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myouicieloz · 11 months

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Heads will roll

Kim Minjeong x aespa 5thmember!reader

Synopsis: Your girlfriend promised you it was ok for you to match with your best friend, Yuna, for the upcoming Halloween party. However, with how she’s behaving all night, you simply had to drag her to and empty room and punish her.

Warnings: smut. sub!minjeong x dom!reader

Word count: 4.4k lol sorry

Notes: HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!! I’ve tried my best but the verbs might still be all wrong… I hope u enjoy, tho!! ^^ i rlly like halloween kisses mwuah

You spent the whole evening apart from your best friends and bandmates, shooting your solo pictures for the group’s latest comeback. Since you were the last one to do so, you asked them to get back to the dorm and get ready for Ryujin’s party without you. You’d see each other soon enough, anyway, so it wasn’t that big of a deal.

They sent you countless pictures of them getting ready, and your heart ached to be making funny group memories with them, instead of taking a thousand pictures in a cold studio. It was for work, though, so you’d just have to deal with it.

After what it seemed like ages, your photoshoot was finally over, and you quickly made your way to the dorm to shower and get ready. It sucked to do your makeup by yourself, since Giselle always did it for you, and to not curl Ningning’s hair just as she liked it, but it was either that or you’d all be terribly late for the party, and no one would have that.

Ryujin’s Halloween party was one of the most expected events of the year, so, naturally, no one would want to be late. The girl knew how to host a party— it always had sickening decor, lots of creative and delicious drinks and, most important, secrecy. None of what you did ever got leaked, to ensure the guests always had a good time.

Which you always, always did.

“Woah!” You whistled as you entered Ryujin’s living room, getting the attention of your bandmates. They smiled at you, waving and calling you over.

The four girls were impeccable, each one looking just as gorgeous as ever: Giselle was dressed as a sexy jaguar, wearing a tight jumper with little feline ears; Ningning opted to go as a corpse bride, although her bloodied, ripped wedding dress barely reached her knees; Karina, as a pirate, hat carefully placed in her hands; and at last, your sweet girlfriend, looking lavish as Alice in Wonderland.

You smiled at the sight of her beautiful face, promptly reaching out to hug her, but Winter was having none of it. She didn’t push you, naturally, but her face was all flustered, and she looked livid, frowning as she checked you out.

“Is that really why you didn’t match with me?” Winter asked, offended. She was judging your Lara Croft costume with hard eyes, even though they lingered on the leather belt you wore for a tad too long. There were fake guns attached to them, too, and your hair was braided into two elaborate pieces all by yourself, your skillfulness making the hairstyle neat and composed, not a single strand out of place.

“We’ve had this conversation before.” you reminded her, ever so patient— being used were used to her defensiveness. Besides, you knew you looked good; a little harsh look from your girlfriend wasn’t going to smash out your confidence, “I had already promised Yuna I’d match with her. She arranged our costumes and everything months ago, remember?”

Winter rolled her eyes, murmuring something too low for you to hear, but visibly still annoyed, regardless of your explanation.

You did warn your girlfriend that you’d be matching with your best friend for Halloween, just like you always did ever since you could remember. However, Winter hoped you’d notice her subtle signs and realize she wanted you to match with her, as a couple, instead. After all, it was your first Halloween together, and Winter wanted it to be special.

“You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Yeah, whatever.” She brushed past you, scoffing. You could tell she was very much pissed by the way she stomped through your friends, mixing herself a drink with too much alcohol in it, as she completely turned her back to you.

It was quite unusual for her to drink, but you’ve gotten on her nerves enough to make Winter want to relieve some stress. It bothered her to have you choosing Yuna-subaenim over herself, your girlfriend, no matter how hard she tried to shake the venomous feeling off.

Naturally, Winter knows it’s silly to feel this insecure and jealous over a stupid costume, specially since you and Yuna have been friends since your rookie days— and you’ve only been dating for a couple of months.

Nonetheless, Winter can’t help but to be sulky besides Karina, downing her cup in a few, long gulps. She doesn’t even dislike Yuna, even though she wasn’t exactly friends with the girl, either. Winter found her kind and lovable enough, with her long hair and composed, yet bubbly remarks.

It simply unsettled your girlfriend, to see you matching with Yuna when she was so excited about your first Halloween together. You were Winter’s first partner, and the thought of wearing matching outfits had her all month wondering what to pick. There were just so many cool options, and she was so excited… Which was why having you mention Yuna had already bought you identical costumes— just like she did every year, as long as Winter could remember, — was like a bucket of cold water being thrown in her head.

Of course, had your girlfriend told you wearing couple outfits to the party was that important to her, you would’ve simply brushed Yuna off, claiming you’d comply with your girlfriend’s wishes this year. However, she said nothing, so you naturally didn’t think much of it, brushing it off.

However, Winter felt a bitter taste in her mouth as she stared at you and Yuna, looking pretty much like twins if it weren’t for you towering over the girl, hair much longer and darker. It was as though she were fighting her first battle, a silent, passive one with your best friend, and she had just lost.

Winter really wasn’t going to hide her pout for the rest of the night. She’d allow herself that, at least.

Your girlfriend behaves like nothing but a fucking brat the whole afternoon.

She makes sure to be extra touchy with people— much unlike her nature, laughing hard and smiling at whatever it is that Jaehyun was saying. The boy was as boring as they came, and she’d stopped listening to his ramble minutes ago. Now, her eyes were trained on you, with every action calculated to bring you to the edge. From the way her slick fingers traced his skin, to her leaning to listen better, since the music is so loud, isn’t it?

You let her be, allowing Winter to celebrate her little tantrums alongside her members. Despite her obvious confrontation with you, she genuinely seems to be enjoying herself: laughing, drinking and joking with the girls and other close friends on the dance floor. So you let her have her little victory, observing from afar as you enjoy your night just the same; Even though your eyes narrow once you feel her subtly— almost unnoticeably, ducking from your touch, when you join the girls after hanging out with your other friends for a while.

In fact, Winter’s cold shoulder gave you plenty of time to think about the ways you’d punish her for her foolish behavior. You licked your lips at the thought of having little Alice in Wonderland all spread open just for you, crying as you deny her orgasms over and over until her pretty, abused cunt is all red and sore, drenching and clenching over the slightest brush of your fingers. It’d be such a heavenly sight: the girl on all fours, screaming and pleading for you to touch her anywhere, to do anything to her or else she’d explode.

However, you remain composed, your face giving none of your impurities away as you twist the ice in your whiskey and patiently listen to whatever funny story is being told by Chaeryeoung in the corner you all stand. You could feel the avalanche of thoughts and ideas going over and over through your mind, aching to make your girlfriend wither and destroy her petite body, as you made sure to let her know who possessed her in every way.

Meanwhile, Winter was walking through a dangerous path, she knew it as much. The feeling of your eyes poking wholes on her back was dense enough to send electric shocks through her entire body, and she was well aware of you watching her every move. She smiled to herself, glad to have your full attention despite feeling like such a loser, earlier. The thought of being punished for all of her bratty actions, too, aroused her perhaps a bit too much to keep her from being good. So she closed her eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and smiled again, humming to herself as she knew her night was barely getting started.

“Hey, if you’d like we could, ahn, keep our conversation somewhere quieter…” Winter heard Jaehyun say, lips dangerously close to her ear. She was about to brush him off when he was abruptly shoved backwards, and soon enough she felt a strong grip on her waist.

She couldn’t contain a smile, hearing your harsh voice echoing from above her tiny frame.

“I suggest you keep your _hands_ to yourself, subaenim, if you want them intact.” You growled, turning your girlfriend to you as you pushed her upstairs, opening doors until you found an empty room. You shoved Winter on the bed without delicacy, smiling slightly to see her bounce a little on the mattress, in response to your touch. She was so petite—even now, staring at you behind her lashes.

“Fucking whore.” You cursed, taking your time unbuckling your numerous belts as she stared at you, licking her lips at the sight of your hands putting on work. She needed them on herself, immediately. “Throwing yourself at that fucker like a cheap slut. I guess that is just what you are, right?” You said, gripping her face. “A cheap fucking slut.”

Winter’s pupils were as blown out as yours, and her heart was beating so loud she was sure it echoed loudly through the bedroom. It was so hot for her to have you like this: mad out of your mind, handling her like a doll. It was a deep contrast from your caring, worried nature, one that she loved to experience from time to time. And the best part was that she got to have this feral side of you all to herself. You were hers, and hers alone.

No stupid fucking costume would change that.

She nodded as best as she could, since your touch was strong in order to keep her still.

“Say it.”

“I’m just a cheap slut.” Her reply came immediately, as Winter’s eyes remained locked on your face.

You kissed her deeply in response, exploring all the possible places of her mouth. Your hands went down her neck, blocking her airways just enough to make your girlfriend sigh, lightheaded.

“Perfect, baby.” You praised, sucking on her pulse point. “And who owns you?”

Winter’s hands found their way to yours, even though her touch wasn’t meant to make you stop.

She simply had to feel you, to have your skin on hers. It was a necessity to taste you and to have you taste her, too. It was taking you too long to touch her, already: she was feeling like her whole body was going to explode.

“You, unnie.” She breathed.

You stopped your work on her neck, now sucking at her earlobe as you whispered. “Just that? I’m starting to think you don’t want me to do anything to you at all; you just wanted to fuck that stupid ass guy to piss me off.”

She whined as you distanced yourself, opening her legs so you could place yourself between them. She looked like a painting, with her shoulder-length hair all disheveled and flustered face, trying to gather her breath and her thoughts. You allowed her to do so, squeezing and brushing your hands up and down her thighs while waiting for her next move.

As if Winter could ever concentrate with you touching her like that.

Pulling you by your pants—she couldn’t help but to look for your belt, biting her cheek to keep a smile from adorning her face as she found it in your hands, already—she pleaded. “Please, mommy,” She opened her legs even more, with her hands on your neck to kiss you again, “I’ve been so bad tonight… please, please punish me.”

You smiled, thinking about all the ways you’d ruin her through the night. She was so beautiful, so eager to surrender herself to you completely. It warmed your heart with both desire and lust, to know you had her to yourself.

“You’ll be well punished, Minjeongie. Don’t worry,” You promised, leaving wet kisses against her shoulders. “I’ll ruin you, so you’re reminded to not even look at anyone else, my love. You’re fucking mine.”

As you shared another wet, lustful kiss, Minjeong couldn’t help but to feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

You interlock her wrists with one of your belts, wiggling it to make sure it wasn’t too tight on the girl’s skin; just enough to make it a slightly ache. “Do you know your words?”

“Yes.”

“And what will you do if you want me to stop?”

“I’ll use them.” She assured you, nodding.

“Very well, then,” You took her in, looking so pretty messed up like that. You’d have to leave her like that more. “On your fours.”

Winter got half-up, cocking her head to the sides as she sent you a confused look. You were both still all dressed up. Had you forgotten about that detail, perhaps?

“Dress stays on,” You mumbled, groping her body through the fabric. “You look too pretty in that outfit. It nearly made me fuck you in the middle of the room, for everyone to see, when I first saw you.”

She giggled, delighted to have your praises. Her face was met with a pout soon after, though, as she sighed, defiantly. “If only you’d matched with me, instead of that bi—”

Winter lets out a loud grasp once you turn her around, adjusting her body roughly on your thighs.

“Shut the fuck up.” You told her. “Toys don’t talk. Specially ones that behaved so poorly the whole night.” Pushing her tiny dress up, you gave her ass a good squeeze. “Now, count. 10 for each cheek, since I’m feeling patient, for now.”

Winter couldn’t suppress the shiver that went through her body as she heard your words. She bit her lips, not wanting to let you see how much your tone aroused her; so drenched already, and you’ve only made out for a few minutes.

“O-one,” She took a deep breath as you went on, kissing her back and her ass until you’d finished, your hands’ impressions well painted on her milky skin. “T-two…”

You were surprised she didn’t lose count, not even once, even though her face was already glistening with a few tears, and she was shaking her head vigorously. “T-ten!”

You let out a proud smirk once you got her spankings over with, helping her up. “You did good, love.” You assured your girlfriend, kissing her gently to make sure she wasn’t overwhelmed. You let Winter take some time to breathe, nodding as she got her body closer to yours as much as she could, since her hands were still locked up.

Winter was always needy and touchy. You laugh at her exasperate touches, kissing her as you guide her body to lay on the bed completely. You tear down panties with hunger, soon taking out her white stockings, too, until you manage to push up the skirt of her dress and leave her cunt bare, inviting you over.

“You look so pretty, love. All dolled up and ready for me. So fucking hot tonight, baby.”

