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#HOTD smut
flowerandblood · 2 days
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Refinement (Oneshot)
[ canon • Aemond x little sister • female ]
[ warnings: incest obviously, oral sex, smut, angst, sexual tension, obsession, mention of arranged engagement ]
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[ description: During her Name Day, his younger sister wants to run away to the city. Things don't go according to plan, however, and he, as her older brother, wants to comfort her. Anon request. ]
Part 3 of the Appearances, can be read as standalone story.
My other works: Masterlist
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To his delight, the months before their nuptials he and his younger sister spent in each other's constant company, growing closer to each other. At first she would shyly visit the places he usually frequented, the library or the courtyard, and he was content to interrupt his own affairs by having at least a short conversation with her.
Although he resented discussions about nothing, usually tired of them, with her he could have a light conversation all the time − her questions and answers were always thoughtful and balanced, sometimes filled with a sweet naivety or curiosity from which he felt the heat in his lower abdomen.
"Today is my Name Day, lēkia (big brother)." She cooed sweetly, grasping his fingers in hers − his hand against hers seemed rough and large to him, hers, on the other hand, smooth and delicate as silk.
He murmured under his breath, looking at their intertwined fingers thinking back to the evening the day before, when he had guided her hand under the material of his breeches again, as usual demanding relief, which he then reciprocated with his characteristic devotion.
He wanted her to be convinced that he would make a good husband.
"I know, dōna hāedar (sweet little sister)." He replied calmly, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, thinking of the gift he had prepared for her, a beautiful necklace created especially at his command. A girlish, happy smile appeared on her face, a kind of excitement and anticipation emanating from her that intrigued him.
Something was going through her mind.
"There's one thing I've been dreaming about." She whispered, and he leaned back, stretching comfortably in his chair; they sat together under a beautiful, ancient arbour surrounded by a garden, opposite them only the view of the sea, spreading low beneath the walls of the keep, the sound of wind and leaves all around them.
"What is it?" He asked lowly, fiddling with the small ring on her finger which he had given her just after their father had officially confirmed their betrothal.
A symbol that she was meant only for him, the sapphire eye surrounded by a frame of intertwined golden stems and leaves shone brightly in the sunlight.
He heard her twist in her seat, delighted apparently that he had asked the question. She grunted quietly.
"I wish to escape to the town tonight." She said lightly. He looked at her with a smirk full of amusement and indulgence, convinced that she was teasing him.
"On the dragon?" He asked mockingly and pressed his lips into a thin line, swallowing hard when he felt her take her hand from his grasp, her gaze clouded, her brow arched in pain of humiliation and disbelief.
She stood up from her seat and, shocked, he watched her silhouette disappear between the tall shrubs with his lips slightly parted, wondering what had happened. He moved behind her immediately, sighing impatiently − as he got closer he grabbed her arm and forced her to stop. She looked him straight in the eye, tears of rage in her eyes.
"− forgive me, I didn't wish to −"
"You can leave the keep whenever you desire. You can fly on Vhagar whenever you desire. But I can't. I am a prisoner of these walls, our mother does not allow me to travel anywhere. Is that what amuses you so much? Is that what you mock?" She asked in a shaky, embittered voice, wiping the tears from her red cheeks with her free hand, her lower lip quivering with nerves.
He touched his fingers to her cheek, but she rejected his hand, making him put more strength into pulling her close − she hissed in discomfort when his fingers tightened on her waist covered only by the thin material of her soft gown.
"I would never mock you, sister. However, you know it is not a matter of our mother's bad will, but of your safety." He replied slowly, trying to say each word with reason so as to explain to her that he did not intend to offend her.
He understood what she desired, but he would have gone mad at the thought of her leaving the keep only in the company of the guards.
"What danger would I be in if my betrothed accompanied me?" She muttered with a bitterness from which he felt his throat squeeze, only now understanding what she was trying to convey to him.
She wasn't complaining to him.
He swallowed loudly and hummed under his breath.
"Is this what my future wife desires?" He asked quietly. She looked at him with a pained expression and nodded, looking into his eyes with hope.
Having no other choice, albeit reluctantly, he agreed.
They made arrangements to meet at one of the side passages that were rarely patrolled by guards − both of them sneaked down the narrow stone steps clad in grey robes and cloaks under the cover of darkness, the sky above them cloudless and full of stars.
"You are to stay close to me. Understood?" He asked warningly, and she nodded quickly, looking up at him happily, her plump cheeks red with excitement and joy.
He murmured low, delighted when her warm, soft lips clung to his in a tender, sticky kiss − he locked her in the strong embrace of his arms, cupping one of her cheeks in his palm, her fingers stroking his neck and jaw making his manhood throb hard in his breeches. He pulled away from her and sighed heavily, tense.
"Let's go."
It seemed to him that as they stepped out into the main courtyard of the town, lit only by torches and bonfires kindled by night merchants and bards, she was intrigued by everything that was happening around her − his fingers entwined with hers as they walked arm in arm around the crowds of shouting, noisy people. She looked up at him with a wide smile and hugged her cheek to his shoulder when she noticed his anxious, grave face.
"− I am grateful to you for your dedication, my love −" She said softly and he sighed heavily, kissing the top of her head.
He wanted to return to the keep as quickly as possible, fearing for her safety, but she insisted that they move towards the various stalls, watching intently as the men roasted meat over large fires, which they then sold. They stopped hearing a theatrical play from a distance, men dressed as women pretending to be his mother and their stepsister, Rhaenyra.
"You will not take the crown! My son the drunkard will sit on the Iron Throne!" Thundered one of the men in a too-tight green gown, his voice pretending to be high and feminine − a third actor appeared on stage, a blond-haired young man who was apparently supposed to be Aegon.
When the man began to pretend to vomit while clutching their mother's breasts, loud, mocking laughter echoed all around them. He saw that his sister looked away, her lips pressed together, her eyebrows arched in confusion and embarrassment.
"Let's go." He said lowly, regretting that she had seen this, but believing on the other hand that even if he had wanted to, he could not keep her unconscious forever.
The kingdom had no love for them, and their safety was apparent.
"I regret asking you to do this. Forgive me." She muttered as he escorted her to her chamber, the joy and contentment gone from her face, replaced by sadness and disappointment. He lifted her chin with his finger for her to look at him, recognising that he should better prepare her for what awaited them.
"The kingdom is divided. The only thing that unites our family now is the person of the King. Nothing else." He said lowly, and she blinked, thinking about his words, swallowing hard after a moment.
"And our blood? Our heritage?" She asked uncertainly, and he involuntarily snorted at her words, shaking his head.
"If our sister had our heritage, dignity and the future of our lineage in mind, she would not have made her bastard son her heir to the throne." He hissed coldly, looking her straight in the eye − he knew something had changed in his face, from which she twitched all over, in her expression something he recognised well.
She was afraid of him.
"− sister −" He whispered softly, stroking her soft cheek with his thumb, wanting her to understand that although filled with anger, he would never harm her.
"Against good customs, will you stay by my side? Will you let me fall asleep in your arms?" She asked quietly, and he swallowed loudly, feeling his manhood momentarily swell and pulse in his breeches, betraying an overwhelming desire to comply with her request.
He hesitated, wondering what their mother would say, but seeing her pleading gaze and her need for closeness, he decided that he could not deny her his presence when she articulated that she needed him.
He was to be her husband and she was to be his wife.
His place was with her, always.
That was why he agreed and followed her into her quarters, looking around beforehand to make sure no one would disturb them. They both pulled off their cloaks − his sister turned her back to him, startling him completely when she untied her breeches and the simple grey tunic he had brought her earlier, staying only in her snow-white nightgown.
He looked away, embarrassed, feeling his heart pounding like mad, not knowing what to do with himself.
He had never seen her in such a negligee before, and although his whole body screamed to look at her and admire her beauty, he wasn't sure it was appropriate and worthy of her honour before their nuptials.
"Come, brother." He heard her soft, warm voice once she had laid down on the bed, extending her hand to him.
He moved towards her, pulling his boots off his feet, laying down beside her with his heart in his throat, involuntarily noticing the outline of her sweet breasts under the thin, translucent material of her shirt.
He sighed quietly as her whole body snuggled into him instantly, seeking protection and comfort − unwittingly his arms locked around her waist, his hands sinking into her hair and buttocks, his lips placing a warm, lazy kiss on the top of her head.
It was her Name Day, and she was distressed and frightened, to which he had unwittingly contributed.
He swallowed hard at the thought, feeling involuntarily guilty, not knowing what he could do to comfort her, to turn her thoughts again from what the future might have brought.
He, her husband, was supposed to protect her and their future children − it was his role to worry about what fate would bring, not hers.
He shuddered when he heard her quiet voice, combing through her soft dark hair with the tips of his fingers.
"If I am to become your wife, why do you treat me like a little child?" She asked regretfully, and he felt his hand stop in mid-motion, the air stuck in his lungs.
"I do not follow." He replied lowly, feeling discomfort in his chest hearing her words.
She raised herself up on her elbow, looking up at his face − her eyebrows were arched in sadness and uncertainty, her full, shiny lips clenched into a thin line. He dared to touch his thumb to her cheek, wanting to soften whatever was about to leave her mouth.
"If war is coming, you may need me and Saraxes. Just because bloodshed is not my desire does not mean I am blind. Do you think I'm not a true dragon because I don't have your white hair and violet eyes?" She asked in a trembling voice with a reproach and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.
The thought that she had felt rejected and left out by everyone all this time like himself made him quickly lift himself up on his arm, pressing his nose against her soft face, her hot, trembling breath enveloping his face.
"No. No, my love. You must understand that it is my weakness towards you, it is my fear that makes me wish not to endanger you." He muttered, horrified at how she perceived the whole affair and his actions, that he, gods take pity, thought her foolish or incapable of understanding such complicated, male matters.
She read the same books as he did, spoke to him as an equal on subjects from which he would never have expected a woman to have extensive rhetoric, not because he thought them incapable of it, but because they rarely delved into it.
Yet here she was, well aware of the importance he attached to sword-fighting, knowing as much about his history of the various weapons, their parts and how they were used as she knew about poetry or philosophy.
She swallowed quietly, her eyes shining in trust, in hope, as his mouth brushed hers encouragingly, her lips parted invitingly, allowing his tongue to slide deep into her throat.
She moaned sweetly, innocently as the tips of their tongues licked each other tentatively with a quiet clicks again and again − she sighed as he gently pushed her to lie on her back, trailing his fingers over her soft face, the wonderful scent of her oils filling his entire lungs, her lips fleshy as sweet fruit.
"− brother −" She murmured between their loud, tender kisses, her fingers entwined in his hair, one of her hands removing his eye patch from his face with an impatient, confident motion.
He looked at her, at her pretty face without fear or shame, sure for several moons now that the sight of his scar, his sapphire eye did not frighten her, that she loved him whole.
His sweet, tender, devoted sister.
She pulled him to her by the neck, her lips, impatient that he had pulled away from her for so long demanded another warm caress, his slick tongue ran over her palate making him, though he tried to control himself, completely hard.
"− take me −" She whispered and he felt the air stuck in his throat − he broke the kiss, looking at her with eye wide open in shock, panting heavily, her cheeks flushed with shame, her gaze pleading, full of desire. "− please −"
"− I − gods, you know, you know how much I crave you − but we can't, not before our nuptials −" He muttered wearily, once again seeing on her face that cruel expression of embittered disappointment that was breaking his heart.
He suddenly remembered what Aegon had once told him about, how a man's tongue was capable of giving a woman wonderful pleasure, and though he was ashamed to ask him for details, he decided in an act of desperation that perhaps it would help.
His gift to her, proof of how much he cherished her.
"− let me do something else − do you trust me? −" He asked in a trembling voice − something in her gaze changed and she nodded quickly, her fingertips ran over his cheek in a gesture so tender he felt his throat clench with emotion.
She was perfect.
"− spread your thighs − do not fret −" He added quickly, seeing that her whole body had gone breathless and tensed at his words, uncertainty in her eyes. He heard her swallow hard as she obediently followed his command, she drew in a loud breath as his hands lifted the material of her nightgown higher, above her hips.
"− ah −" She mumbled, in some subconscious, innocent gesture trying to cover herself back up, horrified that he wanted to expose the most intimate part of her body − his hands stopped her, his gaze fixed on her face flushed with emotion.
"− let me, my sweetest − let me take care of you − I won't hurt you −" He whispered, and she pulled her hand back, placing it beside her face, her puffy lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath.
She trusted him.
She trusted that, as her future husband, he knew perfectly well what she needed.
He let out a loud breath through his mouth, trying to hide his own nervousness, his trembling hands gently exposing her swollen, leaking womanhood that he had caressed so often with his fingers.
He involuntarily licked his lips at the thought that her folds looked like the flesh of a fruit and indeed when he ran his thumb over them, they were as usual wonderfully moist and warm to the touch.
Her body arched backwards as he began to gently tease her puffy bud with circular, slow motions of his thumb, in some subconscious involuntary reflex her thighs spread wider in front of him, making his aching cock pulse hard in his breeches.
Gods, how much he wanted to take her now, to sink deep inside her, to feel how tight she was.
"− close your eyes −" He commanded, knowing that if she looked at him he would never do what he wanted out of shame − he heard her swallow loudly before closing her eyelids a moment later, her chest rising and falling in uneven breaths.
She trembled when she felt him lean in, his warm breath enveloping her now swollen folds, glistening in the starlight from her own wetness − something about the sight, the smell of her made him run the tip of his tongue over her slit, her hands clenched in his hair, her body arched back, wanting to escape, a loud, surprised moan escaped her lips.
"− g-gods − brother − what are you −" She whimpered and cried out as the fingers of his free hand tightened warningly on her plushy hip, pushing her back to him, his thumb squeezed and rubbed her pearl making her squirm before him in pleasure and disbelief.
"− be quiet −" He ordered impatiently, sinking his face into her soft, warm womanhood, his tongue ran over her folds again, invading between them for a try, teasing her swollen bud with his finger.
He sighed loudly as he felt how hard her legs trembled in his embrace, heard her tighten her lips and stifle the moans that wanted to escape her throat, felt his cock twitch hard as her fingers pressed him closer to her bare flesh.
She wanted more.
"− brother −" She mumbled, spreading her thighs wider, wanting to feel him deeper − encouraged, he forced his tongue inside her, invading the very tip of her upper wall and the spot where he usually dug his fingers in, teasing her pearl with strokes of his thumb. He felt her fleshy, hot, tight core begin to throb, the wonderful taste of her moisture spreading across his palate, making him gasp in delight.
He could already understand why Aegon had spoken of it with such enthusiasm.
She tasted wonderful, like the flesh of a ripe fruit, ready to sink in and bite into it.
His sweet sister.
"− mmm −" He gasped out, pushing his tongue all the way into her, feeling her hips begin to respond to his movements with rocking of her hips, reaching out to meet him. He licked and sucked her pearl, rubbing it with the tip of his nose, still pressing it with his thumb, a quiet, lewd sound of slurping and clicking of her wetness all around them.
At last she fell apart, a long, intense fulfilment shook her lovely body, sweet, girlish, innocent whimpers erupted from her lips − she begged him, babbled his name, calling him, pressing his face against her leaking cunt, delighted that he was licking devotedly everything that spilled out of her.
"− my sister's sweet nectar −" He gasped with devotion and delight, again and again rubbing her opening with his rough tongue. His hand slipped down to his breeches, sliding under them, grasping his swollen, aching cock, squeezing it at the base, not stopping his caresses, intending to pet her like this all night and come on his own hand.
"− brother − no more −" She mumbled out, terrified that he wasn't stopping, her over-stimulated, sore insides clenching greedily around nothing, her hands trying to gently push him away but to no avail − he only hummed under his breath, stunned by the warmth of her flesh, her closeness and her scent.
She smelled like sin.
"− I'm afraid I intend to fall asleep tonight with my face between your soft thighs, my love −"
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eraenaa · 2 days
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Desperate Requirement
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Slytherin Aemond Targaryen x Reader (Hogwarts AU)
Synopsis: It’s hard being horny at Hogwarts. Luckily, you and Aemond always found a way to relieve your needs.
Warnings: Barely any plot; just smut, Mature, 18+, Oral Sex (F & M receiving), Fingering, Handjob, P in V sex, Semi-Public Relations, Shower Sex, Very Horny Aemond, Not Proofread
Word Count: 2,660
A/N: I really wanted to do Aemond in Hogwarts because when I first watched HOTD, I was just recovering from my Draco Malfoy phase.
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“Aemond,” You called, voice distracted and heavily laced with pleasure as his lips were on your neck and his cold hands were hiking up the hem of your skirt higher and higher. “We… we can’t do this here,” You called, your hands tangling in his hair, not at all making any move to push him away and hinder where your actions were leading. You were pushed up against the door of one of the many broom closets in the castle. Aemond pulled you in there as you were on your way to your next class. His actions made you completely forget about the spell in charms you stayed up to study the night before. “The professor is still in a meeting… they’ll be late. Why not capitalize on the opportunity?” He said against your skin, his hand going to your waist to pull you closer to him.
Your eyes fluttered to a close as lips returned to suck on your sensitive skin, making certain to leave a mark. Already amused, he thought about which way you would once again hide them. Will you cover them with those pastes you smuggled from the muggle world? Or perhaps will you, once again, constantly wear your house scarf even though the weather or setting did not reacquire it. Maybe you’ll surprise him and be bold enough to show all the marks Aemond intended to give you to mark his territory. 
You sighed as his hands tried to unbutton your shirt; when his cold touch grazed the warm skin of your chest, your sensibilities returned. “I—I can’t be intimate with you here,” You whispered and pushed Aemond away. “Why not? Just earlier today, you were straddling me in my bed so I would not leave,” Aemond mused, recalling the scene that initially made him yearn for you so harshly at this hour of the day. “Well, that was in the privacy of your room! Anyone can walk in here and catch us! A student, a house elf— Merlin forbid, a professor!” You said and tried to push Aemond away but he would not have it. “Please, darling, just…” Aemond whispered, and you tried not to grow soft at the slight tone of begging in his voice. “Aemond,” you sighed as he took hold of your wrist and guided it downwards, making you feel the need in him. 
You moaned quietly as you felt his hard length, proving that he needed you so greatly.  You could no longer restrain yourself as you palmed his length through his trousers, hisses coming from his lips as you pleasured him through the fabric of his uniform. Cold hands found their way to your breasts, kneading the mounds and making you bite your lip as wetness gathered at your cunt. “Aemond… oh, Aemond,” You sighed, tilting your head back as one of his cold hands trailed downward and cupped your heat. His fingers rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves as you continued to palm his throbbing length. Your breathing mixed as your stifled moans and sighs echoed through the broom closet, the both of you reaching your peaks even though your skin had not actually touched. Aemond panted harshly as he spilled himself in his uniform, the spot where his seed gathered turning a darker shade. 
“Scourgify,” you took your wand from your robe and uttered the enchantment. Aemond gave you a lazy smile as his sapphire-colored eye was still hazy from his release. You breathed out a sigh as his lips found yours once more, his tongue teasing your bottom lip and seeking entrance, but you could not be distracted anymore. “We have to go,” You pushed him away and turned to open the door, peeking out your head to make certain that no passerby would see the both of you emerging from the utility room. The both of you reached charms class at the nick of time. Your cheeks flushed, and your neck was covered by your wool scarf even though it was unseasonably warm. Aemond sat beside you, demeanor more lax and a satisfied smirk on his thin lips, and his hand resting on your upper thigh throughout the whole of the lesson. Effectively distracting you from the professor’s lecture. 
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You watched Aemond through the whole of his quidditch practice. You savored the way how focused he was trying to catch the snitch. Not missing the stunts he did to impress you nor the suggestive looks he’ll give when he passes you. By the end of their practice, your lip was between your teeth, and your legs were tightly crossed to relieve the need that had gathered in the past two hours of watching him fly around the quidditch pitch. 
You quickly made your way down from the pitch minutes before they dismounted their brooms. You sneaked your way into the locker rooms to wait for Aemond. He was the captain of the Slytherin team, and one of the benefits of that was he had his own private shower stall and dressing room to change in. You bit your lip as you stood in the shower stall, hearing the distant sound of footsteps and chatter from the team. Your breathing hitched as Aemond’s voice was drawing closer, him lecturing one of his teammates about the game, clearly aggravated and frustrated. It would seem this endeavor would serve him beneficially. You bit your cheeks as Aemond’s words died on his tongue as he saw you standing stark naked in his shower stall, waiting for him. 
He waved off his teammate and did not waste a second before wrapping his arms around you and placing his lips against yours. Your heart stuttered as you realized his tense and rugged figure turned putty in your arms, the frustrations you felt oozing from him miraculously disappearing. You sighed as you two were enveloped in the hot water, your lips never parting even though it was a bit of a struggle to breathe. You gasped in shock as Aemond hoisted you on his waist, pushing you against the tiled wall and aligning his length in your entrance. “You wouldn’t let me fuck you in the privacy of the closet, but you would happily let me have my way with you here? In the men’s bathroom, with my teammates just in the distance? How lewd had you become?” Aemond mused as you very slowly sank down on his cock, him making sure to catch every little reaction you would make as your cunt was once again filled by him. 
You whimpered and moaned as you were fully filled by him, Aemond hissing as the tip of his cock rested perfectly in the spongey spot of your cunt. The spot that made your eyes roll back in your head and your back arch. “You have to be quiet, my darling… wouldn’t want to be caught now, would you?” Aemond hummed, his hands gripping your bottom, and his hips thrust to meet yours, your moans spewing quietly into the side of his neck as you buried your face there. “Aemond, what’s taking you so long?” His brother Aegon screamed from the locker room. “Give me a minute!” Aemond yelled but his tone was laced with concentration that made his other teammates suspicious. “Is he having a fucking wank?” You heard one of his teammates ask, and Aemond buried his cock deep inside, his lips continuing his torment on the side of your neck. 
“Aemond… oh, I’m… fuck, I’m coming,” You moaned, dazed by the pleasure he gave. Aemond bit his lip as he moved one of his hands to cover your mouth, already knowing that you were ready to scream when you reached your peak. It truly was flattering for him to hear you scream out in pleasure; his name would always be uttered as you came, but he could not let the two of you be found in such a state. You panted against his hand, dazed eyes watching him tilt his head back as he came deep inside you, quiet groans leaving his lips. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” Aemond sighed and kissed your lips, then your cheeks, as you slowly unwrapped your legs around his waist. The two of you were sweaty from the endeavor, but luckily, the shower was just there. 
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“Stop it.” You gritted lowly as Aemond’s hand trailed upward your skirt. You were attending your Defense against the Dark Arts class, but Aemond was determined to distract you from the important lesson. “I need you,” he whispered in your ear as the professor was turned away from the class; you quietly whimpered as he nipped your ear after he whispered the words. “Pay attention; the O.W.Ls are near.” You whispered even though his small action caused you to need as well. Aemond grunted and returned his attention to the lecture, but now you, too, were distracted as well, need pooling between your legs as his hand never left your thigh, only inching higher and higher. 
You bit your lip and raised your hand, excusing yourself to go to the lavatory. “Meet me in the second-floor prefect’s washroom,” You whispered to Aemond after, a sly smirk adorning his lips as you left. You waited impatiently for Aemond to appear, and when he did, you grabbed him by the necktie to smash your lips together. “Hurry, they’ll get suspicious,” You muttered as you two were squished together in a stall. Your fingers tried to undo his trousers, but you frowned as he nudged your hands away, and he instead sank to his knees. “Aemond, what ar—“ You could not finish your thought as he hiked up your skirt and pushed your undergarments to the side so his lips could meet your cunt. 
Moans quickly spewed from your lips, no matter how hard you tried to stifle them. You looked down to see Aemond grinning up at you, his fingers pushing themselves into you. “So fucking wet… you could never resist me, now can you, my darling?” He hummed, then sucked on your bundle of nerves, making you moan louder. “Aemond!” You cried as he curled his fingers, the sound of your wetness and moans echoing through the empty lavatory. “Fuck, you’re so good…” You uttered as you felt your core tighten with the same need for release. His name once again spewed from your lips as you came on lips. You hummed in satisfaction as his lips met yours, tasting your essence on his tongue. 
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“You look gorgeous, my darling,” Aemond smiled as he spun you around. The great hall was decorated for the occasion. The Yule Ball was probably your favorite event at Hogwarts. “You look quite handsome yourself,” You smiled as you gazed up at him. You rested your head on his shoulder as you two swayed to the slow tune of the dance, his hand firmly on your waist. You sighed in contentment as you were in the arms of the boy you had loved since your first day in Hogwarts. “Do you want to get out of here?” You asked quietly as the dance floor became more crowded. Aemond was quick to agree and took hold of your hand to escort you out of the great hall, finding an empty carriage so the two of you could enjoy each other’s company in privacy. 
Your lips danced their familiar dance as Aemond’s hold on your waist was threading upwards and nearing the valley of your breast. Your hands moved to rest upon his thigh, but you gasped in shock and embarrassment as the carriage door flew open, a professor catching the both of you. “Ten points each will be deducted from your house. Now go back to the hall,” they sternly said, and you and Aemond hurriedly disembarked the carriage, your cheeks flaming red in embarrassment. 
You returned to the castle, turning to Aemond wide-eyed as he tried his hardest to stifle his laughs. “Don’t laugh! That was mortifying!” You said, but Aemond shook his head and cupped your heated cheeks. “You looked so adorable,” He laughed and gave your lips a kiss. You breathed in deeply as your heart stuttered at the way he looked at you with adoration. “Where do we go now? The rooms are locked, even our dorms,” You sighed as you two stood in an empty hallway. “Here?” Aemond suggested, but you scrunched up your brows at his ludicrous suggestion. You chewed on your cheeks as the need for Aemond was evermore present. “The astronomy tower?” He asked as you rested your head on his chest, your gaze downward, seeing that he, too, needed you badly. “No, it’s too cold,” You sighed and his arms wrapped around your frame. 
All of a sudden, you hear the sound of light debris falling to the ground. Aemond frowned and took out his wand, preparing for an attack. Your brows furrowed as the empty wall in the hallway started to transform. The blank bricks reveal chiseled carvings and, ultimately, a door opened for the both of you. Your lips gaped, and you turned to Aemond, “Did… did we just summon the room of requirement?” You asked in disbelief. Aemond pulled you into the summoned room that housed a bed and fireplace. You were still in shock that you two had found the room that you thought was a hoax, but shock could not be properly comprehended as his lips were on yours again. Your bodies trailed over to the bed as your articles of clothing were tossed to the floor. You sat by the edge of the bed, gazing up at Aemond whose lips were parted as your hand was wrapped around his length. 
You hear him his as your lips wrap around the tip of his length, your eyes still locked on his as you take in his length deeper into your mouth. “Fuck, darling, you look so pretty with your lips around my cock,” Aemond hummed and cupped your cheek, which was hollowed as you sucked his length. You gagged as the tip of him hit the back of your throat, his loudly groaning at the sensation. You continued on, tears spilling at the side of your eyes, “Such a good girl taking my cock,” Aemond praised as he abruptly pulled out of your cock. He, without warning, turned you around and let your stomach hit the soft mattress, your bum in the air as he squeezed them harshly. 
You let out a loud moan as he plunged his length deep inside you, the wetness you had gathered making lewd noises that accompanied your moans and the crackling fire. “You like that? You like it when I fuck you from behind, don’t you, my darling?” Aemond grunted, his hands gathering your hair and lightly pulling it. The pain adds to your pleasure, and it translates to your walls clenching tightly around him. You could only moan as Aemond’s cold hand reached downwards, and his slender fingers started to draw circles upon your nubbin, your moans growing louder. Begging him for release as your knees dug into the soft, feathered bed and your hands fisted the sheets. 
Aemond felt his release coming as well. He momentarily stopped his thrust to turn you around, wanting to see your pretty face as you came undone and as he filled your cunt with his seed. You feel his weight atop you and his lips against yours. “Aemond… Aemond!” You cried as you came hard on his cock. Your lips moved to his shoulders, and your teeth bit down on his flesh, making him groan in pained pleasure, urging him to spill himself inside you a bit earlier than he had wished. 
Aemond collapsed atop your bare body, sweaty limbs intertwined. “Aemond?” You called, trying to catch your breath. “Yes, my darling?” He asked, “I still need you,” You said and heard him chuckle, moving to kiss your lips and moved to oblige your needs once more. 
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yoonivy · 1 day
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gold rush; part 1.
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modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader
genre. romantic comedy — inspired by 10 things i hate about you and also another movie (can you guess which one? :) ) , college/university au, eventual smut, enemies to lovers (kinda??? their relationship is complicated to explain LOL)
In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total. So why is he starting now?
warnings. aegon + viserys + ramsay being besties. oc is a bit cringe but at least she is free :’) !!
word count. 8k+
01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07
---
The days are growing chillier. The leaves on the trees are still a brilliant array of reds, oranges, and yellows; but they are starting to fall on the ground, baring the branches for the upcoming winter season. 
This means that the weekly outdoor picnic at the University’s quad that you and your friends always make time for is probably going to end soon, so Sansa Stark insists for one more before the inevitable happens. 
“Winter is Coming,” Sansa states with a heavy sigh and a shiver after you all helped her lay out the pastel gingham blanket on the ground that you are all sitting on now. 
Meera Reed makes a face at her, snorting in disbelief. “Did you just quote your family’s motto at us? Really Sansa?”
Sansa glares her way while she starts to take the lunch she had prepared out of her favorite wicker picnic basket. She huffs before insisting, “Well it is. Winter is coming .”
“Oh, it already is coming,” Margaery Tyrell smirks, already pouring out the pre-made mimosas into four mugs. “It came plenty last night…”
“Marg!” 
“What?” Margaery pouts at Sansa’s outcry of her name, feigning innocence. “I’m just saying… Stark men have quite a set of heavy b—“
“No, no,” Meera is the one to cut her off now, her palm held up to stop Margaery from finishing. “I need my appetite to eat these delicious katsu sandwiches!”
Meanwhile, Sansa is ruffling up Margaery’s perfect blowout, ordering the brunette to stop saying disgusting things about her brother, Robb, in front of her.
As you watch them, you laugh with your mouth around the rim of your mug, the taste of alcoholic, bubbly orange juice sweet on your tongue. Your friends are all ridiculous, but you love them. And perhaps, you are just as ridiculous as them. “Sansa… Is your Uncle Benjen visiting any time soon?”
“I don’t know…” Sansa eyes you suspiciously. “Why…? ”
“Cause…” There’s already a stupid smirk lifting your lips that Sansa takes a deep inhale to prepare herself. “I wanna test out Marg’s theory about Stark men and their heavy—“
You are tackled onto your back by the fiery redhead; and luckily for the both of you, you had already drunk all the mimosa in your mug before she did so. You are laughing and shrieking as Sansa shakes you by the  shoulders playfully, with Meera hollering in the back and Margaery exclaiming, “Yes! That’s my girl! Daddy Benjen is so fit!”
