#ser criston lovers

[ethereallocs]

Eyes On Me Pt 2.-Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Pairing: Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Content/Warning: !!🔞 PLUS ONLY!!, age-gap, p in v penetration, angst, swearing, degradation, domestic violence and smut.

Word Count: 1.6k

Summary: Being deprived of true pleasure, you seek it for yourself…

It had been weeks since Ser Criston had, made love to you that night. He found himself longing for you as he stood just outside your door. You weren’t overindulging and knew that this affair couldn’t be something anyone could ever catch onto…ever. You would leave your chambers grazing your fingers past his just slightly so he knew that your affections were still burning for him. Luckily it seemed your husband, Aegon had occupied himself with another mistress and he was often gone and you were glad of it.

You were sitting under the Godswood reading a book. Peeking over the pages every now and then to watch him. His back turned, but even then he could feel your gaze burning into him. He slightly turned his head to see you out the side of his eye and he smiled just enough for you to see before he turned away. Oh Gods. This was torture you thought. In your frustration you got up and quickly walked off. Hurriedly he followed wondering what he did wrong.

Hitting sharp corners almost losing him he grabbed your arm pulling you into a secluded area. Barely any light within this hall as it was never used. Looking into your eyes his hardened gaze softened. “What is the matter, Princess?” You scoffed in disbelief. “How long has it been since the last time you visited me in my chambers, Ser Cole?” You spoke in a hushed yet irritated tone.

He to was frustrated, but he would not risk your life for his own pleasure. “Do you really think I don’t want to be with you, Y/N? I’ve thought of you before that night and I think of you still. But, I cannot let my feelings ruin your life.” The cool touch from his armored hand rubbed you flushed cheek. You nestled into his touch, looking into those golden eyes that pierced through your very soul. Without warning he pressed his lips against yours hungrily as if he could devour you. You moaned into his mouth, pulling him into you.

“I need you always, I want you always. You are all I think about day and night. Your in my dreams. My heart calls your name.” He whispered intensely in your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive flesh. You whimpered quietly trying keep your voice at bay. He hiked up your skirts gripping your plump ass groaning at how it felt in his hand.

He knew you only had just a few moments, but he needed you desperately. He could keep lying to himself trying to preserve his honor and yours. But, such a sun as this was too good to stop. He turned your back to him loosening his breeches and lifting your skirts realizing you had on no undergarments. Grabbing your throat he groaned into your ear. “What a slutty little deviant you are..” You tremble feeling his already hardened cock rubbing against your soaking slit. You pushed into him begging him to fill you and he obliged.

“Fuck…yesss.” He hissed at how good you held him inside you. Your warmth pulling him in. His hand held onto your hip pushing an arch into your lower back as he hurriedly pounded into you. The soft and quick sounds of his hips snapping against your ass filled the dimmed hall along with your delicious moans. He cooed in delight only to cover you mouth and pull you further into the darkness when the sounds of servants chattering caught his attention.

Even still he continued his assault on that soaking wet cunny of yours. You were in pure ecstasy trembling with each thrust. The way his cock stretched your cunt, the way he quieted you with him being the reason you were so vocal only made you want it more. Soon his strokes quickened as he felt his seed ready to spill and you on the edge of your orgasm. “Yes, give it to me, Princess…give it to me.” He beckoned and you unraveled, your cunt drenching his cock and his breeches and in turn he coated your walls with his seed. Today was not a safe day, but you could careless.

He kissed you passionately pulling away to let you fix your clothes back. You sighed knowing this wouldn’t happen for quite sometime again. He smiled letting you walk out first so no one suspected anything and he followed shortly after. You took the rest of the night in your room exhausted from such exertions.

Morning has came and you awoke with a smile, but something in the back of your mind told you to pull back your sheets and there they were clean sheets. You tried not to panic, but you were trying to breath quickly calling for him. He entered your room wondering if you were alright. Clearly seeing the pink faded from your face he pulled you toward him. “My Princess, what is going on?” You looked to him with tears in your eyes. “I haven’t bled. I think I might be with child..”

His eyes frantic trying to think of a solution and just when you were beginning to panic and hushed you with a kiss. “I have a plan..I need to speak with the Queen. I will return to you shortly.” His kiss calmed you and you watched him walk away. You locked yourself away in your room pacing back and forth until you heard a knock on the door. “Come in..” you called out and it was Queen Alicent.

She usually looked so cold, but looking at you now she seemed so warm; motherly. She grabbed your hands and pulled you in. “I’ve heard of what ails you my child. I know of my sons treatment towards you. And I wish you no more harm. I can get the maesters to make you a tea if you wish to stay or I can get the king to send you away and nullify this marriage so you may be free.” You hugged her tears welling in your eyes. You broke down in her arms thinking you would be condemned by her, but she understood.

“Ser Criston, said he would denounce his knighthood. I can get you on a boat to Dorne in a weeks time. The Targaryens have a friends there of course. And a house that will keep you.” You were in shock. “Why are you helping me? Your family despises mine.” She sighed seeing your mothers face in yours. “I should’ve never let your grandsire seal your fate like this. You’ve always been a sweet and honest girl, Y/N. You do not deserve the cruelty my son bestows upon you.”

“I will write my friends in Dorne so they will know to expect me and I will write my mother so she knows where I am.” She nodded to you and kissed your forehead before she took her leave. Shortly after Ser Criston came inside and the two of you worked on your plan. The days had dragged on and the week couldn’t pass by quick enough.

Everything so far had gone smoothly, with Aegon gone and you being one of Viserys’s favorites he ended the marriage without question. Finally, it was your last day in King’s Landing the boat waiting for you with all your things on board. You were giddy and excited, but a dark cloud would find its way to ruin it for you somehow. Night fell and you were dressed and ready to sneak off into the the night when Aegon barged in grabbing your wrists, slapping you across the face harshly.

“My dear… sweet…wife…you’re leaving me?” He said mockingly. He was seething and red with anger grabbing your chin squeezing his fingers into your cheeks. You cried out struggling. “I..I am no longer your wife, Aegon. Get off of me I need to go.” He laughed his free hand running down the bodice of your dress. “Oh no..not before I give you a parting gift, my love.

“No! No!!” You screaming finally mustering up the courage to fight him off you kneed him in the crotch and ran off through the secret passage way behind the painting in your room. You ran and did not look back scared to see him right behind you if you did. It seemed like the darkness continued forever until you saw the wooden door that led to the outside world.

Opening the door you saw Criston waiting for you he turned back smiling knowing it was you, but it quickly faded seeing your face stained with tears. Before he could speak you warned him. “We need to go..Aegon knows I’m leaving..he attacked me and tried to…I hurt him…” He nodded grabbing your hand lacing his fingers into yours. The two of you hidden beneath your hooded cloaks. He avoided all of the Knight’s watch knowing exactly where they were assigned.

You heard them whispering trying to find your where abouts, but soon you were home free seeing the great boat that was to take you to freedom. He looked back at you with a smile and you were glowing with excitement. The crew was now on their course and you were on deck watching your prison slowly fading away into the distance.

Criston wrapped his arms around you, the lack of armor was a bit strange for the both of you, but it felt good to be free of it all. “I’m going to make you so happy, my Princess. I’m still your sworn protector come what may. After you have our child we will travel all corners of the realm just us.” You turned to face him cupping his face in your soft hands kissing him sweetly.

The two of you were off to your happiness or you would hope for it at least. There was a dragon biding his time waiting to strike…

To be continued…

I hope you enjoyed reading let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next part.

#ser criston x y/n #ser criston cole #ser crispin #ser criston #ser criston lovers #criston cole #criston x reader #hotd fanfic #fic rec #read it #house of the dragon x reader #house targaryen #targaryen #fem reader #ser criston smut #reading #x reader #hotd fandom #hotd series #10/10 reccomend

[dracodazaii]

you CANNOT tell me they don’t look like a couple getting papped by paparazzi here??

dare i say modern crismon slays??

#ser criston cole #criston cole #criston x daemon #daemon x criston #fabien frankel #matt smith #hotd #house of the dragon #asoiaf #game of thrones #got #not shipping irl #but the vibes ARE THERE #enemies turned lovers go SO HARD #criston and daemon are just pathetic lil boytoys and in this essay i-

[vices-aand-virtues]

#sir criston cole #ser criston cole #house of the dragon spoilers #house of the dragon #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x criston #star crossed lovers #lol #my poor baby #hotd #got #source: mean girls #personal #hotd crack #hotd memes

[rosehathaways-sidepiece]

thinking deeply about the similarities shared between criston cole and alicent. the devotion to duty, to doing things the right way, keeping things repressed until you absolutely snap. their reliance on the system of westeros and how it's deviation from the order of things that brings them to the breaking point.

they want very similar things (recognition, status, love, a place to belong in this fucked up society and/or to escape it etc). but criston actively throws away his "honor," meanwhile alicent watches rhaenyra do the same to herself (with some suppressed longing at rhaenyra's sense of freedom, yet simultaneous hatred of how rhaenyra is deviating from The Order of Things). how both of them end up with rhaenyra in their sights as the reason things go wrong. rhaenyra being heir is now a threat to alicent. rhaenyra's rejection is a threat to criston. in the hole rhaenyra leaves behind, they cleave to each other and turn her into an enemy. thinking deeply about both of them

#again the homoerotic subtext between alicent and rhaenyra CANNOT be forgotten in this #criston and alicent and rhaenyra's scorned lovers!!! #even if alicent wouldn't even understand that her feeling for rhaenyra factor into it this way #anyway I spared you all a much long piece of meta than this so be happy akjbgkjsg #I have THINGS to say about criston cole and they are aching to get out #ser criston cole #alicent hightower #hotd spoilers #hotd #house of the dragon #house of the dragon spoilers

[alicentsultana]

Our Hands, Tied Together

You may want to look at this post while or before reading this.

An alicole sonnet.

Hold my hand. Because it's dark and I'm scared of getting lost. 

Hold my hand. Just so I know where you are. 

Keep holding it. I might fall. 

Let me hold it tight. Just so I can try to tell You everything I shouldn't.

Were you holding my hand? When the world was against me? 

Did you kept holding it when I screamed and cried? 

Don't let go. I command you. 

Don't let go. I might plead you to not do so. 

Let go. Just so you can hold others hands in my place. 

If I ever need, will you let me just hold it? Do I need to say anything? Do I need to explain anything? 

Reach out to me. You don't have to say anything. You don't even need to look at me. Just hold my hand. 

I cannot hold or demand more than that. 

I wish. I hide. I will keep hiding it. It's better this way. 

Don't let go. Because if you let go, we will be forced apart. You, sold to death, me, sold to despair. 