All she could do was nod, lost in pleasure as you kiss along her thighs. She instantly opens them more, hoping you’d mark them —just as you both liked it. You took your time pinching, sucking and bruising her perfect skin, enjoying the sound of the pornographic moans that left her mouth. You were drenched yourself, too, at the sight of your pretty girlfriend’s face as she lets out incoherent cries and whines.

Your fingers brush her cunt, never more than a light tease over her heated body as you add, “Wearing this little dress like the whore you are. Do you even have any idea of how delicious you look right now? Of how many people ogled you all night, desperate to touch you?” You giggled to yourself at the sound of her frustrated huffs, tracing your fingers to her slit before giving her pussy a long lick, “They can’t, though. You’re all mine. Mine to mark, mine to toy with. My doll.”

She couldn’t even answer as you dive in, sucking her pretty cunt vigorously as Winter wriggles and tries her best to get a hold of your hair, which makes you nibble your teeth though her sex, provoking her.

“M-more, more, mommy. Please! Oh shit—“ She was a mess, feeling even more as if she were going to erupt. Your hands kept touching her everywhere, with your nails leaving long, red lines from her forearms to the ends of her thighs.

As you kept on with an even faster rhythm, you could feel her inner walls clenching and her eyes starting to close in pleasure. So, naturally, you subsided your movements, allowing Winter’s cunt no more than a few kitten licks. She opened her eyes immediately, looking at you so adorably confused and frustrated.

“Do you really think you deserve to cum, my sweet?” Your fingertips entered her hole just enough so you could gather some of her wetness and taste it yourself, giving her sex a light slap. It made her joint, and you smiled at how sensitive she was, all bruised and marked. “With how much of an ungrateful slut you’ve been all night, hiding from my touches and presenting yourself to others…”

Still, she shook her head vigorously, “I’ll make it up to you, mommy, I promise.” Winter pleaded, with her best, sweetest voice. “Let me cum, please! Even though I don’t deserve it.”

Her obvious attempts to get herself off made you scoff, although you positioned yourself between Winter’s small body once again. She was your little doll, after all, so pretty dressed up as Alice in Wonderland.

And you have all the time in the world to edge her until she’s a withering mess, at the dorms, anyway.

Positioning your index and middle finger on her entrance, you brushed her hair off her face. “Work for it then, doll. If you want to get off so bad, do it.”

Winter’s eyes widened at your suggestion, and she let her shoulders down at the thought of having to do all the work. She’d never done such a thing, specially since you were always so eager to be the cause of her moans as she fell into pieces. As she opened her mouth to whine again, though, a simple look from you shut her out: the girl immediatly knew it was either that or nothing. Logically, your girlfriend bit her lip, pressing herself against your fingers as she felt the feeling of them in her tight cunt. She let out a loud moan, fucking herself on your fingers until the knot on her stomach soon presented itself back.

“Stop staring at me like that.” She said, looking the other way to not acknowledge you observing her, since she couldn’t push you herself. You curled your fingers inside of her, giggling at her little screams and surprised huffs.

“But you look so pretty, specially like this. Only for me.” You were making your best to follow through your words, even though Winter’s sounds and movements were making you crazy. You simply needed to grab her pretty little waist and take her until she was really screaming, crying loudly for you to stop.

However, you had to be patient, or else your girlfriend wouldn’t be taught her lesson. One she so desperately needed, so she would communicate to you better.

“Only for you, always.” She promised, her breathing erratic as she twitched under you. “Mommy, I’m gonna—please, please, let me cum.”

“Do it, love. You can cum, now.” You smiled, kissing Winter’s thighs as you bit them gently.

That did it for her; with a loud cry, she came all over your hand, trying to get your fingers off her pussy once she got too sensitive. You retrieved your fingers, sucking them clean as Winter gestured for you to set her hands free, which you promptly did. She immediately went to your lap, wrapping her fingers around your neck as she marked your skin, just as you had done to her, earlier.

“Thank you mommy.” She murmured, still light-headed and needy from her orgasm. You loved how dependent she got afterward, always requiring many cuddles and kisses after you fucked. You loved your girlfriend deeply, and she’d always be the number one in your life. “I wore the dress just for you, you know? I saw your look when we passed by the costume shop.”

You hummed, throwing your head slightly to allow Winter to suck on your neck as she liked to, “You’re such a little evil being, Minjeong.” She giggled, trailing kisses through your face until she captured your mouth, pulling you in for a long, slow kiss.

“I’m only yours.” She moved her bangs out of her face. “Are you only mine, too?”

“Of course, baby.” You frowned, squeezing her tiny waist to assure her of so. “I belong to you, just as you belong to me.”

“Good.” She whispered, feeling relieved to have that envious feeling finally off her shoulders. She didn’t master the courage to look at you, as she added. “I just wish we had matched, tonight.”

You held her even closer, kissing both of her cheeks repeatedly. “We will, next year. Ok?” You winked, managing to get a smile from her at the subtle promise. “You have to tell me when something’s bothering you, baby. I thought you were cool with me matching with Yuna and all.”

“I thought I was cool with it, too.” She shrugged, kicking her feet. “But I guess I wasn’t.”

You kissed her once again, hoping to have her know how much you loved her.

“It’s all good now, though. Come on, the party’s still going. Let’s head back?”

Winter’s head cocked to the side at your words, and soon her hands were toying with the hem of your crop top. She smirked, trying to look as innocent as she could at the thought of keeping you all to herself.

“Not yet… still want to get more of what’s mine, then.” You smiled back at the auburn haired girl, placing your arms up to allow her to get rid of the piece. “Besides, you’ve made me do all the work just now… I think I deserve a compensation.”

You scoffed, but pushed Winter’s body back on the bed just the same. You were her girlfriend, after all. You’d always spoil her rotten and indulge to her wishes.

“Bratty ass.”

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jacespookiebear · 1 year

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ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 7

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, sexual content, age gap (reader is about 2-3 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Masterlist

It was the big day. Your wedding. Well you could say your weddings. You had decided to keep it quick, you would marry under the seven while you were all still in King’s Landing. The happiest look on your step-mother’s face when you said this, smothering you in kisses before letting you be attended by Lysanna.

“How are you feeling?” Lysanna asked, placing your hair in a pretty hairstyle with braids crowning your head with the silver snood tucked underneath that she placed on your hair, curling all of the hair that was left down with her hands. You took a deep breath in to breath it all out, you were getting married in an hour, you never felt so nervous in your entire life. But it wasn’t official until you got married at Dragonstone. This could be seen as practice, except it was seen as real to your step-mother.

Lysanna helped you of your night gown and started lacing the wedding gown tight around your waist, it looked marvelous. “I am alright. I do hope it’ll be quick.” you answered, playing with your rings once again, twisting them up and down your fingers.

Lysanna let out a “hmph” before talking, “You truly look like a Princess on her wedding day.” The words danced around your mind, the anxiety wasn’t going down anytime soon. “Drink some water, please.”

About to ask if Lysanna needed help with changing once you sipped out of your cup but noticed quickly that she had already finished readying herself. You both walked to the celebration hall instead of the Sept. You let Lysanna enter the hall to join the rest of your family, you were waiting for your father to join you by your side, “my sweet daughter, you look beautiful.” he kissed your cheek as your handmaiden came over to place your House colors cloak around your shoulders, it had your sigil as well. The doors had opened and everyone turned to see who was revealed, you stepped inside to begin walking towards your soon-to-be-husband. Both of your families separated on each side, feeling a tug at your hand, you turned to your father who gave you a smile to which you return with a slight one. Your main focus was on Jace, his attire contained of black and gold, the gold appeared to be more darker than the gold that was on your dress. His jewelry seemed to ones that were once owned by his father, the sapphires and emeralds shining from the light on the windows.

He looked very dashing and seemed like Daemon had to help which made you smile even more. You had arrived walking down the aisle and stood next to Jace, he held no smile or emotion on his face. You understood why, he’s forced into a wedding he had no desire for. He held dislike for the Faith and you knew this. Your guilt was starting to come back.

You kept your eyes on the Septon who spoke for minutes that seemed like hours about the Faith and how you should devote yourself to the Seven. You turned to look over to your family, your sisters were smiling ear to ear and looking genuine. Daeron was also smiling and only nodded towards you once you gazed at him, mouthing to you, “you’ll be okay.” Aemond looked rather emotionless to you as well, you planned on speaking to him before you would have to leave. As for Aegon, he was staring off to space and not caring for the wedding at all, he was absolutely drunk and everyone could tell from the way he was always losing balance until Otto shoved him to act right. Daemon was holding onto Luke and Rhaena to keep them by his side while the Septon was speaking, you swore you saw Rhaena squeezing Daemon’s arm.

It had finally came to taking off your cloak. You gently took off the cloak by yourself, not wanting to worry your father since he already had use most of strength to walk you down and give you away. You folded it slowly, setting it on the ground next to you and Jace.

As well as Jace took off his cloak, with House Velaryon and Targaryen colors and their sigils on the cloak, he draped it over your shoulders. You held the cloak close to you, not wanting to let it go. After placing the cloak on you, he spoke his vows, “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lady and wife,” he finished.

You gave him a genuine smile before starting your vows, “With this kiss I pledge my love and take you for my lord and husband.” The Septon now granted you both were married, “You are one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever,” he finished, closing the book. You both connected hands and slowly, you reached to kiss him on the lips. It was more of a peck than a kiss, it was your first kiss— you had no idea what you were doing. Lowering your head in embarrassment, trying to hide your head away from him but it did not help.

Alicent was the first to clap, smiling happily during the whole ceremony. Everyone all followed to clap but not as enthusiastically as your step-mother. You and Jace walked down together, hand-in-hand, not making any effort to speak to one another. You separated ways to head to your chambers to change, you were traveling back to dragonstone for your real wedding that was happening rather very soon. Though, this time it’ll only be you, Jace, and the rest of Rhaenyra’s family that will be attending.

So once you changed into your evening gown, you left the room as Lysanna called out your name, confused on where you’re going. You began to look around the castle for Aemond. To finally talk to him, to finally hug him, to finally-

“Sister?” Aemond called out, suspiciously, you turned to look to your side and found him standing by the corridors. His eyepatch was black, as dark as the midnight sky, his hair was getting more longer and his scar was healing day by day. He was getting older, and you weren’t here to see it. Immediately, you reached over and hugged him tightly. Sighing into the hug, he was rather left confused as you began to mumble.

“I have wanted to hug you ever since I arrived. Why have you been avoiding me, Aemond?” Removing yourself from his warmth, you stared into your brother’s eye, he pursed his lips and stared at his feet instead. Still grasping both of his hands and searching his face for an answer.

“I was afraid that..” he mumbled, afraid to finish his sentence. “that you have hated me after what had happened.” Finally answered, your eyes filling with tears and took him back into your arms. On your tippy toes, placing wet kisses all over his head, you knew he hated being babied by you but he let you do so. “My sweet brother, I could never hate you. You are my young brother and now we both ride the eldest dragons.” Holding his chin between your fingers, he no longer possessed chubby cheeks, his jawline was more defined.

The thought of you both riding Vhagar and Meraxes in glory was a great one, Aemond rubbed his thumbs on your waist as to soothe you both. “Marriage does not suit you, sister.”

You shook your head at his statement, you knew that as well. Your marriage was falling apart already, even your brother could see it. “I know.”

“It’ll get easier,” he muttered, “I shall be here for you.”

“Thank you.” you calmly said. Exchanging final goodbyes, you hugged him one last time. Your luggages were already packed since last night and they were out in the carriage. You bid farewell to your other family members, especially Helaena who had just received news from the maester that she was pregnant, you felt so distraught and disgusted that you can’t be here to help her. She was younger than you and was already having children. Promising her that she could arrive on dragonback to dragonstone anytime if she needed you or Rhaenyra.

“I’m so glad I got to see you sister,” Helaena whispered, the sadness was wretching your heart, at that moment you wished you could ask Rhaenyra if you could stay in King’s Landing just for a few months but you knew that was less likely to happen.

Giving her cheek a long and deep kiss before parting, “My sweet, you will see me again.” You felt like you were reassuring yourself more than to Helaena.

The ride back to dragonstone was a long and silent one. Rhaenyra and Daemon stayed inside the boat while you watched over Luke, Rhaena, and Liz who were playing with the wooden figures that belonged to Luke. All of your dragons flying above your boat, screeching to each other. You were nearly five feet away from Jace, sitting by the chairs that were next to the crashing waves, neither of you speaking. The silence was killing you, he was making no effort to talk to you but you could say the same for yourself.

You were wishing you were riding on Meraxes right now, you barely had any time now with her and you knew she missed you deeply. The ever so elegant dragon would always wail outside of dragonstone for your attention, poor girl, she was getting old and your time with her was ticking. But, she wasn’t alone. She was spending most days with Vermax, who would always try to play with her, her patience always ran out quick with the smaller dragon but would usually let him lay with her after he hunts dinner around the island for her.