It must have been a strange sight to see. Four women in their early twenties having a picnic in the middle of autumn, all screaming and all toppled on top of each other on the quad of the Seven Kingdom’s most prestigious post-secondary school, Vale University. 
No one would dare approach that mess — unless they are brave. 
Or stupid. 
When a dark shadow casts over you and your friends, and someone clears their throat noisily, that is when you all pause mid-laughter to glance up at the newcomer. 
Your eyes widen comically when you are faced with gorgeously long platinum silver hair; the tiniest waist made with an expensive belted black cotton trench coat; a striking violet eye; and the most disgruntled expression you’ve ever seen in your life. 
Of course all that was none other than Aemond Targaryen. 
So in conclusion — brave and stupid. 
All four of you quickly straightened up in embarrassment but his eye was solely on you. 
“Can I talk to you?” Aemond asks, head cocking to a tree nearby. 
Dumbfounded, you nod slowly and stand up just as slow. But while you are in the process of doing so, he is already walking away. Shrugging at the confused looks of your friends, you jog after him. 
In all honesty, you have no freaking idea why he is pulling you aside either.
When the two of you make it beside the willow tree, he turns towards you. The sourness in his face doesn’t change, and you wonder why he is even talking to you because he clearly doesn’t want to be. 
In all the 8 years you’ve known Aemond Targaryen, he has not spoken more than 8 words to you. In total .
So why now?
That is when the panic start to rise in your chest, because there is only one reason he would even sought you out —
“Aemond, is your fath—“
“Are you going to the party—“
You both stop abruptly after speaking over the other. 
Now you are thoroughly confused. 
With your head tilting to the side, you repeat the little you heard him say, “The party?”
At the dumb look on your face, the tips of his ears start burning red. Aemond grimaces, then glares to the side as he answers, “Yeah, the Tyrell party tomorrow night. Are you invited?”
Your brows draw even closer together, staring at Aemond like he grew another head. “I mean, yeah… Margaery is one of my best friends…” Aemond then grunts in remembrance at the girl he just saw you with not even 5 seconds ago. He is still not even looking at you, so you pull at your sweater paws from the feeling of discomfort. “I’m not going though.”
Finally, his eye is on you. “Why not?”
You shrug. “I’m not really in a partying mood… Besides, all my friends have people they’re interested in that are going so I’m probably going to be the weird seventh wheel…”
What in the Seven Hells?!
You make a face at your own oversharing. Why did you just confess your loser status to Aemond Targaryen of all people? Why would he even care—
“Then come with me.”
Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh?!?!
When you realize you exclaimed that out loud and not just in your head, you slap a hand over your mouth. 
His scowl makes you explain yourself in a hurry, “Sorry! It’s just we’ve never really hung out before or, like, even had a conversation until this one, so I’m a bit… confused?”
Aemond presses his pink pout together, inhaling sharply. Then he stares at you in a way that pins you to the spot, your breath catching. “You’re right…” he frowns as he trails off. “We’ve known each other for so long and yet we’ve never made an effort to become friends—“
You’ve never made an effort, I’ve at least tried, you wanted to say, but you bite your tongue and let him keep going. 
“So I’d like to take you to the party to change that. Ramsay’s band is playing so it should be a… fun night.”
He says all that in the aloof yet cocksure air of his but you’re convinced that he is not even convinced himself. 
Because why would being in any 10-feet vicinity close to Ramsay Bolton be any fun? Also he said he’d “like” to take you to the party and yet he looks like he is being held at gunpoint to talk to you. 
Someone is definitely putting him up to this. 
To put Aemond out of his misery (and to satisfy the sniper surely aiming at his head) you say, “I’ll, um… think about it then?”
Aemond hums as an answer; sounding not quite satisfied but letting it be. 
And you thought that would be it. Like he’ll be like well, I tried! — shrugs shoulders and flippantly throws his hands up — oh well! but just as you say your soft goodbye and begin to walk away, Aemond calls your name. 
Wait a second — he knows your name???
You balk, once again staring at him wide-eyed. This time he ignores the look, or at least doesn’t react to it outwardly, and says, “You have my number, right?”
I literally didn’t even know you even knew my name, you almost answer, but instead you went with a simple, “No.”
He lets out a discontented hmm… like somehow that was your fault. He then fishes his phone out of his pocket and then hands it to you. On the screen is the new contact section. 
He didn’t even need to say anything, his domineering stare was enough for you to promptly type in your information on his phone. 
When you hand it back, his thumb swiftly moves on the screen. A second later, you felt the familiar vibration of a new text in the back pocket of your jeans. 
“Text me if you’re coming, I’ll pick you up,” is all Aemond says before he is already walking away and up the hill of the quad to the path leading to one of the university’s libraries. 
You watch his retreating back for a minute before finally heading back to your friends. 
“What was that?!” Margaery is the first of your friends to ask, but you can tell they are all piqued with interest and confusion. They know that you and Aemond go way back yet don’t have a semblance of a proper history, and that he has never sought you out like that before. 
So as you stare at the text that Aemond sent you:
I hope you’ll come to the party. It’ll be nice if you do. 
All you can tell your friends is:
“I honestly don’t even know.”
--
As soon as your last class for the day was let out at 6 PM, you book it to the nearest bus stop and luckily make it just as soon as the bus pulls up.
You would think for a busy and populated university campus, the public transportation schedule would be better. But alas, most of the students that attend Vale U are trust fund babies and have the most expensive cars and/or drivers that take them anywhere they want to go. 
Not you though. You pretty much live paycheque to paycheque. Although you are lucky enough to have only one job that could sustain your living expenses. 
That is where you are heading now, your part-time job at one of the homes in the #3 Wealthiest Neighborhoods of all of Westeros according to Baelish Times. 
The gated neighborhood of Eyrie Heights sits on the tallest cliff in the region of the Vale. Of course since it is the home of many famous celebrities and important political figures, the nearest bus stop to the front gates of the community is a 45 minutes walk away — you make that trek back and forth at least four days every week. 
You’re used to it so it’s not so bad, and the security guards at the gates are super friendly and would always drive you to your final destination in their golf cart. Today was no different, and you are dropped off at one of the many mansions in the neighborhood belonging to the governing family of the Vale, the Arryn’s. 
“Thanks Grenn!” You call out after hopping off the cart and waving goodbye to your ride. 
“No problem!” He waves back with a wide grin. “Say hey to Mr. T for me!”
You give him a thumbs up before turning your heels to walk up the stone pathway leading to the ivory mansion fit for a king.
It definitely is one of the most gorgeously built homes you’ve ever seen. It is an older mansion but properly maintained with the prettiest front garden and perfect shrubbery. The white bricked walls are paired with dark navy blue shingle roofing, which looks lovely during the hotter months but gorgeous when everything is blanketed with white snow. What does it for you though is the huge oval arched windows and the balconies on the second and third floors with the pillars — it was what caught your wide eyes when you first saw it eight years ago when your mother held your hand and dragged you up the same pathway you are currently walking on. Although it is an Arryn family mansion, the man living there now is the widower of an Arryn woman and he is the one you are caring for.
After you climb up the three tiers of stoned steps with the dragon statue water fountain in the center, you pick up the packages and letters at the front door that he received the past two days you haven’t checked up on him before unlocking the door with your set of keys and stepping inside.
“Viserys?” You shout out, locking the door behind you. From somewhere still on the ground floor, you hear the one you are calling for respond back, In here!
With the packages and a hefty bag you’ve pulled out from a closet near the front door, you head to where you assume ‘in here’ is. 
You end up at one of the rooms in the back of the mansion. It does not even surprise you that this is where you find your patient/friend in the huge home — it is the room he is often in if he is not in his master bedroom or kitchen. The conservatory is as beautiful as every part of the house, but anyone can tell it’s the most loved. With its high windowed ceiling and the windowed walls, the brilliant sun can be clearly seen setting on purple and pink skies. But you knew that and luxurious furnishing wasn’t the reason why Viserys Targaryen favored that room so much — for every other room has the same luxury feel to it — but it is because this room is where him and his first wife would always spend time together during the first few years of their marriage before they moved back to Viserys’ ancestral home in King’s Landing. 
“This room is also the only one we were allowed to spend time in while I was courting her,” you remember Viserys recalling to you and your mother one time with a hearty chuckle. He then pointed outside, where the pool is. “Her father would grill out there, pretending it’s for lunch or dinner. But he was really just keeping a close eye on me to not do anything unsavory. Aemma was always so embarrassed because she said her father didn’t even like barbecue ribs that much. ”
With a smile at that memory of his memory, looking towards the many picture frames in the room that hold weathered photos of the ethereal looking woman who still held the heart of a man even 25 years after her death. 
You turn to watch that man now, hunched over beside a big and long table in the middle of the room occupied fully by miniature statues and structures to resemble the once glorious city of the now ruined Old Valyria. 
Viserys is so consumed with whittling away at a block of soapstone that he did not even notice that you were already in the room. 
While putting down his packages and letters on a side table near the door, you call his name again. He turns to you with a bit of a jolt, before his lips spread into a soft smile. “Sorry, my dear… I’ve just been so focused because my hands are being very agreeable today.”
You laugh, nodding in understanding while walking to where he is sitting. 
“How was the commute here?” Viserys asks while you pull out what you needed in the heavy bag you put down on the ground. 
You shrug nonchalantly as you wrap the blood pressure band around his arm. “Awful like always, but I’ll live.”
The balding platinum haired man frowns at that. “I really wished you’d let me hire a chauffeur for you.”
You chuckle, writing down his numbers on your phone’s notes app and moving on to test his blood sugar level. “And I told you, I spend way too much on my monthly bus pass for you to do that. Besides, I like taking public transportation—“ Viserys gives you a look. “… Sometimes.”
Once you have all of Viserys’ numbers for the day and nothing concerning pops up, you text everything to his primary nurse who visits him once a week, Samwell Tarly. 
As you get a text back from Sam -– “Thank you, ____! 😀” — Visery slowly sits up and asks, “A little game of Cyvasse for old time sakes?”
You groan and frown deeply in a way that definitely shows your age of twenty-two, but you follow him anyway to the table in one of the corners of the room with the Cyvasse game on top. 
Not even ten minutes later, Viserys sighs heavily as he watches you make another wrong move. Honestly, you’ve tried plenty of times to understand this board game but it is just lost on you. At this point, you are just moving pieces you think are the ugliest so they can be taken off the board quicker.
“When is your family visiting?” Visersy asks while taking out another one of your pawns, only four of your pieces left on the board versus his fifteen. “Your father is the only one that gives me a challenge in this game and I miss that — well, your father and my younger brother.”
You shrug, moving a piece that he just knocks over a second later. Honestly, he can be playing the game just as bad as you and you would be none the wiser. “Probably not anytime soon. Autumn is the busiest season at Ironrath with the ironwood and all.”
Viserys hums, winning the game. Then he looks straight at you. “You know, your mother called yesterday–”
“Ugh…” your head falls dramatically, already knowing what he is probably going to say next.
“She said you haven’t been picking up her calls and barely answering her messages.”
Yup, there it is.
You stand up, walking over to the table where you dropped off the packages and pick it up to bring to him. 
“It’s not that I’ve been avoiding her. I’ve just been so busy – with classes, extracurriculars, this job…” you tell him as you hand him a package decorated with silver star stickers from his daughter Helaena at King’s Landing, a postcard from Dorne from his grandsons’ Jace and Luke who are vacationing there at the moment, and a letter from Otto Hightower — his father-in-law from his second marriage. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to call her tonight.”
“Is this job too much on top of all of your studies?” Viserys asks, full of concern. “Because—“
“No, it’s not this job,” you reassure him. “I’m just shit at time management. Sansa’s helping me out with that though.”
“Well I hope you are at least taking time for yourself. Your youth should be spent having fun and not being stressed about the future.”
Easier said than done, you think but you let him know instead, “My friends and I had a picnic today. That was fun! And—” Hold on, you just remembered something, “ I … actually got invited to a party tomorrow night… by Aemond.”
At the mention of his son, Viserys’ head tilts in confusion. “Aemond…? I didn’t know you two were friends.”
You scoff out a chuckle. “We’re not… That’s what’s weird about it.”
Viserys hums in thought for a while then smiles at you. “I think you should go to the party with him!”
You make a face and he chuckles, encouraging further, “I’m being serious! My son needs a good influence like you in his life… and under that cold exterior, I know my boy is as sweet as can be. Just give him a chance!” 
Sweet is the last word you would use to describe Aemond Targaryen. Maybe agreeable would have been more suitable. But you know how much Viserys loves his family – as distant as they all may be from him – so you just let it go with a sigh.
And like you told his son earlier, you tell him the same with a tight smile, “… I’ll think about it…”
--
Turns out, you didn’t even need to think about it. 
No. No thinking was involved. 
Not when you are basically kidnapped out of your apartment. As soon as you get home from the library, you are being grabbed around the waist hauled up and out of your modest and tiny living space. 
“How dare you ! You are supposed to be on my team! Team Always Stay At Home Like Gremlins!” You seethe furiously at your best friend and roommate, Jon Snow, who has a hold of your feet to stop you from kicking the man who has you on his shoulder. 
“I know ! I’m sorry, but… Margaery told me to…” Jon says with a weary and apologetic smile. “And plus… Sansa’s going to the party.”
“She’s your cousin, you weirdo !” You bite back at him, and from over your shoulder you can see he is just blushing profusely, unperturbed by the accusation you threw at him. Under you, Theon Greyjoy is laughing so hard in that annoying way of his, so you warn him, “Don’t even get me started with you, buddy.”
He shuts his mouth rather quickly after that.
You are hauled into the car waiting at the front of the apartment, and when you settle in as comfortably as you could after getting tossed into the backseat by Theon, you are faced with Robb and Meera peering back at you from the front seats. 
“Where’s Sansa and Marg?” You ask once the car pulls away, sandwiched between Jon and Theon. 
“Oh, you know… taking a million hours to get ready,” Robb says as he turns right on a street that the robotic lady navigating him tells him to turn at — heading to Loras Tyrell’s penthouse. 
You gesture down at your own outfit — a cream oversized Vale U hoodie and loose blue jeans. “And I didn’t get the same courtesy because…?”
You are not even going to mention your unstyled hair and lack of makeup. 
Meera playfully rolls her eyes. “You look great… like always.”
You stick your tongue out at her while grabbing your phone out of your pocket. 
To Aemond — Heeeeey! I’m coming to the party! You don’t need to pick me up, I have a ride and I’m already on my way there! — see you soon 😃 !
Then before you have a chance to put it away, you notice the little message typing bubble pop up and you wait for a few seconds, and then…
Your mouth gapes open in offense. 
The asshole leaves you on read. 
--
“Maybe he got distracted with something,” of course it’s Jon trying to reason and be practical about the whole situation, always trying to give people the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes it just sounds like he is playing devil’s advocate — like this time, since it involves Aemond “The Ice Prince” Targaryen. “Didn’t you say he was typing something before he didn’t respond at all?”
“I think he is just a right royal prick,” Robb states, which makes the girl he has his arms around giggle.
All your friends are stuffed into an elevator now heading up to the party at Margaery’s brother’s place. And instead of being excited for the night since Loras usually throws the best parties, you’re just pissed off, staring at the read receipt you’ve gotten more than 20 minutes ago. 
“Thank you, Robb!” You appreciate that you at least have someone on your side on this. 
“Watch though, as soon as we step inside, he’ll be a blubbering mess and he’ll tell you he couldn’t respond because the ____ ____ actually messaged him back,” Margaery predicts, somewhat jokingly. 
“Now that I can’t ever see happening in a million years!” Theon snickers. “Do you see what she’s wearing?”
Gasping, you slap his arm. “You said I looked fine, you dick!”
“Meera said you looked fine, I didn’t say nor agree with anything!”
With your friends laughing at yours and Theon’s shenanigans and just when you were about to hit him again, the door of the elevator opens to the sound of smooth R&B. 
“Is that…?” You trail off, listening closely when you step out the elevator. Once you recognize the artist singing live for the party guests, you hit Theon’s arm multiple times out of excitement. “GREY WORM?!”
You ignore Theon’s whining and pouting about how you are hurting him (you weren’t, he’s just being dramatic) to squeal with Sansa – who also loves the up and coming vocalist just as much as you do. 
Sansa links her arm around yours and the two of you set off to the huge living area to join the crowd dancing and singing along with Grey Worm. 
Margaery and Robb find the two of you later in the middle of the dancefloor, still dancing and singing your lungs out. They bring with them four little cups, and after toasting with your friends, you knock back your first shot for the night — and definitely not the last.
After Grey Worm plays his last encore song for the night, you boo lightheartedly with the crowd making the handsome Astapori laugh, promising he’ll be back in the Vale soon for a proper concert. When he steps off the “stage” (which was just a 6 inch platform) he kisses the most gorgeous woman you’ve ever seen and you almost want to boo seriously because how are you supposed to compete with that?!
You pout with Sansa, both your dreams dashed in an instant. As the DJ returns to her booth, the room is shaken with the loud bass of HEATED by Beyoncé – the most popular artist in all six continents of the world – you turn to Margaery to ask, “Why was Grey Worm the opening act and Ramsay’s dark-sided heavy metal band the main one for the night?”
Margaery sighs and rolls her eyes, “Well, Renly just signed Ramsay’s band to his label so my brother wanted to be the ever supportive boyfriend… I told him to switch it around but when he asked Ramsay, the manchild threw a fit…”
“Of course he did,” Sansa says, shaking her head in mild disbelief. 
“Let’s stop talking about the prick and have some fun before he inevitably goes on that stage, yeah?” Robb suggests, and you all agree with him, deciding not to let Ramsay ruin your night. Maybe later, when he does start his set, you can all just head to the outdoor balcony with the pool and mini bar.  
You stay dancing with your friends until the song ends before you part with them to grab yourself another drink. You were also incredibly hot, so once you were out of the crowd, you pull off your hoodie, now only wearing a white tank top – very Olivia Rodrigo chic. You toss the hoodie onto one of the couches, knowing no one here will ever steal Vale U merch (and if someone does, it’s whatever) and then you head to the bar. You take another shot while you order a peach bellini and as you wait for your drink to be made, your eyes scan the room. The party is in full swing now and there has to be more than fifty people in this room alone, so there must be plenty more in other areas of the penthouse. Just as you get your drink, you notice someone from the corner of your eyes standing against the wall by a loveseat pretty close to you. 
The guy who left you on read, Aemond Targaryen. 
You suppose you weren’t pissed off anymore (and perhaps Jon was right that he got distracted by something) so you decide you should at least say hi. With your drink in hand, you walk to him and you have to admit… He is looking pretty good tonight. The black silk button up shirt he has on fits so nicely against his body and it is tucked into an equally as tight leather pants that left no room to the imagination. You might have drooled a little, you’re not even going to lie. 
As you approach him, his eye lands on you, taking in you in a way that makes you feel like he is devouring you whole. His mouth parts slightly while his thumb starts to skim across the rim of the glass cup of whiskey on ice he is holding. Maybe it’s the shots you’ve taken, or maybe Meera was right — maybe you do look good.
You were so distracted by how handsome he looks that you didn’t even notice the company he is with until it was too late. 
“Well, well… Isn’t this a nice surprise, angel eyes?” Is what you hear when you are about to say hello to Aemond. As you grimace at the sound of his voice, Aemond looks between you and the man sitting on the couch he is beside. 
Ramsay takes away the arm he has around the girl who is sitting with him to put both his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands together, leaning forward to regard you closer. 
“Finally ready to make nice again, sweetheart?” Ramsay asks you, that infuriating smirk on his lips. 
“You two know each other?!” Aegon Targaryen — Aemond’s older brother by three years — questions like he cannot believe it to be true. You wish it wasn’t true. But sadly, it is. You went on five dates with the scumbag just last year. 
“No,” you tut out at the same time Ramsay replies, “She’s my ex.”
“Ex?!” you scoff out with a laugh. “We went on, like, five dates, my dude.”
Ramsay gasps mockingly, grabbing onto his chest. “Oh sweetheart, how you wound my fragile heart. I thought what we had was special!”
You roll your eyes, but decide not to give him the satisfaction of another reply from you. So you turn to Aemond instead, throwing him a very expectant smile but you are met with a carefully neutral expression. You falter slightly under his stare, licking your lips and then pressing it together before you tell him, “Hey, uh, sorry I didn’t come here with you. I got pretty much held hostage by my friends as soon as I got home from school.”
Aemond nods slowly with a throaty hum. “It’s fine.”
Feeling several eyes on you, you mirror the bob of his head as you wait for him to say something — anything — else. 
“Are you… having fun?” You ask, breaking first.
Eye still on you, Aemond shrugs nonchalantly. But after a couple of seconds, he turns his head away, looking to the side as he takes a sip of his drink, then keeps his stare at the dancing crowd as if you weren’t even standing in front of him.
You let out a humorless chuckle, trying not to feel rejected. 
“Okay, then… Great talk,” you murmur, then you promptly walk away before you humiliate yourself any further. 
What is his deal ?
First he invites you to this stupid party, then he leaves you on read, and now he makes you a fool in front of all his friends…
Honestly… It’s on you for expecting anything different.
--
Once you turn to leave, Aemond is quick to watch you walk away with an indecipherable look on his face. Never once taking his eye off you until you eventually blend into the crowd. 
“Was that her?” Vis asks — a distant cousin of Aemond’s, with the same name as his dad (a Targaryen thing; after the 10th generation they just became less and less creative and started reusing the same 10 names). “Is that the girl?” 
“Yesss , it issss!” Aegon answers in a sing-song, slurring his words from the many shots and bottles of beer he has downed already. 
“The girl?” Ramsay questions, frowning in confusion. Meanwhile, Vis grimaces in disgust, muttering something rude about your outfit.
“The girl Aemond needs to trick into falling in love with him,” Aegon supplies, walking over to his younger brother to wrap his arm around the taller man. With his hand grasping tight on Aemond, Aegon shakes him and sharply hisses in his ear, “And you’re already fucking it up, little brother.”
With a scowl, Aemond jerks aggressively, successful with getting his brother off of him with a shrug of his shoulder and an elbow into Aegon’s stomach.
“Ooooh , ___ is the girl?” Ramsay exclaims, blue eyes lighting up with excitement at the remembrance of what they had all talked about about a week ago. “You should have told me earlier, and I wouldn’t have said all that… Now, I just reminded her of all the good times we had together–” Winking at Aemond, he finishes with, “It’s going to be tougher for you now, little Aemond.”
Aemond scoffs, eyes rolling off to the side. 
Vis’ younger sister, Dany, turns to Ramsay, her thick and pretty brows drawing together in confusion. “Isn’t that the girl that blocked you on all her social media accounts?”
“Yeah,” Ramsay’s head rolls slowly from one side to the other as if saying ‘what of it?’. “Because she was so madly in love with me and was so distraught to find out she wasn’t the only girl I was dating at the time…”
At that, Aemond decides it’s time to tune Ramsay’s annoying ass out. He huffs out, finishing his drink to leave his group of… people he hangs out with, to get another at the bar. 
He feels someone following behind him, but they don’t make themselves known until they are both standing by the bar.
“You’re acting like a bigger asshole than you usually are tonight,” Alys Rivers tells Aemond without any prompting after they order their drinks. Just as he was about to roll his eye for the hundredth time that evening, Alys shakes her head and holds a finger up, “ Don’t roll your eye at me… You know I’m right.”
Aemond sighs and says nothing because she is right, and so he sips on his drink instead as soon as it is slid towards him. 
Alys turns her whole body towards him, direct and headstrong like always when she tells him,  “How do you expect her to fall in love with you even just a little bit if you treat her like that?”
Aemond holds her gaze for only a few seconds before it drops down to the clinking of melting ice in the cup he had placed on the bar table. “This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever agreed to be a part of.”
The only person that he actually likes in his so-called friend group lets out a short chuckle, reminding him, “I’m pretty sure I told you that when Aegon first mentioned it.” 
Aemond lets out a dissatisfied hum, bringing his glass up to his mouth to take another swallow. 
“You know you can just… not do it. Leave the poor girl alone.”
Aemond frowns. “I’m already in it.”
Alys snorts at that. “Barely.”
Then Aemond goes quiet, deep in thought. Because once again, Alys is right. He can just back out, let Aegon do this stupid plan. Why should he waste his time on this? Waste his time with you? 
But then again… He doesn’t trust his brother to do anything right. So in the end, it has to be him.
“I have to do it,” he says in a way that leaves no room for doubt. “You know what’s at stake, Alys.”
At that, Alys sighs heavily and nods in relent. “Right. Of course…” Then she offers him an encouraging smile. “At least we now know it won’t be that hard for her to fall for you… She did date Ramsay after all…”
Aemond lets out a combination of a snort and a chuckle, tipping his glass towards Alys. “You’re right.”
Her small smile spreads into a bigger one, eyes rolling teasingly. “I’m always right, Aemond. You should know that by now,” then as she clinks her glass against his, she adds, “And I have one more prediction with this idiotic plan of yours.”
Leaning on the elbow he has rested on the table, Aemond tips his head to the side and decides to humor her with a question, “And what’s that?”
With a secretive smirk, Alys brings her wine glass up to her dark red lips and says before taking a sip, “You’re going to accidentally fall for her first.”
And for the first time in forever, Aemond actually lets out an uncharacteristically loud laugh, gazing incredulously at his friend like she has gone crazy.
Because that will never, ever happen. Not in a million years.
--
Much to your surprise, it is Gendry Baratheon who pulls you out of your sour mood with his silly jokes and cute flirty comments.
When he asks you to dance, you glance discreetly to Sansa for permission but she is too busy canoodling with her cousin , so you look towards the next best option — Robb. The oldest Stark sibling gives you a thumbs up. Their younger sister, Arya, dated the hot architecture major but dumped him before she dropped out of uni just the previous year to travel the world and learn from experience instead of books. 
You’re glad for his approval, because as you grind your hips against Gendry’s with his hands tight on your waist, you realize how much you are a sucker for pretty boys with dark hair and light eyes. That’s probably the only reason you swiped right on Ramsay.
“You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while…” Gendry simmers, the pupils in his bright blue eyes blown with desire, pressing himself even firmer against you. Very firm indeed. 
“Yeah?” You smirk with an adorable tilt of your head, threading your fingers into the hair on the nape of his neck, bringing his face down closer to yours. “And why didn’t you?”
His long dark lashes flatter, eyes roaming your face as he murmurs somewhat absentmindedly, “You really don’t know how intimidatingly gorgeous you are, do you…?”
After a gleeful giggle, you let out a soft sigh as you lean in at the same time, wanting to close the distance between your lips. But just when your mouth is about to touch Gendry’s chapped yet alluring lips, you are being yanked away from him rather harshly with a hand that had just clasped around your elbow. At the rather disorienting motion of the pull, you end up smacking face first into the chest of the person who is the culprit of the rude interruption. 
The guy smells so goddamn good that you almost melt into him, until you remember why your nose is pressed onto him in the first place —
“What the heck?!” You cry out, prying yourself away from the person to glare at them. What you find is Aemond staring down at you before he glances over at the man behind you. 
“It’s a bit of a bastard move to try and stick your tongue down the throat of someone else’s date, don’t you think, Baratheon?” 
Both yours and Gendry’s mouth drop at Aemond’s accusatory statement. 
DATE?! WHAT IS THIS SCUMBAG ON ABOUT?!
“Sorry, man… I honestly didn’t know you two were a thing…” Gendry apologizes to Aemond, then looks at you longingly before he walks away, muttering under his breath, “Seven Hells, I need another drink.”
“Wait, Gen …” you trail off when he glances at you in a way that makes you falter, shaking his head with a heavy sigh of disappointment – which you think might not be because he thinks you’re taken but because he expected better of you to not cheat on your boyfriend . You want to stop him and tell him it wasn’t true because it’s not!
“No… come back…” You cry out pathetically, reaching out dramatically but he is already too far gone. You deflate, wallowing in your sadness for a couple more seconds until your ire strikes and you glower at the reason you did not end the night with making out with one of the hottest guys at the party. 
In the middle of the dancefloor, Aemond stands stiff rod straight with his hands clasped together behind his back, a shit-eating grin lifting his lips. 
Bitch, you declare in your mind. 
Your arms are wildly moving when you ask him incredulously, “What the hell was that?” Then quieter, you harshly whisper, “Why did you tell him I was your date?!”
“I invited you to this party, didn’t I?” Aemond questions, head cocking.
“Yeah…?”
“And you texted me you’re coming…” “You mean the text you ig–”
“So then that means you’re my date,” Aemond declares as if it’s that simple, cutting you off rudely. Then his hand clutches over his heart, pouting mockingly. “and you’ve hurt my feelings terribly by dancing with another guy.”
You might not be as sober as you thought because instead of remaining pissed off, you are actually kinda… impressed . This is the most personality you have ever seen Aemond have. A bit vindictive, sure, but at least he is not all emo sad sulking boy like you previously thought he was just. 
Though… unlucky for him… you can be quite a menace yourself. And you still haven’t forgiven him for leaving you on read, making you look dumb in front of his friends, and now cockblocking you from getting a hot piece of ass— Oh boy… You are heated all over again. 
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Aemond,” you say with poutiest of pouts (the one you use whenever you want something to go your way. And it usually works, just ask Jon and all the times he went out to the 24 hours convenience store a few streets down at two in the morning to grab whatever you wanted) then you mirror him, grabbing at your heart. 
Aemond’s eye flicker down from your begrudgingly cute face to where your hand lands, taking a sharp inhale as you squeeze your boob, before meeting your eyes again with his own wide, looking so confused at your sudden 180 — and also, why are you fondling yourself?! 
“How will I ever make it up to you?”
But you give him no chance to answer because you all of the sudden perk up, clapping your hands together as you exclaim, “I know! Since you wanted to dance with me so badly—“ you titter out a quite evil-sounding giggle, “— then we’re gonna dance, baby !”
Aemond frowns, shaking his head minutely, “I didn’t—“
But you’re already dancing — and quite horribly as well. Where was the rhythm you had when you were grinding with the Baratheon bastard? Aemond wonders while watching your every uncoordinated move with an unimpressed hmm. 
Little does he know, you’re dancing this bad on purpose. You can dance — maybe not as well as Meera but you can keep a rhythm. For Aemond though — your sweet, sweet date who is always so prim, proper and collected — oh how embarrassed he will be to be seen with someone who is not as perfect as him. Someone who can’t help but make a fool of herself and in turn, him , for being tied to her. 
With your fists pressing against your chest and your elbows out, you start to shake your arms back and forth. You’re actually surprised Aemond is able to hold eye contact with you… Maybe you’re not doing enough? So you suppose you need to turn it up a notch. 
And as if the DJ is your partner in crime, the next song she plays is absolutely perfect. 
I can lick it, I can ride it while you slippin’ and slidin’..
You start with something easy, dipping your hips side to side, enough to be sensual and then— 
I can do all them little tricks…
BAM!
The sprinkler! You even make the sound effect, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth to sound out the tcktcktcktck as you wave your arm above your head in a jerking motion. 
And keep the dick up inside it…
You jump, landing on your feet wide apart with bent and spread knees, smacking the top of your thighs loudly. Aemond’s face remains completely unfazed even though there is an audience starting to surround the two of you now. But your gaze only on each other. 