#alicole #alicent hightower #ser criston cole #pro team green #hotd #sonnet for silent lovers #i don't regret anything #mine

[bbygirl-aemond]

#two of these are just his lovers being down bad for criston #criston stays his number one enemy and he doesn't even know it #daemon targaryen #viserys targaryen #viserys i targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #criston cole #ser criston cole #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #baela targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys strong #daemon #viserys #viserys i #rhaenyra #criston #ser criston #aegon #aegon ii #aegon the elder #aemond #aemond one eye #jace #jacaerys #jace velaryon #jace strong #baela

[queenielacy]

Imagine Aemond having a male lover…

Aemond experienced little desire in his life. It had been instilled in him since he was a young boy that his desires didn’t matter, duty always trumped desire. His strongest desire, the only one he’d ever given into, was to have a dragon and he lost an eye to satisfy that desire. For him, it had been a fair trade. The few times he had experienced desire since then, it hadn’t been nearly as strong and he quickly figured out that giving in would do nothing for him. He would gain nothing, so he pushed the desire away and continued on his path.

The first time Aemond saw him he felt that same desire bubble up inside of him. It was the same as his desire to claim a dragon, maybe even greater than that desire. This overwhelming need to claim him as his own. The dragon within wouldn’t allow him to ignore the feelings, as any good son should do. Aemond’s thoughts were consumed by him. He dreamt of him and woke with his name on his lips. He couldn’t escape his desire. Aemond, despite his discipline and sense of duty, couldn’t take it anymore and gave into his desires. Luckily, his desire was reciprocated.

Aemond was careful, discreet, with his lover. He knew this behavior was not expected of him and his family (i.e. mother) would not be pleased. His lover also understood the importance of discretion, so it was easy to keep their affair a secret. They spent a long time in the shadows until one night at a royal banquet, Aemond became jealous of the attention his lover received from both men and women. His lover flirted back and danced with some of the women in attendance and the possessive dragon didn’t like that. His annoyance grew every time another man threw his lover a wink or a woman grabbed at his arm. After the banquet, he cornered his lover in a dark hall. He couldn’t wait until they returned to his chambers. His lover scolded him, complaining that someone may see but made no move to push him away. “Good.” Aemond whispered. He didn’t want to share his lover’s attention. He wanted him all to himself. It was only in these moments that he could.

Unfortunately, they were not alone that night. Ser Crispy Criston happen to see them and like a child running to his mother, he went straight to Alicent to tell her what he saw. She couldn’t believe it at first but knew deep down that Criston wouldn’t lie to her, especially about something like this. It was no matter. She was not worried, because Aemond was her good son. The son who, like her, put duty above everything. She blamed herself. It was her fault for not properly explaining why this sort of relationship couldn’t happen. If he was someone else, maybe, but as the second son of the king…She would sit Aemond down and explain her reasoning, and explain his duty, as she had done before on other matters, and Aemond would end whatever was going on between him and the other young man.

That is exactly what Alicent did the next day. She tries her best to ignore the small dark mark poking out from under Aemond’s collar and tells him that she knows about the affair. She explains, without anger or malice in her voice, that this cannot continue. She explains his role, his duty as the second son. His need to marry a highborn lady to form a strong alliance for his brother, so that he may safely come to the throne and rule. A silent moment passes between them and Alicent takes a sip of tea. Aemond often takes a moment to think and process the information after their talks, so his silence isn’t worrying. What is worrying is how calmly and gracefully Aemond says, “No”. Alicent almost spits out her tea at Aemond’s one word reply. She wasn’t expecting that.

The two argue. Alicent yells and Aemond keeps his voice low, but there is an edge to it. Aemond won’t bend and neither will Alicent. She speaks of sacrifice and Aemond reminds her that he’s always done his duty, sacrificed for a brother who doesn’t even want to be king, is not fit to be king. All his brother does is drink and lay with whores. He doesn’t study or train as hard as him. Where is his reminder of duty and sacrifice? They argue in a circle until Aemond makes a quip about Alicent being unhappy, and just because she is unhappy doesn’t mean the rest of them have to be. Alicent slaps him across the face before she knows what she’s done. It’s the only time he’s ever hit her son.

Aemond exits quickly after that and storms through the palace to find his lover. He soon finds him with Helaena. She was the only one that knew about them (before today). She knew they would be together before he did (because visions) as Aemond thinks back to all of the cryptic statements she made before they officially coupled and then the simple “He is good for you, brother” the day after Aemond bedded his lover for the first time. Aemond kisses his lover before he can even speak. He tells his lover that his mother knows about them, and his lover says with a sad smile that the kiss was a goodbye one but Aemond just smirks and kisses him again. This is only the beginning.

Helaena’s smile falters as she stares at her brother and his lover. “A knight steals from the dragon’s nest” The dragon must protect his treasure.

#this popped into my head #could also be for aemond falling for a lowborn or undesirable woman #but I went with male lover because reasons #I imagine his lover is a velaryon #only so Ser crispy can make some remark about him taking after Laenor #Ser crispy threatens that the lover will end up like Laenor and Aemond beats his ass for threatening his lover #and the lover can be like ‘and just like Laenor I’ve secured your precious dragon’ #aemond targaryen #alicent hightower #alicent targaryen #ser criston cole #ser crispin #Ser crispy #aemond x omc #aemond x OC #hotd fanfic #imagine #aemond imagine #aemond fanfiction #hotd #aemond x male reader #Aemond Targaryen x male reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader

[thesadvampire]

I think I've seen this film before, and I didn't like the ending......

#criston and shae scorned lovers club #got shae #tyrion lannister #ser criston cole #rhaenyra targaryen #game of thrones #house of the dragon #asoiaf #house targaryen #house lannister

[ratnumber-3]

ser criston really said "gay rights???? never heard of them" and everyone just let him get away with it

#house of the dragon #hotd 1x05 #rhaenyra targaryen #ser criston cole #laenor velaryon #joffrey lonmouth #criston cole #how dare he #look bud i know that you are down bad #but really #she's the princess what did you expect #laenor didn't deserve to then get married with his lovers blood still fresh of the ground #hotd #my post

[coffincoitus]

it is astonishing how many grown men around rhaenyra were grooming her or having inappropriate feelings for her one way or another. I can't wait to see how/if the show deals with that

#like ser criston seems very gallant rn #i wonder if they'll show him as a full on bitter scorned lover later on #text

[ethereallocs]

Eyes On Me- Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

This is based on a request from @grxce101-blog I hope I did your request Justice.

Pairing: Ser Criston Cole x Targaryen Princess

Content/Warning: !!🔞 PLUS ONLY!!, age-gap, p in v penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, angst, swearing, and smut.

Word count: 2.2k

Summary: Being deprived of true pleasure, you seek it for yourself…

You were one of the youngest of Rhaenyra’s children, but you were her only daughter. In an attempt to build a stronger bond for your house, your grandsire Viserys offered your hand to his oldest son Aegon when you were but a babe. When the time came you and your family were well aware of what Prince Aegon was capable of and the menace he had become within the walls of The Red Keep and it was too late to turn back now.

You and queen were always very close, often seeing her lost innocence within you and promised her knight, Ser Criston Cole to you. And in turn he swore his life, soul, and sword to always protect you. You grew to be a beautiful young maiden inside and out. Regardless of your circumstances you were still so very kindhearted and soft spoken. But, you’d be lying if you said you enjoyed your life. You were either being ignored, by your husband or used like a common breeding whore. Fulfilling his desires and birthing his children, with no care for you wants or your desires.

You often read about love in the many book you found in the library and it left you wanting more. Ser Criston found himself watching you a lot more closer than he should and that wasn’t by much since he was sworn to protect your very life, but he was becoming emotionally attached. He would stand outside of your chambers on those God’s forsaken nights that Aegon decided he would have you and he could hear your pain and it broke his heart every time. It was something he could never get used to.

Such a beautiful soul such as you deserved to be cherished, spoiled, loved, and desired. He would find himself overcompensating for the lack of your husband’s affections. Giving you wildflowers or even just listening to you read. Soon enough he was falling for you, thinking of you constantly. Dreaming of you, fantasizing about you giving yourself to him. He prided himself in how honorable he was, but you were making him question just how important that was to him.

Quickly growing tired of the same routine of being stuck in a loveless marriage you found yourself escaping into the pages of books, imagining yourself being loved and wanted like the maidens in the books. Until one day in search of new material, you stumbled upon an unmarked book. You flipped through a few pages and your pale cheeks flushed and you quickly closed it knowing a lady shouldn’t be reading this type of literature, but your curiosity would get the best of you.

You were like a thief in the night sneaking around like you had truly done something awful, holding the book close to your chest, quickly making your way to your chambers. Criston quickly following after you in confusion trying to understand why you were acting so strange.Tonight your husband was not taking refuge within his own home and you were thankful for it. You could get some privacy. Sitting by the light of fireplace you started skimming through the pages realizing this book was about sex.

You read about a man’s pleasure first, but what really got your attention was the places where they spoke of a woman’s pleasure and something they called an orgasm. “What in the Seven hells is an orgasm?” You spoke out loud, biting your lips at the description of what the act was truly supposed to be like. Not once had Aegon ever asked you did what he was doing to you feel good. Honestly, it did not it hurt most of the time and you normally laid limp while he…finished.

You were in awe and shock as well as anger. Was this really to be your life. A life with no love, not even the smallest thing pleasure. Your pig of a husband deprived you of such and in your anger and defiance you decided she find out what real pleasure was like. Opening your door with a slight crack you called to your knight. “Ser Criston…” He had been standing at your door steadfast looking straight ahead vigilant as always. Hearing your sweet voice call his name he turned slightly to see you there peeking through the door. “Yes, my Princess?” Your hand grabbed his and you tugged at his arm to signal him inside. He hesitated knowing all to well how this could end, but he saw those lilac eyes and that sweet pout of yours and he could not resist your command.

Stepping inside he stood awkwardly and you too never having another man other than your husband alone with you in your room. The two of you sat in silence, Ser Criston clearing his throat to break it before speaking. “What do you need of me, Princess?” You pick up the book you looked puzzled and opened your mouth, but hesitated slightly. “Ser Criston do you know what an orgasm for a woman is?” Red flushing to your cheeks, he almost laughed at how innocent you were. Your eyes wide with curiosity…oh he could teach so many things, but it was not his place. “Y/N, that is not my place to tell you.” He spoke in a sweet tone looking at you like you were the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. You put the book down and twiddled with your fingers dancing around the question you wished to ask.