Finally for what felt like hours, you all arrived on dragonstone. Letting Rhaenyra and Daemon step out of the boat first, you came out second while helping the younger kids. Turning to look over at the rocks, the preparations for your wedding were being made and they were quick with it. You were feeling rushed to change, you wanted to take it all slowly, this was your actual wedding and yet you weren’t as excited as you hoped to be.

Being rushed into a bath once you entered your chambers, your handmaidens were scrubbing you down harshly, making you moan and wince in pain as they mutter their apologies for being quick and rough. Their hands were forcing you into many positions to scrub other parts of your body, Lysanna was by your side, washing your hair with much more of a gentle touch and rinsing off the suds with colder water.

“Careful! Her skin is tender now!” Lysanna scolded the handmaidens, who were smearing your now smooth skin from the endless scrubbing with rose oil. They were all treating you like a child taking a bath for the first time, you were overwhelmed by how much a hurry they seemed to be. It felt like your wedding was already happening while you were still naked.

You mindlessly stared outside the huge window, silencing biting your lip from how cold their hands felt on your skin, they were making sure you smelled lovely like usual— lathering you in so much scented oils, you felt yourself almost become lightheaded from the varieties of smells. Though, you appreciated the massaging your young handmaiden was doing on your shoulders.

But you couldn’t stop the chills that wouldn’t leave your body, shivering with your teeth clattering. Lysanna wrapped yourself in your robe to pat the wetness down. “You all may leave now. I’ll handle her wedding robes.” Lysanna ordered, the handmaidens bowed and left your chambers for you to finish being attended to.

“Aw, Y/n! They’re lovely.” In her hands were the robes you would wear to your wedding. Not paying attention like Liz was, still looking out the window until she forced your attention back. Blinking your eyes to see clearly, you were struck with awe, the seamstress seemed to add more details to them. They were still the dark blue and black color you had tried on. The ends were blue but as they traveled up it became darker then black at the upper body area, The end of the robes, the arms, and the top of the first layer, were covered in the dark blue color but had Meraxes and Vermax sewed in.

“She added the dragons..” you breathlessly sighed, holding the robes in your hands.

Lysanna nodded without speaking another word, turning to untie your bath robes and left it laying on the ground. Making sure your body was dry enough, she wrapped the upper robes around you, tying the fabric to tighten your waist, adding the last layer over your stomach and shoulders, letting the black belt wrapped around the ends of the first layer to blend in. Finally, she had adjusted the lower bottoms of the robes to reach your feet, just in case you weren’t able to walk freely in it.

“You look like an Old Goddess,” she breathed, you were almost convinced to believe her once you saw yourself in the mirror, but you realized the headpiece was missing.

Turning around to look around for it but Lysanna caught on and stopped you, adding the silvery headpiece on top of your head. She decided to leave your hair unstyled, your natural curls were already making you look so beautiful.

Again you looked in the mirror, you looked ethereal. The headpiece was adding everything together. And Lysanna couldn’t agree more, standing by your side with her hands clasped together, she looked happy for you. You both were interrupted by the at knock at your door, revealing your sister. She was struck from your beauty, her face could show it.

Rhaenyra walked to you and Lysanna, kissing your cheeks softly, “Oh, my sweet sister. You look so magnificent.” Her eyes were becoming watery, “You look perfect,” she insisted, smoothing her palms on your cheeks, “Jacaerys will fall to his knees once he sees you.”

You choked on what to say. Instead, pulling her into a hug, gently to not hurt the baby. She chuckled, “I love you, sister.”

“And I love you too, sister.” you answered her, you were afraid of what she will say once she found out you and Jace were in a rocky relationship right now. But you didn’t want to think about that right now. Your mind was mainly focus on the wedding that was about to happen.

“It is time,” she said quietly, eyes meeting yours. She left your embrace to exchange some words with Lysanna, they both smiled warmly to each other until she left a kiss on Lysanna’s forehead.

Taking huge breaths of air, Lysanna and your sister walked you to the rocks by the shore, you heard waves crashing as you walked closer and closer to the rocks. Jace was already there with Luke, Rhaena, and Daemon present, Daemon helping him with his robes before walking over to help Rhaenyra go down the steps carefully.

You met Jacaerys in the middle of the ceremony, the same place that took place for Rhaenyra and Daemon’s wedding as well, the Septon was standing there with a dagger and chalices on the rock table for you both. The anxiety of having to cut each other’s arms and lips came to you, you began pinching your arm to ease your nerves. Jace noticed this and rubbed your arm to comfort you.

You turned to look at him, his eyes fell onto you. You couldn’t help but melt at the fact that he was possibly warming up to you, just a little. As you all listened to the words of the Septon, you mindlessly dozed off again until he handed Jace the dagger, you were rather scared. Scared to be cut and with full warning and intent as well, he tried calming you once more by pinching your lips to make the cut so you wouldn’t feel it as much. The cut was small but deep enough for blood to draw. You appreciated the fact he did this to help you, you felt tears swelling in your eyes as you made eye contact with him, nodding to him that you were fine— he looked stoic but you knew he was nervous, afraid those were tears of pain. He then brought his remaining hand to place his thumb to your lips, collecting the blood and tracing the liquid on your forehead. His eyes were watching for any sign of discomfort from you but you only nodded again and smiling to reassure him once him.

Once he had finished, he handed you the dagger, and you repeated what he had just did. If he was nervous, you were 10x nervous, shaking as you made the cut on his lip, you made sure it was a light scratch but still, worried as you cupped his face to apologize. As if he was still a child who was hurt during training but your imagination disappeared once he placed his hand on your hand— to let you know he’s fine. You ran your thumb over his lips, smearing the blood to make sure you grabbed enough. You drew a symbol on his forehead, once you finished, you sighed with relief that it was over. You felt good, the hard part was over.

The Septon then handed your lover the chalice. You took the dagger and began cutting at your left palm, wincing in pain from the deep cut you had made. You were never good with pain, realizing you had a low tolerance to pain compared to your family, always have been. With the pain lingering as you squeezed your hand over the chalice, you wanted to wince in pain, letting your blood drip into to the cup. Jace repeated what you did after handing your other hand the chalice for you to hold, he held no reaction once he cut into his right palm unlike you, you were almost envious that he didn’t feel no pain. You could hear Luke, in the background, hissing from the amount of blood that was being shed. You put the cup under his hand as he squeezed, your blood mixing with his in the chalice.

Began to drink from the chalice after speaking repeated vows from the Septon. The taste was bitter and very much like iron, you were not disgusted by it, it was rather natural considering you have the blood of the dragon. Dragons drink blood, afterall. Finishing your sip, you gave it to your lover. Though, you were rather okay with the taste, Jace wasn’t. His face screwed with bitterness and slightly squinted from the horrible taste, you wanted to giggle at his reaction but remained composed.

With blood coating his lips and tongue, he then brought his hand to cup your cheek once more before leaning in to kiss you. More confident than the last time, you leaned in as well. Your lips connecting and this time, you dipped your head back to kiss him once more, pressing your bloodied lips onto his soft ones— cupping both of his cheeks with your hands, staining his right cheek with blood from your cut.

Jace was rather confused from your sudden kiss, part of him wanted discontinue it for that he was still upset with you but this was something he had longed for years. The feeling of your lips was becoming addicting to him, his eyes immediately closing and savoring the taste of your lips. Forgetting that your family was behind you, he pulled you closer to him, his arms around your waist so protectively, he was scared to let you go. You both finally parted to breathe, panting heavily as you looked back into his now opened eyes, your lips were swollen from the long kiss and immediately created distance from him, afraid you crossed the line of boundaries.

As you were about to apologize, you heard claps being made by Rhaena and Luke. Realizing they were all there and watched the passionate kiss, you panicked and became even more embarrassed. You couldn’t really the say the same for Jace, instead of embarrassment— you swore you saw lust in his eyes, like he was about to kiss you again.

“Let’s wash your face and have you ready for supper!” Lysanna interrupted your intimate thoughts, as you wiped the smear blood on your looks, you were being scurried back into the castle while your eyes were trained on Jace, you neither spoken a word to him throughout the weddings or the trip back but you were able to speak so much through your actions.

Lysanna brought you to a whole other chamber, it was rather bigger and you were surprised. The bed was more bigger, seems to be the same size as Rhaenyra and Daemon’s— you knew it was your now shared chambers with Jace. It appears your handmaidens had already brought some of your collected art pieces and artifacts into the chambers to hung them up during your wedding. She brought out a wet cloth and started wiping your face very carefully in order to not hurt your wound.

“Was I okay?” you suddenly asked, blurting the question out without any context. You meant how you looked during your wedding.

Lysanna gave you a confused look to which you gave a pleading one in return. She unwrapped your robes and gently pressed her fingers on your palm, the one with the wound. Applying a bandage to wrap around your hand. “I am lost by what you mean.” Turning around to find an appropriate gown for you to wear.

Sighing, “I mean, did I present myself..” trying to find the perfect way to describe your question, “did I do alright?”

“Well, you certainly looked like you were in love,” She spoke, looking through your closet, still deciding for you to wear. Lysanna then let out a contented gasp, pulling out a white and golden gown that had sheer patterned sleeves and sheer designs on the skirt with the same patterns. “Were you faking it?”

Inserting your arms into the sleeves, you fiddled with the skirt while she laced the strings behind the gown. You were remembering what was happening in the wedding, leaving yourself feeling slightly panic and flustering from the sudden and passionate kiss you shared with Jace. His lusting eyes that were laying upon you wasn’t helping your case, it left you wanting to finish what you had started.

“No. I wasn’t.” shaking your head, looking at yourself in the mirror while she help put your half of your hair into double braids before connecting them across the back of your head and leaving the rest of your hair alone.

Lysanna smiled and nodded her head, leaning away to take a good look at you. “Good. It looked real.” Giving her a genuine smile from her response, it held no lie to it. She went over to your vanity and gave you jewelry to pick and wear. After you had finish adding earrings and a necklace, she held your hand to ease your nerves and lead you to the dining hall. She walked with reassurance and confidence, you were envious from the way she was able to look so proud but yet again she wasn’t the one who had just got married. She had no reason to be nervous or scared like you.

You entered the dining hall, lifting your skirt to step down carefully. Your family was already there, eating and conversing with one another. Rhaenyra looked up from her seat in the middle end of the table, gave you a smile. You sat by her side, Lysanna joining you all by sitting next to Rhaena and Luke, they begun laughing at silly jokes that Rhaena babbled.

“The ceremony was absolutely beautiful,” Rhaenyra praised, as Daemon handed you a cup of wine. You were hesitant to take it but still took a small sip. “It is good to be back in Dragonstone.” Quickly nodding at her statement, you felt more at home here. But yet, you missed your siblings dearly, remembering what you had saw with Helaena and Aemond.

“Your trip to Winterfell is on the morrow, is it?” Daemon asked, seemed to genuinely be interested to know more. He shown more fascination and interest in you and your life, it was a kind gesture and made you see him in a different light.

You were excited, none the less. You were finally visiting the north, you longed for this opportunity. Ever since Lysanna spoken stories of the cold land, you had wanted to see it for yourself. To feel snow, to make snow angels, to find direwolves, you were truly about to explode with excitement. “Yes! But I still have many things to pack. Lysanna, as well.”

“It’s alright. I had it all packed for you.” Jace suddenly spoke up, still eating his dinner as he paid no mind to you. You looked over to his side, appreciated at the fact he went out of his way to do that for you.

Warmly smiling to yourself, the fear of him hating you washed away. He cared for you, no matter what. “Thank you.”

“You looked like a goddess, cousin! I hope to look as beautiful as you in my own wedding.” Rhaena happily chirped, her eyes filled of hope while Daemon gave her a non-threatening stare from how she already declared wanting to be married.

You laughed at how eager she sounded, “That’ll be a long time, I assure you.” Daemon announced, Rhaenyra sighed from his response as Rhaena frowned. But you knew he meant well, he just doesn’t want to see her grow up so fast.

Finally finished your meal, you got up from your seat and walked towards Rhaena and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead before giving her and Luke a bear hug. “My sweetlings, so sweet to me. Be good to your parents.” they both were so young and already speaking of such topics. You just wanted to pocket them in your coat and take them everywhere with you. “May I visit Meraxes?” you asked Rhaenyra, whipping her head around as she gave you a quick nod, laughing with Daemon. The night was still young and you took the advantage to find your old dragon.