You can smack it, you can grip it…
You straighten up, turning around swiftly, slapping your butt next as you look over your shoulder at Aemond with a wink. You hear people hoot and holler — sounding a lot like Theon and Margaery. 
You can go down and kiss it…
Grinning at your friend’s encouragement, you drop down— 
All the way to the floor, laying on your front on the ground to wave your whole body, doing the worm so impressively and backwards instead of forward that the whole crowd cheers so loudly. 
You hop up just as fast onto your feet, looking down at yourself and find you were lucky enough to not have a drip of gross wetness on you from all the drinks sloshed onto the floor throughout the night. Now that’s a miracle. 
And every time he leave me ‘lone, he always tell me he miss it…
After shrugging to yourself, you make eye contact with Aemond again, stepping towards him with a sultry smirk, your fingers trailing on his body as you make your way around him, stopping behind him to breathily sing into his ear the next part…
He want a F-F-R-EEeeEee-A-K…
You suppress the giggle when you feel him shiver. Probably out of disgust and mortification — and you couldn’t be more proud of yourself. 
You move again, to complete your circling around him, finally almost in front of him again—
F-F-R-Eee—-
“—EEP!” 
That was you, bleeting louder than the music, all because you were suddenly grabbed by the waist and dipped down low by none other than Aemond Targaryen. 
The crowd goes wild, thinking that what is happening in front of them is a risqué kiss between the Ice Prince and the weird dancing girl. But it is not that all, because what Aemond’s pretty long hair has hidden from view of prying eyes is not a stolen kiss, but it’s his burning gaze on you as he growls a little too ferally, “You think you’re real cute, don’t you, love?”
As he impressively keeps the two of you in that position, his arm solidly around your waist and his other hand cupping the back of your head so gently, you can’t help but really look at him for the first time in your life. It’s hard to deny it, but he really is so easy on the eye. The slope of his nose is enviously perfect, his violet eye the brightest and most vibrant out of all his family, and…
Though he did not move one inch during your dance for him, Aemond is breathing quite as heavily as you are. The puff of his hot breath on your mouth has you looking down, and his eye follows where you look.
Aemond’s lips… They look so soft and the shape of them so sharp at the edges… You kind of want a feel of them against yours. Just to see…
His tongue peeks out, wetting his mouth, and you blink slow in rapt attention. Once he is done, you flutter your lashes, glancing back up to meet his gaze from beneath them. 
He is too undeniably pretty, it’s unfair!
If Aemond is moving closer towards you, you don’t notice. Your nerves are getting the better of you, all thoughts have gone out the window. 
And that is why you so suddenly blurt out with a crooked smile, “So… ya like jazz?”
Aemond’s features twist into one of confusion before he starts to laugh as he pulls the both of you up to stand. The crowd has disappeared, onto the next big thing — a fight that broke out in the kitchen. But you and Aemond stay, with also a few stragglers still dancing. 
You burn with embarrassment. This is Jon’s fault! He’s the one who suggested to watch The Bee Movie last night. And you know what’s also his fault? The reason you were born in the first place! If his mom — your god mother Lyanna, and also your mom’s best friend — hadn’t gotten knocked up by her summer fling, your mother wouldn’t have begged your dad to start a family so quickly because they’ve always wanted to have their kids grow up together. 
While you make threats at Jon Snow in your head — promising he will rue the day he was born — Aemond is still laughing, telling you, “You’re absolutely ridiculous.”
You take a chance to glance sideways at him….
The smile that lights up Aemond’s face is so gorgeous and glorious that your mouth parts in awe and your heartbeat starts to race. 
As you continue to openly stare now, it dawns on you that this is the first you’ve seen Aemond with such a genuine smile. The others were either snarky smirks or put on to appease whoever he was speaking to. 
You can’t believe he has been hiding this from the world. 
“Wow… You should smile more often,” you murmur without really thinking about it. “It looks nice on you.”
His face flattens as soon as the words leave you, pink blushing his cheeks and his ears as he swiftly turns on his heels to walk away. You don’t allow him to get far, grabbing onto his hand to pull him back towards you, whining out with laughter, “Noooo … don’t be embarrassed! I’ll shut up!”
After heaving the most exhausted sigh you’ve ever heard, Aemond turns back around to face you. You flutter your lashes at him to seem innocent, an overly optimistic smile rounding your cheeks adorably. 
“Do you want to dance?” You ask him. “Like, for real this time?”
While he eyes you warily, Aemond finds himself nodding slowly. At his acceptance, you let out a goblin like giggle of heh heh heh while you take his other hand, both of his in both of yours.
You start to move, encouraging him to do so too with the bobbing of your head in time with the beat of the music. Clearing his throat, Aemond begins to move as well… And you don’t know how but… He makes the simplest move of swaying side to side look so… painful.
“Oh, okay, wow…” You mutter, head tilting while looking down at his feet. “… Not the best footwork…”
“I thought you said you’ll shut up?” Aemond snaps with a fierce glare your way. You manage to suppress another laugh, tightly pressing your lips together to motion a pretend zipper closing across the seam of it with your fingers before lacing your hand with his again. 
You spend the next half hour teaching him how to dance. It wasn’t particularly successful, but at least you had fun!
You think Aemond did too.
He smiled and laughed more times than you can count with both your hands.
And like you told him earlier, it looks nice on him.
--
Aemond drives you home before Ramsay’s band starts their set. Not because you didn’t want to watch them (which you didn’t, but that’s besides the point) but because the worm you did actually hurt your back a little, the pain didn’t start until later. 
So as you lay in your bed, you make a note to yourself: never do the worm again. 
Scratch that. 
Never do the worm again drunk. 
Come on! You can’t completely forego a classic!
Growing more tired, you check your phone one last time. Shooting your friends messages to get home safe and also to Jon — please pick me up some pain killers 🥺. 
Then for some reason the last message conversation you open up is the one with the newest contact on your phone. 
It’s barely a conversation , you think to yourself as you stare at the glaring read receipt. And yet that doesn’t stop you from double texting. 
To Aemond — I had fun with you tonight ☺️
You turn to your side just as the all too familiar ‘…’ bubble from his side of the conversation pops up. You frown at your phone; waiting, and waiting, and waiting, and…
Your eyes light up, grinning wide with an overjoyed giggle. 
Because Aemond didn’t leave you hanging this time. Not at all. 
From Aemond — I had fun with you as well.  — Have a good night.  — Rest well and take a Poppyvil for your back.  — If it gets worse tomorrow, let me know. 
You send him back an ‘I will 🤠’ before you begin to drift off to sleep, your phone pressed to your chest and a smile on your face put on there by the last person you would ever expect to — Aemond Targaryen.
untitled playlist 🎵 nothing else i could do · ella jane
--
author’s note: i hope you guys enjoy the first part of this story :)!! i’m so so excited for the rest!! the song that will be at the end of every chapter (or maybe scattered throughout the fic, i’m not sure yet lol) is a song that the oc puts in a playlist that she unknowingly makes with aemond in mind hehe.
let me know what you think!! feedback keeps us writers motivated :)!!
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the-fiction-witch · 2 days
Text
Orland and Ophelia
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Shela (Fleabottom Smallfolk Girl) Rating - Sweet AF Word Count - 3093
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Aegon sits in a tavern down the deep pits of fleabottom, the place dirty, bloody and grim, the place almost empty as the sun begins to rise most heading back to whatever holes they hide in from the light. Aegon sits at a table on his ninth ale, he's hiding down here away from his family and he was a common sight in this place. He had snuck away from the red keep, away from his family and their chaos as he often did. Shela the bar girl walks with her rag cleaning up the mess from the evening in her long brown skirt, white blouse, a small apron and a blade on her hip, her Y/H/C hair pinned up but slowly falling from the night of work,
"Another round." Aegon signals another drink by lifting his tankard. He looks extremely tired. This is a regular, almost nightly occurrence for him to get completely drunk in this place.
"That's the last one," she warns him,
"Another one Shela." Aegon's voice sounded very slurred. He didn't even bother to look at her as he spoke.
"And I said no." She told him, "You've had enough Aegon." She said sternly,
Aegon let out a long sigh as he looked at her with a frown, now turning to face her. She really thought she had that much power to deny him a drink. He was the prince after all. For a moment he stared at her with a scowl on his face. Was she really gonna play that game with him? He then turned back to his empty cup for a moment knowing she was what stood between him and another drink, "Fine."
"You can stay as long as you like, but no more drinking. Else you'll find yourself head first down in the rain pits," she explained picking up his tankard to wipe his table and kissing his head as she took the tankard away and back to the bar so he definitely couldn't have another drink.
Aegon seemed to be contemplating his next move after she took his tankard away. For a moment he even looked like he might go after her with the intent of taking the tankard from her. He needed that drink, but then something stopped him. Perhaps it was the kiss she gave him. Or perhaps it was his own stubbornness and pride. He and Shela had of course kissed before, he had taken her to bed when drunk more than once and even though he knew that the kisses still made his body feel warm, but he snapped at her, "I hate you."
"I'm well aware Aegon,"
"Then why do you insist on staying with me?" Aegon had never really noticed it before but when he spoke, he realized she was the only one who never abandoned him. His parents were too busy, His siblings either resented him or feared him. But here she was, always. He couldn't think of a reason why she would want to stay when he was so drunk and miserable. Why was she?
"Well.. no matter how drunk you get you always pay your tab in gold dragons,” She chuckled, “You get into fights but you never break anything most of the time you fight outside, you’re a very loyal customer. And you can at rare times before a very sweet man."
Aegon couldn't believe what he was hearing. Did this woman, a bar-maid for seven hells, actually like him? Did she believe he was sweet? This was absurd. There were so many men in the Seven Kingdoms more worthy of her affections. Men more handsome, more charming, more...perfect. It became obvious to him that it was the alcohol speaking. And perhaps his own loneliness. Aegon tried to shrug these thoughts off and instead waved his hand to wave her off. "Whatever."
"You always get some grumpy when you drink," she chuckled,
Her comment hit a nerve with him. "I am not grumpy." He was silent for a moment before asking her a question as his own curiosity. "Why? Why do you stay? You could have any man you want. Any guy in Westeros. And you choose to hang out with a drunkard, with a prince no one respects and who's not worthy of love?"
"who says you are not worthy of love?"
"Don't you know the things they say about me in King's Landing?" He looked her directly in the eye as he spoke, making sure she was looking at him directly. "I am called a drunk. A fool. An idiot. A disgrace to the Targaryen name. I will never be loved by anyone. Not ever. Because I do not deserve it."
"all kings and lords are drunks. Most are also fools and idiots. The Targaryens have ruled a dynasty longer then anyone can remember, there have been many disgraces Aegon. You will not the the first nor will you be the last I'm sure of it. And I would make a bet one day there will be targaryens even worse then you that will make your crimes and your unworthiness seem like footnotes of history. You have not had time to find your talents with all this madness going on. And everyone deserves love in some way or another," she explained as she came over gave his head another kiss and set down a plate of hash browns and bacon a nice breakfast for him something she never usually served to people,
Aegon was speechless for a moment. He didn't like the fact that she was being so kind. It almost made him feel like...like he was wrong. And he knew better than this. This was the first time that maybe he was actually...wrong. No one had ever talked to him like this. Perhaps there was something to her story....but he still wanted to be stubborn and refuse being wrong. He took a bite from the hashbrown and spoke softly. "I still hate you..."
"I'm sure you do," she chuckled
He ate another bite and then another before he spoke. "Have we ever kissed while I was sober?"
"Not that I recall" she shrugged cleaning sine tankards behind the bar "Then again you’re so rarely sober here... I think I've only seen you sober... Twice... And both of those you were just hungover"
He kept eating his food in silence before asking her another question. "Are you married? I don’t recall ever asking,"
"You’ve never asked, and Not married no, honestly having a husband as a bar maid is sort of an occupational hazard they often get jealous and get beaten up usually. But I do have someone special,"
He stopped eating for a moment, almost choking on the bite he took of food as he processed what she just said. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “You DO? But you’ve kissed me so many times… and we’ve-” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice now. She was the first woman who he thought cared about him, and she already had someone.
"yes? Relax I'm not dating my special person it's a very different relationship but I love them very much,"
Aegon raised his eyebrows as he was taken aback by the unexpected answer. So she did love someone else, though apparently it wasn’t in a boyfriend or girlfriend sense. “Then what do you mean by special? Family?” He asked curiously for the first time, about the woman he was kissing and sleeping with so often, but never knew anything about.
"mhm, my twins" she nodded,
Now that was most certainly unexpected. He had no idea she had children. He took a bite of food and then asked her another question. “How old are they?”
"three."
“Boys or girls?”
"both one boy and one girl"
"What are their names?"
"Orland and Ophelia"
He was surprised by their names. They were quite beautiful. He had thought more common names. Aegon had a look on his face of pleasant surprise as he spoke again. "Are you going to give them another sibling?"
"I'm not planning on it but I wasn't planning in having them so if it happens I guess" she shrugged,
"And who is the father of your children?" He wanted to know more about her now and even if he didn't like it the breakfast and this chat was certainly sobering him up,
she didn't answer she simply continued to clean the tankards behind the bar, her eyes on the bar for a moment before she simply looked at him and that look told him all he needed to know, Aegon knew what that look meant, and when he did he almost choked on the last bite of food he had in his mouth. He tried to swallow it down but it didn't seem to go down. Almost like the food was stuck in his throat. All he could do was stare at her in silence after that, not even knowing what to say because he couldn't believe what he had just heard.
The silence between them went on for a bit when Aegon finally cleared his throat and spoke, though his voice was quiet and sounded hoarse.
“Shela Are you saying…?”
"yes. They're yours Aegon."
A long silence followed, as he looked at her in disbelief. His mouth was open and his eyes widened. Finally he spoke in barely a whisper. "You're joking?"
"Why would I joke about that? You think having a couple of Targaryen bastard's running around is something I'd like to be advertising?"
His eyes widened even more at the realization. The twins were his children. His blood. His flesh and bone. The thought alone overwhelmed him. For a moment he just stared at the ground. He was a father. And he had no clue. He was ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he had not been there for her, for them. He turned his head to look up at her again. "How long....how long have I been a father?" his voice trembling,
"well the twins are three. So add nine months from that. And I was pregnant about a year before the twins too but… I lost it"
"Oh gods...how come you never came to tell me about this?" He seemed hurt by that thought. She had his children. His blood. he'd been missing their lives for all this time.
"I did. I told you both times as soon as I knew. However, you were drunk and didn't care"
This had shocked him again. He didn’t even remember her telling him. He was so drunk all the time he couldn’t remember such things. Aegon tried to remember those memories but realized they were lost in the haze of alcohol that had clouded his past. He sighed as he realized not only did he have two children. He also missed his chance to be with the woman who truly cared for him and that in some strange way deep in his soul… he loved. He was a fool. He finally spoke again, his tone sorrowful. “Do they know about me?”
"of course they do"
He seemed surprised by that. He let out a long exhale and leaned back in his seat. His face had an expression of sadness and regret, but he tried to keep it hidden. It was his fault that she had been raising them alone for this long, and it was his fault that he was missing so much of their lives. He finally spoke with this mixture of emotions inside of him, the words laced with sadness. “Can I meet them?”
She set the tankard down, she checked the tavern was empty but the two of them. She went and locked the doors and drew the blinds clearly fearful of someone seeing her children and it became clear why, she unlocked the door that led to the basement apartment she and her children lived in and she called them up. And soon enough two happy little three year olds came into the bar, both had bright Targaryen blonde hair, Y/E/C eyes like Shela's, they wore decent clean clothes for smallfolk and seemed very happy little Ophelia even had a bunny stuffie under her arm,
Aegon's heart melted the moment he laid eyes upon his children. His son and daughter. A son and a daughter. The twins he had never known about. His children. He couldn't quite believe his eyes. And the way they came in so happily...he suddenly felt like a horrible father for being absent in their lives until now. But they didn't care. They were just happy at the sight of their father. That thought alone almost brought him to tears. He smiled at the sight of his children and waved them over. He had to meet them. He had so much to make up for. They were both so adorable. He hadn't felt this warm in a long time. The warmth he got after drinking was nothing compared to the warmth he got from seeing his children. His beautiful children.
Ophelia happily skipped over and hugged his leg, Orland was more tentative slowly walking over and sitting across from him, He gently bent down and picked Ophelia up, hugging her and holding her in his arms. He looked at her for moment before he spoke, his tone full of warmth. "Hello, little one."
Orland didn’t say a word, and Ophelia giggled happily at being picked up and sat on Aegon’s knee she nodded and took her bunny plushie moving it to use the plush to kiss Aegon’s cheek
"He is a bit... Standoffish" Shela explained fixing Orland's hair, "she however is a giggle pig" Shela smiled giving Ophelia a tickle and making her giggle like crazy
Aegon laughed aloud as he watched Ophelia being so affectionate. She was a sweet child. He also smiled and looked at Orland. He seemed to be the opposite of his sister. He was shy, stoic and quiet. He didn’t say anything as he sat across. Aegon smiled and waved for Orland to join him on his lap. He wanted to hold both this sweet children, his children.
Orland didn't move but he spoke "where have you been daddy?"
"Orland. Don't be rude" Shela said
A tear escaped Aegon’s eye at Orland’s words. He had not expected that question, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. He understood why he would ask that. Aegon was still their father after all. He wiped away his tear and spoke softly, he didn’t feel like he deserved the title of father but he was willing to fight for it. “I’m here now,”
"but mummy says your important, that's why you don't visit us. Mummy says it's not safe for you to visit us cause your family is all big and important" Ophelia said,
"We're bastards." Orland snapped. "That's why you don't come to see us,"
"Orland! What have I told you about that word!" Shela told him off
Aegon listened to them as they spoke. They knew they were bastards. He listened quietly to them as they spoke. He wanted them to know that he did not agree, "I am your father. You may be bastards as well, but that does not change the fact that you are MY children."
"we missed you daddy," Ophelia giggled
He was touched by the words. They'd missed him. How could he have missed such wonderful children? How could he have not known about the most precious beings in the world? He was ashamed of himself all over again now. But he was grateful to her that she had raised them so well. He chuckled softly as Ophelia giggled, holding her tightly with one arm and then patting her head with the other. His eyes went back to see Orland and he smiled again. "Can I hug you as well, Orland?"
Orland shook his head "you're just going to leave again, run off back to the red keep and never see us again, you'll get drunk and forget we exist -"
"Orland!" Shela said
"No! He's just going to leave us again. We're bastards, he can't stay with us, he will never want to stay with us he just wants to live in the castle with his royal family. We're just some bastards he doesn't care about us. And when you become king it'll get us killed when someone finds out"
This hurt Aegon. It hurt him more than any pain he had felt before. Orland was right, wasn't he? This is exactly what he did before. He left them. But he had been too stupid to see it. Aegon put Ophelia down and went to wrap his arms gently around his son. "You are not just some bastard's. You are my children. Yes I was an idiot. I was drunk and I forgot about you. But I will not leave you again. I promise."
Orland trembled clearly wanting to hug him back "But your just going to leave go back to the red keep and we won't ever see you again"
Aegon squeezed him gently to reassure him the moment he saw his son trembling. He would not let his son feel afraid of him anymore. "No. I don't care what they think there. I don't care what my sister thinks or any other person there thinks. My home...my real home now is with you. I won't leave you again. You are my children. And I love you no matter what."
"what about when the king's guard come looking off you, or your family, what happens when the king dies and your needed to be king. You'll leave us. You'll abandon us again. Kings guard will kill us for being bastard's" Orland hugged him but cried in fear
Aegon squeezed him gently and held him for a few seconds before speaking. He didn’t want his son to have fear and worry about such things. He would protect them no matter what happened. “No one will ever hurt you. If someone comes looking after me, I’ll make sure I’m strong enough to protect you. And if I have to become king then I swear to the gods that I will not abandon you ever again. The only thing that matters is you and your sister and I love you both.”
Orland trembled but decided to nod and trust him for now, Ophelia smiled and joined the hug so Aegon had both his children in his arms which made Shela chuckle, Aegon smiled at the sight of them both in his arms, their bodies tightly pressed against his. They were warm and soft and for a moment those four felt like a perfect family. The thought made him want to tear up, how could he have been so foolish before? He would do better. He would be the father they needed. He would never leave them again. They were going to be his entire world now.
38 notes · View notes
kckt88 · 23 hours
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The Lost Dragon Part 2
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I - Unity
II -
27 notes · View notes
aemondsbabe · 5 months
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The Gods and Everyone
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summary: you and aemond sorely overestimate how much time you have before a small council meeting, which leaves the two of you in quite a scandalous predicament
pairing: aemond targaryen x reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, cockwarming, public sex, slight breeding kink, fingering, aemond being an absolute menace, dirty talk, aegon being a little shit but what else is new, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 5.6k
a/n: based on an anon request for cockwarming! i hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this, friend! sorry it took me so long to get to it!
creds to @bbygirl-aemond for the gif!
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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You watch, concerned, as your husband flits around the Small Council chamber, your eyes following his lithe form as he checks and re-checks the parchment with notes he had written for himself earlier that morning – you’d awoken in the pale hour just before sunrise to see him already hunched over the small desk in your chambers, scribbling away furiously with a quill, his pale hair glowing in the dim light of the candle next to him. All of your attempts to lure him back into bed with you had fallen on deaf ears. 
“You know you needn't do all this,” you point out, perched against the Small Council table, your eyes tracking him as he paces back and forth across the space, going over his notes for the upteenth time, “Your only job is to be on time like everyone else, husband.”
“Things will improve with time,” he rushes out, fixing you with a pointed look, “Hardly two moons have passed since Viserys…” He pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose, “The least I can do is ease this transition for Aegon and mother.”
“My love, it is a transition for us all,” you soothe, striding to him and gently taking his hand. His fingers, rough from all his years of training with swords and spears, instantly wrap around your own as he lets out a tired sigh, “You included. Aegon named you Master of War, not master of everything.” 
“I know,” Aemond murmurs, eye softening as his gaze traces over you, “I find it hard to be still when there is so much chaos – Dorne has yet to be subdued and there are whispers of rebellion from the North. There is so much still to be accounted for.”
“I understand,” you reassure him, your fingers threading through his long, silvery hair, lips quirking into a smile as the gesture makes his eye flutter closed for a second. “But all this stress cannot be good for you, husband,” you sigh, gazing up at him with a mournful smile, “You need rest and calm and…and I need you.” You nearly whisper, blush creeping across your cheeks as Aemond’s eye darkens. 
“Sweetling—“ He starts with a sigh. 
“Aemond, please,” you cut him off, wrapping your arms around his trim waist as you lay your head against his chest, his heart thumping in your ear, “I cannot bear to hear another excuse, I feel as if you have been away for weeks.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, wrapping his long, lean arms tightly around you as he rests his chin on your head, your breaths the only sound in the stony chamber. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispers, smoothing a hand up and down your back, “I miss you too, my sweet girl.” 
You hum, leaning further into his embrace after going without it for so long, “You haven’t touched me in weeks.” You say quietly, his touch already igniting a spark in the pit of your stomach. 
“Perhaps tonight,” his breath is warm against the top of your head as he speaks into your hair, “I will try to cut my meeting with–”
“You’ve been saying that for weeks,” you cut him off once more with a sigh, pulling back to look up at him, “I can’t take anymore, my love, I need to feel you.” You whine, nearly petulant like a spoiled child. If it were any other time, if you were any less desperate, you’d be embarrassed at your behavior. Right now, though, you could not find it within yourself to care as you stared into your husband’s darkened eye, finally feeling the passion you had gone so many weeks without. 
Aemond chuckles as he looks down at you, conflicted between feeling pleased to see you reduced to such a state while also feeling a similar fire in his own belly. “Sweetling, the meeting–”
“Is not due to start for at least another hour!” You interrupt, determined to persuade him to this. Taking you in various parts of the Keep was not new to him, both of you had plenty of memories from your courtship and first year of marriage of rutting together in all sorts of nooks and crannies of the old castle. 
Aemond gazes at you for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, though his eye remains dark with desire. After a second, he nods to himself almost imperceptibly, seeming to come to some decision you weren’t privy to. Finally, finally his lips descend upon yours as he sweeps you into an all-consuming kiss, his arms tightening around your waist as he pulls you to him, groaning lowly in his throat as he licks into your mouth. You shiver in his grasp, finally tasting him properly after so long as you whimper and whine into his mouth.
“Aemond,” you gasp as you finally part from him, mewling as he immediately trails kisses down your jaw, “What–”
“Seems I can never deny you for very long, sweetling,” he huffs, halfway laughing as he guides you over to the large table, pulling you up by the waist until you’re sitting on the cool stone table, your legs bracketing his trim waist, “I’ve missed you too, my love.” He confesses, sweeping a lock of hair from your shoulder before trailing kisses up across your neck and jaw, one hand already desperately pulling up the bottom of your gown.
You huff out small moans and whimpers, relishing his warm touch. His nimble fingers finally manage to undo the knot at the front of your smallclothes and he tugs them down quickly, leaving you bare for him under your skirts as they fall to a pile on the floor just beside his chair at the table. 
“Husband,” you pant, tugging at the drawstrings at the top of his trousers, “Please, please do not make me beg today, I–” Your train of thought is cut off as a moan, louder than it should be given the location, tears itself from your throat when you feel his long fingers ghost over your center.
“Shh, darling,” Aemond grins as he feels your arousal immediately coat his fingers, a pleased hum emanating from deep in his chest as he feels it already coating the insides of your thighs as well, “I don’t have the patience to restrain myself today, sweet one,” he mutters, watching your face carefully as he spreads your folds and teases your entrance with a finger before carefully sliding it in, groaning with satisfaction at the feel of your walls already tightly clamping down on it, “Nor the time.” He adds with a slight smirk, pale hair cascading like a curtain down his shoulders as he leans his forehead against yours. 
“Oh, Gods,” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut as your hands white knuckle the dark leather of his tunic, too uncoordinated with lust to manage the ties on his pants, “M-My love, more please!” You whisper, angling your hips to try and catch another of his fingers. 
You hear him chuckle above you before he pulls his finger from you, smirking as you whine pitifully at the loss. Before you have a chance to protest, he quickly undoes his trousers, not bothering to pull them down at all and opting to merely loosen the laces at the front enough to free his cock. Your eyes widen as you watch his hand stroke over his length momentarily, taking in the way it already throbs in his grasp, the head flushed and leaking from merely having you in his hands once more.
“Ready, sweetling?” He asks, gently tilting your chin up as he captures your lips in a sweet kiss, his other hand positioning his length at your entrance. 
You part from him and nod eagerly, widening your legs and angling your hips, “I’ve been ready for you for weeks, Aemond.” 
He smiles softly, pressing one more kiss against your neck before finally pressing into you, growling as he sinks into your slick heat. “Seven,” he grunts, cradling the back of your head with one hand as his other slinks down to grab at your hip, “You feel better every time, sweetling.”
You moan hotly against his shoulder, sinking your teeth into the thick leather of the shoulder of his tunic in an attempt to quiet yourself. Your eyes squeeze shut at the feel of him sliding into you, filling you to the brim perfectly. You’ve been without him for so long that he feels enormous, your walls aching as he stretches you out, pressing in and in until he’s finally seated fully within you. 
Without another word, Aemond started thrusting into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace with every firm roll of his hips into you. After only a moment, he’s already grunting like a madman into your ear, holding you to him even as you cling tightly to his shoulders yourself, your legs wrapped loosely around his waist. 
You feel a fire building in your belly at a breakneck pace as he ruts into you, the hand on your hip no doubt leaving fingerprint bruises across your skin, even through the fabric of your gown. If the low groans from your husband are any indication, he isn’t doing much better. He threads his fingers through your hair, pulling you into a desperate kiss, teeth and tongues clashing together frantically as if the two of you are trying to fall into each other, to become one. 
“My love, I—,” he pants against your lips, jerking your head back by the grip he has on your locks. His eye meets yours, the light lilac almost entirely eclipsed by his pupil as he stares at you hungrily, “It’s been so long, I don’t know how long I can last.” 
His breath is warm as it fans over your lips and you nod dazedly, zings of pleasure radiating up your spine from Aemond’s grip in your hair only adding to the warmth quickly threatening to overtake you. “It’s okay,” you swallow thickly, eyes already rolling back with pleasure, “I can’t either.” 
Nodding in return, he picks up the pace, the head of his cock rutting against the most sensitive spot within you hard enough to make you see stars. He hasn’t even needed to tease your pearl and you’re already nearly unraveling as Aemond mumbles nearly incoherent praises, the hand on your hip traveling lower, nearly cupping your ass. 
Just as you’re about to warn him of your inevitable release, muffled voices sound from behind the thick wooden doors that lead into the Small Council chambers. Aemond slows within you as both of your heads swivel to the doors — just in time to hear the guards stationed outside begin to tug them open. 
You freeze, eyes widening as the doors open, seemingly in slow motion. Thankfully, your husband moves quickly enough for the both of you, nimbly scooping you into his arms before hastily dropping down into his chair, hurriedly scooching it forward until both of your laps are hidden under the stone surface of the table, before kicking your smallclothes under the table at the last second. 
Your head whips around to face Aemond and you give him a panicked, wide-eyed look just as people start filing into the room, unaware that you’re still being split open by your husband’s length. One hand, still on your hip, tightens, silently commanding you to be still as his lilac eye pleads the same; his other hand is already poised on the table, relaxed against the cool surface as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. 
“Yes, yes, we must certainly ask him once he’s back in King’s Landing,” Lord Tyland’s voice fills the chamber as he walks in, engaged in a conversation about something or other with Lord Corlys, the two sharing a laugh before finally taking notice of you and Aemond, “Prince, princess.” Tyland bows his head at the two of you with Corlys following soon after. 
You sit frozen atop your husband, gazing blankly at the two men without a word. Thankfully, Aemond has the presence of mind to bow his head politely, though he stays quiet. As they walk further into the room, you can only see Tyland and Corlys from the corner of your eye but you don’t miss the odd look they share, silently asking each other why you were present and certainly why you were sitting on Aemond’s lap. Blood rushes to your head so quickly you feel lightheaded, your cheeks stinging as a harsh blush quickly appears on your face from their attention. 
Maester Orwyle files through the doorway next, doing a double take at you and Aemond before bowing his head, a gesture that you thankfully remember to return this time as you stiffly nod your head. Thankfully, the older man simply takes a seat at his place at the table without any comment, though you can hear the two other men speaking quietly in the corner of the room, throwing glances your way as they do. 
Your walls tighten around Aemond’s length as the rest of you tenses up when Larys creeps in, leaning against his cane as he moves; Aemond thighs tense underneath you as you hear him suck in a breath, only slightly more hasty than normal — the hand in your hip tightens, warning you to keep it together. 
“Prince Aemond, princess,” Larys nods as he approaches the table, “To what do we owe the pleasure of such… intriguing company?” He questions, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes ever so slightly, his eyes bouncing between you and Aemond. 