He watched you closely watching the way you debated with yourself. Should you say it, what if he agreed, or worse what if you got caught. Was this worth it…mustering up the courage you stepped toward him and it spilled out. “You don’t have to tell me, but you can show me. Right?” Eyes of lavender searched for an answer in those sweet brown eyes of his and his breath hitched within his chest. “Princess, I cannot do what it is you ask of me.” The thoughts that already dwell in the back of his mind coming to the surface causing his member to harden.

Going out on a limb you grab his hands wrapping them around your tiny waist and pull him in closer. “Please…” You whisper, looking into his eyes knowing that it could only be him to show her. “I know you hear what happens here in this room and it is not what I want for the rest of my life. I want to know what it feels like to be pleased and not used. Please, Criston even if it’s just once. I promise I will not ask this of you again.”

He had thought of you having you just like this, your body in his hands. You wanting him, needing him so. It was all too much to handle with his cock pressing against his breeches and armor. He was in agony what was he to do, the was treason not to mention you’d be put to death if anyone found out, he could not risk your life. It meant too much to him, but this was a once in a lifetime experience. He might not ever get the chance again.

Your hands cupped his face and his gaze found his way back to you. Leaning forward stopping just as your lips touched he broke the barrier and pressed his lips to yours kissing you feverishly. Pulling you in he almost lifted you off the ground as you moaned into each others mouths. Was this what lust and desire felt like. A warm between your legs began to radiate and the feeling of your slick pooling within your undergarments confirmed it. Ser Criston pulled away to remove the annoying armor that kept him from feeling you entirely and you helped quietly placing it aside.

After he was undressed your eyes scanned over his body. He was beautiful and his cock…well let just say you were in for a hell of a ride. He turned your back to him carefully unlacing the corset of your dress letting the garment pool at your feet. He left you in your chemise and took in how angelic you looked. His strong arms picking you up and carrying you to the bed where he laid you down ever so gently .

His hand resting on either side of your head while he hovered over you while his lips crashed into yours again. It felt like he had sucked all the air from your lungs but you wanted more, he pulled the layer of fabric up from your legs pulling it over your head, throwing it aside, finally seeing the body he dreamt about every single night. “You are breath taking…” Calloused hands ran over your soft skin fingers rolling and pinching your hardened nipples causing a whimper to fall from your lips.

He smiled at how you reacted leaning forward to take the stiff pink flesh between his lips slowly sucking. His left arm curled around you to hold you close while his free hand ran down your stomach until his finger spread open your sticky mound. He groaned in excitement feeling your slick coating his fingers already and he hadn’t even placed them inside yet. Two fingers rubbing circles around the ball of nerves sending shocks of pleasure through you. You gasped and your body twitched as he laid next to you burying his face into your neck leaving sweet kisses along your collar bone.

“May I put my fingers inside, Y/N?” Unable to speak you grabbed his hand pushing it further and he smiled kissing your lips once more and one of his thick fingers entered you starving cunt. Your sounds of pleasure only aroused him more, his cock throbbing so much it was almost painful soon another finger followed and he growled and how tight you squeezed just his fingers he could only imagine how it would feel to bury his cock into you.

“Oh Gods…fuck..” He chuckled. “I never knew you could say something so naughty, Princess.” He teased curling his fingers to hit that spot that he knew would send her over the edge. Her head dropped back and her breathing quickened feeling pressure and pleasure building and intensifying within her stomach. “That’s it, my love let…it…go” You listened and releasing you slick coating his fingers he cooed in delight licking them cleaning savoring the taste. “ohh Criston…”Trailing kisses down your stomach, Ser Criston laid in between your legs, pushing them to your chest.

Your exposed cunny made him smile. You looked ethereal this way the light from the fire illuminated your skin and showing him the aftermath of your first orgasm. He licked the entirety of your cunt with hunger relishing the taste. “So…delicious.” He words dragged his desire to have you growing intensely. Your eyes closed and you looked away causing him smack your inner thigh. “Ah, ah, ah…eyes on me, Princess.” The sudden shock from the smack sent electricity through you and it turned you on more than ever before.

“You are a depraved little minx..so innocent, but so naughty.” He groaned sucking and lapping vigorously until he couldn’t hold himself anymore he needed to fill her with his cock. He was now on top of her his cock lined up at her soaking core . “Are you ready?” You looked into his eyes and nodded. Without another word he pushed into your needy heat moaned at how her tight walls squeezed him so. “oh fuck…Y/N..” His voice shuddered and he kissed your lips slowly rolling his hips into you.

Writhing underneath him you wrapped your arms around his body digging your nails into his back as he made love to you. The sounds of your love making carried and you now knew what it felt like to be wanted and desired. You could feel him fucking all of his love and devotion into you and you wanted more. He flipped over now with you on top of him.

You weren’t use to this new position but the way his cock filled your stomach made you understand how good this position was about to make you feel. Your hips rolled hesitantly his cock hitting the sponges flesh inside you over and over causing you to buck your hips wildly against him. The coil in you stomach tightened with each thrust. He was almost close as well grabbing you hips to slam up into. Pulling you in he kissed you lips quickly pounding up in to that pretty little cunt. The sounds of skin slapping and him stirring up those sticky insides of yours sent him over the edge and you quickly followed. Coming together the two of you didn’t even care that he had just spilled his seed inside of you.

In the glow of your orgasms he held you close and kissed your forehead. “I love you, Y/N. I will follow you to then ends of the realm.” You ran your fingers through his dark tresses kissing him once more before he stood up to get dressed and stand at your door once more. “And I love you..”

I hope you all enjoyed the ride. Let me know how you liked it and if it should be continued…

#ser criston cole #ser crispin #criston x reader #criston cole #ser criston #ser criston x y/n #ser criston lovers #read it #fic rec #highly recommend #request

[lauraneedstochill]

Can't help falling in love

summary: 5 times Aemond was in love with you + 1 time he finally confessed his feelings

warnings: friends to lovers (at the age of 9, 10, 15, 17, 19), a pinch of angst (Aemond healing after losing his eye), but overall so fluffy and sweet you may want to skip dessert

words: ~ 5500 (I got reeeally carried away with that love confession)

1.

Aemond is weeks away from his tenth birthday and he feels as miserable as ever. That feeling is an iron weight upon his heart, his mood irritated and face features grim more often than not. He is still without a dragon — and it’s the only thing he can think of, day and night, steadfast and stubborn in his obsession that most of his family finds to be blown out of proportion. It might have stang him less if only it wasn’t for the constant teasing and pitiful jokes that added to his distress and the never-ending heartache. He learns to keep a straight face and act as if he doesn’t really care, but deep down he does, way more than he’ll ever admit.

His training sessions are a way to channel his anger, and he lashes out at a straw man, again and again, clinging to the thought that, at least in these moments, he is not entirely powerless. He keeps his focus on the target, attentive to Ser Criston’s advice — “Soften your knees”, “Keep your feet light, your hands heavy”, and for a couple of hours he forgets about his misery.

It’s when the training comes to an end, the dreaded realization sinks in again, and Aemond is lost in his thoughts, mindlessly twirling the wooden sword in one hand, his gaze wandering around the yard.

And then his eyes fall on a bright green spot — and all of a sudden, he sees you. A girl of his age, the hem of your green dress a bit dusty, boots covered in dirt, a few strands of hair fallen loose, a coy smile on your face. You meet his gaze and wave at him excitedly.

Aemond looks dumbfounded. A girl in the training yard. Waving at him. He blinks once, twice — and in the next moment, you're standing merely a few steps away, glancing curiously at his sword.

"It looks so hefty! Is it heavy? What is it made of?" a string of questions, your voice sweet and joyful.

There’s a brief pause and maybe you mistake his stiffness for arrogance as you are quick to add:

“Oh, my manners!” gasping but showing no actual regret. “Forgive me,” you curtsy, your smile growing even wider. A timid smile appears on his face in return and he finally comes to his senses.

“It’s made out of red oak. It’s not very heavy, you get used to it,” Aemond raises the sword, letting you take a closer look. Within another blink of an eye he finds himself talking to you, your questions endless and maybe a bit naive but he genuinely enjoys it.

That’s until you both hear a loud cry:

“Lady Y/N!” your nanny comes running in, out of breath and scowling. “I told you not to wander around...,” she chokes on her words at the sight of the young prince. She curtsies, too, but it isn’t nearly as cute as when you do it.

She sprints decisively in your direction:

“It wasn’t very polite of you to interrupt the prince’s training, you little menace!”

And then Aemond, to his own surprise, moves to stand in her way.

”Y/N didn’t interrupt a thing,“ he disagrees, lips thinned into a tight line.

The nanny stops and looks at Aemond dubiously, switching her gaze from him to you.

Ser Criston is the one to resolve the conflict — he comes from behind, with a polite smile plastered on his face.

”Young lady can watch from the balcony. The guests are very much welcomed,“ he calls for the maid to escort you and your nanny up there. While you’re away, he looks at Aemond with a grin:

”Already wooing the ladies, my prince? Let’s hope you are as good with your sword as she thinks you are.“

He does make Aemond work for it but the prince fights back, winning one bout after the other. He keeps glancing at you and you wave at him every single time.

Aemond is too young to know what love is, too shy and guarded to even entertain the thought of it. But when you look at him, with your childish grin and your eyes bright with mirth, he doesn't feel lonely anymore.

2.

It's been two weeks since Aemond lost his eye and he hasn't left the bed once. The pain is still blinding, burning and constantly making his only eye water. But what hurts even more is the humiliating disability. The triumph of claiming Vhagar died down, and now the prince was faced with the harsh reality he needed to adjust to and the process wasn't an easy one. The fever has only recently gone down, leaving his body weak and freezing from the lack of movement, but he couldn't bare the thought of stepping out of the room.

His mother wouldn't leave his side and even Aegon often came to visit, clearly blaming himself for not being there for his little brother. Yet their presence barely brought Aemond any comfort and most of the time he would pretend to be asleep to avoid any conversations. He knew they only meant well and he was being cruel but he couldn't help it as his pride was shattered and he gave in to sadness.

That is until one night he wakes up to a weird sound. He's only half-awake when he hears a vigorous tapping that clearly comes from the outside. Except it's not from the other side of the door — but rather outside his window.

He's startled by this guess and suspiciously walks closer. It takes him a few seconds to focus his gaze and discern a human's silhouette — and then another few to realize that it's you standing on the window sill. He feels like his heart will jump out of his chest as he rushes to open the window.

You climb through and clumsily drop to the floor. But before he can get worried, you are on your feet again, eyeing him with concern.

“Oh, Aemond,” your gaze and voice are both so soft, it makes his lower lip quiver. You carefully approach him and put your hand on his shoulder, gently sliding it on his back in a soothing motion and then cuddling him. He welcomes your company with a sigh of relief. You smell of oranges and you give the best hugs.