Placing one last kiss on Rhaena and Luke, you whispered to Lysanna to take them to bed soon. Leaving the hall to grab your cloak, you begun to walk out the castle with such hurry, looking across the island and ran in such pace to seek warmth and comfort from Meraxes. Upon your arrival, she turned her head to greet you, mewling loudly to declare how much she missed you, you knew your family had heard her. Holding onto her so tightly, hugging her by the side of her large head, she affectionately leaned in your touch. Compared her size to you, she barely leaned in just to not hurt you.

“Shijetra nyke, Merakses. Ēdan issare tolī nūmāzma naejot ao.” (“Forgive me, Meraxes. I have been to cruel to you.”) She seemed to understand you so easily from the way she wailed, huffing and puffing as you scratched underneath her mouth. The least you could do for her is let her rest for the remainder of her days, her entire life— all she ever knew was war and evil schemes that she was forced to be played in. You never thought about using her like that, she was too old for that now.

Perhaps that is why Meraxes picked you, maybe it wasn’t only because you had reminded her of the Queen Rhaenys, the way you would be silly around her, danced and played in the empty fields with her when you were younger reminded her of the old days with Rhaenys. Reading Aegon’s Conquest to Meraxes in High Valyrian so she would understand, she felt like she was in paradise and wanted to stay by your side until it was her time to rest for eternity. Never having to be at war again, having the opportunity to fly freely with you, relaxing in the deep lake with you was pure bliss.

If Meraxes could speak to you, she would thank you for rescuing her. For having the opportunity to live a peaceful life, living in where she was born, with other companions such as Caraxes, Syrax, Vermax and Arrax.

You placed your coat underneath you, instead of riding with her, you decided to rest with Meraxes instead. It would not be wise to sleep out here, you would worry your family but if you spent more time away from your dragon, you would’ve gone mad. “Hemtubis īlon kipagon syt Ropatasōnar. Ao se kesan ūndegon sōna syt se ēlī jēda.” (Tomorrow, you and I ride for Winterfell.) your words slowly becoming a whisper, dozing off to slumber— but your dragon’s low huff almost woke you up. Closing your eyes, your head resting near her clean, silver scales. Her large wing protectively resting above you, not strictly above to not suffocate you.

While you peacefully slept without a worry right by Meraxes’ side, your husband wasn’t so peaceful. He sat by the edge of your shared bed in your new shared chambers, wondering where you were. You weren’t in your old chambers either, the last time he heard you were with Meraxes. Getting up from his spot on the bed, wrapping his bare torso and arms with a night robe to look for you outside, letting the knights know he will be searching for you. Jacaerys was rushing down the steep hill, the rocks, and sand to find you— almost stepping in holes from time and time. He easily found Meraxes, she was the largest dragon afterall, she was easy to spot.

Jace wanted to feel angry, you never alerted anyone about how long you would take. He’s off looking for you around the island as always, but he couldn’t help the growing nervousness in his chest for your safety, worried you could be injured. No matter how much anger Jace holds over you, you still have him wrapped around your finger so tightly that no matter what you do, he would always find his way back to you. And the worst part is, you were unaware of this fact.

Once he reached Meraxes, she quietly mewled towards him, Jace patted Meraxes— she was sleeping so peacefully while you were laying right next to her, shivering in your sleep, arms curling tightly by your chest for some warmth, your cloak nor Meraxes could save you from the cold winds. You looked so peaceful and beautiful until he looked clearer. Your face was not only dried with tears, your teeth clattering together and your brows furrowed .

Without a thought, he quickly unwrapped his robes and wrapped it over you. For a brief moment, you were no longer shivering and began leaning into Jace’s warm embrace, he was known for being a literal walking furnace. He was wearing nothing now besides his breeches while you were layered comfortably but yet held around Jace’s arms, he couldn’t help but feel butterflies roaming inside his stomach from your touch. He decided to breathe into your palms from how cold they unusually are.

From the much movements around you and the sudden warmth, you began to wake up. Rubbing your eyes and mouth slurring, your eyes slowly widen from the view of Jace holding onto you protectively. At that sight of your husband, you were shocked to see him.

“What are you doing here?” you slurred your words, unintentionally, wiping the dried tears from your cheeks.

Jace tried to keep his eyes from looking back at you, “I was worried about my wife.” he stated simply. You grew quiet from his words.

You mumbled, “Oh..I apologize for worrying you, I must have woken you from your slumber,” your voice shaky. You were afraid you had made him mad even more but he shook his head.

He rubbing your forearms with a gentle touch. “I stayed up waiting for your return to our chambers. I had wondered if you went back to your old chambers.”

You looked at him for a moment, before more tears ran down your face, from the thought that he thinks you didn’t want to be with him, share chambers and share a bed hurt you. “Why would I abandon you,” you whispered, you were not asking, you knew the answer. He looked at you with guilt on his face, probably for even assuming you wouldn’t want to be near him during the night.

“It was foolish of you to be out here so late in the night.” he scolded, “you could have become sick just by staying out here for a bit.”

“I’m so sorry, Jacaerys,” you apologized, though, you weren’t apologizing about staying out here. He knew why you were apologizing, it felt all too real for the both of you. You were finally gonna speak your truth, speak your feelings. “I already failed you as a wife. Your future Queen. You hate me so much and it is my fault.” You had let out a sob, one that was a cry for help. All he could do was just listen to you belittle yourself as you continued to explain. “We were once close, do you remember? You always had your nightmares and crawled in my bed, excusing yourself as only wanting to protect me during the night.” Jace chuckled at the remembrance of the memories you both shared together. Remembering it like it was last night. “To see you hurt over something I had caused broke me deeply..of course I love you, I love you so much it hurts my heart to see you slip away from me. I don’t like to see you with another lady, and I don’t like to think about how you could have been betrothed to someone else who isn’t me. Your love and devotion for me is all I can ask for. But..please, you must understand why I was scared to marry, my mother was forced to squeeze out children until she died. Knowing that will be me someday, frightens me, worries me that I may not give you an heir.”

As you finished, Jacaerys laid there— with so many thoughts running through his mind. You love him, and yet he never thought about how it was like for you, his sadness breaks you down to the point you’re a wreck because you love him. He noticed, he noticed how much quieter you become during and after the betrothal, and how you barely even made the effort to wish farewells to your family as you went on the boat.

Realizing now, imagining you dying in childbirth frightened Jacaerys so much to the point his hold on you tightened. To lose you, especially to childbed, it put the poor boy in shock.

Jace pulled you closer to him, both of you becoming sweating from how hot under the robes and cloak were, “You’re not my nephew anymore, you are my husband. And I need to start seeing you as my husband.” Suddenly he looked down from the touches you placed on his left hand, he watched you took off the ring your father, his grandsire had left to you. The ring he had worn as a wedding ring with his wife, your mother— the rings that represented their love for one another. You placed the ring delicately onto his ring finger, twisting it around occasionally. It now belonged to him.

“I love you, Jacaerys,” you sobbed, rushing to press your hands on his bare chest. You were an emotional wreck. But yet, he didn’t know what to say. “Please speak to me.” Gods, your voice was breaking his heart. Why can’t he speak? He loves you so much. He would do anything for you. He would go as far as to kill for you.

Placing his forehead against yours, finally gaining the courage to speak, “You and I were meant to burn together.”

Without hesitation, he roughly grabbed you by your silvery hair and placed a rough kiss onto your lips, you quickly returned the kiss with such eagerness. The kiss almost knocked the winds out of you, you weren’t expecting Jace to be so rough but you didn’t care. Pulling away to catch your breath for a quick moment before reaching once again to his lips, your tears continued to fall from your eyes, mixing into your lips— making the kiss become wet.

His hands falling to grip your waist, laying on top of you as he moved once again behind to unlace your gown, in such swiftness, your gown was slowly coming off and you immediately shivered from the strong winds. Jace broke the kiss to set your dress aside but once he placed it next to you both, his eyes laid upon your bare body— you had changed tremendously over the years, you were now a lady and Jace could see that quite clearly from the way your breasts were much more fuller and the sides of your body were now curvier.

From his wandering eyes, you were becoming embarrassed. Was he disgusted by you? Were his expectations ruined? You felt like curling up into a ball and hide away.

Reaching to cover yourself with your arm, feeling even more embarrassed that you had to hide your breasts away. Before you could even react, his hands placed your arms above your head, Jace’s lips came down onto yours again, this time more sweeter than the first one. You brought your hands down to bury them in his hair, as you moved your lips against his.

His tongue swiped across your lips, wanting to deepen the kiss. You opened your mouth with slight hesitation, but it soon disappeared and replaced with lust— moaning at the newfound feeling of his tongue. Jacaerys moved away to place sweet kisses all over your neck, pulling you into him more harshly, hips smashing into each other. Without your gown on, you could feel everything, his body heat, and every part of his body. You were whimpering in seconds from how he began to place lovebites on your shoulder and collarbone.

His hands moved up your body, going up and down on your hips before resting his palms on your breasts, gently massaging the soft, ample mounds. When he lightly pinched the sensitive buds, you let out a moan, pulling on his hair as he continued to graze your nipples. Jace groaned, taking it as permission, he dipped his head into your chest before he began to suck harshly, even began nipping your buds to earn more sounds from you. To think this was his first experience with you, you would have thought he was skilled at this. But no, neither of you had touched someone like this before, and it felt good. The relief washing over you when you would be losing your virtue to Jacaerys and not someone like Aegon or an old High Lord who wouldn’t even thought once about your pleasures and desires.

Both his hands continued to pinch at your skin, while you started whimpering. Traveling up to your neck, biting and sucking at the sensitive skin. You were withering away into ecstasy as he continued. His hands drifted from your chest, down your waist, slowly as you could feel his hands on your thighs, he retrieved away from your neck, admiring the work he done with the lovebites scattering all over your neck, collarbone, shoulders, and your breasts.

“Jace…” you whined. Clearly frowning from the loss of heat that his body provided for you while he was exploring your body.

The way you were already missing his touch was starting to get Jace feeling worked up, your pity eyes and your pouty lips was just the icing on top of the cake. He wanted to have his way with you right then and there, pleasuring the both of you so eagerly but he knew he would have to be patient. Your pleasure absolutely comes first. Though, he was glad you both were far away from the castle, your family wouldn’t have to hear you both.

“W-What are you doing?” You asked, confused but still remained to lay on your cloak. Shifting uncomfortably, wondering if it was over already, if it was only just in the heat of the moment. Your thoughts were cut short when Jacaerys spread your thighs apart, groaning at the sight that was laid in front of him and the feeling of the fat of your thighs in his hands. Letting out a shocked gasp from the cool air blowing into your cunt.

Jace looked up to you, not exchanging any words but the look on his face was asking for your permission to continue. You nodded, allowing him to dive his head between your legs. He gave your cunt a wet kiss before bringing his fingers to slip through your folds, groaning at how wet you are, you subconsciously brought your hand to grip the wrist to his wandering hand, that was smearing your wetness all over your cunt.

He gave you a light smile from how easily wet you were. Wanting to tease you some more, “All for me, my love?” you were feeling rather more embarrassed than you ever were with Jace. You couldn’t muster anything to say back, as an result Jace lightly smacked your cunt— loudly yelping at the impact, it frightened Meraxes who was still besides you both. You had started realizing where you both were, right by the ocean and way too close to your dragon, who seemed to be very annoyed by the loud and erotic noises you both were making.

“C-Could we take our affairs into our- ah! Jacaerys!” you cried out, as you were trying to suggest going back inside, he continued to spread your lips with his tongue, lapping your juices from your dripping hole. He began moving his tongue in and out of you with his fingers patiently moving towards your clit to rub it slowly before it started to fasten. You propped yourself onto your side, wanting more.

The lewd squelching noises had only made you feel warmer and turned on. You gave out and fell on your back once more, babbling with soft whimpers— you could not control your voice, expressing how much it feels good. With his tongue still inside you, it made your skin burn, had your toes curling on his back as your thighs wrapped around his head, your hands gently yanked at his hair to pull him away from your cunt, it was beginning to become too much for you, sending vibrations through your body. “J-Jace..too much..”

While trying to escape his grasp, his hands removed themselves from your nub and moved to your sides— holding your hips down, allowing him to gain control again, rather than letting you move away from his face. Whimpering from the tight hold Jace has on your hips, he decided to pull you more closer to him, deepening his tongue inside your cunt. With his fingers again, he rubbed tight circles on your clit, it brought you a different kind of pleasure, the feeling of your stomach turning, like something snapped.

He hummed against your cunt, acknowledging that you were close, deciding to replace his mouth and to slowly add two fingers inside. Thrusting them in and out of you, careful not to hurt you but that thought quickly disappeared after he heard you babble the loudest moans you ever let out tonight, “Please..don’t stop, ñuha vēzos.” you whimpered out. To hear that nickname come out of your mouth after so long made his cock hard, fastening his pace before adding another then another. The cold feeling of the ring that was still placed on his finger, thrusting inside you had you falling apart. It was a newfound feeling that you seemed to already become addicted to, adding more to your pleasuring.