Your head spins as you stare straight ahead, willing yourself to respond, to say anything, to appear somehow normal. Yet, nothing comes out as your center throbs uselessly around Aemond, your head cloudy with need as your eyes stare ahead blankly, though registering just enough to pick up on the small smirk playing at the corners of Larys’s lips. 
“My wife appears to have taken ill this morning,” Aemond drawls from over your shoulder while affectionately petting your waist, a gesture entirely for show, a lie to placate the men in the room, but it comforts you nonetheless. He clears his throat before continuing, the only tell thus far that your warmth around him is affecting him at all, “My presence brings her great comfort, I see no reason why she should be without it.” 
“I see,” Larys hums in response, his dark eyes sweeping over your form, sparkling ominously as if he knows the truth, “What shame, let us hope the Gods grant you reprieve from this…illness soon, princess.” 
“Yes!” You finally squeak, snapping back to attention as Aemond just barely squeezes your side, “Yes, let’s hope so. Thank you, Lord Larys.” You breathe, managing a smile small. 
You shift on your husband’s lap and immediately you know you’ve made a mistake as the head of his cock prods directly into that overly sensitive patch within you, nearly making you topple over on the spot as a small groan escapes you. Blessedly, you have enough presence of mind to cover it up with a cough, sparks jolting down your back as Aemond presses a soft kiss to your cheek, one of his hands coming up to rub soothing circles against the back of your shoulder. 
“There, there, sweetling,” he says softly, again, entirely for show as you put on your best performance, “Once the meeting is over, we will have the servants make some tea for you, that will help with that cough.” Even if it was for show, you couldn’t help but shiver at Aemond’s low voice, at how he’s being so soft and caring with you. That, combined with the incessant prodding to your sweet spot, has you throbbing around him, your heart hammering in your chest. You can hear Aemond suck in another barely there gasp behind you, a groan low enough to remain silent rumbling against your back while at the same time his hand almost imperceptibly twitches on the table; his composure makes you feel all the more lightheaded, blushing somehow deeper at the fact that he’s taking you apart this easily without so much as moving a muscle. Your thighs trembled atop his lap, the insides already sticky with your arousal as you struggled to stay still, silently thanking the Gods that at least your laps were hidden. 
“I’m sorry,” Corlys began, striding over from his spot in the corner with a sheepish look, “I really feel I must speak up, this is really most unusual.” He finishes through an awkward laugh, Tyland following closely behind him as they saddle up to the table. 
“What is most unusual?” Alicent asks, entering the Small Council chambers with Otto, followed closely after by Aegon and Ser Criston. Her eyes sweep over the room, pausing when she sees you, though she quickly corrects herself with a soft smile. “Ah, my dear,” she nods hello to the various men in the room before sitting at the table, “May I ask why your wife joins us, Aemond?” She peers at him curiously, throwing a nervous glance at Aegon who is smirking far too much for her liking as he slinks up to the table. 
“It seems the princess has fallen ill, your grace,” Larys answers quickly, slyly smiling as he turns to face the dowager queen, “Prince Aemond insisted she stay so that she may be…comforted.” You quickly look away from him as his eyes meet yours once again, piercing through you as though he can see directly through your gown. 
“Yes, which is most odd,” Tyland butted in, throwing glances between you, Aemond, Alicent, and Aegon, “She is not a member of the council, she should not be present. Surely there is some way the princess could be comforted that does not involve being privy to government matters.”
Aemond stays silent behind you, glaring daggers at Aegon over your shoulder, watching carefully as he traipses over to the table and stands at its head, his eyes never straying from his brother’s as they stare one another down. The other members, some reluctantly, take their places at the table as well, each of them standing so long as Aegon does, though you and Aemond remain seated; your eyes never stray from the marbled surface of the table.
“Aemond, please,” Otto sighs from his place next to you, “The least you and the princess could do is stand for–”
“I see him everyday,” Aegon interjects, breaking eye contact with your husband as he rolls his eyes, “I don’t give a shit if the fool stands.”
Your eyes dart up at that, shocked that Aegon isn’t taking the chance to thoroughly humiliate Aemond by putting him on the spot. The king’s violet eyes meet yours, sparkling with a mischief that makes your center flutter around your husband’s length – Aegon’s smirk grows as if he knows exactly what just happened. A thin sheen of sweat makes you feel clammy as Aemond’s cock twitches inside of you, pushing him against your sweet spot all the more. 
“Very well,” Alicent swiftly cuts in, determined to keep the peace, “Shall we get st–”
“Are we really going to allow for the presence of–” Corlys starts, only to be viciously cut off.
“She stays,” Aegon says flatly, shooting a bored look at the man, “If anyone has an issue with the princess’s presence they may take their leave.” His violet eyes pass over the room, almost daring anyone to move. Everyone remains still, though you can feel Tyland and Corlys glaring at the side of your head, and after a moment, Aegon takes his seat followed by everyone else; blessedly, the meeting finally begins. 
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The Small Council meeting drones on and on, with various conversations of coin and ships, concerns abroad in Essos, and other diplomatic matters that mean nothing to you. In the back of your mind, you know it’s hardly been any time at all but it feels like an eternity has passed with Aemond’s hard length still piercing into you, twitching against your pulsing walls every so often. A part of you wonders if he does it on purpose, gives you just enough stimulation to cruelly tease you before going stock still once more. 
The small, unnoticeable to everyone but you, hitches of his breath tell you otherwise and deep down, you know he’s just as affected as you, no doubt steadily leaking into you, though you dare not consider the thought for very long. 
“Aemond,” your breath catches in your throat as Otto directs his attention to your husband, everyone else's gaze quickly following, “Any further communications from Dorne?”
Behind you, your husband clears his throat and you feel him shift beneath you, sitting up slightly straighter in his seat, both hands now clasping your waist to keep you steady on top of him. “Negotiations with the Dornish remain stagnant,” he begins as you practically wilt on his lap, the added attention from the council members making the knot in your belly tighten in a way you shudder to consider, “We received a raven from Prince Qoren some days ago rejecting any dealings with the crown, no matter the amount of coin we have to offer.” He finishes, pointedly looking at Tyland, who proceeds to butt in.
As soon as the attention shifts off of the two of you, it’s like the air around Aemond changes, becoming charged all of a sudden as you feel his chest heave against your back. At the other end of the table, Tyland begins to raise his voice, debating hotly with Corlys and Otto, drawing the attention of everyone else to them. 
“Do you think you can be still?” Aemond whispers, his breath hot against your ear although his voice is barely audible even to you. He must sense you freeze on his lap as the hand on your hip begins to move slowly, dragging your skirts up your legs until his hand can slip underneath them, making you tremble as he grips the soft skin of your thigh, “Tighten around my cock if you can be still.”
Against your better judgment, you do as he says, tensing as you clench your walls around him; his only reply is a low growl against your back. He stays still for a moment, trying with all of his might to appear as if he’s taking great interest in the ongoing argument taking place. 
Finally, once he’s positive everyone is too preoccupied arguing over coin to pay attention to either of you, his deft fingers slip through your folds before finally twirling against your aching pearl. 
You have to bite harshly at the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, trying to keep your breathing steady as you focus on not moving even though you so badly want to rut your hips against his fingers as they rub against you. 
Aemond swallows thickly behind you as he slowly circles his fingers, careful to keep his pace light and steady to not stir up any slick sounds from your wet cunt, though he longs to hear them. 
Your elbows rest against the top of the table, your hands clasped tightly in front of you. The conversation around you seems to shift as Otto begins prattling on about some Tyrell woman finally being with child. Aemond’s fingers suddenly pinch at your sensitive bud and a gasp tumbles past your lips before you can stop it, drawing everyone’s attention. 
“Is everything alright, princess?” Alicent questions from across the table, her dark eyes narrowed with concern. 
You nod quickly, coughing to conceal a moan as you open your mouth to answer her, “Y-Yes, I’m sorry,” you apologize with a weak smile, “I’m just so pleased for the Tyrells, what a j-joyous time this must be for them.” You say quickly, stumbling over the words as your core clenches tightly around your husband’s cock, his small touches driving you steadily to your peak despite the circumstances. 
Alicent gives you a curious look before quickly collecting herself, “Yes, I’m sure the family is quite thankful, children are always such a blessing,” she smiles politely before turning back to her father, “Please, continue.” 
Otto’s voice hardly reaches your ears as he picks up where he left off, though you don’t miss the horribly put out looks you garner from Tyland and Corlys. 
Aemond’s fingers just barely speed up as they swirl over your bud, though the small change is enough to drive you wild and you can feel the way his chest heaves against your back as your walls twitch around his length, threatening to milk his cock dry without him having to move an inch. 
The heat that has slowly been building within you finally begins to bubble over and your husband’s fingers show no signs of stopping as he pushes you closer and closer to your breaking point. The hand of his that has been resting idly on the table top comes over to casually rest against your clenched hands and rubs soothingly up and down your forearm, Aemond’s silent way of telling you he knows you’re close. 
Your eyes flick around the room as you feel your peak threatening to spill over you, frantically checking for any onlookers at the last possible second. You nearly jump out of your skin as your eyes finally land on Aegon, only to find him already staring at you, an amused smirk plastered across his face as he studies you. 
Aemond chooses that exact second to pinch at your pearl again and the small touch is your undoing. Your teeth bite down firmly on your tongue as your walls pulse rhythmically around your husband’s leaking cock, your eyes still locked on Aegon’s violet ones, now darkened with lust. 
Your muscles tense up as you peak helplessly, waves of pleasure lighting up every nerve ending within you. Somehow, you find it within yourself to remain quiet and still on Aemond’s lap as your eyes finally flick away from his older brother’s and you gaze, apparently absentmindedly, at some point on the wall on the opposite side of the room as your high subsides. 
Thankfully, Aemond takes pity on you and slips his hand away, his wet fingers resting gently in your bare thigh, still underneath your gown. 
You slowly come down from your high as the Small Council winds down, Aegon and Otto quickly discussing a few final points before the king formally adjourns the meeting. Tyland and Corlys practically bolt from their chairs, quickly bowing before they exit as they mumble between themselves, no doubt about the displeasure of your presence. 
Otto and Maester Orwyle take their leave soon after, each bowing politely. Aegon busies himself at the head of the table, leaning back in his chair as he lazily sips from his wine cup, the gleam in his eyes making you shiver. 
Across the room, Alicent and Larys whisper between themselves. Strangely, your mother-in-law blushes, shaking her head suddenly and mumbling a quiet, “Not here,” before glancing around the room.
Larys merely shrugs, turning to you as he shuffles from the room, “Do get better soon, princess.” He says with a feeble bow, although the look on his face makes you blush heavily. 
At that, Alicent turns to Aegon, “Would you care to come see the children with me?”
“Go on,” he dismisses her before nodding toward you and Aemond, “I wish to have a word with my brother.” He catches your eye with a quick wink. 
“Of course,” Alicent mutters, glancing curiously between the three of you, “I’ll ask the maids to bring some tea to your chambers this evening, princess. They make a wonderful lemon one that always seems to lift my spirits.” She says with a kind smile, coming around to place a comforting hand on your shoulder before she too heads to the door. 
“Thank you!” You breathily call after her, voice squeaking at the end as Aemond shuffles impatiently beneath you, his cock still prodding against your sensitive walls. 
Aegon chuckles darkly as soon as the doors close once more, standing from his chair with a wide smirk. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he taunts, eyes glinting as he looks between you and his brother, “I didn’t think either of you had that much gaul in you.” 
“What exactly are you tittering about now?” Aemond asks lowly behind you, his voice rough and choppy as his patience clearly wears thin. 
Sniggering, Aegon saunters around to stand beside you, violet eyes scanning over your laps still concealed under the table, “You’ve had your cock in her the whole time, have you not?” He teases, laughing harder still as Aemond merely hums in response, “Come brother, you should be proud of yourself,” he clasps a hand over your husband's shoulder, “She was nearly falling apart when she peaked.” He comments with a final wink as he ambles to the door, stopping to throw one last amused look over his shoulder, “You might want to do something about that bite mark on your shoulder.” He says casually before slamming the doors closed behind him. 
At his comment, you whirl around and your eyes grow wide as you spy a clear impression of your teeth marks in the leather of Aemond’s tunic, on his shoulder where you’d bitten down earlier. Your cheeks heat up at the thought of it being there throughout the entire meeting. 
You don’t have long to dwell on the thought though as your husband roughly pushes you from his lap until you’re bent over the table, cheek pressed to the cool stone surface. “Seven!” You sequel as he unceremoniously shoves his cock back inside you, his hips pumping wildly as his hands grasp at your waist harshly, no doubt leaving bruises. 
“Fucking finally,” he grunts, eyeing the way his cock disappears into your slick heat as he bunches your gown up over your ass, “‘M not gonna last.” He warns lowly, already panting with the speed of his thrusts. 
Your head spins once again as his cock moves within you, his pace nearly bruising. Your teeth sink into the skin of your forearm as you desperately try to keep quiet, another peak already welling up within you. 
Aemond growls and quickly threads the fingers of one hand through your hair, making you whine loudly as he pulls your head back until his chest is once again pressed against you, his other hand coming to rub against your abused pearl once more. 
“Aemond!” You moan, shaking your head in his grasp, one hand braced against the table as the other grabs at his forearm, feeling his muscles twitch as his fingers swirl against your center, “P-Please, I cannot keep myself quiet, I know I can’t—“ You start babbling. 
“Let them fucking hear,” he growls, eye squeezing shut as he feels his stones tightening up, “The whole keep can listen for all I fucking care, I won’t be stopping this time.” 
Your eyes roll back in your head at his words, never having heard him sound this possessed and overcome with pleasure before. After only a few more thrusts, you feel your walls twitch once more, a loud gasp rattling through your chest, “H-Husband, I’m—!”
“That’s it,” Aemond groans, redoubling his efforts against your pearl as he continues to rut into you at a nearly inhuman pace. “Peak, sweetling,” he commands, his voice low and raspy in your ear, “Peak while I breed your precious cunt.” 
His words nearly take your breath away and you whine loudly as another high washes over you, your walls milking your husband’s cock as they clench and pulse against it. 
Behind you, Aemond groans lowly, grunting as his cock twitches strongly inside you, his thick seed flooding into your heat as he finally, finally peaks, the pleasure of it making him dizzy as he leans against your back, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades. 
The two of you are quiet for a moment, your tired pants the only sounds in the chambers. Finally, Aemond untangles his fingers from your hair, both of his hands coming to rest against the cool table as he finally pulls his cock from your center, soothing you with soft shushes when you whine, the emptiness in your core such a foreign feeling after being filled for so long. 
He sinks into his chair once more and pulls you with him, wrapping a protective arm around your waist as you rest your head on his shoulder. Once your breathing is steady, you pick your head up, a displeased groan tumbling from your throat as you see your bite mark more clearly up close, a finger coming up to trace over the intents in the black leather. 
“I’ll need to send this to the seamstress for repairs,” you whisper with an apologetic sigh, “I believe this is beyond my ability to fix.” 
Aemond chuckles beneath you, lilac eye gleaming with pride as he clasps a hand over yours as it still rests on his shoulder, “Don’t trouble yourself with it, my love.” 
“What?” You question, smiling despite the way you tilt your head in confusion, “Aemond, I cannot fix it myself and I’m afraid the mark will not simply go away—,” 
“You misunderstand me, sweetling,” he says, smiling as he looks down at you, “I intend to keep it as a mark of great pride. I shall wear it as a trophy for all to see.” He explains with a teasing laugh. 
You playfully smack a hand against his chest, which only makes him laugh harder, “You can’t be serious!” You admonish with a wide smile.
“Why? I simply wish to remember this day,” he chuckles, “The day I made my sweet wife peak in front of the Gods and everyone.” 
“Aemond!” You cannot help the surprised laugh that leaves you, “You’re as disgusting as your brother!”
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youraverageaemondsimp · 2 months
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A brother's duty. // Husband!Aegon ii Targaryen x Wife!Reader x Aemond Targaryen
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Summary: Aegon seemed to have noticed how much his younger brother, Aemond, fancies you, as a self proclaimed caring older brother, he decides to fulfill that role by giving Aemond what he wants, which is you.
WARNINGS: afab!fem!reader, dubious consent, threesome, m/m/f, dacryphilia, rough sex, manhandling, slight humiliation, degrading, double penetration, mentions of infidelity (aegon visiting brothels), slight misogyny, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, oral (f. receiving, m. receiving), pussy drunk aemond, lactation kink, cum eating, anal sex, lmk if I missed any! + not proofread.
WC: 4.7k
A/N: the anal sex in this isn't "realistic" aka no prior preparation so please don't come at me and go ''that isn't how anal sex works 😡😡😡 you have to do blah blah blah'' ik but this is just a work of fiction so pls just enjoy it // divider credits: @cafekitsune
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“Aemond, do you perhaps fancy my wife?” Aegon tilts his head to the side, questioning his brother as they sit together in the library, quietly reading, of course, until the short pale haired man decided to break the silence.
“Brother, this is no place for such discussions.” Aemond tries dodging the question, but Aegon simply rolls his eyes grunting loudly in displeasure, “Just answer the question.” Aegon says annoyed and Aemond pursues his lip, lost deep in thought.
“What if I say ‘yes’?” Aemond asks, “Then I'd have your head for that.” Aegon smiles which makes Aemond shift uncomfortably in his seat, “Come on! I was kidding, do you really think I'd kill my own blood-related brother over a woman?” Aegon laughs loudly and Aemond sighs but he furrows his brows, “She is your wife.” Aemond states sternly, but Aegon shrugs, “And you are my brother.” He replies.
Aemond lets out another heavy sigh, hoping that he'd escape this situation he'd somehow gotten into, “So?” Aegon pushes further, poking at Aemond to answer the question and Aemond hums in irritance before being fed up and answering Aegon's question. “Yes, I do fancy your wife.” He admits, slightly ashamed.
Aemond was a man of the faith, believing in the faith of the seven, and according to the scripture, desiring a woman is a carnal sin, diabolical if she's a married woman, abysmal if she's your own brother's wife.
But Aemond couldn't help it, it's as if though the gods were testing him, not only were you pleasant on the eye but you were also very polite and had the same interests as him, and most probably the only woman — besides his sister — who was not disgusted after seeing his injury.
He knew he had to stop developing an interest towards you once he found out that you were being married to Aegon, but for some inexplicable reason; that only made him want you more, perhaps it was the label of you being ‘forbidden’ that enticed him further, making him yearn to get the taste of the forbidden fruit more than ever.
How he had wished that it was him instead, the one getting married to you, he wished it was he who fucked you, he wished it was him who got you pregnant, he wished it was his babe you waddled all around the red keep with, he wished it was his child that you had given birth to.
But those were nothing more than just wishes, wishes that would never come true, unless a miracle happens.
“That wasn't hard now was it?” Aegon's voice snaps Aemond out of his train of thoughts and Aemond simply hums, “Why did you ask such a question?” Aemond inquires curiously and Aegon smirks at him, “I may not be sober most of the time but the way you stare at her doesn't go unnoticed, your desire burns deep for her doesn't it? I've especially taken note of it when she was pregnant with my child, your eye never left her womb.” He answers and Aemond rolls his eye.
The atmosphere is filled with silence once again as Aemond continues to silently read his book.
“I would've let you fuck her if you had asked me to.” that statement which left Aegon's mouth made Aemond choke on his spit as he stared at him wide eyed, shocked at what he had just said, “Pardon?” Aemond gazes at Aegon confusedly, and Aegon gets a thrill out of this, watching his brother be flustered.
“I said what I said, you could've just told me so, you're my brother Aemond, how do you think I will ever turn any of your requests down?” Aegon says it so casually, as if he was giving an item that belonged to him which Aemond had always wanted so badly, except you weren't an item or an object.
Aemond remains silent, unable to talk because of how baffled he was, but Aegon pressed on, “Don't you wanna feel her cunt around your cock?” This makes Aemond slam his book down and get up, and Aegon raises his hands in surrender, “It was merely an offer, I wouldn't mind sharing her with you, we've shared whores before.” Aegon tries justifying his reasoning and Aemond scoffs, “But she is no whore, she is your wife, you should treat her with respect.” he replies agitated.
“Enough with the sterness, reply plainly, do you want to fuck her or no? I won't ever bring it up ever again if you say no, we'll pretend we never had this conversation.” Aegon sighs before raising his eyebrow.
Aemond swallows thickly, should he take this chance? He always yearned for you so badly, it's like the opportunity presented itself; he could seize it, but he was in a dilemma, not wanting you to face such disrespect, your self respect will be obliterated to pieces, you'd be drowning in self shame.
You were a very dignified lady, a woman who carried herself confidently no matter what, this is why you weren't even affected when Aegon still visited the brothels. As long as the word didn't get out, you were fine with it. You simply did your duty as a wife and a mother. He couldn't imagine you allowing him to fuck you and ruin your honour.
“Decide fast brother, I have to leave soon, it's been a while since I laid with my wife, the maesters had told me to give her a break for a minimum of six weeks, yet eight weeks have passed, my cock craves her cunt so desperately.” Aegon speaks explicitly, and Aemond's breath hitches in his throat, imagining what your cunt would be like. “Then why do you visit the brothels if you seem to like her so much?” He questions, trying to change topics, “That's cause she can't satiate my depravities, otherwise I wouldn't even be visiting those wenches anymore.” Aegon talks as though it was a minor inconvenience.
“Either way, decide quickly.” Aegon urges and Aemond swallows.
He opens his mouths to reject it, but for some odd reasons his mind forms a explicit thought of burying his cock inside your cunt which causes his cock to stir slightly, the blood flowing to it at the mere thought of fucking you.
‘No Aemond, she is your sister in law, your brother's wife, you cannot let this desire succumb you.’
‘But didn't you want this for a long time? Imagine how her cunt would weep when you'd shove your cock into it hm? Her breasts bouncing up and down while you thrust into her.’
He swallows thickly, those internal arguments happening in the span of seconds before he has had enough and made up his mind.
“Yes, I want to fuck her.”
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The babe in your arms cooed as you rocked him gently — caressing his chubby cheeks with your thumb as he slowly fell asleep due to your movements, “He's cute isn't he?” You ask the servant that was in charge of him and she nodded, smiling at you.
“Yes princess, the more he grows, the more he resembles his father, Prince Aegon.” She gives her commentary and you give her a small smile and slightly nod your head. The babe finally closes its eyes, going into slumber and you chuckle at his cuteness, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead, just then, the door the nursery opens which reveals ser criston cole.
You were confused as to why the kingsguard was here himself, “Prince Aegon has sent me in search for you, he is calling you to his chambers.” Those words were enough to clarify the situation. He wanted to lay with you, “I'll be there in a minute.” you reply and he nods, you give the babe to the servant before smoothening your dress, and leaving the nursery.
You reach your martial chambers quickly, you turn around to thank Cole and dismiss him, you then open the door to the chambers and shut them just as quickly, taking a deep breath before turning around and venturing deeper into the room.
You spot Aegon sitting in his chair, but what was odd was that he was accompanied by Aemond, who you've meet occasionally and had nothing but a positive opinion on about, you were confused on what he was doing here.
Maybe Aegon did not want to lay with you? Maybe Aegon was trying to get closer to his brother for having a bond of a family? You knew how strongly bonded these brothers are, especially since after whatever happened at driftmark, so it wouldn't be weird to assume that Aegon is trying to get you and Aemond to become good friends.
“Ah, wife.” Aegon gets up from his chair, coming over to hug you, and you return it awkwardly, knowing that Aemond is in the same room, Aegon chuckles at your awkwardness. He quickly gets behind you, pushing you forward until you're right in front of Aemond who stares at you from below, all the while Aegon nuzzles his face into your neck.
You're confused not knowing what's happening, “Brother, undo her front laces.” Aegon commands and you furrow your brows immediately, baffled at how Aegon was behaving, perhaps he had drunk too much? You felt bad for Aemond, probably stuck in this unwanted situation, you try to give him an escape route but you are surprised when his warm knuckles graze against your collarbones as his fingers hook underneath your laces, beginning to pull them apart.
You were perplexed by his actions, not knowing what to do, you grip his arm from further undoing the laces but Aegon forcefully pulls your hands back, holding both of them behind you as Aemond pulls off the corset.
You were wearing a dress with no sleeves, but that did not mean you went completely shoulderless, your shift and chemise beneath you acted as the sleeve’s replacement, so when Aemond undoes the laces that were holding your long gown up, it immediately plummets to the floor, leaving you in your chemise.
Aegon nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck from behind, taking in your scent while placing small kisses on your shoulder, still not letting go of your hands, “Darling, I hope you don't mind Aemond joining us today, he had admitted to me that he fancies you, and as his older brother, it is in my responsibility that i take care of my brothers needs.” Aegon coos into your ear and you bite your lip, you are about to respond but you are interrupted by your own gasp when you feel Aemond caress your breasts, squeezing the flesh and playing with them.
“I'm afraid— I don't understand?.” You reply confusedly, staring at Aemond play with the mounds of your breasts, and Aegon chuckles into your ear pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, “I'm simply allowing him to wet his dick inside your cunt.” Aegon puts it plainly, making you bite your lip in shame; all the while Aemond's hand slowly travels up your thigh, underneath your chemise, before it disappears inside; reaching your core.
You squeal when you feel him pinch your clit before he stroked small circles onto it.
“W-why?” You question, trying to free your hands from Aegon's grip but he doesn't budge, but instead watches with amusement as his brother's hand brings out such reactions from you, you whimper as Aemond's finger travels down your slit and to your opening.
“It's my duty as his older brother.” Aegon replies nonchalantly, Aegon loosens his grip momentarily, changing his grip so he can hold both of your hands in one of his. His free hand lifts your chemise up, as he peeks from over your shoulder to see what his brother's hand was doing to your cunt, he chuckles mockingly when he sees your juices dripping from in between your legs.
“Look at her leaking yeah? Her cunt is literally weeping.” Aegon comments and you clench your eyes shut because of the humiliation you are feeling, your husband is parading you out like a whore for his younger brother, and Aemond— whom you've thought of so highly— is letting this happen while participating in the act.
You gasp when you feel one of Aemond's finger enter you, your walls tightly clamping around his finger which makes him grunt, “Fuck you're squeezing my fingers.” He breathlessly says. Aemond suckles on your neck, biting your sensitive spot which makes you whimper. Aegon finally lets go of your hands and then holds you by your waist before rubbing his cock against your ass.
Aemond's finger trail over the spongy spot inside of you, that makes you let out a moan and he takes note of this and presses against that area that causes you to tremble in pleasure, your hands fly up to his shoulders to balance yourself, though you knew you wouldn't fall, Aegon was holding from behind after all.
You were trapped between these two men, both of them peppering kisses on the opposite sides of your neck making you feel dizzy so you rest your head on Aegon’s shoulder, revealing more of your neck for the men to claim.
Aemond adds another finger inside you, stretching you out whilst providing you pleasure, his fingers skillfully grazing your spongy spot, constantly hitting it with precision.
You didn't even feel your peak approaching; it was ripped out of you so suddenly, you let out a loud moan of Aemond's name, clenching onto his shoulders extremely tightly, tears streaming down your cheeks at the intensity of your peak. Aegon's warm tongue glides over your face, collecting your tears on his tongue and licking at them.
You feel Aemond pull his fingers out of you, and you watch with hooded eyes as he puts them in his mouth, licking your essence up before he hums in delight, before pressing a kiss to your lips, making you taste yourself.
You are surprised when you are pulled away from him by Aegon, he lifts you up hurriedly and carries you over to the bed before harshly throwing you on it, he is quick to undress, taking off his breeches and undergarments, getting completely naked and harshly grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed.
His hands rip apart your chemise in a hurry, before he forcefully spreads apart your legs and positions himself in between, he gives you no warning before roughly shoving himself inside you, that make you slightly shriek in pain but eventually the pain fades, he moves in and out of you fast paced, ramming into your hole with such an intensity that it has you seeing stars.
“Are you jealous?” Aemond taunts Aegon and Aegon rolls his eyes, “No, I just couldn't hold back anymore, I've missed her cunt so much.” He replies to the taunt and Aemond chuckles, undoing his own breeches, freeing his cock from its confines. “Can I use her mouth?” He asks Aegon and Aegon grunts, “Do whatever the fuck you want with her.” he thrusts brutally into you.
You feel the space next to your head sink and you look over slightly only to be face to face with Aemond's cock, it forms a shadow over your face under the candle lights, you gasp when you see it physically throb. You've never seen that before.
He uses that slight opening as a chance, hooking his thumb in your mouth and spreading your mouth open before pushing his cock inside your mouth, you are taken aback by this and try to pull away but Aemond holds your head in place before shoving himself inside your mouth further, his tip caresses the back of your throat, which makes you gag on his cock, but that only further provides additional pleasure as he groans.
“Seven hells—” Aemond grumbles, his hand hold your hand as he thrusts into your mouth, thumb caressing the outline of his cock that forms in your throat when he pushes as the way, your eyes well up with tears and soon you're panting for air that makes you involuntarily suck on his cock, Aegon's thrusts from downwards make your body jolt upwards, taking more of Aemond's cock.
Aemond suddenly pulls out which makes you suck a sharp breath automatically, “Easy there sweetheart.” Aemond coos and you pant heavily staring at him with doe eyes, “I'll shove it once again alright? Breathe— through your nose— fuckkk.” Aemond instructs as he shoves his dick inside your mouth again, but this time you're prepared so you follow his instructions.
You hollow your cheeks which makes him grunt in satisfaction, “Good girl.” Aemond compliments you, which causes your cunt to clench around Aegon's cock, to which he responds by a chuckle, “Guess she liked that brother, she's squeezing the fuck out of me.” Aegon talks to his brother and Aemond hums in response, Aegon's thrusts speed up, that constantly hit your sweet spot, he bends forwards and takes one of your breast in your mouth, suckling on the nipple and soon– beads of white droplets begin to come out, directly into his mouth that makes him suck more harshly, enjoying the taste of your sweet milk.
“She's lactating? Fuck I wanna have a taste.” Aemond moans, noticing how the milk started to drip from the sides of Aegon's mouth.
Aegon's tip constantly caresses your spongy part, which causes something to tighten in your stomach before it eventually snaps, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and choke on Aemond's dick.
The sensation of your throat tightening around his cock makes Aemond finish as well, he shoots his load down your throat which you have no option but to swallow, and soon— Aegon is finishing inside, painting your inner walls white.
He pulls out immediately after, falling forward onto you and positioning you in such a way that he is able to suckle more, Aemond joins him soon after; shuffling and turning down to take your free breast into his mouth.
You couldn't help but whine as the two brothers suckled on each of your breasts, your recent high made you even more susceptible to sensitivity, yet you couldn't help but caress their heads gently, Aemond clamped his teeth down on to your nipple hardly which made you wince; but he later soothed the area with the wetness of his tongue. Aegon on the other hand was more careful to not graze his teeth against your sensitive buds, only using his tongue and swirling it around your swollen bud.