"They told me no one was allowed into your chambers," your hushed whisper burns his ear. "The silliest thing I've ever heard!" you pull away from him, still lightly panting, cheeks flushed and hair messy. "I knew I had to find a way to come see you."

You examine his face, frowning at the scar that's still healing.

"Does it hurt?"

He only nods, afraid that if he opens his mouth, he won't be able to hold back a sob. You move closer, resuming the gentle motion of rubbing his back.

Ever since that day in the training yard, you kept in touch, regularly sending each other letters, chatting about everything and nothing, sharing your little secrets and observations. You recently mentioned that your parents allowed you to come see him again, but with the tragic change of events, Aemond completely forgot about the preplanned visit. 

"I will take his eye," you say out of the blue, caressing the unharmed side of his face, your voice laced with anger. Aemond thinks he might've heard it wrong.

"...Whose eye?"

"Luke’s! I shall take his eye, as payment for yours," you tell him with zero hesitation. For a girl of your age, you’re way too eager to plan such a thing, yet he somehow has no doubts that you can actually do it.

Aemond shakes his head:

"You shouldn't," his voice quiet but firm. "The King was very adamant about that, no payment is needed."

"Well, maybe he is too old to think straight," you retort. "You are his son and you lost an eye! Justice must prevail," you tilt your head at him, clearly thinking that you’re in the right.

And he knows that you are but he also knows no justice will be served. It’s the last straw for Aemond — he looks away in shame as tears, hot and angry, start falling down his cheek. You waste no time hugging him again, letting him cry on your shoulder, and the two of you stay like that for what feels like an hour.

And then, in the comfortable silence of your embrace, he hears you asking, very seriously:

"Are you sure I can't take his eye?"

At that moment, he can't stop himself from letting out a laugh — a weak one and barely audible, but still, he laughs, for the first time in two weeks, and you are the sole reason for it. 

Your cheek is pressed to his, your fingers running through his hair, and Aemond realizes he can't lose you.

He begrudgingly persuades you that taking Luke's eye isn't worth the trouble.

3.

By the age of fifteen Aemond becomes quite accustomed to the eyepatch and it gives him a boost of confidence. Losing an eye only made him train harder and his persistence pays off when he’s the one to win, time after time, no matter who his opponent is. His hair grows longer, now silky smooth and with no sign of his boyish curled ends, his face features sharpen. He learns to walk with his head high and hands clasped behind his back, mastering the intimidating look that makes most people want to stay away from the one-eyed prince. 

His tricks could’ve never worked on you, though.

You come to visit him a few times a year, and he eagerly awaits your arrival. All the days in between, you keep talking through letters, them getting longer as you get closer. He keeps those letters locked in a hidden compartment of his table. And sometimes, for no specific reason — or maybe for the reason he can’t yet formulate — he is drawn to reach for them, which always ends with him rereading the letters for hours. Some of them he knows by heart and yet it never stops him from having the pleasure of seeing your handwritten stories and little jokes that were only meant for him.

Today is no exception and Aemond is so enthralled by reading, he almost misses the knock on the door. The sound brings him to reality but he is in no hurry to react. The knocking comes again, and the prince groans, annoyed at the maid's persistence. He carefully puts the letters back and goes to the door, armed with his cold gaze.

And then he opens it — and it's you standing in front of him. 

Aemond barely has time to register what's going on when you launch yourself at him, your arms immediately enveloping him in a tight hug, your laugh ringing in the air. He hugs you back and, while you can't see it, he's grinning from ear to ear.

“I swear you’re getting taller every time we meet!” you look up at him, beaming, and he lets you in. “I soon will need a ladder just to hug you properly".

"I’ll be sure to let my body know of your disapproval," he sneers and you stick out your tongue.

"While you are at it, shall you also work on your friendly face? I overheard the maids being frightened to go into your chambers," you try giving him a scolding look but end up giggling at his reddened cheeks.

"I am friendly enough!"

“Yes, nobody glowers quite like you,” you snicker and flop right on the floor, the move always making him smile. Aemond tried persuading you to sit on any other surface that’s actually meant for sitting but you insisted that his fluffy rug works just as well, so he eventually gave up, deciding to join you. He never complained since.

Before he knows it, he’s immersed in the conversation while you enthusiastically share the recent news and everything that’s happened to you on the road. Only about half an hour in, he notes a small bag you're clasping in your hands.

“You come bearing gifts?”

“Oh, I almost forgot I had it,” you laugh, abashed. “I decided I should bring you something to replace this crumpled-looking thing".

It takes Aemond a minute to realize that you're talking about his eyepatch. But he has no time to protest as you silence him with a gesture of your hand:

“I took it upon myself to count for how long you’ve been wearing this one already,” your tone gets serious. “I must say, that number is disturbing.”

There's a moment of silence and then he clears his throat, his voice unsure:

“Very kind of you to think of that, I shall replace it later on.”

He reaches his hand to take the bag but you quickly cover it with yours, fingers brushing over his, and he freezes.

“Are you still not convinced that I can take a look at it?” you try to make eye contact but he averts your gaze.

“Aemond, I was with you and I think I’ve seen enough back then — none of it scared me.”

“It is not a sight for the faint of heart,'” the prince mumbles, his bravado faltering.

“Well, I don’t remember fainting the first time. You should have more faith in me,” you try to reason, holding his hand.

Aemond ponders for another minute — or maybe ten, he isn't sure, and you patiently wait, not wanting to press him any further. Then he finally makes a decision and, after taking a long, sad sigh, he removes the eyepatch and looks at you, the sight of him is the very definition of insecurity.

You stay silent for about five seconds before concluding:

“Oh, it healed so nicely!” with no hint of uncertainty in your voice. Your smile reassures him a little as you peer at the sapphire, looking very pleased.

"The gem compliments your eye very well," you give him your verdict, taking the new eyepatch out.

"We might have a different understanding of what a compliment is."

"This is me trying to say that I really like the way it looks," you chide him lightly. "And I consider myself to be quite understanding, thank you very much. Will you stop pouting and let me put it on?"

At this point he surrenders, giving you permission, and you move closer, giggling with excitement. You gently fix his hair, making sure it’s all combed back, and then lean to put the eyepatch on. You have a habit of biting your lower lip when you're too concentrated on something, and Aemond can't help but gaze at that part of your face while your teeth graze over the pillowy surface. 

He’s never let anyone this close — and not just in the sense of physical proximity. The moment is very intimate, and the softness of your movements tugs at his heart. He is suddenly very aware of the very short distance separating you two, and he holds his breath. You are oblivious to his stare and soon lean back, satisfied with the result and glaring at him with something akin to fondness.

He wishes he could paint a picture of you right at this moment, so tender and caring and sitting by his side.

He also wishes he could kiss you — and that thought scares him to death. And yet, once it appears, it never goes away.

4.

Aemond is seventeen and his life has been pure torture since you stopped visiting him. He hasn't seen you in over half a year (seven months and eleven days, not that anyone's counting). It's not your fault as your father has unexpectedly fallen ill and you couldn't leave his side. The prince exhausted the maester with questions, asking for advice to write back to you, worried sick that your separation would be stretched for way longer than he could handle.

Luckily, the Gods took pity on him, and he was glad to learn that your father got better, and you will come to the King's Landing soon. Your visit coincided with Aegon's birthday, but Aemond didn't care about the feast, his mind only occupied with the thought of seeing you. He was both nervous and excited to the point of not even hiding it, which led to Aegon teasing him relentlessly. Helaena, on the other hand, wholeheartedly supported Aemond's sympathy for you.

“She will be delighted to see you, too, I am sure of it,” his sister tells him the day before the event.

“But the reason for it might be of a different nature,” Aemond remarks, and Helaena gives him a compassionate look.

“You will never know her true feelings unless you ask,” she encourages. “The two of you are so close, I consider Y/N part of the family.”

Aemond knows that he’s of age and his mother hinted that, despite him showing no interest in courting, some ladies still found him attractive. He dismisses the idea but then finds himself thinking of it from time to time. When the realization forms in his head, it’s nerve-wracking but oh so compelling — he thinks he would’ve really wanted to marry you. He just doesn’t know how to tell you about it.

The day of your arrival comes, and Aemond wakes up at dawn in anticipation, determined to confess his feelings. He tries to come up with a speech, but it feels wrong and sounds weird, and he decides it will be better to improvise. He all but runs to the courtyard to be the first one to greet you. However, when you step out of the carriage, smoothing your dress, and your eyes meet, Aemond stops dead in his tracks and the world around him stands still.

His confidence might’ve blossomed — but not nearly as much as your beauty did. Somehow in those recent months, you’ve matured into a woman that takes his breath away.

It’s not a drastic change, it's all in the details: the contours of your face are more defined, the cheekbones prominent, your hair knotted up high in a perfect style and even your pace is much slower and gracious. You walk towards one another, both suddenly cautious. But when you are a couple of meters apart, a well-known smile appears on your face and you hold your arms out to him and he finally hugs you again, after all this time. Aemond relaxes, inhaling the familiar scent of fruits that you undoubtedly munched on your way here.

“You look exactly as I remembered you,” you say as you slip from his embrace.

“And you are a sight to behold,” he breathes out, taking you in, and your cheeks heat up at the compliment. You’ve never been shy with him before, so this is also new. He wonders what might’ve caused this change.

As the two of you walk around the castle, it feels a bit awkward at first, and you keep glancing at him with emotion he can’t read. But Aemond is too happy to see you to give it much thought, and within an hour you ease into the conversation, too. By the time the evening comes, the tension disappears, and you are laughing at his sarcastic remarks again, and he savors every second of it.

The feast in honor of Aegon is lush and crowded, but you stay by Aemond’s side, enjoying each other’s company, and he only has eye for you. When the music gets too loud, you sneak out and soon find yourselves in his chambers, just like in the good old days. Aemond is in the middle of telling you about Aegon’s recent foray to the Flea Bottom, when you say:

“It’s just the two of us,” your fingers sink into the fluffy rug. “You don’t have to wear it with me. You know it, right?”

He wears the eyepatch with everyone, only taking it off before going to sleep. Moreover, he actually cherishes it because it’s a gift from you. Aemond hesitates:

“I thought you quite liked it.”

“I only gave it to you because yours started to look like it was pulled off a dead man’s body!” you laugh.

Before he can think of an answer, you lean closer — your shoulder brushing his, your hand touching his face, the same gentle warmth he remembers so well, — and remove the eyepatch yourself. The sight doesn’t bother you in the slightest as you confess:

“I accept you the way you are, Aemond,” and then, a moment away from him opening his mouth and saying the thing that’s been on the tip of his tongue for the duration of the day, you add: “That’s what friends are for — and you are my best friend.”