With his face pulled away from you, lips dripping with your juices, but his fingers never stopped, the pleasure continuing, “It’s alright. Let go, ñuha hūra qēlossās,” he urged, as he dove back to kiss you messily, aggressive like the first kiss you had shared with him, driving his tongue into your mouth, he happily swallowed your moans and whimpers that you were letting out, his thumb ferociously rubbed your clit to help you cum quicker, it felt so good.

You listened to his words. You tried to let go, allowing yourself to relax and enjoy the pleasure he was giving you. It was soon that you felt that same feeling that was building in your stomach, it felt like a tight knot snapping. You pulled harder at Jace’s hair, in silence, pulling your mouth was away from his, a thin string of saliva connecting. You saw white stars in your vision, desperately trying to come down from your high. Your vision and hearing were lacking, giving Jace a small huff when he tried to call your name, you could barely hear him.

He pulled his fingers out of you, your hole was left clenching nothing as it leaked out all of your juices. Slowly regaining your vision, you gave Jace a hazy smile, and reached up to pull him closer to you. Letting out a mewl at the way he cupped your breasts, firmly, smothering them in sweet kisses.

With his hands on your breasts, you wrapped your legs around him again, finding familiar pleasure in the friction of rubbing yourself against him through his breeches. Jace let out a relaxed sigh from the endless grinding. He looked up to see you, you were too deep in pleasure to notice him pulling himself away, and lowering his breeches. His cock sprung up, he re-adjusted himself on top of you. He was rather bigger than you imagined. Deep in your thoughts, you didn’t notice how he moved his tip down your slit to collect your wetness, mixing it with his pre-cum to make his cock even more wet.

You tried to fix yourself as you can while still drowsy from your previous orgasm, bringing your hand to hold him, carefully. Your hand was gentle, not wanting to squeeze him hard— you wrapped it around his length, and his eyes were closed as he hissed at your touch, his stomach was tensing up.

“Gods,” he strangled, you looked up to him and his face contorted in pleasure. You moved your hand and replaced it with your tongue, placing his whole length in your mouth, you began to gag on his cock but you wanted to bring some pleasure to him, like the good wife you are. Continuing to move your head slowly, you were getting the hang of sucking him off. The surprising act had Jace shocked, to see you trying to please him so eagerly.

The thought of just letting you suck him off until he released in your mouth made him feel excited, but that wasn’t what he planned. As much as he didn’t want to, he gently pull your mouth off him. He wanted to be inside you. Retrieving yourself away, frowning as you wiped your mouth, to your disappointment, Jace gave you a smile and placed a wet kiss on your neck, “Forgive me, my love but I want to feel your cunt.” you clenched at his words, nodding and allowing him to tuck your curls behind your ear, guiding you to lay back down on your cloak.

He wrapped his own hand around his cock, now wet enough to line himself at your entrance. Placing your arms around your husband’s shoulders, making him come closer to you in the hopes of having some sort of reassurance, as you laid craving his cock. Jace slowly pushed himself inside you, working his cock into your cunt. The stretch was rather more bigger than with his fingers, whining as your nails dig into his back— your legs wrapped around his hips, tightly. The feeling was uncomfortable, you couldn’t breathe properly nor move. He continued sliding inside you, settling himself comfortably until he had your approval to start moving again.

Jace leaned into your neck, breathing in your scent and groaning at the feeling of finally being inside you. How he waited for years to wed you. He stayed quite snugged in you, eventually, bringing his head up to meet your eyes. He could see the hold of discomfort in them, to relief the mild aching—he brought his fingers down to your clit again, rubbing circles, recklessly, in hopes to help you find pleasure. As his fingers remained on your nub, your body had began to relax and erupt in pleasure once more. You closed your eyes, rocking yourself back and forth to bring more. You moaned at the feeling of Jace bringing himself in and out of you. Slowly thrusting back into you, never taking his hand away from your clit, instead he started to rub your nub even faster, making you feel more heat.

As he continued to slide in and out of you at a cautious pace, you were begging for more. Babbling at your husband to go faster, he complied without a word. Bringing your legs over his shoulders, you both could hear your skin clapping together. His pace was rather brutal and hard, but oh gods, it felt so good. Your head fell back, mouth left open as Jace continued his harsh thrusts. Blood dripping from his back, the feeling of your nails digging deeper into his skin almost made Jace collapse from how good it felt. Wanting to quiet his groans, he began to nip at your neck, you were clenching tightly around him, “Don’t stop! Please! Please! Ah!”

His pace quickening as you bounced against him, lost in the pleasure. Your mouth laid open, your moans beginning to become too loud. Jace swore the knights that were on nightwatch could have heard you. Removing his fingers from your clit, Jace stuck his fingers in your mouth to hush you, immediately you began to suck on them so desperately as your eyes rolled back so far.

The tight knot in your stomach came back, falling over from the feeling again. Crying out for Jace with his fingers still in your mouth once his thrusts slowed down. You took his fingers out of your mouth, afraid you would bite them by accident. Not sure on where to place them, he decided to wrap his hand around your neck and began to squeeze. The feeling was unfamiliar but it felt amazing, you felt yourself liking the newfound feeling as you were beginning to feel dizzy during your high, about to pass out from the way he was constricting your breath as he continued fucking you.

Your high ending, becoming very sensitive to the continuing movement inside you. “Please..inside me..” you choked, wanting to feel his cum inside you. You felt his thrusts stuttering, more messier. Jace wanted to pull out, spill himself on your breasts but hearing your words, he complied. Without saying anything back, he thrusted one last time, deeper this time. Spilling his cum inside, not wasting a drop while thrusting all of it inside your leaking cunt. You both moaned in unison at the feeling, taking his hand off your now bruised neck, replacing it with his face to rest on your neck, kissing it gently as he continued to spill inside you. Oh, it felt so good, the feeling of his warmth filling you. With strong arms around you, carefully Jace pulled out of you, both of you hissing at the loss feeling and you whined, clenching around nothing, wanting him to stay inside you forever.

Jacaerys pulled away, finding his breeches and bringing it to your thighs to clean you up right away. Wiping away the cum and saliva that was dripping down your stomach and thighs. You looked up at him confused, and upset he was using his only clothing. “My love, what will you wear now?” Rushing to stop his actions with your hand, Jace shook his head and only continued until you were clean. Slightly wincing from the sensitivity down there.

“Let me attend to you.” he ordered, he was not asking. Without wanting to start a disagreement, you nodded. He had you turned to the side to wipe away any sand that sticked to your body and placed you gently back down on your cloak. “I’m sorry, I was too harsh with you.”

You melted further into the cloak, eyes growing tired, his sweet words made you shake your head and only smile sweetly. “It is fine. I don’t mind, it was me who was too harsh with you, my love.” Bringing his hand to cup your cheek, he felt himself growing guilty from your words. He didn’t want your first time to be something that you felt you had to be punished for. He would never be that cruel to you, he wasn’t someone like Aegon. He was your devoted husband, who would go to great lengths to protect you. The sweat across your body and face, the tired look on your face, the bruises and marks on your body. This was not what Jacaerys wanted for you, but you were just happy to finally have his forgiveness, you tried to reassure him that you wanted it just as much as he wanted it. Happily humming once he placed his robes around you, slipping underneath the robes, taking you in his arms once again. You laid your head on his bare chest, finding warmth and comfort.

He was smoothing your hair out, tangling his fingers. Your braids had became messy and unkept but it didn’t matter to Jace. “My sweet wife..” he whispered, placing a kiss on your forehead. The guilt never went away, not once, remaining in his mind as he tried to sleep. “I am fine, my love.” you urged, trying to make sure he knows you are well while you were still awake. He gave you a sweet smile, to help you believe he is not worried anymore. As he began to hear the soft snores coming from you, all Jace could think about how unfair he was to you. He let his anger get the best of him, remaining bitter and sour to you when you tried to apologize once. As you tried to win his affections back, letting you wither in sadness. You were never cruel to him.

It was never that big of a deal, he thought. for you to feel the need to always be there for your step-mother. Of course it wasn’t, you were just trying to make everyone happy. Was he only mad because he was just envious? Envious that he and his family weren’t the only ones you held such strong familiar feelings for? No matter what the outcome was, whether your family bullied his mother, or accused them of being bastards, or even taking your freedom from almost everything that you felt you had to leave— you would always be tied to Alicent and your other siblings because of your connection to them.

All his life, Jacaerys tried to catch all of your attention. Wanting to be the one who caught your eye, never finding it fair that you mainly laid your eyes on your other family. Always comforting Aemond, reading with Helaena, chasing Aegon around incase he made a fool of himself, or when you were busy with writing letters back to Daeron.

Jace thought once you were married to him, you would finally realize you only needed him in your life. You didn’t need Alicent, or your brothers and sister. If you had ask him to take you away and settled down in Essos or Pentos, he would’ve gladly packed a bag and ride off with you on Vermax while knowing the risks that came with it.

You were enough for him. So why wasn’t he enough for you?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Atleast they made up😍 kinda- but omg I’m never writing smut again that was tiring and scary (I’m lying..) HOLY SHIT THAT WAS SO LONG LMFAO

taglist (woohoo!): @sigynxlokiwifelover @l-3-e @audigay @urmomsgirlfriend1 @cold-v0dka @cookielovesbook-akie @theoriginalwife000 @xoxovenusquinn(would not let me tag u:( @ghalakgx (would not let me tag:( @neenieweenie @classysassynabitsmartassy @generousbearwolflight @gariben @si1versamurai @deltamoon666 @aemondssiut (would not let me tag u:( @thelastemzy @ryantryan6969 @topazy @starogeorgina @infinitleyethereal @speedypeter @dramaroomrat @potatolady189 (would not let me tag u:( @zzz000eee @parkchaeyoung1997 @jaehyunyah

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gilmore-angel · 1 year

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unexpected pleasures || A.T x fem!reader

summary ♱ reader has just wed the infamous aemond targaryen, and though she's nervous, she will soon discover there are many pleasurable things to come (tldr reader gets finger fucked good)

warnings/contains ♱ arranged marriage, awkwardness at first, smut obvi, sub!reader dom!aemond, fingering, praise kink!! use of good girl, pretty girl, wife. overall very fluffy!! soft!aemond<3. let me know if I should add anything else!!

authors note ♱ okok this is probably trash but I'm literally forcing myself to write rn<3 lol anyways this is also my first time actually writing for aemond which is crazy bc I've been obsessed with him since like early January💀. if you enjoy please reblog! likes are obviously appreciated but reblogs are the thing that actually help the writer<3 oh and lmk if you want a part two!!

navigation 𔓕 follow and turn on notifications for @baysfics to know when I post my writings

married life isn't so bad after all.

of course, you've only been married for about three hours now, but it's going better than expected, which at this point is all you can hope for.

your new husband, prince aemond, has been quite pleasant thus far. you have only had roughly six full conversations since you were betrothed two months ago, but based off of them he was very polite and well educated.

though you had dreaded the wedding day, everything had gone smoothly. the ceremony itself was a big event, full of lords and ladies you didn't even know the house of, all eager to get on the new princesses good side. and of course there was the kiss you shared with aemond, one that sent an unknown feeling through you, settling at your lower belly. and now, the grand feast to celebrate the union.

it had less people there, only family and the very important houses were allowed to attend. you sat at the table in the middle, sitting in the center along with your husband. on your other side sat your father, mother and siblings, the same went for aemond. your husband stayed mostly silent during the feast, only speaking when spoken to.

your belly slightly ached with nerves for what was coming next; the bedding. thankfully, the queen had insisted upon a private bedding, just as she did for her other children when they wed. the action soothed your nerves a bit, but they still clung to you.

you had been warned by your mother that the bedding was an uncomfortable and painful process for the woman. but she also informed you that it is something all woman must do to please their lord husband and produce heirs.

you felt your heart sink when the king stood up weakly to announce it was time for you and aemond to head to your chambers. you both stood up and gave your goodbyes, your mother giving you a reassuring smile before you left.

there was an awkward silence as you walked with your husband to your chambers, escorted by guards. you glanced at him, only to see him looking straight ahead, blank expression on his handsome face.

once you arrived the guards pushed open the heavy wooden doors. you gave them a small smile in thanks before aemond dismissed them. as the doors closed aemond let out a small shaky sigh, you couldn't tell if it was out of nervousness or dread. you both stood awkwardly, unsure of where to begin. he spoke first, breaking the deafening silence.