Aemond let's go with a wet pop, cleaning up the milk and sat up straight before tugging you, this displeased Aegon who wasn't done yet, but he had to let go, Aegon watches as Aemond settles in between your legs before he crawls down, by then Aegon had already caught on to what he was doing, and assisted him by holding you against his chest, your back pressed against him tightly, meanwhile you on the other hand; had no idea what Aemond was about to do.
“Aemond what are you— huh? Ahhh!—” You ended up squealing in surprise when you felt him place his wet tongue on your clit— you tried to shut your legs from the embarrassment but Aegon held them open— so you could only watch helplessly as Aemond gave kitten licks to your clit, which undoubtedly made you feel pleasure.
He licked a long stripe from your hole to your clit before fully engulfing it in his mouth, sucking on the flesh as if he's starving, Aegon's cock is already beginning to harden again as he witnessed such a depraved act.
Aemond groaned when he felt Aegon's seed in his mouth — which he sucked out of you — but he didn't let it stop from devouring you, his tongue licked through your folds before he sucked on your clit and let go of it with a pop before repeating the motion all over again, you unknowingly pushed his face further into your cunt, which made him moan knowing how desperate you were for him, the moan caused additional vibrations which sent pleasure through your body in waves.
You rested your head on Aegon's shoulder as you watched Aemond continue his ministrations, Aegon turned your head slightly before he connected his lips with yours and you moaned into the kiss.
The familiar feeling of the tightness began to form in your stomach again and you break the kiss with Aegon and start to hump Aemond's face involuntarily; trying to just desperately reach your high.
“You're such a fucking whore do you know that? You look so desperate humping your face against his face.” Aegon coos meanly into your ear and you whine, staring at him with teary eyes and he smirks meanly, pulling your hair harshly, “Whore.” He degrades you and your bottom lips tremble as you are about to start crying, but you aren't able to when your peak hits you at the same moment, making you moan in pleasure instead.
Aegon mockingly smiles at you, “Here I thought that you were a prim and proper lady, hell— you don't even let me do these things to you, but maybe my judgement was wrong, maybe you're a whore from the silk street disguised as a lady.” He accuses you meanly, you shake your head no at his accusation while trying to calm down from your high.
Aemond doesn't say anything to that, but simply sits up, and shifts positions once again, pulling you off Aegon and onto his lap instead, you cry onto his shoulders and he simply coos at you, he caresses your hair to calm you down, “Goodness brother, you've made her cry.” Aemond sneers at Aegon who just shrugs his shoulders. “I've only stated what I've observed.” He replies and you whimper.
“All of that aside— do you think she can take us both? In one hole.” Aegon speaks before Aemond could come up with a response and you furrow your brows, and Aemond is lost deep in thought, “We'll have to test it out.” Aemond responds and you push back, immediately staring at him wide eyes but Aemond just pecks your lips.
He lays down, taking you along with him, one hand holding you against him while the other is grabbing your hips and sinking you down on his boner, you bite your lip at the delicious stretch, you're in a position where Aegon can clearly see your pussy stretching around Aemond's cock. Aegon straddles Aemond's knees and lines his cock against your entrance and you turn your head back to see what he was doing, his cock bumped with Aemond's before he found a slight opening to shove his cock into the same hole. “Ah—!” You let out a squeal from pain as you feel his tip intruding and stretching you far than you're capable of taking.
Aegon grows frustrated, not being able to enter his cock fully inside you as your walls clamp down, resisting furthermore intrudence, however that only makes Aemond's pleasure elevate as your walls squeeze him tightly.
“Fuck this, I'm taking her from the rear.” Aegon gives up pushing his cock inside you, you gasp when you feel his thumb poking and pushing inside your puckered hole on your behind. You cover your face with your hands ashamed but Aemond pulls them away before crunching upwards to kiss you on the lips.
Aegon collects your wetness that's dripping from your cunt and smears it on your slightly stretched out hole before doing the same with his cock and lining the tip with the entrance and slowly pushing it inside.
“Ahh— Aegon— wait– I don't think— hgh!” You squeal once his fully settles inside you, and you couldn't help but tremble from the burn of the stretch as he slowly started to move, tears streamed down your face when you felt Aemond move too.
You were feeling highly humiliated, how your dignity has now been sullied, though this encounter wouldn't get out; you knew you wouldn't be able to see Aemond in the same light again, you'd always think about this day whenever you'd encounter him, a dirty little secret you'll have to keep hidden from the realm.
You are pulled from your thoughts with a sharp thrust from both of them penetrating you, you couldn't stop it but moans slipped from your mouth like prayers, you gasped and choked while calling out their names, the position; the act; the pleasure and humiliation you were feeling all combined made you feel hot, and to your horror, the pain began to subside leading you to enjoy this act.
You clinged onto Aemond as the brothers both rammed into you at such a fast pace that made you see stars, you clenched your eyes shut at the new sensations they were making you feel, and soon you're moving in rhythm along with them.
“Fuck fuck fuck I'm gonna cum.” Aegon grunts, his thrusts eventually becoming sloppy, “Me too.” You tell him and Aemond takes that as a cue to thrust faster into you, his hips ramming against you, the sound of flesh slapping rapidly fills the room.
Once again, you're blinded by the pleasure that was ripped from you, you came with a loud moan just as simultaneously as Aegon did, he pulled out and came on your back, he couldn't help but watch in awe as his seed dripped down onto your ass cheeks.
Aemond's pace became slow and messy, indicating that he was near too, “I'm gonna cum inside you, get you pregnant alright? This time you'll carry my child, not Aegon's. I'll make sure of it.” He grunts out mindlessly, pressing you down tightly to his chest, and Aegon just snickers. “Only time will tell, Brother.” Aegon replies snarky.
And with that, Aemond finishes inside you, shooting his seed far up into your walls, and you just nod silently, processing his words, his grip loosens after he finishes you fall off him and onto the bed, and soon Aegon collapses tiredly as well.
You hoped silently, that this would be the last of it, and that you'll not have to do this again, though it was enjoyable— it was humiliating, you were not that kind of lady that indulges in such depravity, maybe you'll be able to forget this and move on as if it never happened.
You prayed to the gods desperately.
But the gods are cruel.
Such encounters became frequent, Aegon and Aemond were enjoying it too much to stop, and soon you eventually got used to the routine, yet you couldn't help but feel guilty when you'd go to the sept with Alicent, when she prays that Aemond can find a good match, when she talks about the proposals that came for Aemond to you, unbeknownst to the fact that her son was constantly fucking you and was way too obsessed with you to let go of you and marry another woman.
He'd began fuck you without Aegon being involved and when you told Aegon about it, he simply shrugged furthermore simply allowing him to do so, telling you that it was his duty as a brother to let Aemond have the things he wants, the very same excuse he used during the first time.
“So, what do you think about Floris Baratheon? Do you think she's a good match for you?” Alicents voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you stare at her, who is addressing Aemond, who seemed to be as disinterested as ever.
“She's decent.” He replies shortly before he turns his gaze to you, and you immediately avoid it, staring at Alicent instead who sighs in annoyance, soon; the feeling of stickiness between your legs—which you've tried to ignore— becomes more imminent the longer he stares at you.
And guilt overwhelms you, you didn't know why you were even joining this meeting with Alicent, you –infact– hated it, knowing that moments prior to this, you were fucking Aemond in the secret hallways of the keep.
And that his seed was currently dripping out of you.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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targaryen-dynasty · 1 month
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ENCOURAGEMENT.
Daemon Targaryen x little sister!Reader
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It's 105 AC. Your brother, King Viserys, wants to throw a feast in honor to announce his wife's pregnancy. You want to attend—if it weren't for the rising doubts about your changing body. But it's good your husband knows a way to ease your worries.
WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; canon typical incest/targcest (brother & sister), mirror sex, vaginal fingering, praise kink, female and pregnant reader, lactation, lactation kink, nipple play
WORDS: 2.5 K
NOTES: Thank you for betaing this sweet thing, @happilyhertale! 🤍
❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
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Frustration brings you to the point you stand completely bare in front of the large mirror that’s been brought into your chambers by the servants, looking at your reflection. To the right hangs a black gown, and to the left a more reddish one. And neither of the two will fit over your swollen curves, you just know by looking at it.
You’ve scared off your ladies-in-waiting a few minutes ago, usually soft-spoken you experiencing an emotional outburst that just called for you to be left alone.
Nearing the six moon mark of your first pregnancy has left your body with scars and marks around your rounded belly and swollen breasts, some even teetering down the insides of your thighs. And yet, when you look at your husband strolling into your martial chambers with not more than a large cloth hanging around his hips, his scarred chest on full display, you can only admire him for wearing them with so much confidence.
But not even your own doubts can stop your eyes from stealing glances, his toned physique managing to put your mind at ease for once. Trailing your eyes over the expanse of his scarred chest down to the dark trail of hair that ends deep below the cloth that conceals most of it. However, it only poorly hides the way his half-hard member prods against the linen with each step he makes towards you.
He makes no secret out of the way his lilac eyes all but devour your body and its curves, although your belly is not yet as swollen as Aemma’s was when she was with Rhaenyra. The pregnancy has made you even more of a woman, and knowing he’s the one responsible for it makes him feel proud but also quite possessive.
“What is it?” he asks, his gravelly voice sending a chill down your spine.
Daemon eventually comes to a stop with his tall frame looming over yours from behind, fingers trailing over your side in an uncharacteristically tender and gentle manner. Every inch of your reflection is devoured by his greedy eyes. “We do not have to attend the feast, you know,” he says. “I wouldn’t dream of depriving myself of the pleasure of spending time with my wife.”
As he bows his head forward to press his lips to your shoulder, the soft strands of his silver hair tickle your skin, making you lean into his embrace and him reaching around you to splay a hand over your swollen belly.
“But I want to go. It’s the feast in honor of the queen announcing her pregnancy, and our brother will be cross with us if we do not attend,” you pout at him. “I just… I just don’t know which dress to choose.”
Daemon, however, knows full well that you’re being less than honest with him about your reluctance to go to the feast, becoming obvious when he starts to trace his fingers over the marks running across the underside of your bump. “That truly is a conundrum,” he says.
Sighing loudly, you try to escape his fingers by leaning further against him. But the friction your rear causes against the cloth is enough to loosen its tie, allowing it to fall to the ground.
The both of you are completely bare now, and he wastes no time in pressing his hard cock snugly into the crevice of your arse, making his desire for you more than clear.
“Let us forget the dresses for now. You know you’ll look ravishing no matter what you wear,” Daemon drawls, running a hand along your side. “Besides, why not allow me to appreciate every inch of you… no dresses involved.”
It sounds far too tempting… if you were in the mood. But with you struggling with your changing body for quite some time now, the thought of unraveling for him discourages you even more. “We do not have time,” you try to protest.
Much to your surprise, your usually insolent husband listens to your words.
“I think you’ll find that we have plenty of time, my love,” he mumbles, taking a step back with his hands raised in defeat. “The time we spend together would be much better than the time spent amongst a bunch of prudes at a feast.”
Not paying a mind to his words, you just nod appreciatively, and bring your attention back to the two gowns still hanging next to the mirror. Perhaps you can make the black one work with the laces tied extra loosely, and you only present at the feast for no longer than two hours.
Daemon stalks around you to stand next to the mirror, shamelessly dragging his eyes over your naked form and watching you inspect one of the dresses.
“Do you not have to dress yourself, husband?” you ask, pinching the fabric of the black dress between your fingers, trying not to pay too much attention to him. But his gaze is intense, burning straight through your skin, and making your body heat up.
You meet his eyes, cocking an eyebrow.
“There is a more important matter for me to tend to,” he objects.
“What are you–” you’re interrupted when your husband grabs the sides of the mirror and hoists it up, bringing it closer to your marital bed.
Turning on your heels, you watch him adjust it and eventually sit down on the bed with both feet planted firmly on the ground. The confusion must be evident on your features, because without a question uttered, Daemon pats his sturdy thigh and parts his legs, silently beckoning you over with a come-hither motion of his fingers.
The sight alone is alluring, his thick cock resting hard and heavy between his thighs, covered in an angry red and aching to be buried inside of you. But wanting to find out what he’s in mind is what brings you closer to him.
You move to climb his lap, wanting to sit astride him like you sit on Silverwing, but Daemon beats you to it. He scoots back slightly and brings his paws to your hips, turning you around. He pulls you back to sit down in the space between his parted legs.
When his hands hook beneath your knees to drape them over his thighs, inevitably exposing yourself to him, you instinctively lean back against him to adjust to the position.
You want to squeeze your thighs together, to hide from him, but his legs stop you from doing so. He brings a hand up to cup your full breast, squeezing lightly and testing the weight and shape of it. They’re full of milk by now, providing for your unborn child, and hard and heavy to the touch.
Pressing his lips to the curve of your shoulder, you tilt your head to the side, not daring to watch your fully exposed reflection in the mirror. You’ve been bare around him the whole time, and he’s fucked you in ways that would bring a blush to certain people’s faces, but something in the current position and your growing insecurities makes you more vulnerable right now.
Daemon adjusts his fingers so that your taut bud pops up between them, and just a bit of pressure is already enough to coax droplets of your milk to spill from it. Your breathing grows heavy, more so because it’s already enough friction to ease some of the tormenting tension.
“I want to see you full and lovely and large, swollen with my seed and carrying my child,” he mutters against your skin. His other hand comes up to cup your chin, pushing your head forwards to all but force you to look at yourself. “And I want you to watch as I worship that precious body of yours.”
The hand on your chin settles at your throat, not squeezing it but tight enough for it to be a warning for you not to move. The other hand releases your breast and trails down to the apex of your legs. It all happens agonizingly slowly, tracing and following every scar that runs along the curve of your bump, until it finally finds your cunt.
As his fingers drag through it, even your husband can’t seem to stop himself from moaning. “You’re weeping for me, my love,” he rasps, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. “So beautiful.” Withdrawing his fingers, they’re glistening with your arousal, connected by faint strings of it as he spreads his fingers.
You whimper, and dip your head back far enough for him to capture your lips. The kiss is sloppy, matching the rhythm he sets up as his fingers trace your cunt.
Daemon hums in approval as you pull away from him to look into the mirror, watching the exact moment his deft fingers ease into you. You gasp at the motion, and put all your weight back against him, melting into his embrace with his muscular arms around you.
There’s a pout on your lips when the pressure of his fingers leaves you again, used to spread apart your folds instead. In the reflection you see his dark blown eyes fixed on nothing else than what lies between your legs, his hard cock throbbing against your lower back as you clench around nothing. “Look how beautiful you look all spread out and ready for me, my love.”
Trying to squeeze your thighs shut, his hand comes from your throat to clasp around one, keeping you spread open for him. “Oh, don’t you dare,” he warns, causing a shiver to run down your spine.
With the heel of his hand pressing snugly against your pearl now, you can’t help but whimper as his fingers enter you again. The pace is slow and languid, making clear that neither of you is in a hurry tonight. It’s all about you.
“Seven hells, just look at you,” he coos against the side of your face, tip of his nose nudging your cheek. He clearly enjoys the confidence you slowly start to muster as his praises go straight to your head, coaxing you to rock your hips against his hand. “You truly have no idea of how much I desire you. Always.”
His words bring another wave of crimson to your cheeks, running down your neck and chest. It’s heaving with all the heavy breaths you inhale, and your taut buds have not softened since he touched them. If everything, his words and gestures have coaxed a few beads of milk to ooze from both, running down the curve of your breasts.
Reaching behind you, your hand rests at the back of his head, entangling into his long, silver hair. “Daemon–” you whimper, but he’s quick to silence you.
“Shush now,” he rasps. “Just enjoy and observe.”
And you certainly do, watching his fingers pump in and out of you as if it’s the most enthralling thing you’ve ever seen.
When he’s sure you’ll keep your legs spread for him, he brings his hand to your full breast again, groping and squeezing it, pinching the little bud to tease even more milk to spill from it.
It’s so much coming together at once. His praise goes straight to your head, making it hazy and longing for more, while liquid fire courses through your veins, ignited by the skilled ministrations of his fingers.
Daemon seems to sense your impending peak, and is determined to work you toward the sweet relief you so desperately crave.
The pace of his fingers increases now, fingers repeatedly brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision blurry. Pleasure soars through your body, and eventually is enough to snap the familiar knot inside of your belly. And that’s also the moment you can’t watch yourself any longer. The pleasure grows to the point you have to close your eyes to be able to thoroughly enjoy it. But your husband doesn’t seem to mind.
“There you go,” he coos, not slowing down the pace of his hands. “Such a good girl.”
Your walls convulse all over Daemon’s fingers, and with you releasing the sweetest and most desperate sounds your husband has heard in a while, he’s sure he could’ve peaked on spot, more so with the vice-like grip you have on his long hair.
His hand works you through the waves of euphoria, just slightly slowing down, and while your mind doesn’t process some of the praises he mumbles against your skin, your body does; with a renewed wave of arousal dripping out of your cunt.
It’s surprising that the pleasure doesn’t get replaced by overstimulation, especially with just how little time he gives you to recover until he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you at a harsher pace again.
“Gods be good,” you whimper, tipping your head back against his shoulder. Your hand releases his hair and instead you grab his forearm with both, clinging onto it for dear life.
“One more for me, you’re doing so good.”
You have barely time to process the first peak and its repercussions when the second washes over you in an ambush, striking you like lightning. It’s not as intense as the first, but prolonged with his other hand now frantically rubbing your pearl.
“Shh, just let it happen,” he purrs, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek as you struggle against him.
It takes just a few more pumps of his hand until the pleasure subsides, only leaving a wave of bliss in its wake. Daemon’s hands both stop their ministrations, and you finally feel as though you’re able to breathe again.
As you open your eyes, you see him lick the remnants of your arousal off his fingers, before they tease your buds again, gathering some of your milk to lick off of them as well.
Whimpering and whining at the touch, you just slowly catch your breath. He soothes you by snaking both arms around your form, cupping your swollen belly, and presses gentle kisses to the side of your face.
“You’re an absolute vision in this state, and I do not wish for you to ever doubt that,” he mutters against your skin. “You look more desirable carrying my child, than any other woman does in their most provocative dress.”
Releasing a soft chuckle, you turn your head and capture his lips with yours. A chaste peck is not what he has anticipated, but he’s still happy that he was able to lift your spirits.
“Kirimvose, ñuha jorrāelagon,” you whisper. “Care to help me with the black dress?” Thank you, my love.
“Oh, I will,” Daemon says with a teasing lilt in his voice. He grabs you by the waist and carefully hoists you up, but when he lies you down on your back, you know you won’t be getting into the dress so soon. “But I think I need just a little more time to get fully into the spirit of the occasion.”
The moment he climbs on the bed to kiss his way over your marks and curves, you squeal and squirm, entangling your hands into his hair again.
Viserys can never be angry with you two for long anyway.
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princessbellecerise · 4 months
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Dear Husband
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──── ✧*・゚*✭˚・゚✧ ────
summary | It’s been a month since you’ve been wedded to Prince Aemond and he has yet to consummate your marriage. Fed up with waiting, you seek him out and prepare to seduce your own husband
warnings | arranged marriage, smut, oral sex, soft!aemond
this is an eighteen plus fic. minors please do not enter
divider by @princessbellecerise
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Before you got married, you never once thought that you’d have to seduce your own husband. You were always taught that men were…lustful creatures and that your husband wouldn’t be able to resist the touch of a woman.
You were told that most men couldn’t keep their hands off of their new brides, so when a month went by and Aemond still hadn’t…performed his martial duties with you, you started to wonder if perhaps your husband was broken.
Prince Aemond hadn’t touched you since the day you were married, and it had been your hand that he had touched, not your body.
After the great feast that was held by King Viserys, instead of having a bedding ceremony like most brides, you spent the night alone and wondering if perhaps your husband hated you.
Of course, you knew it was ridiculous to think that since Aemond had never once been rude to you, or anything less than civil. He always escorted you when he needed to, bid you good morning like he should, but he never, ever did anything more.
Your relationship was odd and not at all what you imagined marriage to be like. You had expected and prepared yourself to not even leave your chambers for the first week of marriage, but all you did was spend time alone when you should’ve been with your husband.
You didn’t like that.
You didn’t like the fact that you were still a maiden and though you told yourself that you wouldn’t push, that you would give Aemond time to come to you and seek out your pleasure, you were fed up.
You just couldn’t wait anymore, so alas, there you were, standing outside of the chambers that your husband slept in away from you and dressed in your most revealing nightgown.
Originally it had been made for your wedding night, but since you had never officially consummated your marriage with Aemond it had been left untouched; just like you.
You were untouched and quite frankly you were sick of it. You wanted your husband; you wanted to lay with him like everyone said you would. You wanted to feel yourself wrapped in his love, experience the best things marriage that had to offer. You wanted him, Aemond Targaryen, first of his name. And tonight, you were going to get him.
Hesitatingly, you lifted your fingers rap on his door and you were grateful that no guards were present to witness this affair. After all, it was well known that Prince Aemond was more than capable of protecting himself. Another trait you admired about your lord husband, another thing that lead you towards loving him, lusting for him.
You just hoped that he felt the same, and that you wouldn’t make a fool of yourself. After all, you were going off of the assumption that he did want to lay with you. But what if that wasn’t the case at all?
What if Aemond simply didn’t want you? What if he stayed away on purpose?
What if—?
Your rambling thoughts were suddenly cut off by the magnificent wooden door swinging open, revealing your lord husband who, in all his glory, was only dressed in his night clothes.
If you had to guess, he wasn’t asleep seeing how quickly he answered the door but you were starting to wish that he was, so you might’ve had a chance to talk yourself out of this.
The cool breeze of the castle made the very hair on the back of your neck stand up, and suddenly you felt utterly ridiculous as you stood in front of Aemond, whose eye went wide as he saw you.
Slightly, the prince’s jaw dropped and you stuttered as you struggled to find some kind of explanation for yourself.
“M-My Prince…I…” The words died on your tongue as quickly as they came, your nerves making it impossible to speak. Your throat went dry and your body went numb, your heart feeling like it was about to beat out of your chest.
You could barely contain your breathing as the prince visibly staggered back, his throat bobbing as he quickly looked around.
“My lady, what are you doing? You should not be out at this time of night, dressed in this kind of attire,” He quickly scolded you, and before you could stutter out any more words you were suddenly yanked into his chambers.
Yelping, you were shocked as Aemond closed the door behind the two of you, trapping you in his warm room which had a fire raging.
It was the first time you had ever been inside of his chambers, and it was not what you expected. For starters it was warm, the complete opposite of his demeanor and it was surprisingly colorful. The roaring fire lit up the relatively large room and it showcased all of his trinkets which showed you glimpses of who he really was.
If you weren’t so nervous, you might’ve admired his room and pointed out some of the things that you had in common. Like the books he had stacked on his end table, but at the moment that was last thing on your mind as you stood in front of your husband.
Nervously, your hands clasped together and you picked at the skin on your fingernails as you looked at him.
“Have you gone mad?” He questioned you, “Why on earth are you roaming around, wearing…that.”
He could hardly find it in himself to look at you as you quickly wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling foolish for even thinking of this idea. You wished you had just stayed in bed and went through with your original plan—wait for him to approach you, if he did at all.
It would’ve saved you a lot of embarrassment and possibly rejection. You couldn’t tell what your husband was thinking because he wouldn’t look at you, but your anxiety told you that it was nothing good.
“My prince, I…I’m so sorry. I don’t what I was thinking, I just—”
“You just what?” Your husband questioned you sharply, and you flinched at the harsh tone of his voice. Lowering your head, you bit your lip, and silently you willed yourself not to cry.
“I…” What were you to say? Oh, I’m very sorry my husband, but I just came here to seduce you since you haven’t done it yet.
No.
You would sound beyond stupid and you didn’t feel like humiliating yourself even further. Standing in front of him with his sharp gaze on you was enough. You felt exposed, and you wanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow you whole. You hoped that if you stayed quiet Aemond would just let this whole thing go and forget it ever happened. Forget you ever even came to him, but judging from the way he was staring you down, you knew that wasn’t possible.
Instinctively, you stepped back and you felt intimidated as his tall frame hovered over you. His slender face was twisted in an unreadable emotion, his lips pursed. He finally decided to look at you and it caused shockwaves to travel through you body due to the look in his eye.
“What? Who exactly did you put this on for, wife?” Aemond asked suspiciously, and you gulped as you met his eye.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that your husband was jealous by the way he was speaking. His demeanor definitely showed it, with his arms crossed and his eye narrowed at you.
You shifted uncomfortably as your heart pounded.
“Well?” Aemond asked, and you knew that you had no choice but to confess, lest you brung out a side of him that you most definitely did not want to see.
“I…” Just spit it out, Y/N! Your brain screamed at you. You took a deep breath. “I wore it for you, your grace,” You finally confessed, and you knew there was no turning back as you continued. “I…I noticed that you have not…visited me like a husband should, and I was wondering if maybe it was because you were…shy. I just wanted to do something to catch your attention, husband, but I see now that it will result in nothing more than my humiliation so I will go and—”
“Wait!”
You froze with your back turned to him, preparing to haul tail and book it back to your chambers. With shameful tears in your eyes, your hand had already touched the door and you were preparing to leave until you heard his voice.
Pausing, you couldn’t believe what was happening as Aemond slowly came to stand behind you, sliding his large hand over yours to stop you from leaving.
The heat from his body could be felt with how close he was standing, and you shivered as your whole body lit up and froze.
“Not so fast, wife,” Aemond whispered in your ear, and suddenly you gasped as you were turned halfway around and then backed against the door.
Instantly, your eyes met those of your husband’s, your lips parting as curiosity and fire filled your veins.
Aemond stared down at you with a look that you couldn’t quite understand, but what you did know was that he had never looked at you like that before.
It made your heart pound to see the intensity in his gaze. His one eye was focused on you and his soft, pink lips were pursed before finally, they curved into a smirk. You could’ve sworn that you were dreaming as your husband leaned in, and something inside of you fluttered at his proximity.
“You wore this…for me?” His deep voice caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach, and you nodded, unable to speak.
Your breath was caught in your throat as Aemond smirked, and the feeling of him pressing against you intensified.
Slowly, you felt cold hands hook around your waist and tug until you were fully facing him. Your faces were closer than they had ever been before, and you were able to see your husband in full now.
You studied his face and you noticed that a new look had taken over. At first, Aemond had looked at you with apprehension; caution. He wasn’t nearly as relaxed as he was now, but dare you say it—your husband actually looked excited.
The sly smile that had grown on his face put you more at ease, and you made no move to push him away as his hands lingered.
Looking into his eyes, you bit your lip and tilted your head.
“Do you like it, my prince?” You asked him, barely above a whisper. A slight burst of energy led you to puff your chest out, coyly looking at Aemond as he observed the fabric.
It was supposed to be worn on your wedding night but because nothing had happened, the white fabric was in prestige condition and it barely covered everything it needed to. You knew the answer of your question just by the look that grew in Aemond’s eye, but for what it was worth, he answered.
“Yes. It is quite pretty, Princess,” He complimented. And then a smirk grew on his pale face. Leaning in, you shivered as Aemond’s lips came to your ear, and then he whispered words you never thought you’d hear. “But I’d prefer to see it off, if I am to be honest.”
A gasp left your lips as Aemond suddenly pulled away, and you didn’t have time to think before Prince’s lips were on yours.
He swallowed the surprised noise that left your throat, hooking his finger under your jaw to give him a better angle of your lips.
They were soft, untouched until now and Aemond felt his cock throb at the thought that the rest of your body was, too.
You on the other hand were beyond shocked, but you had to admit that his lips tasted pretty good; addicting like wine to an alcoholic man. You felt like you couldn’t get enough as you kissed him back, deeply to the point where it shocked Aemond.
He wasn’t expecting you to behave like this, and he certainly hadn’t been expecting for his wife to come and seduce him. All this time, he thought that you’d be afraid of him but it was the opposite.
You wanted more, you wanted to be more. You wanted to be his and you weren’t afraid to show it as you pressed yourself against him.
Aemond hissed as he felt your hand accidentally brush his cock, pulling away as a hungry feeling gathered in his chest. His violet eye searched yours and all he could see was longing behind them; lust.
You wanted him and he wanted you, and the fire between the two of you grew he lightly tugged on your hand. He motioned to the bed behind him, wide and empty as he obviously wasn’t expecting a visitor.
You didn’t mind though, nodding and allowing him to pull you over to it as your mind clouded up. Suddenly, the embarrassment that you felt for coming here was replaced by relief, your shame overtaken by longing.
You couldn’t believe that your plan had actually worked, still a little bit in awe as Aemond helped you onto the big bed and gently trapped you underneath him.
His tall frame hovered over you, his knees on either side of your body. His strong hands rested just beside you, hoisting himself up while you laid propped up on your elbows.
If you didn’t know any better, he almost looked…nervous. Hesitating before he did anything else and soon you figured out why.
“Is this alright, wife?” He wanted to ask first, so gently that it made your heart melt a little bit.
He genuinely looked concerned about your well-being, hesitating before he did anything else. He was the complete opposite of his idiot brother, asking for your consent before touching you.
You often heard stories of men not even caring to ask before they laid with women. Most of them just take what they want and don’t bother for permission, is what a maid had said to you before your wedding day.
You always thought that was true until Aemond uttered the words, and you were so overcome with emotion that all you could do was nod, leaning up so that your lips could capture his once more.
This time, the kiss was more sure, steady as he moved against you and placed a gentle hand on your cheek. He laid you back so that your body was now touching his pillows, silk sheets crumbling underneath you as he followed.
Your soft body became pressed against his, and due to your nightgown Aemond could practically feel everything. Every curve, every soft patch of skin, he could feel it all and it took an incredible amount of self control for Aemond to take it slow. He had to remind himself that you were untouched, and that you required care before he did anything else.
As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just jump into it without warming you up first, so he pulled away to do just that.
A sudden whine came from your throat at the loss of contact, your arm coming out to pull him back down. You pouted, wanting to keep tasting his lips but Aemond quickly made up for it as he leaned back down and grazed his teeth over your neck.
“Not yet, wife. I have to get you warmed for me first.”
A gasp left your lips as he then kissed and licked over a spot that made you become weak in the knees. Quietly, a sound that you had never heard before left your lips and Aemond was smug as he recognized it as a moan.
You were moaning for him and he hadn’t even touched you yet, and that thought alone was enough to have him abandoning your neck and sinking lower so that he could get more out of you.
He wanted to hear that sound again, and you wanted the pleasure that made you make that sound. When Aemond sank down lower and lower you watched with wide eyes, not quite knowing what he was doing but trusting him.
You trusted your husband enough to stay quiet when he tugged on your nightgown, only nodding at him again to let him know that it was okay to pull it down.
When he did, you swore that you stopped breathing as your cunt was exposed to the warm air. Instinctively, you became shy and tried to close your legs but Aemond’s strong arms stopped you.
He held your legs open and shook his head. Gently, he ran his fingers over your hips which made you shiver. The feeling of his touch set your skin on fire, and as Aemond muttered his next words you melted even further.
“Do not hide from me, Issa jorrāelagon. You are beautiful,” He said something in his native language, and it was only because you’d heard it before did you know what it meant.