And just like that, with this word alone, his plan goes out the window.

A friend. Aemond can’t even be upset at the reveal, because, honestly, being your friend feels like a blessing in itself and he wouldn’t trade it for the world. How could he be so selfish and foolish to even think about risking it all, risk losing you?

So he keeps his feelings to himself, locking them away deep in his heart, and doesn't argue with you.

Maybe he should have.

5.

By the age of nineteen Aemond reaches the conclusion that he wants to take the risk. Otherwise, he thinks he might actually die as his heart can not hold all his feelings anymore. In two years' time, there isn’t a single thing about you that he hasn’t come to love, and keeping it a secret becomes harder with each day.

Aemond is ridden with doubts to the point where he can't hide it any longer and he decides to seek advice — and the prince can't think of a better person to talk to than his mother. Unbeknownst to him, Alicent was the first one to notice. Years ago, when you were kids, she quickly sensed the effect you had on her son, and it brought her joy as she watched the two of you get closer with time.

So when Aemond bursts into her room, anxiety radiating off of him as he starts jabbering away, his pacing erratic and voice trembling, it takes her about a minute to realize what's going on.

“My dear, I think you must talk to Y/N,” she approaches him, an understanding look on her face.

Aemond cuts his speech short, eyeing her with wonder:

“You don't seem surprised.”

“Your affection for her is as bright as a fire blazing,” Alicent chuckles. “I believe Y/N is the only one who doesn’t see it.”

“Should I tell her...?” he doesn’t dare say it out loud, not yet.

Alicent briefly takes his hands in hers, squeezing them.

“You should tell her the truth.”

Her encouragement gives him a dash of hope, lifting a weight off his chest. Aemond knows in an instant that the letter won’t cut it, and you must have the conversation face-to-face. Fortunately, your next visit is in a month, so his suffering won’t last for much longer.

Aemond almost reaches the door but then sharply turns to his mother again, his cheeks flushed:

“Will you give me your approval?” and this time, he looks straight at her as he wants to see her genuine reaction.

Alicent smiles, quick to reassure him:

“Yes, Aemond. Your betrothal would only make me happy.”

The prince feels elated, almost euphoric, as he finally goes to meet you and runs the remaining distance from his chambers to the yard. But when he sees you, the smile disappears from his face because he notices that something is wrong.

You look visibly upset, your eyes watering and fingers fumbling with the dress, even though you try to force a smile in return. The hug you give him is weak and you keep looking at your feet.

“What is the matter?” he’s never seen you this sad, but you brush him off.

“It’s just a headache, no need to worry.”

Yet that’s exactly what he does, offering to call for the maester, or to prepare you a warm bath, or bring you some tea...

“A cup of water would be nice, thank you,” he leaves you in the hallway to go and get it himself, the task only takes a couple of minutes. When he returns, you stand with your back to him, your shoulders are shaking — and he hears quiet, muffled sobs. If it wasn’t for the nearby table, he would’ve thrown the cup away, his focus on you alone. As he rushes to envelop you in a hug, you don’t fight it, instead nestling your face against his chest, not hiding your tears anymore.

Aemond gives you some time before asking again:

“This doesn’t look like just a headache. What is the cause of your anguish?” now he’s the one running his fingers up and down your back.

You let out a sound that’s a mix between a groan and a whine.

“My father says I am to be betrothed soon. He says I am of age already and... and he wants me to meet some of my cousins,” you sniffle. “I told him I have no wish to get married but he refuses to listen,” you bite your lip, not wanting to cry again.

Surely, that’s not how Aemond wanted to ask you. But he decides to take his chance.

“Mayhaps there is another way out that could make you feel better.”

“Please don’t tell me Vhagar will burn them down,” you jest but the smile doesn’t reach your eyes. Aemond thinks your idea isn’t that bad — but he has to try his first.

“If he insists you should marry but doesn’t have a particular candidate, maybe you can pick one yourself?”

“I’ve met all my cousins — and half of them are imbeciles, the others are too old to survive a wedding,” you scoff.

“Then pick someone you are not related to,” Aemond suggests.

“Do you have a particular candidate in mind?” when you ask with a tinge of annoyance, you don’t think he will answer. And then you look at him — and see him grinning before he says:

“Me”.

You glare at Aemond with eyes wide and mouth agape, the expression frozen on your face for a good minute. 

“Are you laughing at me?” you manage to say.

“I wouldn’t dare,” his nerves are as tight as a wound-up string.

In the blink of a moment, your face lights up. You're looking at him indecisively, searching for words, agitated. But Aemond mistakes your confusion for rejection.

“At the very least you will marry someone you know,” he tries to reason — but it backfires, wiping the joyfulness off your face. Taken aback, you inquire:

“You pity me?”

He doesn’t grasp the poor choice of his words yet.

 “You pity me and that’s why you want to marry me?” you give him a look of disbelief, your eyes glossy, and he can't get his head around what just happened.

“Oh, it was so silly of me to think that...,” you choke back a sob, putting your hand over your mouth.

Never in his life he thought he would be the reason for you looking so heartbroken. Aemond covers your hand with his palm — and you let him, as he tries to gather his courage.

“Y/N, I only meant to say that I —”

And then you recoil, snapping your hand back.

“Aemond, don’t,” you take a step back from him, then another one. “You have said enough. Please, let me be,” you turn away and leave the hall in a hurry before he can utter another word.

... 1.

He finds you at your usual spot, under the blossoming cherry tree. You’ve always said you liked the color of it, little white flowers reminding you of early spring, your favorite time of the year. You don’t know that Aemond insisted on planting that tree specifically for you. Just so he can sit nearby and, as you were basking in the sunlight with your eyes closed, he would get a chance to look at you with all his unconditional love and have those moments engraved in his memory.

Come to think of it, he had so many memories of you — and every single one of them was bliss, and he can recall them so easily like it was yesterday.

And so he does.

“When we first met, you wore a green dress,” his voice startles you, but you don’t turn to face him, sniffling with your arms folded. “It was the color of forest trees. Black lace around the hem of it, the matching hair ribbon that you kept losing,“ he keeps his distance, his hands shaking.

"Yes, I remember it pretty well," you sigh, avoiding his gaze, baffled by his sudden outburst.

"The second time was when you climbed through my window, almost gave me a heart attack," there’s a hint of a smile in his voice that you catch even without looking. "Blue dress, you tore a huge piece of it and couldn’t care less. You were the first person to make me laugh in two weeks even though it seemed impossible. But not with you."

He sees your eyebrows furrowing, hands sliding down to rest on your knees.

"Helaena’s name day came next, your dress was bright pink. Luke tried to make fun of it and you threw a cup full of water in his face. To this day, it’s one of my fondest memories."

You dare to look up at him, perplexed, your eyes wet from crying. 

"Three months after was the light-blue dress, then the peach one and the brown one. Then the white one which didn’t survive the horse riding lesson, and Helaena gave you one of hers. Light green, too long for your liking, even though you pretended otherwise to please her," the corners of your lips tremble, your face softening.

"Then for a year you only wore violet, much to your nanny’s dismay as she thought it made you look ill. And I thought you were the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, no matter what dress you were in," he can’t take his eye off you.

Your face expression melts into a stunned one.

"I didn’t realize it back then. Or maybe I didn’t know how to call it. I just knew that your visits only brought me happiness," he takes a step toward you, uncertain, but you don’t move from your spot.

"When you were fourteen, you picked the autumn colors — orange, dark yellow, deep red. Your started braiding your hair, tried to braid mine," you can’t hold back a smile. He was fussy when you first voiced the idea but he ended up loving the process so much, he would allow it just to feel your fingers flowing through his hair.

"I think you actually enjoyed it", you mumble, and Aemond smiles, too.

"I did. I enjoyed every minute that I got to spend with you."

You stand up then, feeling your pulse quickening.

"The day you brought me the eyepatch, you wore emerald green. I was terrified to show you the scar," he pauses, catching his breath. "You assuaged my fears with your kindness. But then I was terrified to learn that I wanted to kiss you". 

You think you are dreaming. Is it possible that you fell asleep under the tree? You don’t want to get your hopes too high, but when he looks at you like this, your own fears start melting away.

“Then was the black dress, the grey one, another white one. The golden one you wore to meet Vhagar,” when he saw you that day, he almost forgot how to breathe. You showed no sigh of apprehension as you fearlessly approached the dragon. He was absolutely besotted.

“And then came the agony of not seeing you for over seven months,” he closes his eye for a second, overwhelmed. He almost misses it when you speak:

“Seven months and twenty-five days. Not that I was counting,” his eye snaps open, instantly on you again.

You gravitate toward each other without even noticing. Aemond’s heart skips a beat when you’re at arm's length, your eyes shining and lips slightly parted. Even in the state you're in, you look so beautiful, it's mesmerizing, and the words are stuck in his throat. You are the one to break the silence:

"Aemond, please don't give me false hope," your heartbeat is too loud, you don't hear your own voice. He does.

"I do not wish to marry you out of pity," Aemond takes the last step. "I want you to be my wife because I'm in love with you," he wipes away the remaining tears off your face, his fingers linger, making you shiver. "I've been in love with you for quite some time. For a few years, actually," his voice gets low. "For what feels like an eternity," Aemond murmurs.

"Why haven't you told me?" you pout, nervously toying with the collar of his shirt.

"I was afraid you didn't feel the same. I still am but maybe... Maybe I am wrong?" his gaze is fixed on you, one of his hands following the contour of your waist, your body warming at the touch.

"Tell me that I am wrong," he whispers, begging.

You look at his lips, the soft curve of them that you’ve dreamt of for so long.

Aemond always thought yours were the most kissable he’s ever seen.

You don’t know who closes the distance first — but his mouth is suddenly on yours and the sensation leaves you disarmed. Kissing him is like being swept with a wave of tenderness, and you’re floating in it, his lips so fervid and supple — truly perfect — your head is spinning. The kiss is not awkward nor modest as you hastily cling to each other, his hands gripping your waist, your chest pressed into his.

Aemond feels like he’s drowning, and he wants more of you — all of you, and then your fingers tug at his locks, eliciting a groan from him, and it is simply a miracle that his heart doesn’t explode. You move in impeccable sync, in the passionate harmony that erupts from years worth of mutual pining. His lungs burn but he resists the urge to break the kiss and stretches it out the best he can until you are breathless, too.

"Never knew that you were so fascinated by my wardrobe choices," you tease, and his hum turns into a chuckle.

“You know what my favorite memory is?” you ask, your forehead resting against his.

“When we were thirteen, and you were teaching me how to hold a sword. I tackled you to the ground and scraped my knee,” you both smile at your then enthusiasm. “And you set everything aside to spend the rest of the day with me even though it was hardly a wound. And I remember thinking,” you hook your finger under his chin, “that there’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you, with this favorite boy of mine.”