"would you like help taking down your hair?" he blurted out. you nodded, giving him a awkward small smile.

"please," you moved past him to sit at the vanity. you began taking out the many odd placed pins and braids in your hair. aemond came up from behind you to start assisting in the process. the feeling of his long fingers in your hair made up for the times he would accidentally tugged too hard trying to take down the hairstyle. you both worked in silence, the only word spoken was his occasional 'sorry's when he would notice you wince.

now that your hair was down, the room was once again filled with an thick silence. eventually you stood up, turning to face him. you sucked in a breath, looking up at him nervously.

"should i..... should I remove my clothes, my prince?"

his eyes widened at the question, but he nodded, "yes, my lady... I can help."

he moved behind you, undoing the laces of the dress with shaky fingers. the gorgeous dress fell to the floor, pooling around your feet. you stepped out of the dress, leaving you in a silky shift and small clothes. you felt quite vulnerable as you begun taking your shift off, even more so once it was gone.

aemond let out a shaky breath at the sight of you in nothing but your small clothes. he looks up and down your body, desire filling his eye. he walks closer to you, looking deep into your eyes.

"may I kiss you, my lady?" he asked, his usual cold tone gone, now replaced with a soft, caring one. you nod, eyes wide.

aemond smiled softly before leaning down and kissing your soft lips. this kiss was unlike the other one you both had shared just hours before. this one was out of pure want, not obligation.

you gasp softly against his lips when he deepened the kiss, your hands flying up to his strong shoulders. his hands found home on your hips. he pulled away just enough to whisper against your lips, "is this okay?"

you nod, staring up at him with wide eyes. "yes, my prince, I just... I don't really know how to do this properly."

he smiles at you softly, moving one of his hands to caress your cheek gently.

"that's okay, just copy what I do, okay?"

he leans back in, kissing at a slow pace. his lips are soft and warm against your own. you feel something wet poking at your bottom lip and soon realize it's his tongue. you open your mouth slightly and gasp when he slides his tongue in, exploring where he can reach. the sensation causes a soft whimper to fall from your lips.

he begins pushing you backwards gently until the back of your knees hit the edge of the plush bed behind you, causing you to lay down on it. to your surprise, aemond gets on his knees before you and pulls you down so your legs hang off the bed. leaning up on your elbows you look down at him extremely confused. "my prince... what are you doing?"

he simply smiled and blushed, "let me know if you wish to stop, okay my lady?". his big calloused hands went up and down your thighs, pulling them apart. you laid back, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes. his hands eventually found their way to your small clothes.

"may I remove these, my lady?" one hand continued rubbing you thigh gently. you hum and nod. that wasn't good enough apparently and aemond lightly pinched your thigh. "words, wife. I need to hear some words out of those pretty lips."

you blushed deeply, taking a deep breath, "yes, please take them off."

he smiles, murmuring under his breath "good girl". you felt a tingle in your lower belly, growing each time he touched or talked to you.

he carefully slid your small clothes off, throwing them somewhere in the room. he sucked in a big breath at the sight of your bare cunt. you squirmed slightly, his gaze lighting you on fire almost.

"may I touch you, wife?" he spoke softly, a poorly hidden desire behind the words.

you nod but quickly remember what he told you. "yes, you may."

with one hand he softly rubbed your thigh, with the other he rubbed one finger up and down your lips, pushing past them and exploring the wet outside. your back slightly arched at the unknown but not unwelcomed feeling. he moved his finger higher until he found your clit. a high pitched whimper escaped your lips at his soft but achingly good touch.

he looked up at you with a sweet smile. "does that feel nice, wife?". his finger moved in gentle circles, pressing ever so slightly.

a few breathy whimpers and moans slipped out of your mouth. "yes," you breathed, "so so nice..."

he let out a hmm, continuing his movements. he moved his finger up and down, gathering your wetness and then spreading it around your sensitive clit. as he rubbed on your bundle of nerves, his other hand came up, softly pressing against your slit.

"this may feel strange, my lady, but I promise it'll feel so good soon, okay?" he pushed a long thick finger into your previously untouched hole, groaning at how tight you were. your back arched off the bed as a loud moan rang around the room. he slowly started moving it in and out, sending waves of pleasure through your body when he curled his finger upwards. your gummy walls tightened around him, almost as tight as he cock felt in his trousers.

he looked up to see your reaction, smiling when he saw your head thrown back in pleasure. soft whimpers left your mouth as his movements quickened.

"may I add a second finger, sweet girl?" something about the way he said the affectionate name sent chills down your spine as you slightly bucked against his hand.

"hmmph, yes, yes please husband." he smirked as he added a second finger. he pumped them in and out fast, his other hand still focused on your puffy clit.

suddenly a new feeling hit you. like some sort of knot in your belly, ready to explode any second. a panicked expression washed over you at the strange sensation.

"aemond, aemond! something is, fuck, happening!" you cried desperately, clenching the sheets beneath you hard.

"shh, it's okay, it'll feel so good. just let it happen sweet girl." it was too much and too little, it was overwhelming yet you needed more. it hurt but felt so so right.

before you could reply waves and waves of pleasure washed over you, drowning you in the feeling of him. your whole body shook, hips bucking wildly into his hand. creamy white cum drooled onto his fingers and hand. he groaned at the sight and fucked you through your peak.

he eventually slid his hand out and climbed up the bed, hovering over you. he brought his cum covered fingers to you mouth, "open," he commanded softly, sucking in a shaky breath when you wrapped you lips around them. he pulled them out, moving to caress your cheek, "such a good girl."

he began kissing your neck, trailing his hand back down to your thighs. you whimpered sweetly causing him to chuckle.

"oh, sweet wife, we are just getting started."

#aemond Targaryen #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x you #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #hotd #house of the dragon x reader #bay writes🌻

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thesimline · 1 year

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1300s WOMEN - PART 2

I've been having so much fun researching medieval fashion and hunting out period appropriate CC. As it was a societal expectation that wives and widows cover their hair in the 1300s, I've made sure to include plenty of head covering options, along with a bunch of accessories in the simple and modest style of this century. CC links under the cut.

You can find more of my historical content here:

1300s ✺ 1400s ✺ 1500s ✺ 1600s ✺ 1700s

1 - Ye Medieval Crown & Veil by ErinkAOK (TSR)

2 - Spike Crown by Historical Simslife

3 - Magda Hair by Melancholy Maiden | Ye Medieval Headacc by Bobur3 (TSR)

4 - Medieval Side Buns by Alin22 | Brocade Hairnets by Alin22

5 - Ye Medieval Joan Hairstyle Lace by Leah Lillith (TSR)

6 - Padme Picnic by Buzzard's Bits and Bobs

7 - Callin' Headband by Pralinesims (TSR)

8 - Harmony by Sehablas Simlish (TSR)

9 - Antonietta Set by Melancholy Maiden

10 - TSM Big Circle Hair by Simverses

11 - TSM Aristocratic Braid Circlet by Simverses

12 - Ye Medieval Adelaide Set by Shimydim (TSR)

13 - Casual Hijab #4 by BokchoiJo (TSR)

14 - Hijab Collection #8 by Marsmerizing Sims

15 - Huda Khimar by Nords (TSR)

16 - S2 Crispinette Headdress Full Veil by Simverses

17 - Hijab by Candy Sims | Lace Wedding Veil by Kiara Zurk

18 - Olenna Tyrell Hat by Bats From Westeros

19 - TSM Simple Veil by Simverses

20 - Ouima Headwrap by FKA

21 - WWI VAD Headwear by Waxes Nostalgic

22 - Ye Medieval Gold Chandelier Earrings by Glitterberryfly (TSR)

23 - Ye Medieval Onyx Earrings by Feyona (TSR)

24 - Ye Medieval Peridot Earrings by Glitterberryfly (TSR)

25 - Ye Medieval Gold Pearl Necklace by Glitterberryfly (TSR)

26 - Ye Medieval Necklace by Bobur3 (TSR)

27 - Aquamarine Set by Melon Sloth

28 - Jade Ring by Glitterberryfly (TSR)

29 - Simple Circle Engagement Ring by Glitterberry Sims

30 - Vintage Engagement Ring by Glitterberry Sims

With thanks to some amazing creators: @historicalsimslife @buzzardly28 @pralinesims @simverses @nords-sims @candysims4 @zurkdesign @batsfromwesteros @destinationboogie @waxesnostalgic @melonsloth

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milliesdiary · 2 years

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𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐓, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍

𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭; you and aemond targaryen grew up together. as a pair of royal children, you shared smiles, feasts, and hushed talks of duties — until a physical altercation changed your relationship forever. after six years, you find that the young boy has become a fiery man and your betrothed. seeing each other again is difficult, but dealing with old feelings is harder.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; aemond targaryen x princess!reader

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬; arranged marriage, descriptions of past violence (physical fight between young aemond and reader)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; to be as inclusive as possible, i do not mention the reader’s parents’ descent. i also do not specify the reader’s skin tone, body type, eye/hair color, or hair texture (braids are used but they contribute to most hotd hairstyles). enjoy!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭; pic 1 — pic 2 — pic 3

“𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑.”

Those were your father’s words when you asked why you had to marry Aemond Targaryen.

Perhaps it was to be expected. As the daughter of a king in Westeros, you found that power was a constant battle to be fought and that you would not be shielded from the crossfire. In order to ensure a stable, unchallenged reign, you were to be wed to another child of royal descent — which meant being auctioned off to the most powerful house your father could get in touch with.

It also meant being fucked, then laying in a birthing bed and living a life of what you considered to be imprisonment. And due to your family’s faithful history with the Targaryens, the wielders of dragons, and the king’s desire for ancestral power, for elite grandchildren... it shouldn’t really be a surprise, should it?

You don't wish to argue with your father, but you don't want your frustration to go unnoticed either. Although your feelings have no real impact at the end of the day, there is value in them. They matter.

But why him?

You may have dreamt of being married to a charismatic Baratheon or a seductive Velaryon. Someone who would pledge to take you on a tour of the realm's most intricate castles and verdant gardens, stealing kisses and embraces.

Things cannot be so simple, can they?

You begged to call off your betrothal to Aemond, claiming that you would not get along, though your mother seemed to think otherwise with her rekindled political ties to the Targaryens. It was no use. Your parents had their minds set.

This is the world you are condemned to, in which, despite yourself, you must somehow live.

And now you are expected to meet your old friend after all these years, after that terrifying, horrific night. The night Aemond stole Vhagar, how he was beaten, how you contributed, how he left scarred for life.

The memory is still fresh in your mind. Six years ago.

One night, long after dusk, you heard arguing in the dragon pit. Curious, you approached the scene only to find Aemond in a stand-off with his nephews and nieces. He spoke of treacherous things, but was effectively shut down by Baela and Rhaena’s assaults.

It wasn’t long before Jace and Luke both engaged in the conflict. They could not be stopped. Violent, uncontrollable rage could be heard in the loud cracks of knuckles meeting flesh and bone. Jace attacked Aemond at some point — a terrible idea — because Aemond took a swipe at him and sent him into the dirt, leaving you just... standing in shock, fear, mouth agape.

When Aemond grabbed Luke by the front of his tunic and prepared to bash his face in with a stone, you were no longer frozen. An anger brash and hot consumed you, and before you knew it, you reacted on impulse.

You ran over and pushed Aemond in the chest, effectively launching him to the ground. The boy looked up in shock to see who appeared; you remember watching the look of surprise on his face, and then the betrayal that flashed across his eyes. Before he could even speak, you had him pinned to the dirt and slammed your fist into the bridge of his nose.

His head snapped back up to look at you after that. For a moment, he stared at you wide-eyed, before his face screwed into an expression of rage. It must had been a mix of fury and instinct, because Aemond retaliated.

Quickly, he shoved you off of him and threw a punch your way. The harsh force of it struck your cheek, painful, hard enough that you heard something crack. You were knocked over and ended up with your face pressed against the sandy pit.

You can’t recall what happened after that. There was a bunch of screaming, and then the rushed footsteps of guards who had heard the commotion. Someone had gripped your shoulders to urge you to your feet, and you almost fell forward again when everything blurred into blotches of red. The rest of the night was almost traumatic with the Queen challenging Rhaenyra, and your parents vowing to never bring you back to House Targaryen again.

The greed for power over the years must have revoked that plan.

You’re still not ready — not ready to confront the reality of what has become of your friendship. It hurts to even think of Aemond being impassive toward you, as you’re sure you will be to him.

You’re not even sure what he looks like now, but you have heard stories of the man he has become.

He doesn’t need a weapon anymore. He is a weapon.

Which begs the question: how much change can a person endure before turning into someone else completely, before it is almost considered murder?