My love is what the Valerian words translated to, and Aemond had only ever uttered them once on your wedding day. You remembered having to memorize that exact same phrase, and when you recognized it your body instantly relaxed.
Instantly, any resolve that you had melted away and you became butter underneath Aemond. Your legs parted, your nerves relaxed, and you allowed him to dip his head down between your legs.
Before you even knew what was happening, your husband’s tongue darted out to taste your cunt. The action caused you to gasp and Aemond to moan, relishing in your sweet taste before diving back in.
He wanted more, so he licked another stripe and relished in the way your back arched off of the bed. A moan left your lips as he did it again, Aemond pleasing you in a way you’d never experienced before.
Even your own fingers couldn’t make you feel this good. His tongue was pure bliss, making you see stars as you whimpered underneath him.
Instinctively, your hands reached down to tangle in his hair as he teased your pearl. When his teeth lightly grazed over it, you moaned and accidentally pulled causing Aemond to groan.
The vibrations against your cunt pared with the assault on your clit nearly sent you over the edge, a pant leaving your lips as pressure built in the pit of your stomach.
You felt like you were about burst with Aemond’s mouth on you, and soon your vision went blank as the dam burst and your peak washed over you like violent waves during a storm.
You screamed out Aemond’s name as waves of pleasure washed through you, and Aemond chuckled against your cunt, making sure that he gathered every drop of your spend before lifting himself from in between your legs.
Your body was still shaking as he came to hover over you, and in a sudden heated kiss you could taste yourself on Aemond’s lips.
The action caused you to moan into your husband’s mouth, grabbing onto his shoulders as he steadied himself. One of his hands came up to cup your face while the other fumbled with his belt, loosening the material without ever breaking the kiss. You could feel him moving around and attempting to free himself from his trousers so you pulled away to help.
Hesitantly, you grabbed the waistband of the material and tugged it down whilst Aemond helped. You couldn’t lie, you were shaking and a little nervous the more they dropped, becoming intimidated by seeing him for the first time.
It certainly made your cunt throb to see his cock, your mouth watering a little as Aemond finally freed himself.
He was already erect, his cock slapping against his stomach. You made eye contact and you could see lust clouding his violet eye, the yearning that he felt.
Aemond wasn’t one to show his emotions often, if at all, but right now you felt like you could see him. You could see every emotion that he possessed, feel him as he leaned down to connect your lips once again.
You had never been this close to anyone before and you relished in it as he positioned himself over you. As his lips moved against yours, you became eager, pulling him down so that he could line himself with your entrance.
Aemond pulled away to look at your face before he pushed himself forward. He searched for any signs of resistance or hesitation, but there was none. You were eager for you husband to move forward, eager to finally feel him like you wanted.
You were so close to getting what you came here for, but first…
You hesitantly bit your lip as your hand came up, and your heart squeezed as Aemond flinched when you touched his eye.
The one that was covered, that is, and the last piece of material that was separating the two of you.
Before you went forward with this, you wanted to see him. You wanted really see your husband and all of his beauty.
Despite what people said, you’d never been afraid of what was behind the patch. You’d never been disgusted or judgmental. You just wanted to see Aemond for who he really was, as he was about to see you.
“May I…?”
Aemond took in a sharp breath as your fingers lingered over his eyepatch, seriously debating if he should let you or not. You could see the conflict in his face, the uncertainty and you weren’t going to push. If he was uncomfortable taking it off, you’d understand, but to your surprise Aemond reached up and took it off himself.
He closed his eyes as he placed the material on his nightstand, and when he opened them one violet eye and one sapphire eye stared back at you.
Aemond lowered his head as if he were ashamed, but you quickly grabbed his face and made him look at you.
Nothing expect for love adorned your face, making sure that he knew you weren’t judging or scared. You just wanted to see him, and as you ran your fingers over his scar you only whispered one word.
“Gevie,” You told him, and Aemond chuckled as your palm stroked his cheek. He didn’t shy away from your touch and allowed you to touch him like no one ever had before. Not even his own mother had felt his scar, and now here he was, laid bare before his wife just you were bare before him.
Now, there was nothing left to separate the two of you so Aemond pushed forward.
You felt the head of his cock brush your folds and you gasped, biting your lip as he started to push through your barriers.
Your cunt wrapped around him in way that Aemond had never felt before, causing your husband to groan as he sunk into you. Briefly, you held your breath as slight pain erupted but it wasn’t too bad. Aemond was gentle, and he had made sure you were warmed up so the feeling went away almost instantly.
Still, he paused before going any further and looked at your face to make sure that you were okay.
Violet and sapphire met your (E/C) eyes, and you nodded as you slowly released your breath. Wrapping your arms around Aemond’s shoulders, you buried your head in his neck and moaned as he pushed in to the hilt.
The sound of a low groan reaching your ears caused lust to travel through your body. The thought of your husband moaning for you, because of you made your cunt even wetter and there was little to no resistance for Aemond as he began to move his hips.
Sloppily, your lips found his and your legs wrapped around his back as your body welcomed him.
Aemond wrapped his own around you, making sure to hold you tight before rocking his hips. He kept a steady pace, making sure that he wasn’t too rough which you appreciated. The pace he took allowed you feel him, relishing in the way his cock dragged along your walls.
You moaned at every stab of pleasure that you felt, enjoying the taste of Aemond’s lips as well. He tasted like the sweet wine you often saw him drink, and you couldn’t get enough like you were trying to get drunk as well.
You were trying to get drunk on him and you were, eyes rolling to the back of your head as Aemond’s cock managed to reach your sweet spot. His lips pulled away from yours so his teeth could graze your neck, and you had the pleasure of hearing his own moans spill out as he sped up.
The King sized mattress creaked under the weight of him fucking you, blending in with all of the other sweet sounds you made. Mostly, the cries that fell from your lips were Aemond’s own name, something that fueled him and drew him closer to the edge.
It felt like heaven, having your cunt wrapped him and your lips screaming his name. A few hours ago Aemond would’ve never in his wildest dreams guessed that he’d be here, pleasuring his wife he was so sure wanted nothing to do with him.
After you were forced to marry him by your father, he made a promise that he’d stay away for as long as possible. He made a promise that he’d give you your space, thinking that’s what you wanted, but now, Aemond knew that promise would go out of the window.
After tonight, he would never let you go, and you had no problem with that whatsoever.
You’d stay like this with him forever if you could, but a familiar knot in your stomach held you back and you knew that you were close to your peak, again.
You could feel it in the pit of your stomach, along with Aemond’s cock as he sped up.
Lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room, and it would’ve had you embarrassed had you not been so far gone.
With your eyes screwed shut and shameless sounds of pleasure leaving your lips, you could care less about that. The only thing you felt, the only thing you wanted to feel was Aemond and you did.
You felt his cock twitch inside of you and you knew that he was close, just like you were. His pace began to lose it’s rhythm and his grip tightened, both eyes squeezing shut as Aemond finally reached his high and spilled inside of you.
Likewise, you accidentally bit down on his shoulder and scraped your fingernails against his back as you experienced your second high, your cunt clenching down on Aemond’s cock and milking him until he was spent.
A low groan left his lips as he felt you completely fall apart on his cock, enjoying the sounds you made before you finally began to calm down.
Soft pants left your lips as Aemond remained on top of you, unmoving but careful not to crush you with his weight. Somehow, he still had the strength to prop himself up and hover over you which was a miracle because you were exhausted.
Your body ached in the most delicious of ways, your cunt throbbing and leaking with Aemond’s seed.
You knew that if you didn’t take moon tea soon then his seed would take but that was the last thing you were worried about.
You were too caught up in your own bliss, too happy as you stared at Aemond to care. You thought he looked absolutely beautiful above you, looking like the Gods people always compared the Targaryens to.
In that moment, you truly believed it to be true and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky. You wondered how you were blessed with such a man for husband that he could easily be mistaken for a God.
You wondered why the Gods chose you to marry him and silently thanked them for it.
But most of all, you wondered why in the hell you didn’t approach him sooner.
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maidragoste · 6 months
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The Decision
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Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader, minor Harwin Strong x Velaryon!Reader, Rhaenyra Targaryen x Velaryon!Reader
Again another AU with the reader of The Sea Dragon, The Clubfoot and The Green Queen (you don't need to read it to understand this one shot because this story starts LONG BEFORE the canon of that universe).
Summary: When King Viserys announces that he plans to marry you, you make a decision to avoid becoming the king's wife.
Now you can read this bonus!
TW: This is NSFW (if you don't like it you can read only the Rhaenyra and Harwin parts)
I was dying to share this with all of you so I hope you like it!
If you want to read more of this Reader and Daemon, don't hesitate to let me know in the comments or in my inbox 🤭
REBLOGS, comments and likes are always greatly appreciated 🥰🥰💖💖
Disclaimer: English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Also this is my first smut so sorry if it's weird to read.
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You felt your heart hammering as you waited for the king to make his announcement. Your stomach wouldn't stop spinning and you have no idea how you still hadn't vomited up what you had for breakfast.
With every passing second you have to keep yourself from running out of the council chambers. You couldn't stop looking at your father, a part of you wanted to take his hand and ask him to get you out of here but you didn't trust him anymore. You were in this situation because of him. You always knew that your father is a proud and ambitious man but you never thought that his ambition would be greater than his love for you. If your father really loved you he wouldn't have sent you to the king's chambers. He wouldn't have made you start wearing dresses that showed more skin for your visits with him. Gods, you wanted to hit your father so badly, you wanted to wipe the smile off his face because both he and you knew what Viserys was going to announce. Everyone knew it, you noticed that Otto Hightower was trying to hide his annoyance from everyone, the only one who seemed unaware of the tension in the room was Rhaenyra.
“I have decided to take a new wife,” the king began and you noticed how he and Rhaenyra exchanged a look. You were surprised to see your cousin nod as if she was permitting him to move on. Did Rhaenyra know? Did she approve of this? “I intend to get married,” he continued, this time looking at you and your father. You forced a smile as you dug your nails into your palms, feeling helpless for being in this situation “with Lady Y/N Velaryon before spring.”
Your eyes met Rhaenyra's purple ones. There was none of the love or fun you usually saw. Now she was looking at you with a mixture of pain and fury. The pain in your stomach got worse. Nyra had never looked at you like that. This shouldn't be happening.
It was obvious that she didn't know that her father was planning to marry you. You wanted to scream, you wanted to hug her and tell her that this wasn't what you wanted, that you weren't trying to steal her mother's place, that you would never do anything to hurt her.
"Rhaenyra" the king called her but the princess left the chambers anyway. You couldn't take this anymore so you went after her, ignoring your father's calls.
You followed the princess. You could feel the fabric of your dress sticking together due to perspiration, you didn't know if it was because of your nerves or because you were practically almost running after Rhaenyra. It was uncomfortable but right now you didn't care. You needed to clear things up with her. You couldn't stand that she hated you.
"Nyra" you called when she finally stopped. You two were in the gardens, in front of the heart tree. Where more than once you had Rhaenyra lay with her head in your lap while you sang her any song she wanted. Where you two used to stay out in the sun complaining about the septa's lessons while you combed her hair. This tree has so many good memories and now you fear there will be no more.
"How could you?!" she yelled at you furiously. She couldn't believe how you had been by her side, comforting her, accompanying her in her grief, remembering the stories the both shared with her mother so that later you went behind her back to conquer her father. When her father told her that he needed to take another wife she thought it would be Laena Velaryon. Not from you. Never from you. You were supposed to be hers.
"Please, Nyra, don't hate me" you begged and grabbed her hands desperately, pulling her closer to you "I swear I didn't want this but my father" you shook your head and forced yourself to continue talking trying to ignore the knot in your throat "I'll find a way to fix this, I promise" you kissed her hands.
The princess studied you for a few minutes. She needed to check that you weren't faking this just to avoid her anger. Your eyes seemed to be glazed over from the tears you were holding back and your hands clung to her desperately.
“I believe you,” she finally said and you sighed in relief.
"Thank you", you said with a shaking voice
This time it was Rhaenyra who kissed your hands and rested her forehead against yours. You closed your eyes feeling at peace for a moment knowing that she didn't hate you.
"I won't marry your father, Nyra. I promise."
If it weren't for the fact that she was now the heir to the throne, Rhaenyra would have told you that you would run away with her, that the two of you would go together on your dragons and travel the world together, and that you didn't need a husband, that if you wanted her, she would take you as a wife. But now she had obligations, she couldn't abandon everything for you even if her heart screamed for her to do so.
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After clearing things up with Rhaenyra you went to your chambers. Of course, your father was waiting for you, he scolded you for your abrupt departure but he left you alone once you told him that you had managed to calm the princess's annoyance. Being alone you decided to put your plan into action, first you took a bath with the purpose of relaxing and getting rid of any trace of nerves you had before, then you put on one of your simplest dresses and placed a hooded cape on top to hide your hair. You were leaving the castle and you didn't need anyone to follow you.
You successfully slipped away and headed out into the streets in search of Harwin. You knew that today he had to stand guard on the streets of Flea Bottom. A girl in your position shouldn't be here but you didn't care. You needed to talk to him as soon as possible.
“Harwin” you called him when you finally found him.
“Lady Velaryon, you should not be here,” said the guard, gently hugging you by the shoulders and taking you to a corner further away from the people.
It felt bad to hear him call you in such a formal way when for weeks he had been calling you by your name or “sunshine”, the nickname he had given you. You remember like it was yesterday when you kissed him for the first time after he explained to you that the reason he called you that was because you brightened his days every time he saw you.
This sudden formality was like a slap in the face and he confirmed what you already feared.
“You know,” you declared sadly.
“My father told me,” he admitted, releasing you. You weren't surprised since Lyonel is on the council and had been present at this morning's meeting. You suspected that Harwin's father thought it would be best for him to find out from him rather than from someone else since you were sure that Lord Strong and your parents knew about the meetings between you and Harwin. You thought it was no secret that he was courting you, but apparently, not everyone knew because otherwise, Viserys would not have chosen you as his wife. Or maybe he knew but didn't care.
“This doesn't have to change what's between us,” you said as you stood on tiptoe to have his face closer to yours. “I don't want to marry the king. I want you” you whispered against his lips but without touching them. Harwin had to control himself from closing the small distance between you and kissing you. “Make me your wife,” you asked before capturing his lips with yours.
You froze when Harwin walked away from you.
“I can't,” he whispered and closed his eyes to avoid seeing the disappointment on your face.
“I thought you loved me” In your voice there was more anger than sadness but your body language was different, you found yourself hugging yourself trying to comfort yourself. You were disappointed.
“I do,” he stated firmly, opening his eyes so you could see that he spoke sincerely. “I love you. If it were any other man he would fight for you but…”
His silence told you everything. He loved you but it's not enough to face the king.
“You're a coward,” you spat and left the way you came.
You didn't really think Harwin was a coward but you were hurt by his rejection. You felt stupid to believe that whatever Harwin felt for you would be bigger than any coherent thought but you can't blame him after all any intelligent person would be afraid to go against the king's wishes and steal his fiancée…
But all was not lost, you knew someone well who was not afraid of Viserys and could help you. It was a desperate move and your parents would think you were an idiot for this but you refuse to be the king's wife. You had seen how as the years went by and with each pregnancy, Queen Aemma deteriorated. You didn't want the same thing.
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You wrote to Daemon. You told him that the king wanted to marry you but that you were seeking to avoid this marriage and that you needed his help. You waited anxiously for his response while you had to feign excitement every time someone talked about your wedding preparations. Luckily it didn't take that long for a crow to arrive with the rogue prince's answer. There were no reassuring words in his letter, the only thing the scroll said was "Come to Dragonstone."
And that's what you did. Nobody suspected when the next day you went on the back of your dragon since everyone knew that there was not a day in which you did not disappear for a couple of hours to go flying with Nightwing.
"My prince, Lady Y/N Velaryon!" The guard announced your arrival before letting you enter the chambers where the prince was staying.
Daemon, who had seen you approach with Nightwing from the window, had his back turned but turned to look at you. He hasn't seen you in months. Your hair was longer and you seemed to have changed the way you dressed. The blue dress you were wearing seemed to have more cleavage, it wasn't anything scandalous enough for the court to talk about but it did draw attention.
"It's good to see you, Y/n" Daemon stated making you smile. You were sure that this was the first sincere smile you had given in days.
You waited for the guard to leave. Once you heard the sound of the door closing, you began to walk towards the prince without haste, trying to show as much confidence as possible. Normally you wouldn't be nervous around Daemon but you hadn't seen him in months and he was the only person who could help you. You didn't want to ruin this.
*I'm wondering the same. These months without you were boring "You weren't lying or trying to sugarcoat it to achieve your goal, it was simply the truth. Every time he leaves court you wish for his return.
"You still didn't come after me" Daemon held back his smile when he saw the surprise in your eyes.
He liked seeing that look in your eyes. Every time he brings you something new from his travels, every time he teaches you a new move in the training yard, every time he asks you for his favor in tournaments. How he had missed seeing her. He wouldn't tell you but he had missed you these past few months. So imagine his fury when after so long the first news he receives from you is that his brother plans to marry you. You are too much of a woman for Viserys. Her brother wouldn't know what to do with you. You would spend the rest of your life bored. Daemon couldn't allow it.
"I didn't know you wanted that," you said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"I invited you to go with me on my next trip, didn't I?"
Before Queen Aemma's death, when you helped Daemon put on his armor for the tournament you complained about the lengthening of his travels. The prince's response was to invite you to go with him next time. You were so excited to accompany him on his trips that you didn't wait for the tournament to end to ask your parents for permission. But then Aemma died and you didn't dare leave Rhaenyra.
You laughed. “That wasn't a trip, Daemon. Viserys exiled you.”
"And now he will exile you" he mocked, making you irritated but you quickly forgot about your irritation when Daemon placed his hands on your waist and pulled you closer to him, leaving your bodies pressed together. You should be uncomfortable with this but you're not. "You understand? Right? You know what you were asking for when you asked me for help?" He asked, studying your reaction. He needed to see that you really understood what you were about to do. This was your time to repent. But he didn't find uncertainty in your eyes if not desire, you looked at him with pure desire.
"I know," you responded, trying to ignore the flutter of emotion you felt at the intensity of the prince's gaze. You should be against doing this after all your reputation would be ruined but deep down you always wanted to have even a little bit of Daemon.
In reality, there was always a tension between the two of you. More than once you two ended your fights in the yard more irritated than you were before you started because after so much friction, touching, and sweat you both wanted to do something else that you couldn't. You didn't want to be the other woman and Daemon for once wanted to make things right with you. He hoped that one day Viserys would annul his marriage to Rhea Royce to take you as his wife. That day never came but that didn't matter anymore.
"You will take me as your second wife" While you spoke your eyes couldn't help but stop a couple of times on his lips.
Daemon tilted his head a little and gently brushed aside a strand of hair to whisper in your ear "I'll do it. If you want that" you shivered as you suddenly felt his breath on your neck. It doesn't take long for you to feel his warm lips against your skin. You unconsciously stretched your neck, leaving him free to continue spreading more kisses. With each kiss, you felt your body warmer. You can't help but wonder how his lips will feel just as good on another part of your body. “People will talk about us,” he warned, snapping you out of your fantasy.
You knew what Daemon was referring to, not only would it be a scandal if the king's fiancée married another but also if that other is Daemon Targaryen, the king's brother, and an already married man. People who don't understand his family's customs won't think your marriage is legitimate, and if you were to have children with him people would probably think of them as bastards. Also, the court could compare your marriage to one of Maegor Targaryen's many marriages. The kingdom would talk a lot about you two, even your family's name and respect could be damaged by this. Your father might never want to speak to you again in your life and your mother would be disappointed in you. You had thought about all this at night before receiving the prince's response. And yet you were determined to go ahead with this.
“Are you worried that the court will call you Second Maegor? Because I'm sorry to inform you but they already call you that” you said, managing to make Daemon laugh a little. You smiled when you heard him but your smile was soon replaced by a gasp as you felt his teeth biting into your neck.
“A wife shouldn't make fun of her husband,” he said making you roll your eyes, knowing that he wasn't serious and just wanted to mess with you. “If you marry me, this will not be just a marriage in name.”
You weren't an idiot. It wasn't enough for you to just marry Daemon. Viserys might still want to annul the marriage if he saw that you were a virgin but if it was known that Daemon had already had you then the council would tell the king that he should take another wife.
You walked away from him. “Are you afraid of taking me as your wife? You keep walking around instead of ordering them to start preparing everything for the ceremony. “The prince could see the challenge in his eyes and he loved it.” I'm not a little girl, Daemon. "I know what I'm getting into by marrying you."
And those words were enough for Daemon to finally join his lips with yours. There was nothing soft about his kiss, not like Harwin's. This kiss was hungry, you felt like he was devouring your mouth but you weren't far behind either, taking him by the neck, pulling him closer to you. It seemed as if neither of you two could get enough of the other. Finally giving free rein to the desire the both felt for a long time. You felt his hands trying to untie the back of your dress so you walked away from him with heavy breathing.
“Ah, ah, ah,” you hummed, now placing your hands on his chest, hoping to keep a little more distance. “You can't have me until we're married,” you declared, looking at him mischievously.
“You're so fucking annoying” Daemon complained and tried to kiss you again but you pulled your face away with a teasing smile. "Good. But then you won't leave the room until I'm done with you,” he warned you and he gave you a little squeeze on your waist before leaving, determined to prepare everything in the shortest possible time.
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Daemon thinks he'll never get tired of this. See how you move on his cock, how focused you look with every jump you take in search of your pleasure, how you open your mouth and let those sinful sounds escape when you finally find your sweet spot, and above all the feeling of your cunt squeezing his cock.
Hearing Daemon's groan overwhelms you. It overwhelms you because, for the first time, you realize that you have power over him. It's too much to hear him say your name like you're a god while you're riding him. See how hungry he is for you, how he can't seem to get enough of you, how he can't go a minute without his mouth on you, without biting or sucking on your neck, without having his hands touching you. By now your body was covered in hickeys, marks, and bruises leaving the trace of your crime on display. You're sure that tomorrow when the maids came to help you dress they would be horrified to see the mark of Daemon's palms on your thighs after he held you for what seemed like hours while he devoured your cunt over and over again.
Your husband noticed that you were starting to get tired but you still didn't want to stop, not when you were already so close to cumming again but you were too proud to ask him for help.
“Let me take care of it,” he said, stopping to suck on one of your nipples.
He knows how stubborn you are so he didn't even give you a chance to refuse when he lifted you off his cock. You groan against his neck as he pushes you down onto his cock again. He begins to move you up and down as if you weighed nothing.
"Faster" you demanded with heavy breathing, feeling dissatisfied with the pace of his movements.
Daemon doesn't hesitate to follow your orders and makes you bounce faster. His grunts and moans do nothing but send heat to your core. You feel your legs tremble at the speed and depth of his thrusts. You want to have your share and leave your marks on your husband too but you can't focus as much time on biting or sucking on his neck when he's fucking you so good. You sob when you finally feel the knot in your stomach release and you cum on his cock.
Suddenly one of his hands leaves your waist and pulls your hair, stealing a gasp from you, making you stop hiding your face in his neck and thus trap your mouth again in a messy kiss.
"You take me so well," Daemon gasped against your lips, feeling your warm cunt not stop squeezing his cock.
The sound of skin slapping only increases the temperature of the room. Like the groans and gasps. Neither Daemon nor you were trying to be quiet, it was more like you were both competing to see who could make the other louder. You should be embarrassed and try to be quieter, that's what a good lady would do but you couldn't care less what people thought, not when you felt so good. And while you felt how Daemon filled your cunt with his seed a petty part of you couldn't help but think that you were hoping that this would reach Viserys' ears, that one of the servants would write to the king to inform him of the spectacle you and Daemon were putting on so that Viserys wouldn't want to have anything more to do with you.
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3K notes · View notes
happilyhertale · 4 months
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Shared future, prequel – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader
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Summary: When your father told you that you were to wed your uncle, Daemon Targaryen, you didn't realise at first what wonderful moments it would bring you.
Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader
Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Fluff; Fingering
Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:
This is the prequel to my Smuff story "Shared Future"
Word count: 4.6 k
Other stories of mine
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Daemon looks up when he hears his brother's words.
He can't believe it – what he has longed for so long is about to come true?
"You want me to wed her?" he asks in disbelief.
Visery's eyes are fixed on him. Although Viserys has just announced it, Daemon gets the feeling that perhaps he didn't mean it. But then Viserys nods briefly.
"You yourself told me to find her a betrothed. That it is time to restore House Targaryen to its former strength," Viserys adds.
Daemon processes the words, but hesitates.
"You know I always desired her?" Daemon says. He doesn't know why he says it. Perhaps to annoy Viserys, or perhaps to make it clear that he really desires you.
But Viserys nods again.
"I know..." he says, "It was also the reason why I wanted to prevent you from wedding her in the first place."
Viserys just keeps talking while Daemon raises his eyebrows slightly.
"But I realised that's exactly why you would treat her best"
Daemon is silent for some time, just looking at his brother.
"You would take care of her and wouldn't let anything happen to her"
And now it's Daemon who simply nods.
Daemon leaves the council chamber – he can't believe it. Ever since you had grown into a young woman, you had attracted his attention in a different way. Rhaenyra and you are the princesses of the realm. Young and beautiful, you epitomise what House Targaryen should bring to the realm. And yet you could not be more different. Rhaenyra, wild and bold, and you, gentle and loving.
Daemon finds himself in his chambers, lost in the idea of finally calling you his.
He drinks far too much wine and his thoughts, like his eyesight, begin to blur, but he is sure of one thing. He must see you and talk to you about it. On the way to your chambers, he realises that his blood is beginning to boil at the thought that you were sitting innocently in your chambers, probably just in your nightgown.
He could just take you now. You'd fight back, he knows that. But... he wouldn't. Not yet. With each step, he grows calmer, reassuring himself with the thought that he won't have to wait much longer before you're his. Once he married you, he could claim you as his own and you would be pleased with that.
You sit on your bed and oil your skin. Your skin is still a little damp from the bath as the gentle scent of lavender envelops you while your hands glide over your legs. A soft sigh escapes you as you think about that your father announced today that you are to wed your uncle. But before you can think about it any further, you hear a knock. You look up, "Who is it?" you ask.
Daemon waits outside your door and listens to your soft voice. He can already imagine how he could elicit soft tones from you.
When he speaks, his voice is hoarse and heavy with alcohol.
"Me," he says simply.
He is taking a risk, but he knows what the answer will be.
"Uncle Daemon?" you ask, somewhat incredulously.
You pause briefly in your movements, unable to remember the last time he visited you in your chambers. Whether he ever visited you in your chambers at all.
"Don't you want to come in?" you ask before you can really think about it. Your hands push your nightgown down almost simultaneously.
Daemon grins slightly, his mouth slightly dry. The wine is working on him, putting his mind in a more daring state. He feels the effects of the heat with which his thoughts fill him.
He enters the chambers and closes the door behind him. There is only one thought in his head: to claim you. To take you. If only his brother knew he was entering your chambers at night.
You look at him with your big purple eyes as he enters.
"Are you drunk, Uncle?" you ask with a slight smile as you realise he's having trouble walking straight.
You take more oil and apply it to your calves
Daemon steps closer to you and is now standing right next to your bed. He looks down at you.
"I'm not that drunk, niece," he says quietly, and the alcohol makes him seem much bolder than he otherwise would have been. He looks at you for a moment and then frowns.
"What are you doing with the oil?" He was still watching your movements, imagining what it would look like if he did it for you, how his rough hands would glide over your soft skin... until your voice brought him back to reality.
"Well... Since father just announced that we're getting to be married, you should know," you say, and Daemon looks even more confused. Your eyes are fixed on him as you continue to oil your calves.
"I just took a bath and I oil my skin after every bath, Uncle," you say to him.
Daemon can hear the tone in your voice when you call him uncle, but he's not fazed. You would soon no longer be his niece, but his wife. His next words make his intention clear.
"Well, when you're my wife, you should let me oil your skin..." you hear his slightly slurred words.
He holds out both hands as if to take the oil from you and do it for you.
But you just laugh slightly and take the bottle of oil yourself.
"Well... I'm not your wife yet," you say, but before you can say anything else, you see Daemon stumble slightly again.
"Maybe you should lie down, Uncle?" you ask worriedly.
But Daemon doesn't want to lie down. He has to claim you, his niece. He wanted to take you right away. As he speaks, his speech becomes slurred and he stumbles slightly again, holding on to the bed.
"I'm not that drunk, niece. I won't fall over... don't worry," he mumbles.
But Daemon's mind is somewhere else, he wants to do this, to feel your skin with his hands. He comes closer and tries to snatch the bottle of oil from you again. There's nothing he wants more than to oil your skin.
As you see Daemon move to take the oil bottle from your hand, you realise he's toppling to one side. "Uncle!" you gasp and immediately get up to stop him from falling.
"Let me help you," you say and lightly grab his arm. A low grumble comes from Daemon, but he lets you lead him to the bed.
He sits down, looking almost cute, so drunk.
"Why did you drink so much?" you finally ask, curiosity getting the better of you.
Daemon lets himself fall back onto the bed and looks up at you, eyes slightly closed. He can't help but be drawn to your sweet and loving nature. But still, it's too sweet for his thoughts right now.
He has a feeling he'll regret this tomorrow, but he needs you so much. He looks into your eyes, his words are quiet and it's hard for him to say some of them.
"I want you, niece."
He just said it. No hesitation. No trying to convince you with honeyed words or sweet talk. Just the cold, hard truth. He wants you.
You smile, but you lean slightly towards him. Your hand glides to his cheek, caressing it gently.
"I know... The whispers in the corridors have always made it clear," you say softly. As Daemon internalises your words, his eyes grow wide. You know it?
You just smile and walk around the bed to sit next to him on the bed.
"Is that why you've been drinking?" you ask as you drop onto the bed.
He closes his eyes briefly and nods his head. His voice is still soft.
"I've been drinking because I want to be brave enough to say what I feel"
At the moment, he is finding it difficult to keep his tone calm and not choke on his words.
"I want you." he repeats his words.
He is almost embarrassed to ask this question because he fears how much you would hate him for it, but he has to do it anyway. He opens his eyes with great force and looks at you - "Do you want me as well?"
As these words echo in your room, your breath catches for a moment. You don't know if you want him. What does that even mean... But you smile slightly. Your brave and feared Uncle Daemon seems so vulnerable.
"Well... father told me today that I have to wed you, so I guess that means I want you...?" you ask quietly, a little unsure.
Daemon can feel his heart pounding in his chest. His words slur slightly, and he couldn't help but smile at you. Things were going better than he had imagined, and he hoped he hadn't misunderstood the situation.
"What I mean is... do you want me as your husband?"
He wants to know the truth, even if it means you'd reject him.
You think for a moment.
"Well..." you finally say.
"I was always afraid of getting married," you say quietly, "I thought my father would marry me off to an old, fat lord..."
And then you look at him, "But you're neither old nor fat," you say a little cheekily and a smile graces your lips, "So, yes.."