The air around you tense, and you are enchanted by each other.

“Did that help to prove you wrong?”

“I may need some convincing,” his breath fanning over your lips.

“You can take your time,” you laugh — and then the sound of it is muffled by his athirst mouth.

His favorite memory will be this.

And every other moment with you that's to come.

author's note: I'm sorry if this came out messy and rushed. I tried my best to write a shorter fic (this is short for me lmao) and idk how I feel about it. I much rather prefer them longer because I'm a sucker for stories about two people getting to know each other and falling in love BUT I get it that others don't want to read long ass fics (which kinda breaks my heart but I'm being so very brave about it) anyways, I hope this was bearable, thank you for reading!

💙 the longer version of this fic might have looked like this (yes, this is a shameless plug! because I adore this one to pieces!! bite me) 💞 my masterlist 🎵 the title is a quote from Elvis Presley's song (duh). there are quite a few covers of it but one of my favorites is by Twenty One Pilots. there's also a female version — by Ingrid Michaelson — and I think both of them fit the story really well. P.S. I'm also on AO3 (lol, who isn't), in case you prefer to read fics there.

English is not my first language, so feel free to message me if you spot any major mistakes!

#aemond targaryen #got the idea out of the blue (oh the things I do instead of sleeping...) #wrote it in two days #pretty sure it's once in a year kind of miracle #my expectations are low though and I will probably never write anything like this again lmao #anyways I think I should get back to actually adding the tags and shut tf up #here’s a SPECIAL tag that I call 'the woman Aemond is in love with stands up for him' #I already used this trope twice and WILL use it again watch me #my stuff #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond one eye x y/n #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfics #aemond targaryen fics #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfiction

[rosehathaways-sidepiece]

okay but alicent/rhaenyra/criston is THE ot3 of the series (in my mind at least)

#am I only posting this because I've had a drink? maybe #and I right? ABSOLUTELY #it's giving obsession it's giving scorned lovers it's giving that bisexual anne hathaway pic you know which one I mean #alicent hightower #rhaenyra targaryen #ser criston cole #hotd

[aemonds-sapphire]

Punishment

Summary: Ser Erryk makes the mistake of looking for too long at you and Aemond makes sure he pays for it.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Jealous/Possessive Aemond. Exhibitionism. “Just the tip”. Dry humping. Creampie.

A/N: If you recognise this is because it’s a rework of a short fic I posted a few days ago. I added a smut scene and some other minor changes. Hope you like it!

A/N2: Can be read as part 2 of “Precious Stones”, but also as a stand-alone.

Word count: 2.5k

“Ask Ser Erryk if he wishes to preserve all his limbs intact.”

“My prince?”

“You heard what I said, Cole.”

To anyone unaware of what had provoked such serious solicitation, it would seem that Prince Aemond was merely poking fun.

But Aemond does not fool around when it comes to what belongs to him.

You swallowed your wine quietly, crossing eyes with Ser Erryk Cargyll whose stare was bold enough to have your heart clench.

And it was not because you welcomed the daring attention, but because you knew Aemond wouldn’t.

Aemond Targaryen had made his claim, and anyone who dared defy him would face the consequences.

You watched as Ser Criston Cole walked towards Ser Erryk to deliver the prince’s message.

His reaction was appalling.

The young member of the Kingsguard, entrusted with protecting Prince Aegon, decided that scoffing and chuckling was an appropriate way to respond to Aemond.

How wrong he was.

Sitting beside you, Aemond shifted in his seat, eye fixed on the man in front of him. “What is so amusing, Ser Erryk?”

You thanked the Gods that the king and queen were absent from supper, but you weren’t as fortunate when it came to Aegon.

“Oh, this ought to be good,” said the young prince, relishing in the eminent conflict.

Ser Erryk dropped his smile at once. “Nothing, my prince.”

“So you laugh at nothing? That is… concerning.”

Aemond was an expert where taunting others was concerned. He would know just what to say and how to say it, in order to set anyone off, ultimately prevailing as his skill with sword matched his words.

The silence was so thick you could hear the flames flickering on the candlesticks and the wind wailing angrily outside.

“Aemond…” you began, placing one hand on his thigh.

“Give me one reason not to behead you.”

Ser Criston Cole was tense through and through. “Prince Aemond, what happ—”

“Now why would you behead Ser Erryk, dear brother?” Aegon spoke, visibly amused. “Is my safety of no concern to you?”

Oh Gods…

Helaena would have no part in this, and simply kept to herself, lowered gaze and focused on downing the food in her plate.

“Stay out of this,” Aemond said calmly, his eye never leaving Ser Erryk.

A wise person would have followed this warning, but Aegon was not wise. In fact, he was a fool who thought himself to be wise. And there was no bigger foolery.

“I shall not,” Aegon voiced his indignation. “What is his crime, brother? Staring at her?”

Cold sweat ran down the back of your neck as you felt his eyes on you.

“Prince Aemond, I meant no disrespect,” Ser Erryk said as dutifully as possible given the current situation. “I apologise.”

Aemond gripped your hand tightly. Even though he excelled at keeping his composure, he had difficulty reining in his feelings when it came to those he cared about.

Aegon huffed in annoyance, twirling the fork in between his fingers. “Ruining our meal over some wench… I mean, really, Aemond…”

At this, your lover rose to his feet, banging his fist on the wooden table, nearly spilling the glasses of wine in the process.

But his anger wasn’t aimed at Aegon and his infantile demeanor.

After all, the cause of such commotion was far simpler.

Ser Erryk had made a mistake, and now he would pay for it.

“I may have lost an eye,” he told the kingsguard, voice dripping with poison. “But you are the one who is too blind to see that there is no scenario in which you come out victorious.”

The man responsible for prince Aegon’s well-being swallowed hard, but stood his ground, not showing anything other than respect for the dragon prince.

“Prince Aemond,” Ser Criston spoke once again. “Let us all calm down. I will make sure nothing of the sort happens again.”

Aemond chuckled. “First and final warning. Next time, you will not be so fortunate should you glance in her direction again.”

The young man nodded, staying silent.

“Mother will be delighted to know you’re threatening to kill my protector because of our sister’s lady-in-waiting,” Aegon said, clearly wanting to provoke his younger brother.

Aemond snapped his head at him. “If your own protection was of any concern to you, you wouldn’t dismiss his services so you can disappear into Flea Bottom,” a smile curved his lips as Aegon’s face dropped. “Do tell mother. Tell her that my flaw is caring for those I love, as she does. See how far that will get you, dear brother.”

Aegon’s eyes shot daggers at his younger brother in silence, and you vaguely wondered why he hadn’t snapped at his words.

But then again, Aegon thrived for simpler things in life other than picking fights with someone who could best him in whatever weapon of choice they’d decide to wield: sword or words.

As such, the rest of supper remained uneventful, with Aemond keeping one hand firmly on your thigh at all times.

That sense of belonging swept you off your feet completely.

Knowing that Aemond would not hesitate to let others know how strongly he felt about you.

By the time all cups and plates were emptied, Aegon left his seat, waving one hand dismissively at Ser Erryk as he exited the dining hall, proving once more that Aemond’s words had been true.

Aemond scoffed, raising to his feet while taking your hand in his. “Shall we?”

Heat flared in your cheeks as he tightened his grip lightly on you.

Nodding, you crossed eyes with Helaena. “I shall meet you in your bedchambers, my lady.”

Her eyes dropped to the sapphire necklace you had put on and she curled her lips into a warm smile.

Aemond held your hand closely as he paced across the room, until he was standing in front of Ser Erryk.

“Seeing that my brother won’t require your services, may I make use of them?”

It was a simple inquiry and it sounded innocent enough coming from him, but the look on Ser Erryk was far more revealing.

Criston Cole shared the sentiment, stepping between both of them. “Prince Aemond, I-"

Aemond heaved an audible sigh that effectively silenced him. “Ser Criston, you forget I’m skilled with my dagger,” he said, removing the blade from its sheath, twirling it effortlessly in his fingers. “If I wished to bring harm to Ser Erryk, I would have done so before you could blink.”

The young member of the Kingsguard did not seem all that convinced, but stepped aside regardless.

A mischievous smile danced on Aemond’s lips as he sheathed the dagger.

The sudden realisation that he was up to something suddenly hit you.

Never letting go of his hold on you, the three of you paced quietly along the vast corridors of the Red Keep.

There was certainly no need for Ser Erryk’s services and, for a fleeting moment, you wondered if Aemond actually intended to harm the young man.

But your fears vanished quickly when you reached the door to his bedchambers and watched as Aemond asked him to stand guard.

Ser Erryk held a blank expression, not daring to look at you.

Your lover let go of you hand and you felt him get behind you, pressing both hands on your shoulder.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

As soon as those words left his lips you turned to face him, embarrassed washing over you. “Aemond!”

One hand slid to your neck, slowly bringing his warm fingers to angle it, exposing more skin to his touch.

“Answer the question, Ser Erryk,” he said, caressing you with his thumb. “You may look at her now.”

His face hardened before your eyes, and he swallowed hard, probably thinking it was bait.

Embarrassment eventually subsided and made way for a fluttering sensation in your stomach as Aemond’s tender caressed kept you yearning for more.

Ser Erryk eventually turned his gaze to you. “Yes, she is, my prince.”

A low chuckle escaped Aemond’s lips before pressing a soft kiss to the crook of your neck.

Your eyes immediately fluttered shut and you thanked the Gods that his hold on your shoulder was enough to ground you, for your knees momentarily faltered.

He lingered for a while before drawing back, leaving a wet spot that made you shiver. “Do you trust me?” Aemond whispered in your ear.

You shouldn’t.

You couldn’t

But you wanted to.

Just to see how far he’d go to make you his.

“Yes.”

You open your eyes only to be met with Ser Erryk’s that seemed to be fixed on you.

“Ser Erryk,” Aemond said in between scorching kisses to your skin. “Would you want to touch her?”

The young man blinked in confusion. “My prince?”

“Oh, do not misunderstand,” he said and you could feel his smile. “It is not an offer.”

The hand on your shoulder moved to your belly before he settles his forearm right under your breasts, pulling you into his embrace and sealing your heated skin of with another kiss.

“Answer it.”

Through half-closed eyes you watched Ser Erryk swallow, visibly unsure of how to react. “No, my prince.”

Aemond scoffed, pulling you even closer, until you started to feel the outline of his cock being pressed firmly against your ass. You parted your lips, unable to control your breathing as pleasure overtook your senses.

His breath fanned your neck one last time before he let go of you at once.