You feel sorry for the rest of castle servants and commoners; they didn’t get to experience him the way you did. They didn’t get to see what you saw when you were with him. Gods, he was perfect.

Although it was probably your parents and the Queen who encouraged you and Aemond to meet all those years ago, they were delighted to learn that you were friends. Your father had just been crowned king, and it was necessary to meet the other Houses in the realm after doing such. You and Aemond just seemed to click after that.

You two had identical souls, the only children who understood one another in a life that ate people alive. He never teased you for hating the duties that came with being a princess, and you never teased him for not having a dragon. When you were unified, you were more powerful.

It’s funny how things can turn out.

Now, because the marriage in King’s Landing is next moon, you will be attending a feast tonight to see your betrothed: sitting at the same table as Aemond to dine, speaking about marriage, engaging in talks of bearing children.

It’s all too much.

Enduring change can hurt. It's frightening and adds to the lengthy array of things that make you scared. But that does not mean that it should be deemed unnecessary or ignored. You understand that.

Still, you curse this life as you step out of the carriage and onto the land of Dragonstone, peering up at the palace ahead of you. You curse it to hell.

The second you step into the Targaryen household, you realize that you are not really sure what to expect. It has been so many years. You are not prepared for this, not in the slightest.

And you certainly aren’t prepared to have the Queen greet you at the palace door instead of the knights.

It seems like a decade since you last saw her in the flesh as opposed to your memories. Her face is the exact same somehow, as if she had long conquered the battle of aging, and her brown hair is sweeped into a wavy half-up style. The emerald dress she wears sparkles with sequins, draping over her beautifully and accentuating the strings of gold jewlery along her neck. A small smile upturns the corner of her lips, and she seems pleased. Sympathetic.

It must appear that you’re somewhere far away in thought — which is relatively true, you suppose — because Alicent says your name in greeting to grasp your attention. With a smile, you dip your head in a bow.

“Your Grace.”

Alicent lets out a breath of... is it relief? She moves toward you quickly, enveloping you into a bear hug. You let her. You know what she’s trying to do.

She’s trying to reduce the rift that has grown over the years of being kept at a distance. Her embrace is a white flag, a message of peace, a silent apology. It’s successful.

“You have grown into a fine woman, my dear,” Alicent says softly into your shoulder.

The words conjure a strange knot in your chest; they hurt, but not out of hate or animosity. They hurt because they make you nostalgic, make you realize how much you missed House Targaryen. Your eyes prickle with the onset of almost-tears which you blink away rapidly.

And you reckon that today, in spite of Alicent's weight in your arms, you're going to have to consider what you want regarding the future. Talk about it with Aemond.

This is not about your mother, father, or the current state of your House anymore. This concerns you and your future husband.

Alicent pulls away after a few long moments, setting her hands upon your shoulders as she looks you up and down. “Your gown is lovely,” she says fondly, the statement lilted by her accent. “It suits you. Your House has always been exceptional when it comes to fashion.”

She’s right about that; your hand-maidens have always been sure to dress you beautifully. Today was no exception.

You’re wearing a silky fitted dress, made with an airy chiffon that fades from a silvery white to a dark, shadowy hem. Sparkling silver vine details adorn the chest, drawing attention to your breasts, along with a gem-stone belt that hugs your waist. A white cape is fastened around your shoulders, accentuating the graceful flow of the gown and nearly sweeping the floor. The necklace hanging from your throat gleams — a moonstone gem — and although it’s gorgeous, your hair almost always gets tangled in it. To prevent it from happening, your servants have started pulling your hair back into a half-up dutch braid crown, not a single strand out of place. It takes hours, but the end result is worth it.

You’re practically glowing.

You offer her a kind smile as you see her eyes light up. Your stomach churns and the nape of your neck prickles, but this woman has the same open expression that Aemond had when you first met him. It brings you a jittery sort of optimism.

“Thank you,” you say bashfully, dipping your head in thanks. Alicent then beckons over your father from where he stands behind you, two armored-knights stationed by his side.

“It has been too long, Your Grace,” your father says, plastering a polite smile onto his aged face. Alicent returns it with one of her own.

“It has,” she agrees. “The King would dearly desire to be here, but he regrettably cannot due to his health.” She must not be willing to say much else on the topic, because her face drops. She turns on a heel to face the hallway then, holding her arm out for you to grab. “Shall we proceed to the feast?”

Upon entering the dining room, it’s exactly how you remembered it to be.

Warm light fills the space; swathes of bronze and gold from the setting sun dip through the windows on one side, illuminating every crevice of the room. The food is already splayed out along the table, where Halaena and Aegon sit in their respective chairs. Aegon gives you a perverted look over, seemingly surprised at how much you’ve changed. If he senses your disgust, he doesn't express it. He’d likely find delight in it anyway.

On the contrary, Halaena beams and jumps up to give you a massive hug. It fills you with such a great warmth. You’ve missed this. She was always like a sister to you.

Halaena comments on your dress and makes a pathetic attempt to mold her joyful smile into something more polite by saying, "You look beautiful, Princess."

Of course, she fails horribly, and you compliment her back. She pulls away with a giggle and loops her arm around yours to lead you to a seat — and then you see him.

There, Aemond is seated at the end of the table, leaning back in the chair with practiced poise. Cool, composed, unmoving.

You lock eyes.

Aemond’s hair is his crowning glory; diamond-white, perfectly straight, and soft as sin as it sweeps along the edge of his jaw. The long strands drape over his broad shoulders, a stark contrast against the black high-neck tunic he’s wearing. Silver buckles pull the leather taught across his wide chest, definitely tailored to fit his well-built frame.

And his face... Gods, his face. It looks so much more different than you could have ever imagined.

He has the type of profile that marble sculptors carve: a razor-sharp jawline and high cheekbones, lips drawn into a serious expression and one eye a gleaming blue. The other is covered by an eyepatch, and you have to swallow the lump in your throat when you see the deep-set scar that stretches along his face.

You understand it now: the Gods didn't drive away darkness when light was made. Instead they created the color obsidian, ravens, and a person known as Aemond Targaryen. A wild, fiery man sculpted from the elements.

Aemond stares on back, and you can see how he takes a heavy breath. His eye scans you up and down, studying the silk gown, your braided hair, and every curve of your body. For a brief moment, he focuses on your breasts — almost as if he’s realized you’ve grown into a beautiful woman: more mature, more composed, fertile and ready for the taking. Something dark rests in the twist of his lips before he brings his attention back onto your face. Your cheeks feel impossibly hot.

It looks like he wants to say something, but bites it back with a slight nod of his head in greeting.

The earth seems to pause and cease its spinning. Your heart slams frantically against your ribcage, like a pendulum or a hare trapped in a cage, lungs refusing to completely submit to your breathing. Slowly, you tread over to the chair adjacent to him and sit down in it.

He feels the shift in the atmosphere too. Same place. Same family. Different you.

“Princess,” Aemond finally says. His voice is so much deeper now, smooth and rich with that accent of his. It has your stomach flipping.

You take a slow breath and urge yourself to glance at him, because you know you'll hate yourself later if you don't. You will stare into that intense eye of his, even if it kills you. You’re sick of all your regrets.

“My Prince,” you respond, trying to control the tremor in your voice by busying yourself with your fork. If Aemond notices, he doesn’t comment on it. “It has been awhile.”

Aemond hums in acknowledgement. “You are surprised by what you see, I presume.”

"And why do you say that?"

“You were staring,” Aemond says coolly. You can feel a heat climb up your cheeks — was it that obvious? “Though I cannot say I blame you,” he adds, finally picking up his utensils and cutting into his meat with a fork and knife.

"You are rather confident, My Prince," you murmur under a breath. “Have you not gained restraint over the years?”

"That is a virtue I am hardly accused of possessing. Don't pout, Princess, it ruins the shape of that pretty mouth.”

You remain silent, blinking at Aemond dumbly while trying to think of a response. He must be able to tell of your embarrassment, because his eye gleams with a feeling too intense to be stated in words. The best word to describe it is pride. Stupid pride.

“We are not married,” you respond in a rush. “Yet you speak dangerously.”

Aemond only stares at you, analyzing your expression, the ends of his lips slightly curled. You take the moment of silence to stuff your mouth with the delicious food in front of you, trying your hardest not to glance back up at him.

The clock is ticking. When will the shouting start, you wonder. How long before there are tears, recriminations, and pain?

A part of you wants to talk about the fun you and him had as kids, but you would feel guilty for bringing it up. Who’s to say that Aemond thinks fondly of those times anymore? Have the good memories been tarnished by the bad? Are they now piles of debris, comprised of grit, black dust, and ever-vanishing with time?

Does he even want to talk about the past at all? You could explain your viewpoint, how you reacted on fear, anger, and impulse that night — and he does deserve to know, because if you were in his place, you would care. You would care to know why the one person you trusted contributed to your downfall.

But … but now is not the right time. Not when your father is indulging in a chat with the Queen, or when Halaena is enjoying her food as Aegon drowns himself in wine. Especially during a supper that is supposed to be joyful and unmarked by the shadows of what’s happened.

Some things are better left unsaid.

So you remain quiet, attempting to listen in on any conversation available.

“Tell me; how do you feel about the betrothal?” Aemond suddenly asks. It takes you aback.

You work up the confidence to look at him again, searching for anything concrete, but all you see are ripples of emotions you don't understand. Swallowing thickly, you bring your attention to your goblet and press the metal to your lips, sipping down some wine. You’re going to need it.

“It was to be expected,” is all you say. Setting your cup down, you clear your throat. “And what are your thoughts?”

Aemond says nothing right away, placing his cutlery onto his plate as his face melts back into a cool expression. You steel yourself for whatever retort he may toss at you.

It doesn’t come.

Instead, his tone is steady when he speaks again. “Marrying you is my duty, Princess. I do not intend to stray from it."

“Well then.” You give him a polite nod. “Your family is very lucky to have someone so dedicated to the cause.”

“I take it that you understand your duty as well,” he says. “And it’s significance.”

“Of course. I’ll do what must be done.”

You watch the bob of Aemond’s throat as he swallows. He looks off into the fireplace that sits across the room, seemingly in thought. Just when you think he’s done talking to you for the night, he speaks, voice almost musical.

“Did you perhaps find a man of interest over the years?”

It’s a question that has your mind reeling and both eyes flying up to him. He’s not looking at you though; his stare remains on the dancing flames, expression scarily neutral. Despite that, you can see the distaste on his lips.

“W-why?” you ask, before steeling your surprise and resorting to humor. “Afraid I might replace you?”

“It is a fair question,” Aemond states. The man leans further back in his chair, the wood squeaking under his weight as he presses for an answer. “I would prefer to know if my wife will be engaging in secret escapades with a low-born.”

Truthfully, you don’t know what to say. Aemond asking about your past love life wasn’t on the agenda for today.

You debate telling him that you still thought about him all these years. That you never thought of another man, or searched for a suitor. Yet the words stick in your throat, and the thought of his handsome face screwing up in protest makes you sick.

The silence urges Aemond to spare a glance your way. His stare alone could have you on your knees, dark and vindictive; you see the spirit of the dragon in his blood, and imagine that’s why you always found him — find him — so much more magnetic than anyone else.

You change the subject.

“Once we marry, you are to be associated with my House forever.” Before he can question the switch in topic, you quickly add, “It will not be good for your image. I love my parents, but they only think about status these days. People may think you are marrying me for strength. To gain power.”

Aemond seems to mull this over. If he agrees, you wouldn’t know; he has trained his face to remain neutral. It tells you nothing. “Then let it be.”

You tilt your head at him now, a slight frown blooming upon your mouth. “So I am to marry a prince who does not pay any mind to what his subjects think of him?”

“A tragedy that is,” Aemond says sarcastically. He crosses his legs and rests an arm on the table, staring down at you from the bridge of his nose. “I am grateful that our roles are not switched, for I would have dove headfirst into the Dragon Pit had I been in your place.”

“You should have your tongue removed for that,” you say boldy, half-joking.

"My body is yours. Do what you will.”

You’re honestly surprised at his answer. It’s not supposed to be dirty, no, but there is hidden intent behind it. It plants some interesting images in your head. Aemond’s cold eye is still on you now, chilly and unrelenting. You are vaguely aware of how he taps his fingers along the wood of the table, awaiting your reply.

“Do not say such things,” you almost stutter. “Your name cannot protect you forever.”

“The name you will be taking?”

Your mouth slightly agape, you can only stare at him. Aemond turns his attention back to his food, lifting his cup to his mouth; but before he takes a drink, you catch his gaze flit over to meet yours. It almost looks like he’s fighting a smirk, the way his lower lip seems to quiver.

It feels like he’s taunting you. Testing you. You don’t like it, not at all. And even still… it reminds you of the days you used to gently tease each other. A fond memory.