Daemon's smile widens when he hears your cheeky words. Those words were music to his ears. They meant that he would hold you in his arms, that you would soon have his child, that the blood would remain pure. He feels a sense of triumph, the thought that he could have you made his pulse beat faster.
"Then you would wed me..." he says, still smiling. They are such simple words, but they make him feel so much pleasure. As he speaks, his hand moves to your waist and he pulls your body closer to him.
You gasp slightly, but a laugh escapes you as he pulls you closer to him.
"Yes... I wouldn't have a say in it anyway, but yes, I'll be your wife," you say.
You hesitate for a moment and look at him.
"But what do you think of that?" you ask quietly, "I mean... I am younger than you?"
Daemon puts his other hand around the back of your neck and pulls you even closer to him. He likes that you're so much younger than him, so naive in that sense. It means he can transfer his desires to you more easily. His grip on your neck tightened a little and he speaks softly, but he doesn't take his eyes off you.
"Age doesn't matter in these things," he murmurs softly.
His hand runs up and down your body and he feels how soft you are against his hand.
You giggle slightly, his fingers lightly tickling your skin.
"But you've always said that your young nephews and nieces are just little brats..." you say, "They're not much younger than me..."
Daemon smiles slightly, your words making him laugh. You were a smart girl, despite your innocence. He can imagine you could be a bit of trouble, but that wasn't a bad thing. You're funny.
His hand still glides along your body.
"There's a difference between children and you... You're a woman now. An attractive woman..." he whispers, but his words are still slightly slurred.
He becomes bolder in his touch and pulls you even closer to him so that your body almost presses against his.
You smile and blush slightly. His hands feel good on your body, but you're nervous – no one has ever touched you like this before.
"Uncle...?" you whisper.
Daemon smiles even more, he can literally sense that you're a little nervous. That would make you even more submissive. He notices how you blush, and that makes him want you even more.
He speaks softly, in his deep voice.
"Tell me... What does my niece want?"
In response to his question, he lets his hands glide even deeper over your body.
You hesitate for a moment. You feel a warmth inside you as his fingers continue to glide over your body.
"I... I'm still a maiden..." you whisper, "I've never kissed anyone before..."
And you gasp slightly as his hand suddenly grabs your bum. Your eyes meet and you become even more nervous.
"Can we wait until we are wed?" you suddenly whisper. Your nervousness gets the better of you and you're not sure where lying in bed with your uncle like this will lead, but you're sure you shouldn't do it until you're husband and wife.
Daemon is still smiling, your soft bum in his hand. Your words are exactly what he was hoping for. A maiden! His lips twist into a mischievous smile as you speak, his tone brimming with lust, "My niece is a maiden?"
His hand squeezes your bum even tighter as he speaks, but as you look into his eyes, he is caught by your purple eyes and his face softens.
"You want me to wait until you're my wife?"
He asks quietly, but surprised, the delicate scent of wine on his breath. How could he wait when you are pure temptation? But you just nod slightly.
"Yes... I mean... Everyone says it's nothing special and that women wouldn't enjoy it anyway..." you whisper.
"But I want it to be special... and when we're wed..." you whisper.
Daemon is surprised at how pure you are, almost shocked. He hadn't expected you, a princess, to have no experience at all. Your innocence was like gold to him.
"If that's what you want, niece…" he finally speaks in a slow voice that is both gentle and demanding. Then his hand slowly slides down from your bum to your thigh. It sounded like you had set your terms, but they were acceptable to him, a fair compromise. With any other maiden, he would have pushed the desire to the extreme until he got what he wanted. But you're not just any girl, you're his beloved niece. He doesn't want it to be all about him – he wants you to enjoy it too.
You nod and smile slightly, "Yes..." you whisper.
His fingers glide over your body again and you can't take your eyes off him. His eyes follow his fingers as they glide gently over the fabric of your nightgown. But his dreamy eyes are distracted when your voice rings out.
"But... do you think it would be wrong to try..." you say softly, hesitating as you blush, "...I mean... I've never kissed anyone before"
You sound as innocent as a young woman can be, and that arouses him so much.
"It would be wrong to try..." he whispers, and for a moment you feel bad for asking such a thing, until he speaks his next words, "...Because then I'd want more"
You gasp slightly as he speaks softly. His tone is almost pleading, filled with desire that grows by the second. He tries to hold back as best he can.
"But just kiss me, I won't push you for more..." he murmurs suddenly, leaning closer to you and again, you gasp slightly, but nod as he leans closer to you.
Your teeth lightly clamp around your lip as his hand slides to your neck and gently grips it. Daemon holds your neck ever so gently, running his thumb lightly over your cheek. He comes even closer, his thumb now gently caressing your lip. His breath was soft and even on your mouth now.
His voice is filled with all the desire a man could feel.
"Come on... Kiss me, niece. Just one peck...," he murmurs softly.
You exhale heavily, but then you lean forward. Your lips meet and you breathe heavily.
You could be bursting with nervousness, your heart trying to burst out of your chest. But after a short time, you slowly calm down – the calm that radiates from Daemon takes you over completely.
His thumb is still gently caressing your cheek and your lips just touch. His lips are soft, and you never thought lips could be so soft. But then Daemon moves his lips slightly. Slight nervousness flares up in you again, but you just try to follow his movements. Until his tongue suddenly touches your lips and you gasp slightly.
The way you kiss is so sweet and innocent, yet with a hint of arousal. It made Daemon's breath catch in his throat. At first he just wanted to tease you and indulge in the sweet caresses of his young niece.
He had tried to be patient and let you take the lead. But as his tongue touches your lips, the wine in his body takes over and he feels you gasp as he continues. His hand slides from the back of your neck to the back of your head, into your hair – and begins to guide you as he slowly slides his tongue into your mouth.
You are overwhelmed as his tongue slides into your mouth.
Your tongues touch and the feeling is indescribable. Such soft yet firm movements. So warm and yet somehow moist. You whimper slightly as his tongue moves further and his hand grips your hair tighter.
His other hand now moves slightly downwards, travelling to your thigh. He tries to give you the same pleasure you give him and starts to move his finger up your thigh.
You pull your head back, your breathing heavy as his fingers caress the inside of your thighs.
His eyelids are half closed as you search for his gaze. A warmth you can't describe spreads through you as his fingers continue to caress you – a questioning expression on your face.
Daemon enjoys it, every little thing you do is so satisfying and pleasurable in so many ways. Your innocence and submissiveness are so pleasing to him. His fingers slowly work their way up the insides of your thighs, getting closer to your womanhood with every caress. He watches your face the whole time. Your lips slightly parted and your eyes staring at him, you look slightly nervous. You don't know what to expect from this, and he liked that. He wanted you to learn.
A gasp echoes through your chambers as his fingers suddenly reach their destination, pressing gently against your womanhood. You grab his biceps, breathing heavily.
You've never felt anything like this before.
Daemon savours the sound of your gasp, almost as much as your hand gripping him. Your body tenses as he moves his fingers slightly and continues his caress. His words are almost like a sweet whisper in your ear, "There's still so much to learn, niece. I look forward to teaching you," he smiles with pure desire on his face.
And it grows with every movement he makes, with every little reaction from you. He's more daring now, his fingers move faster and suddenly you moan quietly. You look at him, slightly startled by the sound that leaves you. But the shock doesn't last long as his aimed movements make you moan again. Your fingers dig into the muscles of his arm.
"Is... is this okay? What we're doing here..." you whimper and a chuckle escapes Daemon.
A mischievous grin crosses his face. Your reaction is exactly what he had hoped for. You felt joy where you had only expected pain. Your eyes are still wide with excitement and maybe even a little fear. You're a little naive, but in such an endearing way.
"Yes. That's all right and natural..." he says in a voice of pure desire, his voice now just a murmur. He breathes faster, he wants more, but he wants to take his time.
The feeling becomes more and more overwhelming and you don't know where to put your hands so that they end up resting on his chest. You moan again as his fingers move faster. He likes making you feel like this and he likes seeing and experiencing your reactions. He sees your toes wiggle and your mouth open slightly. He enjoys it so much that he almost loses control of himself... The part of his brain that's trying to stay in control tells him to tease you, to make you beg for it, to make you scream. But somehow he resists. This moment is too precious for him.
But suddenly his finger slides into you and you whimper. You look at him, you're breathing heavily and then he leans forward again and kisses you. He growls slightly and you whimper in response. He savours every sound you make as you experience all this for the first time. You are so beautiful, so gentle and innocent, and this is his reward for waiting to split you open with his cock.
But still, his finger slides in and out of you slowly, taking his time, trying to make this a slow but perfect experience for you. He can feel your wet walls tightening around his finger, your tightness adjusting to his finger, he growls softly. Everything about it turns him on, not just your body, but the sweet sounds you make, and he takes each one in and would never forget it.
His finger moves slowly and rhythmically, creating more sounds from you, his finger soaked by now.
"Uncle..." you whimper softly and he kisses you again. Your hands on his chest grab his shirt and your whimpering continues. Your hand slides to his neck, pulling him closer to you – it feels so good for you. You just want to feel something like this with him... you need more.
Daemon just grins as he feels you pull him closer to you and your thighs spread slightly, making it easier for him to thrust his finger into you. Your moans and whimpers arouse him immensely, and that makes him even more eager to please you.
His finger moves faster, thrusting deeper into you. With the same eagerness, he let his tongue wander into your mouth as he pulled his finger out of you, only to push it back in. He growls again and pushes you back onto the bed and with one movement, he pushed himself between your legs, kneeling gently between them.
A gasp escapes you between your moans. Your eyes are fixed on him as he moves between your legs. His heavy breathing echoes through your chambers as he kneels between you and pushes his finger inside you again. But this time he adds another finger.
You cry out slightly as you feel the pressure. You whimper and reach for his arm. Daemon notices your slight discomfort immediately and bends down slightly. His lips slide onto yours and you whimper into his mouth as he growls slightly. His fingers slowly but purposefully find their way inside you and slowly the slight pain becomes pleasure. Daemon fels your walls clench around his fingers, your inner muscles spasm as he begins to move his fingers faster.
Daemon breaks away from the kiss and watches your face closely. He senses how sensitive you are. But the sounds that escape you as he guides his fingers inside you are like warm music to his ears. He wanted to hear you make those sounds again and again.
He moves his fingers further, daring to go deeper and find the perfect rhythm. Daemon smiles, he's enjoying this so much. Your breathing quickens and your grip on his arms tightened as he teases you. Daemon leans forward again and thrusts his finger harder into you. Your purple eyes meet and he sees pure desire in your gaze, with a hint of shame.
You can't suppress your uncontrollable moans as his fingers thrust faster. His other hand held your thigh, but then slid to your warm core. Light pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves follows and makes you cry out again as his fingers continue to penetrate you.
Your thighs begin to tremble slightly and a pressure builds up in your abdomen. You don't know what's happening to you, but you trust Daemon. His eyes are fixed greedily on you, as if he's expecting something from you, but you don't know what.
Daemon's breath gets heavier as he watches you, you are so innocent but your reactions turn him on so much. He's enjoying your first experience together so much and he knows you are as well.
He moves his fingers faster and harder. His deliberate movements on your bundle of nerves rub your wetness, make you moan louder, he wants to see you squirm.
He can feel the tension building up in your body, your walls clenching around his fingers again and again. His body is full of energy and he begins to growl with desire. He can't wait any longer, he's so aroused by the sounds you're making, your eyes wide and beautiful. He knows you're close.
When he feels your whole body start to tremble, your thighs want to close around his hands and your eyes roll back, he just smiles. He would make this good for you. He continues to move in the same rhythm, hitting just the right spot, and you're about to experience the most powerful thing you've ever experienced.
You cry out slightly as your damp walls almost crush his fingers. You don't know what's happening, but a wave of pleasure floods through your body. You moan and whimper, his fingers still moving slightly and you grip his arm tighter. He leans down and bite your neck lightly. His growls becoming louder, just hearing you moan and whimper is doing enough for him now.
"Uncle Daemon..." you whimper and look at him as he sits up again, breathing heavily. Daemon just smiles, he's just given you your first climax.
His fingers move slower now, and his eyes watch you with a smug expression as he whispers, "It'll be like this every night when you're my wife..."
You blush even more as he says these words.
Slowly, he pulls his fingers out of you and you whimper slightly.
Still breathing heavily, you look at him.
"Every... Every night...?" you whisper a little breathlessly.
Daemon grins as he looks at you, so flushed and breathless. He savours the thought that this would happen every night. He loves being able to teach you, and he knows he would enjoy giving you new experiences.
"Every night... And sometimes every day..." he says in a soft voice as he continues to smile, "But only if you're a good wife..." he whispers with that mischievous smile.
You gasp indignantly, but smile slightly. Exhausted, Daemon drops onto the bed next to you and stares at you. "I'll be the best wife possible," you finally say.
He grins again, you're always good at obeying. He puts his arms around you, pulls you closer.
"Good..." he murmurs.
He moves his head close to your face and your lips almost touch. His breath is almost warm and then he lets his lips brush your cheek and whispers softly in your ear.
"And to a good wife many things will be given..."
You blush even more, but giggle slightly as he grabs your bum again. He pulls you further towards him and your lips meet almost automatically.
Daemon smiles a little at your giggle, you still seem a little shy to him, and he liked that. You were so pure.
He moves his hand down to your thigh and slowly slides his fingers back between her legs to tease her again – and this would be repeated on many more nights.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
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ichorai · 5 months
Text
tourney favor ; aemond targaryen (m).
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pairing ; aemond targaryen x wife!reader
synopsis ; it was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. but it wasn’t improper by any means. strange, perhaps, but not improper. you glanced back at aemond. he was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched. was he jealous?
wc ; 2.1k
themes ; smut, mild fluff, established relationship (married)
warnings / includes ; jealous aemond, unprotected sex, breeding kink and brief mentions of pregnancy/children, wall sex, foul language, mentions of violence/murder
a/n ; if this fic sounds familiar, i took some lines from my far-lengthier aemond fic, balance the scales :)
main masterlist.
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A grand tourney was held in honor of Jahaerys and Jahaera’s eighth nameday. 
You sat beside Helaena in the high platforms on the elongated arena, hands twisting in your lap. Tourneys usually bored you to no end—watching men hurt themselves over little else than theatrical show and bragging rights was not something you were very keen on. It felt like a waste of time to you, especially because you were already spoken for—you’d much rather be reading, or honing your needlework, or playing with the twins. To your other side was your husband, Aemond, looking equally disinterested in the event. You noticed his long fingers tapping impatiently against his knee, as if he were itching to leave. His older brother Aegon was nowhere to be seen, most likely somewhere in the bowels of the Street of Silk. 
You couldn’t help but feel envious. How come the father of the children the realm was celebrating was off gallivanting through the city, probably sunken into his cups and his whores? He was free to fuck whoever and whenever he wanted. Whilst you had to sit for hours on end beside your beloved husband, with whom you wanted to do nothing more than clamber into his lap and kiss him until the two of you grew dizzy.
Perhaps a large part of your agitation was due to the fact that Aemond had sunken to his knees in your chambers only an hour before, his tongue spelling worship over your drenched core. And you’d been so close, ever so close to falling off the edge—
Until there came a knock on the door, and Criston Cole’s muffled voice echoed through the shut door. He had to urgently speak to Aemond before the tourney, apparently. 
Something akin to a growl caught in his throat as your husband reluctantly drew away from you. You moaned lowly at the loss, sitting up at the edge of the four-poster bed as you watched him wipe your arousal from his chin.
“We’ll resume this tonight,” he had whispered into your flushed ears, before whisking off to speak to Ser Criston.
Seven fucking hells.
It took several moments for you to compose yourself, before you called in one of your handmaidens to help you dress for the tourney. Redo your hairstyle, too, because Aemond had certainly mussed it beyond salvation.
And now, as you fussed with your fingers in the stands, boredly clapping whenever the crowd was, it only came as an utter surprise when you heard your name called out. You sat up straighter, eyes falling from your hands to the riding grounds down below. It didn’t slip past your notice seeing Aemond tense, his fingers curling into a pale fist over his thigh.
A handsome knight donned in black-and-yellow armor stared up at you. You faintly recalled the patterned sigil emblazoned into the shield he was holding—he was of House Darklyn. He had taken off his helmet momentarily, lodged between his waist and his free arm. Gorgeous dark locks spilled over the nape of his neck, only slightly curled. 
The olive green of his eyes gleamed boldly, full lips upturned into a charming smile. “Might I be honored with your favor, my Lady? I can certainly use the luck.” 
Your gaze flickered over to his formidable opponent, a strong and muscular man, shrouded in white. His shield bore a red lion. House Reyne.
It was rare for knights to ask married ladies for their favors, as it was often a way to win a lady's hand in the midst of courtship. But it wasn’t improper by any means. Strange, perhaps, but not improper. You glanced back at Aemond. He was studying you, single eye narrowed, jaw clenched.
Was he jealous?
You could feel the muted arousal roar back to life in your lower abdomen. 
“Of course, Ser,” you called back with a knowing smile in your husband’s direction. You grabbed a ring of woven flowers and tossed it down over the jousting lance. “Be careful.”
Off the Darklyn knight went with your favor swaying by the lance’s handle, the metal grating of his helmet pulled down over his grinning features. You weren’t even sure what his name was.
The joust began just as you sat back down beside Aemond—but you found yourself barely paying attention to what was unfolding, and rather kept your eyes trained on your husband.
“Rather improper of him to ask for your favor,” he commented snidely, voice lowered so only you could hear. “You’re my wife.”
“Perhaps you should be down there, then,” you replied lightly, offering him a cruel smile. You knew well just how little Aemond cared for all the glamor the tourneys offered. “Show them who I belong to.”
Expression hardening to stone, he suddenly gripped your arm with iron-strength, hauling you up out of your seat, despite your half-hearted protests. You wondered if the Darklyn knight would search for you once the tourney was over. You found yourself unsurprised that you couldn’t care less about him.
Especially not with Aemond leading you down the halls of the Keep, twisting several sharp turns before shoving your chamber’s entrance open. Just as quickly as you were yanked inside, the wooden door slammed shut behind you, and you were promptly shoved up against it.
His lips were angry over yours, claiming you, biting you, devouring you completely. You fell slack in his arms, one of your hands resting over his chest, almost as if you were debating between pushing him away or pulling him closer. He swallowed the noises of contentment that slipped from your throat.
“You just couldn’t wait,” he snarled, shoving you against the door harder until he was pressed flush over your body. Jealous Aemond was certainly a sight to behold. “My greedy little wife.”
You preened at his words, arching your back, desperate to reconnect your lips to his. He didn’t put up a fight, allowing you to fight for dominance, claw at his neck and chest in desperation as you kissed him as if he were the very air you needed to breathe. 
Wasting no time, he reached down to yank the bottom of your dress upwards—cursing under his breath at all the damned layers you were wearing—and hurriedly shoved away your shift so he could reach your pulsing cunt. 
You were drenched. Warm and wet and fuck, he couldn’t wait a moment longer—
Sensing this, you made quick work of his trousers, yanking them downwards before moving up to pop off his tunic’s buttons. A startled, pleasured cry—verging on a hysterical sob—tore from your lungs and rattled across the chambers when he suddenly thrusted two long fingers into you, his thumb working quick circles over your sensitive clit. You’d already been denied an orgasm once, and you found a litany of breathless pleas erupting from your lips, as if it were just second nature.
“Please, Aemond, please—” You choked on whatever else you had to say, eyes rolling back as your orgasm slammed into you far too soon for your liking. Heavy and all-consuming. 
But it wasn’t enough. You wanted more, more, you’d always want more of your husband.
“Aemond, please, I need you inside,” you croaked, letting out a sigh when he drew a few tender kisses to your forehead. A glimpse of the softer side of your husband, scarcely shown unless it was with you. You loved him like this, but you wanted—no, you needed—him to lose all abandon with you. 
“If you won’t fuck me, I’ll ask the Darklyn knight,” you growled with a serrated tone.
Aemond drew away from you, violet eye ablaze. Was it fury or was it possessiveness written so plainly over his features? Perhaps both. “What did you say?” he whispered, a hand suddenly surging up to grip your jaw.
“I said,” you huffed, staring at him with a challenging quirk of your brows, “I’ll ask another man to fuck me. If my husband won’t do so, that is.”
Silence on Aemond was scarier than anything. You wished he would speak, or scream, or call you filthy names. But no, he… he was observing you. Calculating. Like a cat would a mouse. 
Or a dragon would its kill.
With one fluid motion, he drew his length into his hand—long and hard and angrily weeping with beads of pearly precum. The other hand abruptly flipped you around with surprising strength, crowding you against the wall beside the door so your back faced him. You moaned out his name when he pushed your dress up over your hips and dragged his tip over your drenched core.
“Please,” you begged, bracing yourself against the wall and jutting your hips back. If you could hear yourself over the buzzing in your ears, you’d be absolutely mortified at how delirious you sounded.
In one quick motion, he sheathed himself into you. Your warm, pulsating cunt was gripping him like a vice, eliciting a shuddering groan from his lungs. You mirrored his reaction, squeezing your eyes shut and holding onto him for dear life as he began to pound into you with no restraint. The lewd noises ricocheting in the room made your cheeks heat up until your entire face felt like it had been set aflame. With each snap of his hips into yours, you found yourself crying his name like a mantra, his hands bruising over your waist, pulling you back into him.
You were blubbering incoherently, begging for more. You just about lost it when one of his hands disappeared from your waist—only to roll over your aching clit with quick circles. A sob broke past your lips and you clenched hard around his length, feeling every hot inch of him buried deep inside you. His pace staggered with the sudden shift and he groaned out a curse, followed by your name.
“Who did you want to fuck?” he bit out, slightly breathless, words dripping with venom. “What’s his name?”
“I—” You hiccupped a cry with a particularly loud thrust. “Oh, fuck, Aemond!”
“Right,” he hissed, bending forward to bite down on your strained neck. “I’m the only one who can fuck you like this. Not pretty boys in silly costumes—mmph—not daft knights who lose tourneys. Me.”
The last word was ground out when your cunt spasmed around his girth once more, and you wailed out his name as your orgasm rolled over you. It was a wonder nobody had barged in to see if there was someone being murdered. 
“Perhaps I’d have to get you all round and swollen with my child. Show them who you belong to. Who fucked you this good. Would you like that, sweet wife?” 
“Yes, yes, Aemond, I need—I need you to come inside. Please, I need you to stuff me full.”
You reached behind you to blindly grapple for his arm and he briefly shifted the angle and began pounding into you even harder. His cock hit your sweet spot just right, and you saw stars swimming over your vision. 
A near animalistic noise tore through Aemond’s chest when you tightened around him one last time, your warm cunt fluttering around his cock. His rhythm faltered. What drove him over the edge was when he glanced down and saw the thick ring of your creamy arousal at the base of his cock. Gods, you were… beyond perfect.
With a staggered rasp of your name, he thrust into you thrice more before he spilled his seed deep in you, thick spurts of white coating your slick walls.
Heavy pants filled the room. You barely registered his lips kissing along your bare shoulder, where your dress had slipped in the midst of your heated frenzy. 
Slow, he eased himself out of you. “You did so well for me,” he murmured against your skin, smoothing his hands over your waist. “Are you alright?”
“Mmh,” you hummed, because no words would come to you at the moment.
He laughed, a wonderfully rich sound, before gently urging you towards the bed. 
“Get some rest, wife,” he told you, laying you onto the plush mattress and dipping down to kiss your forehead. He regarded you with raw adoration folded over his expression. Though, it was quick to melt into a thunderous one with his next sentence. “I have a certain knight to exchange words with.”
If you hadn’t been so high off your orgasms and exhausted with the new-found urge to sleep the whole night away, you would’ve realized that Aemond was likely going to commit manslaughter over something as trivial as a tourney favor. But you hadn’t thought about it much, not in your sex-addled haze, and promptly fell asleep with only the dream of silver-haired babes with wonderful purple eyes to accompany you. 
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jamespotterismydaddy · 5 months
Text
Spoil of War
dark!aegon x niece!reader
summary: aegon enjoys his time with his prisoner of war
A/N: my bad y'all, it took me forever to get this up
TW: MAJOR DUBCON, smut!!, bondage, incest, violence, kidnapping, degradation, body worship perhaps
word count: 2,245 words
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You sit in your childhood bedroom, stewing with your thoughts. It was all so quick, the battle with Daeron, the demise of your dragon. You should be grateful; she spent her last moments cushioning your fall so you wouldn’t die on impact, but you can’t help thinking that you would be better off dead. There’s hardly anything worse than being a prisoner of war, except being Aegon’s prisoner of war.
Speak of the Devil, Aegon has the guards open your chamber doors and the smug bastard strolls in. “Ah, my sweet niece. I finally have the chance to lay my eyes on you.” He regards your nightgown with great interest. You haven’t had a chance to dress yourself for the day yet. “You’ve been quite the subject of controversy as of late.” He says with a light smirk.
“Which part is controversial, the fact that you’re keeping me prisoner, usurper?” You say back to him with spite.
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic. It’s a temporary situation.” He says, unconcerned as he walks over to your dining table of untouched food and picks up an apple, taking a bite of it. “Once your mother bends the knee, i’ll return you to her. It’s as easy as that.”
“Or they’ll take control of King’s Landing and Daemon will slaughter you where you stand.” You’ve never heard your voice filled with such hate before as when you speak now.
“Come on, the threats are hardly necessary. You are safe with us - for the time being.” He makes a stupid joking cringe face at the second part of his sentence. “You could do with being more amicable.”
“Amicable? I’m your fucking prisoner and if her Grace the Queen doesn’t bend the knee to your spoiled, traitorus ass, you’ll execute me.”
“War doesn’t often give you many options. And you, my dear niece, are a very valuable bargaining chip.” As he speaks, you know he takes the utmost pleasure in you being in his control. You want to wipe the smug grin off his face.
You reach for the piece of glass you had hidden, ever so slowly. You feel your hand clutch it and your gaze is filled with rage as you launch yourself at him. “You traitor!” You aim for his throat with the sharp point but he catches your arm. The broken glass barely grazes him, leaving only the thinnest line of blood as proof of your attack. He twists your arm and the piece of glass clatters to the floor. Your uncle releases you only so he can backhand you so hard that you fall to the floor.
“Gods, you’re a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” He wipes the drip of the blood off his neck. “Clever girl, going for the throat.” He laughs at you. You just tried to kill him and he laughs at you.
You glare up at him, your face distraught and full of vengeance. You quickly reach for the glass that you had dropped but as soon as you manage to grip it again, Aegon kicks you in the stomach. You curl into yourself, whimpering.
“Okay that’s enough of that. Guards!” The guards immediately enter the room, ready to defend their king. “Restrain her. Use… rope.” He has a certain look on his face as he says the last word, seemingly pleased with himself as he struts out of the room.
You’re left on your knees, by the fireplace for an hour until Aegon returns. Your hands behind your back, the bindings keeping you in place. There is, what you consider to be, an unnecessary amount of rope tied around your body that is seemingly for decoration, for your uncle’s pleasure.
“Are you calm now?” He asks as he strides back into your chamber with arrogance. “I wasn’t sure what the cool down time was for Strong bastards.” His stare is hungry as he looks upon you. “What a pleasant sight, my combative niece tied up at my feet.” He almost mumbles the last part.
“I will be calm when I watch your body burn.” There is heat in your words, your threats.
“That is a lot of big talk for a girl who is kneeling for her king. You’re much more desirable like this… when you’re helpless beneath my gaze.” His fingertips graze under your chin, tilting it up so you have to look at him. You jerk your head away.
“Don’t touch me!” You spit at his feet.
“Silly to say such things when you’re at my mercy.” He kneels down to look at you better, his fingers run along your soft hair. “I’ve never been more tempted. And i’ve been tempted many, many times.” He leans in to whisper in your ear. “I had forgotten how divine you are.”
You know where he’s going with this, what he wants. His finger trails down your nightgown, to your breast, giving it a light squeeze. “You’ll burn in the Seven Hells for this!” You say as you fight against your restraints.
He ignores your words. “If I were a more brazen man, i’d ravish you right here and now… oh wait.” He chuckles at his own joke.
The fire burns bright behind you and his dagger gleams in the warm light as he unsheathes it. He cuts one of the cap sleeves of your nightgown. “You have no right.” Your eyes flare bolder than dragonflame as you speak.
“Oh, my lovely sweet niece, I absolutely have the right because you are under my protection. If I want to rip that nightgown off and ravage you, who’s going to stop me?” He says sadistically… lustfully as he cuts the other cap of your gown.
“It’s not a proper way to treat an important bargaining chip.” You say softly. To be truthful, younger you would be preening at the chance to be so close to Aegon. Up until now, you had thought that part of you had died with Luke. Now, he’s so close, so... alluring.
“It’s not, but when have I ever been known to behave properly?” He then cuts your nightgown off of you, down the middle and as swiftly as he can without cutting through your bonds, leaving you naked other than the smallclothes that barely cover your lower half.
His eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you almost completely naked. His hand falls to your thigh, rubbing the smooth soft skin. “You’ve always had such a lovely figure, niece.”
You flinch and squirm some more. And then you begin to scream bloody murder. Aegon winces before grabbing part of your torn nightgown and shoving it in your mouth. “Such a noisy girl. Now, that’s better. You shouldn’t scream so much. I only intend to show you a good time. I promise you’ll love it.”  He smirks again. “Well… i’ll love it.”
His other hand trails up your navel, to your breast, giving it another squeeze. He then pushes you back on the flocculent carpet and what a sight you make with your hair splayed around you and your pretty mouth gagged. The pillows are strewn about you, in place so you can sit as close to the crackling fire as you wish. Now, it has become the perfect scene for Aegon to take you. He looks at you as if you are the maiden herself, descended from the heavens to be gifted to him. To him, your fairness outmatches Psyche… it outmatches Aphrodite. 
“You don’t know how long I have waited for this, princess.” He then rips your remaining small clothes off, leaving you completely nude. His eyes just rake over you for a moment before he speaks.  “Ah, a sight I could get used to.” He leans down to kiss your breast, focusing on your nipple, focusing on making you feel good? He litters little marks all over before moving to the other and giving it the same attention. He then begins to methodically kiss down your chest, to your tummy, past your navel. You know what he intends his final destination to be. You keep your legs clamped firmly shut, not fully because you want him to stop, and partly because of the wetness that lies between your thighs.
“Hm, a little shy, are we? How sweet…” It isn’t difficult for him to pry your legs open and he grins at the sight of you dripping for him. “Naughty little girl, all wet for her uncle.” 
You turn your heat to the side so you don’t have to make eye contact with him. He grabs your chin and turns your head back. “No. You will watch as I fuck you with my tongue.” You try not to groan as he licks up between your legs, his eyes on yours as his pupils blow wide. He kisses, licks and nips at you, taking you to places in pleasure you’ve never been before. When his tongue pierces your entrance, you can’t stop the whimper that falls from your lips. You hope the gag muted the sound enough that he wouldn’t hear, but your hopes are dashed when he lifts his head.