“Ser Erryk, you are to guard this door.”

He threw one last look at you, straightening himself.

Aemond swung the door open and pulled you in, and before you could process whatever was happening, he had you pinned against the wooden boards until the foor slammed shut.

“Aemond…”

But he would have none of your words.

Hunger and possessiveness commanded the kiss he took from you, framing your hand with his strong hands, and grunting from having his cock rubbing against you.

He tore his lips away, ruffling the fabric of your dress up your thighs. “Legs around me. Now.”

The sense of urgency in his voice jolted you, but you immediately wrapped one leg first and once he had it secured with one hand, you lifted the other, immediately bringing your core into contact with his strained cock.

Aemond immediately bucked his hips into you, purely out of reflex, and you moaned as he held your jaw with his hand, forcing you to gaze at him.

“He’s… outside… my prince,” you managed to breathe out, nearly rolling your eyes when the fabric of his pants rubbed against your throbbing clit.

“And he will know I’m the only men who is ever allowed to have you,” he said before pressing hurried kisses along your jawline. “He will hear it.”

Lust had taken over and guided your body to sway alongside his, welcoming his desperate thrusts and your own need to quench the thirst you had for this man.

Your eyes had fluttered shut when his took your lips in his, but quickly snapped open at the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn.

Aemond had removed his eyepatch and his stare nearly took your breath away as he lifted his dagger to rest on the sapphire necklace he had gifted you.

You widened your eyes and let out a gasp once he dragged the cool metal along you skin, careful enough not to hurt you, settling it on the neckline of your dress.

“Do you trust me?” he asked for the second time that night.

You bit your lip, staring into his own sapphire. “No.”

“Allow me to change your mind.”

And with no further warning, he slide the dagger into your dress ripping it at the front, the tearing sound filling your ears.

You watched in shock as he threw the dagger to the blade to the floor.

Had Ser Erryk heard it too?

Even if he had missed it, he surely wouldn’t be able to miss the obscene noise of Aemond latching on to an exposed nipple, desperately sucking on it.

“Aemond…” you gasped, feeling your own wetness starting to coat your folds. “Aemond… Aemond…”

You kept on repeating his name like a prayer, not sure whether you were urging him or simply too lost in your own pleasure to say anything else.

He grunted as he rolled your nipple in between his teeth teasingly.

It was your time to snap your hips into his, and he immediately halted his ministrations to let out the most delicious growl you had ever heard.

“The many times I have wished to take you like this,” he whispered into your lips, rolling his clothed cock against you, one hand resting on the sapphire necklace. “You’re mine.”

A deep moan filled the room joining the rhythm sound of your body being slammed against the wooden door, certainly letting the man on the other side know the how it sounded to defy Aemond Targaryen and what he deemed as his.

“Ask him,” Aemond suddenly whispered as he fumbled with his pants.

“What…”

His hand finally managed to spring his cock free and, wasting no time, he pressed it on top of your soaked folds, applying just enough pressure until it sank in between them, relishing in your wetness.

“Tell him who you belong to,” he managed to say in between heavy pants.

As if to serve as motivation, he moved his hips to have his cock sliding up and down, the underside rubbing your clit.

“Ser Erryk…” you said, grasping his shoulders with both hands to keep the balance. “Ser Erryk…”

“Yes, my lady?”

His voice was low but firm, and you nearly let out a another breathy moan when Aemond brought his lips to your neck, sucking soundly.

“Who.. who..” your voiced died in your throat as the young prince’s cock relentlessly collected your wetness and spread it. “Who do I belong to…”

The member of the Kingsguard cleared his throat. “To… prince Aemond.”

Aemond removed his lips from your skin and planted a kiss. “Just marking you. Ser already Erryk knows you’re mine, and now others will, too.”

At this point you immediately realised you weren’t going to last much longer. Between his thick cock rubbing steadily into you and his words of lust, you knew your body wasn’t meant to withstand the unbearable level of pleasure.

You reached your peak first, crying out his name and pressing your head firmly against the door as your body rolled and your walls clenched around nothing.

Aemond pressed his forehead to the door, panting heavily into your ear. “Let me… just the tip…”

“Gods!” You sobbed as pleasured blinded your vision.

You felt him quickly shift under you, and gasped loudly once you felt him push the head of his cock into you.

Your legs quivered reflexively as he spilled profanities in High Valyrian as your walls clamped around him, rhythmically pushing him over the edge.

By the time Aemond went over the edge, you had already descended from your high, but still managed to find bliss in feeling the hot spurts of cum dripping from you.

Aemond threw his head back and his lips parted in a loud growl that you were sure would be heard across half of the Red Keep.

Both of you were left panting and by the time he had let you slide off his waist, you were able to feel the droplets of his released coating your folds and sliding down your thighs.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond x you #hotd smut

[endless-ineffabilities]

without you, I would not be (Daemon Targaryen x f!Reader)

An outsider growing up alongside the Targaryens, the reader is like family. For Daemon, maybe even more. She gets injured one day, and his affections finally come to light.

word count: 1.6k ▪︎ masterlist

themes/warnings: protective!daemon, friends to lovers, fluff, cursing

series coming soon!

Daemon was fuming. He was a collected person by nature, content with allowing chaos to simply unfold, especially if he had a hand in it. But now and again, his fire reveals itself in acts of passion or calculated transgression. The prince, albeit admired by all, has earned quite a reputation that made him intimidating. Powerful. An alluring enigma.

And in that moment, as he rushedly strode through the hallways, he was beside himself with anger. You had been hurt.

You, the object of all of his affection. His heart’s eternal flame. Not that he ever told you this, of course.

Daemon liked keeping his desires close to his chest. He did not act upon them unless he was sure, and he’s always been sure of you. But for the first time, he was unsure of himself.

He knew what he was, impulsive and dangerous. And you… you were too good for him. Perfect.

All these years, you had grown up alongside Rhaenyra, becoming like a beloved elder sister, and a most-trusted friend and ally. Being an orphaned princess of one of the great houses of Old Valyria, the Targaryens took you under their wing. You became family, almost a Targaryen yourself.

Daemon had also become a close figure, a constant protector and somewhat more than a friend. He liked to press you, infuriate you at times, but you knew it was all out of love. Rhaenyra liked to tease you about her uncle’s apparent admiration for you, but you always pushed it aside.

Surely Daemon doesn’t see you that way. Nearly each night, he had his pick of the finest men and women in the kingdom, the paramour of all those who came and went by his quarters in the late hours. Why would he desire someone younger, someone quite inexperienced as you?

Still, you hoped. Because deny it as you might, you still saw. His lingering gaze, the way his hand gently tightens on your waist, the playful remarks. If it all confirmed what Rhaenyra insinuated, then you wanted him too.

That morning, in one of the combat exercises in the courtyard, you convinced them to let you join in. It has never been customary for princesses to engage in such activities, but you enjoyed them. You enjoyed the rush that swordplay gave you.

This was another reason why Daemon and yourself grew so close. He would train you in secret, away from prying eyes, and over the years, your improvement can mainly be attributed to him.

However, as much of a great swordswoman as you have become, you had been injured that day in the courtyard. You had taken a misstep, which resulted in Ser Criston running his sword over you arm, a long gash running down its side. The Kingsguard hurriedly took him away from you, but you commanded them to stand down. It was a mere accident, after all.

Afterward, you sat in your quarters, being tended to by the maester. Rhaenyra joined you there, too, making sure that you were alright.

“Make sure you sew that nicely,” she said, hovering over the maester, “I don’t want her stitches to suddenly come apart.”

“He knows what he’s doing, Rhae,” you said affectionately, flinching a little at the needle going through, “It should heal quickly, anyway. It wasn’t that deep.”

“We should put that Ser Criston through the ringer,” she pointed out, “Have father conduct a beheading in the next ceremony.”

“Oh yeah, it’s been quite a long time since the last beheading. We have been left wanting,” you smile, going along with it.

A moment passes, and when you see the shocked expression on the maester’s face, the both of you exploded into a fit of laughter.

This was how you and Rhaenyra always have been. Two mischievous peas in a pod. Sisters, truly, not by blood but in heart.

Suddenly the doors flew open, putting a pause on the light-hearted moment. Daemon stood there, his expression unreadable.

“Dear uncle,” Rhaenyra greeted him.

He said nothing, and walked over to you, letting his fingers gently drift across your arm.

“The state of it?” He said curtly, not even looking at the maester.

“The wound itself should be fully healed in around three weeks, my prince. Although,” the maester pauses, “the scar will stay.”

“And,” he said, slowly this time, “which incompetent fuck was responsible?” His eyes meet Rhaenyra’s.

“The great Ser Criston Cole, uncle,” she said, mirth in her eyes, “He has been temporarily dismissed from his post, but he should be back with us after a while.”

“Temporarily dismissed?", he breathed out, incredulous, “He should be permanently dismissed from living.”

You let out a laugh at that, glancing at Rhaenyra who raised her eyebrows at you, “It’s okay, Daemon. It was only an accident. I highly doubt a simple injury warrants anything more to be done. Besides, he couldn’t have done anything more to me if he tried, thanks to you.” You reassured him as he moved away, alluding to his guidance in constantly honing your skills in combat.

“I know that, my sweet girl.” He stood gazing out the window, and you realized that he hasn’t met your eyes since he stormed in. But that term of endearment that he assigned to you made you feel warm, and it always has, since he first used it some time ago.

“There,” the maester exclaimed, standing up, “all done. I will be visiting you tomorrow to examine it again, princess.”

“Thank you, maester,” you addressed him, as he bows, and promptly leaves the room.

Rhaenyra sat closer to you, and inspected the stitches herself. Seemingly satisfied, she stood up, “Alright, well, I nearly forgot I have something to attend to in… uh…”

“Now?” you questioned, as she did not mention anything before.

“Yes, didn’t I mention? My father needs me I believe,” she walked to the door, but just before reaching it, she turned to you and winked.

“Rhae,” you whispered, confusion visible on your face.

Before you could add anything, she left, bidding you and Daemon goodbye.

A long silence followed, Daemon resolute in his post by the window.

“Daemon,” you said, trying to get his attention, “what are you thinking about?”

“All they told me was that you were injured. No one bothered to tell me of the extent of said injury, or of your overall condition, or of who inflicted it upon you and how.”

He turned around to face you then, hands clasped in front of him, “That was all – ‘Princess y/n has been injured, my prince.’ That was all I got. The blubbering messenger couldn’t even answer anything I threw at him about it.”

“It’s not anyone’s fault, Daemon. I didn’t even know that you would be alerted,” you said, “I apologize if you had been inconvenienced.” You knew that Daemon had been away from King’s Landing, assigned to facilitate an alliance with one of the houses in the north.