You can’t bring yourself to actually be mad.

“Does something humor you, My Prince?” you ask anyway, egged on by him. You try to sound upset, but fall short; a tinge of glee laces your tone.

“Hmm,” Aemond quietly hums, setting his goblet down. You think you can see the ghost of a smile on his face: barely there, almost invisible. “Not a thing.”

Much to your delight, the dinner went well. Better than expected.

You had engaged in conversation with Halaena after awhile, listening to her stories of the bugs she has caught over the years and what they do. In return, you tell her of the things you have done which she listens to with an unbridled joy and sparkling eyes.

Aemond had watched everything in silence. Not an angry sort of quiet, but one where there are no words that have to be said. If anything, he seemed sort of pleased with how well you and his beloved sister were getting along.

Now it was late, with the sky having melted into a navy-black, pitted with the dappled light of stars and wisps of clouds. You have been thinking of Aemond ever since you made it back to your chambers earlier, changing into your night gown and undoing the braid in your hair. Although you tried your best to repress the gnawing feeling, there was one thing you knew you must do.

You need to talk to Aemond.

There is no dodging the elephant in the room. You need to sort out boundaries, talk about the wedding, children.

So, gathering as much courage you could possibly muster, you slip out of your bedroom and pad down the corridors. One thing you notice is that the Red Keep is remarkably calm at night compared to how active it is during the daylight hours. Tranquil, almost. The only noise you hear are the echoes of your feet on the stone floors.

You reach the entrance of Aemond’s chamber quickly, remembering exactly where it was from when you were kids. Taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles on the wooden door.

You wonder how much courage it will take to engage in casual conversation with Aemond again, something that has never given you trouble with him as a child. A worry you experienced with other people but not with him. Never with him. When will you be able to speak to him about normal things?

Nothing happens for a couple moments. But just when you are about to knock again, the door swings open to reveal Aemond on the other side.

There’s no more of that boyish charm.

Aemond holds himself taller now; his shoulders look broader, his back looks straighter, and his head is held higher. He appears serious, yet also perplexed, probably wondering why exactly you are showing up to greet him in the middle of the night. He must notice that you are in your night clothes, judging by how his attention turns to the flow of your silk gown. “Trouble sleeping, Princess?”

“Do you … wish to discuss some things?” you suggest gently, which brings Aemond’s eye from your body and onto your face again.

“It is unavoidable, is it not?”

“Yes,” you agree. Aemond hums.

He opens the door wide then, gesturing with a hand for you to walk in.

Walking into his room slowly, he closes the door behind you before standing beside the fireplace, clearly falling deep in thought. A part of you wants to give up and abandon ship, but before you can even take a single step, Aemond turns his head to meet your eyes.

You offer him a rare smile which he responds to with a look of suspicion, clearly picking up on your agenda for coming here. “You wish to speak about the wedding, I presume,” he finally says. You nod.

“Humor me, then, Princess. What will you need in this marriage?”

“It’s not what I need,” you tell him softly, crossing your arms over your chest in thought, thumbs stroking at smooth fabric. “It’s what I want. For the future.”

“And what would that be?” Aemond replies, the fireplace’s flames painting swirls of orange and yellow upon the razor-edged plains of his face.

“I want to have freedom. I do not wish to be condemned to the palace all day. I also want to keep our children out of as many political affairs as possible. The court is no place for kids.”

“Already pondering the idea of children?” Aemond taunts.

It’s a struggle for you to keep your composure at that. You’re actually a bit embarrassed. "If we are to be wed, we are expected to produce as many children as possible. To spread the Targaryen name. It is not abnormal to plan these sort of things out.”

“Perhaps,” Aemond states simply. “I admire your resolve, Princess, but you speak of something that cannot be done.”

You try to ward a potential frown from spoiling your face. “You are the Prince. I am sure you can figure out something. Or are you not as clever as I have heard?”

Aemond gives a small smirk. His tone conveys some form of appreciation which makes you feel proud. “You have high expectations of me, then.”

“I suppose,” you admit.

“I have the same high expectations for you.”

You fight back the shyness that his statement causes, but you doubt you’re as successful in appearing deadpan like him. “And?”

“And,” Aemond continues lowly, “You have upheld them and more.”

You nearly choke, both surprised and flattered by the answer. Aemond can tell; he has a dark amusement in his profile, which you flick your gaze down to avoid. It is hard to ignore him for long though: Gods, he's just so gorgeous.

He’s the balance between elegance and danger. Distant because of his righteousness, and having such a moral fortitude that he is beautiful in a seductive and forbidden way.

You curse him. Curse him for having hair as fair as snow and eyes the shade of Lobelia flowers. Curse him for having the grace of a panther and skillful, slender hands.

That’s when you get the feeling that Aemond is just waiting for the right moment to unload what's been going on in his life. You beat him to it.

“How have you been?” you murmur. It seems to catch him by surprise with the way his lips slightly part and his brow softens into a straight line. He pauses and turns beside the fireplace, one hand propped against the stone.

When Aemond says nothing, you add more boldly, “Did you miss me, My Prince?”

He glances over his shoulder then and just stares, soaking in every piece of you he can. Each feature of his face is adorned with conviction. Your skin begins to tingle, goosebumps dancing along your spine, radiating outward to your exposed arms with a hair-raising energy.

“You ruined me,” is all he says.

You notice that he's trying to withdraw from the situation — not physically because he's firmly planted in place — but rather by burying any emotional aspects of himself. His face is awash with frustration, distress, and contempt.

“I have done nothing to you, My Prince,” you defend.

Aemond’s eye swivels to you slowly. That once-familiar stare is suddenly unnerving, forcing your breath to halt in your throat and your body to freeze like a frightened animal. You are ready. You know what he is going to say. But it still rips into you and burns as fiercely as barbed wire coiled around your heart, twisted until the organ may burst.

“You betrayed me.”

“I did not,” you say, voice shaking. “You were out of line. You stole Vhagar and proceeded to toss insults around. Hurt your nephews and nieces.”

“I was doing what must be done. The Valeryans had their chance to claim Vhagar,” Aemond retorts. “Is it my fault that they waited so long? That my nephews are not proud of their name?”

“Everyone was angry because the second you got a dragon, you acted like you were better than them. You humiliated them. And now?” You take one heaving breath, your entire body trembling. “People are afraid of you. I have heard the rumors of how you can be when you train with others. It’s not training with you. If you had a sharper edge to your sword, they would be attending their own funeral; you know it, I know it, they know it. You bully others just like you were. Does that make you proud?”

For the first time since you’ve reunited, you glimpse a hint of hostility in Aemond’s eye. He is obviously making an effort to appear composed and unbothered to impress you. But you’ve hit a nerve and his gaze hardens to glare daggers at you.

“So that is all?” Aemond proclaims harshly. His tone is wolfish now. “You have come here to remind me of my proclaimed wrong-doings? To spit in my face everything you have been wanting to say all these years?”

“When did you become so bitter? So hateful?” You stare at him wildly, profile twisted into something turbulent. “I was just protecting the people I consider my family!”

It must trigger something in Aemond. The words knock down those walls of his, burst the damn, sending that fury inside him whirling, coaxing him to raise his voice and finally yell:

“I was your family!”

The only way to express the sensation that explodes inside your chest is to imagine walking slowly on a broken window. So slowly that you can feel every bit of glass pierce and glide upward into the heel of your foot, each step digging red, horrific lines into your skin.

The tempest in your soul has officially burnt out.

And here, with your blood thundering through your body and drumming an even rhythm upon his, Aemond is just a boy. A vulnerable boy that could be stopped by a sharp enough blade, as long as its your hand on the hilt.

Those words Aemond said — they were ones of anger, yet none had the intent to injure or bruise. You should know how approach him, except you don’t. You need to say something that can release you from the desolate and ominous silence that fills the room.

“I’m sorry,” you eventually whisper.

You expect Aemond to retaliate. To fight back, defend his honor. He doesn’t though. Instead, he fixes his gaze onto your profile and speaks.

“I used to think the Targaryen name was descending into one ruled by hatred. I presumed it was our doing, that the blood feud ruined all that was honorable,” Aemond says gravely. “But I have been hateful for a long time.”

You know what he means.

His nephews. The ordeal with the pig. Being dragonless and teased by his peers for it. Feeling like the odd one out, overlooked by others by his incompetent brother’s potential future reign. It all invoked an anger in him that he buried — until it was dug up by family and unleashed one night, black-red and hot and stinging.

But it’s not the complete truth.

“You weren’t hateful,” you say slowly. “Not to me.”

It’s scary: you expected that to spark something inside of him, to wither the hurricane brewing. But Aemond is so calm in the throes of shock that it's as though any breeze would be nothing more than a breath whispering over him. There is no tremor in his jaw, no twitching in his shoulders, and not a single tear on his ivory cheeks. Nobody blinks.

You told yourself that no words could heal the broken trust between you. Despite that, they continue to tumble out. “I understand if we cannot go back to the way it was before. That’s alright … well, it’s not, but I understand why. I really do. And—”

“Who am I to you after so many years?”

You don't immediately understand what Aemond asked, and it takes a moment for it to process. But then you do realize, and it comes with a painful stab in the chest and a wince, because Aemond thinks you loathe him, and he shouldn’t … he shouldn’t be thinking like that because it could not be further from the truth.

You really want to have a break down. Not one that has you going mad, throwing shit and screaming, but perhaps a cry with panting breaths and shivering and a few tears. One that is completely internal and rips you apart from the inside out.

When you look up, Aemond is directly in front of you. He had bridged the gap at some point. You just keep staring and staring — because there is nothing else you can do but ogle him as if he were the most extraordinary thing you have ever seen. Finally, you speak.

“You’re Aemond,” comes your response. Small, meek. “You’re Aemond.”

The middle of your core stings then, like the fireworks that laid dormant there had finally been set aflame, torching every artery — as if the weight of the man’s stare was too much, as if being looked at by Aemond was unbearable.

And it is, you suppose. But not in a bad way; unbearable in that you wanted him. You wanted to meld your friendship so bad that it hurt. You're preoccupied with the way your subconscious shouts the truth: you adore him endlessly.

You cannot hold back anymore.

You kiss Aemond Targaryen with everything you have, drenching every worry of yours and love for him onto his lips, knowing that you … you are acting appropriately this time. This feels good. This is right.

Aemond releases a low, deep grunt as a surprised response, urging you on. You kiss him fiercely, to taste the warmth of his mouth, and feel stars erupt and dissipate behind your closed eyes. He swallows down the desperate sigh that spills out of your mouth as you steady his pointed jaw with both of your hands.

There’s the ridge of his scar under your thumb, the drumming of the blood in your jugular, and the softness of his platinum hair as you move to twine your fingers in it. There’s the sweep of his hands — sliding over your hips, waist, ribs — soothing burning skin as he reels you closer against him.

It feels like an eternity before your lips separate with the slightest sound. You rest your hands on Aemond’s wide shoulders, pressing your foreheads together between trembling exhalations.

“I could never hate you,” you assure, squeezing the leather of his tunic in your hands as your noses brush together. Aemond has a palm on the nape of your neck, holding you in place with the heaving rise and fall of his chest, gazing at you like you’re something celestial. His one eye, so intense and blue and electric.

You don’t want to let go. Not when the edges of Aemond’s lips coyly turn upward and he tilts his head to kiss your neck quietly, followed by more kisses that are sprinkled across your collarbone like a vow or a promise. You let out a shaky sigh and he finally pulls back, his voice deep and rich but soft. So, so soft.

“Ride Vhagar with me. See what it means to be with a Targaryen.”

You look up at him in surprise. “Right now?”

“Tomorrow,” he corrects.

“I have never ridden a dragon—”

“And?”

“I do not know how.”

“No one knows how to ride a dragon until they ride a dragon.”

Your expression must soften, because Aemond’s does in return. There’s a few seconds where neither of you say anything, until his calloused fingers come to settle on your cheek.

“I will see you tomorrow at dawn, Princess.”

At a loss for words, you offer him a weak nod, breath coming out as a stutter. Aemond trains his eye on you, searching for a single bit of protest. When he comes up empty, he leans down to whisper close to your lips, hot breath puffing along your chin. “Be ready for me.”

In that beautiful, terrifying moment, there’s an epiphany. A realization.

An understanding that maybe... just maybe ... this can be fixed. This rift, these burnt bridges of the past. You can see the yearning in Aemond too: he wants the same thing.

It can be mended. Your friendship, your trust, your love — the feelings are still there between the two of you.

Bent, but not broken.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #hotd fic #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond one eye #aemond oneshot #aemond targaryen one shot #millie’s works — 📓

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