that was on your clit to hold yours :( still kissing you too till he orgasms and spills his cum deeep in you and makes out with you for a couple of minutes. doesn't really care how sloppy it is, he just likes kissing you while you hold hands like that :((

childe : listen... childe is actually so romantic (we'll get there soon) i dunno about you. hand holding is his middle name, it's true i've seen the birth certificate. a romantic, mean perv is the best way to describe him. such a tease too. he won't give you what you need till he sees tears in your eyes or you actually start crying. he's kinda mean about it too. gets you sooo close to an orgasm only to just rip it away. "nawww, you cryin sweets?" and proceeds to lick your tears away. "don't cry, you pretty thing. gonna give you what you need, 'kay? just lay back f'me. there you go." smiles darkly when you listen to him again and lay your body flat against the bed again while shaking. and he just keeps doing that until you're full blow sobbing. "aj– ha– 'jax! please.. can' take it a'more... need to c-cum please." and watches you grip his wrists while you cry. it sets him off. he loves that you can get so pathetic for him :( some days when he's made you cry by not letting you cum, his favourite this is having you on top. just to add a little bit more humiliation into the mix. lays down first and gets all comfy without telling you what he's doing and just pats his lap. "not gonna get over here? thought you wanted to cum." has you scrambling over and once you're straddling him he'd put his hands on your thighs and just stroke them since they're shaking so much. but gives them a little slap, just enough for there to be a sound but not enough to hurt when he feels you try to lift your hips to take his cock in "relax baby. didn't i say i'm gonna give you what you need?" hhhh and when your thighs have calmed down and he's made your lips all swollen from kissing you so much will he lift your hips for you, letting you guide his cock into your hole and gives you time to get used to the stretch when he's bottomed out.

while you're taking your time and breathing whilst trying to hold back the orgasm that's approaching once being filled up, he'd let his fingertips trail up your arm, hand cupping the side of your face and rubbing his thumb along your lash line to gather the tears that haven't fallen yet and makes you suck the saltiness away from his thumb... and that makes his cock twitch in you. doesn't let you move though, wants to see how ruined you look before he's even fucked you right. and once he's admired you enough he'd go "c'mere sweets." and proceeds to hold out his hand for you. coos at how your hand is sooo tiny in his though. and he lets his other arm wrap your lower back, essentially he has you resting your head against his tits while you two hold hands. it's gentle, a contrast to how he was being mean to you earlier. as you grind on his cock and the little tufts of hair on his lower tummy make you cum around his cock, he brings your intertwined hands to his mouth and places a kiss to the back of your hand and bucks his hips up into your pussy to get to his high. but the thing is, once ajax feels soft like this, he'd just keep you above him, kiss you and keep holding your hands till he's hard again and fuck you till your lower halves are all messy and sticky.