But you didn’t know that Daemon had assigned his people to keep tabs on you, to regularly keep him informed of how you were doing. If anything of any importance were to happen, he wanted to know right away.

And now, it had, all thanks to that fucking Ser Criston. Daemon wanted to take Caraxes and order him to roast that mongrel alive. All because of a simple injury, as you had so kindly called it. He could not even justify it to himself, but he would do it.

He would do it for you.

You did not understand why Daemon seemed so livid.

“Daemon,” you tried to calm him, “it’s okay.”

“No,” he declared, voice rising, “It’s not okay.”

He slowly made his way to you, and kneels, intertwining your hands, and resting them on your legs. “Something happened to you, and I wasn’t here.”

You two had always been close, so you were not entirely taken back by his actions. But this had an unspoken gravity about it. It feels like more.

His white-golden locks fell in front of his face, as he rested his head on your knees.

“Daemon,” you ran your fingers through his hair, admiration rippling through you.

“If something worse had happened,” his grip on your hand tightened, “I don’t know what I'd do.”

Your heart swelled at that. You had the same sentiment towards him. If anything were to happen to Daemon…

“Somehow I think,” you placed a gentle hand on his chin, bringing his eyes to meet yours, “you would be okay in the end. You are a Targaryen, after all.”

He rose, and sat next to you, keeping your hands together.

“You don’t understand,” Your breath caught in your throat, as he stared at you, “Without you, I would not be.”

It was true, as you had perhaps always known.

He has always been your Daemon.

You allowed yourself to bask in the glow of the moment, until he reached for your face, and slowly, glided his thumb over your lips.

He leaned in, and your lips touched. Still at first, but falling into gentle yet needy caresses, your face tightly held in his.

The room seemed to spin, and your injury was forgotten.

There was only him, his lips dancing with yours. This was a dance with a dragon, one whom you would let engulf you completely.

You broke apart, still ever so close, and smiled warmly at each other.

A moment later, he leaned down to place a kiss on your stitches.

“Hmm,” he looked at you cunningly, “well, time to break Ser Criston’s balls.”

You let out a laugh, and his eyes light up at the sound, at the expression on your face, which he has always loved.

“My sweet girl.”

the end

#house of the dragon #daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #endless oneshots

[starogeorgina]

𝐊𝐞𝐩𝐚

Paring: Daemon Targaryen × reader, Harwin Strong x reader, Criston Cole × reader

Warnings: Swearing, oral sex, fingering, titty sucking

1.02

It had been days since you left your quarters, and the feeling of isolation and loneliness was plaguing you while you got over whatever sickness you had. You spoke to Rhaenyra previously, and she assured you nothing was going on between her and Ser Harwin, that she merely invited him to her chambers so they could speak privately since he caught her in a compromising position with one of her most recent lovers, Lady Laena Velaryon. Which explains why Daemon would implicate your sister; his ego was bruised and he was mad. Lady Laena hadn’t ended their affair because she had been betrothed to another; it’s because she wants to be with Rhaenyra instead.

Although her confession made you feel ashamed for even doubting her, which was another reason you sought isolation.

You hadn’t seen your own lover or husband in just over a month. Harwin had returned to Harrenhal with his father the morning after you confronted him about why he was at your sister's quarters, and since he was vague, the questioning turned into a heated argument. And your father, King Viserys, had sent Daemon on some errand, which meant him leaving the keep.

You hear a knock at your door, and before you can call for it to be opened, someone enters your chambers. You raise a brow, seeing it’s Ser Criston instead of one of your handmaids. You hadn’t exchanged a word with the knight since you left his bedchamber after sharing a brief sexual encounter.

“Princess,” he bows.

“Ser Cristion,” you say, picking up your cup of wine and sinking down onto one of the plush red chairs. “What can I do for you?”

The knight begins to ramble some weak excuse on why he visited your private quarters when he had no business being there. You shut out his words as you focus on his gaze. The hunger in his eyes has caught your attention, as has the way he soaks up your appearance. The black dress you chose in the morning hugged your curves in all the right places, especially your breasts.

Ser Cristion didn’t come because he wanted to talk to you; he came because he wanted to fuck you.

“What is it you desire, my good knight?”

Standing tall, his eyes meet yours. “To please you, princess, That night we spent together, I focused only on my own pleasure and not on yours. I wish to rectify that.”

You don’t answer right away, deliberately leaving him hanging. When he takes a sharp breath, preparing himself for whatever you would reply, you slowly spread your legs open and bunch up your skirts, revealing your bare chest to him. Criston was a handsome man; his personality was questionable considering he was nothing more than a hypocrite, but who were you to refuse such an offer?

“You may please me with your mouth, but that is all.”

For a split second, you think Criston is going to leave when he faces the door, but instead of leaving, he locks it and then returns his gaze to you. You finish your wine as he kneels in front of you. He kisses your thigh, then moves his attention to your core and lets out an animalistic groan. Your eyes stay glued to him as he sucks on your clit, and your fingers tangle into his dark hair, keeping his mouth where it feels best.

You desperately wished it was someone you loved pleasing you, but yet here you are squirming around the tongue of a man you didn’t even care for, acting like a depraved whore.

—

The hour was late, and the sudden dip in the bed causes you to stir. Groggily, you rub your eyes, “Daemon?”

“My apologies for waking you, my love; I know the hour is late,” he shuffles closer to you in the bed. His bare chest is pressing against your back. “I was away much longer than I anticipated, if I had known—”

“I love you, Daemon Targaryen,” you whisper.

He seems taken aback by your sudden admission, and guilt swirls in your stomach. You had important information to tell him, but now wasn’t the time. Not when you were both exhausted.

“I don't deserve you, my sweet wife,” he says, pressing his lips against your bare shoulder. “But I'm never leaving your side again.”

—

“I was merely training him on how to please a woman properly.”

When neither of you could find sleep, you had a jug of wine and a platter of fresh fruit brought to your quarters. You now sit curled beside Daemon on one of the plush couches.

“Hmm, perhaps he won’t be such an insufferable cunt,” Daemon smirks before sipping on his wine. He found it rather amusing that you let Cole lick your cunny, but nothing else. “So... did you enjoy him tasting your sweet little cunt?”

“Hmm, I prefer your mouth on me.”

He pulls the thin fabric of your nightgown down low enough for your breasts to be exposed to him. Droplets of wine still linger on Daemon's lips when he takes your hardened nipple into his mouth, his tongue swirling around your nipple before he sucks on your flesh.

You giggle. “I’ve definitely missed you.”

Daemon moves his hand along your thigh, feeling the softness of your well-pampered skin beneath his fingers, before he reaches your wet core and sinks two fingers deep into your cunny. “I’ve missed you and your insatiable appetite. You’ve really got the tightest cunt I’ve ever felt.”

You moan at his words.

Greedily, he sucks on your breast while tapping at your clit with his thumb and spreading up his actions of sliding two fingers into your soaking core until the coil in your stomach snaps and his fingers are coated in your slick.

Smiling, you lean forward and nuzzle into his neck, his arms wrapping around you. “Hmm, I’m glad you are home; you have a task of the utmost importance to attend to valzȳrys.”

He rests his cheek against the top of your head while running his fingers through your hair. “And what would that be, ābrazȳrys?”

“You're going to need to find the perfect dragon egg to go in the cradle.”

It takes him a minute to process what you’ve just told him, then he smiles widely. “You are with a child?”

You place one of his hands flat on your stomach and say, “Yes, my love, I’m with a child.”

—

You nod your head and smile at the lords and ladies congratulating you. It hadn’t taken long for word of your growing family to spread around the house. Your father was ecstatic and insisted on throwing a grand feast to celebrate, which Daemon agreed to help organize. Rhaenyra had gifted you with the finest silk dresses to accommodate a growing body and toys for the baby. And all of the attention you received was a favorable distraction from missing Harwin so much.

When you reach the doorway to the library, you tell the knight accompanying you that he doesn’t need to follow you since nobody else has access to it aside from the royal family. Spotting the book Daemon intended to read to you next, you reach out to take it, but your arm is suddenly snatched.

A small gasp escapes your lips. “Ser Criston?”

Cristion’s grip tightens around your arm as he pulls you further away from the doorway room. With a devilish glare in his eyes, he asks, “Are you with the child?"

“Get your hands off me.”

You have been so busy since finding out you're pregnant that you haven’t even spoken with the knight since the night he came to your quarters. An unintentional slight on your end.

“Let go of me, or I will scream.”

He looks down at your arm to see how tightly he’s squeezing it, and let's go. “Are you with a child?" He repeats. When you don’t answer him, he takes your silence as a yes. “How far along?”

“That is none of—”

“How far along?”

Seeing the pleading look in his eyes, you sigh, “It’s been three moons since I last bled.”

His face falls.

“Criston…”

“Why?” he barks, and you immediately recoil. “Why did you need to drag me into whatever messed-up game you and the Prince are playing?”

“I will admit I made the first move that night, but you never turned me. And you are the one who tried to pursue me afterwards, so don’t play innocent.”

Cristion takes a step backwards, as though he's wrestling with something internally. He breathes angrily as his eyes move up and down, taking in the slightest swell in your stomach.

You clear your throat. “I know what you're thinking. That’s how long it’s been since we... Daemon knows.”

“And he doesn’t care?”

“No. He loves me, and he will love this child. His child.”

He remains silent as you brush by him. You were a fool for ever going to Criston that night, knowing how cruel he can be and how close he is to the queen. “I wonder how the king would feel if he heard his own precious princess wasn’t sure who the father of her child was.”

You laugh. “Why don’t you share that theory, Cole? I’m sure Prince Daemon would love to hear it.”

He glares at you.

“We all need to live with the consequences of our actions, and I have done things that I’m ashamed of, but if you ever utter a threat to me or my family again, nothing will be able to save you from the wrath of dragons. Do you understand?”

When Criston says nothing, you get the book for Daemon, and as you're leaving the library, you hear a muffled ‘spoiled cunt’ fall from the knight's lips.

—

Taking a deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose. Of course, there was a very slim chance that Daemon wasn’t the biological father of your baby.

Entering your quarters, you immediately notice something feels different—a shift in energy. You call out, “Daemon?”

He appears within seconds, his expression hard to read. He kisses your cheek and says, “There’s someone here who wishes to speak with you.”

“Who?”

“Try as you might, you cannot hide anything from me,” he says quietly. “I sent a raven asking for his return.”

Your lips part slightly as the question of who he wrote lingers on your lips, but in seconds you turn a corner and come face to face with Harwin. Your eyes swell with tears.

He stands at attention, “princess.”

“Harwin…”

Husband - Valzȳrys

Wife - Ābrazȳrys

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