“I think I want to hear all the pretty little sounds that you make. No more screaming though. Unless, they’re screams of gratification.” He pulls the torn cloth from your mouth but you keep your lips stubbornly sealed. He shakes his head and chuckles before he is between your thighs again. The man eats you like you’re his last meal but you don’t let a single sound out, much to his displeasure even if he can tell that you don’t do it with ease. 
“Why must you be so difficult?” He asks exasperatedly.
“I want you dead.” He rolls his eyes at the statement. “Perhaps you aren’t as good at pleasuring women as you believe.” That pisses him off.
“You’re such a little liar.” He flips you over so your ass is in the air and your chest and face are squished into a cushion, your hands unable to hold you up due to their bindings. “Perhaps I need to fuck that bratty behaviour out of you.” He says and you hear the rustling of clothes behind you. You know he’s undressing and you know there’s no way you can stop him from taking you now, not with how you have pissed him off, not with how your cunt is so deliciously presented to him. But it won’t stop you from trying.
“Aegon don’t you dare.” You say with all the confidence you can muster. You don’t fear your maidenhood being taken, you fear the possibility of a bastard being put in your belly.
“Don’t you ever presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, wench.” With that, he shoves himself inside of you, all the way to the hilt. You let out a strangled moan and he laughs. “No keeping your sounds to yourself now.” He then begins to piston himself into you, the head of him brushing your cervix with each thrust. You feel so full every time his hips meet yours. “Gods i’ve never felt a cunt so tight and wet.” His hands grip your hips roughly so he can bring them back with each thrust, making it feel like he’s hitting deeper inside of you. 
“Aegon…” You whine out and squeeze a little around him.
“You like it, don’t you? You like it when your uncle fucks you. I’ve taken you as a prisoner and now you’re moaning in pleasure as I use you. What would your brothers think, what would your mother think, if they saw you taking my cock so well?”
You just whine his name again in response, your head too cloudy to give him an answer.
“I want you to say it. Say how much you love having me inside you.” He fucks into you so deeply that all you want to do is obey.
“I l-ove it, uncle. I love it when you fuck me.” You whimper out again as he stretches you so perfectly.
“That’s what I fucking thought.” His finger comes between your legs to rub your clit and you almost scream. “God, you’re such a little cockslut. Am I your first, little niece?”
“Y-Yes…” You say softly and he grins.
“I thought so. Nobody gets so worked up like a maiden.” He rubs you harder, so fast that you see stars. You begin to squirm a little as your walls begin to squeeze around his thick cock.
He grasps your hair at the roots and pulls your head back so you have to look him in the eye. “That’s right, cum around my cock, baby. Do it.” You fully reach your peak with his command. He watches your face contort with pleasure as you finish around his cock, drawing out his own orgasm. He gives a few more hard thrusts before spilling his seed in you. “Good girl.”
You wince as he pulls out, feeling empty now. He easily manoeuvres you back to your knees and stands up with you at his feet. He tilts your chin up so you have to look him in the eye again.
“I’ll be visiting you much more often now. You don’t have the kind of cunt a man can handle only fucking once.” His thumb strokes your cheek. For the depravity he speaks, his voice is surprisingly soft
“I hate you.”
He smiles gently. “Hate me all you want. I can take it.”
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the-fiction-witch · 20 hours
Text
Heat Of The Water P3
Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Jacaerys Velaryon Couple - Jacaerys X Reader Reader - Y/n (Choose your own house) Rating - SMUT Word Count - 2293
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Jace continued to gaze at her as she lay there, his eyes raking her body as she lay in his arms and his hand stroked her hair. He was overwhelmed by a desire to explore her body further at this moment, but he forced himself to remain still. He wanted to respect her, and he also did not wish to ruin the moment for her. The way she lay upon him was so inviting, and his heart raced at the idea of making her his in that way. His imagination began to race, filling his mind with images of how he should proceed.
"thank you" she giggled, "Thank you very much my prince" she cooed giving his lips another kiss,
Jace smiled down at her now, unable to deny that it felt incredibly good to be praised by her. He returned her kiss passionately, feeling the heat of the moment start to rise again. His hand slowly moved to her back, slowly beginning to slip lower as he enjoyed the feel of her body against his. He knew exactly where he wanted to take this, but he still held himself back for the moment. His eyes moved to her neck once again, tempted to steal more kisses from her.
she giggled, "Jace? What are you up to?" She giggled
Jacaerys looked down at her again, A soft smile came to his face as he realized she had seen what he was doing. His hand stilled, now resting upon her lower back as he looked into her eyes. "Nothing, my Lady, I just wanted to see if you were feeling any more... comfortable now," he replied, glancing down at her chest again.
"I am feeling comfortable, tried but comfortable why?"
"I was just curious. I know that what we have just done was... intimate." Jace looked down at her once again, feeling the heat rising in his body as he looked at her. His hand on her back had slipped lower, his thumb starting to rub the top of her ass. He wanted her to know he hadn't forgotten where he intended to take this, but he wanted to hear her answer this question first.
she blushed a little "Yes? It was. It was very intimate. And I enjoyed it very much and thanked my sweet betrothal greatly for giving me such a ... Thrill. Humm I take it he now wants to play with something else?"
Jace raised an eyebrow, his own body trembling with excitement as his hand continued to rub the top of her ass. He couldn't help but notice her blushing as well. He took it as another sign that she was willing to be so playful after what they had just explored, and he loved that she felt so comfortable with him. "Well, my Betrothed, I... may have had something else in mind... but I would only want to if you are up for it my sweet"
she blushed slightly but she smiled "My betrothed is more than welcome to do whatever it is he has on the mind as a thank you for supplying me with such pleasure"
Jace could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth, but she seemed to be quite enthusiastic about what they were doing. He felt a surge of energy flow through him as he realized that she was giving him such open freedom to explore her body. His thumb continued its rubbing, and he made little attempt to conceal what had grown from his excitement. "Well, my Lady, that is quite the invitation. I'm sure you are not prepared for how much I intend to take advantage of this..." he whispered,
"I'm sure I am not but willing all the same"
Jace could feel it now, his excitement was almost at a breaking point, his body trembling in his anticipation for the next part. He leaned down to kiss her, not a tender one this time but a bold one that betrayed his wants and desires. He pushed her back slightly, beginning to move his hand down between her legs towards where he wanted to explore. Jace's hand moved between her legs, his thumb hovering just above where he wished to enter. He couldn't believe she was actually giving him this much leeway in the moment. He was already imagining going even further, but he wanted to focus on her pleasure for now. He looked back down at her face, finding her blushing as he made his approach. She looked so innocent, yet she had been such a naughty little girl in terms of her desires. He was starting to wonder just how much more he could get away with. He moved his hand to meet her sweet lips and stroked between them his fingers soon found her pussy and slipped in without concern, his thumb gently circling her clit, Jace could see how excited he was making her, and was only further enticed by the idea.
She was so receptive to him, Y/n squealed in response given he had already made her cum since their bath began and now he was tormenting her once more, her hands grabbed his wrist between her legs
Jace was almost entirely focused on her pleasure at this point, the power and ability to make her squeak and moan with simply his touch making him feel incredibly powerful. He could feel her grabbing his wrist, and he wasn't sure at this point whether she wanted him to go further or stop. He decided to test the waters, and his finger began to push inside her.
she screamed and threw her head back her breasts coming above the water as her body trembled in response
Jace's face was almost entirely red at this point, the sight of her body and the sound of her screams sending his body into overdrive. His body was trembling in response to the sight of how his touch was making her respond, and his eyes were glued on her every reaction to his touch.
she screams and squeals louder then he had ever heard a woman scream as if she was screaming bloody murder for him the sounds of them moving in the water inaudible over her squeals her body blushing red and squirming on him trying to resist her hands clamped around his wrist
Jace was incredibly excited to hear these sounds coming from her, and he could not resist the urge to explore further despite the grip she had on his wrist. He continued to push gently, his finger starting to move in and out slowly. His eyes were glued on how her body was responding, and every twitch and convulsion was making him crave her even more.
she moans loudly his name falling like a waterfall from her lips her head thrown back
Jace found himself utterly speechless, his body tingling as he listened to the sounds coming out of her. The way she let out his name in those sweet squeals and moans was more enjoyable than anything he had ever experienced. He wanted to continue, moving his finger faster and faster to gain a better rhythm.
she continues all her squirming more words now fall from her lips "Jace .. please... Stop..." She begged but breathy and desperately she didn't want him to stop she tried to hide how excited she really is
Jace began to feel conflicted, the way she said his name with such desperation and desire was almost overwhelming. However, he couldn't help but notice that she was telling him to stop, and it was tearing at him inside to hear it. He wanted nothing more than to ignore it and keep going, but his mind would not allow it. He stopped his fingers as he looked up at her, seeking her permission to continue.
as he stopped she kissed his lips and moved herself slightly in the bath she moved to her knees and leant her head on the rim of the stone tub jace immediately noticed this made her bent over as she gasped as blushed, The sight of her bending over was the final push he needed to ignore the voice in his head that was trying to stop him. He was enjoying her body too much to stop, and he couldn't help but feel confident that she wanted him to keep going. The way she had moved herself made it very clear what her intentions were, and he was determined to give her more of what she needed and wanted. Jace didn't hesitate any longer, his hand starting to move up behind her. She was bent over the rim of the bathtub so this left her rear vulnerable and accessible. He ran his hands up her thighs, finding she had spread her legs slightly. He couldn't resist a quick squeeze of her ass before his hand started to move upwards between her thighs, moving up closer and closer to where he wanted to go.
she squealed a little feel his squeeze but she uncontrollably moved to spread more feeling his hand
Jace had never felt a body react anything like this before, and it sent his own desires into overdrive. Her reaction to his hand squeezing had him wanting more, and he began to move his hands gripping her and forcing her so she was spreading for him more so it was easier to explore. He couldn't believe how willing she was to let him do this. He was just as surprised at the way her hips tilted back further at the feeling of his hand reaching between her legs once more, Jace tried to keep things slow, wanting to make this last as long as possible, however every inch of her he discovered only made him want to go a little bit deeper and explore even further. With a boldness he had not known he was capable of. He found himself trembling with his own desire.
Jace looked up to see how much she had spread her legs now, enjoying the sight of her bent over before him.
she gasped and blushed hard with his every touch so much she began whining "Jace... Please..."
Jace looked back up to her, finding her face was now redder from their interactions. Her whinning only increased his own desires, He couldn't resist, Jace let out a soft chuckle, hearing her begging him he was enjoying the feeling of that dominance within him. He had never felt anything this enjoyable before, and the way she was reacting was only fueling him more. His hand continued to move his fingers in and out of her, getting faster and faster with her begging. He let himself take in the beautiful sounds coming from her as he made her beg for more. He was still somewhat hesitant, but he felt that urge building within him, driving him to a point where he couldn't resist anymore.
she begged him loudly screaming it "please more Jace please no more of your hand I beg you, please take your hand away please give me something else you what I want I need Jace please give it to me my love"
Jace's eyes widened to hear her begging for more, and he became even more confident as she screamed for him. Almost as if she was giving him permission to go in whatever direction he wanted. The way she had described this "something else" he was giving her only enhanced his excitement. Jace could not resist the urge to take her up on her offer, the way she was screaming for him to give her something else driving him into a frenzy. He smirked “As you desire my sweet,” getting a good grasp of her backside. He pushed her a little further forward, so he had enough access to give her exactly what she was begging for.
Jace began slowly giving himself a few short strokes but he was already more than hard enough so he moved closer and gently slipped inside which made her squeal out in desire at finally getting what she wanted, Jace pushed further Her entire body trembled with how deep he was now, and he felt her insides clamping around him as she screamed loudly. His body responded in kind, his breathing speeding up as his desire rose higher and higher.
He grabbed her hips hard his mind filled only with a desire for her, for this feeling, for his release, he never wanted this moment to end, he wanted to go slow and enjoy it forever but he had little control over himself as his hips buck and thrust mindlessly fueled by her ever-growing moans and screams of pleasure she screams his name as if his name is all that is keeping her alive, until her whole body trembles and shakes, her insides tighten around him, her voice breaks and shreds, her mouth hung open in a long throaty scream, as she hits her orgasm which Jace struggled with the feeling of and in turn lost any control of himself he still had his body working on its own for rapid jackrabbit like thrusts before he quickly forced himself away and sent his seed across her back,
"Fuck-" he grunted before his knees gave out and he lay against the bathtub letting the warm water cradle his exhausted body, y/n too slowly moved with what little energy she had until she laid beside him the two cuddling up lazily as they gasp in the heat of the water. “I uhhh I don’t know what came over me there…”
“I didn’t mind Jace,” she giggled,
“I’m sure you didn’t,” He smirked, “I didn’t either honestly,”
“I know one thing though,”
“Oh? What’s that my sweet?” He asked wrapping his arms around her,
“I cannot wait till we’re married Jacaerys,” she giggled,
“I can’t wait till we’re married either Y/n,” He smiled pulling her into a kiss, 
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aemonds-sapphire · 2 years
Text
Persuasion
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Summary: Aemond protects those he cares about ruthlessly. You are no exception. So he will have the truth, or someone’s head. Maybe both.
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW. Overprotective Aemond. Edging. Orgasm denial. Oral sex. Breeding kink (implied)
Word count: 2k
“Do not tell Prince Aemond.”
“Do not worry, my lady. My lips are sealed,” Grand Maester Mellos bowed lightly, gathering his ointments and bandages.
“Do not tell Prince Aemond what?”
By the door frame stood Prince Aemond Targaryen, arms crossed, and a dangerously calm look on his face.
Maester Mellos knew better, and Aemond’s seemingly composed demeanor was not to be trifled with.
The old man froze in place, glaring at the young prince as if he’d suddenly grown a third arm.
Clearing his throat, he greeted with a bow. “Prince Aemond… welcome back.”
He turned his eye to you. “I’m waiting.”
You huffed in annoyance, knowing far too well that he would turn something trivial into an unnecessary ordeal.
Because as far as Aemond Targaryen was concerned, your safety was paramount, and he would not have it any other way.
“Thank you, Maester Mellos,” you smiled warmly, trying to ease his nerves.
He merely hurried to make his way out, but Aemond barred the door, eyeing the man in front of him with a deadly stare.
“Aemond,” you called out, shifting to sit on your bed.
The Targaryen prince clicked his tongue, eventually stepping to the side. “Hmm.”
The poor old man was now visibly shaking, and nearly made a run for it once the pathway was made clear.
“That was uncalled for,” you half-scolded.
The door shut behind him, and he came to take a sit by your side, his face twisted into a serious expression. “What do you not want me to know, then.”
But before you could reply, his eye landed on your hands and you could swear you saw a hint of rage crossing his face.
“Who did this to you?” Poison coated his low voice, sending shivers across your spine.
He took your bruised hands in his, closely inspecting the damage to your knuckles.
It looked far worse than it felt. “I was sparring with Ser Criston. Just for fun,” you revealed, meeting his eye. “It was nothing much. This will heal soon.”
“He did this to you?” he sounded uncharacteristically… calm.
“No.”
Aemond’s tender fingers wrapped around your wrists, anger slipping through the cracks. “Then who?”
It would be much easier to give into the pressure, but you knew fully well that if you were to reveal who had been on the receiving hand of your fist, he’d simply storm out, not caring that the short amount of time you had to spend with with would be ruined.
“Let's forget about this for tonight,” you said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I've missed you so much.”
Aemond rose to his feet, arching an eyebrow. “Should I go ask Maester Mellos, then? I’m sure he’d be much willing to talk.”
Rolling your eyes, you held him in place by tugging at his leather coat.
“Leave the poor man alone and fuck me instead.”
You pulled him towards you by his pants, slightly wincing as pain shot through your bruised hand.
“Tell me who it was.”
Deciding to ignore him, you parted you legs to accommodate him, resting your chin on his stomach. “Prince Aemond… I need you,” you pouted.
The hold you had on the young prince was such that had Queen Alicent fear that it might break her beloved son.
And nothing pleased you more than knowing you could bend him to your will with just the right amount of persuasion.
It didn't take long before he started panting lightly as you began caressing his crotch through the fabric, enjoying your touch and how you so skillfully and rapidly had his cock harden.
His eye fluttered shut, and he removed each layer of clothing from his body, until he got to his pants.
“Do not stare at me like that. I might lose it,” he groaned, bringing his thumb to caress your lips.
Your walls reflexively clenched around nothing, and you felt your clit swell in anticipation.
His toned torso gleamed of a faint mix of warm colours that emanated from the candles spread around you, and you couldn’t help to place the softest kiss on the think hair of silver that spread below his navel.
Aemond undid his pants to ease the tension on his cock before tossing the garment aside.
“Will you not tell me?” he asked, slowly dropping to his knees as your eyes were fixed on his thick and leaking cock.
With both hands on each thigh, he further spread you apart, dragging the fabric of your chemise up your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to his hungry gaze.
You knew what came next, and readied yourself by leaning back, supporting your weight with your arms.
Aemond pressed soft kisses up your inner thigh until he reached your folds.
He was staring intensely at you. “Last chance to tell me, my lady.”
You could feel his breath on you. “What does that mean…”
“Who hurt you?”
Aegon had been the one to meet your fist after he decided it would be smart to badmouth his brother in front of you. Not even Ser Criston Cole moved to defend the future king. He had deserved it.
But the last thing on your mind was Aegon and his ridiculous antics.
Aemond did not answer your question, as he pressed a kiss to your folds.
“How is it so swollen already?” he growled, parting your folds to reveal your throbbing clit. “Do you like me on my knees that much?”
He had such a way with words that you reckoned you might be pushed over the edge from the sound of his voice and lewd words.
You bucked your hips into him as you felt his tongue prodding at your entrance for a brief moment before he dragged it to lick your clit.
The sight of having the young prince hungrily eating you was enough to ignite the coil in your lower abdomen.
His tongue slipped inside you, as his nose was pressed against the sensitive bud, teasing it with each slurp.
“Right there… Gods…” you threw your head back in sheer pleasure.
The pressure on your lower half was such that you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Aemond…”
Just as you we were about to plunge into blinding bliss, you felt him draw away from you. The immediate loss of touch earning a strangled cry from you, your clit demanding attention again.
At first, you thought it was merely his intent do shift positions, so he could be buried deep within you and having your walls contract around him from your release.
However, by the time he was on top of you, dragging the thing underside of his cock along your folds, yet refusing to enter you, that’s when you realised something was off.
“Please… please…” you nearly yelled, wrapping your legs around his waist to increase the friction.
But Aemond paid no mind to your pleas, and kept rolling his hips while sucking gently on your neck.
The moment he heard your gasps getting louder and breathier, he halted, kissing away the tears that had started to flow from the overstimulation.
He lifted his hips as to avoid his cock from touching you at all, and you felt the urge to smack him.
“What are you doing,” you cried out, vision blurry and chest heaving rapidly.
He pressed his lips to your cheek in such adoration, that your heart skipped a beat.
“Do not underestimate my feelings for you,” whispered in a warning tone. “I would start a war for you.”
Others might brush that aside as an overstatement, but Aemond Targaryen did not utter empty threats.
That revelation sent you pushing your hips to his, urging him to have his cock on you once more.
Suddenly, his lips twisted into a mischievous smile, as he suddenly pinned your arms above your face.
You eyes widened in utter shock. “Aemond….”
“It seems we are in a bit of a predicament, lady wife,” he purred, lips nearly touching yours. “You seek release, but I shall not give it to you until you tell me who hurt you.”
At this, you tried to wriggle away from his grip. “Oh… fuck you!”
“I want that, too,” he said teasingly. “But first, you need to tell me a name.”
He chuckled at the evident agony in your eyes stilling your hips with other hand.
“And you will not be able to have your release by yourself without your hands,” he said, giving your wrists a squeeze. “Your choice.”
Your clit throbbed desperately in between your folds, craving his touch, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek at the sight of his cock drippings strings of precum onto your abdomen.
He was just as desperate to have you, and you were perplexed that he had such self control.
Seeing that you refused to cooperate, he lowered himself into you, his cock pressed down on your clit as your folds enveloped it.
“Gods… just move…” you growled in despair, tugging at your hands in an attempt to break free from his grip.
Surprisingly, he did as you asked, rolling his hips slowly. You tried to mimic the motion just so you could get to your point of no return.
But Aemond knew your body too well. He knew exactly what made you tick, and how your body would respond.
He stopped moving at once, heaving a frantic wail from you as your release got put on hold once more.
“Aegon! I threw a punch at Aegon,” you blurted out in between sobs as your sensitive clit throbbed against his cock. “He was uttering nonsense about you and—”
“You punched my brother?”
You opened your eyes to see surprised on his face, with a hint of amusement. He then released the grip on your wrists and brought one of your hands closer to his face, rubbing your sore knuckles with his thumb.
“That’s my girl,” he laughed, planting a kiss on each knuckle. “You should have told me right away.”
You rolled your eyes. “And you would have gone after him. I want you here… with—”
He immediately cut you off with a burning kiss, and just as quickly, he angled his hips to bury himself inside you.
The overstimulation and denied releases had left your body so sensitive that it was as if everything stung and you had to bite your lip hard to muffle your cries.
He ground mercilessly into you, breaking the kiss and removing the eyepatch.
“Look at me.”
You were met with the sapphire in place of his left eye, and knew that he was close the moment his arms faltered, and he nearly collapsed on top of you, speeding up and gripping your hips as he pumped in a final broken rhythm.
Taking your face in your hands, you had your lips caress the long scar, knowing fully well he had grown used to you showing him how much you adore every single inch of him.
“So tight…” he groaned.
You then watched in marvel as his mouth fell open in a quick hiss as he stilled inside you, filling you to the brim.
Feeling his cock twitching inside you violently as he spilled his cum inside, drove you over the edge until your vision blurred in waves of colours, tearing the room with a sharp cry of pleasure.
Aemond managed to regain some composure as he lifted your lower half and placed a pillow underneath your backside.
“Stay like this for a while,” he said, slowly sliding out of you.
Your breathing came out in erratic pants and you felt him gently pushing inside some of the cum that had spilled with his fingers.
At this pace, it would not be long before your belly would start to swell with his child.
He caressed your face with his hand, as he brought his lips to press a loving kiss to your sweaty forehead.
“Avy jorrāelan.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could return the gesture, Aemond slid off the bed, rapidly getting dressed.
“Where are you going?” you asked, shifting to your side, a gush of cum spilling from you.
“On my way to behead my dear brother.”
You groaned in exasperation. “Aemond!”
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aemondsbabe · 4 months
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Ñuha Zaldrīzes
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summary: future & facesitting || discussing wishes for your baby with your husband turns into something more
pairing: daemon targaryen x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, pregnant reader, oral sex (f receiving), allusions to piv sex, dirty talk, daemon being soft and loving we love to see it, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 1.8k
a/n: happy day eight of 12 days of smuff!!! surely this counts as future otherwise i'd have them fucking in a spaceship & that just didn't sit right with me
12 days of smuff masterlist!
gif creds to @pedropcl
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
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A soft giggle bursts from your lips as Daemon’s hand skirts over your large belly yet again, his soft touches tickling your skin as his hand ghosts lovingly over your bump, the delicate lacy fabric of your nightgown bunched around his wrist. 
“Okay, okay, so,” you say breathily, finally calming down as his touch seems to settle on your hip, “If it’s a little girl, perhaps Vaenera? And for a little boy… Vaenor?” You suggest, your breath warm against the prince’s neck as you rest your cheek against his shoulder, tucked safely into his side atop your silk covered bed. 
“I still think we should name her Visenya,” the blond drawls, tracing soothing patterns into your hip as he holds you against him, “With a nice strong name like that, she will grow to greatness.” 
You stay silent for a moment, your eyes locked onto the fluid movements of the sheer curtains that lead out onto the balcony, watching as they blow in the breeze carried in by the Narrow Sea. Daemon can’t help but notice you still against him and he smiles softly when he sees that familiar, far off look in your eyes – always his dreamer.
“Where did you go?” He asks gently, all traces of the usual brash, cocky tone with which he speaks gone. 
“Nowhere,” you smile, tilting your head up to peer at him through your lashes, “I was merely thinking of what kind of person this little one will grow up to be.” You stroke a hand over your belly as you speak, your smile only growing as you feel a soft, barely there kick against your palm. 
“If they’re even half as kind and gentle as their mother, the world will be a much better place with them in it,” your husband whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A pink blush blooms across the apples of your cheeks, as it always does when he speaks so tenderly. 
“And if they’re half as hard headed as their father, well… somehow, I will love them all the more,” you whisper, laughing yet again as Daemon trails his fingers over your side, tickling you purposefully this time.
“Me, hard headed?” He teases, laughing along with you, “I’m not the one that nearly sent the kitchens into a tailspin this evening when they demanded duck, now am I?” His violet eyes sparkled in the low light of the candles that flickered around the room, a teasing smirk etched across his face.
“That’s very unfair!” You giggle, leaning up to properly look at him. “You know how I am when I’m with child,” you huff, your blush only deepening when you see his eyes darken just slightly as his gaze flits over you, “Especially once it’s this far along; all I want is roast duck and–”
“And lemon cakes at every meal,” Daemon finishes for you, softly smiling, “Yes, sweetling, the entire castle is most aware.” He chuckles. 
“Then the kitchens should know to have duck, that’s all I’m saying…” You grumble, sinking back down into his embrace. The two of you relax into a comfortable silence for many minutes, your husband’s breathing so steady and calm that you assume he’s fallen asleep. When he speaks again, his soft voice almost startles you.
“The kitchens did particularly well with the lemon cakes this evening…”
Your eyebrows furrow together at the statement and you lift your head again, meaning to give him a confused stare. The cakes were exceptionally good this evening, but you can’t help but notice the teasing lilt in his voice.
You open your mouth to speak, but the darkness in Daemon’s eyes gives you pause, a breathy, barely audible whimper escaping your lips before you have a chance to stop it.
“However, I can’t help but be in the mood for a much different type of dessert, little wife.” He says lowly, gently pulling you up until your faces are level, careful to be ever conscious of your growing stomach. 
“Daemon –” You start, only to be cut off with a searing kiss as he presses his lips to yours. You whimper against his lips, your head already spinning in his embrace as his tongue toys with yours.
“It’s been so long,” he starts, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nibbling at one spot that always has you seeing stars, “Since you’ve let me have what I want.”
“H-Husband,” you gasp breathlessly, your nails digging helplessly into his chest as you cling to him, “You had me just this, Gods, this morning for breakfast, if you’ll recall.” You managed to say between whimpers and gasps as he practically feasted on the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands softly kneading and caressing your breasts. 
He makes a small, displeased hum before he pulls back to look at you, his dark eyes studying you carefully before a small smirk grows on his lips, “You know very well that’s not what I’m after.”
Your eyes widen just slightly as you finally catch his meaning; you shake your head with a small chuckle. “Surely you can’t be serious,” your smile fades as he holds your stare with a small, unchanging smirk, “Daemon, I’ll crush you!”
“And what an honorable death that would be, sweet wife,” he chuckles, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he lifts you up and onto his lap, your head spins as you feel his already hard length pressing against you through the thin linen breeches he has on, “I’ll be fine, it’s not as if this is exactly new territory for us…” He teases, gently skirting his hands over your belly. 
“We’ve never done it when I’ve been… like this, though,” you shyly point out, looking down at your bump. 
“Do you really not see how insatiable I become every time you’re with child?” Daemon asks, his voice soft and gentle, “I will only ever have you like this a scant few times. Please, sweetling, let me savor it.”
Biting your lip, you gaze down at him, eyes trailing across his bare chest and shoulders and up the strong column of his neck before they finally settle on his face – the look in his eyes nearly making you gasp. His violet eyes are fixed on you, roaming over your body with so much love and adoration that you feel as if you may melt from it. 
Before you even register the movement, you’re nodding. 
Daemon’s eyes instantly flick up to yours, sparkling with victory. His hands grip your hips again, gently guiding you up his muscular form as he silently thanks the Seven that you wear nothing beneath your Myrish lace nightgowns. A loud groan practically bursts from the prince’s chest once you’re positioned over his face; he loves being surrounded by you — loves the way your soft thighs bracket his head, the way you position your dripping center perfectly over his mouth, and the way the only thing he sees when he looks up is your belly, swollen with his seed, his child. 
If it were up to Daemon, he would happily spend the rest of his days here. 
Your chest heaves as you grip the headboard of the bed, your heart hammering in your chest from the anticipation of it. You whimper softly as his hands, rough from so many years of sword fighting and dragon riding, grab at your thighs and hips. 
He presses soft, sweet kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a slow, steady line up your center; you can feel him smirk triumphantly against you as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. 
“Oh, Gods, Daemon!” You gasp, voice already ragged as you white-knuckle the headboard. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself even a fraction of an inch above your husband’s face, something he notices quite quickly. A displeased growl rumbles from his chest, making you pant as it vibrates against your core.
“Fucking sit,” Daemon rasps, tugging you against his mouth, his tongue roughly spearing into you as he grinds your pearl against his nose, hands moving your hips against his face. 
Your mind all but whites out as he rocks you against him, nose and tongue working in perfect tandem to send shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeeze shut, frantic moans pouring from your mouth as a fire steadily builds within you. 
“H-Husband,” you pant, walls clenching tightly around his tongue as he groans into your heat, “I— Fuck, I’m—!” You can hardly get the words out as Daemon seals his lips around your sensitive bud, suckling it at a maddening pace as his hands move down to cup your ass, kneading it roughly. 
Your face flushes at the slick sounds pouring from between your thighs as the prince growls against you, sounding as if he’s gaining as much satisfaction as you are. Your core clenches at the thought, pleasure threatening to consume you. 
“Daemon!” You cry urgently, shaking above him, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. You want so badly to thread your fingers through his hair as you normally would, but you can’t even see his face around your protruding belly. 
He groans loudly beneath you once more and fucks his tongue back into you, causing the knot in your belly to pull tightly before finally unraveling. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, your back arching as your whole body tenses and relaxes in time with his movements. 
The prince moans appreciatively, messily drinking down your pleasure as you peak on top of him. You jump when one of his hands smacks against your ass, the tingling sting extending your release, the intensity of it nearly making you go mad. 
Finally, once your signs of relief have turned into whimpers of overstimulation, Daemon releases you with a pleased hum, helping you shuffle back down his body until you’re straddling his hips once again. 
You laugh softly at the sight of him — his cheeks flushed a light pink, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a pleased, self-satisfied grin on his face. 
“You look as if you were the one who was ravished, my dragon,” you tease, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you trace over the muscular dips in his chest and stomach.
The prince chuckles lowly, his violet eyes still dark with lust as he takes in your curves. “Ravishing you is a pleasure in and of itself, sweet wife,” he drawls, smirking as you gasp at the feel of his cock against your sensitive core as he rolls his hips against you, “I trust you’ll allow me to feel it again?” He asks, that all too familiar cocky tone back, as if asking is merely a formality. 
Sighing happily, you bite your lip as you stare down at him, the knot in your belly beginning to tighten again as you feel his length pressing hotly to you. 
“I believe that can be arranged.”
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